WARNINGS: Violence and gore
CULLEN
The cold of her blade kissed my throat, but instead of the pain I expected, it merely stayed. Pressed against my skin, but not breaking it, not drawing blood. The light dissipated, my vision blurred. The pressure eased, gentle fingers replacing the cold flames.
I blinked furiously, she finally coming into focus. Meira seemed to almost glow from within as I looked at her, her silver eyes incandescing against the night sky like two brilliant stars, her mana positively singing. She dropped to her knees, time seeming to halt as tears spilt down her cheeks. She smiled gently at me and opened her mouth, but I swallowed her words as I claimed her lips with my own. I relished the gasp she let out, burying my fingers in her hair as I unleashed all of my passion into the kiss.
"I love you."
"And I you," she breathed.
"Well, I hate to interrupt this little lover's reunion," Imshael's voice echoed across the courtyard as it drew its talons from the unmoving body of Ghilani, "but you still haven't given me an answer, Fadewalker."
I stood and offered her a hand. "Together?"
She placed her delicate fingers in my gloved palm and I pulled her up. She gave a nod. "Together."
We turned to face our enemy. In the wake of Meira wresting herself from the jaws of the shadow that had been haunting her, magical energy had burst forth from her. It had knocked everyone down, but they were quickly recovering. Destroying the lyrium overhead had freed the mages of its poisonous effects, but it had done nothing to dampen Samson or the Red Templars. The elves that had been thrall to Imshael were, thankfully, still frozen.
But as he rose, Samson met my glare and gave a haughty smirk in response. He stepped forward, a fist hitting the chunk of red lyrium set into his cuirass. The lyrium blazed to life once more, a great surge radiating out. Samson's eyes glowed crimson at it, the other pieces of red lyrium set within his armor answering in kind. He drew his blade—Meredith's blade—and lifted it into the air.
"Templars! The Inquisition stands for the Chantry and its false god. They come to stand against us, against the Elder One, to bring us to heel or to kill us if we do not submit. Let us show them what the templars of a true god can do!"
Roars sounded in a rallying cry before the courtyard was once more bathed in crimson. The Red Templars rushed forward.
"Inquisition!" I shouted, drawing my own blade, "For Skyhold!"
The battalion and soldiers ran to meet the corrupted templars, magic and the white light of templar abilities trying to push back the garish crimson. Meira and I made to join them, but she stopped in her tracks.
"Mamae," a small voice spoke.
Meira began shaking. "You—You're not real."
I came to stand beside her. Before us stood a child. She was beautiful with her golden curls and brilliant jade eyes. I knew instantly this was the illusion Meira had seen at Solasan. Imshael was betting she'd give into temptation again when faced directly with it.
"Lieutenant," I murmured.
The battalion and the Red Templars were facing off. Samson's armor was granting him devastating power, the red lyrium still potent to any who got too near. The mages kept their distance, freezing or burning the corrupted enemy. Our templars kept them from gaining on the mages as they slowly whittled the enemy down.
But Samson could not be stopped or slowed. He swung his blade, the force killing any too close and knocking others back. He was like Meredith had been that fateful night when I'd stood with Hawke against her—nearly invincible. What was worse: Samson seemed unaffected by the lyrium. He was carving a path to the mages and if he got to them, we wouldn't stand a chance. A few of the Red Templars noticed us and charged.
"Lieutenant-Comander," I barked, more forcefully, readying my weapons.
Solana was trying to get to Samson, a beacon of flame amongst the flashes of magic and crimson light of the corrupted templars, but his underlings kept cutting her off. Until she melted them: lyrium, flesh and bone. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought her a rage demon.
I looked to Imshael, its gaze locked on Meira. The creature smiled, its eyes now blood-red—not the crimson of the corrupted lyrium, but the deep scarlet of actual blood—as demons manifested from the blood magic on the air. The child began crying; the pitiful wails of a babe, of another child, echoing. Meira let out a bitter sob, her arms cradling herself.
Imshael cackled. Our people were faltering. The Red Templars roared. Samson and Solana came face to face.
We were out of time.
"Come on, Fadewalker," Imshael goaded, "Look around you. All that surrounds you is death! All that awaits you is death! Take what I have to offer!"
"Be strong, beloved," I commanded.
Meira looked to me and the sorrow, the grief, in her eyes broke my heart. "Cullen, I…can't. I…need you."
"And you have me," I promised, "I'm right here. But I cannot do this for you. You must resist to break the hold. You had your time with them, but now…you must let go."
Meira searched my face, understanding coloring her own, before nodding. She reached a hand out to the illusion, caressing the child's cheek with the touch and care only a mother knew. "Ar lath ma, da'vhenans. Melava somniar, " she breathed, her voice shaking with grief. At her touch, light bloomed across the illusion. The child held Meira's wrist, nuzzling her cheek into Meira's palm. A contented sigh before a happy smile as her eyes closed. The cries of a babe quieted, calmed coos on the air.
"Ar lath ma, Mamae. Suledin." The light grew bright before the illusion winked out.
The temperature around Meira began to plummet. Meira's eyes snapped to Imshael, full of a blazing wrath. "I refuse your offer, demon, and I shall send you back to the Void."
"Oh for…Choice! Spirit!" Imshael snarled before letting out an inhuman screech. The creature folded in on itself. Grotesque sounds of bones breaking and flesh bursting clawing at my ears.
"Cullen, you need to help the others," she spoke, her voice strangely echoing.
"You cannot do this alone!"
"I must," she said calmly. The Red Templars that had nearly reached us screamed as they froze solid, toppled and shattered upon the stone. "Imshael is more than simply a demon. It is something older, stronger and beyond the rest of you." She met my gaze, her pupils and irises gone. Instead, her eyes were alight with magic. "You helped me already," she assured, "And besides," she laughed. "I am not alone."
A great gust of wind blew through the courtyard, warm and full of a song I couldn't quite hear. In its wake, the spirits connected to her armor manifested once more. Their faces familiar as I'd seen them around Skyhold. Except I noticed Purpose and Embrace were missing. I looked again and realized one of the spirits was unfamiliar, a young man that looked like—
"Assurance, mortal," the spirit spoke as it's different colored eyes met my own. "I am here to provide certainty where there was once doubt."
I looked to Meira. She gave me a sad, but brilliant smile. "It's you Samson wants. I need you to buy me enough time to wipe this thing from the face of Thedas. I must concentrate on Imshael. If Samson reaches me, I will not have the strength to defeat it. Get to Solana. Aid her. And if you can, tell her I am sorry."
