The Unbreaking

by LadyAubade

A novelized version of DA:I centering around the love story of Meira Neria Lavellan, formerly of Kinloch Hold, and Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition's Forces. In a world determined to keep them broken and apart, they fight to be together. Cameos, blushes, stammering and fluff abound. *Updates Monthly*

79. The High Quarter

WARNINGS: Brief violence, slight NSFW

MEIRA

I chewed my lip as I sat in the carriage across from Leliana and Josephine. The two had fallen asleep, Josephine's head on Leliana's shoulder. Ellana had also fallen asleep, her head in my lap. I couldn't rest, too much on my mind to allow sleep.

Solana had been hurt by Ellana's order, even though she eventually understood. I couldn't forget the pain that had flashed in her eyes before she'd left. Barris had sworn to look after her, saying he had failed her—and me—by not trying harder. I prayed they both would find their stride as they were in the field.

But that was not all that was bothering me. The shadow of myself was growing restless again. I had heard her whispers, her vile. I could more easily block her out than before, but I feared the longer she was allowed to fester, the more she would grow in strength.

I was unsure whom to speak with concerning her. Prudence had warned that without her I could not wield the armor, but what if the worst would happen and she gain control of it? Could I keep her at bay long enough to face our enemies? Surely there was a way to wield the armor and be rid of her? But could I speak with anyone about it…about her…about what she was?

Cole would know already, but the spirit wouldn't be able to guide me to the answers I sought. Solas had an inkling, but had been so courteous as not to ask. Dorian would no doubt have ideas, but I did not know the man well enough to trust him with something so personal. And Cullen…

When I ask you to be my wife, there will be a ring. But take this as an assurance of the future. A prayer that our fortune will endure and a promise of what is to come.

My hand went to the coin that now lay against my heart. I had asked Da to attach a small ring to it so that I could turn the coin into a necklace. Da had smithed a delicate chain to hang the coin from. Pulling it from my shirt, I looked at it.

When I ask you to be my wife…

My eyes flicked to where he rode beside our carriage. Butterflies flit in my belly as I looked at him. Be my wife…Even though he had told me it was his intention, even though I knew the fierceness of his love for me…

I want you to be my wife and no less. There is nothing selfish about what you long for. I want what is best for you.

When I had asked him to court me, I trusted that he would understand, but I doubted that anyone—least of all him—could truly want me forever. I had been broken, used, discarded and unwanted all my life. And though he had been broken, been hurt and grown used to a life alone, he was choosing to love me with reckless abandon.

You do make me happy. Immensely happy.

And if you lose him? What then? You'll fade into darkness and I will emerge. If he breaks you? You will not be able to be whole again. Will you listen to me then?

I studied him in the late sun. I let out a breath. I have to trust him. I have to have faith. Fool.

Molten amber met my gaze. He gave me that crooked grin, eyes burning.

You are what is precious to me.

I flushed and looked away. I did not know what it meant to be precious to someone. I knew the love of the Maker, but another mortal? I had only known the fallibility of mortal love. But now? Not only did I have Cullen, but Ellana, my family, Solana and numerous friends within the Inquisition. None were perfect, they never would be, but they cared for me all the same. And in their care, my want to protect them was growing.

This war won't last forever.

No, but how many would we lose before it ended? And would their deaths be worth it? I thought of Minaeve. My heart ached with sorrow as that last memory I had of her was standing defiant in the face of our enemy, half of her body burned away. Would her death be worth it?

Fear was growing, whispering in the back of my mind. And nothing will stand between me and that future. My heart stuttered in my chest as I thought of the animalistic roar he'd emitted when Envy had dragged me away. As I thought of how savagely he fought when the Red Templars tried to feed him red lyrium. The ruthlessness with which he had defended me when Denam, Karras and the others attacked me. The way he worked himself to the bone for the Inquisition—to atone. How far would he go to fight for that future? For that atonement?

I looked to Ellana's sleeping face, to the gloved hand that held the Anchor. It hurts when I use it. Would I lose her to it? It was affecting her, the evidence clear in her eyes. She had no choice but to use it, the rifts dotting Thedas able to be closed only by her. And they had to be closed. Their presence was changing the world around them.

Helisma had been conducting research, research that Minaeve had begun. The tears in the Veil were changing the environments surrounding them. Animals were becoming more aggressive, their normal behaviors altered. Beyond that, despite its closure, the Breach was still impacting the world in its vicinity. How much more was the Anchor affecting my sister? How much of the truth was she keeping from me?

I clenched my jaw. She and Cullen were so much alike in some ways. Both kept the depth of their struggles hidden. He had not told me how great his battle with lyrium was, not until I was standing at his side in the Fade facing down a demon of his own making.

I thanked the Maker that he seemed much improved since and prayed he would tell me if his struggle became difficult again. I prayed Ellana would not carry her burden alone either. They were both so fierce and strong, believing they had to face things alone to be strong.

You do the same. How could they love you if they knew the whole of it?

The ghost of those chains clamped around my wrists. The isolation a yawning dark that beckoned. I closed my eyes as I recalled Shame's true face.

In truth, I did not know if the demon had a true face. For Cullen, I knew it had been different, but for me…it had been her. Neria. Broken, defiled, emaciated, mad.

I have watched you stand before insurmountable darkness, watched it try to swallow you, only for you to shine all the brighter—stronger than before. But you have been molded by them. Forged by them. You should not have to carry such burdens alone.

From what I had witnessed in the Fade, I now understood that he knew far more of what had happened to me in that cell than I had ever wanted him to. Another took from you. Nausea churned in my gut. My shadow self had raged at him, spitting at him vile things. And what had he said? That he didn't deserve me. That I had every right to hate him. How could he want me? Love me?

You are my one love, Meira. No one else will ever know or love me as you do. And because of that, I want to marry you. To be bound to you in the eyes of the Maker for all eternity before I am bound to you in any other way. Nothing less will do. I want all of you, forever. I wish only to give. It is time we see the dawn again. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light.

I didn't understand, and a part of me knew I never would fully, but no matter what doubt whispered to me, I was beginning to understand that I could be assured of his love for me. Could be assured that he would do his utmost to care for me. I looked to him again, finding his eyes still on me, smoldering with intensity.

But love isn't just about happiness. Love is shouldering your burdens, your pain, your fears. Love is holding your hand through failures and successes. Love is praying for your dreams, your hopes. Love is challenging you, supporting you, caring for you, comforting you and seeking only that which is best for you.

Guiding his horse closer to the carriage, he leaned over in his saddle, bending down a little. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "A lot on my mind."

His gold-flecked eyes flicked between my gaze. "Try to rest," he urged, "You look tired."

I chuckled without humor, "Thanks."

His eyes went wide and he flushed. "I-I didn't mean…You look beautiful, you always do…I just meant…Maker's breath," he swore as he rubbed the back of his neck.

I smiled impishly at him. "I know what you meant. I will try." He nodded, flustered, before looking away. "And Cullen?" He met my gaze. "I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured, a small smile on his lips as his eyes turned molten.

I closed my eyes and slipped into sleep. Within the Fade, I trained with Purpose and the others, afraid to dream or drift into the dreams of the others. It seemed only minutes had passed before I was jolted from the sleep, however.

Blinking, I looked around, the others unsure as to what was happening. Leliana was stoic. A calculating look on her face as it went cold.

"Nehraa Qun!" Voices shouted outside the carriage.

"Bull!" Cullen shouted.

"I got it!" Bull roared back before the sounds of a fight followed.

"Katara, bas!"

We clambered out of the carriage, Ellana and I conjuring magical weapons expecting an ambush. Instead, we found Bull against a few would-be attackers were Inquisition soldiers. A few of those who'd ridden with us, leaving the rest of the guard confused. Rain plinked off the assassins' armor as they rushed Bull.

Cullen and the others went to aid him, but Bull flung his large hand out to stop them. One of the assailants threw a dagger, its blade sinking into Bull's exposed shoulder before he threw his battle ax into their chest. They fell dead instantly. Bull killed the others with is bare hands, until only one remained.

He held his chest as he clumsily stood, Bull having punched him. "Ebost issala, Tal-Vashoth!"

Bull growled before he picked the man up. With all his strength, he lifted him before hurling him back to the ground. I winced, my eyes snapping closed as I heard numerous bones crunch. A wet gurgling and gasping came from the man before he fell silent.

"Yeah, yeah, my soul's dust," Bull sneered, "Your's is scattered all over the ground, though, so…" He turned to Cullen.

"Sorry about that, Cullen. Figured they'd attack while on the road, more isolated, but I guess I'm not even worth sending professionals for."

"You knew the assassins were coming?" Cullen questioned.

"Red wanted to see who was spies for the Qun, figured they'd infiltrate our escort," Bull explained, holding the arm below the embedded dagger, "Little change right before we left tipped me off."

"Why was I not informed ahead of time?" Cullen demanded.

"You go through years of Ben-Hassrath training to hide facial expressions when I wasn't looking?" Bull questioned.

Cullen said nothing, his mouth tipping into a frown as we approached the two of them. Bull's mouth twisted into a smirk.

"See? Like that. If we'd warned you, the assassins would've been tipped off."

"Are you alright?" Ellana inquired.

