CULLEN
I followed Ellana, as we trailed behind the celebrating crowd. Back up the main road and bit by bit I felt my strength return. I realized that for the first time in nearly ten years, I could breathe. Really breathe. No longer did I have the crushing weight of fear and failure upon my shoulders. No longer did I feel the suffocation of Desire's cage. The scars upon my back and along my body from the blood mages' torture were free of the nauseating taint. The past was not gone, nor my desire—my need—to be better, but no longer did I feel that I was drowning beneath it.
All that remained, and even it was less than it had been, was the hunger for lyrium. No longer to drown out the past, but I hungered for the strength for the fight ahead. The storm above seeped through to my bones. Something was coming. Whatever awaited us at the Winter Palace, at Adamant and beyond…it was not hard to predict that it would be of greater challenge and stakes than anything that had thus occurred. I thanked the Maker for Meira and her magic for the thousandth time…and I would do so thousands upon thousands more. Nearly all of the shameful chains that had held me in the dark were gone.
My eyes found her amongst the Battalion, her moon-white hair easy to spot. She stood between Barris and Henry, Solana at her side. She laughed and spoke merrily, even Barris cracking a small smile. Whatever my feelings for her had been before, it was now as if my every nerve was alive…and intent upon her. I longed to protect her, to cherish her, to love her. Her silver eyes found me before she and the Battalion were taken up to the main keep via the platform. There was so much I wanted to say, but when I tried to think of the words, they were tangled up in my head.
"She'll understand when you give her the coin," Cole's voice murmured as he appeared beside me, "The words won't matter as much."
"But I feel I need to explain," I stated, "I want her to understand…to know beyond a doubt what she means to me." I looked up at the barbican above our heads, sensing her within. "What I want to give her."
"It's hard for her not to doubt," Cole said, softly, "The old lies go as deep as her scars."
"But why?" I questioned.
"Don't you do the same?" He deflected, keeping his face hidden beneath his hat.
I placed my hands on my pommel. "She has no reason to doubt me. I have every reason to doubt myself."
"It's not you she doubts, it's herself. Like you," Cole explained, "Hope is a scary thing."
"How do I help her…to not be afraid?" I breathed, hardly believing I was asking the spirit for help.
Cole looked at me. "Heal her scars."
I looked away from him, clenching my jaw in irritation at having thought he'd give me a simple answer. "That doesn't make sense. I don't understand."
"No, not yet," he agreed, "But you will."
With that he was gone. I mulled over his words all the way up the barbican, but the more I puzzled over them, the more the answer eluded me. Heal her scars? I knew the answer was something deeper than anything obvious, but I didn't know what the spirit meant. I turned Bran's coin over in my pocket.
My gut told me what to do, but what would she say? What would she think? If she thought I sought intimacy…would such a gesture convince her all the more?
Squaring my shoulders, I pushed away the doubt. All I could do was show her, tell her, again and again. For as long as it took. Crossing through the portcullis, striding across the neck, I stopped abruptly as I entered the lower bailey.
"Attention!" A voice called. At the call, I watched as many of the soldiers of the Inquisition, who had lined up from the main gate to the stairs up to the castle, put their hands to their chests in a salute. "The forces of the Inquisition present themselves for inspection, Commander! Inquisitor!"
"Your soldiers missed you," Ellana murmured, the barest hint of a smile on her face as she continued onward. "I'll leave it to the Commander," she said to the soldiers.
"Inquisitor!" They saluted.
I cleared my throat that had suddenly gotten thick and strode forward. "Sloppy, all of you! I expect uniforms and armor to be cleaned and polished by evening inspection!"
"Yes, Commander!" They chimed in unison, smiles pulling their mouths.
"This doesn't look like guard or duty rotations!" I barked, "Get back to your posts!"
"Yes, Commander!"
"Now!" I ordered. They scrambled to get back to their duties and I had to fight down a laugh.
"Ever the general," Leliana stated, a smile curving her mouth. I had not known she had even been amongst the crowd.
"Ever the spymaster," I retorted, raising a brow.
"We are who we are," she dipped her head, "I'll see you in the War Room in an hour." I looked back to where the Battalion was disappearing into the tavern. "Don't worry, she'll be joining us as well. You should probably take the time to get caught up."
I turned to say something, but she had disappeared. I headed for my office within the guardhouse. As desperate as I was to shirk all duties and find Meira, with Ellana leaving, I needed to be caught up on all I had missed.
A week. I had been down for a week. Rubbing the back of my neck, stress climbed back into my shoulders. The amount of work I would have to catch up on…sighing deeply, I pushed open the door to my office.
"Praise the Maker!" A voice called before I was tackled around the waist. I looked down to find Sela wrapping me in a hug. Then she seemed to remember herself and let go before snapping to attention. "I mean…welcome back, Ser!"
I fought down a chuckle as I offered her a salute. "Legate."
Her cheeks pinked before she laughed at herself. "Apologies, Commander." Her eyes met mine. "I'm just glad you're well."
"That's…alright, Sela," I offered, "Thank you."
She cleared her throat before resuming her usual spot near the desk. "I took the liberty of sorting everything for you. Seeker Cassandra and Lady Talitha saw to what they could while you were…recovering. Lady Talitha and I worked to summarize it all so you could be quickly caught up when you returned."
I approached the desk, separate piles of parchment spread out over its top. Most were, thankfully, small, comprised of various requests, dispatches from Inquisition camps regarding troop and supply movements, updates from agents, requisitions and the like. The largest stack held personal correspondences, dispatches that required my attention, coded messages from Rylen, Vale and Scout Harding. Atop each stack, except the one that demanded I personally see to its contents, was a summarization of all that lay within. Meira had attached notes to call my attention to things of most importance or that required my signature. The space was otherwise neat and well tended, kept tidy for my return.