I swallowed down my protests. She was right. They were matched in power, but Samson's armor would drain her mana. Just as it was doing to Solana, her flames guttering. She needed aid.
"Trust me," she urged, once more bringing the runes upon my armor to life with a touch.
"With all I have," I vowed before gripping my sword, raising my shield and charging into the fray. Maker, hear my cry.
…
MEIRA
I watched as my heart charged into battle, fierce and determined. I did not know if any of us would make it out of this alive. Samson was too strong, his armor negating any magic that came near and bolstering his brute strength. I hoped that Solana would be able to distract him just long enough. Imshael was something unknown, but its power was surging as it changed before me. The hum began again, but with the armor in place and I no longer at war within myself, I could drown it out. But how do I defeat the creature?
"You have the power of eight spirits with you," Assurance spoke, drawing a blade from his sheath. "And your abilities are fully in your control. Do not doubt and do not be afraid. We are with you."
A furious roar sounded before that darkness burst into flames. A rage demon, stronger than most, but still rage. Still fire. Gripping my swords, I waited for it to come to me as I called a blizzard into being. Frigid wind and biting snow swirling about us. Ice lacerated Imshael, drawing hateful shouts from it. Its baleful eyes glared, molten fire dripping upon the stones as it slid toward me. With a menacing laugh, I watched as the demon grew in height, its heat nearly blistering even at a distance. I felt my magic shift slightly and looked towards the source: Amelia, Laren, Asaala and Michel were running towards us.
"No! You cannot—"
"Shut up," Asaala barked as she cut through one of the demons Imshael had summoned. Her normally purple eyes now burned with lyrium. "Our abilities are the strongest as we're the newest templars. They are useless against the Red Templars. You need us."
"And I have a vow to keep," Michel countered, shielded by Laren, "You will not stop me."
"So you dare face me again, Michel? After your last blunder?" Imshael goaded.
Laren rushed forward, sword and shield alight with her templar abilities—her eyes were glowing with the lyrium she'd just ingested. She was fast. When I thought she'd be hit by the ice storm, Ardor appeared, blocking my magic with a fiery shield. Asaala ran parallel to Laren, her giant sword in her hands, Perseverance defending her. Amelia drew her bow, Joy at her side. Michel ran down the middle, Prudence enveloping him in a barrier. Imshael growled in frustration. I had to find a way to immobilize him.
"Your blade is not just a blade, Fadewalker," Assurance spoke, "If you will it, it will become a staff." He turned to the others and gestured for them to follow him as he charged Imshael.
I looked to my Fade-smithed blade. With a thought, it became a staff. The dragons elongated, their eyes brilliant and the diamond dazzling as magic flowed into it. I pulled everything I could into the staff and Fade-stepped towards Imshael. I popped into existence before it, the creature distracted by Laren and Asaala's blades that drew ferocious screams from it. Amelia's arrows kept hitting it in the eyes causing it to swat blindly, flinging molten fire everywhere. Michel stayed back, the heat too much without lyrium granting him immunity.
I swung the staff, concentrating everything I'd gathered into it. Runes spread down it before I slammed the end onto the ground. Ice burst from beneath Imshael, freezing it in its jaws. Michel took his opening and thrust his blade into Imshael.
The ice cracked and then shattered, liquid fire raining down. I conjured a massive ice wall to protect us all. Imshael bellowed before spewing fire. I threw my staff up, another wall of ice erupting, but this time impaling Imshael. The creature exploded, hurling us all back. The spirits caught us before we were sent too far back, righting us.
"Why do you fight me, Laren? All you've ever known is rage. Lay down your blade and—"
"Fenedhis lasa, ir emah'la shal! Na din'an shalin! Ir bellanaris din'an heem, harellen!" Larensnarled.
"I'll take that as a no, then," Imshael sighed.
Laren screamed in defiance as she swung her blade in a wide arc and severed one of Imshael's arms from its body. The creature howled before that sentient dark returned. It disappeared a moment and then reemerged in a new form: Pride. Electricity crackled down its craggy skin, its many eyes staring down Michel. "What about you, Michel? Give up this pretense at honor. We both know you have none. But I could give you some. Restore your honor. Even reunite you with your precious empress."
"I saw what you did to that elven clan," Michel spit, "You know nothing of honor."
"And you care so much for elves, do you? You who cannot even accept—"
As they'd argued, I willed my staff back into a blade. The fire of it blazing white with heat. Laren and Asaala readied themselves to perform the Wrath of Heaven. The spirits rushed forward to strike as one. With a grunt, I swung my sword into the creature's leg. Feeling all of the spirits bolstering the magic of my blades, they sliced through and severed the leg. Imshael bellowed as he began to topple.
I felt the air charge with the Wrath and Fade-stepped away. A mighty pillar of light slammed down from above, engulfing everything. The spirits disappeared a moment, my blizzard dissipated, the Veil grew thick. As the Wrath dispersed, we found Imshael gone.
"Is it over?" Amelia questioned. As soon as the words left her mouth, darkness engulfed her. Engulfed them all.
"Enough!" Imshael's voice demanded, "Enough of all this! I am not the enemy! I made you a generous offer and you refused, so ifyou won't be smart, be afraid!"
From the sentient darkness a creature of unspeakable horror emerged. An amalgamation of something arachnid, corpse and arcane horror. I realized the spider-like appendages that sprouted from its back had been what stopped my attacks before, they'd just been hidden beyond the Veil. They lifted Imshael up until its feet no longer touched the ground and then it…began to levitate. "What in the Maker's name is that?"
"Imshael is in essence desire," Intent spoke from my side, "but far more than that. It believes it is a spirit of choice. Therefore, it has the choice to be whatever it chooses. Now? It is Fear."
Imshael let out a horrid screech, flinging its hands out. Assurance rushed to stand before me, letting out a war cry as he shielded me. "Have faith, Fadewalker! Imshael means to subdue you all with your greatest fears! It will feed off the terror! You must help the others!"
Imshael was claiming the others, capturing them in the darkness. The Red Templars cut those within reach and rendered helpless down. Samson commanded his men to let him deal with Solana and Cullen himself. They're going to die! They're all going to die!
"The armor, Fadewalker," Prudence spoke as Imshael cackled gleefully, the gap between us nearly closed, the pain of its nearness threatening to overwhelm me. "It is time."
