The Inquisitor's Ghost
Author's Note: This chapter has a soundtrack: Bloodstream by Stateless. This chapter is based on an in-game banter between Cole and Iron Bull.
Chapter 19 – Candy
And down they fled
Into darkness and despair
- Threnodies 8:28
It was sunrise in Emprise Du Lion. Just outside of a red templar stronghold that served as their primary source of red lyium, Ember stood in the snow in the stronghold's massive courtyard, her back pressed against a marble column. She was drenched from head to toe in a cold sweat, breathing hard, her lungs fighting for breath. Her daggers were crossed over her chest, her face covered with snowflakes, sweat, blood, and dirt.
"Inquisitor! You got a wave heading straight for you!" Varric called in warning from his perch up high that provided the archer the best view to cause the most damage.
Ember exhaled slowly before stepping out from behind the column and ramming her dagger into a red templar who was about to run passed her and attack Cullen while his back was turned. The blade plunged deep into the red templar's chest, taking him by surprise, a second before it was ripped out.
She spun away from his toppling body. With sleek litheness, she ran forward to meet two approaching red templars. With two daggers in her hands she dove, as if performing a swan dive into a pool of water, and in mid-air her daggers sliced through their throats right before she fell forward into a perfect forward roll. She was on her feet in an instant and sent both daggers flying forward into the chests of two red templars who were almost upon her, their weapons raised. They fell dead to the snowy ground as she raced passed them, her steps never slowing, never faltering as she rushed into the fray.
"The righteous stand before the darkness," the Herald whispered in prayer as she unslung the bow around her shoulders and notched an arrow. "And the Maker shall guide their hand." The grip on her bow was steadfast as she aimed and fired.
The arrow soared through the air and sank into the skin between the eyes of the approaching red templar. As he fell forward she leapt, one foot landing on his shoulder and she pushed off it to leap up and scissor a red templar's head between her legs and flip him over onto his back. Ember lifted a dagger from her belt as she straddled him and slashed the blade across his throat.
She rolled backwards over her shoulder and stood on her feet, raising her bow. Swift nimble fingers drew an arrow from her quiver, aimed, and released. Before the arrow hit its mark, Ember pulled another arrow, took aim, and fired. She reached back again, pulled, aimed, and released. Ember was panting as she watched all three arrows pierce the skin right between the eyes of three red templars.
"Ahh, shiiit! There's no end to them!" Bull roared a few feet away from her, his greatsword slicing through multiple enemies with each swing while Bianca rained down arrows upon the red templars in the snow-covered courtyard.
"Inquisitor, we are outnumbered! We need to retreat! We can't last much longer!" Cullen shouted as he ran up behind her, his sword cutting down enemies with each step.
"No!" she shot back, frustrated and furious. "We got Samson cornered and trapped in that stronghold! We got him! We can't let him get away now!"
A side gate was ripped off at the hinges. Ember ducked right before the gate hit her. Her eyes widened as four Red Templar Behemoths moved into the courtyard. They were massive in size with blood red crystals of red lyrium sticking out of their shoulders. They screamed in unison. Not a roar or a growl – a scream, all rage and pain. As Ember strapped her bow to her back and bent to pull her last two daggers that were strapped to her calves, all she could think was that there was a templar in there. Somewhere in that thing was a man or a woman. But whoever it might have been, their humanity was lost, swallowed by corruption and lies.
"Inquisitor," Cullen said beside her. "I blocked off the entrance. The red templars can't get into the courtyard. For now. This is our chance to retreat." She glared at him and he shook his head at her. "We cannot win this fight, Inquisitor. It will take all five of us just to take down one of those things, and the red templars will be swarming us again in a few minutes."
"What do you wanna do, boss?" Bull asked gravelly as he moved to stand on her other side, breathing heavily despite his attempts to hide it.
"We need to get Samson."
"Inquisitor," Cullen said, drawing her name out with a touch of censure.
She cut him off by holding up her hand. Her eyes narrowed on the four behemoths in front of her, her breath billowing puffs of white mist in front of her face as she thought.
"Bianca!" she called out after a long pause. "Hit number four on my right with everything you got on my signal!"
"You got it, your Inquisitorialness!" she heard Varric call down to her from his hiding spot high above them on the catwalk.
"Bull, on my say you chop down the big one in the middle like you're a damn lumberjack and it's a frickin tree."
Bull chuckled. "You got it, boss."
"Cullen, you get through that blockade, make it into the stronghold, and get Samson."
Irritated, Cullen looked at her. "And how, pray tell, do you plan on my doing that?"
Ember smirked up at him as she handed him a Fire Bomb grenade.
Cullen's eyebrows shot up to his hairline in surprise. "Oh," he said simply as he took the grenade from her, obviously impressed. "And what about you?"
Her breath condensed in front of her face, snowflakes falling upon her, sticking to her eyelashes and reddening her cheeks. "I'll take care of the other two behemoths."
Cullen's face fell, the scar on his upper lip deepening. "Wait? What about the red templars? I only bought us a few minutes. They'll break through the barricade and you'll be overwhelmed in seconds."
A warm, little smile touched her lips as she looked away from Cullen to stare over her shoulder at the empty space behind her where small whirlwinds of snow were dancing along the open expanse of whiteness that covered the ground.
"Will you keep them off of me?" she asked the snowy emptiness behind her, a tenderness in her aquamarine eyes that only a rare few were ever privileged enough to see in the Herald of Andraste's eyes.
"They won't hurt you," came the gently spoken response from the very air itself. "I'd never let that happen."
Cole flickered to life a few feet behind her. The wide brim of his hat was lowered low over his face, concealing his eyes. He looked supremely dangerous in the black leather armor he wore, especially with the dual daggers in his hands that were coated with fresh blood.