I sat down and began reading over the summaries. It amazed me how much could occur in a week, but I was thankful nothing too dire had come to pass in my absence. It did seem that the general flow of the Inquisition had been disrupted, however. Between supply disruptions, squabbles amongst the troops and some confusion over how many chickens the cook actually needed in order to replace the most recently butchered leading to a mass of hens attempting to escape, things had been a little more chaotic than usual.
Those requests that required my attention were of far more weighty consequence. Rylen was to return to Skyhold for a brief time prior to our march on Adamant at the Inquisitor's command to sure up logistics, directly see to any needs he believed could surface, and help us get a better understanding of what we were walking into.
He'd been in contact with Hawke's party, who'd been quietly surveying Adamant Fortress as well as they could. We'd had little contact with them, but Leliana assured it was best and most likely meant they were deep in their cover. Once they'd gathered all they could, he would escort them back and see to the Inquisition posts along the way, taking count of soldiers and supplies.
I had to admit I looked forward to his return, I missed the man's easy temper, irreverence and practicality. But moreover, I had the want to speak with him about lyrium. I had not told him about foregoing my use of it and now…I wanted to know what he would think and if he had any ideas as to how I could still use my abilities without taking the substance. And after speaking with him, I hoped to have the courage to speak with others.
I glanced to my bookshelf, to where my kit had usually sat. The spot was empty and at the box's absence, I felt a sense of relief. It had shattered against the wall when I'd thrown it, the contents broken upon the ground. Ellana had challenged me, pointed right at the heart of the matter and told me to keep going. And I would. I would and I would never look back.
Below Rylen's dispatches sat a letter from Bethany pertaining to Wilhelm. I read it and then read it again. After Elizabeth had burned the lyrium from his blood, Wilhelm seemed to be through the worst of the withdrawal symptoms. He was now working with Cassandra as well to see if he could wield his abilities. For in that possibility, he saw an Order he could be a part of. He had yet to have success, but he was far more hopeful than I had been. I prayed one of us would figure it out.
Though I was thankful he had not endured the same drawn out struggle, I knew there had to be a safer way. The difference in my body and mind now as compared to before facing Shame…I had not realized how much of a toll it had been taking. And even as I felt the symptoms return, the severity was less. Manageable. But to get to this point—I'd nearly died and gone mad. And though Elizabeth's talent had circumvented the worst of it for Wilhelm, it had been agony to watch. There had to be another way…but what?
At the bottom was a report written directly to me in Meira's hand. In it, she explained what had happened to call her back to Skyhold. When I had asked Cole to find her, he had traveled through the Fade; when she learned I was in trouble, she had stepped through the Fade, using the armor she had acquired at the elven temple to bolster her magical power. She had arrived not hours after Shame had pulled my mind across the Veil.
The report held no details of what had occurred from the moment when she arrived until after, only vaguely assuring that the demon had been defeated. Instead, the contents turned to what she had been implementing amongst the Battalion and the mages and templars within the Inquisition. The mages and templars were being made to learn about each other, to live together. Training together. Mages learning and training as templars; templars learning and training as mages. And their teachers? Each other…and spirits. Spirits that were connected to the armor Meira now bore. All she wrote was clinical, informative, but at the end, she gave herself away.
I feel this is the path the Maker has set before me, Cullen. To bring an end to this tired war, if I can. I will not be so foolish as to claim I alone know how—in truth, I feel as if I have no idea what I am doing. But no one else is willing to try. And this, these ideas, feel right. I know such changes may be frightening, but…I pray the Maker guides my steps.
She had been worried about how I would react. The others had said as much. And why wouldn't she? I looked to the small table where we'd shared meals before our long parting. I would not be foolish enough to claim my fear of magic gone…it wasn't and in truth, I never wanted to lose a healthy respect for it. But now…after all the good I had witnessed, after what her magic had done for me…I had to try.
The door burst open and I was surprised when Cassandra strode in. Sela ran out the western door at the Seeker's arrival. I watched as Cassandra prowled towards the desk, dark eyes intent upon me and face serious. For a moment, I believed she was angry with me, but then I noticed that her eyes were glistening.
"Do not ever do that again," she commanded. She was angry, but not in the way I had thought.
"I'll try," I nodded.
"No," she shook her head, "No trying. Do not ever keep from me how greatly you are struggling again." She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes promising death. "I cannot help you, if you are not honest with me."
"I…I am sorry, Cassandra," I admitted.
She continued to stare at me, a frown pulling on the deep scar that sat near her mouth. "Anthony, my brother, was older than I. A great dragon hunter and an even greater man. I idolized him. He promised one day we would hunt together, vanquishing the beasts of old."
I knew she had a brother. That she had lost him, but she had never told me what had happened, had never spoken in depth about him. She would not idly tell me this, so I let her speak. She paused a moment, a faint smile on her mouth before it fell away.
"And then he was taken from me." Anger painted her features. "A group of apostates wanted dragon blood, but he refused, and they killed him for it…while I watched." Her gaze became intense, begging me to understand.
"Rage and vengeance became all I knew. I begged the Chantry to let me become a templar. Instead, they sent me to the Seekers." She let out a shuddering breath, looking away.
"What are you trying to tell me?" I questioned, my voice quiet.
"I was young. Magic was frightening. It all seemed pointless," she muttered, her voice shaky.
Oh…How much had I revealed when Shame had dragged me to the Fade? Deep admiration and respect for her filled my chest. "Cassandra—," I began.
"—I have not entirely let it go," she admitted, "Maker forgive me, I may never." Her eyes met mine again, understanding and empathy in their light.
"But now I know the hearts of men are to blame, not magic." She paused a moment. "Your…distrust is understandable. And no one, especially I, should expect you to let go of it overnight. But you…you were so ashamed of where your rage led you…" Her gaze softened.
"Just know, I understand."
"I can't be proud of the man I became," I murmured, "but I can begin to distance myself from all that happened."
She offered a small smile. "And in time, you will heal. You never forget…but you do heal. I thought you should know…I, too, have been hurt by magic." Clearing her throat, she brought her hands forward, fidgeting.
