Chapter 5
Cassandra had been muttering under her breath since their meeting with the Templars. Every so often she would burst out with a 'Has Lord Lucius truly gone mad?' or 'How could he do this?!' startling them to no end. She remained distracted as they searched for clues for the friend of Red Jenny, with the warrior often walking into the back of Varric and never rising to the occasion to any of his barbs. The dwarf looked at Elissa and Solas completely at a loss as to how to break the Seeker from her thoughts, and they all silently agreed to give her the time to adjust to the knowledge there was a newer, more sinister leader of the Seeker order.
It was not until another elf made herself known at their rendezvous point did she snap out of her self-imposed daze, the loud and lairy rogue bright enough to shock someone back from the brink of death.
"Y-You, you are the Friend of Red Jenny?" she asked, mouth slack and surprise plastered across her face, her expression only deepening the more she heard the woman talk.
"Well yeah, one of them anyways. Name's Sera. This is cover. Get round it. For the reinforcements. Don't worry. Someone tipped me their equipment shed. They've got no breeches," she giggled, a look of pure cheekiness upon her young face.
"Breeches?" Cassandra echoed, completely confused and struggling to catch up with what was happening. She looked between her companions to see if she was the only one who felt as if she no longer understood the Common tongue with the way this stranger wielded it. Cassandra glanced at Elissa who only shrugged but readied her staff for whatever was to come their way.
Thankfully the fight was quick and the Herald and Sera seemed to understand each other and made light work of recruiting the archer and her network of 'people' to aid the Inquisition; their brief interaction ended with Sera skipping away from their group with a promise to meet them back at Haven.
"That is by far the oddest elf I have ever met," Cassandra baulked after her as she shook some blood off her blade.
Solas made a strangled noise at the back of his throat and gawked at Cassandra.
"Oh no Seeker, this has nothing to do with her being an elf at all, we have all had the pleasure to bear witness to what a storm looks like trapped in skin," he groused, shaking his head disbelievingly.
"Yeah, and yellow plaid slacks," Varric chuckled as he pulled out his book and wrote something down that made him snort at his own cleverness. Elissa tried to peek over his shoulder but he noticed and snapped the book shut from her prying eyes with a small smirk.
"What, are you writing a note to buy some for yourself? Sorry to break it to you Master Tethras but you couldn't pull it off," she tutted with mock sincerity which earned her a light snicker from Solas. "Solas on the other hand could definitely make those trousers work."
Solas abruptly stopped laughing which caused Cassandra to snort inelegantly; allowing for Varric to write an additional note about them all undisturbed. Elissa could only imagine the tales the dwarf was spinning about them, but she yearned to be there when it was all over; sat by the fire to hear him recount their tales just like he had about Hawke and their friends. She could envision it, everyone- right there with her as they listened to the storyteller well into the night. The madness they were currently fighting, nothing more but an entertaining memory to warm them for years to come.
A distant tolling of a clock let her know just how late it was, reminding her that she had yet to rest since leaving Val Royeaux earlier that morning. Elissa suggested that they head back to their lodgings and get cleaned up and get whatever rest there was to be had. They had to have their wits about them, she knew that for sure. She could almost hear Leliana in her ear, a faded memory playing in her mind. 'You cannot enter an Orlesian event without arming yourself. Douse yourself in etiquette and only speak if you can promise a chance of intrigue; pair it with the right shoes, Lissa- and they cannot touch you!'
Unfortunately for her she only had the boots the Inquisition had commissioned for her, it would just have to be enough for First Enchanter Vivienne... whoever the hell she was. Elissa squeezed her eyes shut to try to block the ringing in her ears and the creeping pain across her temples as the memory faded away, the pit of worry in her stomach descending ever further. Each time she gained a memory it was always accompanied by pain. She could not shake the feeling that whatever her mind was hiding from her was so sinister, that it may be better to continue on as she was. That whatever her past held, was better left forgotten.
Orlesians.
She couldn't have been bloody Orlesian. The only one she could stomach for any great length was Leliana. Of course she understood pomp and pageantry but these people took it to a level she could not grasp. A part of her appreciated the beauty of it all; their architecture, their fashion and the general opulence the empire held- but if she had to listen to another Orlesian noble harp on about some random Vicomte or Baroness she would try to drown herself in the shallow fountain in the centre of the room.
