Cassandra walked around the back of the Chantry after breakfast the next day, hoping to steal a few minutes with Swords and Shields in her tent. None of her friends, or her former friends, had been at the meal, and she'd excused herself from her usual morning training for the comfort of its pages. She'd wondered if knowing it was Aveline would diminish her appreciation of the story, but it almost improved it. Varric had done a masterful job of capturing the thorny captain and her hapless romanticism. Cassandra had never met Donnic, but if he'd been drawn with the same unerring eye, it was no wonder the dwarf had been unable to resist the story.

She'd almost rounded the corner when she Hawke's low voice cut through her. "Please, Cullen."

Cassandra stopped short, her eyes wide and mouth flying open in a gasp. She recognized that pleading tone intimately, from when it had fallen from her own lips, and Cullen's answering, frustrated, "Hawke," almost broke her. She leaned against the cool stone of the holy building and breathed out slowly. What were the odds that they would use her hidden place for their love?

She closed her eyes and prepared herself to walk away when she suddenly frowned and tightened her jaw. It was her place. They both had rooms. Cullen's was practically close enough to touch. Why should she run? If they were going to be inconsiderate enough to show affection in public, she wouldn't be the one who retreated. Besides, she really wanted her book.

Her face covered in careful indifference, she finished her path and stopped short a second time. Instead of the scene she'd expected, Cullen pressing a writhing Hawke against the wall, Cullen was standing well away from her, with his back to Cassandra. Even more shocking, Varric was between them, along with a fourth, hooded figure she didn't recognize. When they saw her the dwarf hissed in a breath, and Hawke's mouth settled into a grim line, but Cassandra was too stunned to say anything.

Cullen kept talking, oblivious to the new tension around him. "I'm not going to ask her to accept this. You can't possibly expect she would," he said. He ran an annoyed hand through his hair, and there was an anger in his voice that Cassandra had never heard before. Not even when he'd confronted her in that crowded storage shed about her own lies. "And the Divine even less so! You realize this jeopardizes everything they're trying to build?"

Hawke narrowed her eyes. "What they're building is worthless if they don't accept it," she said, her gaze moving back to Cullen. "You promised me."

"I promised you?" he snarled. "What about your promises, Hawke?"

The fourth figured cleared his throat. "Commander," said a male voice, lilting and musical despite its roughness.

"No," said Cullen, pointing his finger at him. "You don't get to say anything. You're lucky I didn't arrest you last night. You're lucky you aren't in the dungeons of this building."

"It would hardly be my first time in your chains, would it?" said the man sarcastically.

Cullen growled and spun around to pace, then froze when he saw Cassandra standing behind him. She took an involuntary step forward at the anguish on his face, and Hawke mirrored her. "Convince her, Cullen," said the rogue. "This is my price."

But Cullen said nothing, only stared at Cassandra. His eyes were full of some strong emotion that she didn't understand, but they were still more beautiful than Thedas to her. She waited for him to say what he needed to say. She would be his quiet space, this time.

When nothing came, the unfamiliar man pushed back his hood and smiled in a way that didn't reach his eyes. He was tall and wiry, no fighter at all, but he carried himself as though he was. "The Commander seems to have lost his voice. Perhaps I can help. My name is Anders, and I want to be a part of these peace talks."

"You."

Cassandra's mind was no longer confused but sharp and clear. She was moving before she knew she meant to, scrabbling blindly for her sword. Before she could draw it, a hand was on her wrist, and she snarled at whoever was trying to keep her from this justice. A strong body blocked her path, and Cullen's voice was fast and strained in her ear. "Cassandra, don't."

"He's a terrorist," she said. The Seeker power inside of her lashed out unbidden, and Anders grunted but didn't drop. She stopped sending, confused at the way he seemed to absorb it. "He killed hundreds of people. Women and men I knew. Holy servants, who belonged to the Maker. He's supposed to be dead!"

Varric was next to her as well, holding her back, and she felt their betrayal run down her spine. "You side with him?"

"No," said Cullen. "No, never."

"Then let me kill him," said Cassandra. "Let me!"

"Just try it," said Hawke with her usual smile. She played with a dagger with a casual air that belied the sharp focus of her eyes. "I'm very fast with this. And I really would hate to kill you. I like you, Cassandra. I think you're a good person. I never thought I would say that about a Seeker. Or a Templar," she added, nodding at Cullen. "But it's true. Just listen to him."