"But I, too, came to love a mage." My breath caught. "Gaylan. A healer. Your Talitha reminds me of him a bit. Though, he was far more…roguish." A wistful smile pulled her mouth. "I lost him at the Conclave."
"Cassandra, you don't have to—" I began, feeling unworthy of these confessions.
She shook her head. "—I wanted to tell you. I should have done so before now. I can only hope it helps you." She squared her shoulders.
"Now, for another matter." Uncertain, I looked her up and down as she grew embarrassed.
"Your courtship of Talitha." I raised a brow, but said nothing. "How…how are things progressing?"
"Well, a brief stint in the Fade where she had to rescue me from a demon sort of put a damper on things," I deadpanned in an attempt to lighten the mood, "but otherwise it's been quite charming."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Fine, be that way."
"As much as you all bet on us and our 'progress', you seem to know how we're faring better than I do," I twisted the knife in.
"The rest of us have been too stubborn and oblivious to pursue our individual romances, so we must all live vicariously through the two of you," she curled her lip, "Forgive us for indulging in a bit of fun."
My brows rose. "And pray tell, who has caught your eye, Cassandra?"
She snorted out a disgusted noise as she strode from the tower. The door slammed behind her and I fought down a laugh. But seconds later it flew back open, banging on the stone wall. Her face was urgent as she strode up to me, putting her hands on the desk as she bent to get in my face.
"Just be sure you're a man that sweeps her off her feet," she demanded, "Give her flowers, read her poetry by candlelight. Be the ideal, Cullen. You're the same as I. A warrior. Blunt and difficult and self-righteous. But beneath all that, you yearn for those things…as I do…as she does.
"She yearns for what she thinks she cannot have…that much is obvious, even if I do not know the reason why. Just because we may tease you…because others may say insensitive things to her…don't let her believe she cannot have those things." She blinked a few times, growing reserved again.
"Forgive me. I…spoke out of turn."
"No," I shook my head, "I…appreciate the advice. I have no intention of doing anything less. Though, I'm afraid reading poetry is out of the question." She seemed relieved even as she chuckled.
"You're not the first to say something similar. Did someone…did something happen?"
She looked away. "I wasn't there, but I heard…"
"What happened?" I questioned, my voice a little more commanding.
"Not everyone is…understanding. And they have no issue with…speaking plainly," she offered, remaining vague.
"Did someone hurt her?" I demanded, my voice deadly calm.
"It's not that," she shook her head, "I'm not sure how to explain. Don't delay reuniting with her. If you have any reservations or worries because of what happened…don't make her suffer for it."
"I have no intention of doing so," I stated, "I would go to her directly, if I could."
Her eyes met mine. "Then go."
"But—"
"—No, Cullen. All of this can wait. She needs you. Go."
With that, she left. And for a moment, I realized I had missed the opportune moment of assuring her that all was well. I should have strode onto that battlefield, in front of everyone, taken her in my arms and told her I love her. If I had not agreed to her father's wishes, I should have proposed to her right then.
I'm such a fool. I wrenched myself from the desk. Walking as fast as my feet could carry me across the battlements to the stone steps that spilled out on the upper bailey by The Herald's Rest.
"And who are you to tell me how to run my unit?" Solana's angry voice shouted as I neared the tavern.
"I'm not trying to tell you how to do anything, woman," the familiar voice of Rion answered, equally angry, "I'm simply trying to point out the fact that you relied too heavily on the mages. That's why you lost."
"I did no such thing," Solana retorted.
"Anyone with eyes could see that you did," Rion snorted, "Look, I'm no fan of the templars either, Fireheart, but—"
"—Don't call me that," Solana roared, "Don't you ever call me that again!"
Solana came around the side of the tavern, her face full of rage and covered in splotches. She pounded across the ground, not seeing where she was going in her anger. Then her coffee eyes caught on me. Her mouth popped open in surprise and if not for the rain, I would have thought there were tears on her cheeks.
Her face twisted into anger again. "What are you looking at?"
"N-Nothing," I began, but she shoved past me.
"Glad you're not dead," she muttered as she passed, descending the stairs to the lower bailey behind me.
Confused, I continued towards the tavern door. Rion came around the tavern wall, a bewildered look on his face. He ran a hand over his dark, cropped hair, before waving a dismissive hand in Solana's direction. When he noticed me, he gave a nod before striding inside the tavern.
"Commander Rutherford," the voice of Scout Harding greeted at my approach.
"Lieutenant," I nodded to the red-headed dwarf.
"It's good to see you on your feet, ser," she smiled, pulling her freckles,"Captain Rylen sent me ahead. He received word from Hawke and her contact. Too sensitive to risk a bird."
"I look forward to the update," I stated.
"Ser," she saluted.
I pushed the door to the tavern open, finding a lively scene before me. The Battalion was spread amongst all of the tables on the lower level, laughing and yelling happily at each other. Meira sat next to my sisters, Varric on their other side, broad smiles on all their faces as the dwarf recounted some animated tale. Barris sat with them, along with Henry, Solana's siblings, Asaala, Laren, Amelia, Belinda and even Briony. Rion went to join them, throwing an arm over Belinda's shoulders as he scooped up an ale with his free hand.
"To our Lieutenant-Commander!" Rion called for a cheer, "Though you were bested by the blandest of all templars, never have we mages seen such magic. Keep busting heads, Lieu, and you might just salvage we mages and templars yet!"
"Blandest of all templars?" Barris questioned.
"Aye," Rion nodded as he took a swig from his ale, "Blandest."
Barris snorted a rare chuckle. "What does that even mean?"
"It means you're boring!" Amelia laughed as she passed Barris an ale, leaning on his shoulder. "But that's not true, is it?"
I caught the grin pulling the man's usually stoic face. "Guilty."
"I don't believe it for a second," Varric protested, "There's some wild tale there."
"I'm sorry to disappoint," Barris shrugged.
"Commander Cullen says differently," Meira's voice challenged, "He said on your first assignment as a templar you led your men to victory against a horde of blood mages, their thralls and a pride demon all while keeping innocent bystanders from harm."
