Part 23
Shield Me
Asltyr spent the night on the temple floor. She woke the next morning to the concerned faces of the workmen who had come to finish up repairs on the tunnel. Cole was still seated at Astlyr's side, though she had tipped over some point during the night and curled up like a child in her cloak. A very large child. She hastily tried to dismiss her presence to the workmen, who muttered to one another and a few of them laughed. Perhaps they were already chalking it up to the usual odd behavior of their leader. A woman who jumped off of walls and banished people to the Fade.
Once Astlyr had extricated herself and Cole from the situation she heaved a sigh and straightened her back. "Last night I thought my bed felt too soft," she admitted to the spirit boy. "The me of today would have told the me of last night to suck it up."
Cole made no comment. He was back to his pale, sorrowful looking self, though there did seem to be a hint of a spring in his step. He kept shooting her furtive little glances as though uncertain what to say. Astlyr imagined this was because they were both feeling the same thing. What was the protocol when you have just discovered you've been chosen by a spirit? What was that spirit meant to do or say? Did this change anything? Finally Cole did speak, and she felt a great sense of relief as she and he walked side by side towards the temple stairs leading up to the courtyard. "I don't think anything needs to change," he said. "I think everything that was supposed to change already has."
"I suppose you're right," Astlyr agreed, cutting a sideways glance at her friend.
"All it means is that now I don't have to be afraid." he said, a hint of the boy he had been in the Fade coming through in his tone.
Astlyr blinked as she and Cole broke into the dawn sunlight as through a layer of ice. Though the burgeoning day was cold as ever, the sun managed to send a gentle touch of warmth to kiss Astlyr's upturned cheeks. She hesitated, staying her friend with her hand and turning to face him, "Cole, you never needed to be afraid, you just didn't know it."
"I didn't believe it," he admitted. "I saw it in your thoughts sometimes, how much you ache to protect me, and everyone you love. I just...I wasn't certain you could protect me. Now I see that we are made to protect one another."
"I'm glad you feel more secure," she said, meaning it deeply.
Astlyr had another thought. "You told me that you were noticing other people's pain less lately, and those of your friends more. Has that gotten worse?"
Cole shook his head, shaggy hair falling into his eyes as his hat brim flopped. "No. It's the same. Your pain cries to me loudly and sometimes the others only whisper, but I can still hear them. I have to try harder to hear them, but I can."
"Is that alright?" she asked, a tense feeling in her chest. She didn't want to ruin his happy discovery.
"Yes. I can listen for the whispers, and I don't need to answer every shout from your pain. I will learn this new way. I want to learn it."
Astlyr threw an arm around Cole and tugged him to her for a hug as they walked. It was an abrupt and slightly clumsy motion, but the boy went along with it willingly, even managing to look slightly less miserable. "I'm more pleased than you know that you're happy, Cole," she said, freeing him from the awkward hug.
"You're hungry, and Josephine is looking for you," Cole announced, tilting his chin up so she could see his sunken eyes beneath the hat brim. "I will leave you for now. Your business is important."
"Alright," she gave him a warm smile. "Thank you for showing me what you found, Cole. It's wonderful."
"It is wonderful." Cole managed to beam, even while simultaneously looking as though he had just been told terrible news. She shook her head and chuckled as he left her in a puff of disturbed snow and cold air.
"Breakfast," she muttered to herself as she made her way towards the tavern. Perhaps she would meet some of her friends there. She idly wondered if anyone besides Josephine had realized that she had not slept in her bed. She was pleasantly surprised that she was not as sore as she expected. Perhaps her body was getting used to sleeping on floors. She rolled her shoulder. It was stiff, but she could work that out later in the practice yard. It looked as though it would be a fine day for it.
"Inquisitor!" Josephine's voice was a little shrill and Astlyr almost dropped her forkful of egg. It was still early enough in the morning that the tavern breakfast crowd was not in yet, but Krem had been about and the two of them had settled down for a hearty meal. Krem related the capture of the three mages with a look of cocky pleasure on his face. He had situated cups and cutlery around the table to demonstrate the trap they had laid and how it had been sprung on the unfortunate terrorists. Krem had been just about to punctuate the final glorious moments with a slam of fist against table when the diplomat had entered in a tizzy.
"Yes, Josie?" Astlyr said, jamming the egg into her mouth with the fresh realization that her meal may be cut short by matters of state.
"Where have you been? I've been searching Skyhold for an hour! I was just about to alert the guard!"
"Make's balls, you didn't did you?" Astlyr sat up. The last thing she needed was Jones setting her people to combing the fortress. Or worse, rousing Cullen and distressing him with no reason.
"No," Josephine said, already visibly calming. She gave Krem a friendly nod and a quick smile of greeting. The woman was nothing if not polite.
"Cole and I had some early morning business to attend to," Astlyr said, as casually as she could. She decided not to share last night's sleeping arrangements in that moment. The workmen would no doubt tell tales of the Inquisitor's latest oddness. She didn't need to grease the gossip wheel herself.
"After yesterday's...judgment," Josie picked her words carefully, "Cassandra felt it prudent to inform the Commander and myself of what you discovered in your travels. And more importantly, whom."