Cullen was still holding her arms, his back to Hawke, but he spoke loudly over Cassandra's head. "I won't let you hurt her, Hawke."

"I just said I didn't want to. I'm trying not to. You might be able to stop me, but not without some risk to yourself, and I think she wouldn't like to see you hurt, either, Cullen. Neither would I. But I won't let Anders die."

Cassandra looked past Cullen to see the final mask fall from Hawke's face, and she saw Marian at last. The rogue was in love, with the desperate devotion that should only be for the Maker. But she'd given it to this mage, this murderer, and Cassandra could see the determination that wouldn't be pushed aside. Hawke would die for him. She would kill for him. The Champion had used every drop of her charisma to do this, and to keep the secret of it from the world, and she'd burned every friendship she had in the process. This was what Cassandra had been missing when she tried to understand Hawke. The need for adoration was strong, and drove her forward, but it was the adoration of only one man.

Varric's face was stone below her, and she remembered how painfully he'd spoken of the things that had torn them apart. She wondered if he'd ever been close to telling her the truth. Likely not. Even upright Aveline, the defender of the city, had allowed this to happen. Not only that, but they'd all agreed to never speak of it again.

And Hawke would use Cullen's love against him even now.

That more than anything brought Cassandra back from the edge of violence. "This is why you sided with the Templars," she said. "It was the way to get Cullen to accept this." She heard Cullen inhale sharply above her, and his fingers tightened on her arms in obvious pain.

"This was my price then," said Hawke. "It's still my price now. If you want me to help you, you let him be a part of this. No one will fight harder for the mages than Anders, and any deal that doesn't include his views won't be complete."

Varric snorted. "Yeah, I always thought it was a pity that more peace talks didn't include the perspective of wholesale murderers."

"It was necessary," said Hawke, and Anders stepped closer to her in support. She glanced at him, once, and Cassandra finally placed the faint chord of recognition that was ringing within her. Hawke looked like her mother, stepping on the scaffold. Only Hawke wouldn't let herself fall. She would kill the executioner without a qualm.

"Talk to the Commander," said Anders. He looked at her seriously. "I regret what had to be done. I'd like to make a world where such steps are never necessary again. I believe we have the same goal. Consider it."

He raised his hood and backed away, Hawke stepping in front of him and shielding him on the way out. Cullen released his hold on her and put distance between them, and Varric coughed. "I'll leave you two to talk."

The dwarf skirted past them and her tent, deliberately away from Hawke's exit, and Cassandra wondered if that was a message. But mostly she stared at Cullen, trying to come up with anything to ask him.

"Tell me," she said when he didn't speak.

"I'm trying." He rubbed a hand over his face, which was lined and exhausted once more. "Hawke came to me in the middle of the chaos in Kirkwall and offered a trade. Her support against the mages for Anders' life and the safety of his believed death. She'd already talked the rest of them into hiding it, even Fenris. Even Sebastian, which I still can't believe. But she understands her pull, better than I realized at the time. We all loved her, by her design. And she spent us all for him.

"The Chantry was already destroyed. Nothing could be done to bring it back, and I was terrified of what would happen if the mages overtook Kirkwall. The people who lived there, they wouldn't have been prepared. They would have been sacrifices for the blood magic that was already ruling our charges, and Meredith's paranoia seemed more than justified. Hawke was one of the most powerful people in the city, and a good fighter. Her group was even better. I thought I needed them."

She shifted a little, and he dropped his eyes. "You're right," he said, though she hadn't spoken. "Those are all reasons, and good ones, but they weren't why. I did it because she asked me to. I was so weak." His voice cracked, but he made no effort to clear his throat. "She promised me that Anders would be sent away, that she'd never have anything to do with him again. All she wanted was his life, she said. She offered to stay in Kirkwall and help rebuild, I suppose to add that extra hope for me that we would be together afterward. That never happened, though."

"Hawke told me she is the one behind the Tevinter rescues," said Cassandra. "She must have remained to set up the organization from within Kirkwall."

Cullen's gaze snapped back up. "No, it was Fenris," he said, before understanding dawned. His heartbreak was all over his face. "Of course. Another trade. One that would bring mages to their cause while giving something to him. I wondered why Fenris would want to help mages. She must have been in contact with Anders the whole time."

"And now his followers are free and entrenched in Thedas." She closed her eyes. "You say you've tracked them, but how easily could they vanish if Anders tells them to?"

He groaned and sagged against the wall. "Oh Maker, what have I done? I thought I was helping," he whispered, and the despair in his voice was a knife through her.