"Fine," Bull grumbled, "Hurt myself worse than this fooling around in bed."

Cullen hid a cough behind his hand, causing Bull's single eye to flick to him, a smirk on his mouth.

"What if they used poison?" Ellana fretted.

"Oh, they definitely used poison," Bull confirmed, wrenching the dagger from his shoulder.

"Saar-qamek, liquid form." He examined his wound.

"If I hadn't been dosing myself with the antidote, I'd be going crazy and puking my guts up right now. As it is, it stings like vashedan, but that's about it."

"What was the purpose of this?" Ellana questioned.

"A formality," Bull stated, "Sending a few guys with blades against me? That's not a hit. Just making it clear that I'm Tal-Vashoth." His face turned dark.

"You've acted like a Tal-Vashoth for years," Ellana pointed out.

"That was just a role," Bull argued, "This is my life! As one of those…I've killed hundreds of Tal-Vashoth in Seheron. Bandits, murderers, bas who turned their back on the Qun. And now I'm one of them."

"No," Ellana challenged, "You're Iron Bull, mercenary captain for the Inquisition."

"I can live with that," Bull conceded.

"Besides," Ellana smirked, "Last we all knew you'd grown rather fond of a certain Vashoth."

I could have sworn Bull blushed at Ellana's words, but he said nothing for a few moments.

"Boss," he began, "Whatever I miss, whatever I regret…this is where I want to be. The Iron Bull is with you."

Ellana nodded. "Thank you."

"Let's get this cleaned up," he stated, turning to the dead and sheathing his weapon down the column of his back.

We took some time to clean up and dispose of the dead. Bull tended to his own wound once that was finished. Rations were passed around and we all took time to stretch our legs. I sat with Ellana and the others; Dorian, Vivienne and Josephine debating fashion.

"So you and the Lady Inquisitor? Interesting," Sera prodded as she munched on a cookie, eyes on Solas.

"Your interest is not my concern," Solas retorted.

"That's alright because I meant boring," Sera sneered, "The elf always takes the elf so bumping bits will meansomething." Sera looked to me.

"Would've been more interesting if Inky were shagging Cully-Wully, at least then it wouldn't have been predictable. Dalish and shem? Quizzy and Commander? That would've raised some brows. But Princess turned his head first." Sera looked at Ellana.

"Mage and helm? At least she isn't boring."

"It is not a topic for discussion," Solas warned, venom in his voice.

"Oh come on, drop 'em and rebuild the empire. Fwoar!"

"You're ridiculous," Ellana breathed a laugh, but there was a reprimand in her voice.

"Not me," Sera denied, "It's him! And you."

"Only one of us is looking sad and foolish, Sera," Solas countered, a smirk twisting his lips.

"Oh, go twang your ears," Sera rolled her eyes, shoveling the rest of her cookie in her mouth.

Solas stood, offering his hand to Ellana, "Come, vhenan."

Ellana and Solas wandered off, hands lacing together before they disappeared within the nearby trees. The others descended into gossiping about the two of them. I watched Cullen as he spoke with his men.

He stood tall, giving instructions and interacting with them in his commanding yet purposeful way. Patient but not indulgent, professional but not without camaraderie. The soldiers would joke and pester him until he called them back to the task at hand.

His eyes flicked to me, a knowing smile pulling his mouth that caused me to blush and look away. The others had grown suspiciously quiet and I looked at them. Feline smiles were on most of their faces, causing me to take a long pull from my waterskin to ignore them.

"You know, you are allowed to flirt with him in front of us all," Dorian encouraged.

"He's busy," I shrugged, "I don't want to distract him."

Dorian chirped a laugh. "Mi cara, I think you distract him anyway."

He nodded at Cullen causing me to look back at him. I caught him looking at me, causing us both to blush and look away.

"You two truly are adorable…and exhausting."

Varric chuckled from where he sat, mechanical pen in hand as he scratched it upon his parchment, a smile on his mouth as he said, "I'll say. If I end up publishing this, I'll have to spice things up for the sake of the readers."

"Why?" Cassandra questioned, "Doesn't the slow build up lend to a more…satisfying climax?" A blush dusted her cheeks at those words.

Varric, Bull, Dorian, Blackwall and Sera howled with laughter, causing Cassandra to blush deeper. Varric still chuckling as he answered, "In more ways than one, Seeker, but…even for a 'the knight and the lady' tale this pace is torture."

"Gentle as a doe, more beautiful than the stars, sorrow hidden beneath a kind smile," Cole murmured, causing the rest of us to go quiet, "But strong—so strong.

"Mind dares to wander to dreams of nights learning every inch of her. What will it be like? What will she be like?

"Starlight burns as she looks at me. Wonder, love, desire in them all enough to make me forget my own name. Maker…

"Heart thumps wildly, gut clenching, a near giddiness daring to overwhelm, breaths threatening to cease as silver meets gold. But not before saying those vows. Vows to entwine my soul to hers until the day I die. Wife. My wife." Cole's eyes met mine from behind his wispy straw-blonde hair.

"He doesn't mind the waiting."

"Sweet Andraste," Cassandra swore, her face nearly as scarlet as my own.

"So he does have blood flowing down there?" Sera questioned, "Thought the way he was fumbling all over you on his desk he didn't know how to use it."

"Oh, now this I've got to hear," Blackwall stated, silver-flecked brows raised as his voice was incredulous.

"That's not…that isn't what happened," I stammered, "It was an accident. We tripped…"

"Sure," Sera rolled her eyes, "Whatever you say, Princess."

"It's the truth!" I urged, face burning.

"Didn't look that way from where I was standing," she sniggered, "Your Cully-Wully was awfully close. Shoulda waited a couple more minutes. Woulda walked in on somethin' worth seeing."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Whatever you say, Sera."

She sniggered a laugh before bounding off to torture someone else. I stood, now uncomfortable. I worked my way into the woods as well, though at a different point than where Ellana and Solas had entered. The trunks were pressed against each other, the thick canopy only adding to the gloomy atmosphere set by the storm above us.

I thanked the Maker that it had not progressed into anything severe, as the storm at Skyhold had worn on me. I had been tempted to knock on Cullen's door and ask to sleep in his bed again knowing I would feel safe in his arms. But I hadn't, too embarrassed and too caught up in dark memories to have been confident enough to do it and explain why.

I sighed heavily as I leaned against a tree and closed my eyes. I had forgotten how frightened I was of thunder while Tranquil. Then the storm had come to Skyhold and I'd found myself huddled beneath my blankets, Ghilani doing her best to comfort me as I passed the night. Hearing something, I blinked my eyes open to find Cullen's golden-brown eyes. I gasped in surprise.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, putting his hands up and taking a step back, "I thought you would have heard me."

Willing my racing heart to calm and failing as I looked at him, I shook my head. "I was…lost in thought."

He smiled then, mischief in it. "Good thoughts I hope."

I couldn't help the smile. "They are now."

His smile broadened, turning feline as he made a noise in his throat. "Good."

He closed the space between us, one hand above my head as his other hand came to rest on my hip. I pulled him closer to me by his sword belt, causing his chest to rumble with laughter. Tasting it on his tongue as his mouth slanted over mine, our lips met in a heated kiss. He broke away after a few long moments, caressing my nose with his own as his hands cupped my face.

"Are you alright, love?" He questioned as his eyes flicked between mine. "Be honest now. You've seemed lost in thought since we left. Haven't pulled your sketchbook out once."

"I suppose I'm just nervous for what lies ahead," I admitted, "For all that lies ahead."

His lips twitched. "Right now, we're supposed to go to the High Quarter and get all prettied up for a masquerade."

"Yes, that's what I'm nervous about," I mumbled.

"Dorian tells me I should be looking forward to it," Cullen stated, sarcasm in his voice.

"I'm fairly certain it will be torture," I grumbled.

He looked at me, his scar pulling. "We know a thing or two about that."

My brows rose before I laughed. "Your sense of humor is rather dark, my knight."

"Laughing at it brings me hope. Shines light where my thoughts were once darkest." His eyes were intent upon me before he leaned to whisper in my ear, lips warm as they brushed along the point. My knees went weak at the sensation.

"You have given me that hope, love. To laugh at the darkness." I looked down, but his gloved fingers tilted my chin up. I met his gentle gaze.

"For if you can smile despite yours, I can laugh despite mine."

I cupped his neck and pulled him to me, his arms holding me against him. "Be brave, my lion. Do more than laugh. Roar at it."

"When the dawn comes," he murmured, "We both will."

He pulled away, but held out his hand. Lacing our fingers we walked back to the rest of our party. Loading up, we pressed on.

…

Vivienne's apartments in the High Quarter were no less opulent than her estate had been. Marble, gold filigree and rich woods were everywhere. Only the finest fabrics graced her furniture, windows and floors. I felt Ellana bristle beside me as elven servants brought out trays of food to greet us in the large dining room.

Trays of sliced bread that had been toasted joined by small glass jars filled with butter, various jams, jellies and marmalades. Flaky pastries topped another tray, some plain, some topped with nuts and some drizzled with what I assumed was chocolate. Fine teapots and cups sat on both ends of the table, steam curling out of the spouts in the early morning sun.

