Note: I want to thank everyone who reads or reviews… it is touching to see.
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The air was so thick with tension Isabeau could have cut it with a knife. The Inquisition had remained at Andoral's Reach for nearly three weeks; Isabeau, Leliana and Cullen working tirelessly to smooth out the situation as much as possible. While Solas, Vivienne and Dorian had proven invaluable in championing Isabeau's cause to their fellow mages; Evangeline, Cassandra and Cullen had encountered a more difficult time in persuading their old comrades. The collection of Seekers and Templars now co-habiting the Reach had proven a trying bunch. Precious few had taken up the Inquisition's cause; the others either raising such turmoil they were rejected to the fortress' gates or, as with most, sullenly accepted their current stations and bided their time. Isabeau knew it was unreasonable to expect the situation to wrap itself up in a neat little ribbon... But one can hope.
"I understand your concern, Ser Gregoir, but so long as you and your constituents remain you will follow the guidelines Ser Cullen has provided," Isabeau said firmly as she rose from her place at the expansive table. "While regrettable, any Knights who refuse or rebel against their allotted dosages will be dealt with like the other upstarts."
Evangeline nodded her agreement at Isabeau's side while Gregoir's face contorted with distaste.
"I am their Commander, Inquisitor. If you want this little endeavor of yours to progress as smoothly as possible, you will not meddle in Templar affairs."
Isabeau sternly rounded on the Knight, "You no longer have your own affairs, Ser Gregoir. I own your affairs and I say you will not continue using Lyrium as a form of discipline. If you feel you need to resort to such torment, then bring these troublesome knights to me and I will deal with them accordingly. I will not have you sow more dissension via Lyrium induced madness."
Gregoir scoffed and waved a hand as if to refute Isabeau's orders, "The dosages Ser Cullen has prescribed are insufficient, disciplinary actions aside, I have Knights who will not manage with these quantities."
"It is hardly the Inquisitor's fault that you have allowed your men to become so mangled and dependant," Cullen coolly interjected as his gaze met Gregoir's evenly. "The guidelines I have provided you are the Order's canonical prescription. It must suffice if you have any care for your men, Commander."
After a gulp of wine from his goblet, Gregoir let out a dramatic scoff, "Do not speak to me about what is or isn't canonical, boy. What was the purpose of absorbing my forces if you're just going to eject the bloody lot of them?"
Isabeau sighed at his insolence, "I will not have this council reduced to rhetoric, Gregoir. Bring your men to heel and adhere to protocol… or I shall submit them to worse than the long walk to wherever it is your superior's lurk."
With a great scowl upon his face, Commander Gregoir bowed and left their presence, the door he exited slamming loudly in his irate wake. Isabeau allowed herself a groan for her own frustration, sinking back into her seat to bury her face in her arms upon the table.
"Give it some time, Inquisitor," Cullen soothed, his large hand coming to rub pacifyingly between her shoulders.
"When faced with no alternatives, Gregoir and his men will submit," Evangeline gently agreed.
"We'll never make it back to Skyhold. This place will be the death of me," Isabeau whined, raising her head to swallow down several gulps of her wine. "The dragons must have drugged me into a fit of fantastical inspiration; I was mad to think this wise."
Cullen chuckled softly as he came to sit next to her, "There are yet men who still may come to our cause, Isabeau. If we can endure this ordeal and come away with capable Mages, as well as Templars and Seekers, the Inquisition will be better for it. As I said… you must be patient and give it time."
"We cannot remain here forever," Isabeau retorted tiredly. "What happens when we leave? Was it all for nought if the Reach simply crumbles to anarchy and death in our absence?"
"It won't."
Isabeau perked her eyebrows at Cullen in doubt, "Oh yes, the Mages are certainly content… but once the Templars and Seekers do not have their watch dogs?" She sighed deeply, "I envy your optimism."
Bringing her goblet to her lips again, Isabeau nodded at her nearby squire, Podrick. The young man tilted his head obediently and made for the great double doors, opening them to beckon in a legion of Mages. First Enchanter Irving made his way towards where Cullen and Isabeau sat, joining them at the expansive table as they patiently awaited Dorian, Solas and Vivienne. Once all had arrived and were assembled, a throng of various ranks and collections of Mages crowded the makeshift war room, eager to speak their concerns.
"A Seeker has forced himself upon one of my apprentices!"
"They're stealing from our Lyrium stores; we cannot sustain their needs as well as ours!"
"Summon the dragons and let us be done with the lot of them!"
For over two hours the council dragged on as such, Isabeau feeling incredibly grateful for her companion's abilities as they managed the onslaught. Vivienne proved to be the most proficient; her diplomacies incredibly well executed as she fielded the varying concerns with a grace and poise Isabeau down right envied.
Once only her companions, Irving, Rhys and Galyan remained, Isabeau chanced a sip from her goblet; the vigorous questioning and demands having taxed her greatly, Isabeau found herself with a great thirst. With a steadying breath she folded her hands upon the table before her, turning her head to look up and down its length at the collected faces.