"Inquisitor, you can't be serious?" Cullen grumbled beside her, though her eyes refused to leave Cole. "If you and the others focus on the behemoths, you will be leaving Cole to take on the endless waves of red templars alone. If you do that, it will die."
When she didn't even blink an eyelash, seeming unfazed, Cullen scowled at her side profile.
"I'm not its number one fan or anything, but if you do this you will be sending Cole to its death!" Cullen exclaimed. "Or its termination, its expiration, send it back to the Fade, or whatever it is that happens to a demon when it dies!"
Cole's chin lowered, the wide brim of his hat hiding his eyes, but she could see one corner of his mouth lifting just slightly into a little smirk. "They can't hurt me."
Those low, rich tones seeped into her skin, warming her from the inside out despite the freezing temperature around her. There was a rush of adrenaline pumping through her and she knew her body wasn't having this reaction because she was in the middle of a fight, but simply because Cole was standing in front of her, looking at her, smiling that little smirk that could turn her inside out.
In the distance she heard a grenade go off, destroying the barricade Cullen had created. Cole nodded before turning his back to her, taking a few steps away. Admiration rippled through her as she watched the steel in his hands roll skillfully between his long, dexterous fingers as he faced the first wave of red templars that had broken through the barricade.
"You won't see me," she heard Cole murmur to the approaching wave of red templars with a soft confidence that only he could have as he spun the daggers expertly in his hands before becoming nothing more than a gust of winter wind.
The others burst into action around her, carrying out her orders, but for a long moment all Ember could do was watch Cole as he attacked with unrivaled proficiency. He moved in that mesmerizing way that defied tracking with the naked eye. His skills with a blade were honed and ruthless. Unmatched. You couldn't kill what wasn't there, and Cole was able to disappear from the world whenever he wanted. It reminded her how otherworldly and untouchable he was, and that dangerous allure called to everything feminine in her. And despite the fact that Cole was fighting dozens of red templars singlehandedly, a fight that Cullen had thought suicidal, she still felt his eyes on her the entire time.
A scream from behind her caused her to spin around to face the two behemoths approaching her. The Inquisitor's body ached from dozens of bruises and cuts, but she ignored the pain and forced herself into action. With a cry, the Herald of Andraste threw her left hand forward and green sparks flew from it as the Veil tore and a rift formed above the heads of the two behemoths. Their screams, loud and shrill, split the air as they were sucked into the Fade, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.
Two down, two to go.
Ember turned to find the fourth behemoth covered in arrows. Before she could take one step toward the creature, Bianca's arrow flew through the air and embedded itself in the skull of the fourth behemoth, killing it instantly.
Only one to go.
"I'm out of arrows!" she heard Varric call out, but his words were drowned by the scream of the last remaining behemoth as its claw sliced across Bull's arm causing the Qunari to growl in response.
Ember's eyes narrowed to slits on the creature as she raced forward to plunge her daggers deep into the exposed side of the behemoth. The creature screamed in pain before swinging towards her. Ember leaned back to avoid it, but the tip of its claw slashed across her eyebrow, cutting deep, causing blood to stream down the side of her face.
The behemoth tried to gut her with its claw, but she flipped backwards, quickly putting space between them. Before the behemoth could attack her again, Bull charged in and swung his sword at the creature's leg, slicing its Achilles tendon open.
Ember wiped the blood off her face with her sleeve before she sprinted towards Bull who was currently running his sword into the back of the creature's leg.
"Bull!" she shouted as she ran towards the Qunari.
Bull slashed at the behemoth's calf before facing her. "What?"
A sly grin crept onto Ember's face, her eyes glinting diabolically. "I need a lift."
Bull grinned back knowingly. "You got it, boss."
Ember picked up speed, pushing her exhausted and bleeding body harder and faster. Bull strapped his sword before bending down, one hand on top of the other, hands held out slightly in front of his body. Ember leapt at him, placing her hands on Bull's shoulders and her feet in his hands. Bull dipped and tossed her into the air with all his strength. Ember turned in mid-air and brought her daggers down into its upper back right below the red lyrium crystals growing out of its shoulders.
The beast screamed and turned sharply causing her daggers to drag down its back, cutting through tendons and tissue before becoming lodged in the bones of its spine. She tried to pull her daggers out but they were stuck.
Catching her unawares, the behemoth's massive hand reached around to encircle her waist completely before rippling her off its back, her daggers still stuck. The creature held her like a doll in front of its face, red crystals sprouting out of its neck and shoulders. It screamed in her face, its rotten breath so putrid she nearly gaged. It began to squeeze her, like she was a grape. Ember gritted her teeth against the pain, feeling her ribs bend and creak. She clawed at its hand to try and get free as it brought her closer to its face, prepared to finish her.
Steel whizzed passed her ears, so close it ruffled the red curls around them, right before twin daggers became embedded in the behemoth's red glowing eyes, causing red blood to spew in rivers from the daggers embedded in those red eyes.
The behemoth roared, the blaring sound fading as the life left the creature. Its huge and lifeless body plummeted backward to the ground, taking her with him. The behemoth collided violently into the snow-covered earth with a thunderous crash, causing a shockwave to ripple out from the impact.
As the dust settled, Ember rose slowly, shakily from the behemoth's neck. She jumped tiredly off the creature's neck and landed on the ground hard, falling to one knee. As she slowly got to her unsteady feet, her eyes lifted to peer up at Cole who strolled casually up to the head of the behemoth. He stared down at the red lyrium filled creature from beneath his wide-brimmed hat before bending down and grabbing his daggers sticking out of the beast's eyes. He planted his foot on top of its head, and pushed it off of his daggers. Cole shook the blood from his daggers before sheathing them at his back.
