Chapter Twenty-Three

What Pride Had Wrought

The march to the Arbor Wilds was heavy with anticipation, the nerves of the troops palpable in the air; they sensed the significance of the impending confrontation, with many knowing the hunt for Corypheus could be coming to an end.

The main Inquisition force arrived at a pre-set camp, constructed by the allies and Leliana's forward scouts, who were now engaged with Corypheus' forces, alongside the Inquisition's Orlesian allies.

When Cullen and Valina arrived at the main camp, a scout met them bearing news: the effort to clear a path had so far been hindered. The Wilds teemed with Red Templars, and to make matters worse, strange elves appeared from all quarters, attacking anything that crossed their path – Inquisition or Red Templar – further hindering progress towards the temple.

Cullen sent the scout on his way. He turned to Valina, taking her hand, his brow knotted with thoughts.

'Malakar is only hours behind us. We need to get that path cleared,' he said, and already she could sense him pulling away, 'Valina…'

She clutched at his surcoat, holding him in place. 'If you're about to tell me to stay here, don't. You need more than rookie soldiers to get through to the temple, and you know it.'

He sighed. 'I know, but I… I want you safe.'

'And I want you safe, Amatus, so whether you like it or not, I am coming with you, and I will fight by your side.'

Cullen stared down at her, feeling the pull of her serpentstone gaze.

Please, Valina, he wanted to say, please stay here where I know you'll be safe. This one time, put down your daggers, but the words tasted bitter on his tongue as a memory surged forth…

Cullen pursed his lips. The words burned on his tongue, even as he struggled to find them. He had to tell her about what had been revealed downstairs in his confrontation with Benet, he knew, or she would read the lies from his tongue in the small movements on his face, would pick apart any mask he tried to hide behind.

He leant closer to Valina, supporting himself on the arm of her chair. 'D'or was the one who hired Mireille. He wanted to kill his ex-lover so that he would have no questionable attachments in the hope that he would convince your parents to accept him as your suitor.'

As he'd feared, Valina's face went blank at his words. She stood sharply, turning away from him. A disturbing stillness settled over the room, her body statuesque as she processed the revelation. For moments that seemed like hours, she stood there, her eyes focused on the window across from her, as if time had ceased to move forward in the wake of her emotions, emotions that she normally leashed so tightly, but he could sense the quiet, writhing anger that surged inside her, threatening to break forth.

Valina turned suddenly and Cullen shivered at the emptiness in her gaze, at the mask she wore over lips that spoke such sweet words to him, over eyes that shone with mischief for him in private – and not so private – moments.

'Coffin it is.'

Cullen shot forward, grasping Valina's shoulders. She fought his grip, hands vicelike on his wrists as she said, 'Let me go, Cullen.'

Cullen tightened his hold as much as he could without hurting her, even as he fought grief to hear her voice so hollow.

'Valina, as satisfying as it might be to kill him, it would only be fleeting. Wouldn't you much rather see him shut in a cell and stripped of his title? Disgraced?'

Valina's grip softened but did not release. So many emotions played across her face, and he knew she was allowing him to see how much it affected her, that she was allowing him to see through the mask she so often wore.

'I want him to hurt.'

'I broke his nose, my love, and Bull is watching D'or after hearing him insult both you and Malakar. Trust me, he is hurting.'

She shook her head sharply. 'A few more broken bones can't hurt,' she snarled, eyes still burning with her anger, 'kaffas, why does everyone want to put me in a box?'

'I don't,' he whispered and the fight left her body. She looked up at him with wide eyes as he cupped her cheeks. 'I don't, Valina. Nor will I ever let anyone do so.'

Cullen clenched his teeth. He would never – could never – ask her to sacrifice such an integral part of herself just to assuage his own fears. He would be no better than the nobles that had coveted her for the better part of her life, no better than Benet D'or.

He cupped her cheeks, pulling her onto her toes. He kissed her until they were both breathless, kissed her like there would be no tomorrow, like this was the last kiss they would ever share, because, for all he knew, it would be.

He leant his forehead against hers, catching his breath before he said, 'I will proudly walk into battle with you by my side.'

