Chapter 23

The horses clattered to halt in the stable yard; Skyhold's familiar stone walls encircled them like the waiting arms of a lover. Elena looked around with a pleased smile on her face. It felt good to be home. She dismounted and bounced around to stand by Cullen's mount's shoulder while the commander got down. He turned to her and smiled as well. Elena giggled and wrapped her arms around him, burying herself against his chest roughly. He stumbled back a step before catching his balance.

"If I had known that bringing you back would elicit this type of reaction, I think I might have done it sooner." He teased gently prying her off of him. He turned and removed his saddle bags from his horse, shouldering them easily.

"It is nice to be home, isn't it?" She observed picking up her own saddle bags and following him as he moved away from her. Cullen nodded, watching the hostlers take the horses with a considerate eye. Elena turned her attention to them, too.

Cullen took her saddle bags from her and handed them off to a stable boy, "Send them to her rooms, please. Mine can go to my chambers as well." Cullen instructed handing off his bags as he did so, "Elena, you have been travelling all day. I won't have Varmont scolding me because you over-did it." His tone was kind but firm enough that Elena knew pressing the issue would be pointless. Plus, what did she have to gain from bickering with him? Best to pick your battles with care. She told herself as they left the stable yard.

"I don't know about you, but I am going to take a long, hot bath." She said, stretching as they walked.

Cullen looked down at her and quirked an eyebrow, "Not going to track down Reeves or Fabien?" Elena shook her head, "I should probably check the War Room before I attend to anything else." He looked off in the distance, "Though, if the Inquisitor isn't here, perhaps there is time for a bath. I'm sure no one wants to be in a room with me right now. I must smell terrible."

Elena snorted, "No more than you usually do." She teased lightly. Cullen rolled his eyes. "Anyway, will I see you for dinner?"

Cullen shrugged, "If the Council and other matters don't keep me too busy, yes." Cullen bent and placed a kiss on her cheek, "I'll see you later." He told her in parting.

XXX

Elena emerged from behind the changing screen in Skyhold's baths. It had been among the first rooms to be cleared out and refurbished. There were two rooms, one for the men and one for the women of the Inquisition, positioned on either side of a long hallway in the lower-most levels of Skyhold. The women's room was large and opens to the elements much like the Undercroft. There was a wide space at the entrance where changing screens and shelves with baskets had been set up and next to the shelves was a long, skinny mirror. The shelves were pushed against the wall while the screens separated them from the rest of the room, shielding changing ladies from the mountain air. White towels draped over the screens, ready for whoever should need or want them. In the middle of the room was a deep basin, when Elena plunged into it she found that in the deepest part the water came up to her waist. Like most everything else in Skyhold, it was heated by the Earth itself to a most pleasant temperature. She sat down on one of the benches set into the floor of the basin and set about the business of cleaning the grit and grime of travel from her skin.

Not many people used the baths because they were difficult to get to and Skyhold was perched over a great river anyway. Most troops chose to utilize large tubs in strategically located tents about camp, but the deep stone baths of Skyhold were a special luxury, well-worth the trek up the mountainside and through the corridors of the fortress. As a result, Elena's time there was relatively private, though there were several other ladies present. However, she did not have to sit too close to any of them. She listened to them quietly while she scrubbed her body and washed her hair. They weren't talking about anything important, their conversation revolved mainly around their love lives and training schedules. They bemoaned their chores around camp as being boring and useless. Ultimately, they were boring to listen to, so Elena tuned them out. She looked down at her legs and absently traced the ragged circle of scar tissue left behind by the arrow from the Fallow Mire. Thinking about the Fallow Mire she wondered if she had been promoted too soon. She really wasn't ready, even now, to lead a whole squadron. She wasn't going to suggest she be demoted, but she may delegate more tasks to Fabien since he had more experience than her.

She sighed; thoughts of Fabien always left an aching tug in her heart. "Do you think about what might have happened had I not left? Where we might be? What we might be doing?" The memory of how close he had been, the clear sunlight illuminating his eyes and making them seem positively crystalline as he bent towards her. She shivered despite the warmth of the bath remembering the warm, sultry timbre of his voice. She stood, the cold air outside of the water shocking her into the present. This bath had gone on long enough if she was having vaguely romantic day dreams about Fabien. She wasn't eighteen anymore. They weren't together. As far as she was concerned, she reminded herself firmly, that part of her life was long-over. He had ended it himself.

She exited the pool and asked a bath attendant to send for some clean clothes for her from her quarters. While she waited for her clean clothes to arrive, she studied herself in the mirror. Wrapped in a towel with her long locks curling and clinging to her shoulders and face and trailing down her back, she looked much younger than she was. She frowned slightly, reaching up to touch the wide pink patch of skin that marked where she had gotten her shoulder chopped in the Fallow Mire. The scar tissue was smooth, but was raised above the rest of her shoulder as if a cord was buried beneath the surface. Her chest had a series of smaller, finer scars spattered across it from her time with Samson. She looked at her wrists, marked with a rough circle of white scar tissue, and felt her frown deepen. She turned away from the mirror, trying to hide her wrists in her hands. She reminded herself that she was lucky to simply be alive and that in time she would grow used to her new appearance.

