The wedding venue is booked and now I have….8 months to put a wedding together. It's apparently full swing time for wedding stuff. OH GOD WEDDING STUFF!
If my updates are few and far between it may mean that I've finally lost my mind and succumbed to wedding madness. If I do, I want you all to tell Cullen that I loved him the most.
He pressed his lips against hers a gentle kiss against her lips, Cullen had finally lost himself in the moment. He remembered what she had told him that while ago, that he was only a man, that a man had needs. In this moment he could feel his need set aflame by the gentleness of his kiss. It had felt so long since he's been this close. Duty always coming first before personal needs, such was the duty of any Templar.
But she was an enigma to him, always shutting herself off from him or tempting him like some desire demon. He had no idea which was the real her, the strong leader that lead the missions? The wanton temptress that tried to lead him astray? Or the reclusive violent woman that hid beneath those mage robes? He didn't know how many sides she had, or what it was that he wanted to see. But her body remained rigid and surprised by his actions. Her lips unresponsive and her hands frozen from shock.
Cullens hands moved into her hair, feeling the brown tresses between his fingers. How they curled in his touch, he was enthralled by her hair, how she kept it swept to one side, leaving her neck exposed to both the elements and his gaze.
Cullen felt himself pour everything that he felt pent up into his kiss, trying to remain gentle. She felt like the clawing of lyrium in the back of his mind. How her magic could feel against someones soul, only igniting their ache and need. How he needed her, like he needed lyrium, fearful that he would drown in that need. But not willing to stop himself from succumbing to it.
Cullen could feel himself lose faith, and began to become self conscious, fearing that he had stepped over a line. His hands wished to grasp more, to pull her close and never let her go. But he could feel her body remain frozen like a statue. He knew that he had done something that perhaps he shouldn't have done.
He pulled away slowly, breathing out in the awkward silence that fell between them, " I'm...I'm sorry I…" He couldn't think of anything to say anymore, his words failed him miserably as he tried to grasp for something.
He shook his head, finding the ground suddenly interesting, " I'm sorry…" Was all that he could mutter from his lips as he wished to flee and hide in a hole somewhere. Maker he took advantage of this situation, oh he felt like an idiot.
" Don't Commander." He looked up at the woman in front of him, her fingers touching her lips. " Don't feel sorry. I know...I know you feel guilty. But you did what you thought was right." She turned away, her feet kicking at the snow bank, " I understand that you were trying to help…" Her voice seemed to trail off as she began to mutter to herself, snow flying in all directions.
" Anara?" He didn't know what she was thinking anymore, the idea of it worried him. Perhaps she was trying to think things out in her mind, maybe she had just wandered out somewhere. His hand reached out to touch her shoulder, " Are you alright?"
She turned around, nodding as she looked at him, "Yes, yes..I..Commander" She sighed, her hands going down to her sides as she looked at him, " I must commend you Commander, you are a man of…" Her mind struggled with the words as she tried to pull something from her noble roots. " Ideals? " She looked at him, a look of confusion in her choice of words. "Yes….Ideals.." It had seemed she was not as well versed as she originally thought.
" You have, stayed true to yourself Commander, regardless of what I do. But do not feel that you have taken advantage of my grief. I promise that you have not." She sighed again, resigning herself to her decisions. "I will go to Val Royeaux. Please tell Cassandra that I do not need to be watched now. I am not possessed, I'm not channeling Andraste and I'm not a Maleficarum. " She tried to shrug off his kiss, and move past it onto other things, trying to help him push it from his mind. Cullen became confused by her temperament, needlessly chalking it up to her grief. He nodded simply, wishing to retreat and hide from the world in case a little bird heard or saw something.
He had turned his back, feeling some heat come across his cheeks as he remembered how he made an ass of himself. "Commander.." He heard her speak, he debated in his mind if he should turn or stop. He decided to avoid letting her see him embarrassed as he stood still, " I am no Herald.." Cullen turned his head, looking back at Anara as she stood there, her eyes looking up at the Breach.
" It is not what you want, or what you think Anara, it is what they need and they need you. We need you."
With that he left her to dwell upon those words of wisdom as he walked away, leaving back for Haven and hopefully to nothing new in his life of surprise.
Cassandra met him at the gate as soon as he stepped through, " Where is the herald?" her voice more demanding than usual, " We NEED to go to Val Royeaux. We must meet with the Chantry."
Cullen stopped her from continuing, " I know, as does she. She will go to Val Royeaux, lady Cassandra but it will be in her time. "
Cassandra clenched her jaw, the grimace coming back to her face as she heard the Commander, "In her time!? Each day she stays out there sequestered is another day that the Mages and Templar's fight!"