A smile bloomed on her lips, and he was breathless again.

An hour later Cullen and Valina marched into battle with the soldiers, forming one blockade, then a second, and finally they moved forth alone to form a third outside the temple, knowing Malakar would soon follow with his companions.

The conflict seemed endless. For every Red Templar they cut down, more would take their place. For every elf they killed, more would appear from the shadows, as if the Wilds themselves grew an endless supply. For hours, they held the blockade as wave after wave of foes approached, the temple taunting them with its nearness.

Cullen drew the melee fighters in while Valina darted around the outskirts, quickly dispatching their bow-wielding foes with her daggers. They worked as a team, playing off the other's strengths, a violent dance of their harmonised fighting styles.

Valina cut down a final elf, and for a rare moment, peace fell around them at the third blockade. Her muscles burned from the fight, and her sharp breaths tore at her throat, but she knew that every enemy they cut down would be one less for Malakar and his companions to face.

Valina surveyed the scene around them. The ground was littered with bodies, the grass red from the blood and gore. She searched for Cullen, finding him across the clearing, reassured again to see him fatigued but unscathed.

Cullen's chest heaved with exertion and his surcoat was splattered in blood, but he still stood strong, his shoulders back, his foothold firm, his shield never falling, and his blade never faltering.

Valina found Cullen's gaze, and even though she was on the edge of collapse, she felt a thrill of fire burn through her veins to see her lion incarnate in the golden eyes that blazed through his helm.

All too soon the moment passed, and their violent dance resumed as more Red Templars charged. They dug in, prepared to fight for hours more should they have to, but before the enemies reached them fire and ice mines scattered the ground between Valina, Cullen, and their foes.

'They're here!' Cullen called, rushing to Valina's side. She did not hesitate, ducking for cover behind him when he held up his shield. The mines exploded, the sound ear-shatteringly loud this close, but between the ringing in her ears she heard fragments of red lyrium from a Horror pelt his shield, the fire mine leaving only ash and coal in its wake.

Malakar, Dorian, Cassandra, and Cole rushed into the fray, and soon the area was clear again.

'Are you both all right?' Malakar asked.

'Fine, we're fine,' Valina said.

'You've done enough. The way back to camp is cleared now, and there's a contingent of soldiers right behind us. They'll be here to take over the blockade soon.'

Cullen straightened, sword at the ready. 'We'll stay and fight, Inquisitor.'

Cassandra lowered her shield. 'Commander, we were told you've both been out here for hours.'

'It's been relentless, but nothing we can't handle.'

'The moment the soldiers arrive, I want you both to head back to camp. No arguments,' Malakar said, pre-empting the words already forming on Cullen's tongue.

Cullen pursed his lips. 'Maker watch over you, Inquisitor,' he said, 'everyone, be safe. We'll see you once this is over.'

'We can hope so,' Dorian said, 'I've still got a lovely bottle of wine from Tevinter stashed away for that very occasion.'

'Care to tell me where you've hidden it, just in case?' Valina asked as they passed.

Dorian turned, walking backwards, a smirk on his lips as he called, 'Raid your family's cellars if you want some that desperately. You're not getting any from my supply, Vicious.'

She smirked under her mask. 'Bull and Varric will lose their tongues if they spread that name any further.'

Dorian scoffed. 'And yet it suits you so well.'

Malakar grabbed Dorian's arm, turning him around. Valina watched their body language, seeing his shoulders stiffen when he met Malakar's gaze. For a moment, their fingers entwined, their eyes locking. They braced themselves for whatever lay ahead, their gazes speaking what they had no time to say before they reached the stone structure and disappeared within.

The Wilds fell quiet, an eerie hush broken only by the smooth shhhk of Valina returning her daggers to their sheaths. For the first time in hours, she allowed herself to be overwhelmed by her exhaustion, and she released a shuddering breath, dropping to her knees.

Fate was beyond their control now, all of Thedas resting in the hands of one extraordinary elf and his three companions.