Cassandra moved closer, close enough to rub his shoulder with her hand. "You were. You loved her. You had no reason not to trust," she said. She wasn't sure she fully believed herself, but she had to say something.

She wondered what Leliana would do. She'd never missed the bard's easy friendship more, but this was a secret too dangerous for a broken bond.

It was a measure of Cullen's distress that he didn't try to push her away. "You wouldn't have trusted. You would have known better," he said. He looked at her, finally, and there were tears on his face. "You should have disciplined me. Dismissed me. I should have left so long ago."

"You don't know that I would have made a different decision," she said, ignoring the last. "I'm not as strong as you think."

He clearly didn't believe her, but he should. The proof was right now, in the naked, ugly truth of her next question and his next reply. In a way, she was worse than he'd ever been. He thought he'd been weak for Hawke, but at least he'd believed Hawke cared for him. She knew Cullen was well past any love he'd had for her, and she would still do whatever he wanted if it would ease his pain. It was obvious to her now, with her hand still moving soothing circles over his shirt. She loved him too much to do anything else.

Perhaps this was how one found the truth, by losing everything. In the empty space of her life, the only thing left was Cullen. He'd been the one she was waiting for, she finally knew with undeniable certainty. There was less joy in finding him than she'd hoped when she was a child.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Tell me to leave," he said. "I'm only a liability for you now. I can't be trusted."

Perhaps she wouldn't do everything he wanted. That was a small comfort.

"No," she said. "I trust you. I meant about Anders and Hawke. Do you want me to press Justinia to include him?"

Unwittingly, she'd found the cure to his sadness - surprise. He pushed himself away from the wall, and her hand. "It doesn't matter what I want," he said.

She looked away, the better to hide the fact that it was the only thing that mattered.

Cullen looked at the tent that was still sitting next to them and asked suddenly, "Why did you give me your room? Why are you sleeping out here?"

"It's your room. I've always slept out here," she lied. "I like to be under the stars."

"Cassandra," he said, and while there was knowledge in his voice, there was no accusation. "I know that it was yours. I've known from the beginning."

She flushed. So much for subterfuge. "You deserved a place near the Divine. She will depend on you, in the future."

"She depends on you now. I could have found another place."

Cassandra shook her head. "You're the Commander."

"And that was supposed to be you."

There was no reply to that, so she fell silent.

Cullen sighed. "Anders doesn't deserve inclusion in this. Varric was right. And Hawke will never understand that some lines can't be crossed if I continue to allow her to cross them," he said. "When I went to her, weeks ago, she promised me that she'd had no contact with him. She promised me that she wanted to help. I wouldn't have brought her, otherwise, even though you wanted to see her so badly. When Anders was the one at the meeting point she dragged me to last night, she wasn't even sorry that she lied."

She relaxed slightly. At least Hawke's influence over him wasn't as strong as she'd feared.

"But I think you should let him live," he added. "Let him go."

Adrenaline spiked through her, but she tried to stay calm. "Why?"

His fingers fiddle with the hem of his shirt, and he looked at the ground. "Do you want the practical reasons, or my own?"

"Both."

A faint smile floated across his face before he grew serious again. "Practically, because he never would have come here if he had no contingency plan for capture or death. He had to know he was taking a risk, no matter how confident Hawke was in… well, in me," said Cullen. "Whatever he put in place might be dangerous to Haven. To all of the people here, including the Divine. Letting him go unmolested may stay his hand, especially if the peace process is successful. Moreover, while he may suspect we know of the mage network he's built, it will buy us time to counter it if we need to. I'm still a Templar, even if I've lost my way, and the Templars here are well-trained."

Cassandra nodded reluctantly. "I see that wisdom. You are a better tactician than I," she said. "And what are your reasons? To please Hawke?"

She was proud of the evenness in her voice, and Cullen didn't seem to notice the sudden ache. "No," he said. He looked at her with a strange guilt. "Anders was at Kinloch. He escaped after I arrived, and I never knew him well, but my comrades talked about him quite a bit. He was… rebellious. And Kinloch wasn't like the Gallows, but rebellion still wasn't tolerated. They gave him over to the more enthusiastic Templars."

She didn't need to ask.

"I was never there, for him, but I was for some of the others. Training, they called it. It made me sick, but I thought it was my duty," he said. "I could never stomach the torture that some of them seemed to enjoy, but I never stopped them. Never. And the Gallows was even worse, because the directive began at the top, with Meredith." He looked at his hands. "What Anders did wasn't my fault. It wasn't even the Templars' fault - he made a choice. But I can't pretend we're blameless. I can't pretend that some of the horrors that people claim the mages are capable of weren't born with me.