She had already managed to convince a Comte and Comtesse that everything they heard about her and the Inquisition was true. She was just about to tell them that at night bluebirds came down from upon high, to lift up her blankets and tuck her in and sing her sweetly to sleep. Unfortunately a particularly sour fellow interrupted her and started challenging her to a duel. She was about to accept and thus escape the inane drivel of the salon when ice encased the man, not letting him move, let alone breathe.
Did she do that? She had thought that was getting her magic under control but-
"My dear Marquis, how unkind of you to use such language in my house... to my guests. You know such rudeness is- intolerable."
Oh thank goodness. It wasn't her.
Their host, a fiercely clad woman in ivory and silver, turned on her heel to address her. "My Lady, you are the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?"
Elissa did not bother to glance over at the frozen Marquis in case the irrational thought of smashing him to bits with her staff proved too tempting.
"I did not come here for the Marquis or to take heed of any nonsense he or anyone else may espouse. Truthfully he bores me, so I leave him to you, to do as you please with him," she replied, trying to sound as aloof as possible to play to the crowd that had stopped to watch their every move. She slowly released her held breath to ensure her nervousness remained hidden; relieved their host had chosen to spare the idiot, publically humiliate him true, but spared him nonetheless. Whilst she certainly didn't like him, she would never wish him dead.
Once the Marquis made his shameful exit and the rest of the party had spread out to continue with their Orlesian style revelry, the mage motioned for Elissa to follow her to a more private area to talk.
"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court," she declared so confidently that had she offered her hand to Elissa, she would have taken it and kissed it without a moment's hesitation. "I wanted to meet you face to face, it is important to consider one's connections carefully. As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause."
She bristled at the term "loyal mages" but decided not to prod at the snap happy First Enchanter lest she be turned into the next ice sculpture of the salon.
"Why seek me or the Inquisition out, Lady Vivienne? You seem quite well off here already as First Enchanter and Enchantress to the Empress, what's in this for you?" Elissa questioned wanting to understand this woman's motivations. She watched as the Enchanter smirked and tilted her chin up, somehow making herself seem even more larger than life than before.
"The same thing anyone gets by fighting this chaos. The chance to meet my enemy and to decide my fate. I will not wait quietly for destruction," she declared, her body language screaming at Elissa to dare to contradict her.
She had to give it to the evening's host, she was every bit as fierce in persona as her bold choice in attire. Perhaps she had found another Orlesian she didn't immediately want to kill by choking them with their own frilled collars.
"The Inquisition will be happy to have you, Lady Vivienne," she smiled as she called over a wandering server with sparkling wine and took two long stemmed glasses, one for each of them. Vivienne quietly thanked her and offered the rim of her glass for Elissa to clink against her own in celebration.
"Great things are beginning, my dear. I can promise you that," she proclaimed before taking a long sip.
"Oh of that I've no doubt First Enchanter," Elissa agreed, raising her glass up in salutation to the frost mage. "No one dressed as fabulously as you are could promise no less." Vivienne's mouth pouted and twitched at the corners, Elissa surmised that was the Orlesian equivalent of a smile.
"My darling, oh I do think I actually like you. Well done," she acknowledged as she moved back into the thrall of nobles, leaving Elissa to her own questioning whether gaining the Enchantress' approval was something to be applauded or feared.
"I just got back Leliana," Elissa groused as she stared down the Spymaster from across the war table. At least the redhead had the humility to look abashed by her request. To think she had just literally swung her leg off of Charlotte and handed her reins to Master Dennett, when a scout raced out letting her know that her presence was requested inside the Chantry. Maker be praised that she didn't need to relieve herself first, perhaps have something to eat or even try to pretend the inside of her thighs weren't burning something dreadful due to the travel to and from Val Royeaux. If there was one thing Elissa was damned sure of, she was going to teach the former Left and Right Hands of the Divine some bloody patience.
"I understand that Herald, and I would not think to ask if it were not important," she implored as she pointed to a mark on the Hinterlands. "This is the last known sighting of the Warden."
Elissa scratched at her neck in irritation, racking her brain for a reason why Leliana thought it imperative for them to find some random Warden, it wasn't even about Darkspawn, what good would the Grey Wardens be?