Ember looked over her shoulder to find Bull coming to stand beside her followed by Varric. She nodded at them before starting on the long, icy approach to the stronghold. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cole flank them.
With each step toward the red templar stronghold, which stood four stories high and built of gray stone, the adrenaline subsided and her body began to feel its many injuries. The front entrance was very imposing, she thought, as she mounted the numerous frost-covered granite steps to reach it. Inside was as cold as it was out, but with an added dreariness and sense of menace. There was no one around, not one red templar. There wasn't even a sound. Fires caused by battle and a hasty attempt to destroy all evidence were the only source of light and the flames flickered across the black marble floors that were stained with blood and littered with corpses.
"Which way?" she whispered into the eerie silence.
Bull and Varric both shrugged.
Cole lifted his head into the air, eyes searching, as if listening. After a long pause, he stepped forward and pointed down a long, dark corridor. "There."
They proceeded quietly down the long dark hallway before Cole broke the silence. "The Iron Bull, in the fight, you let someone hit you so they wouldn't hit me."
"Yes?"
"But you hate demons."
Bull sighed. "Listen, Cole. You might be a weird, squirrelly guy, but you're my weird, squirrelly guy."
"Oh. Thank you."
Bull grumbled, "Just don't make it weird. No full hugs. Maybe a one-armed slap on the back… at most."
"Alright."
Silence descended again as they passed a massive pile of corpses, most of their limbs removed. In order to break the heaviness of the mood, Varric cleared his throat and asked, "Hey, Kid, what would a pride demon say to weaken a warrior's resolve? I need something that gets under the skin."
"Does she use a big sword, or a sword and shield?"
"One of the big two handers."
"The next time you imagine him touching you, someone you love will die."
"Err, well, that went a little dark. Who's 'him' in this?"
"She knows who he is. Does it not work for your book?"
"No, it works great! Just glad you're not that kind of demon."
When they reached the end of the hallway, Cole pointed toward the next corridor they needed to follow. "Cullen, Samson, and Maddox are this way," Cole whispered as she passed him to walk down the hallway.
Ember's pulse leapt at the sound of Maddox's name. She'd never told Cole or anyone else about how she knew the circle mage Maddox and his wife Raven - Samson's beloved sister who'd secretly married Maddox in Kirkwall. Raven… it hurt just thinking about her, about the comely and friendly woman who'd asked Ember to carry her love letters to her husband when Ember had been seventeen-years-old and an apostate who'd gone to Kirkwall in search of Sister Nightingale.
For months Ember had carried Raven's and Maddox's love letters to each other. But one night, while walking the streets of Kirkwall on her way to the Gallows, a gang calling themselves the Invisible Sisters had ambushed her. Ember had defeated the gang members, but a sword had cut her leg, though she'd failed to realize it. She'd gone to the Gallows and obtained Maddox's love letter for his wife, but her leg had been bleeding and she'd left a trail of blood from Maddox's window to Raven's house in Lowtown where Ember had left Maddox's love letter on Raven's front porch.
A Kirkwall templar named Ser Alrik had followed the trail of blood. He'd found the love letter on the porch that Maddox had written for Raven and he'd assumed her brother Samson was the one who'd carried the letter. The templars had arrested Raven that night. Ember had seen the templars close in on the sweet woman's house. She knew what they were going to do and she knew that Raven needed her help. But Ember had been seventeen-years-old and an apostate. She'd been scared, terrified of being arrested by templars, of being beaten and raped, of being thrown into the dungeons or worse, made Tranquil.
Ember had known then that the right thing was to help the innocent woman who's only crime had been loving a mage with all her heart. But Ember hadn't done the right thing. Instead of helping, she'd run away, leaving the poor woman to her fate, hearing her screams as she ran.
Ember had been the reason Samson had been discharged from the Templar Order, the reason Maddox was made Tranquil, and the reason Raven was arrested for helping Maddox escape the circle one night so they could be married in the Chantry. But Raven hadn't been arrested immediately. Ser Alrik, a sadist, had done unspeakable things to Raven first before throwing her into the dungeons at the Gallows.
Ember carried that guilt around with her every day and lately, having to come face to face with her greatest regret, that guilt was starting to really eat at her. It didn't help that Samson hated her so much for what she'd done to him, his sister, and his brother-in-law that he'd joined Corypheus to become the Vessel so that he would have the power to make her suffer for her sins before he destroyed her.
When they were about half way down the hallway, Cole murmured, "Notes drip through the air."
He began to hum a slow, haunting tune that made the dark, unnerving fortress they were in even spookier.
"Cole?" Ember asked quietly, apprehensively, the haunting tune causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.
"I watched her dance upon the water, beneath a blanket of stars," Cole sang softly, as if he was hearing a song playing somewhere in the distance. "She twirled and twirled, until she made the night ours."
"That's… really creepy, Kid," Varric grumbled as they continued to walk down the dark and eerie corridor.
"In my circle tower I watch," Cole continued to sing, as if he hadn't heard Varric. "Watch the boat take my heart across the sea."
Bull muttered, "Cole… buddy… why don't you stop with the weird, ominous singing in the dark and spooky fortress-"
"City of Chains you take away my mind. But never the memory of the girl that was mine."
"Boss… he's being creepy again," Bull whined through gritted teeth.
"Raven, oh Raven mine, with yellow ribbons in her hair." Cole's voice turned thick. "Why take a knife to skin so fair?"
Ember winced before swallowing thickly and speaking in a small voice, "Cole… please stop-"
"Raven, oh Raven mine, my love and my wife," Cole sang softly, sadly, as if he was watching an invisible scene play before his eyes. "Why, oh why, did you end your life?"
