The Commander visited him a week later. Samson could tell Cullen had been at war with himself whether or not to come, but it didn't matter. Cullen was always stubborn; he couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel unless it was directly ahead, and Samson had long since given up trying to convince him to see the bigger picture of anything.

So when the door to his cell opened and Cullen stood, tall and foreboding, darkening the doorway, Samson sucked his teeth, completely unsurprised.

"Come to gloat, Commander?" He asked. "Or is there something you actually needed from me?"

Cullen was less volatile, he noticed, but the white lines of tension around his mouth gave him away. The man always did have the patience of a fucking five year old. Samson couldn't even bring himself to laugh at how little the man had changed beneath the surface. And he had the audacity to stand on that dais and judge him, as if his own conscience were clean.

"I have come for information," he said harshly, shutting the door behind him, "and to warn you."

"Warn me of what? The coming doom?" Samson laughed. "A bit late for that, ain't it?"

Cullen's eyes narrowed. He wasn't going to hit Samson, much as he would have liked to, but nor would he tolerate the man's insolence and cavalier attitude toward the gravity of the situation. He should have convinced Hadiza to side with the Templars, should have been more forceful in his petition, but Hadiza had refused, choosing the mages over the Order. Had they gone to Therinfall Redoubt, Samson would not have become what he was.

There might have been a chance to save and redeem him.

"There are still Red Templar groups scattered throughout Thedas," Cullen said after a while, "we need their locations." Samson stared at Cullen, who hadn't moved too far beyond the door. He sat on his cot, leaning against the wall, trying to figure out what the hell the man was on about. He needed locations? Why? To send Hadiza out to burn them away? Samson couldn't argue that logic, but in truth, even he wasn't sure exactly where all his former troops were. Not that Cullen needed to know that, but the lyrium—red or no—still fucked with one's memory.

"Yeah, well I can't very well tell you without a fuckin' map can I?" He demanded. Cullen's eye twitched, and those white lines of tension appeared around his mouth again. Samson intended to take what little victories he could in his defeat. He'd not let this self-righteous prig badger him into submission. He was already beaten, there was no need for hostility.

"Was there ever any honor in you at all?" Cullen demanded quietly. Samson stared at him, and he couldn't believe the nerve. How far up one's own ass did their head have to be to be this fucking self-righteous? Samson tipped his head forward, allowing the weak torchlight to capture the preternatural glaze of his eyes.

"You keep using that word, Commander, as if your being in the Inquisition absolves you of your own sins" Samson said with a slight sneer, "The Herald of Andraste offering out cleansings, now? That part of her job when you've got her on her back? Never took you the type to shit where you eat."

Cullen lunged but stopped himself, reining in his composure hard, but wanting nothing more than to tear the man's head from his shoulders. Samson grinned. Cullen was still an easy fucking mark. Samson hadn't even known he was fucking the Inquisitor, but apparently he had is answer.

"I acknowledge fully what I've done, Samson, but at least I was never willingly complicit in it."

It was Samson's turn to lose his temper.

"You can lie to yourself, Commander," he snapped, "you can even lie to your pretty prophet, but don't you dare stand there and tell that lie to me. Don't you dare tell me you weren't complicit. How many requests for the Rite of Tranquility crossed your desk before they even reached Meredith? How many fucking rape reports did you file away and never follow up with an investigation? How many mages suffered under that fucking tyrant bitch before the Champion had to come and thrash some good sense into you all? You were her second in command, Cullen. You knew, you saw, you had to if the chain of command was being followed. You knew and you saw and you turned your fucking back on all of it. Don't talk to me about complicity until you've acknowledged your own."

Cullen drew back as if struck. He might as well have been. Samson was snarling at him, but the words…the words were all truth. The memories rose up in his mind and he remembered, so many broken faces; men and women alike, who had the hope drained out of them. How many of those reports did he bother to look over? He'd been so filled with contempt for mages that he hadn't even bothered to listen to them…or help them. Maker! But Samson wasn't done with him yet.

"And now you think because you're fucking a pretty mage who happens to be your leader, that somehow absolves you of sin and guilt?" Samson raised his voice, spittle flying from his mouth as his anger swept him. He rode his anger, heady and exhilarating, the first true emotion he'd felt in weeks.

"Did you tell her about Kirkwall, Cullen? Did you tell her had she been there she might have been one of the many mages whose suffering you ignored? Or did you gloss over it like the coward you are, hoping she'd hand-wave your past in favor of whatever mask you wear now? Andraste's flaming sword I bet she can't even cast a simple healing spell around you without you flinching."

Cullen lunged, and this time, his fist took Samson right in the jaw. He didn't care about the stitches in the man's lip, or his still-healing nose. He just wanted to hurt him. Samson deserved to suffer for what he'd done. He'd admitted his guilt, proud of the choice he'd made in corrupting the Red Templars, and all but saying he'd do it again. Cullen pulled back, but Samson was grinning through bloodied teeth.

"You can't even face it, can you?" He laughed, "Can't even fathom that you are just like me, only you got the girl in the end."

Cullen's face was red, and he turned to leave.

"May your corruption be swift," he spat, and slammed the door behind him, trying to ignore Samson's mocking laughter.

He didn't look Hadiza in the eye for the remainder of the day.