Presently, the bath attendant returned with some clothes. Elena slipped into them gratefully and left. She made her way back to the Main Hall and headed to Erik's quarters. She stopped on the stairs in front of his door and knocked loudly. After a few moments, Dorian opened the door. He was dressed but his hair was disheveled and his mustache wasn't properly curled. There were red marks pressed into his cheek.

The Tevinter Mage looked surprised to see her, "Elena! What are you doing here? When did you get back?" He asked in quick succession, smoothing his hair back into place. "What time is it?"

Elena shrugged, "I'm here to see my brother. Cullen and I got back some time ago. I've been to the Baths. I don't know the time."

Dorian looked wistfully away from her face, twirling the tips of his mustache back to their usual state, "Ah, yes, the Baths. They are nice." Elena got the feeling he was remembering something specific, though, she wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was. Dorian cleared his throat and added on, "Your brother is in the War Room still, I imagine." He stepped out, causing Elena to move to the side, "I suppose there's no use in my staying here longer, then."

Elena followed behind him, "How long has he been in there today?"

Dorian bobbed his head indecisively, "Since just after breakfast. He did tell me that he would be back soon… Apparently he was detained when your Commander arrived. What a pity."

Elena sighed heavily as they stepped back into the Main Hall, "How long do you think they'll be?"

"How should I know? He doesn't tell me any more than he tells you." Dorian paused looking at Elena's skeptical face, "All right, he tells me more than you, but not that much more, I'd wager."

She giggled, "What're you going to do now?"

"I've got some research to work on and a few letters to write. The library here is abysmal. However, if you want to read a copy of The Chantry: A History, don't worry. There are probably enough copies to give one to every person who walks through the gate."

"Sounds exhilarating, but I think I'll pass on the book."

"Just as well, you probably know more than that outdated relic anyway." He said in parting as he headed off for the mages' library. Elena wandered down to the courtyard. The sparring ring was alive with activity as always. Stuffed around the outside of it, onlookers shouted encouragement, tips, and insults at the pair inside. As she edged her way through the small crowd she could see that the people sparring were not people she knew, so she left. She wandered casually up the battlements and took a slow circuit around them.

She ended up by her own rooms. She didn't need to go there, so she walked a few doors down to Fabien's room. She paused outside, considering whether or not she should knock. She had never been to his rooms in the Circle but he had always been in hers. Feeling familiar enough to risk it, she opened his door and walked in.

Elena immediately regretted her decision.

Fabien was seated on the bed, naked to the waist, his armor in his lap and a polishing cloth in his hand. Next to him on the bed was a small armor repair kit with the implements spread out all around him. When the door knocked into the wall, Fabien looked up and around.

Fabien's face split into a smile beneath his tousled hair and scruffy beard, "Lane!" He popped the armor onto the bed and stood. Elena couldn't help herself, her eyes swept over him, greedily drinking in the once-familiar sight of his powerful chest and arms. There were some new scars running diagonally across his torso like he had been swiped by something with large claws.

Fabien stepped closer to Elena, "I missed you!" His arms twitched like he had been about to reach out and grab her, but he didn't. Elena felt strange seeing this, almost like she was disappointed in his restraint.

Elena smiled at him, "I missed you, too!" Changing the subject Elena motioned to his bare chest, "Those scars are new."

Fabien looked down and ran a hand over the white lines, "Oh, yeah. One of those Shades got me. A mage had accidentally summoned it mucking around after hours. It… wasn't pretty." He cleared his throat, "When did you get back?"

"A couple of hours ago now..."

"Well, you must not have missed me too much then."

Elena rolled her eyes, crossing the room and sitting herself on the bed, "Of course I missed you. You're…" She swallowed, catching herself staring at his body again. It had been awhile since she'd even seen Cullen in this state of undress. She wondered how it was that the Maker made men so pleasant to look at.

Fabien looked at her looking at him and smirked as he moved to lean against the wall, pushing his hips forward so that just his shoulders were touching the stone. He hooked one hand casually into a pocket while the other ran through his thick, black hair, ruffling it, "If I didn't know any better, Lane, I'd say you're enjoying the view."

Elena blushed, "Well, there's not much else to look at!"

Fabien's smirk grew wider as he dropped his voice a level, "Even if there was, would you be looking elsewhere?" He teased.

She bit her lip and looked away, "Put a shirt on. It's unseemly to be with a lady and without a shirt."

Fabien sighed, pushing himself from the wall and moved to the bed. "I'd like to remind you that you're the one who barged in here." He reached around her, bringing his bare chest close enough that Elena caught a whiff of the woodsy odor of his skin. She shivered as he pulled away, a plain white cotton shirt in his grasp. She watched his muscles move smoothly beneath his fair skin as he slipped into the shirt. "Is that better, my lady Trevelyan?"

Elena nodded, "Yes, and don't call me that."

Fabien spread his arms wide and fell into a bow, "But, as you reminded me yourself, you are a lady after all."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

He stood, rolling his shoulders, "Whatever you say, Elena." He paused for a beat and added, "How was your trip? Anything interesting happen?"

Elena stood and motioned for him to follow her, "Come on. Let's go for a walk, and I'll tell you all about it." He flashed a bright smile as they exited his room.