"Surely it is more important for me to get to Redcliffe and meet with Fiona and see if she and the other mages would join our cause? Can we not look for him on the way back after speaking to her, or better yet, after we've finished what needs to be done with the Breach?" she asked, pointing at the map herself. "It does not make sense that we wander around the entire expanse of that countryside looking for one man, that has nothing to do with what we're trying to accomplish here."
Leliana looked like she wanted to smack Elissa on the back of the head but instead plotted the proposed course she would take with her finger in order to find this Warden Blackwall.
"I am not sure that is entirely true Herald," she stated, waiting for Elissa to show curiosity at what she said before continuing. "The Grey Wardens have now disappeared both in Ferelden and in Orlais, and we need answers as to why. My last contact here within the Wardens has stopped responding to me and I hear no reports at all from Vigil's Keep… we cannot rule out that they know something that we do not, and knowledge is everything. Warden Blackwall is the best key to get that knowledge."
Elissa sighed heavily and acquiesced, she knew that Grey Wardens were important to their world and with all the craziness that had been happening, she would be foolish to discount the possibility that something had happened to them too. She was not happy about it, but she would do it. The weary mage gathered up all the missives relating to the Warden and carefully placed them in her pack before giving the Sister a withering glare.
"I did not mean you had to go right away Elissa!" she called out as she made her way out of the Chantry.
"There's no need for me to get comfortable if all I'm to do is leave again, I'll just restock on some supplies and be on my way," she sniped over her shoulder, waving to Josephine as she passed her office. "See you when I see you."
Josephine rushed from behind her desk to see the Herald stomp off into the village, clearly annoyed but still kind enough to say hello to everyone who greeted her. Leliana looked over at the diplomat and shrugged, unsure if she should go after her and try to make nice before she left the camp again.
"Did you tell her why you were sending her out there instead of one of your scouts?" Josie asked, already knowing the answer.
Leliana shook her head and pursed her lips, thinking of the best way to reply to her Antivan friend. She retreated back to the war room knowing that the ambassador would follow until she received her answer.
"No Josie, I did not tell her the reason I sent her," she relented as she carefully slid herself onto the corner of the table.
"Was that not your mistake then? If you told her why you thought it was important maybe she would have been more understanding?" she reproached her, looking far too similar to a Reverend Mother admonishing her young initiates.
"Because the last time I told her something she passed out Josie," she bit out more harshly than she intended. "So I thought, if she were to meet with a warden, talk to them, perhaps that would help jog her memory naturally and she wouldn't have to go through more pain."
Josephine gave her a sad but understanding smile and motioned for Leliana to make room for her on the table to sit beside her.
"Alright, that makes sense. But why did we have to send her? We know where he is and we could have invited him here to Haven, ready to speak to her," she asked, trying to understand her reasoning. Leliana opted to keep those reasons secret, mainly because they were not hers to say. She had gleaned from her time with both Elissa and Alistair that not only could they sense darkspawn, they could also sense other wardens. If Elissa could feel whatever it was they felt when looking for the Warden, perhaps that was the key to unlocking who she was.
"The more she is seen out in the field, doing the people's work- they will see through the lies the other clerics have been spewing about her, about the Inquisition. She needs to be seen amongst the people and not someone leading an army to take over Thedas," she said instead, not entirely a lie, but definitely not the whole truth. It would be of great benefit indeed to their cause for the people to see Elissa as one of them, though it would be even better if they saw the Herald of Andraste was also the Hero of Ferelden.
Josephine linked arms with her and lay her head on Leliana's shoulder, enjoying the reprieve from her never ending mountain of correspondence.
"You do realise you will have to somehow make it up to her, yes? She had been on the road for quite a while with little to no rest... she probably feels more like the Inquisition's lackey than any sort of Herald," she said, jostling her friend slightly when she did not reply.
"I know, I'll speak to her when she gets back..." Leliana faded off at the sharp look Josephine gave her, "...after she has had a long rest and is ready to discuss things with me."
Josephine smiled proudly and nodded her approval at the Spymaster's change of tactics then hopped off the table.
"A fine plan, perhaps you could make a night of it then? I could give you one of the bottles of wine I've brought along from my family's vineyard and you can both get drunk and bond like two noble ladies sneaking into the cellar after a ball."
"That sounds awfully like something you are suggesting from your personal experience, Lady Montilyet," Leliana chuckled as the diplomat's mouth opened and closed in surprise.