He held up his hands in defense against her, "She will go Cassandra, certainly you can understand her grief."
Her face flushed pale at his words, her grimace turning to surprise and then back to anger. Cassandra had nothing more to say to Cullen as she turned her back, leaving him to his words.
"Well, that was a surprise. You spoke the truth to her Curly, and it seems she wasn't expecting that." Varric stood there, his back braced against the wall with his arms crossed. " It seems like you're not completely without a spine." Varric chuckled hitting the Commander on the arm, " Come on, you deserve a drink!"
Cullen shook his head respectfully, " Sorry Varric, I don't have the time right now. There are preparations."
Varric scoffed, "Curly, do you ever stop working?" The dwarf walked away, shaking his head to the Commander as he waved back at Cullen, not bothering to look behind him.
Cullen thought to himself that this was perhaps how Varric lived his life. Waving back on the distant past without bothering to look back on it. Cullen could see that there was a simplicity about it, and perhaps a sense of loneliness as well. Cullen didn't envy that in Varric's life, for there were certain things to remind us where we came from, and what we've learned.
He made his way through the town, stopping to ensure that his men had followed procedures since he left. Their swings were stronger, but their aim was off still and their blocks were just awful. He groaned as a soldier hit the metal links of another's chain mail, it seemed no one learned how to dodge since he left.
He saw Solas out the corner of his eye, pacing uncontrollably around Adans. He wondered what was making the elf nervous, could he sense her grief? Her shock and disbelief? Did he know what he did? Could he sense that?
He could feel his chest tighten as he remembered the embarrassment that he felt after his awkward and stumbling kiss. He felt the cool leather of his gloves pressed against his face as he tried to suppress his agitation. Thinking about it wasn't helping, but he knew standing here would do no good for either him or for Solas in the distance.
Cullen sighed heavily as his shoulders sank. He couldn't stand the sight of the elf pacing about like a caged animal. His feet headed towards the elf, standing in the distance. He assured himself that this had nothing to do with him, that Solas couldn't know that much.
He didn't have to say anything but was met instead with Solas's panicked words, "Commander, do you have news? I could feel that Anara was distressed, but I can't bring myself to go to her." Solas looked down at the ground, his eyes sensing
Cullen nodded understanding his predicament, " She is better Solas, I promise." He could sense the elf settle down as his body relaxed back to his normal self. Solas was connected to her beyond a reason of doubt. Something that he figured that only a mage could connect with another mage. But it was a connection that he felt jealous of and wished for himself.
He could connect with Cassandra, but only through a sense of duty. Leliana he knew from the blight, but had no connection with her outside of acquaintances. Josephine was too wrapped up in her politics to be seen as any interest to Cullens fight first then ask questions approach. He felt himself lost in a sea of people, and the only ones that could see him were already tauntingly together.
He looked over Solas, trying to understand why she prefered him. They were both mages, but their personalities so different. She was heated with her words and opinions, obvious in her intentions and sometimes her thoughts. She was like the sun in the sky, giving warmth and projecting onto all those around her. But if her emotions got out of hand she could burn them all alive. That was something that Cullen knew Cassandra feared with the mage. She was confined in her beginnings, meek and noble. She wore her pride like an armor impenetrable to those around her.
Solas was cold and calculated, imposing knowledge upon all those that would listen. He spoke of spirits and of the fade, rarely showing his true colors expect in private. Anara seemed to be the catalyst in his feelings, and his true expression. But he was different than her, only rivaling with her in passion and need. But he knew what people would always say, opposites attract.
Cullen looked to the elf, who was smiling to himself. " Thank you Commander." He said as he looked up from the ground, " Thank you for bringing Ma Vhenan back."
He looked confused at Solas, his words foreign to him, he didn't understand elvish, but he felt the words were sentimental. He had wondered what it was that Solas knew that he didn't. But whatever he felt and he knew, Cullen knew it was between Anara and Solas only.
He gave a nod, accepting Solas's words as he turned back, wanting to return to his preparations. Val Royeaux wasn't going to just be there, and the herald wouldn't want to go without back up. He had to train the troops, and they had to learn at some point how to dodge.
The sun had set and the night began to quicken. It's darkness reaching across the sky like morbid tendrils. The night was colder than normal, the air threatening snow as the clouds filled the air. Cullen stood there in front of the fire, watching as his men gathered for warmth. This kind of darkness was never a good omen in Cullen's mind. But he had faith in The Maker, In Andraste and in The Herald. He knew she would show up, and he knew that she would heed his words.