XXX

"Look who it is!" Erik's voice rang out loud and true from the top of the hall, carrying easily down to Elena and Fabien seated with Varric at the other end. "My sister has returned at long last!" He continued as he strode gallantly towards them. Varric grumbled about disturbing perfectly good games of Wicked Grace. Fabien ducked his head, trying to hide. Elena meanwhile, watched suspiciously as Erik plopped himself down with a jovial greeting for all at the table. Varric, as if prompted by a signal, stood, politely excused himself, and walked off.

"You act as if the Commander hasn't been embroiled with you in War Council dealings since he set foot in Skyhold." Fabien observed coolly, giving Erik a sidelong look.

Erik shrugged and swiped an apple from the bowl on the table, polishing it on his shirt as he responded. "Just because the Commander has returned doesn't mean my sister deigned to grace these halls with her presence. She is her own woman."

"I am a soldier in the Inquisition's army. I can't abandon my post." Elena chimed in, "So as long as the Inquisition is fighting Corypheus, I plan to 'grace these halls' with my presence."

"Or as long as the Commander gives you the time of day." Fabien teased, elbowing Erik in the ribs and chuckling.

Erik sputtered around his apple, "Yes… unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be ending any time soon." He avoided either of their eyes and busied himself with brushing crumbs from the table in front of him.

Elena sighed heavily, "I thought you were past whatever trepidation you experience when you think about my future with Cullen."

Erik groaned, "Lane, I'm your older brother. I will never not 'experience trepidation' whenever I think about you with a man ten years your senior." He pulled her into a rough headlock, grinding his knuckles into her scalp playfully, "Why can't you marry Fabien instead, huh?"

Elena protested strongly, shoving herself from his grip, "Fabien made his choice. I made mine. Since when do either of you care about my marital status?"

"Don't you?" Fabien stood, towering over them as he stretched luxuriously, "You've been in the Inquisition for… how long has it been? About a year?" Erik and Elena both looked at him in bewilderment. "You don't know how long you've been fighting for?"

"I'm sure Josephine keeps track of that for me." Erik responded, taking a large bite of apple and looking askance.

"I'm just a soldier." Elena stated simply, "That's not my job to know."

Fabien shook his head, "I always keep track for my own edification, but that's me. Lane, you coming?"

"Where are you going?"

He pulled an uncertain face, "Wherever my feet take me, I guess."

Elena shook her head, "That sounds like a recipe for trouble and I just got back. I think I should take it easy for the night. Plus, I think Erik misses me. We'll probably end up at the Rest later if you want to join."

Fabien nodded, reaching out and placing a hand on her head, ruffling her already disheveled hair further, "A chance to spend more time with you? Maybe share a dance? How could I resist?" He smiled tenderly down at her. Elena swallowed hard, broke his eye contact, and tried to settle her hair back into place. Fabien was gone by the time she felt her hair was presentable again.

Erik grinned at her wolfishly, "Do you want to go get into trouble with me?"

Elena smiled, "Depends on the trouble. I do have to report to the Commander in more ways than one. I could be getting into double-trouble if I'm not careful," Despite her gentle cautioning, she found herself following along as he stood and led her out of the main hall.

"Oh, he'll be fine. We're going to tweak Dorian's tail a bit."

"You've got my attention. Tell me the details."

Erik laughed deep in his chest, "Oh, you're the bait. I've already got it set up."

"I feel like I spend most of my time being the bait, Erik. Why do you have to do this to me?" She told him, thinking back on her captures and shivering despite the warmth of the afternoon sun on her face. She rubbed her wrists, dropping behind him so he wouldn't see.

"This isn't anything like… that." He finished lamely walking up the stairs to the kitchens. "He's been complaining about the muffins not being up-to-par to the ones he used to eat in Minrathous. I baked him some special ones."

Elena quirked an eyebrow at him as she scooted herself onto a table, watching him pull a tray out of the oven. In the hollows of the tray sat twelve delicious smelling, golden brown muffins. "These look delicious. What's wrong with them?"

Erik blinked innocently at her, "I don't know what you're talking about." He began to carefully extract them from the tray, "These are special muffins for Dorian. I baked them with love and careful consideration to his preferences. Do you really suspect me of bearing ill-will towards my beloved?" He sprinkled them with sugar so fine that it appeared to be snow.

Elena watched with trepidation, "You are handing me a plate of special muffins after telling me that we're going to 'tweak his tail'… I think I'd be stupid to not suspect you."

Erik smiled sweetly at her, "Sometimes you can be nice when you tweak someone's tail." He motioned for her to get off the table and take the muffins from him. "Don't worry about it, Lane. I'll tell you exactly what to say."

"What're you gonna do? Hide behind a curtain and whisper to me?"

He giggled, "That really would be something, but no. Just tell him 'I found these muffins and they looked so good I had to share. You're the first person I thought of!' Then take one and take a bite. Keep a straight face. That is the most important part. I think you're the only person who can pull this off."

"What do I get for eating some of these mystery muffins?"

"Whatever you would like."

"All right, you buy all the drinks tonight at the Rest."

"I'm the Inquisitor. They're free for me."

"Exactly."

