26: Heroes (Part II)
"Before I came here, I was confused about this subject. Having listened to your lecture, I am still confused - but on a higher level."
― Enrico Fermi
The morning began promisingly. He'd gotten up before dawn, as was his habit, engaged in some grueling sparring practice with his soldiers, and felt clear headed and focused afterwards. He took his time washing up, shaving, and getting dressed and then had his usual hearty breakfast with some of his scouts before they departed on a week-long mission.
When he bounded into the War Room early, he expected to have time alone to examine some of the matters they would be discussing later that morning. He found his mind wandering to how things would be when Evelyn and he met again, but chased the thought away.
It's time for work, he told himself.
He was very surprised when Evelyn made an appearance in the room earlier than usual.
"Good morning, Cullen. I was hoping to find you here," she smiled, almost shyly.
Don't look up or give her the satisfaction of—
"Can we talk?" she asked, tilting her head.
He finally glanced up.
She looked lovely. She always did, he found. He loved the way loose wisps of hair framed her face, admired the graceful curve of her neck, recalled the sensation of her smooth and warm skin beneath his fingers…. and her soft, yielding lips…
He clenched his fists.
"Yes, good morning," he said brusquely. "I was getting ready for our meeting, but I can spare a few minutes," he cleared his throat, shuffling his papers into a neat pile.
"I've been thinking a lot about yesterday," she said quietly, approaching him.
He crossed his arms over his armor.
"Think nothing of it," he said dismissively.
She appeared a bit taken aback.
"No, no… I'd like to discuss it further with you. I feel like I owe you an apology for my unbecoming behavior."
He was overcome with tenderness for her downcast eyes, her hesitancy. Here was the woman who had walked the Fade, battled demons and abominations fearlessly, tumbled through time, struck fear in the hearts of the Venatori and Red Templars… And that remarkable woman had chosen to give her love to him, and him alone.
"Well, I am glad you admit how foolish you were acting," he stated in an uppity manner. "I think we can move on, now don't you think?"
He hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but he needed to counter the warm, soft feeling that she was inspiring in him.
After all, it had been her fault, he reasoned.
She had bristled at his tone.
"Yes… I feel there are things…Like, why your telling me about your dalliance with the Hero unsettled me…Those are things I need to share with you."
Varric might as well have been sitting on his shoulder, like a fiendish puppet.
There could be more to it. You shouldn't just dismiss it…his words from the previous night echoed in his head.
The door creaked and they saw Josephine enter the room.
"Oh, many apologies! Am I intruding?" she stated graciously. "I can come back in a bit, if you'd prefer. I just thought I'd prepare for the meeting…The courier just brought me a letter that isn't on the agenda and that we'll need to discuss."
"Not at all, Ambassador. We were done here," he stated quickly.
Evelyn looked up at him with a hurt expression; she seemed flustered by his words.
He hadn't meant to cut Evelyn off, but he certainly didn't want to give Josephine any reason to believe there was something wrong between them.
Work and personal life need to stay separate: there's a time and place for everything. He knew Evelyn understood that. He was truly glad she had apologized. She was a reasonable person, thankfully, he thought to himself, a faint smile spreading across his lips.
I am glad common sense and sanguine dispositions have prevailed in the end. As they should.
The meeting proceeded without a hitch. They'd gotten through an impressive amount of business, he realized, pleased.
For the last matter of business, Josephine drew out a letter from her small stack and brandished it at them.
"The mayor of Havenfell has asked for support in rebuilding their village."
"That's near Haven, isn't it?' Cassandra wondered.
"They suffered heavy damage and casualties when the rift first appeared…and during the attack on Haven," Josephine explained, turning the parchment around.
"They undoubtedly heard of the support we sent Redcliffe and hope we will do the same for them," Leliana frowned.
"Still: they offered our forces aid at a time when few did and the town is still a strategic location…Do we have the personnel to send out to assist them?" Evelyn asked, glancing around the table.
"It's not that, Inquisitor," Josephine continued. "They were actually able to secure assistance from the King and Queen. They took advantage of the King's reversing his ban on mages in Ferelden…They obtained their funding precisely because they were willing to extend an invitation to welcome returning mages."
"It is a good strategy," Cassandra concurred. "Havenfell is far enough from other main towns and villages and they get support in exchange for providing shelter to mages."
"If they already have assistance from the Crown, I don't understand what they want from the Inquisition," Evelyn puzzled.
"They are asking for two things," Josephine continued, more slowly as her eyes perused the document. "Until a decision is made regarding the Circles, they would like us to send guidance on how to work…safely…with the mages. They have heard of our compromise with the mages in Haven and Skyhold."
"Fair enough," Evelyn agreed. "We can train some of their soldiers in the same way we retrained our templars," she suggested. "Cassandra and Cullen, can you select a few of our templars to send?"
"Absolutely," Cassandra nodded along with Cullen.
"Now: the second request is that you, Evelyn, visit Havenfell in person."
Evelyn balked.
"Why?"
Josephine set down the letter.
"Don't underestimate the power and draw of your presence. The mayor reasoned that if the head of the Inquisition herself stops in Havenfell during her travels, then people shouldn't be afraid to go back: businesses, merchants…It's rather pointless to rebuild if no one wishes to return," Josephine concluded.
"Is it safe enough that we should be encouraging others to go?" she asked.
"I did a little research before our meeting and there are some reports of smaller rifts in the area…but nothing unusual." She rifled through her stack of parchments. "Like most rifts, activity is restricted to the immediate surroundings—the entities are dangerous, of course, but fortunately constrained to a small radius, since they constantly need to feed off the rift's energy…Perimeters have been set with relatively minor disruptions."