"Anders had to become a Grey Warden to escape what he endured with us. I've talked to Aedan about what that means, and it's not as glorious as the stories pretend. I didn't make Anders. But I didn't save him. Or anyone else in his position. I've tried to make amends as best I could, and maybe if I let him go, this time, he'll have a chance. At least, if I don't do it for Hawke, but for me."

Cassandra watched as more tears rolled down his face, and she danced from foot to foot as she wavered. Eventually she moved to his side and wrapped her arms around his shaking shoulders. He turned into her easily, naturally, and she held him as he wept. "It's dangerous," she whispered. "He's dangerous."

"I know. But tell me I haven't harmed this world just as much."

"You haven't, Cullen. You haven't," she said. She sighed, the weight of his despair unbearable. "I'll do it. He can leave." For you.

"Thank you," he said in a choked voice. "Thank you, Cassandra."

She hoped she wouldn't regret it. "But there is something more."

He leaned back and gave her a careful look as he wiped his face. "What's your price?"

"No price. I will do it regardless," she said. "But I do not think Hawke is suitable to be the Inquisitor."

Cassandra braced for his objection, but instead his face clouded over. "No. I don't think she is. She can go with Anders. Perhaps they'll be better together."

I'm sorry, she thought, but she was relieved he didn't argue with her. She let him go and stepped away. "I'll talk to them tonight. They will give me until then, I'm certain, and I'd prefer they leave under the cover of darkness."

"I'll be there," said Cullen immediately. "In case they resist."

"Will you be okay?"

"More than I would be if I wasn't there and something happened to you."

She savored the small warmth in her belly at his words, but it was a dangerous thing to do with him still standing over her, within arms' reach. She looked back to her tent to make sure that she didn't ruin their tentative peace with her feelings.

"Meet in the tavern after dinner?" he asked. She nodded, and he gave her a small smile. It turned into a frown when he, too, looked at her tent. "I don't like that you're out here alone."

"It's pleasant," she said. "And I would like to do some reading."

"Of course," he said quickly, turning to leave.

"Cullen?" He looked back at her faint call, and she asked, "How did you know it was my room? From the beginning, I mean? I thought I'd hidden it well." She really had, and her annoyance wasn't feigned.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "It smells like you," he said simply, then turned around and left.

She'd forgotten about James.

She'd successfully avoided the Divine and Leliana all day, afraid that the knowledge of the traitor in their midst would live in her face. Afraid even more that her own treason would be there for them to read. It was important they not know until it was over. At that point they would be furious, might even dismiss her, but that was a worthy price. She would have done what she could to delay a mage attack. And help Cullen. He was the Commander now, and Leliana was a strong Left Hand. They didn't need her, not truly. Not anymore.

With Cullen's warnings ringing in her ear, though, she did supervise a top-to-bottom search of the Chantry for anything out of place. She told the guards it was an exercise to prepare for the Conclave, and outside of a truly staggering number of elfroot cuttings and iron chunks in scattered barrels, they found nothing.

When she arrived in the tavern, Cullen was sitting at a table with Hawke, alone, and he had the look of a guard instead of a friend, but Cassandra realized she might well be the only one who would notice it. She started to weave her way through the crowd to attract their attention, which was focused on the minstrel in the corner, when James suddenly appeared in front of her. He moved with the deliberateness of a man who'd had several glasses of ale, but his arms slipped around her waist easily.

"Hey, Princess," he said. His smile was as charming as ever, but she was in no mood for it. "Where did you disappear to last night?"

"I was tired," she said, delicately trying to extract herself. He seemed to have more hands than usual, and they were chaste but irritating as they latched on as quickly as she could push them away.

He laughed and leaned in closer. "I would have taken you to bed," he said in a low voice.

Cassandra resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The forward flirting that had seemed thrilling at fifteen seemed graceless on this grown man, though a small voice whispered that she wouldn't have minded such a line from Cullen. "I'm capable of walking myself to my room," she said, craning her neck. "I actually am here to meet people…"

"Nonsense," said James. "Who could be more important than me? Come on, let me get you a drink. We can take it outside."

"I appreciate the offer," she said, in a voice that she knew sounded polite but was mostly a warning. "Nevertheless -"

James reached up swiftly and drew her into a kiss, and she froze before trying to push him away.