"Sounds like an excellent trade of goods and services. We have a bargain." They shook hands. Elena took the muffins from him. "After you take a bite, all of his suspicions will be lifted and he will do the same to be polite. Then, maybe you ought to leave." He turned her and gently pushed her towards the door. "He'll be in the Mage's library as usual."

"Oh, Maker, save me from my brother." She mumbled as she went obediently on her way. The walk to the Mage's library was blessedly uneventful. Solas ignored her as she appeared in the rotunda, focused on his mural. She ascended the stairs, feeling the familiar weight of anticipation settle in her stomach. This was the part of mischief she liked the most. She wished she had Fabien next to her, a steadying hand, reminding her that this wasn't really going to hurt anyone. In a day everyone will laugh at it. There will be no lasting repercussions from this. What if he turns me into a newt!? She could feel the anticipation turn into panic as Dorian looked over at her from his bookcase.

"Elena! I didn't think you'd make time to come see me twice in one day…" His face went from warm and welcoming to suspicious as he continued, "And you've brought me a present no less? What ever have I done to deserve the fruits of the younger Trevelyan's baking enterprises?"

She smiled, sliding the plate onto a stack of books in his nook. She selected one without much thought and tossed it nonchalantly into the air, catching it deftly as it descended towards her, "Oh, you know I can't cook to save my life. I nicked these from the kitchens on my way here. I thought you might be hungry… unless you don't like muffins?"

Dorian chuckled, "I don't mind a good muffin. The ones the kitchen staff usually makes are… well, they're just not the same as the ones in Minrathous. I've been struggling with my tea time."

"You have time for tea?"

Dorian looked appalled, "When we stop having time to have a proper tea, then we have become war-mongering barbarians."

"I didn't know Magisters liked having tea time." She took a bite of the muffin and barely remembered to keep a straight face. The muffin was laden with salt and pepper. She looked at the inside of it; nothing seemed to be off visually. How had Erik managed to hide the pepper so well?

"How is it?" Dorian asked, picking one up and eyeing it critically.

"I think it's delicious. They're still warm if you eat them soon." She started to back away, getting ready to make a quick exit, taking her muffin with her. Dorian shrugged and took a large bite of the one in his hand. As soon as his lips touched it, she turned and darted for the stairs. She was not fast enough to avoid the muffin as it came pelting down at her from above as she dashed across the rotunda floor below him. His curses echoed splendidly around the domed room. Next, she heard him thundering down the stairs after her. She slipped outside and pounded across the bridge to Cullen's tower. She ran inside, closing the door behind her. She was breathing heavily, her muscles aching at the sudden and intense demand on them.

"Healer Varmont won't like you exerting yourself like that so soon after our trip." Cullen stated quietly from behind his desk. Elena looked at him sheepishly as he returned to work. "What has Fabien done now?"

Elena let out a snort and explained between large, careful breaths, "Not… Fabien… Erik."

"Hmmm," Cullen responded, fully engrossed in the papers on his desk "Doesn't sound like him."

"He… he made me feed Dorian salt and pepper muffins. Dorian was… upset."

"I'm sure." He shuffled some papers around, picked up a quill and added some information to a list. "I don't know why you came here; I can't protect you from any mischief you willingly get into."

"I know. I didn't really have a plan for escape. I just got out of there as fast as I could." She walked over to him and looked down at the papers spread there. "What are you planning now?"

Cullen glanced up at her, "Didn't the Inquisitor tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I'm afraid that if he didn't tell you, I cannot." He fell silent as he began to work some figures on a slate. She watched him work for a minute before wandering over to his bookshelf. She selected a book at random and read the title idly Andraste: Bride of the Maker. She put it back on the shelf and pulled another one out… Hard in Hightown.

"You enjoy Varric's writing?" She asked holding the book up and pointing at the cover.

Cullen set his slate down, walked over to her, plucked the book from her grasp, re-shelved it, and returned to work. "I enjoyed that book… to a degree. It's not always easy to remember Kirkwall in any aspect, even fiction." He told her quietly as he picked up his quill and added the new figures from the slate to a different list. "I'm sorry, Elena, but I need to concentrate. You're welcome to stay and read until the weather clears, but you have to be silent. This is… complicated."

Elena opened the side door nearest her, "Don't worry about it. Erik's covering for me with Dorian. Will you come to the Rest after dinner?" She asked hopefully.

Cullen nodded absent-mindedly, "If I'm not too busy."

"Of course." She said as she closed the door behind her.

XXX

Elena looked down at her mug of ale. It was almost empty. The pitcher in the middle of the table was in a similar state, so she stood and headed downstairs. The Herald's Rest was a cacophonous nest of joviality as usual. Soldiers that were off for the night or on a short leave crowded up to the tables, hooting and hollering. More than one game of Wicked Grace could be found on each of the levels of the tavern. Maryden had called in a few other minstrel friends and they were singing the liveliest songs she had heard in a long time. Cabot had brought up a few casks of extra-fine-ale. Since Erik was paying for the night's beverages, she didn't mind picking up a couple of pitchers of it. Happily she wound her way back to their table on the second floor. They had chosen to seat themselves near the edge so they could look down and hoot at the revel going on below them without much effort.

