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A note summoned Bridget to Cullen's office the next morning, at an hour when he really shouldn't have been awake, after last night's card game.

Bridget, sadly, was also awake. Morning sickness was definitely affecting her sleep. She dressed and made her way down, stopping to pick up a cup of tea in the main hall. On second thought, she filled a tray with tea and scones, carrying it carefully across to Cullen's office.

"What's this? I didn't mean you to come with breakfast."

She smiled. "I find food problematic at the moment—too likely to come back up. So you'll be doing me a favor by forcing me to eat." Her eyes twinkled as she watched him think about protesting and then decide he couldn't.

"Very well. If you insist." He reached for a scone, spread clotted cream and jam on it, and it disappeared in what looked like a single bite.

"Have you called me down here to work out your revenge on Varric?" she asked.

"No, more likely to inform you that I am never playing cards again." Cullen closed his eyes and shook his head. "What an embarrassment."

"It's good for you. Sometimes people forget that you're human."

"Am I?" He looked down at his desk. "At any rate, that isn't actually what I called you here for."

"What is?"

"We have him, Inquisitor." He waved a paper at her. "We have found Samson's lair."

Bridget was on her feet immediately. "We have?"

"Yes." He unrolled the parchment for her and they looked it over together. "We can be there in a day."

"Then we should get started as soon as possible." She blanched as she realized what she had said. A day on horseback? Combat? It would be the first time since she had been aware of her pregnancy. But she pushed the concern aside. The mission to defeat Corypheus came ahead of everything—if he won, neither her child or any other would have a future. And Bridget was the only person who could defeat him. So that meant combat, and riding, and all of it.

Cullen was watching her closely. "Are you all right?"

"Fine. Let me go gather my team."

"Inquisitor."

"Yes?"

"I, uh … My duties usually keep me here at Skyhold, but … for Samson …"

"I think you should make an exception," she told him. Insofar as Cullen seemed to blame himself for whatever had made Samson join Corypheus in the first place, he should be there to take the man down. She smiled. "I look forward to fighting at your side."

She found Rainier in his barn. "Saddle up. We're on our way."

"Where?"

"We've found Samson's lair."

"So, I'll go, and you'll stay here."

Bridget shook her head. "It doesn't work that way."

"I can't let you risk yourself, risk her, like that."

"Oh, so now she's a her, is she?" Bridget smiled, taking his hands. "I'm the Inquisitor. I have to do this. Only my mark closes rifts, you know that. I promise to be very careful, to keep myself out of the thick of the fighting … but I can't just hide here in Skyhold. We have to believe that the miracle that created this child will also keep … her safe."

"Nothing will come near you," Thom said hoarsely. "Not a blade or an arrow or a spell. I promise it."

Bridget cupped his cheek tenderly. "I believe you."

They both knew it was likely not to be that simple, but she was willing to hope it could be.

The ride to Samson's lair took a bit longer than a day, especially given Rainier's coddling of Bridget on the journey, and when they arrived, Samson was long gone. He had left some lyrium-poisoned Templars behind him, but everything of importance appeared to have been cleared out.

Inside the building, red lyrium was growing from the walls and floors. It was a horrifying sight. Not quite the future Bridget had seen in Redcliffe, but on its way there.

Cullen went ahead of her, scowling as he surveyed the destruction created as Samson had gathered his men and left. A man wearing the sunburst brand of a Tranquil was seated near a monolith of some kind, and Cullen hurried toward him, Bridget close at his heels.

"Hello, Inquisitor. Knight-Captain."

"Maddox." Cullen knelt next to him, one hand on Maddox's shoulder, searching his face. "Something's wrong. I'll send for the healers—"

"That would be a waste, Knight-Captain Cullen. I drank my entire supply of blightcap essence. It won't be long now."

"We only wanted to ask you questions, Maddox," Bridget said gently.

"Yes. That is what I could not allow. 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?"

"Samson saved me even before he needed me. He gave me purpose again," Maddox told him. "I … wanted to … help …" His head slumped forward, and he was gone.

Cullen closed his eyes and shook his head at the waste of it all. "A dismal place to die. It can't have been much of a place to live, either, under Samson's command. If this is Samson's idea of remaking the world, I prefer yours."

"Is there anything else you remember about Samson? The man he used to be, I mean."

"Does it matter?" Cullen snapped. "'He used to be kind' only carries so far. Yet … Maddox died to help him escape. Samson does command loyalty." He looked at Bridget, his face closed and hard. "We should check the camp. Maddox may have missed something."

Not far from where Maddox lay, they found a large pile of bottles that had clearly once held red lyrium. All of them appeared to have been licked clean, as if every drop had been greedily consumed.

Cullen caught his breath sharply. "How much red lyrium is Samson taking? His resistance must be extraordinary." He bent and plucked a piece of parchment from the mouth of one of the bottles, shaking his head as he read it. "Samson left a message for me."

"What does it say?"

"'Drink enough lyrium, and its song reveals the truth. The Chantry used us. You're fighting the wrong battle. Corypheus chose me as his general, and his vessel of power' … and other such nonsense." Instinctively he crumpled the note in his fist, then remembered that it might provide clues if studied properly and smoothed it out again. "He's not wrong. The Chantry did use us. But … that's not the battle we're fighting. Does he think I'll understand him? What does he know?"

"Over here." They both turned to see Rainier beckoning to them. "Look at this. It looks like tools, and part of a forge. The fire couldn't destroy it entirely."

Cullen leaned over Rainier's shoulder, studying the surviving tools. "Tranquil often design their own tools, and Maddox was highly skilled. Let's take these back to Dagna and see what she makes of them."

"If Maddox used these to make Samson's armor, maybe she could use them to unmake it," Rainier suggested.

"Possibly. Or find a new way to fight it." Cullen looked at Bridget triumphantly. "We may have him, Inquisitor."

"Wonderful." She thought the two of them might be counting their chickens rather early—but Dagna was a bit of a miracle worker, and both of them knew more about the subject than Bridget did, so for the moment she would be cautiously optimistic that they were right.

Returning to the horses, they started back to Skyhold, Bridget relieved that from the standpoint of the pregnancy, the fighting had been minimal, especially for the information they'd gained.

"It's a pity Maddox thought sacrifice was the only answer," Cullen said softly as they rode together. "But Samson's now left with a severely curtailed army, now that we're destroying the red lyrium deposits there, and enchanted armor he can't maintain. A very good day's work. You did it."

She shook her head. "We both worked to make this happen. Don't sell yourself short."

"Well, I— Thank you. But my work's not done yet."

"I should hope not."

"We're getting recruits by the hour, according to Leliana's birds, with more than a few ex-Templars among them. We've struck a blow and given people hope. A true victory."

True victory, in Bridget's view, would come with defeating Samson, or Corypheus. But then, she had never been a strategist. For now, she would let Cullen have his moment, and worry about the rest of it tomorrow.