"I think this is a good opportunity for the Inquisition, Evelyn. By supporting Havenfell, you set the tone before negotiations on the future of Circles and the involvement with the Chantry begin. If people have a clear, successful example of an alternative to the traditional Circle model, it may impact future negotiations," Cassandra argued.
"Yes, but what do we know of this mayor?" Leliana warned. "We know very little about him. He wasn't mayor when Havenfell…erm…fell."
"That's because almost everyone in Havenfell was killed,' Cassandra replied sternly.
"What is your concern?" Josephine asked Leliana.
"I would like to make sure this mayor doesn't have any…connections that could harm or compromise the Inquisition. I wouldn't be adverse to your plan, Cassandra. But I need to check up on a few things before we can commit to anything."
"Morrigan?" Josephine asked. "Your vote?"
"I abstain," she said disinterestedly. "I don't know that you really need me here today," she yawned.
She turned to Cullen. "Commander? Your vote."
"I think that provided the mayor passes Leliana's scrutiny, it's a decent plan. It's draws good attention to our cause. If Evelyn makes a personal appearance, it is bound to encourage people in the area. People need to believe in someone, peg their hopes on a person who fights for them. The truth is," he said pointedly, "people need heroes; everyone loves a good hero. Don't we all? I know I do," he said, cluelessly.
Evelyn appeared crestfallen at his use of the word 'hero.'
"You love heroes?" she asked slowly, deliberately, emphasizing the word.
"Yes!" he interjected. "Since I was a young boy! Heroes are everything we idealize and aspire to."
Evelyn's face clouded and she pressed her lips together.
"So, Commander…what you are saying is that whatever fascination you felt when you were younger for…heroes…still endures?"
"If my faith in the good deeds of heroes were dimmed, I wouldn't be myself, I wouldn't fight for the things I willingly fight for," he explained.
Evelyn grasped the edge of the table, her knuckles white.
"Forgive me for saying so, but your affections seem rather misplaced."
Cullen crossed his arms again, standing imposingly over his corner of the table, completely oblivious to the fact his words could have a different interpretation than the meaning he'd intended them to have.
"Pardon?"
"It's an impossible ideal to live up to. You should consider that behind every tale of heroism is a person made of flesh and bone! I will grant you that heroes are remarkable people: selfless, dedicated, gifted…But at the end of the day, they are only human beings! They…they have their faults…their shortcomings…Just like any of us! It's unfair, Cullen. How can anyone live up to—" she began , but quickly fell silent at the completely befuddled stares she was getting from her other advisors.
"I don't know if I agree," Cullen said hotly. "What are you trying to prove? Heroes exist. They are extraordinary, you are right about that, and people are inspired by them! Look at you, Evelyn— you, yourself, are a hero in the people's eyes! You are a hero in a long tradition of heroes!"
He couldn't imagine how hard that particular line would make Varric and the others laugh later on.
She became livid.
"A long tradition?"
"Yes!" he cried.
"Just how long are we talking about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, Maker! Where do I begin!" He threw his hands up in frustration. "There are so many! You are going to make me list them all?"
She blinked at him slowly, completely disconcerted.
"So I am just another hero among many?" she asked fiercely. "Just another…story…to be told to others someday?"
"That is no small feat and nothing to be vexed by! Not everyone can become a hero, you know! You should be honored to count yourself among such illustrious company," he accused, still deaf to the double entendres.
That finally undid her.
"Well!" she said passionately, her eyes ablaze. "Aren't I fortunate! But forgive me, Commander, if I no longer wish to indulge the imaginations of…of foolish!…and…and infuriating young boys I never ever want to have anything to do with again!" she thundered so angrily that her skin gave off tiny webs of energy. "I relinquish my pedestal in that parthenon! I am through!"
"Young boys? What young boys?" Josephine asked nervously. "We don't have any young boys here— if we do, we shouldn't. We just signed a fair labor and trade law and we need to lead by example," Josephine panicked.
Leliana reached out and placed a placating hand on Josephine's arm while shaking her head. Their eyes were glued to the strange scene unfolding.
"You aren't quitting, are you?" Cassandra asked apprehensively, her brow furrowed.
"No!" Evelyn retorted, between clenched teeth. "I am not stepping down from my responsibilities. This is a different matter… between me and the Commander!"
"Good," she concluded. "I think... I do not know what is happening right now…" she admitted.
"How could you be so cavalier, so calloused, Cullen Stanton Rutherford!" she continued, her voice breaking slightly. "After everything…"
Cullen stared at her in silent alarm. He'd never seen her so upset before. He found himself at a complete loss, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He had no idea what had just transpired between them, but he knew it wasn't good.
She whirled around, marched towards the door, flung it open, and banged it shut behind her.
"Maker…what was that all about?" he said in complete bewilderment.
"If you don't know, how should we?" Cassandra asked crossly.
"There's something terribly familiar about this, isn't there?" Morrigan purred to Leliana. "Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose…"
"Cullen," Josephine interrupted with cautious amiability, "Is it possible at all that this is a situation similar to what happened at Halamshiral?…"
"What happened there?" Morrigan asked interestedly. "Other than mayhem?"
"He became involved in a conversation with the Viscountess de la Varonne thinking they were discussing the finger foods served and almost found himself betrothed to her youngest daughter…"
Cullen shuddered at the memory.
"Of course, I exaggerate," Jospehine proceded, "but our Commander is no Game player."
"Nor do I intend on becoming one! If I should have to suffer trying to decipher all the double talk—"
And then it hit him. The whole, large, malodorous misunderstanding in all its convoluted glory.
He let out a groan as he rubbed his face.
Morrigan grinned deviously.
"I was mistaken! This was a most interesting meeting, after all!"
Later that evening, sitting between Varric and Blackwall again, he dropped his head into his hands.
"Somehow, I made it worse," he bemoaned.
Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose= the more things change, the more they stay the same...