Elena squeezed back into her spot at the table between Reeves and Erik who were having a heated discussion with Dorian across the table about the Inquisition's uniforms. It seemed that Reeves and Dorian both agreed that they had serious problems, not the least of which was their general appearance. Reeves was suggesting they add chain mail or gambesons to the chest armor and change the colors from the green of lamb's wool to a more visually appealing red like lustrous cotton. Her reasoning was that since the Inquisition's colors were already widely accepted to be gold, black, and red, why not allow that to show through in their troops' uniforms? Dorian agreed with her but thought they should also make the armor's metal more attractive, perhaps by switching from iron to steel. Erik rolled his eyes at each suggestion and told them to take their complaints to the Quartermaster and not to him.

"There you are!" Fabien exclaimed as he came into view around Reeves's shoulders. "I've been searching through this whole place! So many people here tonight." He leaned around Reeves and set his empty mug down. "You owe me a dance, Trevelyan."

Erik fanned himself with his free hand, "Fabien, well, I never would've thought you'd fancy a turn about the dance floor with little old me." He downed the rest of his drink in one great quaff, "Let's go already!" He stood and quickly swept Fabien away, the pair of them laughing like mad as they thundered down the stairs.

Reeves shook her head, joining in the mirth, "I'm not sure he got a dance with the Trevelyan he wanted." She observed.

Dorian was visibly stunned, "I've been replaced! And so easily!"

Elena nodded sagely, "It stings, doesn't it?"

"You're one to talk! You've also been replaced!" Dorian quipped back at her.

Elena shrugged, standing and moving to the mage's side, "I have. Would you like to go and show them what they're missing?" She asked, extending her hand to him a winning smile on her lips. Dorian grinned wolfishly at her in return and slid his hand into hers. She struggled to maintain her calm as he turned the full weight of his charm onto her.

"We shall give them the grandest show possible." He murmured to her, pulling her against his chest as he stood, one arm wrapping around behind the small of her back with an experienced grip. His other hand he brought up to gently trace the curve of her chin, using it to tilt her face to his. He dipped his head and just before his lips would have crashed onto hers, he spun her away and tugged her down the stairs. Elena was breathless in his wake. Oh my. No wonder Erik is so enamored with him. When they reached the revelry below, Dorian spun her back into his arms and proceeded to lead about in a spirited and sultry step. Elena followed his movements the best she could, but she was ultimately no match for his skill.

It didn't take long for Erik to extricate himself from Fabien and insert himself into Dorian's arms instead. "Sorry, dear sister, but you don't know what to do with a proper man." He told her, as Dorian whisked him away from her.

Before Elena could take a breath, Fabien had her in his arms, spinning her around the floor to join in the flow of music and bodies again. His body was heated from the exercise as he tugged her close to avoid a passing group of girls. She felt her body flush as his arms tightened around her, feeling the hard lines of his body against hers. He laughed as they danced to Maryden's ever-increasing tempo. Finally, when Elena thought for sure if they song got any faster their feet would catch fire, the music came to an abrupt halt. Fabien caught her tightly about the waist, lifting her a few inches from the floor in his fervor. Their breathing was heavy and in time with each other's. He set her down and bowed to her.

"Thank you for the dance, my lady. I think I would care for some refreshments now."

Elena giggled, curtsying back, "Refreshments sound positively grandiose, my good sir."

"Shall I escort you to the table?" He held out a hand to her.

"Elena," Cullen's voice cut through the chatter easily, "Where are you?"

Elena looked at Fabien's outstretched hand and towards the door where she could see Cullen standing, casting an eye around for her. "I've got to go." She explained as she made her way towards Cullen. He looked visibly relieved to see her when she finally managed to get over to him.

"Ah, there you are." He pulled her into a warm embrace, placing a searing kiss on her lips. "I've been waiting all day to do that." He told her as they pulled apart.

"Trevelyan! Commander!" Porteur tottered over on unsteady feet from the bar, two pitchers clutched in his unsteady hands, "It's so good you've arrived. Now, we can really let loose!" He hiccupped, pushing a pitcher into Cullen's grip.

Elena gently took the other pitcher from Porteur, seeing how precarious his grasp on it was, "I can't believe they sent you down the stairs in this condition."

Porteur giggled, "There aren't any stairs to fool with now. People just shove up and down em. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down. It's quite fun." He motioned to them to follow him, "Come on, I'll show you!

XXX

Elena was nestled into the crook of Cullen's arm, listening to the men at the table chatter and boast and regale each other with stories of their valor. She and Reeves sat and listened, sharing looks and whispers and drinks with each other. Maryden and the minstrels had retired some time ago and the Rest was winding down. The various patrons of the establishment were trickling out the doors amidst boughts of raucous laughter and shouts. It felt almost like a normal night instead of a stolen few moments of normalcy in the over-reaching strangeness of the past several months. Corypheus was a name that was never uttered but danced around and hinted at in many of the group's stories.

"Before…" Erik gestured at their surroundings broadly, "All of this… I wasn't much more than my father's retainer. Of course, the Free Marches are not without their share of bravado-seeking nit-wits."

"You would know." Elena said under her breath. Cullen, above her, choked on his drink as he struggled not to laugh at her remark.

