I sighed, rocking a quill between my fingers as I sat at my desk. The incomplete report stared back at me, as it had done almost all day. I'd started off well enough, but my thoughts kept drifting, distracting me. Even without the controversy I'd stirred by recruiting the Wardens, I had plenty else to weigh me down. No matter how I tried to gloss over it, that near-miss in Ostwick still plagued my mind. Now I remembered everything, and it left a very bitter taste. Kianna had been imprisoned, and awaited her own Rite of Tranquility. I'd been very conflicted about it. Her betrayal had wounded me deeply, but even I wouldn't wish such punishment on anyone. Nevertheless, the First Enchanter went through with it, and Kianna lost all memory of the event. She was then moved to Kirkwall, and I never saw her again.

It had been an empty time after that. I tried to lose myself in my studies, and kept away from everyone who ventured too near. That didn't deter Stephan, as he tried to take Kianna's place at my side. He was hardly a stranger to me—we'd trained for our Harrowing together—but the whole incident had made things too awkward. Looking back, it was obvious he'd had a crush on me, but regardless I never allowed him too close. I never allowed anyone that close again.

My fist clenched, and a sharp crack signalled the end of another quill. Scowling, I tossed the broken pieces aside, reaching for another. I was dwelling on it too much, but perhaps a silver lining could still be found. I'd made myself too vulnerable again, and the Nightmare had given me a due reminder to rebuild my defences. With the Inquisition's growing influence, it was inevitable my trust would be abused someday. At least now I had the foresight to prepare for it.

A knock sounded at my door, and I glanced up. I didn't even have a chance to respond when it creaked open and Josephine entered my quarters. She smiled.

"I hope you don't mind the intrusion," she said, sauntering to my desk. "But you've been here all day and haven't even come down for a meal. We were getting worried."

"Oh, well this is just taking longer than I expected," I said, turning back to the unfinished report. "I'll be down later."

"You said that to the courier I sent three hours ago, and the one three hours before that." Josephine reached over and plucked the quill from my hand. "I doubt you will progress much further in your current mood. A short break will do no harm. Besides, I would appreciate your company for dinner."

Her brown eyes were hopeful, and I hesitated. We often shared meals together, and I could no longer deny the hunger pangs I'd been ignoring all day. Yet now the thought left me uncomfortable. We'd been spending more time outside of meetings, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. And with everything else on my mind…

"I appreciate the offer, but I really should finish this report," I said at last. "Perhaps another time."

Josephine's gaze fell. It barely lasted a second, though, and she sat on my desk, her brow raised.

"Are you certain you are alright?" she asked. "You've not quite been yourself since you returned from Adamant. Did anything…"

"I'm absolutely fine," I cut her off. I would not let the cracks show. "Look, it was a tiring fight, and it won't be the last. If anything I remember can give us an advantage, it will be worth it. I'll be down when it's done."

Josephine frowned.

"With all due respect, Inquisitor," she began, "I think you are not doing yourself any favours." Her voice softened. "If you need to talk about what happened, or anything…"

"With all due respect, ambassador, I'm sure you have better things to do with your time." My voice was curt. "So don't wait on me."

I snatched the quill from her and sat back in my chair. Josephine's gaze never left me, her eyes betraying her feelings. Swallowing, I pushed away my guilt, making myself start writing again. She might have truly worried over my welfare, but I didn't need her concern. It was only something she could use against me later.

Josephine muttered a farewell, before she straightened her dress and strode out. She closed the door harder than she needed, and the bang echoed in my ears. I gritted my teeth, and the quill snapped again.

It was going to be a long night.


"Inquisitor?"

I opened my eyes. Dawn had barely broken, and I was sitting on a bench in the Skyhold garden. I'd come down here in the early hours, hoping to clear my overfilled mind, but I must've just dozed off. Someone had also found the courtesy to give me a blanket, which I was glad for. The nights were cold here. Pushing the fabric aside, I yawned and glanced to my right. A hooded messenger was hovering; one of Leliana's agents. He clasped his hands and bowed.

"Sorry to disturb you, but Sister Leliana wishes to speak with you urgently," he said.

I nodded, fighting back another yawn. It must have been important if she would summon me so early.

"Alright, I'll go see her," I said. "Thank you."