Cole must be feeling Maddox's feelings, she thought. That was the only explanation for how Cole could know such things. No one knew that story. Knight-Commander Meredith had made sure of that. All they knew was that Samson had been discharged from the Templar Order for delivering messages between Maddox and his sweetheart. They didn't know the whole story. But it was strange that Cole was hearing anything at all from Maddox. Maddox was Tranquil, and the Tranquil were stripped of their emotions.
"Yellow ribbons in her hair, yellow ribbons in her hair." The words were sung close to her ear, making her shiver. "Falling, falling into puddles of red on the prison floor."
She looked at him, but he quickly looked away from her. Did he know? Did Cole know her deepest and darkest confession? If he did, what did he think of her for not helping Raven? He was a spirit of compassion and what she'd done was the opposite of compassion. Was he disgusted with her? She felt so ashamed.
They came to a stop once they reached the end of the hallway, which deadened with one door on the right and one door on the left.
"Maddox is to the left. Samson and Cullen are to the right," Cole supplied beside her, still not looking at her.
Ember nodded. "Bull and Varric, you two go to the right and help Cullen. Cole and I will get Maddox. Let's meet up out front."
Varric and Bull nodded before disappearing through the door on the right.
With Cole beside her, Ember walked through the left door into what looked like a bedroom that had red lyrium crystals growing out of the ground that were at least seven feet tall.
Her eyes were immediately drawn to the raven soaked in blood, sliced open down the middle, resting on the top of a nightstand beside a bed. Heart beating a hard rhythm against her ribs, Ember moved forward on numb legs and reached for the note lying beside the dead bird's carcass.
The new world. The new god. The red storm will rise. The Inquisitor will die for her sins.
- S
Ember frowned down at the note Samson had left for her before dropping it back to the nightstand. She looked up to find Cole staring at the back wall.
Her heart grew heavy with each step she took as she approached the back of the room where Maddox was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall in his circle mage robes. His brown hair wasn't long and flowing as she remembered it, but was rather cut close to his head. Those brown eyes that had always been warm and friendly were now empty and vacant as they watched her approach. But the greatest change about him was the Chantry sunburst burned onto his forehead that announced him as a Tranquil mage.
Just seeing Maddox again after six years tore her heart to pieces, knowing everything that had happened to him and his wife had been all her fault. Her eyes lingered on the Chantry sunburst burned into his forehead with lyrium and she almost wept. No mage should ever be made Tranquil. She would never be made Tranquil. She would rather die as Ember Laurent – apostate turned prisoner turned Herald turned Inquisitor - than live as an empty shell of her.
"Hello, Inquisitor," Maddox said in a monotone voice that was completely devoid of emotion.
"Maddox, I…" she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Your Tranquil."
"Yes," he answered without feeling. "For Samson's punishment, Knight-Commander Meredith made him make me Tranquil before he was discharged from the Order."
Ember's hand flew to her mouth. That was news to her. She didn't know that Samson had been the one to do the deed. Samson loved Maddox just as much as he loved his sister Raven, and Knight-Commander Meredith had forced him to be the one to make his treasured brother-in-law Tranquil. That woman truly had been a monster.
Ember's eyes took in Maddox's pallor. "You're hurt. Here, have a health potion," she said as she handed the small red bottle to him.
"That would be a waste," he droned blandly. "I drank my entire supply of blightcap essence. It won't be long now."
Ember's breath caught. "Maddox…"
He blinked at her with those dead eyes. "I destroyed the camp with fire. We all agreed it was best. Our deaths ensured Samson had time to escape."
"You threw your lives away? For Samson? Why?"
"He is my brother-in-law. I love him." Maddox's eyes began to droop. "I see her. My… Rav…" His eyelids fluttered, his chest rose once, and then the life left him suddenly.
Ember turned away, unable to stare into those eyes that looked just as dead now as they had been when he'd been speaking to her only moments before.
"He kept searching, seeking, sad, but she was gone," she heard Cole whisper to her back. "Now he's with her again."
"Yeah," she replied miserably.
Ember turned to face him and though she wanted to walk into his arms and draw comfort from his embrace, she forced herself to survey him with only friendliness. She hated that she couldn't wrap her arms around him right now. She hated the fake smile she had to plaster on her face. She hated that everyday for the past week she'd had to talk to him and look at him like there wasn't this connection between, like they hadn't slept together, like everything was okay the way it was when it was anything but.
"The others need us," Cole said without emotion, sounding remarkably like Maddox.
Ember nodded and forced the fake smile on her face to broaden, to reassure him, and tried not to get irritated when he showed no reaction. His indifference more than piqued her, it wounded. She felt a strong urge to slap him, to try and force him to react like his typical self. His continued distance and apathy left her with a discontent that felt sharp and bitter.
She just missed him. So much.
Especially right now when her past was coming back to haunt her.
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Later that day and the group was only half a day's journey from Skyhold. The remaining trek to Skyhold was almost three miles and they'd decided to walk to give the horses a much needed rest. Thankfully, they ran into a few scouts who were returning to Skyhold as well and they'd happily agreed to tend to the horses for them.
Varric, Bull, and Cullen were walking a few feet in front of her, deep in conversation, while Cole followed along side her. As they walked in silence, she took the moment to look at him. She looked at the tall leanness of him, at the way his narrow hips moved when he walked.
She looked away from him and they continued walking without speaking, just as they'd been doing since they left the Red Templar stronghold earlier in the day. She shivered once and began to rub her arms, then looked up to see Cole staring down at her. His eyes were like two coals, burning as they looked at her.