"Well!" Fabien stated abruptly, standing and stretching. Elena ran an appraising eye over him as his shirt tail lifted, exposing the hard muscles of his stomach beneath. She noticed Dorian, Erik, and Reeves do the same. It was hard to ignore Fabien's sheer physical attractiveness. He yawned, stretching to the side now, "I think I'm going to turn in for the night. Lane, you want me to walk you back to your room?"

She blinked, tearing her eyes off his hips and meeting his gaze. She was not entirely pleased to see him smirking smugly at her; clearly she had been caught out in her gawking. She blushed furiously, ducking her head into Cullen's chest, "No. Cullen will walk me back later. She felt Cullen's grip on her shoulder loosen slightly. Part of her wanted to know what silent looks the two men were exchanging, but was too stubborn to look at Fabien's gloating face again. He didn't respond, but Elena heard the tread of his boots as he left. Reeves and Porteur went next, hanging onto each other. They tugged each other along by teasing the other into moving with a kiss, not unlike the proverbial carrot on a string. They watched the pair leave, each couple exchanging significant looks with their partner.

"Dorian, it's time to go." Erik announced, standing and bringing the mage with him. "Cabot wants to close up shop."

Cullen and Elena wordlessly followed suit. Once outside the Harold's Rest, Elena found herself in Cullen's arms again. Erik and Dorian teetered away from them, waving good bye and throwing a few bawdy jokes back at Cullen that caused Elena to cover her face with her hands. They collapsed onto each other in fits of mirth at their cleverness as they ascended the stairs to the main hall.

Silence enveloped them. The sounds of the night were small compared to the hustle and bustle of the previous couple hours inside the tavern. Elena shivered; rubbing her arms with her hands, waiting for… she couldn't really say. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a knife, her breath fogging in the cold night air. Wordlessly, Cullen removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders, before taking her hand and guiding her towards his tower.

At the top of the battlements, she pulled him to a halt, feeling somewhat out of breath and dizzy. He grinned and brought them together, pressing a passionate kiss to her lips. His hands gripped her upper arms firmly, holding them together in fervent ardor. Elena felt herself go weak about the knees and was glad for his grip holding her upright. A few, lengthened moments later, they broke apart, each gasping for air. Then, he took her hand again and guided her the rest of the way to his chambers. They stopped several times in the deep shadows to share fevered embraces.

At last, he ushered her into his tower. The sights and smells were familiar, but as Elena looked around it was if each item had heightened substance and clarity. Then, Cullen was in front of her, gilded by the candlelight. He reached out and pushed the few locks of hair that had worked their way out of her upswept style throughout the night behind her ear, his warm hand lingering against the chilled skin of her neck. Elena reached up and caught his wrist, pressing her lips against the inside of it. The corners of his eyes crinkled, causing them to shine like polished amber beneath his serious brow. She couldn't stand it any longer. She jumped at him, pushing him backwards with her gusto. Their mouths crashed together, hands fumbling at each other's bodies. Elena searched for the straps holding his breastplate on, tiring of the feel of cold metal beneath her chest.

She felt him let out a breath of a chuckle as her hands danced around his armpits. Gently, he grasped her hands and guided them to the straps' location, helping her work the stiff leather. After a few moments, they managed to undo them and the armor clattered to the floor. The sound caused them to break apart. Cullen quickly bent, releasing his legs from their greaves before standing and fussing with his bracers. Elena, meanwhile, worked on his pauldrons. Silently cursing his duties for keeping him from changing to more comfortable dress for their revelries, she pushed the metal plates away from his body, enjoying the feeling of his shoulders beneath her hands. The pauldrons crashed to the floor as well. He looked up at her, appearing momentarily annoyed. She smiled sheepishly at him, wiggling her way in for a quick kiss on the lips.

A few seconds later, his bracers fell to the floor, followed shortly by his gloves. He stepped back from her, struggling out of his boots. Elena, seizing the opportunity, did the same. Finally, they stood barefoot in front of each other. Cullen reached out and pushed his cloak from around her shoulders. It slid to the ground with the soft swish, thump of puddling fabric. Elena kicked it out from around her feet, stepping back into his all-encompassing embrace. She tugged his shirt from where it was tucked inside of his pants, sliding it up over his sculpted stomach. She shivered as she felt his hands copy her motions, tracing around the curve of her hips, the calluses catching lightly on her skin. She stepped back from him and slipped her shirt over her head. Cullen swallowed hard as she reached out and worked his shirt off as well.

As the fabric hit the floor, Cullen gripped her by the shoulders again. He pulled her to him with renewed vigor and she felt herself lift from the floor to be seated on the edge of his desk. He knelt down before her, trailing searing kisses from her mouth, down between her breasts, he swirled his tongue over her navel and stopped at her waistband. He groaned in frustration as he was forced to stop and slip her out of her pants. His own came off with minimal effort. Elena hid a smile behind her hand, feeling sheepish seated as she was in nothing but her small clothes on his desk. Cullen's face broke into a roguish smile as he moved towards her. She leaned back, causing him to follow her, crawling onto the desk on top of her. She thrilled at the feel of his warm, solid flesh hovering scant inches away from her own bare body. With a smirk, she pulled him the rest of the way onto her and lost herself in his attentions.