"Ah," Astlyr stood, grabbing a piece of toast and piling a bit of egg onto it, "Thank you for joining me this morning Krem," she said hastily. "I'm afraid Josephine and I have important matters to-"
"No need to be formal with me, Boss," Krem interjected, chuckling at the two women. "Get on, I'll finish up your portion. It'll be a hardship, let me tell you," the man put on a long suffering expression which was about as convincing as his statement.
Astlyr gave Krem a sassy grin and followed Josephine out of the tavern, munching on her egg and toast as best she could. "What are your thoughts?" she asked around a mouthful.
"I am uncertain what to think. I might have chided you for bringing another potentially dangerous person into our fortress, but in truth that was always Leliana's job more than mine. I admit I am quite poor at chiding. I...I cannot say what I think for certain. We have set guards over this Lady Ghilan person, but I am still uneasy. Do you truly believe her to be a goddess?"
Astlyr hushed the diplomat was a gesture, even though the courtyard was deserted that morning. Work would begin soon on the mage tower, though most of the repairs were now interior. "I don't know what I think either, to be honest. I have been slowly coming around to this idea of elvish gods. Or at least, of long-lived beings that believe themselves to be gods. Certainly at one time they were powerful and held a great deal of sway."
"And from what I hear, some of them desire this again," Josephine said, moving slightly ahead to take the lead, a challenge when faced with Astlyr's long stride. She indicated that they were heading for Skyhold proper. Astlyr imagined that they would continue their conversation in Josie's office, but to her surprise the woman led the way to Fen'Harel's rooms.
Inside Astlyr saw that Fen and Cullen were both pouring over some papers spread on the small desk. "Is this our new war table then?" Astlyr asked as she entered, brows raised.
"Ah," Cullen looked up, "there you are. Josephine left to find you over an hour ago. I was beginning to think she got lost."
"No. I was the one who wandered off from the herd," Astlyr caught a searching flash of Cullen's gold-flecked eyes to hers, which told her he had been concerned about her absence, but was too wise to throw everyone into an uproar over it just yet. She gave him a quick smile before his gaze left hers. "So what crisis are we averting today?"
"Well, we're not certain it's a crisis yet. It may well be, in time." Cullen replied, shuffling a few papers aside with a grunt of annoyance. She knew he favored neatness and Fen'Harel's hap-hazard style made him chafe.
Astlyr moved to stand beside the two men, peering over their shoulders. She couldn't make heads or tails of the jumble of parchment they had set out. There were maps, lists, letters, it all made Astlyr's eyes cross. Josephine filled in, knowing that all of this was somewhat outside the inquisitor's wheelhouse. "As you know, Fen'Harel claims that the...being... known as Mythal may be seeking to change the world to her liking, which, according to Fen, would mean the subjugation or even attempted elimination of the other races."
"I can't see that happening," Cullan stood back from the papers, arms folded, brows raised. "The sheer manpower that would take. I don't think there are enough elves in the world to make a go of that."
"She will try," Fen'Harel looked up as well, flicking his head to clear his brown curls from his face. "She will gather her fellow gods around here and there will be great loss of life."
"How would she gather and move her troops?" Cullen asked, in a tone which suggested they had tread this ground already.
"As I have told you, Commander, I do not yet know," Fen sounded annoyed and his blue eyes flashed.
Cullen bristled but recovered himself quickly. "Indeed. What I am saying, Inquisitor, is that while these beings may think themselves all powerful, to achieve the goals they may or may not have set would be impossible."
"What about the Eluvians?" Astlyr questioned. "Was that how the elves used to travel?"
"It would be highly impractical and nearly impossible to move such a number via the mirror gates. It would be like trying to get an army through a single door." Fen said, though his voice held no scorn for her idea.
"So if the elves do attack what we must do is try to prevent loss of life?" Astlyr questioned. She took a moment to look around the room. Ghilan'nain was not there. Judging by the guards she had passed in the hall the goddess of the halla was one door down from this one, on the other side of Myfanwy's room. Astlyr glanced towards Myfanwy's door, which was closed. She hoped the raised voices were not bothering the elf if she was still attempting to sleep.
Astlyr's thoughts were so distracted that she almost didn't hear Cullen continuing to speak. "Fen'Harel has urged us to seek out more of the foci in an attempt to hinder this 'Mythal' in her efforts."
"Though she has likely already released several of our fellows," Fen said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with finger and thumb. Astlyr noticed that his eyes were red rimmed and he held himself with an air of weariness. She wondered if he had been up all night with this problem. Cullen and Josie looked well rested, so it was obvious the elf had chosen to toil alone until morning. "I do not know what other measures she may be taking in an attempt to fulfill her plans, misguided as they are."
"Do you think it has anything to do with Morrigan's flight?" Astlyr asked, folding her arms and wishing she had been able to finish her breakfast.
"Where are we at?" Cassandra entered the room suddenly in a flurry of precise motion. "I'm sorry I'm late. I had to set my men on their guard rotations and listen to reports from last night. Nothing of note occurred," she clarified when the others looked at her expectantly.