"Of course not Sister Leliana," she gasped, smoothing down the front of her blouse. "I would never sneak and I would also never wait until after a ball, all the best wine would have already been drunk."
The bloody pack would not stay fastened to Charlotte no matter what she did; she could not tell if she had managed to forget how to secure the damned thing in the two hours she was back in Haven or if the bag had somehow broken. Elissa pulled it down to inspect it closer, only for the loosened flap to open and spill out her newly acquired provisions. She threw her bag down and raised a shaking hand to shield her eyes from the midday sun, unsure if she was going to swear or scream or cry. Maybe all three, she deserved to treat herself.
She heard someone greet her and looked down at her feet. A man was bent over picking up her dropped items, brushing off the dirt and snow from each object before carefully placing them into her pack.
"Oh Commander, you don't have to do that-" she started, ducking down to help him.
"It is no trouble," he interrupted her, giving her a warm smile. "Sometimes this is the Maker's way of telling us to stop for a moment."
"Is this the Commander's way of ordering me to stop for a moment?" she questioned, grin playing at her lips at the way he paused at her gentle teasing.
"Not so much an order as it is wise counsel. It will do you well to take a second before heading out to -?"
"The Hinterlands. Leliana wants me to go out and search for a random man in a random place," she frowned as she threw the rest of her belongings into the pack to save any further embarrassment at having the head of the army pick up after her, like the parent of a petulant child after throwing a hissy fit.
"Certainly, and as uh, important as that mission sounds, it would serve you better to have some rest and go back out there with your head screwed on straight. I've seen many great soldiers not come back because they were too tired to think clearly," he explained as he secured her bag and attached it to the back of Charlotte- who did not look impressed to be travelling so soon, much like her mistress.
Elissa could not argue it was indeed wise counsel. She remembered seeing soldiers come back from a campaign and some so weary they did fall off their horses. She hissed when a sharp pain exploded from the back of her eyes and she fell against her horse for support. Cullen's gloved fingers gently took hers in hand- she had not realised she had clasped them around her face- and pulled them down to examine her.
"Herald, are you alright?" he asked, panic colouring his voice. Elissa slowly opened one eye and then the other, afraid another pang would hit her. The world unblurred and she was looking into warm pools of honey, scanning her face and hands frantically for any injury. "Did something hit you? Are you unwell? I should call for Solas-" he scrambled, already waving for the nearest scout to come to him.
Elissa stilled him and waved back the running scout, apologising for scaring him over nothing and that she was perfectly fine.
"Fine is it? Is that why you're still holding onto my arms to stand upright Herald?" he said, calling her out on her little white lie.
"Jokes on you Commander, I was just holding onto you because I'm trying to steal this fantastic surcoat of yours, it is far prettier than anything I own and- ah!," she gasped as another bout of pain attacked her senses, her fingers clinging onto his armguards.
Ignoring her protests he guided her over to the closest tent and sat her down, he had thought to carry her but he was not sure what that would do to her pride and for the troop's morale. To them, she really was the Herald of Andraste and he was not going to shatter any illusions that kept their spirits high.
"Please stay here, have something warm to drink and you can get some rest-"
"Truly, Commander, it's fine, I'm fine-"
"No, you're not. So now it is an order. You will stay here until I or Solas give you clearance, do you understand me Herald?" he asserted as he pressed a cup of freshly brewed tea into her hand, wrapping his hands around her smaller one to make sure she had a safe grip on it.
Elissa stared up at him, even as he knelt down and crouched forward; he was so much bigger than she was. Everything about him was large and strong. The pain she felt swiftly receded and replaced with a rush of something else, his touch and manner firm but gentle... Elissa get a grip, he was just helping because you're their Herald of Andraste, stop deluding yourself woman. Just drink the damn tea.
"...I'm not hearing a 'Yes Commander' there, Herald," he smirked, thoroughly enjoying the way she licked her lips as she looked up at him. The Maker preserve him, he was going to be struck down by lightning.
"Yes Commander," she whispered as she brought the cup to her lips, watching him watch her with rapt fascination. It was not until he recognised his gloves that he realised his hands were still wrapped around her hand and the cup.
Cullen could feel his face flood with colour to the tips of his ears as he released her suddenly and fell back, almost losing his balance.
"Commander! We need your assistance here Ser!," a lieutenant called out to him, allowing him to escape and save face. He repeated that she needed to rest and that he would be back shortly but to call out if she needed anything, not quite able to meet her gaze for fear he would combust.