The night stretched on as he heard song coming from the nearby tavern. The inquisition felt it best to liven the spirits of those around with drink and song. He felt he could understand suddenly, the bitter cold of the mountains were a reminder of life in Ferelden. Warmth and joy were few and far between in the harsh land, but when it was found it felt like there was no end.
Cullen stood over his small encampment watching as his men retired to their rooms and cots. Calling in for the long night of winter, his arms braced him as he huddled for warmth with the fire. His arms crossed as he tried to pull his fur lined collar higher, trying to block the cold.
He had heard the gate open, as an echo came through the town, "The Herald." He had heard, "The Herald returns!"
He heard the voices usher as bodies began to stir from their slumber. Cassandra walked from her tent, looking around, "Is she back?" She turned her attention to Cullen who could only looking questionably at her.
Torches came to life, the fires licking the air as people began to gather. Hearing the words spread through the town, "The Herald is back." Cullen had heard as he moved slowly through the town. The people's once fear of the woman sated as she returned through the gates, bags in tow and staff in hand as she stood there among the people.
Cullen was glad that she had taken his advice, had thought on his words and made her decision to come back. Her absence was well noted, and had worried many in the town. But she had stood there, feeling the pat on the back from the blacksmith and smiling down at the dwarves snide comments. Perhaps now she had left her grief pass, if only for a moment. He watched as her eyes passed over the flocks of people shouting for the Herald of Andraste. Her eyes met with his for a moment as she lowered her eyes and gently nodded her head. Cullen was glad that she acknowledged what he had done. Even if the beginning was not the best start, he was glad something came from it after all.
Her eyes ran back over people as she looked at Solas, standing off in the distance, separating himself physically. She gave a weak smile, trying not to give her intentions and affections away to those around her.
She hid her affection for Solas, who in turn walked away from the group that welcomed the Herald back into the flock. He had seen her and knew she was in capable hands, and that was enough of her attention for now.
Anara turned her eyes away from the elf's back as he walked off. Her eyes now searching through the crowd, seeking out another. There she had found her, Cassandra standing over the group at the top of the crest that overlooked the gate. Her arms crossed over her chest as she looked over them. Trying to decide if she was disapproving or not, she knew now what Cullen had meant in his words and the wisdom behind it.
"Seeker!" She shouted over the crowd as the noise died down. Eyes turning to Cassandra in response to her words.
"Herald." She spoke back, her head nodding to her words.
" We ride for Val Royeaux!" Cassandra could feel the weight from her chest fall as she heard those words, her arms uncrossing as she nodded, gladly going with the Heralds decision.
"Finally.." She muttered under her breath, thanking the Maker that she had finally made her mind, and that her time had come to make it.
The night continued on as Cassandra turned from the people gathered, making her way to the war room with the advisers in tow. They had to be sure that this was the right step.
Val Royeaux, the heart of the Orlesian empire and perhaps the last place she wanted to be.
She stood there with her group to her back as she looked at the ornate walls, and gilded lions. She could feel a grimace pulling on her lips as she looked at what stood in front of her. "Olresian's…" She muttered to herself, remembering her home of Ostwick.
The Tevinter Imperium may have taken over parts of the Free Marches and left their….taste on architecture. But she never understood why everything had to be gold plated and marble it all felt to...Ornate, like it'd fall apart in the wind or melt like sugar cubes in the rain. Unknowingly she cocked an eyebrow at the place, trying to force her squeamishness down. She slowly looked over herself, looking down at the muddy and previously blood stained mage garb and coat. Josephine suggested she wear something more...Orlesian. But she wasn't trying to win over the nobles. Only the Chantry.
She turned back at the group, Varric only shrugged at her, understanding her trepidation. Solas looked just as uncomfortable, knowing how well the Orlesian's treated Elves. Even though Solas never considered himself a Dalish or a city elf, he knew they wouldn't see past his ears.
Cassandra just stood there, her head held high as she looked at the gates. It looked like she had been here before, she was the right hand of the divine after all...It'd make sense as to why she was guarded and prepared for the onslaught that The Chantry could provide.
Anara let out an exasperated groan as she stepped forward, knowing full well that this was the last place she wanted to be.
The bells tolled in the background, like an endless siren of constant reminder, "The city still mourns." Cassandra spoke as they walked forward towards people that walked the cities bridge.