"Small favors," Astlyr breathed. She watched the warrior woman easily slide into the conversation as though she had always been there. Astlyr knew that Cas and Cullen took it in turns to set the guards and hear the reports. An intelligent use of the two experienced commanders. Astlyr was pleased that they had come to this on their own. Where two others might have felt threatened by one another, the Seeker and the Commander were able to see one another's strengths and utilize them. Alstyr could only hope to one day be as level-headed and competent as those two.
"I'm afraid-" Josephine raised her voice over Cullen, who was rushing through an explanation of the conversation thus far for Cas, "that I have some news to add this morning." She settled a few papers atop her writing board, standing patiently, awaiting acknowledgment.
"What have you found, Josie?" Astlyr turned to the diplomat, glad that she might have something to add to the conversation. With all these military folk talking is was beginning to feel as if there were 'too many generals at the war table'. An old pal of hers in the mercenary band had coined that term when everyone in the group decided they wanted to come up with the plans all at once.
"As you are aware, our spies have been keeping close track of the goings on in Tevinter and Orlais. Word of slave market raids and alienages going empty has slowed, but just last night a small band of our spies returned with a most unusual report."
"Are you going to keep us in suspense?" asked Cassandra, raising a brow at the Antivan's flair for the dramatic.
"We have word that Dalish elves are seen to be gathering in and around Halamshiral."
"Is that unusual?" Astlyr questioned, tilting her head slightly.
"Not necessarily," Myfanwy had just opened the door to her room, obviously unable to pretend she was asleep any longer.
Astlyr was startled as she took in the elvish woman. The marks which had decorated Myfanwy's face and neck were gone, leaving pale, perfect flesh as though they had never been. Perhaps, Astlyr thought, she had been wrong believing the marks to be tattoos. Perhaps the elf painted them on periodically with special dye? Astlyr would be the first to admit she knew little to nothing about cosmetics. Myfanwy took Astlyr's scrutiny in stride, offering a quick explanation as the others noticed as well. "Lord Fen'Harel explained to me that the Vallaslin, the blood writing, is not what the Dalish believe it to be. We thought it brought us closer to our gods when in reality they are slave marks, binding us to a certain god's will."
"I asked if she wished hers to be removed. I have had, and yet have, no desire for mindless followers," Fen'Harel said, not raising his head from the papers he studied.
"Are you pleased that you removed them?" Astlyr questioned.
"Yes," Myfanwy said, and she did look happy with her decision, though it was odd to see her face so unmarked. "The Vallasin of Fen'Harel was one that my family created, as we knew no other followers of his. How foolish we were to mark ourselves as the slaves of one who kept no slaves."
"That is fascinating," said Josephine, who had been scribbling notes as the elf had explained. Her chestnut eyes were bright with interest.
Myfanwy raised an eyebrow at the diplomat then turned back to Astlyr and her two commanders, "I overheard you speaking of Halamshiral and of a gathering of Dalish there."
"Yes," Cullen affirmed, giving the woman his full attention, "Do you have knowledge of this?"
"I was born in a Dalish clan, as you know," Myfanwy explained, settling herself against the desk and leaning back with her hands resting on the mess of papers. "I was young when my mother and father were banished because of their unpopular beliefs. Still, I learned from them what I had not gathered from the clan. It is not uncommon for Dalish to gather at Halamshiral for what is known as an Arlathvhen. A meeting of the clans to exchange knowledge, artifacts, and even members. Mages are often traded from clan to clan at these meetings. Too many mages in one clan is considered bad for a number of reasons, not the least of which is drawing the attention of the Chantry," she shot a dark look towards Cullen, though she quickly cleared her face of any anger, perhaps with the understanding that this particular templar was different from the ones who may have persecuted her people. "My father was a mage, so he told us all about these situations. He was traded from his original clan at an Arlathvhen when he came into his magic."
"So this gathering may well be an ordinary occurrence?" Cassandra asked, folding her well muscled arms.
"It may be," Myfanwy affirmed, "though it is odd for them to hold an Arlathvhen in the winter, I have heard of such a thing happening in times of crisis, or when it is deemed important that the clans meet."
"Perhaps they are gathering to regroup after the situation with Corypheus," Cullen offered.
"Or," Fen'Harel spoke again, raising his head at last, blue eyes roving over the faces of the group, "they are gathering to meet with their gods."
"We should do our best to find out," Astlyr turned to Josephine. "Does our spymaster have fresh men he can send to investigate further?"
The diplomat flipped through a few pages on her writing board and scrutinized a list. "I shall discuss it with him immediately. It is times like this I miss Leliana, I'm sorry, I mean Her Holiness."
Astlyr stifled a chuckle at the title. It was still difficult to imagine the slight, mysterious, woman wearing robes and sitting haughtily on the sunburst throne. Though it was easy for Astlyr to understand the power this would afford her old adviser. Leliana was always one to have her hands in everything and Astlyr could almost see the tendrils of influence the woman must now command, spanning from chantry to chantry like a web. She would not have been the least bit surprised to learn that Leliana still had spies in Skyhold, keeping an eye on things there.
"Until we know more about this...Arlathvhen," Cullen pronounced the word carefully, "what do we tell people? Should the elves here be informed?"