"That certainly makes me sound far more…capable than I felt," Barris stated, "And he left out the Dalish clan, Seekers and Tal-Vashoth mercenaries."
"Now, I've got to hear this one," Varric pressed.
"It really isn't all that exciting," Barris tried to dissuade them.
The rest began thumping their ales on the top of the table. "Tell us! Tell us!"
As Barris indulged them and cooly recounted his first assignment, I leaned against a nearby post and observed. Maryden began playing near the fireplace, something pulling my mind to the song even as I strained to keep my focus upon Meira. Mia and Rosalie sat and listened to Barris in fascination, the rest of the crowd no less rapt with attention. The tale was certainly wild, far more so than any report I could find had alluded to; how the man had made it out was beyond me.
"Once we sat in the light of our dreams," Maryden sang, "Once we were in our homeland with strength and might. Once we were not afraid of the night."
It was that song Meira had sung to me in the Fade. There is no shame in who you hoped to be, my knight. You can hope to be him again. As I watched the Battalion, as I watched mages and templars fraternize, I felt something ease in my chest.
Though, I would no longer be a templar, in them…in this…I saw the hope of what could be. Of what the Order could be. Of the freedom that could come. Of what Meira was feeling called to do.
Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.
Why couldn't mages stand before the corrupt and the wicked? Why couldn't mages and templars fight side by side to keep the peace and champion the just?
"Why don't you join them?" Bull's voice questioned in my ear and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I had not heard the qunari approach. How he managed to move so silently was beyond me.
"I…I would just ruin their fun," I stated.
"I think someone else would beg to differ," Bull nodded his head towards the table.
Silver eyes were on me. Meira. At Maryden's song, I had recalled all that she had seen in the Fade. Blurry before, but now the details returned in full. She had seen it all, everything that had happened to me at the hands of Desire and the blood mages. Everything that had happened in Kirkwall.
Listen to your beloved as he turned upon you! How can you not see that in me? Whatever I fear of magic, I see none of that in you.
Words said so easily then, but she had been no fool. And now? He forsook all he had sworn himself to; blaming magic and mages for all the evils of the world, becoming subjugator and nemesis. Purpose and hope lost. Both once so proud, brought to your knees at the hands of Shame!
And yet here she was, rising again. Her eyes lingered, so many emotions held in them, so many words. She broke away a moment, dismissing herself from the others, before standing.
Bull shoved me forward. I stumbled a bit, but as Meira continued to look at me, I could see the blush creeping up in her cheeks, the set of her shoulders that told me she was nervous. But nothing said she was afraid or would reject me. Swallowing down my uncertainty, I took a few steps towards her as she did me.
"Commander!" A cheery voice called, "It was amazing!" Before me stood a young lad, Sutherland, if I remembered his name correctly. He was exuberant, but collected himself.
"Ahem, I'm sorry," he apologized, before muttering under his breath, "Slow down." He straightened.
"At your word, the Inquisitor had your quartermaster outfit me and I got training to hunt bandits in the Inquisition's name." He pulled an elf male to him, a woman to his other side.
"I hired Voth and Shayd here. Then on your word again, the Inquisition sent us to patrol." He preened before me in his armor, like a child before their parent.
"And can you believe this armor? This is the fanciest I've ever been! We're hot stuff!" He collected himself again.
"All that to say, we'll be worth it, I swear."
I nodded. "Keep up the good work."
"Good work?" Sutherland said, "Did you hear that, Voth? He said, 'good work'! I can't wait for our next job!"
Meira had watched the whole exchange fighting a laugh, her jovial eyes flicking to me as Sutherland and the others walked away. Her features softened, uncertainty there, but love undeniable as well. After all that happened, she's still able to find joy and look at me like that. Maker, do I love her.
I swallowed thickly before making to close the gap between us. Her breathing was quick, her pulse pounding in her neck while she chewed on her bottom lip. Such a contrast to the confident warrior upon the battlefield I had witnessed not hours ago and I found the difference intoxicating.
I came to stand before her and she dropped her gaze, the blush on her cheeks deepening. Eyes were upon us, the noise of the tavern having quieted suspiciously. I wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to hold her, to profess my deepened love, but now was not the time.
"Hello, Lieutenant-Commander," I murmured.
"Hello, Commander," she breathed, "How did we do?"
"They've improved greatly," I assured, "I am proud of you."
"There's still work to be done," she sighed, "but we're at least headed in the right direction now."
"Take a victory where you can," I stated, "This one is well earned."
She chuckled. "You may consider taking your own advice, Commander."
My lips pulled into a grin and I watched her blush again. I opened my mouth with the intent to say something romantic, "M-Talitha, I—"
"—Commander," a voice interrupted, "Lieutenant-Commander."
I swear to all that is holy, I will tear you apart with my own bloody hands. My eyes promised death as they landed upon James.
The man was petrified, already backing away. "I apologize for the interruption, but Her Worship called for an urgent meeting in the War Room."
I turned fully to the man, causing him to flinch. "No matter how urgent the meeting, private, I swear to the Maker if you interrupt us again," I prowled towards him, causing him to shrink within himself, "I—"
"—What the Commander means to say, James," Meira's voice sounded as she came to stand at my side, "Is thank you for your dedication."
James blinked, confused. "I…of course, my lady."
"But if you would be so kind as to wait for the more opportune moment in the future," she stated, "We would be all the more grateful."
"I…my apologies, my lady," he dipped his head, "I will attempt to do so in the future."
"That's all we can ask," I grumbled as he made his retreat.
Meira laughed merrily. "Come on, my lion, before you eat him alive."
I don't know how she loves me…but she does. As we exited the tavern, I took her hand in mine and brought the back of her hand to my lips. Surprise colored her features, but I held her eyes as they met mine. "Would you…I would like to have dinner with you this evening. In the garden—if the weather clears. After nightfall."
Relief swept over her. "I would like that."
"Good," I murmured.