Taking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and pulled on the Fade. I felt as the magical armor crawled into being across my skin. Every piece spreading and connecting, the Fade-born metal swirling as I opened my eyes. In my right hand, the new sword burned impossibly hotter; a blazing fire of brightest, purest white. In my left hand my spectral blade sang into being. Lastly, the helm spread from my brow to meet the rest. As it did, I felt the Veil thin around me; whispers on the air with my every movement. My mana replenished and then overflowed; surging and surging until I thought it would overwhelm me.
"Do not be afraid," Assurance spoke as he appeared beside me, "And do not doubt. You are Hope. Fear cannot abide Hope."
With little more than a thought, I reached across the Veil to find the fearlings, demons serving Imshael, weaving webs of fears within the minds of those who still lived. I felt their fear, saw what Imshael fed upon. Each one, I called to, turning a fear into a hope. The fear of death into the hope of sacrifice. The fear of failure into the hope of success. I rallied them all, burning away the dark.
I reached Solana. There was so much fear within her. The fear that she had betrayed me; the fear that Samson was beyond saving; the fear that she was going to die. I touched her mind within the Fade.
"Forgive me, Sol. It was wrong to hurt you. I understand what it is to love. I forgive you. Try, Sol, for there is always hope."
My mind returned to my body just as Imshael pulled back its taloned hand to slash my jugular. The others let out a war cry. Cullen bellowed that animalistic roar. Amelia, Laren, Asaala and Michel tumbled out of the darkness. Amelia came to a knee and shot arrow after arrow. Laren, Asaala and Michel's blade sliced off the demon's arachnid legs. One impaled Michel in the chest.
"Xebenkeck! Gaxkang! Give me strength!" Imshael cried as his power surged.
The magic of the Fade poured into me like a raging river slamming into a dam. Flames licked across my body, pure white and blistering hot though they did not burn me. The very air rippled as the heat devoured the cold. Snow turned to rain. The ground beneath me became scorched. A torrid wind howled as I poured as much mana as I dared into a great spell. "Get out of here!" I screamed at the others.
Imshael swiped, I thrust my blades into its chest. My barrier burst, encasing much of Imshael in ice. The claws sank into me, the pain of the contact beyond imagining, yet unlike that of a normal demon. My mana reached its peak and I drew all of it to me.
"Really? Really? Now you're just overreacting," Imshael hissed.
With a cry, I unleashed the firestorm. A massive pillar of flame slammed down from the heavens, engulfing everything around me. It swirled, the roar of the fiery gale deafening. Red Templars tried to rush to Imshael's aid as Samson commanded them to rush me, but they screamed as they melted upon the stone as if they were made of wax instead of lyrium. Imshael's flesh bubbled and charred as it screeched.
With a final roar, the firestorm consumed the demon before dissipating. The creature gone, the song too disappeared, releasing the elves. I unfroze them. Those still alive recovered swiftly, shaking their heads to dispel the daze, before they rushed into the fray.
Before I could take a moment to breathe, Laren shouted as she pointed towards where the rest of the battle was taking place, "Lieutenant! The Commander!"
Solana stood before Samson, only he and a few Red Templars remained. Her fire was gone, his armor negating her magic. Behind her was Cullen. Solana put her hand out to Samson, pleading.
The only tell was a tightening of his jaw.
I Fade-stepped, but it wouldn't be fast enough. With his shield, he bashed Solana out of the way, sending her crashing into a nearby stone wall. She fell to the ground in a heap, unmoving. Samson raised his blade, crimson eyes full of bitter hatred staring down at Cullen. Cullen made for his sword, it and his shield some distance from him. Samson stomped on Cullen's wrist, breaking it. Cullen let out an angry noise of pain.
I tumbled out of my Fade-step, Samson's armor like a solid wall when I got to its perimeter of effect. I held my armor in place, but it took all the mana I had left. A Red Templar swung at me. I dipped and brought one of my metal blades up to behead the creature.
The others were still fighting. Laren, Asaala, Amelia, Barris, Henry and Wilhelm were all trying to get to Cullen, but were caught by more Red Templars. Samson picked Cullen up by the throat.
"You once thought yourself above me, Dog Lord," Samson spit. "Now, I have power you can't even imagine. You won't stop me. I'm going to kill you and everyone you ever loved. Starting with that pretty elf. Her magic can't save her. Not from me. Neither can you."
Maker! Andraste! What do I do?! It was as if time slowed to a creeping halt. I saw the blade moving, the tip coming closer and closer to Cullen. His eyes found mine.
"Mana purge!" He commanded.
I'd never done it before, but recalled the theory. I felt the magic of the Fade still slamming against the dam that was me, waiting to be unleashed, replenishing quickly because of the armor.
Help me!
Together, the spirits broke the dam—ripping the armor off and forcing that raging river to course through and out of me. A great boom sounded, the force too great. I let out a cry as all the built up mana whooshed out of me. Everyone was blown backwards. Cullen kicked off of Samson in his moment of distraction before the purge hurtled Samson away.
Cullen landed, but before relief could find me, the ground beneath our feet gave way, the force of my strike having cracked the very earth. We hung, suspended in midair a moment before my bones felt as if they would come out of my skin. Alain and the other remaining earth mages did what they could to catch us, but we were falling too fast.
I reached for the armor, but the purging of mana left me far weaker than I had been. I felt the weight of the power, my mortal body too tired to bear it. I pushed past the exhaustion and the pain, my mind slipping into the Fade. I felt the others, reached for them, before letting out a grunt of effort as I willed a massive barrier into place around us all and above us. Just in time as we hit the ground beneath.
The battle was far from over as the earth above us buckled, falling into the crevice. My head was pounding, blackness on the edges of my vision. I heard voices shouting, but all my attention was focused on the debris falling that would crush us all beneath it.
Maker. Andraste. Give me strength!
With that prayer, I threw my hands up, pulling on every last drop of mana afforded to me by the armor. My barrier caught the weight of the earth crashing down on us, I nearly buckling at the heaviness. I felt the warmth of blood flowing from my nose, my ears, my eyes as my heart beat madly. I couldn't stop until I was certain the debris had stopped falling. My bones strained with the weight, my barrier thinning. Just when I thought I'd break, an earthen barrier crashed into place beneath my own, thick enough to defend us. The last of my strength leaving me, I collapsed, unconscious.
…
I awoke to the sensation of a gloved hand caressing my cheek. "You were brilliant, beloved," Cullen praised, his voice soft. I nearly cried in relief.
