AN: This chapter is the littlest bit NSFW, and I'm not cutting it because eh. I'm tired and it's not that much.

And panda-chan, I can't PM you since you're a guest, but I wanted to reply to your comment... yes there is a sequel in the works, and I'll mark it here when it's posted, but I will not be posting it here. Due to this website's frustrating rules and the lackluster response in general, the sequel will be exclusively on Archive of Our Own. I'll give everyone the details when it's time, if you're interested in following me over there once this 'book' wraps up. Thanks!

Chapter 30: A Brief Respite

The next months passed in a blur of peace and activity.

Leliana left several weeks later to go through the process of being confirmed as Divine. The public ceremony was to be held at the end of the month, and Errol, Cullen, and Cassandra were expected to attend. Leliana had already informed Errol that she planned to reaffirm her support of the Inquisition in her confirmation speech, but that Errol would also have to stand up and state her unwavering support of the Chantry, something that Errol was not looking forward to.

Cassandra remained with the Inquisition for the moment as she sought out any surviving Seekers of Truth and started to rebuild the Order, with the new Divine's support. Sera, Iron Bull, and the Chargers stuck around as well, accompanying Errol as she continued to close rifts and track down hidden Seekers for Cassandra. Cole was still there, of course, forever Errol's friend and shadow, though he grew more human with each passing day, now eating and sleeping at least twice a week.

Vivienne returned to the court at Halamshiral, taking up her old spot now that Morrigan had vacated it. The Witch of the Wilds was gone, off on some quest of her own with her newfound power of the Well of Sorrows, though she promised Errol she would attempt to discover a way to turn her fully human and that she would return periodically to check on her Eluvian.

Blackwall left only a few days after the victory party, and several weeks later they received a raven bearing the news that he'd survived his Joining and was now officially a Grey Warden.

It wasn't many days after the party that Cullen moved out of his room above his office and into Errol's quarters. Skyhold was abuzz with scandal — they weren't wed! — but Errol insisted that, considering she had just saved the world with her magic glowing hand and was personal friends with the Divine and the former Right Hand of the Divine and new leader of the Seekers, that living in sin was the least she deserved. Cullen merely silenced any talk in his vicinity with a signature glower, though nothing could dispel the looming threat of Varric's book.

Errol finally cornered Varric in the tavern one night. He was drinking alone and scribbling by the fire, the beer almost an afterthought. He would gaze into space for a minute or two, chewing on the end of his pen, then dip it into ink and write furiously, his words little more than blots on the page.

"So no writer's block, I take it."

He jumped when she sat down next to him. "Don't you know it's bad luck to interrupt a writer when he's working?" he groused, finally taking a gulp of lukewarm beer.

"Oh boo hoo," Errol said, sipping her mead daintily. "I'm here because I have a proposition for you, Tethras."

Varric tried and failed not to look interested. He pushed his papers to the side and crossed his arms. "The great Inquisitor has a proposition for little old me? I'm flattered. Do go on."

Errol leveled him with the flat look she usually reserved for card games. "You're going to take out everything we discussed—"

"Aw, this again? I told you, writer's prerogative!" Varric shook his head. "If I've told you once I've told you a thousand times, never trust a Tevinter—"

"Take out what we discussed," Errol interrupted him, "and I'll provide you with exclusive content you'd never get otherwise."

Varric stopped what he was saying and leaned forward, steepling his hands together. "All right, you've got my interest. What kind of content are we talking about?"

"Information about my world. All of its stories. History. Culture. Technology. Hundreds upon hundreds of stories on all topics. Anything and everything. You've got a fountain of knowledge right here, just waiting to tell you about a whole universe you could never even imagine. So." She rested her chin on her knuckles and smiled slightly. "Do we have a deal?"

Varric appeared deep in thought. "I have to put something in," he finally said. "The masses must be appeased."

Errol hmphed. "You can note that the relationship exists."

"How about wrapped in a passionate embrace, gently fading away just as the good stuff starts."

"One kiss."

"Four, with tongue."

"Two, no tongue, and you have to write something embarrassing about Dorian and Iron Bull. That's my final offer."

He appraised her, then held out his hand. "You drive a hard bargain, Sunshine. Consider my pen restrained." They shook, and he grinned, devious. "Now what exactly should I write about our favorite Sparkler, hmmm? I've got a couple ideas already…"

Errol heard the drag of his footsteps coming up the stairs before he appeared. "Long day?" she asked without turning around, sweeping her hair into a knot on top of her head.