Together we walked up the stairs and through the open doors to the main hall. I kissed the back of her hand once more before we parted. I to collect what I needed from my office and she to do the same from her chambers. I kept watching her as she made her way through the main hall.
Emotions were knotted up in my chest as my gaze lingered upon her, for the first time since Haven, worry for her safety pooled in my belly. We are at war after all. For a brief moment, the thought that I could lose her came unbidden and fear unlike any I had ever known washed over me. To have finally found her, to have finally begun to understand how deeply she loved me—and I her; for us to have finally begun to heal…
Maker, no. Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing He has wrought shall be lost.
Still staring after her, I watched as she stopped before the door to the living quarters. The torchlight bathing her in gold, eyes of starlight shining, the sweetest of smiles on her full lips, she glanced at me. Gazing at me a moment before ducking inside.
My heart thudded unevenly in my chest, causing me to rub the back of my neck. Whatever comes…whatever happens…I beg you, my Maker, let us not be lost. Turning away, I made quick work of collecting my things before making my way to Josephine's office.
I found the Ambassador furiously scribbling with her quill, holding her head with her hand, dark brows knitted with anxiety. She seemed not to have heard me enter, her lips moving as she murmured to herself in Antivan. Approaching her desk, she startled when her dark eyes flicked up to me.
"Commander!" She gasped. "I…pardon me, I did not even hear you enter." She blinked a few times before meeting my gaze. "I thank the Maker you are well."
"Thank you, Ambassador," I nodded. "It seems I chose a poor time to…take personal leave."
She tittered. "That is an understatement, I'm afraid."
She pushed her chair back from her desk, collecting a stack of parchment and nodding towards the War Room. "Walk with me?"
As I walked beside Josephine, she hurriedly explained that we had received an official invitation from Duke Gaspard to the Winter Palace. Out of the three hands grasping for the throne, he had the most to gain from our presence. Preparations were underway, though the Ambassador worried we would run out of time. The ball was in less than a month and though we were uncertain what exactly we'd be walking into, it was clear much was at stake.
Leliana entered shortly after, followed by Ellana. We took our respective places around the War Table, but instead of opening the meeting, the others continued to pore over various notes and reports, making idle conversation while we awaited Meira. I kept looking to the wicket door, waiting for it to open.
Even though I had been anticipating her arrival, I couldn't stop my breath from catching as Meira entered the room, Solana and Barris behind her. They were chatting, Meira wearing a small smile. I couldn't help as my gaze drifted over her, really seeing her for the first time since she'd returned. Six months. We had been apart for six months. And in that time, how much had we both changed? Not only inwardly, but outwardly.
Her olive skin had deepened to a shimmery bronze, taut over the hardened angles of her face from months of travel. Gone was her armor, her training clothes, even the grime from fighting. The hair of her wig tumbled over her shoulders, her lovely ears peeking out from the waves as they fell to curl over the velvet top she wore that was dyed a deep emerald. From her waist to the floor fell a silk skirt that hugged her gentle curves. In the crook of her elbow she held her sketchbook and a few papers, the puffed sleeves of her blouse flattened. There was a slight blush on her cheeks that seemed to be deepening the longer I looked at her, but she kept her eyes on her captains. Together, they approached the table and I wanted nothing more than for her to look at me.
"Lieutenant-Commander," I started to say before I could stop myself, causing everyone to look at me, "We were—"
Starlight eyes slowly found me, that blush coloring her so beautiful, my words died in my throat. There was love, longing and a hint of worry in her gaze. Maker, she doesn't even know what or if I remember. How do I put her at ease? My lips parted, but nothing came.
"—Eagerly awaiting your presence," Leliana chimed in, causing Meira's gaze to turn to her. "Some of us, more than others."
I sensed the tease, heard the laughter in Leliana's voice. My eyes stayed with Meira, seeing her turn demure as she looked at me from beneath her lashes. I looked to Leliana, a knowing smile on her lips. Her blue eyes became piercing before they flicked pointedly to Meira.
She was trying to help me. I looked at the rest of them as they attempted to make themselves look otherwise distracted. They all were. Even Barris and Solana.
I fought down the mingled embarrassment and appreciation. We were meant to be working and here I was…flirting and failing miserably at it. So much so our Spymaster had to assist me. How in the Maker's name am I ever going to tell Meira what she means to me?
Swallowing, I tried to collect myself, "I wasn't…" I looked back to Meira, my mouth going dry as I found her eyes intent upon me. I suddenly felt hot and flustered. Assure her. "I mean, I was…" Mischief sparked in her gaze and my throat tightened as I felt everyone watching us. Losing my nerve, I looked at the map. "W-we have work to do."
"Of course," Leliana teased further. "What would your assessment of the Battalion be, Commander?"
I cleared my throat. "Lieutenant-Commander Talitha has certainly made significant progress." I looked to Barris. "I commend you on your quick thinking, Ser Barris. You displayed wisdom and prowess upon the battlefield."
Barris gave a salute. "Thank you, ser."
"Yes, you actually got your unit to work together," Ellana stated, her voice holding a reprimand in it as she looked to Solana. "Such an improvement compared to the Approach. Not that you didn't try at every opportunity, Ser Barris. Far more than your counterpart." Ellana kept her eyes on Solana, whose jaw was clenched as her fingers curled into the leather of her armor.
"Such poor leadership bled down to the whole of the Battalion. So mages and templars separated, barely scraping victories with each need they were called to. Captain Rylen was rather annoyed with your lack of ability to properly deal with the Venatori and other threats in the area, leaving my team and I to clean up your messes when I should have been working with him to prepare for the coming siege upon Adamant." Barris shifted on his feet, but kept his head up. Solana's face soured.
"Barris seems to have learned his lesson, after the Lieutenant-Commander took you all to task, but what about you, Amell? You lost, rather miserably, because you relied upon your mages—yet, again failing to trust the templars."
Solana's eyes flashed. "We need more training."