I blinked my eyes open. I was upon a cot, the canvas of a tent above my head, sunlight brightening the fabric. I heard voices beyond. I did not seem to be in the infirmary tent. I met his eyes to find them molten and a gentle smile on his lips. He had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing serious. I pressed his palm against my skin. "How many did we lose?"
His smile fell. "Far too many."
A weight settled in my chest. "Who did we lose?"
Anger flitted across his features. "Several of the mages and templars. Nearly half the soldiers."
So many gone. Maker! Oh, Maker! "Was it…it was my fault, wasn't it?"
He took my hand with his good one, the other was casted and bound to his chest. "Do not blame yourself."
"How many did I kill when Imshael had control? While I fought her? With the mana purge?"
He held my cheek. "You are not to blame. You did everything you could and saved as many as you were able."
There was something beneath his words. Something he wasn't telling me. "And Solana?" He looked away. I sat up, ignoring the soreness in my body, panic gripping me. "Where is Solana, Cullen?"
He met my eyes, his face full of empathy. "We can't find her."
"No!" I croaked. "Tell me it's not true! Tell me she isn't dead!"
He pulled me to his chest, his hand cradling my head. "She never got up after Samson struck her. Some of the keep is still intact and we're sifting through the rubble. We've found…some of the others. A few who survived, but…"
"But what?" I demanded, tears hot on my cheeks.
"There is little rubble left to sort through," he murmured.
I buried my face in his fur and wept, guilt heavy in my chest.
…
"Lieutenant-Commander!" Cullen's voice called.
I looked up from healing Michel. We'd returned to the camp near the Tower of Bone. Harding, who'd remained at the tower during our assault on Suledin, had seen to getting it into order. Tents repaired or erected, soldiers and scouts seeing to duties, food and water supplied.
The few survivors from the mine were separated from the rest of us, being kept under observation for any signs of red lyrium contamination. The few mages who'd escaped the ordeal relatively unscathed, myself included, saw to the healing of all the injured. Cullen, whose wrist I'd been able to magically heal, and the remaining templars and soldiers were still excavating the debris. We'd escaped via some tunnels beneath the keep that led back out into the mine. We'd found more bodies and pieces of bodies to help identify those we'd lost that remained unaccounted for—except for Solana.
Samson had escaped, clear signs that the few remaining Red Templars had fled while we'd been buried beneath the keep. Cullen had given a sorrowful rage that it had all been for naught. Samson was gone and it seemed Maddox had been no more than bait. Samson was incapable of being fought outright, so to Cullen all we'd accomplished was solidifying that. I reminded him that we put an end to the mining operation, freed people from the mine and put an end to a powerful entity under Corypheus's command. He'd ceded that I was correct, but he still couldn't help feel that it had all been in vain.
We had lost many. I prepared for the news that she'd been found as Cullen strode for me. But instead of empathy in his face, there was rage in his eyes. He waved for me to follow him into his tent. I placed a hand on Michel's shoulder, assuring him I'd return, before going to meet Cullen.
We'd barely stepped inside when he slammed a piece of paper onto a makeshift table. "She's going after Samson! She abandoned us to go after him!"
I took the paper and read the letter Solana had written with magical runes:
Talitha,
Should you find this…know that I am sorry. I have never deserved your friendship. Now, even less so. I should have told you. The Maker spared me and I must use this chance. I will find him. And when I do, you'll be the first to know.
Forgive me.
And know that you are forgiven.
Sol
I met his eyes, fury still alight in them. "If she is willing to track him down, I say let her."
"You cannot be serious?" He balked. "She's inlove with him. What if she tries to reason with him again instead of informing us of his location?
"What if it was you?" I questioned, quietly. "Would you expect me to give up on you?"
The anger didn't leave his face, but he snapped his mouth shut. He looked away. "If I'd become him…yes."
"And you know I wouldn't." He clenched his jaw, but said nothing. "I…have to have faith, Cullen. Faith that if nothing else, she can lead us to him," I murmured. "And if she does find him…" I rubbed my fingers over my palms. "I touched her mind, Cullen. As with you, I may be able to find her again, even at a distance, with the spirits' help and the armor's power." I met his eyes to gauge his reaction.
Despite his anger, his lips tipped. "As I recall, you did the impossible by Fade-stepping all the way from the Approach to Skyhold. Then, you had quite the adventure inside my own mind. This is hardly a revelation."
I gave him a small smile, but it quickly fell. "True." He closed the distance between us, taking my elbows in his hands. "It still frightens me. The power I wield."
"I know," he murmured before he pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I trust you."
I gave a nod and let out a breath. "She'll find him," I assured, "I know it. She will not let him rest after what he did to her."
…
After a few days of regrouping and healing our injured, we returned to the village to find hope restored. The Elfsblood had thawed, our friends from Stone-Bear having arrived with supplies to aid the villagers. We'd searched what remained of Suledin Keep—Cullen had sent word to Skyhold of what had occurred, Josephine had replied saying local nobility would aid in its restoration—and the mine for any clues about Samson.
We'd discovered that Imshael had been experimenting with red lyrium on various organisms though we did not know to what end. Evidence of Mistress Poulin's involvement in the selling of her own people to the templars in exchange for supplies was also uncovered. Cullen intended to arrest the woman for her crimes and have her returned to Skyhold for Ellana's judgment. But we found no clues as to where Samson would go next.
We held a vigil for the fallen. I sent Ghilani—whom I had been able to heal, though she had a scar from Imshael and was in need of rest—with the Avaar to be cared for by Svarah as she'd taken a liking to the wolf. Cullen left the remaining soldiers behind to see to rebuilding the village and setting up an Inquisition posting that would span from the village to the keep. Once we'd seen to everything we could, we made for the Imperial Highway to meet the Inquisition's forces at Lake Celestine. We would march with the rest of them to Griffon Wing Keep before making final preparations before assaulting Adamant and I hadn't discussed what happened at Suledin Keep. He too courteous as to press by asking questions and I still in the process of digesting it all. After so long in the dark, after so long beneath the shadow of Doubt, I'd forgotten what it felt like to be free. To be whole. Everything felt new. The air fresher, colors more vibrant, the sun brighter and the whole of creation more beautiful.
And Cullen…I had thought I knew the depths of my love for him before, but now…now when I looked at him, when he touched me, I burned. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, though I had to admit it was in the best way. I could hardly meet his eyes without wanting to blush. The barest touch made me weak at the knees. His crooked smile, breathy laugh and his endearments caused me to melt.