When Cullen didn't answer she turned to find him standing at the top of the steps, his eyes moving from her sheer robe to the steaming tub set up in the corner, the top of the water already slick with oils. He shook himself out of his thoughts and began to remove his armor. "Even after the battle is ended the work never ceases. How was your day?"

"Orlesians," Errol said shortly, walking to the bath and testing the heat of the water with her fingertips. He winced in sympathy as he worked on the clasps of his bracers.

"Ah."

"The good news is I have time for one last trip to close some nearby rifts before Leliana's confirmation as Divine," she said, slipping the robe from her shoulders and sinking into the blissfully hot water. She began to scrub her toes with a bar of jasmine-scented soap from Val Royeaux. "I still can't believe I have to stand up and praise the Chantry, of all things."

"Just keep reminding yourself that Leliana could still have you murdered at any moment," he said, only half-teasing, his attention on one particularly difficult buckle. "As for the rifts, you don't mean to tell me you're leaving tomorrow?"

"It's only for a few days. I figured I'd give myself the night off. Care to join me?"

The buckle finally released, and Cullen looked up. His pupils dilated slightly at the sight of her, one leg stretched out of the bath as she worked soap over her calf. "I— yes, I believe I would."

Errol stifled a giggle as he shucked off the rest of his armor with alarming speed, his shirt, breeches and smalls soon following. She shifted forward and a moment later his familiar weight settled in behind her, sloshing the water almost to the brim.

"Mmm," she hummed, leaning back against his chest and handing him the soap. "That's much better. Wash me please?"

"As my lady commands," he said, his voice a low rumble in her ear, and soon she felt the soap sweep down her arms and around her breasts, until they were covered in white foam.

Errol practically purred, melting into him. "By the way, our new Spymaster arrived today."

"I received notice he arrived but didn't have time for a formal greeting. I heard he traveled with Leliana during the Blight. How did you find him?"

"Very… charming?"

"You say that with such sincerity."

"I don't really know how to feel. He's a former Antivan Crow who tried to seduce me three times within the first ten minutes of meeting me, and yet I still like him. It's unnerving."

Cullen choked a little and turned it into a laugh. "Leliana did recommend him personally."

"The Blight certainly brings people together."

There was quiet for a moment as he continued to work diligently across her shoulders. Then she twisted to look at him, a grin on her face. "Oh, I almost forgot! I had a little conversation with our resident writer. Victory is ours."

Cullen chuckled as he gently moved her forward so that he could wash her back. He had never in his life laughed as much before he met her. "What did you offer him?"

"All the plagiarism he could ever want. Stories from my world. He'll never have to come up with another unique idea again."

"Doesn't that sounds a little…"

"Wrong? They're not doing anyone any good here, and if it keeps him out of our private business, I'm inclined to let him have his fame."

Errol took the soap from him and turned around, so that she was on her knees, and began lathering his chest. He said nothing about it, just closed his eyes, settled back, and let her work him over. "You should have asked for a cut of any books that come from ideas you give him."

"Oh, I will. Once the Inquisition's story is out and published. How does ten percent sound?"

"He'll make it five."

"I'll make it seven."

Cullen cracked his eyes open to smile lazily at her. "You should have been a rogue," he mused.

Errol leaned forward and kissed him, her hand tracing him lightly under the water. "You should be in bed," she murmured. "You've been hard since you got in the bath."

He bucked as she grasped him fully, her hand slippery with soap. "I'm not sure I'll make it to the bed if you keep doing that, love," he gasped as she pumped him.

"Mmm, maybe I've changed my mind," she said, nipping at his neck. "You're so tense, and this water is so warm…" She increased the pressure and pace and he groaned, his head falling back. "It's nice to see you just relax."

She added more slick suds to her fingers and then used both hands, alternating pressure, rolling one palm along his sensitive head while she stroked, then using her thumbs to run firm lines along the underside of him. In minutes he was thrusting in her hands, his knuckles clenched white around the edge of the tub, his voice a rough mixture of hers and the Maker's name as he came.

Afterwards he kissed her, his whole body languid, and they slipped from the water.

He was quiet for a few minutes, content to just be near her, but finally he spoke.

"So what comes next?" he asked, watching Errol as she sat on her knees next to him on the bed and combed through her tangled, wet hair. He idly wiped water away with a towel as it dripped down her bare back.

"What do you mean?"