He hadn't meant to flirt with the woman, he had only wanted to help her. He had seen her ride in with the others and was glad to see that they were all in one piece and seemed in good spirits which surprised him considering the reports that were sent from their trip to Val Royeaux. However they did come out of it with new merchants and allies so it was not all for naught.
Cullen still hadn't made up his mind about the Herald since his last chat with her. He could clearly see that they looked like the same person but it was just too fantastical to think of someone coming back to life just to help them out of the mess they were in. The Maker had long abandoned them, or so said the Chantry, so why would he send her?
As he watched her head into the main camp he could not help but watch her walk away; he was not a blind man, and she was for all intents and purposes a very beautiful woman- one who happened to look like Elissa Cousland's twin. Back in the day, there were talks of the Hero of Ferelden being a warrior whose beauty dazzled both the darkspawn and the Fereldan nobles into submission. Bullshit. Even as angry as he was back in the Tower, he knew the woman could fight and had both talent and spirit enough to defeat demons and abominations, it was not just about her appearance. Yet he had to admit, looking as she did probably assisted more than inhibited her... and probably why she was so free with her charms; he doubted anyone would deny her whatever she wanted, especially if what she wanted was them.
One of the recruits slipped and he helped them up with a hearty pat on the back, Cullen told them to take a quick break before heading back out to complete the drills, when he remembered that it had been more than an hour since he had left the Herald. She was probably long gone by then, already taken that horse and rode off into the Hinterlands to do what was needed, why would she heed his order? Still he made his way to where he left her to find her sitting closer to where the soldiers trained, hands holding the empty cup and watching them go through the exercises with a look of wonder and appreciation on her face. He could not help but be amused by the sight, after all he probably looked exactly the same when a group of Templars had arrived in Honnleath and he trailed after them day after day, completely awed by their skill and knowledge.
Cullen took a seat beside her but she did not notice, her attention too focused on the recruits using a sword and shield. Her eyes darted back and forth as they sparred and her smile grew wider each time one of them managed to successfully complete an attack or block one. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she placed the cup down and leaned forward, her chin resting on the heel of her mark-free palm, grinning as the spar grew more intense. Finally the more experienced soldier managed to find an opening and struck the recruit in the side, winding the young man and causing him to fall to his knees and surrender.
"Oooh poor dear, he should have kept that shield up," she muttered to herself as she clapped for them both nonetheless.
"Have you ever held a sword before Herald?" he asked, genuinely interested if the woman had any skill for melee combat with something other than a staff. She sat still and continued to watch the other soldiers so he had thought she hadn't heard him and was about to repeat himself, when he noticed her shoulders moving up and down slowly and her lips pressed tightly together to hold in her laughter. What was so funny that she had to- "Oh, you're just as bad as my men!" he scoffed as her giggles bubbled out of her.
"My apologies Commander, but truth be told, I don't remember if I've ever held a sword."
"Well, would you like to try? Oh- Herald would you stop laughing!" he crowed, unable to hold back his own grin at her japes. "Would you like to train with the troops? Only if you're feeling up to it of course."
"Why Commander, I thought you would never ask."
Elissa beamed and stood up with her hand extended to help him to his feet which he accepted happily. As he pushed himself up he realised he was standing too close to her to be considered proper, with less than one arm's length between them. Cullen stepped to her side and led her towards an open area where she had more room to practise without too many soldiers to stare at her.
Cullen went over to a nearby weapons rack and picked out one of the training longswords, probably the same weight as her current staff, perhaps even lighter.
"Try this one Herald, tell me how it feels."
"Cullen if you keep making it this easy to make everything you say into a double entendre we will literally be out here all day," she smirked as she manoeuvred the sword in her hands to see what felt most comfortable for her.
"Truly, that mouth of yours will get you into trouble one day," he snickered before realising what he just said, throwing his hands up in the air in mock surrender. "Let's just begin with a basic attack. Now first put your left foot forward and the right behind you- yes like that. Now make sure your hips are facing your opponent and not on an angle. Sword held at your shoulder height."
"Like this?"
"Yes. Now grip the handle firmly, starting with both hands, and what we want are smooth, fluid motions. We want to close the distance between you and the enemy, but when you move forward ensure you move out of their line of attack- whether that is to the left or right is up to you- this way you are ready for any counterattack. From here bring your sword down in one straight swing down towards their head and neck."