We'd been riding hard, stopping only when we had to in order to make up for lost time. We were only a few days' ride from Lake Celestine, the stars and moons bright above our heads as we rode along when he came up alongside me. My heart thudded unevenly at his nearness, flitting in my stomach. The others were some distance behind us, meaning we would not be overheard.
"How are you, beloved?" he questioned.
I glanced at him, finding his eyes intent upon me and I fought down the blush threatening to burn in my cheeks. "I'm…not entirely sure to be honest."
He chuckled. "I suppose that would be the case." He paused a moment. "Assurance…he is…did he…"
"They are gone," I murmured, "Purpose and Embrace. And Doubt."
"I am sorry."
I shook my head. "They're not really. They live on in Assurance. They became him."
"And your sword? Or is it a staff?"
"Both," I chuckled before shrugging, "Fade-smithed."
"How is that possible?"
"My best guess? Because I'm a dreamer. And perhaps because of the armor. It is…like a piece of the Fade is always with me. I suppose because it is imbued with the essence of seven spirits." We fell into silence, the horses' hoofbeats the only sound. "Cullen," I began, pulling his eyes to me. I looked away, keeping my gaze fixed on the road before us. "Why didn't you kill me?" My voice was quiet, but not weak. The vision of him on his knees, weapons on the ground, hands spread out. His words as he called to me played in my mind. "You…why did you do that?"
He was silent for a long moment. "Purpose came to me."
I looked at him in surprise. "He did?"
He nodded. "He told me you were in there. Fighting. That you had a plan. And I saw you break through when Ghilani attacked Imshael." Burnished bronze met my eyes. "You asked me to trust you. I vowed that I would."
I swallowed thickly and nodded. "If I ever did fall, will you promise me that you would be the one to end it?"
He gripped his reins tightly. "I stand by your vow: you will do everything in your power to never let that come to pass. Would I do it? Only to spare you from becoming a monster because I know how it would devastate you. But you must maintain your promise. And in that moment? You did." He cleared his throat. "How are you faring now that Doubt is gone? What is Assurance like?'
My heart beating rapidly in my chest and a blush crawling up my cheeks, I cleared my throat as I thought of how to voice how I'd been feeling since overcoming Doubt. "I, um, all I can say is that I feel…different. With Doubt gone, I mean. I mean, I've felt different…well, for quite some time, but this…is a different…different." I winced at my own words. "I-I mean…I'll just stop talking now."
He chortled. "It's alright, love. Eloquently or no, I would like to know."
I gave him an embarrassed, if not grateful, look. "I'm not sure how to say it. I just…think I might finally feel like…me."
He met my eyes and I swallowed thickly. "I believe I understand."
There was weight in those words and I studied his face in the moonlight. Of course he would understand, even if I couldn't put words to how I felt. He would understand better than anyone. "Thank you."
"Now," he breathed, a hardness coming into his features, "We must prepare ourselves for Adamant."
"Are you…ready?" I probed.
He nodded. "We've been preparing for this. It will not be like Haven."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"I know. It is a promise. One I intend to keep."
"I can't help but feel as if…that if we lose people…it'll be my doing. Is it like that for you?"
"If I ever lose the ability to understand the gravity of the position I hold, relieve me of command. I feel the weight of everyone under my leadership. I do not send them into danger easily, but if the Grey Wardens have fallen…if Corypheus is using them to bring forth a demon army…it is what must be done. I will do my utmost to protect as many of them as I can."
I studied him then from under my lashes. He stared ahead, a fierce determination on his face. He sat proud atop his horse, his armor gleaming in the light of the moon. His sword at his side, his shield strapped to his back. I'd worried Suledin Keep would cause him to feel defeated, but he seemed even more determined now. A quiet rage within him aimed at our enemy.
"Will you tell me about Samson?" I questioned, voice gentle. "I know we talked about him before, but…in your memories…I saw you give him coin. Appeal to Meredith on his behalf. Is there…is there more to it, Cullen?"
His jaw clenched before he sighed. "When I first arrived…he looked out for me. He was older, more experienced, less wary of mages and knew Meredith well—as well as anyone knew Meredith, that is. He tried to warn me about her, but…I was too angry. And I thought him weak." He shifted in his saddle.
"He struggled with feeling guilty about our duties. It's why he passed letters for Maddox. And the little ones…." He sighed heavily. "I was the wrong person to appeal to for those feelings. I wanted every mage locked away, it didn't matter their age or circumstances. But moreover, he was addicted to lyrium. Even more so than most. When Meredith expelled him from the Order, when she put Maddox through the Rite, it broke him. But he still longed to be a templar. That much was clear. Despite my anger, at the time, I was not so hard-hearted as I became." He was quiet a moment. "But how he came to where he is now? He came to me when he and another templar, Ser Thrask, tried to help a group of mages and templars depose Meredith. Hawke was involved—they'd taken Bethany. One of the mages turned to blood magic. Samson believed that perhaps Meredith's perceived paranoia had merit after all. I called it a convenient change of heart." His lips twitched despite his anger. "Hypocrite that I am, I seem to have fallen to the same ailment, but in the opposite direction." I gave a small chuckle. "Samson was never…a perfect templar, but I…I might have—I did—consider us friends at one point…and I never thought he'd fall so far. Bowing to a darkspawn? Red lyrium? Working with blood mages like the Venatori? I'm afraid I have no explanation for it."
"You can't think of any reason why Samson would turn to Corypheus? To red lyrium? Why he would hate the Chantry?"
Cullen looked away. "No reason that is justified."
"We'll find him," I promised, "and stop him."
…
We reached the lake a few days later. The whole of the Inquisition's forces met our eyes. Armor glinted in the light reflecting off of Celestine, the camp buzzing with life. Soldiers were shouting at each other, squires and pages running to and fro, laundresses hard at work and the smell of food roasting over the fires dotting around the camp.
As we drew closer, a shout rang out for Cullen's approach. The whole of the army came to a halt and turned to salute him. He answered, setting them all at ease and back to their duties. Stable hands came to take our horses to feed and water them before brushing them down. They'd be returned to Stone-Bear as our own mounts had traveled with the army.
A soldier directed Cullen to Ellana's tent, which was the largest amongst them all. He waved for me to follow. As we made our way through the camp, the magnitude of what we were about to do—what we were about to face—started to weigh on my shoulders. But Cullen was right, we were ready.