"The Inquisition will always be here, even after the rifts are closed. There's no denying that now, especially not with our military and connections to Celene, Briala's elves, and the new Divine. Everyone seems to have an idea of where they'll go from here but I find myself at a loss, with the exception that I want it to be with you."

Errol was silent for a moment as she brushed. "I… don't know," she confessed, working on a particularly difficult tangle as a way to not look him in the face. "I'm still hoping there's a way to make me fully human, I still believe there must be a way, especially with someone like Morrigan and the Well of Sorrows on our side, but even if I can become mortal…"

She sighed and took the towel from his hands, draping it over her shoulders and turning to face him. It was still hard to meet his eyes. "Cullen, I don't know what kind of life I'll be able to lead. I likely won't be a mage anymore, my power is rooted in my being a spirit, and once that's gone my connection to the Fade will likely go as well. Maybe the Anchor will vanish - I'll have to wait until all the Fade rifts are closed to even try, and you know there are so many small rifts left it could take two years to close them all. And maybe I won't ever be able to become human. And even if I can, with everything that's happened, there's a strong chance I won't be able to… give you children. I just don't see this ending with us living out our days on a little farmhouse somewhere being happy." She bowed her head, feeling stripped bare to the core, made even worse by the fact that she was still naked. "I'm sorry."

Cullen brought his hand around to the back of her head and pulled her in so that he could press a kiss to her forehead. "Errol, look at me." She met his eyes, tentatively "Do I look like the kind of man who would be happy settling down in a farmhouse somewhere, or even in a castle? I'm not meant for idle hands or tilling land. I'm a soldier, and I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about that. Any hope for a different future for me was killed a long time ago. You consider yourself broken, but most women would find me the broken one."

A protest was immediately on her lips. "Don't you ever say—"

"Then don't you either. Neither of us are exactly… typical, but that's why we work together. We bring out each other's strengths."

"And… not having a family doesn't bother you?"

He sighed and shifted so that she was in his lap, his fingers idly stroking her smooth ropes of wet hair. "I can't deny the thought has crossed my mind, but as we just said, the future is uncertain. Who's to say what will happen if you're made mortal? And if we can't have our own, there are plenty of parentless children who need love. Or it could just be the two of us. It's something we'll consider once this has all settled down. I assure you, I'm not opposed to the idea, but not desperate, either. We lead a difficult life. I'm not even certain it would be wise to bring children into it. Plus, isn't it a little early for this conversation? I haven't even— I mean—" He blushed, looking away, words clearly on the tip of his tongue.

"Don't," Errol said, and at his pained look she kissed his jaw to soften the blow. "If you're thinking about it, if that's what you want—"

"I do," he said, his voice low. "Errol—"

"I want you to ask me when I'm human," she said, interrupting him again. She laced their fingers together and raised his hand to her heart, holding it there. "Really here, really human. No chance I'll go full-spirit, no chance I'll get pulled back to my world. I want to be here, with you, and celebrate with all of our friends in the sun. I don't want us to be built on a foundation of lies." She laughed a little, sadly. "Listen to me. A foundation of lies. Jesus Andraste, when did I get so damn melodramatic?"

He brought their entwined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "I'll wait, then, until that day comes."

"Thank you."

"But if asked, I mean— you don't have to— but if I did—"

"Of course I'd say yes," Errol said, leaning in to nuzzle him. "My love, my Commander."

She felt his small sigh of relief as he kissed her, his lips gentle and wondering, like the question had already been asked. When they broke apart she rested her forehead against his and traced his jaw with her fingertips.

"I fear… that something bad is on the horizon. I can feel it inside of me, like this is the eye of the storm and we're celebrating victory too early. Something's wrong, I can feel it."

"Whatever it is, we'll face it together," he said. "As always."

I hope so, she thought, but all she said was, "yes," and kissed him again, and let him help her forget about her fear for another night.

For a time, they had their frail peace, despite rifts to close, nobility to entertain, a Divine to confirm, mages and templars to reign in, and an Inquisition to run.

But three months after their victory, amid creeping whispers of dissension among the Grey Warden ranks, Weisshaupt went silent, and all news from Blackwall and Alistair stopped. Since the Hero of Ferelden was still stubbornly refusing to return until she completed her secret quest, Errol conferred with her remaining advisors and decided to go investigate — if anyone would be allowed entrance into the Grey Warden fortress it was the Inquisitor and personal friend to current Warden-Commander Alistair.

She was just choosing her team for the journey when, one night, she dreamed once more of Haven.