"No," Fen'Harel's voice was too loud and clipped. "I believe that would be a grave mistake. Especially with Mythal in the world doing just that. It would have reverberative repercussions to the delicate balance here at Skyhold. We have those who believe in the Chant standing alongside those who wear the mark on Mythal on their faces. If we tip the scale; if we tell them that the elvish gods walk abroad, it could bring chaos to our home."
Astlyr did not fail to notice that Fen'Harel had referred to Skyhold as his home, and she felt an odd gratification at his words. "Alright. We will continue to keep this to ourselves. The people will be fully informed at such a time as it becomes necessary. Until then we will continue to state that Ghilan is a visiting mage and friend of the Inquisition."
Cullen gave a slight grimace, his hand against the back of his neck as he took in a tight breath. Astlyr knew he didn't like the idea of keeping things from his men. He felt that everyone should have all the facts whenever possible. Still, he must have seen the sense of it because he did not comment, merely looked pained.
Myfanwy grabbed her cloak from a peg on the wall. Obviously she had places to go that morning. She glanced back at the group and Astlyr was once again struck by her unmarked face. It would take her a while to get used to it, she mused. "Do you still have need of me?" Myfanwy asked.
"I don't. How about the rest of you?" Astlyr turned to her advisers and Fen.
"I believe we have asked all the questions we have for you at the moment," said Cullen. "Unless there is more you can add to our knowledge of what the Dalish might be doing at Halamshiral."
"I have told you all I can," Myfanwy said, earnestly. "Call on me if you think of anything else," she encouraged as she left.
Once the elf was gone Cullen turned to the others, an expression of concern still on his face. "I did not want to mention it until she Myfanwy had departed. I've been told that the 'god' aiding Mythal is known as 'the god of vengeance.'"
Fen'Harel looked up, his face grim. "Indeed, he is."
Josephine caught on, "if the elves are gathering at the instruction of this-" she checked her notes, "Elgar'nan- should we not be concerned for the empress? I am certain that Elgar'nan will have heard of Celine's actions against the elves of Halamshiral. She has much elvish blood on her hands."
"Indeed," Cullen nodded, a grave expression on his face.
"Should we warn the empress?" Astlyr asked, watching her people with a practiced eye, gauging their worry. The hard line between Cassandra's eyes spoke louder than her words might have. "Will she listen to us?"
"You saved her life, and then the world," Josephine pointed out, scribbling madly. "If you do not have her ear now, I am not certain who does. Though she will be dubious. She is in a position of firmer power now than she has been in some time, since our elimination of her recent opposition, Briala and Gaspard."
"We must use caution," Cassandra warned. "The last thing we need is Celine's supporters getting word that elves may be trying to kill her and have another attempted purge on our hands."
Astlyr glanced at Fen'Harel who was keeping his head low again with clear determination. She wondered what he thought of the empress who had murdered so many elves. As Solas he had said little, though he had not spoken in favor of the woman. Astlyr thought back on the pale, seemingly fragile Orlaisian leader. Had that delicate creature truly ordered the slaughter of so many? Astlyr could tell by the set of Fen'Harel's shoulders that he might have been happier if the empress had met her end during the ball at the Winter Palace. "So we shall send a message, but use discretion."
"Our most trusted messanger must be sent," Josephine agreed. "With a verbal message only, nothing written; and with strict direction to deliver it only to Celine herself."
"Is there a chance she will use this to justify another attack of the elves?" Cassandra asked.
"She has less proof than we do that the elves may plan against her her, and we only have scraps," Astlyr said, knowing she was wishing her words were true more than knowing they were.
"She would be hard pressed to find an adequate reason to attack them now. Especially as her popularity plummeted significantly after the first purge." Josephine replied.
"Alright, well...I suppose we have our plan then," Cullen said, rubbing the back of his neck and scanning the mess of papers on Fen'Harel's desk with an uneasy eye.
Josephine's quill scritched across her paper as she took a few last minute notes. "Alright, I shall do my best with the contacts we have, and perhaps I can find us a few more. The Inquisition still has a good deal of clout, though we have slid to the background in some circles. With the threat of the rifts no longer looming..."
"I see how it goes," Astlyr grouched, though she managed a wry smile, "everyone's eager to be our friend while we're saving the world, but the second we do-" she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder expressively to illustrate how quickly people had become disinterested.
"So it would seem at times," Josie nodded, heading for the door, obviously already milling over ideas for new contacts and better ways to gather information. The diplomat had found herself taking on a goodly share of Leliana's responsibilities after the spymaster departed. Though Leliana had left her second in command in charge of her duties, he answered to Josephine these days. Astlyr had to admire the woman for her constant grace in the face of whatever adversity the troubles of Skyhold might throw her way, including an inquisitor who insisted on making brash and highly unusual decisions.
Astlyr heaved a sigh, feeling as though they had made little headway. She was beginning to feel like one running in place. No matter what she did, new problems reared their heads. "I'm heading to the practice yard to work out some kinks, anyone care to join me?" Astlyr questioned the group.
Fen'Harel hardly looked up from his papers, "I believe I shall pass on your offer. I have a good deal of research I would like to accomplish and I need to jog my memories a bit more before we depart for the Western Approach. I would be loath to lead us astray."
"I wouldn't like that either," Astlyr agreed, looking at her two remaining advisers.