She looked away this time, a blush to her cheeks, but she could still feel his gaze directly on her side profile. She was aware of the exaggerated breaths she had to take in now that he was not only next to her but also staring at her, so she attempted to slow them down.
Before today, it had been a week since she'd last spoken to Cole or made eye contact with him. There was always an arm's length between them now. An air of danger, of caution, of remorse. He avoided her like the plague and she let him, despite everything inside of her that screamed for her not too. But she had to. She truly believed that all he needed was time. Time to adjust. Time to grow accustomed to the wash of primal and unknown feelings that were swirling through him, alien and strong.
Cole had somehow designated himself the villain and she hated how he'd managed to get there. He thought he'd hurt her when he hadn't, but was unable to understand the difference. He thought his feelings toward her and the urge to possess made him a demon when it only made him human. She would help him see that he wasn't a villain and help him as best she could on his path to becoming human.
She wouldn't break, but she would bend. Bend because she knew he needed her too. He needed time and space, and she would give him that. Afterward, they wouldn't just return to where they were. They would grow from this, become stronger because of it. She was sure of it. But patience had never been her strong suit.
He'd been the only thing she could think about. She found herself stealing glances out her window any chance she got to watch him help the people of Skyhold. She watched the literal embodiment of compassion put turnips in the fireplaces so the soldier could smell them and think he'd gone home. She watched him leave peeled plums on the windowsills to attract flies for the spiders to eat so that the healers could use their webs to treat infected wounds. He stole bread from the kitchens and threw it on the battlements so that a badly injured solider who was fighting to stay alive until winter saw the birds and knew that it wasn't winter yet. She watched him steal an entire cheese wheel and crushed mint. He used the cheese to attract mice, who then lured the cats. He then used the mint to make the cats dance to amuse the cook so she wasn't yelling at the scullery maids. She watched him pickpocket everyone's daggers and hide them in a barrel, clearly finding them safer in there than on someone's belt.
It warmed her heart to watch him so focused in making this world just that little bit better, one smile at a time. But, sweet Andraste, her heart was aching something awful by allowing him to keep himself away, and something much worse when he was near. She had to constantly remind herself that this forced separation was for the best, but it didn't help how much she missed him. She found herself aching for the slightest touch. She longed for his presence, for the friendly banter, for those heated moments they had shared that were too few and too precious.
And he wasn't helping with the way he watched her. Which he did. Constantly. No matter where she moved she could feel his eyes on her. Every time she ventured to glance in his direction, she found his eyes drilling into her, trying to get into her head. But he always looked away and he never touched her.
It hurt how he treated whatever it was between them like it was wrong, especially since she knew he still felt what she felt. So she wasn't going to give up on him. She wouldn't admit defeat. She wouldn't back down. She wouldn't give up. Maybe, in time, he might come to love her, at least some fraction of the gut-deep, heartsick longing that tied her up in knots. Until then, if he couldn't show her the error of her path and if she was unable forge them ahead, then she would simply take root and refuse to move, like a tree.
Ember shook her head of her thoughts as she walked on the dirt path in the open grass field. She was sweating in her dirty armor and utterly exhausted, her calves beginning to ache. Fortunately, the sun was shining. Ancient oaks bordered the path, daisies dotting the lush green grass beneath the old trees, a change from the ice-covered grounds along the path from Emprise Du Lion. After a few minutes, the copse opened up and she halted when she saw a clearing full of Royal Elfroot, Dawnstone, and apple trees.
"Let's take a quick break," she said and heard mumbles of approval throughout the little group. "But before we leave, I want everyone to gather Royal Elfroot and Dawnstone." She then turned to the five scouts who were holding the reins to their horses. "You five can feed the horses apples from those trees over there. I'll fill my canteen and anyone else's at that river we just passed."
The group nodded and a few of them handed her their empty canteens before they dispersed. The scouts went to the apple trees with the horses while Bull went to sit beneath a tree with Varric while Cullen began collecting Dawnstone. Ember strapped the canteens to her belt before heading back the way they'd came.
After a few minutes she pushed through the brush and worked her way down the cliff overlooking the river to get to the river's edge. Once there, she filled the canteens with cool water from the river. She found herself not in a hurry to get back to the group. Ignoring Cole took a lot out of her.
Ember dropped the canteens to the group and leaned her back against the trunk of a tree on the riverbank. She crossed her arms over her chest and watched the water. The river here was in no hurry. No roar, no raging currents, just a wide bend and a grassy bank. The water was clear and the only place for fish to hide was among the water-crowfoot.
A breeze rustled the leaves on the willow she was leaning against. She suddenly felt his eyes on her, and the connection between them was as strong as it had ever been. She could feel those eyes boring into her and the heat rising from his body, and they were more than ten feet apart.
He came to stand only a few feet in front of her. She continued to stare at the river but inhaled a short, sharp breath and held it as she waited for him to say something. Anything. The intensity of his stare was so strong she could feel it under her skin, calling awake the yearning inside her.
"Do you ever take off your armor and talk to it?" The sound of his voice made her shiver deep inside.
"No," she answered, a small smile tilting her lips.
"It might say something nice."
She watched a fish swim to the surface of the water and eat a water strider. "Do you talk to yours?"
"Sometimes. It doesn't like holes," he said.
She laughed lightly and could almost feel those intense eyes watching her mouth as the sound escaped.
"Can you do that again?" he asked, his voice low and desperate sounding.
She blinked. "Do what?"
"Laugh like that. I really like it," he said with a nervous pause. "I like what it does to me."
For an intense moment neither of them moved. The space between them was filled with a tension so acute she could almost feel it, like a vibration. Her thoughts were random and nebulous, but eventually they merged and came into sharp focus around the night she'd taken him inside of her. For the past week she'd tried to put that night out of her mind, which was like trying to pretend she wasn't alive.