XXX

Elena woke to snowflakes settling on her cheek. The icy cold crystals melting against her face in greater numbers were enough to rouse her from her state of blissful exhaustion. She pulled herself out of bed, shivering as goose pimples erupted over every inch of her exposed skin. I thought I closed the window… she thought blearily, rubbing her eyes and looking to check the window. There wasn't a window in the wall, just a hole in the ceiling. Oh…Oh my. She looked around her, searching for Cullen. He wasn't present. Her heart fell into her stomach as a knot of dread lodged itself simultaneously in her throat. The inevitable second-guessing set in, riddling her with self-doubt. She slid down the ladder into the empty main room of the tower, covering as much of her body as she could with her hands and arms as she searched for her clothes. She found them folded neatly on top of his dresser. She slipped quickly into her outfit from the previous night and left the tower.

Outside, the courtyards were bustling with activity beneath her. The soldiers dashed to and fro, shouting at each other, in the gently falling spring snow. She stopped half-way across and watched the goings-on for a minute. What's happening? The chilled air got to her before she could figure it out, driving her indoors.

Solas looked up from his table, taking in her appearance quickly, his passive face didn't betray any thoughts he might have had about her advent. "Good morning, Lady Trevelyan." He intoned quietly, returning to his original state. "You're up late."

"Is it late?" She asked edging past him, "What is the time?"

Solas grimaced and snapped, "How should I know the time? Everyone has been busy for hours now, so it must be late." He explained, his temper cooling quickly, "I'm sorry. The preparations have been ceaseless since dawn and they're giving me a headache."

Elena was taken aback by the apology, "No, no, it's all right. What's going on?"

Solas looked up at her again. This time he looked at her more carefully, his brow furrowing slightly, "You really don't know?" he queried coming around to the side of the table facing her and leaning his long frame against the edge, arms crossed over his chest.

She huffed, "Clearly, I am confused or I wouldn't be asking."

Solas shook his head, "I don't know if I'm at liberty to tell you. The Inquisitor didn't mention anything?"

"He doesn't tell me everything."

"Obviously."

"Will you tell me what's going on?"

Solas was quiet for several moments, a contemplative, far-off look in his eyes. At last he spoke, "No. I don't think I should. The Inquisitor is in the War Room." He removed himself from the table's edge and went back to the other side. "I suggest you go and ask him."

Elena rolled her eyes, "You are the most helpful person I have ever met." She mumbled as she exited the rotunda. She quickly crossed the main hall to Josephine's study where she was intercepted by Dorian. She stopped in her tracks as she watched the mage scan her from the top down and back up again, a sly grin splitting his features. She shook her head firmly, pressing a finger to her lips, trying to stop him from speaking.

"You look like the cat that ate the canary." Dorian drawled, walking over to inspect her. Elena tried to move around him, but he blocked her way, "I thought I saw a certain wicked gleam in the Commander's eye last night. Did you really?" He was practically breathless as he circled around to her back, picking up a handful of her unbound hair as he went. "On an unrelated note, how do you manage to keep this so soft?"

Elena batted his hand away, turning to face him, "Nothing happened last night Dorian." She forced out, avoiding meeting his gaze for more than a second.

Dorian's grin widened, "Of course nothing happened, my dear girl, you don't know the difference between nothing and something." He chuckled at his statement.

"You're one to talk." She said shortly and turned and started for the War Room again.

Dorian stopped his teasing and grew serious, "Why are you here?"

Elena cast a glance over her shoulder as she opened the door, "I'm here to find out what's going on outside." She went through.

"He didn't tell you?" Dorian's eyebrows rose further than she'd ever seen them before. He started after her, following in her wake in silence.

"What? Do you know?" Dorian nodded, his eyebrows descending slightly, "Let me guess, you're not going to tell me, though?" Dorian nodded again. "Very well, I will have to go and interrupt Erik. This… should be fun." She pushed the War Room's door open. It moved on silent hinges, but did not go unnoticed. Cullen cleared his throat causing Erik and Fabien to turn around. She thought it a small mercy that only the men were present in the semicircular room. Elena stepped over the threshold and walked up to her brother, planting her feet firmly hip-width apart and crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly. She locked eyes with her brother, her attention not wavering an inch. She waited. It was always best to present a strong front to Erik

Erik smirked, "Good morning, Elena. How was your night?"

Elena swallowed and clenched her hands tighter around her arms, "It was pleasant enough. I slept well. How was yours?"

Erik shrugged, his smirk becoming smug, "It was… invigorating." His eyes slid over the top of her head to where Dorian was no-doubt leaning against the wall spectating. Erik winked and returned his gaze to Elena's, the blue of his eyes was clear and hard in the sunlit room. "Normally our planning meetings are private affairs. To what do we owe the pleasure of your unwarranted company?"

Elena tossed her head haughtily, "Don't act like it's so private when you've got Fabien standing right there at the table and Dorian running interference in Josephine's study." She poked a finger into his hard chest, "What are you hiding from me, Erik?" She demanded.

Erik looked bemused, "Dorian running… I'm sorry, you did what?" He moved to look fully around Elena and gawk at Dorian. Elena turned her head to view him as well.

Dorian shrugged and spread his hands wide, "I had a hunch that she'd head here eventually."

"You didn't tell her, did you?"