"The attendants will see your things to your rooms," Vivienne informed us, "Each of you will have your own space for your stay. Please do enjoy yourselves. I've business to see to, otherwise I would join you.

"The seamstresses will be arriving tomorrow to begin final fittings. My contacts from the spa will also be arriving tomorrow morning to attempt to get you all looking presentable. Our last lessons in etiquette will be seen to while we're here. The day is yours. If you've need of anything, ask one of the attendants."

"Good shops here, yeah?" Sera offered, "Plenty of trouble to get up to."

"What kind of shops?" Ellana probed.

"All sorts really, just about anything you fancy."

"Well, how about it Commander?" Ellana questioned, looking at Cullen. "With the whole of my retinue, am I safe enough to indulge in a little shopping?"

Cullen thought it over a moment before nodding. "Yes. I'll remain here and—"

"Oh, no you don't," Ellana shook her head, "You're to accompany us. Not only for your desperate need to not work all hours of the day time and again, but also because a certain elf would miss you terribly." She looked pointedly at me.

"Yes, well," Cullen stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. Burnished bronze met my gaze, both of us flushing. "I really should—"

"—It's an order, Commander," Ellana teased.

"Very well," Cullen grumbled.

"Excellent!" Ellana clapped, "We'll leave in an hour."

"You mean we're actually going to do something fun?" Dorian questioned, his voice skeptical.

"Something civilized? No trudging through festering bogs, insect filled forests, or desert wastelands? You know I still find sand in my various crevices, humiliating truly."

"We know you'd prefer to stay indoors with your books and wine, Ser Dorian," Solas quipped.

"Just as you would prefer your days spent sleeping in the dirt wandering the Fade or lecturing the rest of us on how unintelligent we are," Dorian sneered back.

Sera snorted a laugh. "And we all know what he's doing in the Fade."

"More like who," Bull added.

Blackwall laughed.

"Fenhedis lasa," Solas hissed.

"Touched a nerve did we, Egghead?" Sera crooned.

"Alright, enough," Ellana sighed, "Clearly we can't all go together since we can't play nice."

"Pairs or groups?" Varric questioned.

"Lords and ladies?" Dorian suggested before his grey eyes landed on me, "We promise not to corrupt your templar too much."

"Very funny," I bared my teeth in a smile, earning a wink from the mage.

"I really should stay here—" Cullen began, voice bordering on desperate.

"—No," Ellana shook her head, "One day, no professional business."

I bit back a laugh at the look of helplessness that flashed across Cullen's face. Battle the man could deal with, but socializing?

"Come on, Cullen," Bull encouraged, "It'll be fun."

"I seriously doubt that," Cullen mumbled.

Cullen's amber eyes met mine, pleading. I smiled at him and his nose got adorably scrunched up with his agitation. But he would come, that was clear. We quickly ate, cleaned up and changed before being escorted into the shopping district of the High Quarter.

Ellana and I walked arm in arm ahead of the others and despite her nonchalant exterior attitude, I could sense the tension in her. Elven servants were everywhere, along with the signs of strife between the elves and humans of Halamshiral.

Damage lay where the observing eye could find it, indicating the fighting: dried blood upon the stucco, chips and cracks, scorch marks and the like. Anger and hatred flashed in the eyes of the elves, weapons gripped tightly in the hands of the patrolling soldiers. My own body tensed when I saw a young elven female with signs of a recent beating doing her best to hide it. Even in paid positions, abuse no doubt occurred.

The benefit of a bustling city meant we went relatively unnoticed. Reaching a large fountain, we decided on it as our meeting spot before we split up. Cullen sent his pleading eyes at me one last time before the males dragged him away. Our escort gave a list of shops as we were led to the central square.

Pastries, sweets, flowers, clothing, furniture, jewelry, arms and armor, books, and art supplies were just some of the plethora of goods offered by the various merchants. All manner of delightful smells wafted through the air, Orlesian being yelled back and forth as we walked amongst the stalls and past the mortared buildings.

Leliana's Spymaster persona fell away as she became all smiles and teasing, her lilting voice even more beautiful as she spoke her native tongue. Purchasing various treats for us to try, speaking with the vendors on the others' behalf when they wanted something and taking an obscene amount of time to browse the various shoemakers' selections, it was fascinating to see her be Leliana instead of the Left Hand of the Divine or Spymaster to the Inquisition.

Josephine spoke Orlesian fluently, but the merchants complained her accent was too thick for them to understand her completely. I suspected it was merely rudeness for Josephine being Antivan. A deep blush on her face, Cassandra purchased a few books that fell into the category of her guilty pleasure reading. Sera's arms were stacked full of sweets and baked things despite her grumbling of 'wasting' gold when she could have just stolen what she wanted.

Mind wandering to Cullen, I bought a few things to gift him for having missed his birthday. A new chess set that was even finer than the last, though still simple in style, a few antique fencing manuals that described chevalier techniques and a leather-bound journal. I was handing the merchant the gold for the journal when Ellana grabbed me and pulled me towards a shop.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I had Vivienne pull a few strings," Ellana began, "I didn't want to say anything in front of the others, but…well, Solana suggested it when I spoke with her before they left."

"Suggested what?" I asked, bewildered. "You spoke with her?"

Ellana nodded. "She said you already had, but I wanted to explain." She glanced back at me.

"I like Solana, but the fact remains that she's been a poor leader. She seemed eager to prove me wrong, which is what I was hoping for."

"Wait, so this was the plan all along? This shopping trip?" I questioned.

A feline smile pulled her mouth. "Perhaps."

"As a cover for…wherever we're going?" I probed.

"Vivienne says they're the best, even better than the one in Val Royeaux," Ellana explained, vaguely.

We walked through the open archway of the shop, one of the workers bowed as they held open a curtain.

"Lady Inquisitor," she greeted, "Lady Vivienne is waiting for you."

I stopped in my tracks as I was surrounded by silks, lace, velvets, chiffons and satins. There were two wooden figures bedecked in ornate white dresses and a single one tucked in the back dressed in something far more intimate.

"Welcome darlings," Vivienne approached us, kissing Ellana and I on both of our cheeks, "Shall we?"

She gestured for us to follow her into the back of the shop where comfortable seats awaited us. A tray of refreshments sat upon the small table before the couch. Ellana sat while Vivienne took my elbow and led me to a small room. Inside there was a silk robe draped over a small chair.

"Undress and pull on the robe," Vivienne instructed before loosening the heavy velvet curtain.

I let out a breath and did as she instructed. Once finished, tying the sash of the robe tight around my waist, I stepped out. Vivienne took my elbow once more and led me up to a podium.

"Marie is the best seamstress for this sort of occasion, my dear," Vivienne explained, "You're in trusted hands. Everything she's ever made for me, Bastian has loved and I adored."

Vivienne rarely spoke of the man to whom she was mistress, but whenever she did it was with a warmth she used for no one else. In this statement I dared to believe there was even love in her words. Her dark eyes studied me a moment, her face as enigmatic as ever. Her hand tightened on my elbow.

"We do not always get to choose love in this life, especially we mages," she began, "but do make the most of it, my dear." I nodded.

"And fight for it with all you have." Her eyes burned a moment before her usual mask returned.

Vivienne stepped away as an older woman with an elegant grace approached me. She wore a mask as all Orlesians did and though her gown reflected the typical fashions, it was simpler. I assumed to make her work easier.

"Never did I believe I would be working on an elf, Lady Vivienne," the seamstress stated.

"She saved the Inquisitor's life, Marie," Vivienne warned, "Surely word spreading of such an esteemed customer would only bring great things for your business, my dear?

"Could you imagine what would happen should word spread that you refused service to the Inquisitor's—to the Herald of Andraste's—closest friend? To the Inquisitor herself?"

I could sense the politely veiled threat in Vivienne's voice—that she would be the one responsible for such word spreading and the downfall of Marie's business and reputation.

Marie nodded after a moment, "Of course. You always know best, Lady Vivienne."

"But I leave the creation of beautiful textiles in your expert hands," Vivienne inclined her head, "Treat her as you would me."

"I shall," Marie stated as she began to measure me over the very thin robe.

"What exactly do you make here?" I questioned.

"They tell me you are to be betrothed," Marie voiced.

"I…I suppose I am," I breathed, hardly believing it.

"What sort of garments are needed for such an event?"

I looked to the others, a smile on Ellana's face. "A wedding dress?"

"And what lies beneath it," Marie added.

I blushed. "Oh."

"In three words, describe what you want of both," Marie questioned.

I mulled it over as she measured me until I had the words. "Demure. Elegant. Understated."

"Three words to describe your betrothed."

I blushed deeper. "Stubborn. Kind. Shy."

"Very good," Marie nodded, "Now three words to visualize."

Again I thought it over as she finished up her numerous measurements. Glancing around the shop, my eye caught on a few materials. "Organza. Silk. Lace."

"Two accents"

"Beading." I smirked at a thought of Cullen nervously fumbling with getting the dress off before saying, "Buttons."

"One color. One metallic."

"White. Gold."

Marie snapped her fingers, her servants jumping to dash around the shop. They pulled all manner of items from among drawers and shelves, presenting them before Marie. The seamstress took what she wanted from each of them, draping and pinning her selections on me. Once she was finished, she stepped away to let me look in the tall mirror.