I saw it in the way the soldiers went through their practice drills, with focus and determination. I saw it too in the efficiency and professionalism with which the soldiers were conducting themselves. At Skyhold, there was always a touch of lightheartedness to the people under Cullen's command. But not here. Here they were soldiers. Armed, trained and ready to fight. It both encouraged and saddened me.
"Commander," Ellana greeted as Cullen lifted the tent flap, "Lieutenant-Commander."
Ellana was inside along with Rylen, Cassandra, Evelyn and Hawke. Leliana and Josephine had remained at Skyhold. The tent was comfortably but modestly furnished. The group stood surrounding a makeshift table upon which sat a rough map of Adamant drawn by one of our drafters with Evelyn and Hawke's direction. Evelyn was in Grey Warden armor, her hair braided down her back, her forest-green eyes flicking over the fortress. Hawke's eyes flicked to Cullen and then to me, calculating, as we approached.
"Inquisitor," we greeted in unison.
"Commander," Ellana addressed Cullen, "For what it's worth, I am sorry Samson got away."
He inclined his head. "As am I."
"But eliminating Imshael was a decisive victory. From Lieutenant-Commander Talitha's report I believe the removal of that threat will be to our benefit. I regret only the lives lost in the effort."
"As do I, Inquisitor. I will ensure their loss will not be in vain."
"It seems Captain Amell has abandoned us for a personal vendetta, Lieutenant?" Ellana questioned, hostility in her voice, as she looked at me.
"Solana is going after Samson, yes," I spoke, "When she returns, she will no longer be Captain."
Ellana looked surprised at this. "I expected more of a fight."
I shook my head. "She's chosen her path. While I understand, I cannot abide a captain who would abandon us on the eve of battle, no matter the reason."
"Who do you recommend to take her place?"
"Rion."
Ellana nodded her head. "Commander? Do you approve?"
"I do. Rion has proven himself."
"Very good," Ellana gave another nod. "Now, to business."
Briefly, they caught us up on how the march had fared as well as the strategy they'd been working on during their travel. Cullen offered a few suggestions, pointing out weak spots in their formations for the soldiers, better ways of maneuvering the troops and more straightforward ways of breaching the fortress. They discussed logistics, the importance of getting Ellana in as swiftly as possible, who needed to accompany her and what needed to be done once we reached Griffon Wing Keep before pressing on to Adamant.
"What about Fenris and the others?" Cullen questioned, "It is vital that Adamant's supplies be cut off should we be unable to breach the fortress. If all else fails, we need to starve them out."
"How long exactly do believe the assault will take, Commander?" Evelyn questioned, "Could we not just get a small team inside the same way Hawke and I entered while using the main assault as a distraction?"
"That is the general plan, but I do not think it wise to leave the Inquisitor stranded within unsupported," Cullen argued, "It's been some time since your reconnaissance. I cannot, in good conscience, send the Inquisitor inside blindly nor without the full support of her army at her back. It is best we hit the fortress head on, in unison, and send the Inquisitor in the proverbial front door. Any other option leaves her at risk of being captured or worse."
"Besides, they know we're coming. Our scouts reported eyes on us. Any chance we might've had at slipping inside without them suspecting we could try, disappeared with their scouts," Ellana pointed out before looking to Cullen. "Fenris was successful. They're headed for Griffon Wing as we speak and should arrive shortly before we do."
"Good," Cullen nodded, "We will need to ensure our own supply lines are well guarded."
"Leliana is already putting her people into place and I sent word to our allies to be ready in case we needed aid. Rylen saw to our outposts as we made our way here." Ellana explained before sighing. "I think that's as much as we can do for now. Get some rest and we'll be off in the morning. We need to press hard for Adamant. We cannot afford for the Wardens to panic and hurry this ritual."
"We will stop them," Cullen vowed.
…
Over the next ten days, we marched. The lushness of the Dales and Orlais quickly giving way to the harsh desert of the Approach. Sand blew everywhere, a rare plant here and there and bits of crumbling Imperial architecture. My mind went back to all those months ago trudging through the sand alongside Solas as we headed for Solasan. So much had happened on the other side of this desert, and it seemed that would be the case once more.
I turned atop Mouse to look upon the army both before and behind us. At the battalion. Where once Doubt would whisper words to stir fear of failure, I found silence. As I looked at the people devoted to our cause, I felt pride. They knew what lay before them and yet, here they were, marching. Some marching to their deaths.
I clenched my jaw in determination. This time…this time I would do my utmost to protect as many as I possibly could. My magic and my armor were fully in my control now. I looked to Cullen. My Commander had ordered me to use my magic. Just as Drakon had sanctioned the mages to unleash the full might of their magic upon the Blight millennia ago. We needed everything to face down our enemy.
I would need everything to face down this enemy. I would face an army of demons. No matter how far I'd come in my resistance, I knew even I could not withstand an army.
I looked to Ellana. To all those I cared about. I could not afford to falter. I could not afford to doubt.
"You've no reason to doubt," Assurance said, "We are with you."
The days passed in a comforting monotony. We'd push ourselves as far as we would dare before halting and setting up camp. Cullen established guard rotations to protect the siege equipment. We'd eat, rest, and sleep only to rise and do it all over again. With each day we came closer, anticipation became more and more palpable amongst the soldiers.
When we finally caught sight of Griffon Wing Keep, that anticipation grew to a peak. The plan was to see to final preparations, check over the siege equipment, have all weapons and armor cared for and repaired if needed and for supplies to be restocked before we pressed on to Adamant in the morning.
The majority of the army would be camped outside the fortress walls, though no less defended as Cullen had ordered ballistae mounted on the keep's outer walls. The higher-ranked officers and Ellana, along with her inner circle, would all be camped inside. With an efficiency that I was sure made Cullen proud, the soldiers set to work. Soon enough, we were headed within the fortress walls. Mouse was taken to be stabled as I would not be riding her into battle.
"Who ordered that a lion be carved into the rock, Curly?" Varric called to Cullen, "That's got to mean something, right? After all, we're not Orlesian and you're the only one of us who wears a lion helm?"
"Nobody, Master Dwarf," Rylen replied, "I decided upon it myself. An expression of my devotion to our illustrious Commander. He's forgotten me, it's true, but I'll never move on. If he's going to banish me out to this Maker-forsaken desert, I'd at least like something that reminds me of him."
"I told you not to do that, Rylen," Cullen growled.
"And then ye sent me a stonemason," Rylen pointed out, "The lad was eager to use his skills to show his devotion to our cause and didn't feel that simple repairs were enough."
"Maker's breath," Cullen swore.