"I will join you," Cassandra dipped her head in a nod. "It has been a while since you and I sparred, and I believe young Guard Captain Jones was seeking some instruction, so I will send word that she should meet us in the yard."
"That sounds excellent," Astlyr said, folding her arms and turning to Cullen.
"I can't," he said, looking suddenly flustered, "I recall that I have a bit of business to attend to. Perhaps I will join you when it is finished."
"Alright," Astlyr said, giving his face a quick scrutiny. A look passed between the commander and Cassandra as he left the room with too much hurry in his steps. Astlyr raised her eyebrows at the seeker who merely shrugged and led the way into the hall.
"Don't study too hard," Astlyr said, by way of a goodbye to Fen.
He looked up at her a bit wearily, "I shan't," he reassured her.
Astlyr clasped her hands behind her back as she and Cassandra walked. "So, I didn't have the chance to ask you what you thought of my judgment." She braced herself inwardly. She valued the warrior woman's assessment more strongly than almost any other.
To her surprise Cas did not admonish her for foolishness or cruelty. "I will admit, I would not have thought of it. However, given your options and the necessity of punishment for those individuals, I feel you made a unique and effective choice."
"You don't think it was needlessly dramatic? I don't want a reputation for banishing people into the Fade on a whim."
"One instance is hardly precedence for concern. When you start ripping into the Fade every morning before breakfast, then I'll worry."
Astlyr chuckled as the two descended the long stairs from the hold's main doors. The banners which decorated the way fluttered in a cool breeze, but the day was still pleasant. "Any idea what Cullen thought?"
Cassandra made a snort of laughter, "I believe he was more concerned with the animated stone wolf outside the wall. I did manage to convince him that Alun means us no harm, but no doubt he has given the men special instructions to keep an eye on him."
Astyr wondered how their stone guest was fairing outside the walls of Skyhold. She resolved to pop out an visit him later.
The sun shone hospitably and the practice yard which, though small, was inviting. The straw dummies were freshly placed and all of the wooden practice swords and shields looked in good repair. One of the refugees had taken it upon himself to make the practice yard his pet project. Astlyr admired his handiwork, noting that he had spread fresh sand after the latest snow so that no one would slip. She would have to track him down and see that he was well paid and thanked for his efforts. Astlyr moved across the yard and selected her usual wooden sword and shield from the rack, Cassandra doing the same.
Soon both women sparred energetically. Astlyr had size and strength on the seeker, but Cassandra gave as good as she got, often surprising the inquisitor with her own force of arms. Cassandra could hold a sword block that would have shook the wrists of a lesser fighter, and would take a hit from Astlyr's shield with barely a flinch. Asltyr would be the first to admit that Cass's footwork was better. The qunari was used to her sheer power to make up for lack of maneuverability, but she recognized this weakness in herself and she asked her friend for advice.
"Remember," Cas said, taking up a fighting stance as Astlyr watched, squatting in the snow to better see what the other woman was doing with her feet, "do not over-commit to the shield charge. If you lock yourself into forward movement you lose the ability to compensate for your foe." She demonstrated by charging a dummy and at the last moment, pulling up short and darting to the left, slashing the straw man's side.
"Doing that slows your charge," Astlyr pointed out. "It gives them more time to notice you."
Cassandra chuckled. "I believe that if you are charging at them, they will notice anyway."
Astlyr had to laugh at this. "True," she admitted, taking up her own stance and mimicking Cassandra's motions as best she could. She still surged forward with too much aggression and when she made to slow and dodge to the side she instead almost tripped and wound up hitting the wall behind the row of dummies with her shoulder. She winced ruefully, rubbing her shoulder. "I think I have a bit of work to do on that," she admitted.
"I thought you were scary," said a friendly voice. Gaurdswoman Jones had entered the practice yard, a bright grin on her round face as she took in the two women.
"I wasn't going for scary," Astlyr explained a little sheepishly, rather wishing that the guard had not seen her clumsiness, "I was trying to have better footwork."
"Oh...I see," Jones said, though it was obvious that she was a bit confused. Her face cleared as she moved to take up her own practice weapons, hefting the wooden sword experimentally. "May I train with you?" she asked, doing an extremely poor job of concealing her eagerness.
"Of course," Cassandra said, smiling with a warmth that Astlyr wasn't used to. "I did tell you that we could practice whenever you like when we are at Skyhold." Cassandra turned to Astlyr, explaining, "Jones is concerned because her men do not always show her respect. To them she is leader in title alone."
"So I wanted to learn to fight better," Jones said, taking up a stance, a contemplative look on her face as she adjusted her foot placement and raised and lowered her sword arm to find the correct spot. "So at least I can thrash them in the ring if they question me."
Asltyr let out her abrupt bark of a laugh, "I like your style, Jones," she said.
All three women began to practice. It was an intense workout for Jones. The tempo at which the inquisitor and seeker fought was much higher than anything the guard had ever faced. Soon she was panting and bruised, but still looked determined, even as Cassandra bowled her off her feet with a well timed shield bash.
"What did I do wrong that time?" Jones asked, taking Cassandra's offered hand.