"Do you think she'd be here and acting this polite if I had?"

Elena scoffed, "Erik!" She snapped her fingers in front of his face, drawing his attention back to her, "Tell me what is going on. Why is everyone so busy?" Erik laid his hands gently on her shoulders, his face taking on that 'I'm your older brother and I know more than you do so behave' look she hated from her youth. She stepped out of his grasp, her suspicions that she had refused to fully acknowledge bubbling to the forefront of her mind. "Erik…" she said, her tone filled with warning.

"Elena, my most beloved sister, now is not really a good time to have this conversation."

"Don't."

"Elena…" Erik drew out her name, reaching out for her again. She side stepped him, coming between him and Fabien.

"What have you refused to tell me? What's going on?" She asked again, "Be plain with me."

Erik pivoted with her, his eyes darting away from her face. Elena felt Fabien's hands rest on her shoulders. "Lane, let's go outside. This isn't the time or place." He rumbled out quietly, bringing his mouth close to her ear. She felt her hair catch on his beard, the warmth of his breath cascading over her neck. She felt a slight tremor run itself over the length of her body. She spun to face him, his hands never leaving her shoulders. She searched his dark green eyes for the answer her brother refused to give her. He looked away from her, biting his lip and removing his hands from her to push them through his hair.

"Fabien?" She whispered, "You… you know, don't you?"

He gestured at their surroundings, "That's a reasonable inference." She couldn't help it; her eyes filled with tears. It felt like a betrayal. He had never kept a secret from her for Erik before. Anything and everything Erik told him had always been fair game to share with her.

"Elena, they're preparing to go to the Arbor Wilds. We've finally managed to track Corypheus and Samson there. We're hoping that if we can either get there before them or stop them, we can end this whole… situation in one fell swoop." Cullen's voice cut through the tension like a knife.

Elena closed her eyes, taking in a deep, slow breath. She let it out just as slowly. "Why didn't you tell me, dearest brother?" She asked opening her eyes to stare at Fabien's unarmored chest. He'd left the collar open, revealing the hard muscles beneath. She watched his breathing as if in a trance. In. Out. She found herself matching her own breathing to his.

"I didn't tell you because Healer Varmont told me you had to stay behind."

Elena shook her head, "He never mentioned it."

"Why would he? You're not going. You can't even lift your sword."

"You don't know that."

"Elena." Fabien cut in, "The fact is, you going is too risky. We all agreed it was for the best that you stay here."

"And you all agreed to not tell me."

"No." Fabien reached up and gently placed her face in his hands, forcing her to make eye contact with him, "We all agreed that Erik should tell you. We all agreed that you would be safer here."

She stepped backwards, jerking her face from his grip, "Don't. Touch me." She whispered venomously to him, "As for… this mess. I understand completely. I am like a mewling fawn in the forest. I'll just miss you all so terribly much." She explained, leaving the room, feeling as if iron had replaced the marrow of her bones. She knew what she had to do. She stood outside the door for a moment, and looked at each man's face, trying to memorize them. "I'll go to the settlements and keep myself busy with the refugees until you return." She smiled in what she hoped was a warm way, "Do be safe." She blew them a kiss and left.

XXX

Elena stood in the snowy road outside of Skyhold. She was holding onto Cullen's reins, staring up at him while Erik gave a rallying speech to the assembled mass of the army. She heard the rise and fall of her brother's voice, but the words carried no meaning. They were empty sounds to her. Cullen glanced down at her and she watched him struggle to suppress a smile, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards causing his scar to twitch and stretch, a side effect that she found most pleasing. He had come to her quarters after the War Council meeting and explained everything to her. She was to be left behind while Fabien took over her squadron. Her job would be to oversee the recovering troops and their training while the rest of the army went to the Arbor Wilds to deal with Corypheus and his ilk. It made sense objectively, and when Cullen explained the deeper strategies and workings of the gambit, she had to admit it was an impressive venture. He was an impressive man. Presently, Erik finished his speech to a round of raucous applause. Cullen bent and Elena stepped up to meet him. They shared a lingering kiss. Elena reaching up to cup the back of his head with her hand and hold him there longer.

Cullen pulled away despite the gentle pressure, "I must go now." She nodded, biting her lip to stop it from trembling. Cullen's eyes were illuminated by the crisp sunlight turning them to pools of liquid honey. There was a tender seriousness about the corners of them that made Elena feel like he was going to continue speaking so she remained silent. "Elena… I love you." The words floated out of him on a breath as if he had been afraid to risk a deeper breath before stating them.

She inhaled sharply. The words pierced her to the soul. "I love you, too." She whispered ardently back. He beamed at her, capturing her lips in an amorous display. They were forced apart by the tide of troops. His horse pranced away, Cullen perched atop the puffing steed waved gallantly back at her. She returned his wave, eyes overflowing with tears, too overcome with emotion to do much more.

Author's Note: I don't know how long it's been. I won't apologize. It's... well, it's been a YEAR, hasn't it? 2021 will bring about the end of our saga. I am thankful to all who have followed, favorited, reviewed, and loved this story quietly from behind lurking screens. I adore each and every one of you. I wish you peace and countless blessings in the new year. We survived 2020. Now, to survive the Arbor Wilds.