Cullen crouched beside her, dropping his shield. His helm followed, clattering as it hit the boot-trampled, bloodied earth. He did not speak – he simply cupped her cheek with his hand, lifting her gaze. They stayed there, on the forest floor, stealing soft touches to reassure themselves of the other's safety until the soldiers arrived and took their posts, ready to hold the barricade.

Soldiers and scouts saluted as they passed. They walked in silence back to the main camp, prepared for lingering threats, but none emerged to face them, and soon they were weaving between the bustling Inquisition troops.

They liaised with Scout Harding, taking reports on the state of the Wilds, reassured to know that the Red Templar forces in had been cleared out of the immediate area. They managed a quick meeting with Josephine and Leliana to debrief and an hour of intent report reading before they were finally able to retire to their tent.

They stripped their bloodied clothes in silence, collapsing onto their mat and burrowing deep beneath the furs, a tangle of bone-tired, bruise covered limbs. It took mere minutes before Cullen allowed sleep to take him, too weary to fear his dreams when he held Valina so tightly.

For a while – how long, she did not know – Valina merely gazed at her slumbering lion. A smile lit her lips the see his blonde hair in such unruly curls. She swept her fingers through the tangled strands before she traced his cheek, his jaw, the roughness of his stubble an anchor to the present.

She longed to drift off into slumber by his side, yet she could not seem to calm her mind enough to follow; even as her body ached, thoughts churned within. Concern for the people she had come to call friends. Hope that the war would be over this night. Fear that once it was over…

She could not even think about the 'if' that danced on the edge of her thoughts. There had hardly been time to wonder about their future, let alone discuss it. Logically, she knew such thoughts should not upset her, but still, they lingered. It was unsettling, to be so affected by uncertainty when months before she felt indifferent about her future.

How things could change.

Valina managed only a few restless hours before a shadow appeared outside their tent.

'Commander? My Lady?' a scout called.

Valina cracked open an eye at the voice. 'Yes?'

'We've had word from the Inquisitor.'

They're safe, she thought, and she felt hope spark again.

'Thank you,' she said, as she extracted herself from Cullen's arms, 'we'll be there shortly.'

Valina roused him gently, careful not to startle him – it took time for fighting instincts to wear off.

Cullen furrowed his brow at her, holding her hand against his cheek as he mumbled, 'what is it, my love?'

'Malakar is back.'

Cullen dragged his eyes open. His movements were stiff as he sat up, an inadvertent groan rumbling in his chest at the pain that lingered in his battered body. He looked as exhausted as Valina felt, but she could mask the worse of her pain; she would not make him worry, not when bruises still lingered on her torso from the dragon fight. A strong elfroot potion would soothe the worst of her pain.

Cullen rubbed at his face, pulling at his cheeks as he tried to wipe away his grogginess. 'How long did we sleep?'

'I'm not sure,' she said, cupping his cheek, 'but it's dark now. I see only firelight outside.'

Valina stole a kiss then pushed the furs back. They stretched before they dressed, movements lethargic, their muscles aching and burning after days on the march and hours of fighting. Valina helped Cullen strap on his armour, his arms and back stiff from the weight of his shield and the heavy blows he'd landed with his sword.

She ran her fingers through his hair, sweeping the loose strands back. He caught her hand on his cheek, turning to place a kiss on her palm, savouring a final private moment before they emerged from the tent.

The camp was abuzz with rumours, but they had little time to listen to them, the scout which had woken them quickly leading them to Josephine's tent. Leliana was already waiting beside Josephine. The moment Valina and Cullen entered, they sensed the tension in the air.

'What happened?'

'We received a letter.'

'A letter?'

Josephine rose from the compact desk, handing them the missive. Cullen unrolled it, holding it so Valina could read it at the same time.

Inquisition Advisors,

Josephine Montiliyet, Leliana Nightingale, Cullen Rutherford.

Inquisition Camp, Arbor Wilds, Orlais.

My friends,

I hope this reaches you quickly. Do not wait for us in the Wilds. Much transpired in the temple, some beyond belief. I will explain in full when you arrive back at Skyhold, but for now, a brief account will have to suffice.