"We get bored in this blighted desert, Commander," Rylen ribbed, "Need to entertain ourselves somehow."
"I rather like it," I chimed in earning a wicked grin from Rylen that pulled his tattoos.
"Thank ye, my lady," he inclined his head, "at least someone appreciates my vision."
I took in the mighty fortress before us. It was a sight to behold. The great stone walls, the iron reinforcements, the metal griffons sat atop the walls. Additions had been made using the same symbol that comprised Cullen's markers back on the map of Thedas at Skyhold.
Great green canvases sprawled from the highest point of the fortress to the lower bailey providing shade to the stalls that greeted us as we passed through the iron gate. Everything was orderly and the soldiers efficient. A sergeant could be heard shouting at recruits over the noise of the bustling lower bailey, his words assuring the men and women under his command would be in fighting shape in no time. Rich flags unfurled in the wind. Despite his words, it was obvious Rylen had taken great pride and effort in making Griffon Wing Keep worthy of the Inquisition's army, her Commander and her Inquisitor.
"You've done beautifully, Captain," I complimented.
"Ye hear that, Commander? 'Beautifully'," Rylen chided.
"Fine. You'll have that supply of ale you requested. Doubled. When you return to Skyhold, a week's leave. Paid. First choice of songs at the Herald's Rest. Is that acceptable, Captain?"
"Perfectly so," Rylen took my hand and kissed my knuckles, "Thank ye, my lady."
"Of course, Captain. Even if he won't admit it, you've earned it."
"Once we see to Adamant, Commander, I want the whole of Griffon Wing to be awarded with festivities before we return to Skyhold," Ellana added.
"Very well, Inquisitor," Cullen sighed.
The rest of the day was spent poring over the map of Adamant. There were tense moments as arguments came about. Everyone could feel the weight of what we were about to do.
The Wardens had to be stopped. None of us knew what awaited us within Adamant. All of us knew time was of the essence, but our hands were tied as to how long it would take to breach the fortress. We had the siege engine. Catapults. Our soldiers.
Eventually, we'd come to a consensus: Getting Ellana inside and to where they were trying to open the Veil was the top priority. Evelyn would lead soldiers up ladders once the troops were able to get them up the walls. Once the gate was breached, Ellana would head inside with Hawke and her inner circle. The rest would bring up the rear.
"What about the battalion?" I questioned, "We are facing demons after all. You'll need templars. And healers on the field."
Ellana looked to Cullen. "What would you suggest, Commander?"
"The Lieutenant-Commander is right," he paused as he studied the map. "Your first priority is helping to clear a path for the siege engine. Hawke and the Warden-Commander believe there are runes upon the door to prevent magic from bringing it down. The Wardens will likely throw rocks and have archers to slow its progression. Have your mages provide barriers and cover. The templars can assist the Warden-Commander against the demons. Their ability to rally could be sorely needed throughout the army. We should divide the battalion amongst the platoons."
"Where would you have me?" I asked.
"Given that you are nearly a battalion unto yourself, Lieutenant-Commander," he began, and I could tell he was forcing his face to stay neutral, "I want you to take Alain, Asaala, Laren and Amelia to dig beneath this wall." He pointed to a section in the outer walls that Evelyn and Hawke believed to be somewhat weak and had been relatively unguarded. "Find the rift or wherever they're weakening the Veil. Clear a path for the Inquisitor. You'll reunite with the rest of the battalion here." His finger moved. "I need the battalion to cover the Inquisitor's advance and keep the path clear for the bulk of the army to get inside."
"So you are sending in a small team?" Evelyn questioned.
"It is always best to have contingency plans," Cullen offered, "Having multiple points of entry—and exit—is never a bad plan."
We spent the rest of the time discussing signals and communication should something change. In time, Ellana called for everyone to break and see to themselves. Tomorrow would come and it was better if we were as rested as possible. We made our way to the tents and tables that served as an open refectory for dinner before I looked for my bedroll.
…
I kept tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep again without thinking about everything that would or could happen during the assault. How many would we lose? How many demons would there be? Would I lead the battalion true? What if Cullen got hurt? Ellana? Any of our friends? What if it was my fault because I couldn't stand against the demons? What if I failed? What if I fell?
What if, what if, what if. With a defeated sigh, I threw the covers off before wrapping them around myself and quietly padded through the numerous bedrolls and out of the tent.
The uppermost level of the keep was where the majority of us were sleeping as it was the most well-guarded, unless a dragon attacked. Ellana had said they'd spotted a high dragon, but she'd kept her distance and there'd been no sign of Corypheus's dragon. Cullen had his own tent, being the Commander and all, but it was still up here with the rest of us.
The night air was chilly, the sound of the wind caressing the sand causing the dunes to make a delicate tinkling sound as the sand cascaded down them. Murmurings could be heard from the soldiers on guard. Braziers and cooking fires were lit. The stars and moons nearly as bright as the sun.
I was torn between going to study the landscape from the parapets or visiting the tent which held the rough map of Adamant to review the plan once again. I, regretfully, had not brought my sketchbook with me, but the beauty of the desert and the haunting dark of the Abyssal Rift were both enough to stir sketches within my mind and distract me. But, alas, the pull to review the plan once more won out. I tried to keep to the shadows so as not to disturb the soldiers, but I found I was not the only one seeking their cover.
"Walking away from you," the deep voice of Fenris sounded, "is one of my greatest regrets, Marian."
"And now?" Marian's voice responded, a huskiness to it that told me I should walk in the opposite direction.
I turned, quickly, to give them privacy. Doubling back, I took the long way to the tent. I half expected to find Cullen within, poring over the map, but the tent was empty. I lit a small flame in my palm, relishing the ease with which it now came, before lighting a few candles.
I looked at the markers indicating the different squadrons. Ellana would go in the front with her team, while I and the others would infiltrate from another area. We would meet at a central landing after I had seen to Ellana's path to the rift cleared. She would press on ahead while I would cover her advance and aid the soldiers should they need it. I kept going over and over it in my mind.
"Were you unable to sleep as well?" Cullen's voice sounded as a cool breeze sighed at the tent flap opening.
I turned toward him, unsurprised that he was awake and dressed in his casual armor. The candlelight danced off his cuirass and colored his eyes bronze in their dim light. There was something in his gaze that made my heart beat just a little faster.
"No rest for the wicked, as they say," I murmured, pulling my blanket tighter around myself.