"A very rough idea, my dear, but what do you think?" Vivienne asked.

Tears pricked my eyes as I saw the white material. Is this really happening? "I'm excited to see what you create, madam."

Marie inclined her head before grabbing a long piece of organza and draping it over my face. "And the veil? This is lovely, no?"

I looked away from myself. "Yes."

"I think we'll make the underthings of this color as well. Against your complexion it is exquisite."

"Thank you."

Marie helped me out of the pinned fabric before I pulled my clothes back on. Once I had exited, Vivienne led us about the shop. There was all manner of smallclothes, underthings and nightgowns.

To my growing blush, Ellana kept picking things out for me, Marie tailoring them to my body. When they were delivered, Ellana wanted me to try them on. I watched as she selected a few items herself, a hopeful look on her face.

"One last surprise," Ellana smiled as she ushered me back into the fitting room once we'd finished shopping.

Upon the chair now laid a gorgeous dress made of crushed black velvet. I pulled it on, the fabric buttery soft against my skin. Long sleeves, the inky velvet accentuating my curves as it hugged my skin, the neckline and structured shoulders giving both a feminine and powerful silhouette, I hardly wanted to take it off.

Looking in the small mirror, I found my back exposed, the fabric scooping down low. For a long moment, I stared at the fractured skin that was bare. Cuts from Alrik, wide bans where Karras's whip had stripped flesh from bone, shallow scars from where my skin had opened upon the stones as Alrik dragged me across the ground.

I looked at those scars, the story they told. I earned my scars. I raised my chin a fraction. I survived. I am a tool forged by the Maker for His purpose. These scars are part of that forging. Stepping out, Ellana's smile widened.

"It's even more beautiful on you than I'd imagined!" She exclaimed. "Marie, truly thank you."

"What is this for?" I questioned.

"Vivienne's seamstresses brought this to Skyhold when they were doing preliminary fittings. I wanted to use it for your dress uniform for the Winter Palace, but black is a color of the de Chalons crest and we must be neutral," Ellana sighed, "So, instead, you are to wear this to dinner with Cullen at your discretion."

I knit my brow. "I don't know what to say. It's beautiful."

"It's the least I could do as thanks for your stepping in as Inquisitor," Ellana offered, before her face fell.

"No doubt you and Cullen will have the burden of attention upon your shoulders. You as Inquisitor and he as not only Commander, but…," she pinked a little, giving me an apologetic look, "a very handsome man."

"Many will be all too eager to secure an alliance through marriage to either of you, but especially him," Vivienne warned, "Given his position and influence within the Inquisition."

Rage bubbled up at those words. I looked both of them square in the face. "And you will do everything in your power to shield him from such machinations."

"Of course," Ellana assured.

Finished, I undressed so that Marie could have the entirety of our order sent to Vivienne's apartment. Ellana pulled me along to another shop in the hopes of taking my mind off the masquerade. The sun was beginning to set as we stepped inside. Her distraction worked as I was surrounded by charcoals, chalks, parchments, canvases, brushes and paints.

"Lethallan," Solas's voice greeted, his stormy eyes shifting to Ellana and daring to go soft, "Vhenan."

"Hello, vehnan," Ellana greeted, closing the space between them to press a swift kiss to Solas's jaw.

"Solas," I nodded.

"It seems we all had the same thought," Solas stated, nodding his head to something behind us.

I turned to find Cullen, my breath catching at his handsomeness. He hadn't noticed us, his dark brows knit in concentration, eyes intent upon the wares before him. He had taken his gloves off; his long, strong fingers delicately handling the small jars of paints, brushes and the like. His amber eyes studied them with focus.

As I watched him, he blinked as if sensing my stare before he found me. Eyes widening in surprise, he hastily put down what he'd been perusing. Pulling his gloves back on, he cleared his throat before closing the gap between us.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Hello," I murmured as I looked up at him through my lashes.

"I should have expected you to come here," he stated.

"What were you looking for?" I questioned.

A blush crept up his neck. "A gift. For you."

Warmth bloomed in my chest. "Oh."

Ellana and Solas stepped next to us, fingers entwined. "I think we're going to slip away for a bit," Ellana said, "Enjoy the quiet while we can have it. Maybe you two should as well?"

Cullen looked at them. "Perhaps we should."

Ellana smiled as Solas nodded before they left hand in hand. Still watching as they left, I looked back up to Cullen to find his gaze burning. Blushing deeply, I looked away. His fingers shyly took mine, wrapping around my ring and little finger.

"Come with me, love," he murmured in my ear.

Having me wait where I could not spy what he'd picked for me as he paid, he took my hand once more when he finished. Leading me through the throngs of people, we stopped at a booth dedicated to what I assumed was chocolate. Cullen purchased a few items, the merchant taking his time to wrap the sweets before bidding us farewell.

Cullen's hand fell upon my low back as he pressed us back through the people until we found a secluded spot near a fountain. Sitting upon the bench, he held out one of the chocolates to me. I hesitated, looking at it skeptically.

"You've never had chocolate?" He guessed, his brow quizzical.

"You know Kinloch wasn't the wealthiest of Circles, even less so after the Blight," I stated, "And in the clan…well, I just never had the opportunity."

Cullen mulled that over a bit. "I never thought about it. Mother and Father would get us treats like these for holidays or on the days we were born. But those were rare occasions and always small. It has been a long time since I've had any…or anything sweet really. Not exactly part of the Order's diet regimen."

"Do you like sweet things?" I probed.

A smirk pulled his mouth. He leaned over, his lips brushing my ear. "You're lips are rather sweet, so yes."

I was sure my face was scarlet at his words, heat coursing through me as I bit my lip. "I meant food, Cullen."

"I know, love," he purred.

I nudged his chest, thankful he was not in his usual armor, my elbow meeting his muscled torso instead. "Cullen!"

He made a noise in his throat before swiftly brushing my lips with his own. Butterflies flitted in my belly. "As I said," he murmured, "rather sweet." I flashed my eyes at him, causing him to chuckle. "As for food, I'll admit to a sweet tooth on the rare occasion that I can indulge."

I still had the feeling he was not talking about food as his eyes stayed on my lips, his smirk widening as I wet them involuntarily. Face burning, stomach full of butterflies and his eyes molten, I shoved the chocolate in my mouth. Sweet, rich and smooth as it melted on my tongue, I groaned at how good it was.

"That's wonderful," I groaned again.

He chuckled, a bemused smile on his mouth. "I take it you like it?"

"Very much so," I nodded.

His smile widened before it faltered.

"Bonjour, monsieur," an oily voice spoke as heels clipped on the stone.

"Oh, Eric," a woman's voice murmured excitedly, "She's even lovelier up close."

Cullen and I exchanged a glance. Something about their words, about them made my skin crawl. But for the Inquisition and for The Game, we could not reveal who we were.

I lowered my head, seeing the man's heeled shoes and the skirts of the woman's dress dragging on the ground. A hand came out and tugged my face up by my jaw. Breath that smelled heavily of alcohol filled my nose as I kept my eyes lowered.

"What a lovely servant—"

The man was unable to finish his sentence as Cullen moved, ripping the man's hand away from me and stepping between us. "She is no servant," he growled, "So whatever you're after, whatever you're offering, we're not interested. Leave us be."

Cautiously, I looked up at Cullen. The man had his hand pressed to his chest as if affronted, the woman clinging to his arm. "Monsieur, we meant no offense. We merely wished to proposition—"

Cullen stepped closer to the man. "—No."

"We'd pay you handsomely—"

"—No," Cullen emphasized, stepping even closer. He towered over the Orlesian, his every muscle taut, the leather of his gloves straining over his knuckles as his hands became fists.

The couple looked between us. The man scoffed. "Should have known, mon amour. Dog Lords are so devoted to their beasts, four and two-legged—"

"—I suggest you be on your way before you offend the lady further," Cullen growled, his voice shaking.

The woman giggled behind her hand. "I'm hardly offended, monsieur."

"I didn't mean you," Cullen hissed.

"The rabbit? Surely you must be joking?" The woman was affronted.

Cullen ignored her and turned to me, offering his hand. I didn't realize I'd been trembling until I felt my fingers shaking against his. He pulled me up and along.

"Don't stop walking," he murmured in my ear as he pulled me against his side, "We don't stop until we get to the fountain." I nodded, heart racing and tears pricking my eyes. Cullen's hand gripped mine.

"You are safe, beloved. I will keep you safe." The city was a blur, my skin crawling the entire time. I didn't realize we'd reached the fountain until Cullen was pulling me down to sit on the edge. I met his eyes then, his own intense.

"I am sorry I even let him touch you," Cullen hissed, "Are you alright?"

I nodded, but looked away. "I'm alright." I watched the people milling about for a time before I murmured, "Has it ever bothered you that I'm an elf?"

"Elves were not treated differently at either Kinloch or Kirkwall. A mage was a mage, no matter their race in the eyes of the Order and within the Circle. Before coming to Kinloch…" He smirked as he snorted a laugh.