Astlyr, who was taking a turn at watching and advising rubbed her chin, pondering what she had just seen. "You were planted well enough, but your feet were too lateral. Form a triangle with your feet and your shield. I makes you harder to push over. If Cas hits you, you should be knocked to the side instead of on your ass."
Cassandra nodded. "Also, keep in mind that you are shorter than most opponents you will face."
It struck Astlyr then that Cassandra herself did not stand above average height for a human female. Sometimes Astlyr didn't notice peoples' heights at all, as she was taller than everyone she knew with the exception of Iron Bull, it little mattered. Now she listened, interested.
"Because you are lower to the ground, and because you are a woman with a low center of gravity, you can still have an advantage over a taller opponent like Astlyr. More so if that opponent is a man, as their center of gravity is in their chest," Cas got low, bending her knees and balancing expertly on the balls of her feet. "If you are charging a taller foe, get low as you can. They won't expect your power, trust me. If you hit them center of mass you can almost always knocked them back, or even down. Why don't you practice on the Inquisitor?"
Jones looked excited to try. This she did, several times, until Astlyr was beginning to get a bit sore. For a small person Jones managed to get a lot of force behind her shield. Out of the corner of her eye Astlyr saw that a small crowd had gathered to spectate. She noted with satisfaction that some of the off duty guards were watching and muttering to one another in jealousy that Jones was getting special training. She also saw the glint of golden hair and realized that Cullen had joined the observers. Unfortunately she came to this discovery it the exact moment Jones accomplished a particularly excellent shield charge and managed to slam Astlyr to earth.
"Well done," she coughed, embarrassed and proud in the same moment. It would be impossible to be angry with Jones for her timing. The woman stood above Astlyr beaming and fit to bust with pride. Astlyr could hear some of the guards chattering more loudly about how they would have to step up their own skills now. Astlyr achieved her feet and dusted sand and slush from her backside.
"Ah, Commander Cullen," Cassandra said, perhaps a little too loudly. "Jones, have you noticed how the commander holds his shield? High and tilted downward slightly?" She demonstrated with her own shield as Cullen moved to the front of the watchers, arms folded and a good-natured expression on his face.
"Yes," Jones mimicked the stance, curious.
"Well, it's wrong." Cassandra said, the hint of an impish grin on her scarred face.
"Is it?" Jones asked.
"Oh thanks," Cullen said, rolling his eyes expressively. "I was taught to hold it that way as a templar, to deflect magic away from my face."
"Oh," Jones said, taking up the stance and then shifting back and forth between it and her regular shield posture. "Interesting."
"It won't help you much in an ordinary battle," Cassandra said, stepping in and using Jone's raised shield to her advantage, sweeping in below and pressing the tip of the practice sword to Jones' belly. "It covers your face so you cannot see attacks coming in below your guard."
"I suppose that is true," Cullen conceded, still smiling gamely. Astlyr met his eyes and he suddenly looked unsteady. "Er, Inquisitor...Astlyr...would you...? could I...?" he straightened, making himself the formal soldier once again. "I have something I wish to discuss with you. Will you accompany me to the forge?"
"Certainly," Astlyr hung her sword and practice shield back in place. "You'll be alright without me?" she asked Jones and Cassandra.
"Of course," the seeker said with a brusque nod. Was it Astlyr's imagination or did another significant look pass between Cassandra and Cullen, as it had earlier in Fen'Harel's rooms? She pondered this as she followed her friend towards the forge.
As they walked she spotted Myfanwy. The elf was out in the main yard with Gossamer the horse. She was lunging the animal in a circle under the careful instruction of one of the stable hands. Perhaps the elf had taken Astlyr and Cullen's words to heart and intended to form a closer bond with her mount so that she could one day ride without the aid of saddles and bridles.
"What's up?" Astlyr asked of her friend, hurrying to walk beside Cullen again, letting the distraction of Myfanwy fall away. He was very pointedly avoiding her eyes, looking directly ahead with determination. "Has something gone wrong with the forge?" her mind instantly flashed to images of the fires catching and burning half the place down before it was stopped. Or perhaps they had run out of coal and now the smith had nothing with which to keep his fires going at all. Why had no one told her they were running low? Cullen was probably being stoic so as not to needlessly alarm Skyhold's residents before they had to.
To Astlyr's surprise the forge was intact. The fire guttered low, but there was a full scuttle of coals beside it, waiting to be heaped on. The forge was also empty. No sign of the smith or either of his two apprentices. "What-?" she began confusedly as Cullen close the door behind him. All the shutters were closed too. It was a blessing that the fire was low or the temperature in the place would have been stifling.
"I wanted to give you something," Cullen said, still looking a little unsteady. He marched across the room as if ready for parade drills and opened a large wooden chest where the scrap metal was usually kept. Instead of pulling out old, bent horseshoes or a broken sword, he carefully lifted an elegant shield from the box. "I...I had this made for you." He held it out towards her.
Astlyr took the offered shield reverently. The weight felt right and the metal was so new it glinted silver. It as well shaped and when she tried it on her arm it was perfectly sized. She tightened the new leather straps and they squeaked pleasantly. "Oh Cullen," she exhaled. "It's wonderful!"