Say something, she ordered herself frantically, afraid he knew where her thoughts had strayed and would disappear. But it was difficult to think, let alone talk, when he was looking at her like that. There was something akin to buried hunger in that singular focus of his.
She loved it when he looked at her like that. She loved how it made her feel, like she was the only thing in the world worth looking at, how she could see in those hypnotizing blues all the things he couldn't say. But she wanted him to do more than just look, more than just watch her every movement, like a man starved.
She cleared her throat. "Cole… I wanted to tell you that-"
She stopped talking mid-sentence when he disappeared and reappeared right in front of her. Cole narrowed his eyes at her, a hardness on his features as he studied the gash the behemoth had caused that split her eyebrow, caked with dried blood.
"You were slow today. You have many hurts." His voice was despairing and angry, matching his expression. "Please be faster."
Ember felt a sickening lurch in her stomach. For a moment she'd thought he would… but it didn't matter. He wasn't ready to give her what she wanted, and she hated the fear that she couldn't shake that said he never would. She didn't like how it felt like all the good moments she'd had with him were now over. That anything they had up to this point was over. That his distance wasn't about giving him time to grow, but a shutting her out of his life entirely.
Despair and annoyance flared deep inside her. Ember focused her eyes tenaciously on the river to the right of Cole's shoulder, but his attention remained entirely on her. She felt his gaze on her now, the weight of it like a stone.
"Why do you care?" she muttered, making no effort to mask the hurt in her voice, the sound of it brittle and bitter. "From the way you've been acting lately I bet you wouldn't even miss me if something happened to me."
Before she drew her next breath, Cole was leaning into her, making her back arch into the tree bark. He was practically on top of her and she had to crane her neck back to be able to look up at him. Her breath hitched at the severe look on his face as he stared down at her.
"I am a demon." He was so close the last word he said caused the curls framing her face to flutter with his breath. "I'd unleash all of the Fade on someone if anything happened to you."
He pointed to the cut on her eyebrow and spoke with gravel in his voice. "Seeing this…" Eyes of melted ice flitted back and forth between hers. "It… it hurts me. Like feeling the drag of a blade across my skin, but… more pain."
He stared into her eyes for what seemed a timeless moment. Then, she watched his eyelids lower, a faint flush seep across his cheekbones, his expression becoming hot and soft all at once. His regard was tender with longing, yet raw with hunger, as his gaze roamed her face before sweeping down her body in an almost predatory manner. All the breath seemed to leave her and her heart began to pound.
He knew everything. He knew every dip and curve, every scar and imperfection of her body. He knew her every dream, fear, and deepest confession despite not being able to hear her feelings.
His eyes dragged slowly up her body until they locked with hers again. He lowered his head until the edges of his shaggy hair brushed her forehead, soft strands feeling like teasing caresses. Heat flared through her, causing a throbbing inside her, low but unmistakable, making her mouth go dry and her pulse begin to speed up. He didn't stop until his face was so close to hers their noses brushed. She could feel his breath on her face every time he exhaled, which was coming faster and deeper. There was scant space between them, his body nearly pressed against hers, his heat slipping inside her skin, teasing her with memories of what it felt like to be enveloped in his embrace, that hot, hard body pressed along every inch of her, slick with sweat from making her his.
"Dear heart," he uttered, painfully, as if he was remembering too.
Never in all her life had she ever wanted something as much as she wanted him to touch her right then. He had to touch her. She wanted it so bad it physically hurt. The walls of her chest felt as if they were closing in on her heart, in desperate need of relief.
His expression was full of conflict, as though he were waging an internal war within himself over something. She could do nothing but watch him try to fight the war within himself. But then his expression shifted to something akin to defeat.
She saw the roll of his throat as he swallowed before he moved his hand closer to her and his fingertips brushed hers. She heard a small sigh crossed with a groan escape his lips the moment his skin touched hers. There was so much torment laced with relief in that single sound.
Maker help her, this felt so good. His breath falling hot and heavy against her face felt good, his closeness felt good, his skin on hers made her feel an overwhelming feeling of completeness, and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out how something that felt like this could be so wrong to him.
She swallowed, trying to hold back the onslaught of emotions threatening to overtake her. "It's been so hard seeing you and not being able to touch you," she confessed, her tone softened by the sweeping relief she felt of having him touching her. "I'm trying to be patient and understanding, but it's been hell. It's been so easy for you to keep distance between us. But it hasn't been easy for me. It's all I think about. I can't take it anymore. I feel like I'm going crazy."
"You think this is easy for me?" he grated.
Because she found it hard to breath, her voice came out in a whisper. "Well, that's how you make it seem."
But even as she said the words she knew they were wrong because his expression was such a jumbled mixture of pain, sadness, and sorrow that it was heartbreaking to look at. He was roiling inside, and she was the cause of it. The realization hit her in a wave of despondency.
"I'm sorry," she whispered softly.
Those haunted eyes locked with hers, and she'd never seen more emotions flash through them than in that moment. "I'm sorry, too. For everything."
Before she could say another word, his features seemed to tighten and close off from her into stoniness. She hated that look. She didn't want him to regret touching her.
Cole stood straight and stepped back from her, his fingers falling away from hers, taking his touch and her breath with him.
A crushing feeling of rejection hit her. For a moment, it had felt like they were back where they belonged. Now, seconds later, there was that dreaded arm's length between them. It made her feel like weeping.
Her emotions must've shown on her face because Cole's eyes were searching hers frantically, desperately trying to get across whatever it was he wished he could say. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but then he closed it again. He looked torn to pieces by misery and it made her hurt for him. Seeing him torn like this was more pain than she was willing to endure. She wanted to mend him, to heal his hurt just like he always did hers and everyone else's.