"Cassandra. Are you ready to go?"

Cullen's voice behind her was both welcome and horrifying, and she twisted with new energy to get out of the circle of James' arms. The small hope she'd been nurturing ever since she'd known Hawke would be leaving wavered and sputtered in fear. "Cullen, I was looking for you," she began, before she saw the anger on his face. An anger that wasn't directed at her. She finally managed to get free, and Cullen took a long step to stand slightly in front of her.

She noticed that he stood in such a way that her sword arm was still unimpeded, and she almost smiled despite everything.

"Go away, Knight-Commander," said James. "All respect, ser, but this is only a party for two."

"I wish to leave," said Cassandra in hard tones. "We will speak later. Preferably when you are sober."

The shorter man's face grew thunderous, and he glared at both of them in turn. "So this is what 'colleagues' are these days? Funny to see such a close working relationship. Or is it too much to expect someone so exalted to stay faithful? Maybe your head can't help but be turned by any man with a title, even if it isn't royal."

Cassandra's jaw dropped. She didn't even have time to be embarrassed at his implication she was still intimate with Cullen, as most of her mind was busy reorienting to this new attack.

Cullen seemed to be less unprepared. "I'd say you have little call to talk of faithfulness, after what you chose to do to her," he said. "You weren't so young that you couldn't understand your actions."

She'd thought she'd already hit the highest level of confusion that existed, but she found another plane above her. How did Cullen know anything about that?

James apparently wasn't interested in finding out. "Do you know what her uncle said to me when he dismissed my father? He said that I was an animal, barely worth the air I breathed, and certainly not worthy of even looking at his niece." His charming smile was gone, replaced with pure rage. "My family had to start over with nothing, thanks to her asshole, elitist relatives."

"So you chose to abandon me?" she asked, a spasm of speech she couldn't stop. "My uncle was a fool. I never said anything like that. I never even thought it."

"How was I supposed to know I'd see you again? That you'd come after me? I'd tried to seduce you for months before you talked to me, much less did anything else. Princess Pentaghast liked fooling around with the servants well enough, once she started, but only in the darkest corners," said James.

Cassandra flushed in anger. The tavern had fallen silent, and she realized how many people were listening to their argument. Hawke hopped up to sit on a nearby table and swung her legs as she watched, and something about her presence made everyone else turn away.

"You should have known," said Cullen. "If you loved her, you would have known she would. Cassandra would do no less."

We were children, she thought quietly. They'd been much too young for love, no matter how she thought she'd felt.

"If I'd known I'd drawn you in so well, I never would have risked it," he said, looking at her earnestly.

Hawke snorted. "Very romantic."

"You weren't there," snapped James. "Neither were you," he added to Cullen. He reached out and touched Cassandra's hand. "Princess, I'm sorry. I loved you, I know now, but I was just afraid. I've been trying to show you that I still do, but maybe I haven't been clear enough. Please give me another chance."

The lies were so transparent, it was almost an insult to her Seeker training to identify them. "If you loved me, you'd call me by my name," she said, releasing her past with an ease that startled her. "I apologize for the words of my uncle, which were uncalled for and false, but I am simply not interested."

Muffled laughs came from the surrounding tables, and James flushed an angry red. "Fine. Word is you're not exactly a pure proposition now, anyway. The Commander can have you."

Cullen reached out to grab the other man's shirt and yanked him close with a terrifying violence. "I don't strike my men, which is fortunate for you, because no man has ever deserved it more," he said. He looked around, his eyes lighting on a nearby table. "You're his friends, right? Take him to the barracks. Dry him out."

"Bastard," muttered James as Cullen shoved him away, and Cassandra's hand itched over her sword.

Cullen saw it and gave her a dark smile. "He's not worth the mess. Come on."

Hawke jumped off the table and asked, "What about a dagger that nicks his earlobe? Just a little? I wouldn't mind. He was definitely not worth the effort I spent sleeping with him. And trust me, it was a lot of effort on my part. Whoever says the woman just has to lay there is very misinformed."

Cassandra's hand flew to her mouth in a shocked laugh, and Hawke's eyes sparkled. Cassandra felt a small pang in knowing that she would be sending this woman away, which was an odd thing to think about a woman who'd sincerely threatened to kill her earlier that day. Who'd let a mass murderer live out of love. She shook her head. Hawke was as indescribable as Varric had claimed.

They turned to leave, still smiling, when a bottle flew through the air behind them and shattered against Cullen's head.