"Don't blame your soldiers for your mistakes," Ellana challenged, her chin lifting, "You were placed in the position of captain. You are their leader. It is your fault. Own up to it."
Smoke puffed out of Solana's nose. "What are you saying, Inquisitor?"
"I am saying, Captain Amell," Ellana's voice took on that commanding tone, "The Battalion is to be dispatched to deal with a few requests we have received in the nearby areas. This is its first chance to show Thedas that mages and templars can work together to put an end to magical threats." Ellana pinned Solana down with a look.
"It is, however, your last chance to prove you are worthy of the position you have been given. You will lead your unit as your Lieutenant-Commander instructs or I will command you are replaced."
We all looked to Ellana. Meira opened her mouth to speak, "Inquisitor, if I may—"
"—No, you may not," Ellana ordered, silencing Meira. No longer sister, but Inquisitor. "I understand why you chose Amell, Lieutenant-Commander. In hopes of tempering her hostility towards the templars and helping to facilitate this reformed Order you seek.
"For to win her over, to get her to bring the mages and templars together, would be to win the hearts and minds of many a rebel mage amongst us that may still harbor doubt. If I believed she had made any sort of progress in that regard, I would not be giving this ultimatum. But she hasn't, therefore I must.
"I, too, seek an end to this conflict between the mages and templars. I see your vision as the means to it, but you are blind to your Captain's faults. She has one more chance to show the people of Thedas what the Inquisition has been working so hard for."
Solana was absolutely seething, but she was not so foolish as to speak here. For Ellana's fierce eyes watched her as a predator watches their prey, daring her to give her an excuse to dismiss her right then.
"I am not blind," Meira countered, "but I understand. I will heed your order. Captain Amell is on probation."
"And who, may I ask, would replace me?" Solana bit, voice laced with rage, "What would I do instead?"
"A mage who actually seeks resolution and works towards it. That when out on the field, others will look to them—to the Inquisition—and wish to join because they see change. To work to a permanent end to this tired conflict," Ellana retorted, "As for what you would do: either remain with the Battalion or return to your original role as a healer."
Solana's coffee eyes burned with rage, steam curling off her skin. "I do seek resolution."
"Then act like it," Ellana commanded, "Set aside your prejudices and perhaps acknowledge the fact that maybe you are wrong about the templars. That mages are just as much at fault. It is the prejudices you hold that helped to spark the rebellion. That led to countless people dying. If we do not end it now, all the Inquisition will have accomplished at the end of this will be for naught." Solana stayed silent.
"That will be all, Captains." They both offered salutes before leaving.
Ellana's burning eyes looked to me. "As to the other changes our Mage Ambassador has brought about, what does our Commander think of them?"
My eyes flicked to Meira, who seemed nervous as to what I would say. "I will not deny some…concern over the use of spirits, but given that there are templars present and thus far there have been no incidents, I will try not to worry. I simply ask that we keep our safeguards in place to protect everyone." Relief flickered over her features.
"As to the rest, I take no issue with any of it. If the mages and templars are willing to try, let them."
"Very good," Ellana nodded. "Now, let's fill our Commander in on what he's missed in the past week."
As they began to speak about all I had missed, I found my eyes wandering to Meira again and again. Despite the indication that she held some worry in regards to what I would think of everything, there was something different about her. She carried herself with more confidence, to be sure, but there was something more. And whatever it was, it drew me like a moth to a flame.
Try as I might to focus, I found myself staring at her, drinking her in. Watching the way her mouth moved, the expressions she made, her brows knitting as she concentrated, the way her lashes brushed her cheeks when she blinked. Then she'd coyly study me from beneath those lashes until we realized we were looking at each other. When we caught each other staring, we'd blush and look away. She biting her full bottom lip and I rubbing the back of my neck.
Ellana let out an exasperated sigh. "By the Dread Wolf! I know how anxious you two are to be alone," she scolded looking between Meira and I, "but if you could please focus?"
"Erm," I stuttered, "Of course."
"Apologies," Meira pinked, a mischievous smile tugging her mouth as she bit her lip and glanced at me.
"Have either of you paid attention to anything?" Ellana demanded.
Meira laughed, the sound warming my chest. "Honestly? No, not at all."
"As I've said," Leliana spoke, "Sickeningly adorable."
Ellana glared at the both of us, despite the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her burning green eyes landed on me. "Then if I may, Commander, would you please invite the Lieutenant-Commander to dinner this evening so perhaps you both can be of some use here?" An evil smile pulled her lips, eyes full of challenge as she stared me down. "Or do we need to just leave you two alone for a bit to give each other a…proper greeting?"
I nearly choked on air, covering it as a cough behind my hand "That's…not necessary, Inquisitor," I quickly stated, eyes flicking to Meira who was glaring at Ellana, the air in the room plummeting. "Please continue."
Ellana shook her head before looking back to Josephine. "As you were saying, Josephine?"
Josephine looked between us, a fond smile on her face. "We have officially received an invitation. We have our way in. Grand Duke Gaspard asks that we be his guests. The Inquisitor, specifically. The real question is: where is our enemy hiding?"
"Why Gaspard and not Celene?" Meira inquired.
"The Empress," Josephine subtly scolded, "is holding the ball at the urging of Grand Duchess Florianne, her cousin and Gaspard's younger sister. Absolutely everyone will be there. During the festivities, Celene will be meeting for the peace talks with Duke Gaspard, a usurper, and Ambassador Briala, who has been harassing both sides of the civil war through her vast underground network of elves."
"Celene made quite the scandal in granting the title of 'ambassador' to Briala," Leliana chimed in, as she clasped her hands behind her back, "For Briala has organized the elves of Halamshiral into an underground army. The Empress invited her to the peace talks in a bid to gain the elves' alliance in the war.
"In so doing, she acknowledged the threat Briala poses while giving legitimacy to her given title before the people of Orlais. That would be scandal enough without the rumor that it is all to cover over that Briala is a jilted lover taking vengeance upon the Empress for her betrayal. A personal grudge and a network of saboteurs at her command? A promising lead."