"Well, I lived on a farm not too far from Honnleath. It was a small village of smaller consequence, not much to draw any beyond those who'd been born there. And I'd never been to Denerim. So, I'll admit to some…infatuation on my part. You were the first elf I'd ever seen." He blushed and looked away when I met his gaze.

"I hope that doesn't…I mean does it bother you?"

"No," I shook my head as he looked at me. "You care for me. That's all that matters," I stated, meeting his eyes.

He took my hand, lacing our fingers. "I do." He cleared his throat, his blush deepening.

" Was I initially…attracted to you because you are elven? In part, but, truthfully, you were simply the most beautiful female—human or otherwise—I'd ever seen. But your beauty was not what made me fall in love with you." He cleared his throat, his blush creeping up his neck.

"You were—you are—lovely and I found you—I find you—compelling." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously because of his stammering. But when he looked at me, his eyes were smoldering, causing me to blush.

"And I am grateful that having magic was an equalizer within the tower. For if not…would we have ever spoken? Been able to?"

I pondered that a moment. "Prejudice was not absent from the tower, but compared to beyond it? I, too, am grateful that within the tower the only true divide was between mage and templar." I met his gaze, an impish grin pulling my mouth though it was dampened.

"And even that line was crossed." We chuckled, I leaning against his shoulder as he brushed a kiss to my temple, but my face fell.

"But now, there is no Circle and I'm an elf." I worried at my lip.

"I am less than you—"

"—Don't say that," he commanded, "Don't ever say that." I looked at him. There was anger in his face.

"You are not and never will be less than me. And I will never let anyone treat you that way."

Tears pricked my eyes and swallowed down the lump in my throat before continuing. "I meant in the eyes of humans in general…as well as being reviled by all because I am a mage. And because I love a human…I will be hated by my own kin."

My shoulders dropped. "I forgot how I—how this—would be viewed in the eyes of the public. Skyhold…the Inquisition…we're united by a single goal, nothing else matters. But the world beyond? There was a reason I was glad to be part of the Circle." I looked out at the people once more.

"Just one more thing the rebels did not consider before they ripped apart the Circle."

He squeezed my hand and I met his gaze. "I am sorry, love. I'm not sure what else to say."

I looked away. "It's not your fault."

He leaned to catch my eye. "We return to the house, tell the others we're tired, hide out in your room and I can give you your gift?"

I chuckled weakly. "That sounds lovely."

He studied my face. "I'll see it done."

"Thank you."

The others arrived slowly, Cullen and I quiet as we returned to Vivienne's home. We both requested dinner to be brought to our rooms, the others breaking off for Wicked Grace or to use the bathing room. Once in the privacy of my own room, I scrubbed away the feel of the Orlesian man's touch and changed into a simple woolen dress the color of lilacs. Heart flipping at Cullen's knock, I opened my door.

My breath caught as it seemed prone to do every time I looked at him now. He was down to his cotton shirt and leather pants, an alluring smile on his lips. Dinner tray in hand, he entered the room as I held the door for him.

We sat upon the bed as we ate, knees touching atop the covers, bare feet brushing on the floor as we asked each other all manner of questions—an unspoken agreement to relearn everything about each other passing between us. Upon finishing eating, we exchanged our gifts. I giving him his new chess set, fencing manual and journal. He giving me pigmented chalks, an iris preserved in resin and more chocolates.

He inspected the journal, his strong hands turning it over. A brow raised in question as he met my gaze, "What is the journal for?"

"I thought perhaps you should start recording your days," I stated.

"Why?"

"A myriad of reasons," I shrugged, "To keep the Inquisition's history. To keep your own. To write out your struggles." I met his eyes. "To write whatever you're unable to say aloud."

His eyes flicked between mine before he leaned forward to brush a kiss to my cheek. "Thank you," he breathed against my skin, "Forgive me for…not being entirely honest."

Heart thudding against my ribcage, I murmured, "In the future, just try to remember that I am here. That I would choose you as you are again and again. That you do not have to hide who you are from me." I turned my head until our lips met. "That I love you."

"I'll try, so long as you do the same," he murmured before claiming my lips in a searing kiss.

My heart raced faster with his lips against mine, warmth spreading throughout my body. His fingers slid into my hair, his mouth slanting over mine, my own softening. The world and our problems faded away as I got lost in the kiss, wanting to focus on this—on us—for once.

My hands trailed up his arms and into his hair, soft against my fingers. I pulled his mouth harder against mine. His hands spread across my back, drawing me flush to him before they hooked behind my knees, pulling me into his lap. Heat lanced through me, my heart racing impossibly faster as I threw my arms around his neck. He tugged me with him as he laid upon the bed, deepening the kiss. His fingers were in my hair as his lips pressed mine open, and as they did, his hands moved along the curves of my body. The tips of his fingers dug into my hips before, gently, he rolled us over.

He broke away a moment. Honey eyes darkened with want studied me as his hand cupped my face, silently asking if this was alright. I gave a slight nod, his eyes burning to molten bronze. Curling my hair around my ear, he tipped my chin as he captured my lips in heated passion.

As I met his passion, his hand slid from my face down to my knee where he hooked it over his waist as his hips pressed against mine. I moaned as I broke away from him, fingers grazing his powerful back as his lips caressed my now exposed throat. My shadow self growled, but before anything came of it, Cullen froze. Lips a breath above my throat, hand gripping my thigh, arm circled around me causing my back to arch, slowly he released me.

"Forgive me," he breathed as he pressed away from me, his brow knit with concern.

"I suppose I should have thought of the journal sooner if it warrants that sort of response," I panted, the heat of his body leeching out of my skin. "What would you have done if I'd give you that and one of Varric's mechanical pens I keep seeing you eye?"

He groaned a laugh. "I am so sorry." His head fell against my shoulder before he pressed himself up again. "D id I…was that too much?"

I blushed heavily, looking away. "That may have…been too much, yes."

"Truly, I am sorry," he urged.

"I know," I murmured, "It's not that I didn't enjoy it, but…" I tried to think of the right words.

"You don't need to explain," he said earnestly, "It was…reckless of me. And unfair to you."

My gaze flicked between his. I cupped his cheek, he leaned into the touch, eyes closing. "Thank you," I murmured, "But we both got…caught up in it." He opened his eyes. "And I wouldn't mind another kiss as an apology."

A mischievous smile broke across his face, pulling on his scarred lip. "Oh?" He quirked a brow. "Then allow me to make amends, my lady."

He leaned down and kissed me tenderly but briefly before breaking away once more. His amber eyes turned molten as he looked at me, his bare forearms to either side of my head.

My eyes caught on the scars and golden hair that decorated the skin pulled taut over his defined arms. The scars stretched down to his strong hands, small nicks from mistakes made during practice, from fights, from the torture he'd endured. Hesitantly, I ran my fingers over the skin laid bare from where he'd rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.

"The last time I saw you before the Rite was broken, you'd been a boy," I murmured, "We'd both been no more than children really. But the world demanded we become adults before our time." I met his eyes, a bittersweetness in them. "Promise me that when all of this is over, we'll take the time to just be."

His thumb ran the length of my cheekbone as he cupped my face. "I promise," he whispered, "But more than that, I promise to do so in the moments of freedom we're allowed before this ends."

I leaned into his touch, holding his wrist before kissing his palm. Climbing off of me, he took my hands and helped me to sit up as he stood. The backs of his fingers brushing my cheeks before he cupped my ears, he slanted his mouth over mine once more before breaking the kiss and stepping away.

"I should go," he grumbled, "Before I act with impertinence…again."

"Cullen!" I exclaimed with a laugh.

His scar pulled in a crooked grin. "Maker hasten the day when I don't have to leave...and I can be impertinent."

"Cullen!" I laughed harder, my face burning.

His smile widened, virility sparking in his gaze. "I love it when you blush."

My face grew hotter as he looked at me like that, I having to look away. "Why?"

"Because it means we haven't entirely lost our innocence, despite life's best efforts," he murmured as he curled an errant strand of hair over my ear as he chuckled, "Despite our companions' best efforts."

I laughed with him as we walked to the door. As I went to open it for him, he grabbed my waist and kissed me with abandon, pressing me against the door as I melted into him. Fingers curled into his shoulders, his pressing into my hips before gliding up to follow the curve of my back.

His arms captured me, pulling me against him. His lips moved from mine to kiss along my jaw, his nose trailing down my throat before a final kiss was pressed to my collarbone. His lips brushed where my pulse was beating wildly before a chaste kiss to my cheek.

"Goodnight, my lady," he said, his voice husky.

"Goodnight, my love," I breathed.

…

The next day saw the beginning of our being held prisoner by Vivienne to "prepare" us for the Winter Palace. Everything was planned for us—when and what we were to eat, when we could bathe, individual lessons in etiquette and dancing, leisure time and strict sleep schedules. Fittings for our formal garb also began, a small pleasure found amidst the stress as I saw what I had drawn on paper come to life.

It seemed it was also Vivienne's intention to keep Cullen and I separated, as well as Solas and Ellana. We were separated for meals, for final etiquette lessons, we'd all been given a curfew for sleep. Every minute of our days were scheduled up until we were to leave for the masquerade. Vivienne claimed it was to ensure we were as well rested and presentable as we could possibly be for the Winter Palace.