The messenger nodded, then hurried off. I watched him leave, before rubbing my eyes. I would do well to freshen up first. After a brief stretch, I gathered the blanket and rose to my feet. I headed back to my quarters, the distant chatter growing louder as the residents of Skyhold began to awaken. My path took me past the tavern, and the scent from the kitchens made my stomach rumble. Unable to resist, I made a quick stop and grabbed a piece of fresh bread. The cook remained busy, so I managed to slip out before she noticed. I sighed, chewing on the warm crust. If only I could be as free from scrutiny during the rest of the day.

Finally I returned to my quarters. A quick wash and change of clothes later, and I headed straight to the library tower. I knew better than to keep Leliana waiting.

The library was far from empty. I caught Dorian poking around the shelves, his arms filled with tomes. I was surprised he was here this early, but he'd become very obsessed with his research since learning about our adventure in the Fade. He called a greeting, and I nodded back. Fortunately he was much too pre-occupied to stir up conversation, so I ventured onward to the stairs.

The cawing echoed throughout the tower, and I tried not to flinch as a crow fluttered overhead. I'd never been a big fan of the birds, although they weren't nearly as terrifying as spiders. Leliana was kneeling before a statue of Andraste, murmuring her morning prayers. I waited, letting her finish, and somewhat jealous she could still retain her faith. Whatever was left of mine remained in the Fade.

Eventually the final words left her lips, and she brought her hands to her forehead. Then she rose, and turned to face me.

"Ah, I didn't expect you so quickly." She gestured to her table. I followed her, and she sat down and crossed her legs. "But I do appreciate your promptness."

"No problem," I said, leaning on the railing that overlooked the staircase. "So what troubles you?"

Leliana was silent for a moment. Then she looked straight at me, with a gaze like frozen steel.

"Josephine was a little upset last night." She spoke carefully, studying my reaction. "She's been concerned about you."

"Oh?"

"She's not the only one." Leliana's voice was measured. "Even Cassandra has mentioned a few worries. I simply wanted to hear your side of the story."

"My side? Of what?"

"Tell me what happened at Adamant," Leliana said. "Or rather, what happened in the Fade. I understand you learnt of what happened to Divine Justinia, but there must have been something else. You've not really spoken much about it, and all of us have seen a change in you."

I hesitated. It had only been a week since the fall of the fortress; my companions must have been watching closer than I realised. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. Leliana would instantly pick up any lie, and I couldn't just brush off her question. But I would not share that final memory the Nightmare had returned. It was none of their business.

If this was how she wanted to play, however…

"The Nightmare demon thrived on instilling fear," I said. "As I was escaping through the rift, it tried to intimidate me one last time. It just left me very drained."

Leliana gave a slow nod. "So you don't feel any different otherwise? You weren't set upon by spirits?"

I blinked, taken aback by her directness, when it suddenly clicked. I wanted to roll my eyes. Maker's breath, would they really believe that I'd been…

"I've not been possessed, if that's what you're asking," I said.

"That's not exactly what I was after," Leliana replied, "but thank you for the reassurance, nonetheless." She stood up and began pacing. "You have been retreating from us, Inquisitor. It takes no fortune-teller to see that your newfound memories have shaken you." For a moment her gaze softened, and her grey-blue eyes sparkled. "If you feel we blame you for the Divine's death, or for the hundreds who perished in the Conclave, then please absolve yourself of that notion. You are not responsible for Corypheus's ambition."

I gave a nod, thankful she'd given me a ready-made excuse. Yet this would only give a temporary reprieve, and I was certain Leliana knew more than she was letting on. I wondered what Josephine had told her.

"There is just one further issue outstanding," Leliana added. She stopped pacing, and rested her hands on the table. That frosty gaze returned, and she leant forward, her eyes narrowed. "I appreciate you have been under a great deal of stress, but if you ever speak that way to Josephine again, you will have to answer to me."

I raised a brow, not expecting such a shift in tone.

"Is that a threat, spymaster?"

"Don't play the fool Inquisitor," Leliana answered. "I have seen how close the two of you have become. At least things appeared to be heading in such direction, until now." Her voice hardened. "I do not approve of my dearest friend being toyed with."