He chortled as he came to stand next to me. Indulging me, he walked me through the plan again. He was patient, slow and thorough. I took comfort in his confidence. He knew things could change, but he believed in our people. As we fell into silence once more, my eyes upon the map, he placed a light hand at my waist and pulled me into his side. A swift brush of his lips to my temple. "There is no solace to be found here, love." I turned to him as he held a hand out. "Walk with me? There's something I think you'd like to see. At the very least, it will take your mind off of things."
I thought about teasing him, but the way he was looking at me, the offer of his hand, caused my mouth to go dry. So instead, I simply nodded and placed my fingers in his gloved palm. He tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and led me across the keep as if I were a lady dressed in the finest gown instead of in my nightclothes wrapped in a scratchy wool blanket.
We passed by a few soldiers on patrol, they saluting Cullen and giving me a slight bow of their heads before I heard them whispering animatedly. The tips of my ears burned at it. Though Cullen had expressed a want to avoid gossip before, he seemed unbothered by it now. I peeked at him through my lashes. His ears were also red. Well, mostly unbothered. I thought he'd take me down the numerous stairs to the lower level, but we passed by them. Instead, he brought me to the base of a ladder.
"I'll climb first," he stated, "Keep your eyes closed once you reach the top."
I quirked a brow at him but nodded. I watched him climb, still unsure how he moved so fluidly in his armor. Once he was at the top, he gestured for me to follow, holding his hand out. I strung my makeshift cloak across my shoulders and ascended. I took his hand once I was high enough and felt as he took my waist to help me the rest of the way.
"Keep your eyes closed," he whispered, his lips barely touching my cheek causing gooseflesh to erupt in their wake. Keeping ahold of me, he walked me forward. I let him guide me, his hands gentle until he released me, his fingers resting on my low back. "Alright, now you may look."
The heavens met my eye. Like a painting so masterfully crafted upon an inky, black canvas. A polychromatic palette where deep, rich blues and greens gave way to brilliant golds and purples. Sat within them like dazzling jewels upon lush velvet was a pattern of shining stars. The Maker's own canvas left me with a sense of bittersweetness so powerful, tears came to my eyes.
"Blessed Andraste, Cullen," I breathed, "It's beautiful." He said nothing, only resting his fingers on my low back as he allowed me to look for as long as I desired. "Is that…is it a constellation? Toth?"
"Archdemon of the Third Blight," he confirmed, "According to Dorian, the Dragon of Fire."
I straightened and looked upon the apparatus that had let me look upon the heavens. "Is this one of the astrariums Ellana has mentioned?"
"Yes," he said when I met his eyes. I swallowed thickly at the warmth in them. He cleared his throat. "I thought you might like it."
"Very much so," I assured before cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."
He held my hand fast against his skin. "I know there is no way of knowing what we will face once the siege begins, nor how long it will take to breach the walls, but I wanted to give you a moment of reprieve before I…before I have to send you into danger." He closed his eyes a moment, the emotion he was really feeling breaking through.
"Cullen, what's wrong?"
He took something out from his cuirass. "His Ma—Alistair, sent me this. And I cannot help but empathize. "I took the folded letter from his hand and read it.
Commander Cullen,
To be a Warden again and able to march with you upon my lost brothers and sisters. If only for the chance to beg them to see reason. Instead, my highly overvalued hindquarters must remain here. "A king cannot march with an army into the kingdom of a rival nation without provoking war" and all that. So, that which I value most in this world must go. The Wardens, after all, mean a great deal to the both of us. She will do what she always does—fix everything or try to. I must ask something selfish of you: do not let her. We have endured too much and been apart too long only for me to lose her to your Inquisition.
Take care of her. For me.
Alistair
"I cannot guarantee her safety," he admitted, "nor yours. Yet, I must send you both into danger. Just when…" He closed his eyes, the pain in his furrowed brow piercing my heart. "Andraste, preserve me. A demon army, Meira."
I grabbed his gloved fingers and squeezed them. "There's nothing to worry about," I assured, pulling his coin out from beneath my shirt. "I have luck on my side, remember?"
Despite himself, he chortled, his face softening. "That's less comforting than I'd hoped."
His knuckles brushed my chest as he took my hands between his own, the coin at the center of our joined hands. He pressed a kiss to my fingers, his eyes never leaving mine. There was a spark in them that made my knees weak. I pulled him into an embrace, his arms wrapping around me as his fur swallowed me. I was engulfed by his scent and his warmth as he held me tight to him.
"For just a moment at Suledin…I feared I'd lost you. And I…I…" I could hear the pain in his voice. His arms tightened around me.
"Cullen," I said, my voice thick, "I'm sorry."
He let go only a little to press his forehead to mine. "Whatever happens, you will come back."
I put my hand on his cheek, tears in my eyes. My heart burning with the love I felt for him. That fire blazing bright and free of the damper I hadn't realized was there. His eyes met mine, brilliant amber in the firelight.
"The thought of losing you…I can't." He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as his hands came up to gently cup my face.
"I should not speak like this on the eve of battle. But I…I—"
"Shh, Cullen," I hushed, "I understand."
He kissed me then, urgent. His fingers wove into my hair as he slanted his mouth over mine. I flattened my hands against his cuirass, the metal cool beneath my skin. When he broke away, I sighed his name.
Our gazes met. That fire burned a little hotter at what was in his darkened eyes. My lips parted, his gaze flicking to them.
Grabbing his fur, I pulled him down to capture his lips with mine. My fingers wove into his hair, silky against my skin, as I pressed my body against him. His lips were warm, mine were firm as I urged him to part his. He obeyed. My knees weakened as he deepened the kiss, my lips softening as he poured all his love into it.
We'd kissed numerous times, all of them enough to leave me breathless. But this…free of Doubt. It was electrifying.
He groaned in his throat, and I found the sound made my entire body tremble in exhilaration. No dark memories rose to dampen the moment. The warmth of our shared intensity was radiating to my toes.
He pressed harder, though his lips stayed soft, as his hands traveled from my back. My nails grazed his skin. His fingers dug into the swell of my hip. A gasp escaping as the leather of his glove brushed the point of my ear. He broke away, our ragged breaths mingling, before he pressed one last deep, lingering kiss. I was breathless, my heart pounding and lips tingling.
He held my face in his hands, and I slowly blinked my eyes open. "I love you," he murmured before giving me a soft, chaste kiss.
"I simply cannot fail now," I teased, though the shakiness in my voice gave me away.
"No, you cannot," he chortled before brushing his nose against mine.
"We will be victorious, Commander," I vowed.
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