"Is there anything of note that is fit to be privy amongst ourselves?"
"I… have something, Inquisitor." Cullen began as he rose and moved to stand behind Evangeline, "Madame de Brassard has proven more than committed and capable. I formally request pledging her to the Inquisiton and promoting her to a lord of the Reach; in addition to several of my generals, she will act as the law in our ensuing absence."
Isabeau immediately looked to First Enchanter Irving, quirking her eyebrow questioningly.
"A… wise and fair choice, Ser Cullen," Irving breathed before taking a sip of his goblet, "Evangeline has more than proven herself to both myself and my constituents. If you insist on establishing a hierarchy, I would welcome her at its head."
"Very well," Isabeau replied soberly as she rose from her seat, Evangeline doing the same before kneeling. Isabeau drew her bastard sword and gently set its blade upon the ex-templar's shoulder, "Evangeline de Brassard, you shall henceforth be Protector of the Reach. Govern evenly and ensure the Inquisition's cause continues to thrive under your order."
"You have my solemn oath, Inquisitor."
"Rise, Protector Evangeline and welcome… to the Inquisition."
Galyan and Rhys both heartily congratulated Evangeline as she returned to her seat at their sides, Irving casting an affectionate smile her way. Isabeau let out a deep breath and was about to continue their talks towards more trivial matters when Leliana burst through the doors at the opposite end of the hall.
"Inquisitor!" Isabeau stood to receive Leliana; the Sister pressing a tiny, rolled parchment into Isabeau's awaiting hands. "A raven arrived with word marked as urgent from Montilyet back at Skyhold," Leliana explained in her eerily soft voice, her hand momentarily clasping Isabeau's within it.
As Isabeau unrolled and read the tiny writing, suddenly her world turned black and she next awoke to a very concerned Cullen looming overhead, her body cradled in his arms as the others looked on uncertainly. Solas was hurriedly muttering spells, Isabeau's shaky hand rising to wipe at the blood upon the temple of her forehead.
"What…?"
"You passed out, Inquisitor. Your… head took a nasty hit against the table's edge before any of us could reach you," Cullen explained, Isabeau noting the tightness his features took on when deeply concerned.
The contents of the bird's letter came rushing back to her.
"My father… I… I have to go to Hercinia," she gushed, attempting to pull from Cullen's arms and immediately make haste for her departure. When the knight's hold tightened around her, Isabeau moaned in agonized worry as she continued, "He's ill. Dying… I have to go…"
"You have burned the candle at each end for so long now, Inquisitor. May I strongly advise a few days rest before embarking for your home land?" Solas gravely counselled; his spells of rejuvenation having little effect on Isabeau's over-exhausted body.
"Isabeau… please," Cullen entreated, his embrace tightening at his words.
With a weary shake of her head, Isabeau consented as Cullen and Leliana hauled her to her feet, waves of dizziness plaguing her as she stood.
Cullen adjusted his hold on her, "May we adjourn until further notice?"
Irving nodded, "Of course, Ser Cullen. See that your Inquisitor is taken care of. We can meet and arrange further preparations as you require."
Isabeau vaguely processed their words before Cullen was ushering her out of the hall and towards their temporary quarters. Leliana had followed behind him, darting ahead to open the chamber doors before ushering she and Cullen within. As Cullen gently set Isabeau upon the goose-down mattress, she watched him turn to Leliana and speak in harried whispers as Isabeau curled into a tight ball.
Father… Maker, please not now…
With a terse nod of her head, Leliana departed, Isabeau catching her sad glance before the spymaster disappeared through the door's threshold. Cullen closed the door behind her and ran a hand through his blond tresses before coming to sink upon the bed at Isabeau's side, his hands gently rubbing her ribs as she clutched the coverlets to her face.
"We will depart as soon as possible, Isabeau," he began softly, his hand running up her ribs to affectionately cup her face. "Kindly heed Solas' advice and for now, rest. The others and myself shall make the appropriate arrangements."
"Cullen… if… if I do not make it in time…" Isabeau croaked brokenly, memories of her father intensely springing to the forefront of her mind. My greatest Teacher and Champion… Andraste, I beg you to see me to his side before he is gone from this world.
A large hand encased hers and squeezed it encouragingly, "We will depart as swiftly as possible, Isabeau. However, you'd be doing your father a disservice in showing up so… fatigued. Let us ensure he is met with the Isabeau he remembers, yes?"
Isabeau squeezed her eyes tight and miserably nodded her consent before Cullen stretched out at her side, his face inches from her as he affectionately rubbed his nose against hers. She opened her eyes, meeting her knight's concerned gaze as she reached and wrapped her arms around his middle, the two shimmying tight against each other as Cullen remained the cliff she clung to in her storms. As his hands consolingly petted her hair, his lips planting soft kisses under her eyes, Isabeau allowed herself the brief respite from her torment.
"Come, let us undress and get the rest we need," Cullen gently urged as he softly tugged her to an upright position. Tender, knowing hands worked off the various layers of her armor and under clothes; Cullen removing his own once done with Isabeau, the pair crawling under the coverlets together shortly after.