Anara looked across the waters at the statues that littered the waters, all telling of Andraste until her eyes met with a woman. A gasp coming from her lips as she made a panicked noise. Pulling herself from distance with her. She shuffled, trying to step out of their path.
" Just a guess Seeker. But I think they all know who we are." Varric spoke, as the woman fled from them. As if they had somehow offended her very nature.
"Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric."
Anara threw her head back in frustration, trying her best not to roll her eyes in annoyance. Sometimes she wished they would kiss and make up or something, but this CONSTANT arguing made married couples look tame.
Anara turned her attention back to the city, only a few steps in and they were stopped by a scout. The look on her face didn't spell the best situation ahead. "My lady herald." She got down on one knee as Cassandra looked her over.
"You're one of Leliana's people. What have you found?" Cassandra spoke in her usual authoritative manner.
"The Chantry mothers await you, but….So do a great many Templar's." Anara felt herself internally groan. Not Templar's….
"There are Templar's here?" Cassandra seemed shocked, very few if any Templar's remained loyal to The Chantry after the rebellion.
" People seem to think the Templar's will protect them from...From the inquisition.." Another groan went through her mind as she heard that, oh great. They're the bad guys now…
"They're gathering on the other side of the market. I think that's where they Templar's intend to meet you." She had stood up, willing to lead the Inquisition into Val Royeaux.
" Only one thing to do then." Cassandra spoke as she walked forward, unafraid and unapologetic to those who would question their motives.
The city was an homage to the life and trials of Andraste, it's foliage and gardens perfectly manicured. Anara walked through the gate that lead to the market, her eyes looking over what she could see. She had heard to tales of Val Royeaux when she was a child, and as she grew in the circle. The White Spire was located here, as was Empress Celene, but she felt foreign and alien to this area. Only knowing it through stories and pictures in books.
They walked into the market, people staring at them from all directions, people murmuring among themselves. Anara had heard stories about Orlais, but never expected to be here, as much as she fought it. Here she stood in Val Royeaux, surrounded by masks.
She felt a twinge of anxiousness as she looked out at the people, not a single one of them bare faces. All the masks ornate in colors and plumage. There was something unsettling about not being able to see the faces of those around you. Something that made the Orlesian Bard much more terrifying than an ordinary one. For an Orlesian Bard will stick you in the back, and you will rarely be able to differentiate them from the nobles that flooded the streets.
They looked through the crowd, seeing the priests from The Chantry rabble above the people on a platform demanding their attention.
"Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me!" Anara looked at the cleric that stood there, her thick Orlesian accent difficult for her to understand. " Together we mourn our Divine. Her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery.." Anara heard enough to know where this was going. She felt her shoulders slump as the cleric walked forward, her speech continuing. " you wonder what will become of her murderer. Well, wonder no more!"
Oh man, here it comes.
"Behold the so-called Herald of Andraste! Claiming to rise where our beloved fell." She felt as if she was a beacon for all eyes that suddenly turned to her, " We say this is a false prophet! The Maker would send no mage in our hour of need!"
The crowd began to rally behind her words, shouting and cursing, Varric turned to Anara giving her a look of, 'Well, shit.' Solas kept calm in midst of the calamity that surrounded them, and Cassandra kept her head high regardless.
Anara's annoyance was beginning to wear thin, but she was a Trevelyan, and The Herald by the people. She had to be better than what she felt, " You say that I am the enemy." She mustered as much diplomacy as she could find within herself, trying not to use violence as an answer.
'That is what they'd expect from a mage, you're better than that. ' She heard the voice of Solas in her head speak to her, helping her remain calm and collected in the midst of all this chaos. 'You are better Vhenan.'
She had calmed herself enough to continue speaking, " The breach in the sky is our true enemy. We must unite to stop it!"
Cassandra seemed better versed in this game than Anara, but in Val Royeaux her words would carry farther being the right hand after all. "It's true! The Inquisition seeks only to end the madness before it's too late!"
The crowd began to split down the middle in opinions. Those faithful to the Chantry continued their rabbling and cursing. Others began to murmur, doubt beginning to fill the people around them as they second guessed The Chantry, not knowing who to believe.
"It's already too late!" The cleric pointed at a group of Templar's that walked up on the platform, their armor ringing through the air as people gasped, talking among themselves. "The Templar's have returned to The Chantry! They will face this 'inquisition,' and the people will be safe once more!"
Anara could feel the power of the Templar's switch on, suppressing her and Solas's powers. Anara felt a panic run through her like a she was stranded in the middle of nowhere, or like a caged animal. She knew that this situation was bad, but she could feel the difference in the Templar's now.