"Wait," Ellana put a hand up, closing her eyes as she mulled over Leliana's words, "The elven leader is a jilted lover of the Empress?"
"It's not widely known," Leliana shrugged, playing with one of her markers on the map, "Just a rumor whispered among the palace servants a few years ago. Briala was first Celene's trusted handmaid and spy. There are those who recollect her serving Celene as a child, her parents servants in the Valmont home before her.
"Little is known about her beyond that, as she did not become of interest until Celene took the throne, Briala never far from her side. It is hard to say how influential Briala has been as Celene has been criticized as being too soft towards the elves." This caused Ellana's face to darken.
"Further exasperated by the Grand Duke when he commissioned a play in the Grande Royeaux Theater that inflamed the speculation that Celene has an affection for—" Leliana cut herself off as she looked to Ellana and Meira.
"Elves?" Ellana raised a brow.
"Quite," Leliana nodded, "In truth, the elves have fared better under Celene's rule than under any previous ruler since the fall of Halamshiral. But Gaspard's move pushed Celene to salvage her reputation. Riots and rebellion had broken out amongst the elven alienage following the murder of an elf with impunity by a certain nobleman. Celene was facing greater and greater criticism for her 'overly lenient' treatment of the elves, so she sent her chevaliers in to crush the rebellion. Much of the alienage was burned and many elves slain."
"So, we're good enough to clean her messes and warm her bed, but get too out of hand and she slaughters us all." Anger bled into her voice. "I hate Orlais."
Leliana cleared her throat. "During the attack, Gaspard attempted to ambush Celene with a large force of chevaliers. The Empress's forces were routed, but Celene managed to escape, depriving Gaspard of the quick victory he'd hoped to obtain. With the Empress in hiding and Gaspard unable to take the throne, Orlais plunged into chaos. If it is true and were to get out—the Empress and an elf—the scandal could destroy Celene's court. Even if a lie, Briala could use it to blackmail the empress."
"The political situation of Halamshiral is hanging by a thread," Josephine continued, "The Empress fears our presence could sever it, thus her attempts to bar us from coming. The Grand Duke is only too happy to have us at the ball as his guests." Josephine's brow knit with worry. "Wether we are his allies, or upset the balance of power, he gains an opportunity…if not a clear advantage."
"Given the Grand Game's nature, the assassin must be hiding within one of their factions," Leliana stated. "Wether Gaspard or Briala are in league with Corypheus or the agent would act alone, using the shifting balance of power as a cover, we cannot be sure."
"What do we know about Grand Duke Gaspard?" Ellana questioned.
"The man who would have been emperor," I began. I had studied a great deal about the Duke, even before needing to know more of him to prepare for the Winter Palace. A military minded man who'd garnered much respect amongst his army, his personal history had interested me.
"He's Celene's cousin, and was first in line to inherit the throne when Emperor Florian died. Celene outmaneuvered him. She won over the Council of Heralds, who hold authority over title disputes. She became Empress, and he a general in the Imperial Army when she placed him in command following a Nevarran invasion in the land of Larécolte.
"He wrested the land back after challenging the Nevarran commander to a duel, which he won in less than a minute. Generally perceived as a man of honor, if not given to the Orlesian flavor of insults, he's well loved by the troops. He's also a chevalier, an earned position, at first disputed until he proved himself in his first Grand Tourney.
"Defeating several veterans and placing well in both the joust and race, but what marked him was his gracious forfeit in the Grand Melee. His weapon broken, he tossed it upon the ground instead of risking injury to his opponent and dishonor to himself and the chevalier code of honor. Most of their number sided with him when he turned on the Empress."
"Aren't the chevaliers part of the army?" Ellana probed. "Why would they follow the Duke?"
"Most chevaliers are sworn to serve the crown, but that does not give them faith in the person wearing it," I explained, "The Empress has tried to improve relations with Ferelden and Nevarra. The chevaliers see her as antimilitary. They believe Gaspard could lead the Empire back to the glory days of Drakon's expansion years."
"So, he's a warmonger?" Ellana summarized. "He turns against his cousin—and Empress—and his troops support him because he has dreams of expanding Orlais's borders?"
"Or he turned against his cousin, who first turned on him, in an effort to take back the throne and steer his country to a better path. He would see the Empire strengthened, whereas Celene has been content to focus upon its enlightenment," I countered. "Let's not forget that he extended the invitation, not Celene."
"But to our gain or his?" Ellana mused. "If he is the one attempting to assassinate Celene, adding us into the mix would serve as a distraction."
"Or he hopes we can clear his name should the need arise," I offered, "He could very well be a target. Corypheus's goal is chaos. It won't matter how he obtains it."
"What exactly began the civil war?" Meira questioned, pulling my eyes to her.
"Oddly enough, tension was renewed at another royal ball," I smirked, "Bann Teagan Guerrin, King Alistair's chosen ambassador to Ferelden, was present. Gaspard ordered a bard to sing an inflammatory song before flaunting a sword claimed to belong to Moira Theirin, the Rebel Queen. All in a bid to offend Ferelden and provoke a war."
Meira's lips twitched. "He should have added an insult in to mabari, that would have really pushed Ferelden's hand."
I chuckled. "Indeed."
"Instead," Josephine cut in, "Celene attempted to resolve the situation by asking her champion, a Ser Michel de Chevin, to duel Bann Teagan with feathers."
"The mistake the Empress made, was the feathers," I explained, "They were the same as those worn in the masks of chevaliers to mark their rank. It offended many that she used such an esteemed token in so trivial a way."
"Was that all?" Ellana questioned, her voice exasperated. The elven female had less patience for Orlesians than even myself.
"There are rumors that Gaspard proposed to Celene," Leliana informed her, "But she declined—despite the peace such a union would have brought. Further rumors claim Gaspard drew his sword on her then, but Celene disarmed him with a hidden dagger."