I stared back at her, silent. So, this what was the real fuss was about. A part of me winced—I had spoken to Josephine too harshly—but I quickly closed that side off. I couldn't let things go further. This was the only way I could survive, and it was time I made them realise as well.

"You seem to be mistaken," I said firmly. "I had no intention of misleading you or Josephine, so let me be perfectly clear." I paused, renewing my resolve. "There was never anything between us, and there never will be. She is an advisor and trusted colleague, as are you. So, whatever subtext you are trying to imply doesn't exist. I hope that satisfies you, spymaster."

Leliana blinked, surprised, but whatever retort was on her lips was interrupted by a soft gasp. We both looked to the staircase, and my eyes widened. Josephine had appeared, and her expression told me she'd heard most of the exchange. The pang in my chest deepened, but before it gnawed further I turned and descended the staircase. Still I could not escape the hurt look in the ambassador's eyes, so I walked faster. Maker's breath, why had this become so difficult? I used to be able to severe ties with the precision of an assassin. And they never lingered in my mind like this. Why should she be any different?

I didn't stop walking until I was in the courtyard. My arms were shaking, and I licked my lips, standing in the shade of the tavern's east wall. Now regret was starting to set in, and I held my temple. Josephine had done nothing wrong; she didn't deserve this. I didn't need to be so cruel.

But neither did Kianna, a nasty voice echoed in my thoughts. I shook my head, clasping my eyes shut. Such guilt was only a weakness; a path that allowed others to weave their way inside my heart so they could tear it to shreds. I could not—no, would not withstand that a second time. I couldn't let my guard down for anyone. Never again, never again…

A sudden metallic rattle broke my thoughts, and I looked up, only to dive aside as a bucket of water plummeted towards me. Fortunately it missed, splashing my ankles, and I scowled. A disgruntled snort came from the tavern rooftop, and I caught a flash of blonde hair.

"Damn it, I almost had you!" Sera's head poked out above the rafters. She didn't linger and swung down the steep wall, landing just before me. She dusted herself off, looking annoyed.

"What in the Maker's name was that for?" I asked, more bemused than angry.

"To wash that gunky Fade shit out of your head, that's what, yeah," Sera proclaimed. "Would've worked too, if you hadn't moved."

"I don't generally appreciate being soaked to the skin for no reason," I shot back.

"I just told you the reason, yeah?" Sera rolled her eyes, resting her hands on her hips. "You've been all mopey-face since you got back and it's doing my head in. I can't function when you're like this."

"Well, sorry for not getting over what happened soon enough for you," I huffed. "Why should it bother you, anyway?"

"Oh, don't make this about me," Sera retorted. "It's all you, mate, and the sooner you realise you need to bloody well let go already, then things can get back to normal, yeah. I can get back to normal." She kicked the bucket aside. "Better clean that head of yours out, or I'll bring the heavy stuff next time."

She skulked away. My brow twitched, and I had to fight the temptation to throw the bucket at her. How dare she…How dare she have the gall to say that to my face! She had no idea what Kianna had done to me, why I'd been so careful until the day the Nightmare found its way into my merciless dreams and took the memory away. Now I'd foolishly let myself fall too deep, and if I didn't fix the mess I'd dug myself into…

I stopped pacing, realising that others had started watching me. My face flushed, and I drew my collar higher, hoping to retain some dignity as I stormed back into the main keep. My anger was short-lived, however, and by the time I entered my quarters my trembling had returned. I slumped onto my bed, my head in my hands. Sera might've thought an easy resolution within reach, but I could see no way out. My feelings were twisting me apart, and I was utterly stranded.

Tears prickled behind my eyes, and I urged them not to fall. The friendships I'd forged since surviving the Conclave; had they suddenly become meaningless now? Every victory, every loss, every laugh, every grievance…

And yet it had been exactly the same with Kianna. Such shared moments were no reliable indicator of loyalty. They'd only let me live because they needed me. Because of this damned mark on my hand; a mark that was the result of pure accident, not the divine providence exaggerated to the point of myth. A myth that let them use me however they wished.

I shook my head. I'd been too naïve. All along I'd been merely a tool to them; a weapon to fend off the darkness they so greatly feared.

And if they had never truly cared for me, then I would show them the same courtesy.