Rain began to pelt against the windows outside, the soft pattering upon the glass mingling with Cullen's heartbeat beneath her ear, Isabeau closing her eyes as she attempted to let the sound lead her to blessed sleep. Behind her vision however, dragon fire and scorched, bloodied bodies filled her mind's eye. Ser Karras' gurgling death rattle came back as if she was returned to his grasp; his gory and decimated face somehow still leering at her with each of his blows, destroying more of her spirit as she watched her soul join the blood that cascaded from her body. The remnants of her ruin came to end at her father's feet, his desolate gaze boring into her bleeding eyes as Isabeau looked on in horror.
Her eyes suddenly shooting open, Isabeau leapt up from Cullen's embrace, panting heavily.
"I can't!" She croaked desperately as her arms came to protectively wrap around herself, beginning to rock back and forth. A shaky hand rose to cup her mutilated ear as more of the pervasive, anxiety-riddled thoughts battered at her weakened psyche. Her beloved father then rose to the forefront of her worries, Isabeau crying out in anguish as she began to fret over him, too.
As she felt herself falling deeper into the abyss, she was pulled back when Cullen's arms came to wrap around her from behind. He had sat up behind her; the knight's thick muscles enveloping Isabeau, gently pulling her back closer against his stomach until they had nearly melded as one. Kind whispers of love and hope from Cullen caressed her ears, Isabeau relaxing at the sound of his beautifully crisp Fereldish accent.
A small, timid smile tugged at her lips as Cullen gently fell back against the mattress, Isabeau tumbling with him in his arms. She readjusted to lie at his side, her legs tangling amongst his as she idly drifted her fingertips across his chest's skin, planting soft, tender kisses in their wake. Shimmying down lower, Cullen brought his face to hers, his fingers running through the hair at the back of her head as he palmed her and pulled her lips towards his. With a steadying breath, Isabeau welcomed his affections, their kisses growing more passionate as they each tugged the other's small clothes away.
Positioning himself atop Isabeau, Cullen eased himself between her legs, the couple soundlessly mouthing their bliss at the connection as he buried himself in her warmth to the hilt. Isabeau bent her knee and rubbed her thigh against his as he slowly grinded into her; soft, gasping moans coaxed from between her lips, Cullen leaned down to muffle her mewling with his own mouth. As her release grew within her, Isabeau clung to Cullen more desperately, whispering her urgency as her knight deepened his thrusts and increased his pace. When Isabeau closed her eyes as bliss wracked her body, she felt her muscles clenching around Cullen's cock, a stifled grunt heralding the templar's own blessed end.
As they collected themselves in each other's arms, Isabeau gently ran her fingers through Cullen's thick hair; the weight of her worries blessedly lifted for the interim in the aftermath of their passions.
"To think… for so long, I denied myself this."
Isabeau propped herself up on an elbow, resting her head in her hand as she considered Cullen's declaration, "How… long, exactly?"
Cullen uncharacteristically smirked, "Too long."
At Isabeau's unsatisfied glare, he relented with a deep sigh, "Do… you remember when Leliana first joined us? We were preparing to assist Bann Teagan in his efforts to retake Redcliffe…?"
"I remember Leliana being incredibly pissed when I found her in the castles' ruins, but yes."
"The night before you and Dorian set out; we were agonizing over our troop movements together. The Mage's and Templar's presence was complicating our efforts and I had remained awake deep into the night in an attempt to find a compromise," he explained softly, his eyes distant as Isabeau entwined her fingers with his. "You… startled me with your arrival," he let out a soft chuckle, "Even though, by then, our shared late nights had become… quite common."
A smile crept across Isabeau's face as she recalled the youth of their rapport, "Ah, yes. You tried ushering me back to bed."
"With good reason," He replied coyly before bringing her hand to his lips, brushing her knuckles gently across them as he continued. "I-it… it hit me quite suddenly as we labored into the night over that map. To see someone so… earnestly dedicated; so genuinely concerned for the people as much as the battle… it is a rarity I do not think you are aware of."
Memories of their battle through Redcliffe's lands sprung back to mind, Isabeau feeling a deep sadness over the civilians she had not managed to spare in that endeavor.
"I could have done more… saved more."
Cullen suddenly sat up; his arm coming to support his weight at Isabeau's side as the other gently slid a hand down her cheek, "Exactly. You mourn every loss, whether it is your own or a stranger's. There is a capacity for empathy within you that is a blessed thing to see, Isabeau. I… do not think I would have committed to the Inquisition's cause so fiercely were it not for that very ability of yours. You bring humanism to our efforts and I, like the others, have come to appreciate its importance over all else."
Isabeau's heart swelled with affection for the Templar above her, sitting up to passionately crush her lips to his as they fell back in tight embrace.
"You continue to honor and humble me, Ser Cullen," she breathed, tightening her arms around him as they lay amongst the coverlets.
"You will see your father again, Isabeau. By my honor, I will have him know of the woman you have become… and the hope you carry with each step you take."