When we entered the temple we encountered Corypheus. We were prepared to fight, but he triggered an ancient magical trap. He seemed to die in the explosion, and we followed Samson deeper into the temple. We fought through the Red Templars there and encountered a number of elven rituals. It was lucky we completed them, time-consuming as they seemed. The elves that attacked us on the approach through the Wilds were sentinels, guardians to the Temple of Mythal. They appreciated the reverence we had shown, and we were able to negotiate an alliance. Morrigan, however, became angered when Abelas, their leader, said he would destroy the Well, an ancient source of knowledge and energies. She ran off alone, but I can assure you she is safe. The sentinels assisted us in stopping Samson, who will be returned to Skyhold for judgement, and when we reached Morrigan, I again negotiated with Abelas and he granted us access to the Well.

Morrigan drank from the Well and has gained the knowledge within. Corypheus clearly thought to take the knowledge for himself, and it is lucky he did not succeed. After Morrigan drank from the Well, we learnt that Corypheus still lives. I know not how, only that this is not over. I can tell you now hope is not lost, even though we were forced to flee through an eluvian to avoid Corypheus' wrath.

This is as much as I can tell you. I know it's not enough but it's as much as I can provide that will make sense in a letter. I promise to explain in full upon your return. Hurry back to Skyhold.

Malakar.

Scouts and allies were left in charge of packing up while Cullen, Valina, Leliana, and Josephine raced back to Skyhold. They wasted no time upon their return, meeting Malakar in the war room.

'I'm pleased to report we won the battle, Inquisitor,' Cullen said, 'but it appears that when you went through that mirror, Corypheus and his archdemon fled the field. I suspect it has something to do with the Well, as you mentioned in your letter.'

'What he wanted was no longer within the temple,' Morrigan said in confirmation.

Cullen nodded. 'He spent so long trying to get into the temple, he probably couldn't have helped his forces by that point.'

'Then Corypheus is finished?' Josephine asked, quill poised over her ledger.

'If he is wise,' Leliana said, 'he will rebuild his strength before he attacks again.'

'He will not hide.'

'Meaning he will attack us directly, at Skyhold?' Valina asked. It was a logical plan, especially for one as desperate as Corypheus would be after losing the Well.

The mage shook her head. 'Not necessarily, but neither will he remain idle.'

'And how could you have such insight into his plans?'

'The Well of Sorrows held many voices, and they speak to me now from across the ages,' Morrigan said, and Valina caught the wonder that lingered in her eyes, 'they hold wisdom, secrets I never dreamt possible. Even they fear what Corypheus has become.'

Malakar had been silent, lost in his thoughts, but the words seemed to jolt him from the depths of his mind. 'It sounds as if we should fear him more than we fear his army.'

A delicate shrug. 'Possibly, but he has a weakness.' A smirk curled her lips, subtle, as much of her expressions seemed to be. 'The dragon he calls is not an archdemon as seen in the Blight ten years ago. It is a dragon, in which Corypheus has invested part of his being. He doubtless did so out of pride, to emulate the gods of old, and his pride can be exploited. If you kill the dragon, his ability to leap into other bodies is disrupted. He can be slain.'

'Then what do you propose?' Cullen asked, voice sharp, 'killing the dragon is not a simple task, even if we could find it.'

'There is a way to defeat the dragon, to match Corypheus in his power. The Well whispers it to me. Your help will be required, Inquisitor. Speak to me when you're ready. I understand it has been a difficult few days, but I'm sure you appreciate the immediacy of the situation.'

Morrigan left without another word, leaving Malakar with his advisors and Valina.

'We'll see to Skyhold's defences in the meantime,' Cullen said, 'the recruits did well to defend the fortress in our absence, but in case Corypheus does plan an attack, we need to be ready.'

'Of course, Commander. After some rest, though,' Malakar said, 'we all need it.'

Valina touched Cullen's arm, knowing he would want to discuss the matter with Josephine and Leliana. 'I'll see you down at the Herald's Rest.'

She followed Malakar from the room, catching up to him in a few strides before they reached the door to Josephine's office.

'Malakar?'