"Is it? Thank the Maker," Cullen said, huffing as though he had been holding his breath. "I er...I asked Dorian if you would like it."
"What did he say?" Astlyr questioned, sliding the shield free of her arm to study it in more detail.
"Well, first he made a very crude joke about giving you a sword, which does not bare repeating."
Astlyr's too-loud laugh was especially startling in the closed up forge, but this time Cullen did not jump. "That sounds about right," she said, admiring the shield's well crafted edge. It could easily separate a foe's head from his body with the right force, which Astlyr was expert at applying.
"Then he told me he thought it was perfect."
"It is perfect," she said emphatically, turning the shield in the dim firelight and admiring the curve. Flawless. It must have taken the smith weeks of meticulous work. Then she spotted something else. Near the apex of the shield. A circle of copper stood out. "Is that a coin?" she squinted.
"It is," said Cullen, looking a little shaky again. She wondered if he was ill. "I... had them place that there. It, er, it's mine. It was mine, I mean. Now it's yours. Maker I'm bad at this," he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes drifting to the ceiling as if for divine guidance. "The day I left for templar training my brother gave me that coin," he gestured towards her shield. "It just happened to be in his pocket, but he said it was for luck. Templars are not supposed to carry such things," he clarified hastily, "our faith should see us through."
"You broke the order's rules?" Astlyr raised an eyebrow. "I'm shocked." Her words were mostly sarcastic, but she was impressed that he had managed to keep hold of the object for so long, in the face of inspections and moving from place to place as much as he had.
"Until recently I was very good at following the rules," Cullen said, risking a smile. His whole being was tense, like an animal considering fight or flight. "Most of the time," he conceded, his scarred lip twitching. "That coin was the only thing I took from Fereldan that the templars didn't give me. So...I wanted you to have it."
Astlyr examined the coin. She imagined the woman's face imprinted on it to be that of Andraste, or perhaps a queen, she wasn't certain. It was rather faded, as though often rubbed between someone's fingers. "But don't you need it?" Astlyr asked, noticing how well it had been set into the shield. It wasn't coming free any time soon.
"Humor me," Cullen said, stepping a bit closer, with the expression of one making up his mind. "I've seen what you face out there. It can't hurt."
"I'll keep it safe," Astlyr said, casting another pleased gaze over her new shield. "I promise not to leave this behind even if a monster does try to crush it."
"I know it's foolish..."
"Not foolish," Astlyr shook her head, adamantly. She had a thought and carefully tested the waters, "a gift from a friend is never foolish."
"A friend...yes. That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about," Cullen said, his shoulders slumping slightly. He looked up into her face and in that moment he looked so open, so exposed that Astlyr's heart gave a little flutter. Something it had not done in a very long time. She set the shield carefully aside. Now she too felt a bit tense as she faced the man. "I've...I've spent a good deal of time thinking about what I might say...now. With you here. I had a whole thing rehearsed and now I can't remember a damn line."
"Whole thing rehearsed?" Astlyr asked, leaning her butt against the smith's workbench and watching the commander moving uncertainly, as though he wanted to begin pacing (another nervous habit) but was restraining himself.
"Yes. I'm an idiot right?" he tilted his head towards her, smiling ruefully. "I just...I wanted to ask for a long long time now. I guess I wasn't brave enough. Maybe I'm not brave enough now..."
"Cullen," Astlyr said, her voice firm. She stood straight, facing him with her steadiest gaze. To her surprise he did not look intimidated by her direct tone, or her size. Instead he seemed to gather himself and moved towards her until they stood only a hand's length apart.
"May I kiss you?"
Astlyr felt her stomach drop out as though she had just plummeted off of the wall again. An odd giddiness overcame her, like a teenager with a crush. Where the hell did that come from? Where was the stalwart warrior now? Instead she was scant seconds away from blushing as red as Cullen was, in spite of her dark skin. "Yes."
Cullen closed the space between them in a blink. His hand reached up and cupped her jaw and then they were kissing. The first was tentative and he drew away, checking her expression, still uncertain. He must have seen the drunken look of pleasure on her face because he moved in again.
She had to give it to Cullen. He knew his way around a kiss. She wasn't certain she had had better. His lips were warm and soft, fitting against hers more perfectly than they had any right to. She felt his scar against her mouth and she was overcome with the urge to bite it.
Cullen seemed uncertain when it came to what to do with his hands. Finally she took them and rested them on her hips, her own hands straying to caress the small of his back, then his shoulder blades, feeling tight muscle. Neither of them were wearing their armor, for which Astlyr was profoundly grateful. Nothing would ruin the moment like breastplates clanging together. One of his hands stayed obediently at her hip while the other drifted to the back of her neck. He pressed her back against the work bench and the kissing became more urgent and fevered. Neither of them noticed the difference in their statures at all.
After this had gone on for some moments, and Astlyr felt completely out of breath and wasn't certain where her senses had wandered off to, and whether they were ever coming back, Cullen pulled away slightly, though his arms remained around her. If he minded having to look up into her face he gave no indication. "I was...well, I would normally pick the girl up and carry her to my... my quarters at this point. At least that's how the fantasy goes," he said, smiling shyly.