But what was truly making our separation unbearable was the beauty treatments we were being forced to undergo. Cullen had stormed out of one of his, Ellana explaining it had been a massage while Vivienne rolled her eyes at his prudish behavior. I had kept quiet, knowing it had little to do with the treatment itself. I was scheduled for a massage later in the day, nausea turning over in my gut at the thought of it as I stood before a mirror undergoing another fitting.

Finished, I left the room, nearly running headfirst into Cullen. He caught me, the first time we'd seen each other in almost two days. We looked at each other a moment before he pulled me into my room.

"How are you, darling?" He murmured as he pulled me to him, wrapping me in his arms.

"Better now," I assured, pressing my hands into his back. "You?"

"I'll be better when we're free of Orlais," he growled, "Have I mentioned how much I detest it?"

I chuckled. "A time or two, yes."

He chortled before pulling away from me. He cupped my cheek. "I miss you terribly. To know you're so close and yet I'm unable to see you…"

An impish grin spread across my face. "We could always break curfew, you know. Last I checked, this isn't a Circle…and you're no longer a templar."

His mouth tipped in a smirk. "True."

I stood on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I better go," I sighed, "I'm due in the bathing chamber. A steam treatment or some such nonsense."

His eyes studied me, pleading. "If you must."

"I'm just across the hall, Cullen," I chuckled.

"It's still too far, love," he pouted.

Opening the door, I took a moment to simply look at him. Sweet Maker. Feeling heat rising in my face, I looked at him one more time before slipping out.

Working my way through the house, I found the bathing chamber and walked in. I froze when I realized I was not alone inside, but all the other ladies were present and undressed. Clearing my throat as I'd drawn attention, I entered a changing room. My heart started beating faster at the idea of baring myself before the others. Ellana and Solana had been different—they were my sisters.

The others…I wrapped a towel around myself and exited. That same panic gripped me as it had in the tavern before Karras and the others attacked me. Everything too loud and too sensitive all at once. I backed away from them, gripping the towel to me. Eyes of either confusion or sympathy looked at me.

"I…I can't," I breathed.

"Darling, soak your feet," Vivienne encouraged, "It'll do you wonders. Private soaking times are scheduled for everyone tomorrow. But we'd be remiss to not have you with us this evening. There are bathing gowns in the garderobes." Despite the tone of her voice, I knew this was as gentle as Vivienne would allow herself to be.

"Thank you, Vivienne," I murmured.

"Of course, my dear," she inclined her head, "And how are you all? Have you found everything to your liking?"

Polite conversation passed between us all until curfew fell. Dressing and bidding the others goodnight, I made my way to the room that had been assigned to the spa attendants.

Two elven females bowed as I entered the room, one gesturing to the screen. "Please undress, Lady Talitha and then lay upon the table facedown," she directed.

I nodded, my heart beginning to race. I ducked behind the screen and quickly undressed. Doing my best to cover myself, their backs to me, I climbed atop the table and lay down upon my stomach. A sheet was draped over me, keeping my more intimate parts covered, before a pair of hands were upon my skin. I jerked at the touch.

"Please, lay still," the attendant gently reprimanded.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

The attendant resumed their work, but I could not remain still. For it was not their hands that I felt, but others'. The temperature in the room began to drop. Flashes of memories played in my mind, the echo of my pleas in my ears.

"Please, lay still, my lady," the attendant begged, worry in her voice.

"I can't," I panted, trying to get off the table, but their hands pushed against me. Rage surged through me as their hands dug into my back and I flung my hand out. "Don't touch me!"

I hit the floor, dragging the cover with me. I huddled beneath it, shaking. Feet scurried across the floor, the door opening and slamming shut. Cold crept across my skin, a sinister laugh in my ear. And you think you'll be able to let him touch you so? He who was the face of your torturer? You're a fool. One night of half-hearted passion is not the same. When he touches you in just the wrong way, in just the wrong place, you'll kill him, just as you nearly did them.

"Talitha?" Ellana's voice spoke as the door creaked open. "Creators."

Slowly, I peeled back the cover and gasped. The room was coated in ice, the floor cracked, the table shattered, walls fractured. "Oh, Maker," I breathed. Ellana kneeled next to me, a gentle hand on my shoulder that I shook off. "Are they alright?"

"A little shaken up and cold, some frostbite on their feet, but nothing irreparable," Ellana said quietly, "What happened?"

Tears burned in my eyes. Monster."I…I tried to get up," I murmured, "but they…I'm sure they were worried they were doing something wrong or would get punished so they pushed me down."

"Oh, Creators," she breathed, "I'm sorry. I…should have come with you."

I said nothing to that, unable to meet her eyes. "Can I return to my room now?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I'll explain to Vivienne as best as I can. The attendants will be fine."

I nodded before standing, my legs shaking as I quickly dressed behind the scree. As I made to leave, I turned back to the room. Fear and doubt sprung up in my chest as I surveyed the damage. "Tell Vivienne I'm sorry and that I'll pay for the damage."

Ellana waved a hand. "It's already taken care of."

Tears burning in my eyes, I quickly made for my room. At my door, I heard Cullen's open behind me. His hands cupped my shoulders and I twisted out of his grip, my skin crawling. I hugged myself tightly, pressing against the door. You see? I was unable to meet his eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry," I breathed, opening the door, "I just need to be alone."

I dared a glance at him. He gave a nod, pulling his hand back to his side. "Sleep well."

I tried to smile at him, but I couldn't. The door closing behind me, I curled up in the bed and wept.

…

Another evening finding me recovered, I entered my room after another long day. I was greeted by soft candlelight and Cullen's burning bronze gaze from where he sat. Legs sprawled before him, jaw resting on his palm, that crooked grin ghosting his lips as he met my eyes, my heart skipped a beat. In his nightclothes, feet bare, muscled arms on display from his short sleeves, hair slicked with some concoction, my mouth went a little dry.

"I'm to let this dry before going to sleep," he pointed to his hair, "I thought such time better spent awake with you."

Heat bloomed in my face. "And what, pray tell, will we be doing?"

His mouth tipped further as he leaned forward in his chair. A hand waved to the table before him.

"This." In the middle sat his new chessboard, wine glasses to either side and a small box of chocolates between them.

"I thought you were in need of some cheering up. And as you said, we can break the rules."

"If I recall, you're rather prone to doing so," I teased as I made my way behind the changing screen.

"Some of them," he admitted.

"And I'm grateful for it," I chuckled as I came around, now dressed in a floor-length silk nightgown and matching robe. I watched his eyes rove over me, growing wide before he snapped them to my face, the apple of his throat bobbing. I drew the robe around me before cinching it closed.

He cleared his throat as I sat, waiting a moment before moving his piece.

"The Inquisitor mentioned that you were having a difficult time with the…treatments," Cullen probed as he moved his pieces.

"Some of them yes," I nodded, "I heard the same of you."

"I hardly think undergoing a…massage is vital to stopping an assassin," he rolled his eyes.

I chuckled to push away the tightness in my chest, "Agreed."

Comfortable silence fell between us as we played our game, I now a challenge to Cullen which seemed to surprise him. I swallowed down a lump before offering an explanation.

"We…played this a lot while I was in Desire's temptation," I murmured, "And Prudence has given me pointers."

He was silent a moment. "I do not expect you to speak on that which pains you."

"I know," I said, "but you deserve to know at least what I can bear to tell you." I met his gaze. "Just know that…we were happy, but…nothing compares to this," I laced my fingers through his, "to you."

A smile tugged the corner of his mouth before it fell. "We…had children…didn't we? That's what made you stay?" I looked away from him, hand slipping from his fingers as my arms suddenly felt unbearably empty. No matter the truth, I still felt the loss of them. Still grieved for them at times. Cullen caught my hand before I pulled it back to myself. I met his eyes, intense as they were.

"I am so sorry, my love."

I shook my head. "I'm not." His brow knit, but he said nothing.

"Because despite what happened…in another world…they lived." He stood then, never letting go of my hand as he pulled me into his arms. Eyes burning with tears, I buried my face in his chest, my fingers curling into his shirt.

"They were beautiful, Cullen." His arms tightened around me, the warmth of him seeping through the silk of my nightgown. He said nothing, simply stroking my back to comfort me. We stayed like that for a time until I pulled away, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"So much for cheering me up," I chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He chortled, "I failed rather miserably, didn't I?"

I cupped his cheek, he pressing my palm flush against his skin as his eyes closed briefly. "No matter my desire, my heart's longing for them, this is what I want."

Molten bronze looked at me as he kissed my palm. "Perhaps…in time, we could adopt? The orphanages are not without their occupants. Children seeking a home."

I considered that a moment. "I hadn't thought of that."

He brushed a kiss to my cheek, his hands clasping my shoulders. "We've time, love."

I nodded, looking to the board. Lips twitching, I checkmated him. "Checkmate," I chuckled.

"Cruel female," he growled, "Distracting me so you could win."

I shrugged, "That wasn't my intention."

He made a noise of disbelief in his throat that caused my heart to thud unevenly. "How shall you make it up to me?" His hand slid the robe and strap of my nightgown from my shoulder. His lips moved along the now exposed skin up to my throat.