Elissa looked at him unsure of herself, she had just gotten used to her staff and that had taken weeks. She could only imagine how long she would have to be at the training dummies before she could do anything that looked remotely like an attack. She had to remind herself that he was very used to seeing men and women take their swings during training and she couldn't embarrass herself that badly in front of him.
Ah, stupid girl. You made that sound like a challenge. Not only will you not stop flirting with him, you will now be able to show him how bad you are at actually holding a sword. Double entendre or not. Bravo.
"Is the sword too heavy, Herald?" he asked when she stood there unmoving, silently berating herself. "I can get you another, perhaps we have a wooden training sword somewhere-"
"By wooden sword do you mean that toy sword that one of the tavern server's son plays with?" she questioned incredulously, almost offended at the idea she looked that weak she could only lift a child's play thing. Cullen didn't answer except for a shrug as his smile broadened, his silence enough to light a fire under her to prove him wrong. With her self-consciousness all but gone, Elissa moved toward the practice dummy and swung down, easily slicing the burlap where the neck would have been.
The Commander blinked a couple of times to register what happened; most times people who had never held a sword would miss or move very clumsily, however the Herald moved with no hesitation and in one clean sweep. It could have been beginner's luck of course.
"Again Herald," he instructed, gaze fixed at the sword in her hand.
Elissa nodded and completed the exercise another three times without being prompted, each swing powerful and effortless as if she did not have to think about it at all. However he supposed after weeks on the road the training with Cassandra could have prepared her much better than anyone expected- even if with a completely different weapon. He called over a recruit and told him to run to the tavern and ask for an assortment of vegetables varying in size, whatever they had that was already turning and about to be thrown away or fed to the animals.
Whilst he waited for him to return, he continued to observe the Herald who had started to move with more confidence and had experimented with different angles of the sword to hit the top of the head, the shoulder, the top of the arm- in almost a practised pattern. He could not deny that she held great promise and could not discard the idea that she had previously been trained, or at least began her training in swordsmanship prior to the Conclave.
The scout returned with a small crate of cabbages, onions and potatoes to pass to Cullen. Thanking him as a dismissal, Cullen carried the humble assortment of produce towards a nearby wooden post where they were about to build a new dummy to train on. Carefully he balanced the largest cabbage on top of the post and called the Herald over, still practising the simple attack.
It is one thing to be able to attack a large target, if she could control her sword to accurately slice the vegetables up there could be no doubt she was either a prodigy or she had been previously taught.
She came over to him and wiped the sweat that had already formed around her hairline, her sword held up with the tip in the air and the flat of the blade against her shoulder. The proper way to travel with an unsheathed sword; not that he had taught her that, nor was it something she would have had the opportunity to see from any of the soldiers around camp.
"Herald, could you please try to aim for this cabbage using the move you've been practising?" he said, gesturing to it.
Elissa stared at him as if he had grown another head.
"Come now, you were doing a fine job with that now dummy. If that was a person they'd be well and truly dead."
"Yes, but that dummy had an unnaturally large head. That cabbage is much more head sized and not attached to anything else I can stab," she rebutted, trying her best to dissuade the Commander of this idea.
"Unfortunately for you, you'll find most people have more head-sized heads than not," he pointed out, stepping outside of her sword's range so she could begin. "Please, just try your best. If we find this is not something you're able to do yet, it is something we know we need to work on."
"Has anyone told you how annoying it is when you're being logical and right?" she mumbled but still fell into the correct stance.
Cullen laughed through his nose and tried his best to suppress the smug smile that threatened to bloom across his mouth. "Not today... or at least not out loud, Herald."
Elissa took a deep breath and then another, completely focused on the cabbage with its browning edges and smaller area for attack. She imagined the arc of her blade, the way it would cut through the air and where it would end. Her feet moved and then her arm, smooth and clean, the cabbage lying in twain on the ground. Not a perfect cut down the middle but still, if that were a head- the person would not be alive to mock her for a less than stellar hit.
Without missing a beat Cullen took out a large potato and set it where the cabbage was upon the post.
"Again, please," he asked, his hand motioning towards the brown vegetable.
"Commander-"
"You did not think you could hit the cabbage. You did. Just try it, please."
Elissa huffed and got back into position, shaking her head in disbelief. The man was being stubborn and pushing the limits of her abilities.