"Hmm," Astlyr looked down at herself. There would be no carrying, unless she was to throw him over her shoulder, which she was strongly considering, but restrained herself. "Well, perhaps we are better off with reality anyway."
"You're probably right," Cullen laughed, and it was far more comfortable than before. "Now that I think about all those stairs," he winced.
"Exactly," she said. "I am thinking we may just walk."
"Walking it is," he said with a nod, turning towards the door and reluctantly pulling his hands from her.
The two made their way across the snowy yard between the forge and the steps to the wall. Astlyr absently wondered if the smith would get the notion that they were gone and go back to his work, or whether Cullen had given the man the day off.
The two walked so close together that their fingers brushed, though neither seemed certain whether hand holding was in order just yet. Too many eyes. They still got a few odd looks from the wall guards, but Cullen managed to glare them down quite effectively.
Finally they were tucked away in his office. He shut the door and locked it, then faced her with a mildly predatory expression on his features. She bit down on her lip. Damn. He moved towards her and pressed her back against his desk and they were kissing again, just as passionately as before. When they finally came up for air some time later Cullen smirked, quirking his scarred lips. "You have no idea how long I have been waiting to do that."
"Why didn't you?" she asked, feeling breathless. He was still pressed against her. He had her up against the wall beside his bookshelf. The cool stone was a pleasant contrast to the warm man holding her.
"Well," he looked sheepish. "Because you were the inquisitor. And because you were the sodding Herald of Andraste. You're not supposed to kiss the gods' chosen. In other words, I was an idiot."
"What about the fact that I am qunari?" she raised an eyebrow.
"I was even more of a fool for that," he admitted, looking down. "I was...I was intimidated by you. Maker's breath, I still am, but I've decided not to let that stall me any longer. One of the things I like best about you is your strength. I can't love it, and hold it against you at the same time. I'm just...I'm just glad I'm not too late. When Iron Bull and you-"
"Let's not talk about him, shall we?" Astlyr chuckled, turning them so Cullen was against the wall. This time she controlled the kiss. He was getting better with his hands, being more daring and exploring body parts which would certainly make a chantry sister quite cross. Finally she twined her fingers in his and pulled away, gesturing with her head towards the loft where his bed was tucked away. He nodded, smiling.
Loft and bed achieved the two set about the business of exploring one another. She took a long moment to appreciate his chest as she pulled his shirt free in a fluid motion. He was muscular in the way of humans. Qunari, especially the males, were often overly endowed with muscles. She found she preferred Cullen's type. She admired his scars as he set about removing her garb until they were both down to their small-clothes.
"Maker," Cullen breathed as he ran his hand from her hip to her knee. "Your legs go on forever."
"Is that good?" she asked, still letting her own fingers explore the scars on his torso.
"Very," he said, smiling up at her. Then his expression changed, growing closed and taught, and he pulled away.
"What is it?" she asked, concerned. "Did I do something-"
"No!" he answered, too loud and too quickly. "I...damn it. It's me again. I...I've never..."
"Cullen?" Astlyr sat up slightly. "Are you a virgin?"
He turned redder than she thought she had ever seen him and he pulled away even more, sitting at the edge of the bed, looking at his hands. "I've done...I've done some things, but the actual act..." he ran a hand through his hair, which had an even more pronounced reddish tint in the dim light. She sat still, uncertain.
"Cullen, that's fine," she said, and she meant it. "I understand."
"It's just that duty, and the chantry and all of it...so many things got in the way. So many things more important. And now here you are and you have experience and I'm just-"
"Cullen," she scooted to him and pressed her fingertips to his lips. "Sweet one. We can go whatever speed you like. I'm not in a rush. I'm here for you. Not for sex."
He blinked up at her, a mingling of confusion and gratitude on his face. "I just...I just thought...I don't want to disappoint you."
"There is no way you could ever disappoint me," she said, and kissed him, sweetly, chastely.
"But you've had so many lovers-"
"And none of them were you. None of them could hold a candle to the man that you are. This might not be my first time ever, but it my first time with Cullen Rutherford."
This seemed to be enough. He looked to her with an almost pleading expression in his eyes. Something like agony. "I don't know what I did right to be here, finally, with you. I've been waiting for you for so long," he breathed, and when he kissed her it was anything but chaste. He moved to her and lay her back against the bed as they began their exploration anew.
***** Guys who ask permission to kiss you are hot. Shout out if you agree!
Any of my readers that came for the Cullen/Adaar still here? This was quite a long wait, wasn't it? In my defense, I didn't know it was going to happen until I had started writing. Thanks, Astlyr, always surprising me. I hope no one was eagerly hoping for smut. I'll tell you right now, this will never be a smut fic. I just don't write it. Sex scenes will always fade to black (as it were). I'll get that out there right now. However, I hope that you still found great enjoyment in the sweet Cullen lovin's. More to come, don't worry ;)
Also, the way to Astyr's heart is through weapons. Yes, I did borrow some lines from a few of Cullen's romance scenes. ;)
Also, the elven god issue continues to lurk in the background. How long can it carry on before it bubbles to the surface?
And how cute is Jones learning to be a badass from the two most badass women in the world?!
Who did you romance when you played DA:I? What was your favorite part?
Next: 5/14/15