Her voice cracked and broke when she spoke, "Spirit, demon, human, ghost… it doesn't matter. You're Cole. Just Cole." She gave him a watery smile. "My Cole." She paused, drawing in a sharp breath. "We can make this work. I know we can. If you'd only just let us."
Ember forced herself to turn away and collect the canteens on the ground. She stood and felt his eyes follow her as she moved past him quickly, moving as fast as she could without running until she returned to the others. She didn't want Cole to see what his continued rejection and distance was doing to her.
"Let's head out," she said, and even to her ears she sounded depressed.
The Inquisitor silently moved ahead of them to return to the path that would lead them to Skyhold. A half hour later and Cullen had replaced Ember as the head of the group, while Ember had fallen back to trail behind. Her spirits were so low they resembled more of a walking corpse. At the front the Commander was speaking to Varric. The scouts pulling the horses were right behind them, and then Cole. Pulling the rear was Ember and Bull. But Bull had obviously grown tired of her foul mood because he rushed forward to walk alongside Cole.
"So Cole, you're polite, you're good in a fight, and your heart's in the right place," Bull said pleasantly to the rogue walking beside him.
"It is? Good."
Bull laughed and then smirked wickedly at Cole. "I've got a plan. I think this could get you sorted out, get both feet on the ground."
Cole's head turned to look up at the Qunari. "I have to lift my feet, or the rocks make noise when I walk."
Bull chuckled, his eye gleaming mischievously. "Yes… when we get back, you're going to spend an evening with a nice lady named Candy."
Ember's red head snapped up to stare at Bull's back, her heart tightening into a fist. Candy? Her throat worked against the lump that had lodged itself painfully in her airway and she studiously ignored the lance of pain that shot into her heart as thoughts tumbled through her mind unchecked.
"Can I lift my feet?" Cole asked.
"She's gonna lift a lot more than that," Bull replied impishly.
Ember drew in a stuttered gasp, her insides tightening even more. Her mouth was too dry. Her chest too constricted. An ugliness reared up inside her. Swelled around her body like a dark compressing mass. Bull was going to take Cole to a whore! A whore!
Ember considered herself a tolerant person, yet the thought of some floozy all over Cole made her livid. The more she thought about it, the more emotions seemed to flit through her mind, harassing her with angry, murderous, and self-deprecating thoughts. She tried to suppress them as best she could, but still some crept in. Jealous murmurs caressed and cut, filling her head with imagined scenarios that made her clench the hilts of her daggers until her fingers ached, though she didn't remember unsheathing her daggers in the first place.
Maker's breath! She'd never been so angry and jealous as she was in that moment. Candy? Candy?! Really? What kind of a name was Candy anyway?
What kind of a name is Ember? A tiny voice jeered in her head.
Ember frowned. Cole liked candy. It was one of the few things he ate. Maybe he'd like a woman named after a tasty, delicious treat as opposed to one named after a burning piece of coal.
A calmness washed over her, lapping against her like soothing waves. Within minutes she felt a sense of ease settling over the jagged thorns of jealousy inside her like a blanket. Ember quickly shook herself. Why was she letting this get to her? Cole wouldn't see a whore. What had she been thinking? She had nothing to worry about. It's not like he would actually have sex with a whor-
"Alright," Cole answered Bull casually.
Her breath left her in a rush. He couldn't have hurt her more if he'd taken a knife to her body. Ember's legs turned to stone and she stopped walking, though the others didn't even notice. She stared at the ground in front of her, her vision blurred, her fist clenched over her heart, as if she could ward off the searing pain that knotted her vitals.
Cole was going to have sex with another woman. Tonight.
Though her legs felt leaden, she forced herself to move forward. No one could see her like this. They would think there was something wrong. They might even want to know why. She had to appear normal. Tears began to well in her eyes, and she had to inhale a calming breath. Her mind blanked of everything but two words, which she chanted internally like a deranged, hysterical mantra.
Don't cry.
Don't cry.
Don't cry.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"You know," Bull scowled as he stared at her in the middle of the training grounds at Skyhold. "If you're not going to put up a fight, I might as well go and get Cassandra to hit me with a stick."
Running an arm across her forehead, Ember openly glared back at the massive Qunari, furious with him for setting Cole up with a whore. But she needed to fight to work through the jealousy boiling within her, and if she had to hit anyone she wanted it to be him.
"What's that suppose to mean?" she snapped.
Bull crossed his arms over his broad chest. "You're off today. What's bothering you, boss?"
Wanting to hit him over and over again for what he did, her fist quickly flew towards him causing him to stumble back in order to avoid the hit.
Grinning, Bull lifted his hands back into a fighting stance. "You don't have to have a hissy-fit about it. I'm just curious."
Ember dodged his uppercut and spun from his jab, but a moment later and Bull landed a hard hit to her jaw.
Bull shook his head with disappointment. "Okay, seriously, what's bothering you, boss?"
"Nothing's bothering me," she gritted as a warning to drop the subject.
Bull moved quick and landed a devastating blow to her cheek. She staggered back. Bull swung a fist in her direction. She leaned back, causing him to hit only air, then moved in with a jab. Bull easily avoided the halfhearted punch with a frustrated growl.
"Enough!" Bull shouted, annoyed. "I don't know what's twisting your panties, but get it together!"
She spat blood out of her mouth and marched up to him, glaring. "What's your problem?!"
He gestured furiously with his hand. "You keep hesitating and you're about a half-second slow in all your moves. What's bothering you?"
"There's nothing," she snapped. "Drop it already."
His eye rolled. "Whatever."