The arc of your blade. The sound of the air it cuts. The point of your sword when the swing is done.
Two portions of the potato lay near the man's feet and he let out a low whistle of appreciation. She had great control, strength and aim, that much was assured.
"Hey, would you look at that! I did it! Commander did you- what the actual-... Cullen!" she screeched as he threw an onion at her without warning. Instinctively she cut down the projectile enough to deflect it from hitting her. "What the heck? Are we just pelting the Herald of Andraste with spoiled vegetables now? I expected this when I first woke up from the Conclave not bloody weeks after, man!" she ranted with no particular heat behind her words.
"My apologies Herald of Andraste," he saluted, his eyes fixed on her as he grinned. "I just had to see."
"See what? If I'd look better with a black eye?" she voiced, cleaning the juices off the blade on the back of her forearm. "I'll save you the wondering, I do not. Just ask Cassandra when one of the rogue Templars out in the Hinterlands managed to land a punch on me. Looked like an angry little badger for a week. Though it smarted for longer than that- the bastard."
Cullen's smile quickly faded at the thought of someone from his previous order hitting her and turned solemn immediately. Of course he knew that everyone there was in danger and anyone at any time could get injured or killed; but the idea of her being hurt in particular, did not sit well with him. It was probably because she did not sign up like he did, joined the Inquisition out of necessity and not out of free will. Probably because she was so easy to get along with and helped boost the people's determination by her mere presence. Something like that. Probably.
"I am sorry to hear it Herald, and no, it is not something I would like to see on you," he said gravely, something in his tone making Elissa look up at him. "I uh, I mean anyone. Anyone within the Inquisition of course. I hate the idea of anyone under my charge getting hurt, of course."
"Of course," she smiled politely, the warmth not quite reaching her eyes as they normally did.
"I just needed to see if you were able to hit a moving target and you could, quite well considering the size of the object," he praised her, pointing at the ground where the pieces of onion had landed. "It is not something a green swordsman could do, especially when they were not expecting it. You have been trained Herald, the only question is how much."
Elissa rested the sword against a nearby dummy and pondered on his assessment. She had to admit that she felt more at home with a sword than she did with a staff, something familiar and comforting in the movements. Perhaps that earlier memory of the army was of her in an army. Was she part of the King's Guard? Made sense why she knew what the name of the pub in Denerim was...
"... I would like to test this, but the only way to do it is get you out there and to fight someone. Would that be something you're interested in doing?" he questioned, already thinking of the best suited soldiers to call upon.
"What? Oh, yes that would be fine," she agreed, not quite understanding what she had consented to until Cullen returned with a handful of his troops who looked a little too thrilled to be chosen to help train the Herald of Andraste.
"Are you ready Herald?" he asked as one of the newer recruits walked toward her with his sword still sheathed.
"Good day Herald, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Devon," the young man said. Elissa looked over the lad and he couldn't be a day over 18, a child fighting a war.
"Good day Devon, thank you for helping me today," she replied as kindly as she could, hoping he wouldn't notice the tinge of sadness in her voice.
"Not at all Herald, it's the least we could do," he chirped excitedly, drawing out his training sword.
"Begin!" Cullen yelled out, surprising the two fighters.
Elissa registered that she was starting to panic, going from dummy to flying onion to person was a massive change in the space of an hour but it was too late to object. Devon was side stepping in a circle and she followed in suit, not entirely sure what she was doing but it was better than becoming a still target for him to wallop.
"Devon, we've established the Herald can walk, please do something else," Cullen instructed from the sidelines, watching the both of them intently.
"Yes Ser!" he called out before flashing Elissa an apologetic expression and swung at her, which she clumsily evaded. He tried again but she managed to parry his swing and rotate the blade with such force the sword flung out of the soldier's hand.
"Next!"
"What, next?"
"Good afternoon Herald, my name is Edmund," he said quickly before running at her with his sword ready to thrust into her abdomen. Elissa squawked as she jumped out of the way, almost tripping over her feet as she put more space between her and her opponent. She calmed herself and set herself in position to brace for attack and allowed Edmund to rush her, eyes fixed on him like a hawk, reading his movements to effectively block each incoming swing. She had stopped thinking and allowed her body to take over, it seemed to know what to do and her thoughts were only getting in the way.