He paused, turning to face her, a smile on his lips. 'You know, you're the only one who calls me by my name apart from Dorian. Everyone else calls me the Inquisitor or the Herald.'

'You were a person before you became the Inquisitor, and while I may be Andrastian, I don't believe it's fair to heap a religious title on you which insults your culture.'

'I…' He glanced down, taking a moment to process her words. 'Thank you, no one has ever…' He looked up again, clenching his jaw as he restrained his emotions. 'Thank you. Will you walk with me to the tavern?'

'Of course.'

They continued through Josephine's office and into the Great Hall. A few nobles lingered there, but they fell silent when they laid eyes on Valina. Her reputation had spread rapidly among the nobles since her arrival – the famed daughter of House Voclain – and none dared gossip within earshot of her.

When they exited the main doors, Malakar snorted, unable to contain his laughter any longer. 'It hasn't been that quiet in the Hall since this place was mostly in ruins.'

'Walk with me more often. You'll be amazed at how peaceful a noble can be when they know you can ruin them with a letter, or so the legends say.'

Malakar laughed again.

'I've been meaning to ask,' Valina said, 'why you've included me at the war table recently. You already have a military advisor, a spy, and a diplomat. I see not what else I can offer you.'

'Josie, Leliana, and Cullen each come at a problem from a specific angle. This has helped, on a number of occasions, but when it comes to something like Corypheus we've learnt that no single strategy works.'

'Go on.'

'You offer a unique perspective because you are in a unique situation. You understand the intricacies of battle like Cullen because you're experienced in combat. You are a skilled spy like Leliana, attested by your success as a mercenary, and your interesting arrival at Skyhold. You're a noble, and a feared one at that. You know the intricacies of a court like Josephine, and how to manipulate even the most powerful of our allies.'

'While I'm flattered by the analysis, it still means I offer you no more than you already have.'

'We're in a war, and we need action. You witnessed the conversation before we departed Skyhold for the Wilds. That was only one instance of disagreement between the three. I have spent many hours arguing at the war table with them because we couldn't agree on whether or not to contact a noble first, or whether we should send in extra scouts or recruit soldiers on the march to an area.'

They entered the tavern, and Valina claimed a seat facing the door. They waved down a server, taking a flagon each.

Malakar rubbed at his temples for a moment before he met her gaze. 'I hope my saying so doesn't offend you, but you have an incredible ability to compartmentalise, unlike anyone I have seen. You can remove your emotions from the situation, remove the specific lenses – be it military strategy, espionage, or diplomacy – and calculate an effective strategy without agonising over the hesitant 'if'. Many people who do not know you must think you cold for that, but that's what we need. It has helped in more situations than you realise, and it may be what gets us through this war.'

'You have a lot of faith in someone who Leliana described as chaotic neutral.'

'You heard about that, did you?'

A wicked smile curled her lips. 'Cullen will tell me anything if I ask nicely.'

'I… don't want to know,' Malakar said, though he did answer her smirk, 'but you wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. I'm sure the Commander is only one part of the drawcard.'

'He was the drawcard originally, but you're right. As much as I enjoy the life of a mercenary, I feel a part of something here. I've made friends here, learnt just how much Mireille twisted what it meant to be a friend. I've not had an opportunity to do that for longer than I care to remember because it was too dangerous. I suppose it still is, in some ways. Blackwall– Rainier, is proof that, to a degree, but at least his lie hurt him most of all.'

Malakar pursed his lips, and she knew he did not want to discuss the matter further. Rainier's lie had only recently been revealed, and although Malakar had forgiven Rainier because the man had shown himself to be unwaveringly loyal to the Inquisition, it was still a fresh wound. She knew, however, that his ire remained high primarily for the pain it had caused Josephine, one of Malakar's closest friends among the Inquisition – she'd yet to hear if the fledgeling romance had recovered.

Malakar cleared his throat. 'Tomorrow, we begin preparing to face Corypheus, once and for all. Let's not dwell on such things,' he said, dragging a smile onto his lips, 'our men should be here soon. For one night, I want to think of nothing but what I am thankful for.'

Valina raised her flagon. 'I can toast to that.'