Ember cursed under her breath and began circling around the gigantic Tal-Vashoth, feinting a couple of times. Bull struck out with a fist, but she evaded. Bull came at her, his fists connecting with her body in a flurry of blows. Ember kept her elbows in tight to her body to protect her sides, but that left her face free. Bull took the opening and his fist landed hard against her cheek, sending her flying across the training grounds. She hit the ground hard, her body skidding to a halt in the dirt. She winced, her face and ribs aching.
Bull sighed as he approached her. "Can you walk, boss?" Bull asked standing over her, offering her his hand.
"Since I was two," she grumbled as she took his proffered hand and pulled herself to her feet. She sagged a little, and Bull steadied her.
"So, who is it?" he asked gently.
She wiped the blood from her lip. "What do you mean?"
"The one that's on your mind," he clarified. "The one who has you so distracted."
She remained silent. No one needed to know that Cole had rented a space inside her head and in her heart. And there he would always remain.
"It's me, isn't it?" Bull sighed, as if everything made sense now. "You should have just come right out and admitted it. I could have had you in my bed this entire time, giving you the greatest lay of your life."
She glowered at him. "No way in hell."
He smirked. "Oh, come on. It'd be fun. We both could use a good screw right about now."
"I don't want to sleep with you."
Bull's smirk deepened. "You wouldn't be doing any sleeping. Not while I was around."
Her eyes rolled. "Pass."
Something over her shoulder caught Bull's attention. "Catch ya later, boss. I gotta go get the Kid laid."
The Qunari rushed passed her, but his words were an icy weight that had dropped like a stone into her stomach. Her limbs felt weighed down and uncoordinated, as though her neurons had frazzled and the entirety of her system was shutting down.
Moments later and Ember was stealthily following behind the massive Qunari as he steered Cole across the grounds of Skyhold. The sun was nearly set now, the encroaching darkness making it easier for her to remain hidden.
Bull and Cole turned a corner, heading toward the stables. Ember walked behind them on the balls of her feet, making no sound as she did so. They turned sharply to the right to come to a stop in front of a door. Ember's eyes widened and she did the only thing that made sense to her. The Inquisitor immediately ducked behind the nearest something, not wanting to be caught snooping, feeling extremely self-conscious and flustered.
"Would you like to see my sale on daggers today, Inquisitor?" Bonny Sims questioned in her thick Orlesian accent.
Ember looked up at her from where she was squatted down and hidden behind the stall, and whispered, "Umm, yes… wait, no. No that's alright, I'll… uhh, just keep looking at this… ugh… hat."
Bonny's mask-covered face tilted in question as Ember absently tried on the hat, her eyes never leaving Bull who was knocking on the door with Cole standing beside him.
"That is a duster, Inquisitor. I use it to clean the stall."
Ember blushed, realizing she was wearing that duster on her head like a hat. "Oh… well, it's, uhh, very lovely. For a, umm, duster."
Embarrassed, Ember put the duster down and cautiously peeked out from behind the stall to see the door swing open to reveal a stunningly gorgeous brunette with a voluptuous feminine figure, chocolate brown eyes, and a full pouty mouth.
A sense of anxiety flooded through Ember's veins, tensing her muscles, as she watched the woman ignore Bull completely as he spoke to her in a voice that Ember couldn't hear, those brown eyes running slowly over every inch of Cole's body, as if she were planning on having him for dinner.
Ember swallowed, and rubbed her sweaty palms up and down the sides of her pants as she watched the woman, who had to be Candy, step into Cole and lean against him in the most intimate way, her full lips forming words that Ember knew were charming and seductive.
Ember remained squatted down behind the stall, absolutely still, unable to tear her eyes from the scene unfolding before her. Candy's hand lifted and splayed flat on Cole's chest and a poison-like sensation of jealousy carved a path straight to her heart. The Inquisitor instantly wanted to cut that hand from her body.
The woman's hand closed on the material of Cole's armor and then she was dragging him into what had to be her bedroom, closing the door behind them. Bull just laughed before walking away, while Ember's world crashed to dust at her feet.
A knife of jealousy ripped through her as she stared at the closed door. The fierceness of her jealousy frightened her. She'd never known an emotion to poison her this way. She didn't understand. She didn't understand why he was doing this. Did Cole just not understand that when you were in a relationship with someone you didn't sleep with other people? But that made her think about whether they were in a relationship or not. Maybe he didn't think so. Maybe that's why he could sleep with someone else. Maybe with her he learned that he liked something, but just didn't want to have it with her again. Maybe he just wanted someone else, see what it was like with someone different.
With an odd hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach, Ember's head rolled to the side and she shut her eyes tightly. There was no doubt in her mind what they were doing behind that closed door. She wanted to stop it. She wanted to kick the door down and drag him back to her room. But what good would that do? She would just embarrass herself, especially if he wanted to be there, which he obviously did. Who was she to stop him from being with someone else? They'd never talked about exclusivity, though for the life of her she never thought they needed that conversation, not when it was so clear that they were meant to be together. Maybe it was just clear to her. Maybe she was imagining things, seeing only what she wanted to see.
She closed her eyes tighter as a deep melancholy settled over her. A tear rolled down her face, and she swiped at it angrily. She numbly pushed the pain down to where she could function. It was simply too fresh to deal with properly right now.
She stood and took a few halting, unsteady steps backward, the iron-cold reality of the situation making her head swim. She spun on the balls of her feet, red curls whipping about her face as she twisted around so quickly the world blurred.
Somehow she found her way to her horse, Tadwinks. The moment she escaped Skyhold, Ember bent low over the mare's white neck, her bright red curls streaming like fire behind her as she tore across the snow-covered fields that surrounded Skyhold, not sure when she'd return.