"Cullen?" I questioned.

"How shall you be punished?" He demanded, his teeth scraping my throat.

Unease lanced through me and I shoved him away. "Stop!"

"Disobedience will not be tolerated, little Neria," he clicked his tongue as he straightened, eyes hungry as they looked at me.

Nausea rolled in my gut. "What did you call me?"

"How long do you believe you can suppress what happened? How I came to be?" That dark voice questioned. "What he did to you with that face? You think he's confessed all his lies?"

I froze. Cullen smiled cruelly at me before his hand clamped down on my throat. I clawed at his arm, but he did not let go. Instead, he shoved me onto the bed before straddling me, pinning my arms down. That cruel smile broadened before he bent down, lips against my throat. "I can smell your fear."

Rage burned through me, "No!" The nightmare shattered.

"Meira," Purpose called, his hand on my shoulder. I shoved it off me and moved away from him. He put his hands up. "I'm sorry."

"It seems our friend is not content to stay in the dark forever," I hissed. "Was any of that real?"

"Up to the moment it turned into a nightmare," Purpose explained, "S he's been biding her time, regaining strength. She pulled you into it. You need to be on your guard."

"How does one live when they can't even trust their own mind?" I murmured.

"You lean on those around you," he advised, "On those who love you."

I met his gold eyes. "Will I ever be free of this, Purpose? Truly free?"

"Do you believe Cullen can be free of what haunts him?"

"You know, I hate it when you answer a question with a question," I growled.

He chuckled. "I know, but I think you already know the answer to both."

I sighed. "Just as he faced Shame, I must face her to truly be able to move on."

"Exactly," Purpose nodded, "So get through the Winter Palace and then focus on finding a way to be rid of her and still bear the armor."

Prudence appeared beside him and I met her sapphire eyes. "I will speak with other spirits of wisdom to see what—if anything—can be done. I make no promises, but I will do what I can."

"Thank you."

Her face fell. "I am sorry, Fadewalker, that the price of this power takes such a toll."

I snorted a laugh. "I never asked for this power, so that makes it more annoying than anything." They laughed with sympathy. "I simply pray that this will all be worth it."

"Do not lose hope, da'len," Prudence encouraged, "For it alone will see you through all that is ahead."

"I know," I murmured, "I know."

"Meira?!" Cullen's voice called as I felt my body shake. I blinked, slowly opening my eyes to his worried face. "Are you alright?"

The room was cold, frost coating my fingers. He held me in his arms, apparently unaffected by the cold. "I fell asleep, didn't I?"

"Yes," he nodded, "Were you…did you have a nightmare?"

I couldn't meet his eyes. "I did, but it's over for now." He cupped my face. I pressed his palm against my skin before pulling it away. "I think we should both get some sleep."

He was silent, but he nodded and brushed a kiss to my cheek before leaving the room.

…

Our days of preparation continued, each day wearing away at my nerves as it was not only Cullen I didn't see, but Ellana as well. We far too busy to even break curfew, too tired by the evening. Their absence made all the more unbearable when the storm that had been persistent finally broke loose.

Rain, thunder, lighting unrelenting. With no Ghilani to comfort me, I was huddled up on the bed beneath my covers trying to block out the noise. There was a knock on my door.

"Talitha?" It was Ellana.

"Come in," I breathed. The door creaked open and I gasped. "Ellana? Your hair?!"

She put a finger to her lips, they twitching behind it with a bemused smile. No longer was her hair twisted in tight dread locks. Instead, tumbling waves of ebony fell to the tops of her thighs.

"Given that I am no longer living a nomadic lifestyle, I thought I could lose the dread locks." She ran her fingers through her hair. "You have no idea how good this feels. My hair was so heavy."

She sat upon the bed, the inky waves pooling upon the covers. "So you…did this for you?"

Her eyes flicked up to me. "Not just for me."

I clenched my teeth. "Then for who?"

"For you," she stated.

My brows rose. "For me?"

"So you don't have to wear a wig for the masquerade," her smile turned mischievous, "and maybe Cullen can run his fingers through your real hair." Her smile broadened. "After all, you two will have some…alone time in the carriage on the way to the palace."

I pinked at the thought. "You didn't need to do this for me."

She hugged me to her. "It's not just for you, but I gladly would have." She leaned back. "I asked Vivienne if it was even possible to get my hair to its natural state again before we came here and I thought it over." I eyed her, disbelieving.

"I wanted this, Meira." Rarely did she use my given name, so I understood it was her way of telling me that she was being truthful. Thunder cracked overhead and I nearly jumped out of my skin. She took my hand, sympathy in her eyes.

"I see that is still the same as ever."

I grit my teeth. "I hate storms." I glared at her. "And you love them."

She shrugged and nodded, unable to deny it. "I'm sorry," she looked at me, "I'll tell the others you're feeling unwell."

"Thank you," I squeezed her fingers.

"Try to relax," she offered as she made for the door.

"Ellana," I called, causing her to look at me, "You look beautiful."

She flashed me a broad smile before leaving the room. Thunder boomed again and I buried myself beneath the covers trying to drown out the sound.

…

"M-Talitha?" Cullen's voice questioned when it was past curfew, a knock on the door even as I heard it open and the pattering of his bare feet on the marble floor. "Are you alright?"

Thunder boomed again, causing me to jump out of my skin. I pulled the covers tighter around me, my hands over my ears. Embarrassment prickled across my skin.

I heard his footsteps as he got closer to the bed and my heart started to race. I hadn't seen him since the nightmare my shadow had forced upon me. Only in passing because even though I'd missed him, I needed the separation for a time.

"Meira?" He questioned, his voice so low only I would hear him.

"I'll be fine," I murmured, "as soon as the storm passes."

"Ellana said you were ill?" He questioned as I felt the bed shift with his weight.

"Probably to save me from the embarrassment," I mumbled.

"Of?" He probed as he gently tugged away the covers.

I met his eyes as the sheet fell away, a blush on my cheeks. There was a bemused smile on his lips. My breath caught as I looked at him. Though he too had refused some of the treatments, those he had submitted to had only aided in his handsomeness.

His hair was now glossy, soft and shining gold. While he'd refused to be clean shaven—hinting that I was the reason for that—his stubble was now groomed and conditioned. He had filled out some more, his complexion healthy and eyes bright. In only his linen nightclothes, I was glad to see that the fabric was now snug to the planes of his figure instead of hanging off of him. But with that snug fit came a clear silhouette of his powerful body which made my mouth go dry, my throat sticking as I tried to swallow. Thunder boomed again, shaking the walls and me out of my thoughts.

I hugged myself tightly, screwing my eyes shut before covering my ears again. "That," I hissed.

"Thunder?" He questioned, though there was no judgment in it.

"Yes," I growled, "Like a child."

"I…had no idea," he murmured.

"It's not exactly something I'm proud to admit," I grumbled, pulling a chuckle from him, "I was as a child as well. Lightning and rain do not bother me, but thunder…it unnerves me. Only made worse when I was…on my own and…in the belly of that ship.

"But at Kinloch, Greagoir allowed us to use magic to manipulate the weather around the tower as part of our studies so we never had severe weather. Always gentle rains, gentle snows, warm but not too hot days."

He chortled. "I guess I never realized…foolish as that sounds."

I shook my head, bristling as thunder rumbled again. "I didn't either until we were studying the weather one day. There was a storm all around, except directly overhead. Irving confirmed it was due to magic manipulation. Permission given to those enchanters that specialized in storm magic. So I never had to worry about it there. I guess The Gallows and Skyhold lack such magic."

"You seemed unbothered during the storm at Skyhold?" He questioned, taking my hand and lacing our fingers.

"It doesn't bother me as much when I'm outside," I admitted, "But inside…when the walls and stones beneath my feet shake…it brings back memories I'd rather not remember."

He nodded before standing. He scooped me into his arms and carried me across the hall to his room. Confused for a moment until I saw the balcony, gratitude warmed my heart and I leaned my head against his chest. He set me down before turning back inside. Pressing a cup of hot chocolate into my hands, he turned to grab a blanket off his bed. Draping it around his shoulders, he pulled me against him before wrapping us both up in it.

He rested his chin on my shoulder as his arms circled my waist. "I always liked storms."

Sipping the rich liquid, my insides warming with it and my nerves calming between its heat and Cullen's arms around me, I was able to watch the storm with him beneath the overhang. The hard rain, the fracturing lighting overhead, the rumbling thunder all tugged at darker memories, but with his presence, I let this new memory burn through the old.

"You could have told me," he murmured, "instead of hiding alone in your room."

"I suppose I should have," I admitted, "but as I said, I was embarrassed."

"Whatever for?"

"Being afraid of storms, it's so…childish," I mumbled, "When compared to…other things."

He pressed a kiss to my temple. "I find it endearing…and adorable."

I chuckled. "Now you're teasing me."

"Not at all, love," he assured before murmuring in my ear, "I look forward to stormy nights of holding you close to comfort you."

Warmth pooled in my cheeks and I took a sip from my cup to keep from saying anything. But I suddenly found myself looking forward to future storms if they meant being in his arms, kept safe and warm against him. My mind turned to more intimate thoughts, thinking of him distracting me another way. I pushed away the dark voice as she growled lies at me.