The cleric cried out as she fell to the ground, a Templar punching her in response. People began to panic, she could sense it in the bodies of all those around her, even though she couldn't see their faces. She could hear the panic in their voices as they cried out against the Templar's. Anara felt uneasy looking at the older man, as he spoke to those still loyal to the Chantry, "Still yourself, she is beneath us."
She could feel his abilities strengthen and dominate those around her. No matter what her emotions Anara knew that there was no way to break his abilities. She felt as if she was being crushed slowly, her body heavy and lumbering against the feel as her magic suppressed.
Regardless of how much she despised the Chantry, she knew that there was no real reason to this mad display by the Templar's, "What is the meaning of this!?" She shouted, surprised by the sound of her voice as it echoed through the crowd, her anger showing through. 'Templar's' she thought, 'Bloody Templar's.'
The man turned to look at her, his eyes cold and unnerving, "Her claim to authority is an insult. Much like your own." She bit back her tongue, wishing to shout how she hated the idea of being a leader, of being The Herald. But she knew that there was no way to save the situation in regard to this.
Cassandra broke away, not realizing the situation that they were in, " Lord Seeker Lucius, It's imperative that we speak with-"
"You will NOT address me." He continued to walk, ignoring Cassandra as she tried to catch up with him.
"Lord Seeker?" She was confused now, wondering what was happening with the Templar's.
" Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste's Prophet. You should be ashamed." He came off as a disapproving father, scolding a child for misstepping. His cold eyes looked over them, seeking out into the crowd, "You should all be ashamed! The Templar's failed no one when they left The Chantry to purge the Mages!" His hand pointed out at Anara and Cassandra as they stood side by side. Cassandra taking his words too seriously, " You are the ones who have failed! You who'd leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear!"
Anara tried to cull her anger, to reel it in as she stared at the Templar. THIS is what she hated, when people were self righteous and full of themselves. She had been under the thumb of the Templar's all of her life, and this man, this lord seeker only seemed to remind her of her old Knight-Commander in Ostwick. His words stuck to her and made her feel dirty as she listened to him.
" If you came to appeal to The Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here the demands respect in mine." In that moment Anara had made her decision, 'To the void with this, the Templar's made their bed.'
But a voice in her head spoke of reason, she felt that it was Solas speaking to her, trying to reach through into her more noble and humble side. " Templar's, One of your own Commands the Inquisitions forces. Join us, as he did!"
She felt awkward throwing Cullen out there like that, using him as a reason to garner support.
" You're a mage! Your ties are worthless. They're all made traitors just by being in your company!" She felt herself step back, thinking to herself how low of a blow that was. She wanted to scream and to yell, to push through any and all Templar's powers and show them what a Mage's strength really was. But she felt the calming words of Solas in her head, trying to instill some calm in her, 'Vhenan, don't It's not worth it.'
One Templar questioned him, wondered if she was truly sent by The Maker, but was rebuffed by the man who assaulted the cleric. " You are called to a higher purpose! Do not question!" She didn't like the sounds of their self righteousness. How they seemed to find a higher purpose in killing other mages she didn't know. Most mages were cast out from the circles like she was, hoping to find purpose in the world that once abandoned her.
" I will make the Templar order a power that stand alone against the void. We deserve recognition. Independence!" He stood against them as if he was standing against the tide, " You have shown me nothing, and the inquisition….Less than nothing."
Anara looked at the man, trying to hide her anger and to keep her magic down as he continued on, " Templar's! Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! We march!"
She watched as they left the city, their backs to The Chantry and to it's people. Varric tried to make light of the situation as Cassandra tried to pick it apart. She spoke of the man that she once knew, but this man was different, different than what she remembered him as.
Anara didn't care about the man that Cassandra once knew but instead the man that they saw there right now. Regardless of what Cassandra thought, she knew that the Templar's were out of reach, and would no longer be an aid that they could rely on.
She wondered if he can be reasoned with, but in her mind she knew that the Lord Seeker was too far gone from the rest of the world. Cassandra spoke as she too watched the Templar's leave.
" We should first return to Haven, and inform the others."
Anara walked forward, hearing the sound of an arrow sticking into the ground. Cassandra shouted , "What's that? An arrow with a message?"
Anara crouched in front of the arrow, pulling the letter free. Looking at the strange cryptic message that was written. She stood up, Cassandra wondering what had happened, what she had read.
Anara turned to the group, looking them over as she held the letter up, taking one last look before she spoke, "It looks like we're not quite free from Val Royeaux just yet…."