"If such rumors are true, why did she not have him imprisoned?" Meira questioned, "Surely an outright assassination attempt upon the Empress, even in Orlais, would garner such consequences?"
"Then Gaspard would have been a martyr in the eyes of his supporters," I stated, "Without proof, her opposition would hardly believe Celene. Civil war would have broken out all the sooner."
Ellana nodded before looking to Josephine. "Tell me everything we know about the Empress."
"Empress Celene is a renowned diplomat and reformer," Josephine began, "She works tirelessly to secure peace for the Empire. Unfortunately, many Orlesians view peace as complacency. She has yet to name an heir, leaving the future of the Empire in doubt if anything happens to her. Especially when the next in line is her cousin Gaspard, who's made few friends on the Council of Heralds."
"What is the Council of Heralds?" Ellana questioned, looking over the names of its current members that Josephine had passed to her. "How does it work?"
"Titles and heraldry of the Orlesian nobility were banned by Emperor Drakon," Josephine began, "but it led to chaos. Emperor Judicael created the Council in an attempt to put an end to the political turmoil—which had cost his brother his life—and win over the nobles of his court. In so doing, the council became the final arbiter over all disputes involving titles, so that no one person could dole out titles as they saw fit…or to give themselves political advantages.
"When Emperor Florian died without naming an heir, the Council was called upon to decide between Celene and the Grand Duke. While Gaspard was the oldest, Celene held the Valmont name and played the Game expertly enough to win the Council to her side. She gained the throne, pushing Gaspard behind her in the line of succession."
"Thus Gaspard's wish to usurp her," I commented, "His claim to the throne is no less valid."
"How can Gaspard still be next in line when he wages war against his Empress?" Ellana's confusion was understandable.
"The title 'Grand Duke' indicates that he was a prince before the Empress took the throne," I answered, "Therefore he still has a claim to it by blood. If Orlais did not operate via the Grand Game and the Council of Heralds, the throne—by birthright and age—would be Gaspard's. But Celene has the Valmont name, which puts her in favor in the eyes of the people and the Council as it is the familial name of the royal bloodline."
"I know we said warning her is pointless, but did we at least attempt it?" Ellana asked.
"We sent messages before Haven was destroyed. They never reached her," Leliana explained, "Someone intercepted them. Celene is surrounded at all times by countless guards, courtiers, servants and vassals. To stop such messages and to even attempt to take her life, makes it clear that the threat comes from inside her own household."
"As much as I would prefer not to go," I sighed, "It's better that we don't leave this to chance. If Orlais falls to Corypheus, no land is safe. If not for them, Tevinter would not be kept at bay."
"This still leaves the matter of who is going to be Inquisitor," Ellana proposed, "You hand me a list of names, tell me the powers vying for Orlais are equally horrible, expect me to save a pompous empress's life all while acting polite and coy with people of overly inflated egos who would rather I be locked in a Circle, cleaning their floors or rutting me than have me leading the Inquisition. How many times will I have to hear knife-ear, savage, or…what's the one they think is endearing, Leliana?"
The spymaster shifted on her feet, the barest hint at being uncomfortable. "Rabbit."
I saw Meira stiffen in my peripheral. Her eyes went wide, her gaze unfocused for a moment, before she collected herself.
"Right. Rabbit. They really think they're clever, don't they?" Ellana bared her teeth in a smile. "I'd sooner rip their throats out with my teeth than play nice with them."
"Inquisitor," Josephine began, her face blanching at such a statement, "We would hardly expect you to endure such unforgivable behavior."
"All I am saying is if you want success," Ellana warned, "Put my sister in my place."
"So, you'd have her endure such abuse?" I bit, "Because you refuse to have your feathers ruffled?"
Burning green eyes glared at me. "How dare you even insinuate—"
"—Enough," Meira snapped, "I am standing right here and can speak for myself. Commander," my spine snapped straight at her commanding tone, her eyes no less fierce, "I appreciate the want to protect me from harm, but I have endured far worse than words." I gave her a nod. "The Inquisitor is far less…patient in her manners than I. A quality you share. I can play the Game and keep her protected."
"Forgive me, but you're no longer identical," Josephine insisted, "You cannot pose as her."
"Then we wear masks," Ellana challenged, "Is that not the tradition for Orlais? Is the ball not a grand masquerade?"
"But we are the Inquisition," Josephine pressed, "It would set an…unfavorable precedence."
"Hardly, Josie," Leliana disagreed, "especially if we were to all wear the same masks. It would be no different than Celene's ladies-in-waiting. That along with the attire that's been designed, we would still appear a united, military front. Even more so when we do not have faces."
"Besides, if we look too distinct from the rest of the crowd, wouldn't we risk giving away why we are there?" Ellana probed. "We know we're there to stop an assassination, but to everyone else, we're simply guests of Gaspard in his attempt to stir up unrest. If we're to appear a neutral party, wouldn't it be better to play the Game in its entirety?"
Josephine sighed. "I will think on it. Have masks designed and sent to me for approval. I will have them commissioned. We can decide before we go. But for now, Inquisitor, you best prepare for your meeting with the Qun. Which reminds me, I need to speak with The Iron Bull about his attire…" She flipped through the papers on her board. "I think that is all for now."
"We depart in the morning," Ellana stated, "Keep us updated while we're away. We should be back within a fortnight."
"Inquisitor," we all saluted.
As the others prepared to leave, Meira seemed unsure what to do. She hesitated next to the War Table, but then made to move. Ellana caught sight of her and turned, putting a hand up before pointing a finger at me.
"Oh no, you stay put. You two are getting this out of your system. Now." Her burning green eyes flicked to where I stood. "Arrangements have already been made. Just be in the garden no later than the ninth bell."
I nodded. "Yes, Inquisitor."
Making my way around the table to where she stood, she kept her back to me a moment. "Are you really…alright with everything? In regards to the mages and templars, I mean? The magic?"
I came around to her front, meeting her eyes. It was time to show her. Holding my hand out, a smirk on my face, I murmured, "Come with me, love."
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