"Perhaps more than just holding…eventually," I murmured sheepishly, hoping against hope for that future.

He chuckled as he stole a sip from my cup. "That too, should we feel so inclined."

I looked at him then. The certainty on his face, the easy smile on his mouth that lit his eyes, the confidence radiating off of him. He looked younger, happier. He sensed my perusal as his honey eyes met mine, his gaze melting into something soft and tender.

I swallowed thickly, feeling the need to say something I'd not been brave enough to that night in his office. "I want you to know…I do look forward to that. That I do not fear you. Not for a moment. I know you would..that you will…do your utmost to make it…special." He remained silent, wanting me to say all I needed to before he spoke. I let out a breath.

"My…struggle has nothing to do with you. It is my own…memories I must fight against. I'm sorry if I didn't…make that clear before. I do long for those nights. For when we are able to be that intimate."

"Just as I do," he whispered, "Make no mistake, I want you Meira. Desperately. But if I have ever made you feel that I am unsure or unwilling to wait—that I am not serious about our relationship—it is because it's been a long time since I have wanted anyone in my life. I did not expect to find that here. Or you." He looked out to the sky.

"The Maker has given me this second chance. This chance to start over, to build something of my life—of myself—that I may one day be proud of. I dared not hope that love would be part of that. Nor that it would be you with whom that love would be shared." He looked back to me, a gentle smile pulling his mouth.

"Yet, here you are." He smiled wider, mischief in it. "Shall I test the Maker further by scorning this gift? I've been a fool enough already, I'd rather not be so again." I didn't know what to say to that, so I closed my eyes and nuzzled into his neck.

"I know there are some things that will not be easy…for either of us, but…I have loved you for the better part of my life, Meira." I set the cup down as he turned me to face him within the blanket.

"It…didn't end when I left." He brushed his fingers along my jaw. "I…Forgive me for that, love. For leaving you. But I feared…that I would hurt you by staying." Sorrow flickered in his features. "But I hurt you anyway."

"I understood why you left," I murmured, "You don't need to apologize."

"No, I do," he asserted, "because I fear it's part of why you…doubt yourself." He looked away. "Doubt that I am willing to do whatever you need of me because I left you once. Turned my back on you and our friendship when you were no less hurt than I was. When you needed me most as Solana and Jowan had abandoned you as well." His brow knit.

"How…alone and betrayed you must have felt."

Memories of nights spent weeping cropped up, but I pushed them away. "I understood. Each of you. Jowan desired love. Solana, freedom. And you…that tower held too much sorrow for you."

"But the way I left…" his eyes fell, "that was unkind. I could have at least told you."

"You needed away," I dismissed.

He took my chin between his fingers, wanting me to look at him. "You deserved the common decency of an explanation. Our friendship deserved that. I was…it was an unworthy act on my part. Untoward. I took my anger out on you despite your kindness to me. I regret it, love. I just wanted you to know."

"Cullen, it is the past," I assured.

"I know," he nodded, "but be that as it may, it no doubt made you feel as if you…did not matter to me. That none of it mattered."

I looked away, old wounds aching. "At first I thought that," I admitted, "but…then I realized you left because it did." I met his eyes. "And that's when I decided to come to Kirkwall."

He met my eyes, "I fear you would have found a different man wearing my face. One who…would have done everything he could to convince you he didn't care for you. Who would've done everything he could to convince himself he didn't care for you."

I smirked. "I don't know, I can be pretty persuasive."

A flicker of a smile, but it didn't take. "All I am trying to say, Meira, is that I never stopped caring for you. Never stopped loving you. And now that you're in my life once again, if you'll allow me, I never wish to let you go."

"If you'll allow me," I smiled, "I never wish for you to."

He chuckled. "Good." His hand cupped my cheek as he gave me a tender kiss and I found the thunder far less frightening as his lips moved against mine.

"I must admit, this is a rather good distraction," I murmured against him mouth.

His chest rumbled with laughter. "I thought it might be."

I laughed even as he claimed my lips once more.

...

The day of the masquerade was finally upon us. Tension thick in the air, Josephine and Vivienne stressed as they raced to get us all ready. Hours were spent on hair and makeup. Nails, teeth and skin were given final polishes. Last minute fittings made, a review of lessons given.

"How you speak to the Court is a matter of life and death," Josephine warned as the seamstresses made final touches to my dress uniform, "It is no simple matter of etiquette and protocol. Every word, every gesture is measured and evaluated for weakness."

"They sound like a pleasant bunch," I grumbled.

"The Game is like Wicked Grace played to the death," Josephine pressed, "You must never reveal your cards."

"So…be as coy as possible?" I questioned.

"As politely as possible," Josephine nodded, "Equal measures of aloof and pleasant manners."

"I think I can manage that," I stated.

"When you meet the Empress, the eyes of the entire court will be upon you," Josephine explained, "You were safer in Haven with Corypheus."

"If that was your attempt at humor, it was awful," I teased, "Please try to relax Josephine. No pompous Orlesian twit can compare with a darkspawn that stepped straight out of the Chant and nearly killed me."

Josephine pinked. "Of course." She straightened, smoothing the fabric of her jacket for the hundredth time. "Everything will be fine." She gave a slight bow before turning to leave, muttering beneath her breath. "Andraste, watch over us all."

Final touches finished, I was assisted from my room. The heels of my knee-high boots clapped against the marble floor, the attendants holding the flowing skirt of the white velvet jacket up off the floor. The ceremonial sword—the same one held by Ellana as she accepted the role of Inquisitor—bumped against my hip with each step. I adjusted the red cape around my shoulders, the silver thread of the numerous Inquisition symbols shining in the torchlight as I passed. The attendants helped me down the staircase, the others already gathered below.

The group turned at the sound of my boots upon the stair and I cursed myself for not putting the mask on to hide the blush burning on my face. My eyes found Cullen and I nearly fell down the stairs. He had yet to put his mask on, instead toying with it in his hands before he looked up.

Normally, he was ridiculously handsome. Tonight, he was downright beautiful to look at and I cursed myself for letting my fantasy run wild as I'd designed his attire. He looked like a prince that had stepped straight from the pages of a fairy tale.

A brilliant red coat decorated heavily with silver thread sewn to mimic foliage at the buttons that started at his throat and fell beneath the white silk sash that fell from his left shoulder and circled his waist. Medals decorated the white silk at his shoulder while his left shoulder was hidden beneath a silver fur-trimmed cape that brushed the floor. The cape was decorated with a large rendition of the Inquisition's symbol and held by two silver braided cords—"aiguillettes" as Cullen had called them—that wrapped beneath his opposite shoulder.

The cords denoted rank and position within the military; I had three that fell from my right shoulder, he had two, Ellana as Talitha would have two while all the others would have one but they would fall from their left shoulders. He too had a sword at his hip, ceremonial as well though less ostentatious than mine and hidden beneath his cape. Crisp white pants tucked into glossy jackboots, tailored perfectly to him and showing off his powerful legs. The tailcoats of his dress uniform flailed as he moved to meet me at the bottom of the stairs. A gloved hand offered to help me down the last few steps, but I stumbled anyway as I couldn't take my eyes off of him, my heart thundering at the heat in his gaze.

"You look beautiful," he stated, brushing a kiss to my gloved knuckles.

"So do you," I breathed, pulling a chuckle from him as he glanced over me.

"Yeah, yeah, you're both gorgeous," Bull griped, tugging at the collar that was choking him, "Can we go? I'm starving. This place better have food."

"You're not the only one," Sera whined, tugging at her own collar. For the first time since I'd known her, her hair was actually cut evenly, "If there's not, I'm dropping bees. That's all the warning you get, Josie."

Metal tapped on the marble floor as Ellana approached me. The moon-white hair of the wig was swept into an intricate braid on top of her head, all but her lips and chin hidden beneath a mask, her vallaslin hidden beneath makeup. The masks were everyone's own faces—from the nose up—cast in metal and etched without emotion; there were tiny slits at the eyes so we could see out, but no one could see in.

A long coat of stiffened white silk flowed to the floor mimicking a dress, draping sleeves hiding her hands, silver tassels hung from the shoulder pieces—or "epaulettes", while the braided cords of rank were pinned to her chest. Beneath the coat was an inner vest of crushed white velvet with silver thread for accents and a sash of brilliant red. Stormy grey pants tucked into tailored knee-high boots with heels.

But what made her outfit, what grabbed attention—and therefore would misdirect—was the staff in her hand. The staff itself was crafted to look like Judex while Visus had been attached separately. Ellana poured magic into the staff, a wreath of flames surrounding the eye, bringing the Inquisition's symbol to life.

"What do you think?" She questioned as she waved a hand over herself.

"Everyone looks spectacular," I offered as I looked over them all.

"All thanks to you, my dear," Vivienne nodded, "Truly, you have a talent."

"Thank you, Lady Vivienne," I bowed my head.

She shook her head, "Tonight, my dear, you bow to no one save Celene."

"Right," I swallowed, straightening, nerves pooling in my belly for the first time.

Cullen looped my arm through his, "Shall we, Inquisitor?"

I squared my shoulders and nodded. "Let's go hunting."

---

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