There, she thought as she realised how open he left himself whenever he tried to attack from above. Without a second's hesitation she reared back and placed a well-aimed kick to the left of his groin, hard enough to push him back and pretend to stab him through the stomach where he lay.
"Lysette, your turn!"
"Lysette? She's a bloody trained Templar!" Elissa panted, whipping her braid back with a flick of her head.
"Do not worry Herald, I will not harm you," the taller warrior said, saluting to her before pulling out both her sword and shield.
"I have a new found empathy for your recruits Commander," Elissa quipped, sending him a glare which he accepted with grace.
"I'll be sure to relay that to them all," he replied proudly. If all of the new recruits learned to fight like the Herald then they truly stood a chance to defeat whatever was coming. "Keep your wits about you now, this will be a real fight. Lysette might be a newer Templar but she has been well trained."
It hadn't escaped Elissa that more of the army had noticed their sparring and had stopped their training to look, no matter how hard the Lieutenants had tried to refocus their attention. Lysette looked ready to dive into their duel whilst Elissa suddenly felt like the tavern server's son with a toy sword playing at war. Lysette, armoured and imposing with her sword and shield, bowed graciously before charging at her.
The Templar was indeed well trained, with precise strikes and practised defence, it was all Elissa could do to stay on her feet and not have her head rung like a bell. Lysette pressed her advantage forcing Elissa to retreat from her step by step.
Elissa wanted to surrender, there would be no shame in it, she was outmatched. She was just not at the other woman's level and she should have been proud that she lasted for as long as she had. But the words would not come out of her mouth, too bitter for her to say; the words just fizzled on her tongue as she bore her relentless strikes one after another. Her pride would not stand for it. She would rather be knocked unconscious than to say she would give up, and once again she cursed her predilection for putting herself in circumstances that could get herself killed.
In her mind, she pretended to be a seasoned warrior, determined to at least put up a fight. She blocked, parried and attacked, and though she may have looked a fool- at least she wasn't a quitter. Elissa's blunted longsword continued to fend off Lysette's once confident advances, slowly turning the tide for the mage.
Elissa knew she had to end things quickly in fear she really would fall to a well-aimed blow as she could feel the effects of the fight start to weigh down her arms. She spotted a shield on the ground near where Devon and Edmund stood and seized her moment; stealing and attaching it easily as Lysette hunted her down. Did she know how to wield it properly? Who knew, but she did know that her left arm felt like it was missing something whilst she fought and she knew she would only be balanced with a shield to hold on to. Or maybe hide behind.
The additional heft on her arm briefly slowed her movements as she adjusted herself, but found she was filled with a renewed vigour, this is it, this is who she was. Sword and shield, this was the Elissa she should be.
She parried Lysette's strikes and delivered a series of powerful shield bashes that pushed her adversary back awestruck. Both women, exhausted and battered, locked eyes in a moment of mutual respect. It would be shameful for Lysette to keep fighting an opponent who was obviously well trained but just not at their best, and thus she withdrew to not debase herself by continuing.
"A draw for now then," Cullen said as he dismissed the other recruits. "A testament to you both."
"A rematch though? In time?" Elissa called out to the Templar, who simply saluted to her again with a genuine smile on her face.
Elissa waved goodbye to everyone before she sunk down to the ground, driving the sword into the ground and holding onto the hilt for balance. Cullen had someone bring over a water skin and offered it to her, which she thankfully accepted and guzzled down more than half the contents, only pausing to gulp an equal amount of air.
"Would you like to hold a sword, he says, need to know if I'm trained, he says- truth of the matter is the Commander of the Inquisition is just a sadist with a cute smile," she wheezed, emptying the remainder of the skin's contents. Swinging and fighting with her staff was one thing, her muscles had become accustomed to moving in a completely different way and there were no jarring vibrations from the clash of steel to contend with. However, no matter how tired and sore she was, she could not remove the large smile off her face.
Cullen knelt back down and rested his arm against his raised knee, a shy smile playing at his lips.
Oh curse that scar, how is it right that a scar could add to someone's looks? Bloody ridiculous.
"In truth, I had started with the intention for you to sit and maybe have something to eat, so you could rest and travel safely. I had not meant for you to massacre my troops so efficiently," he admitted, massaging the back of his neck awkwardly. Elissa rolled her eyes comically and exhaled loudly, looking over the sheepish man. She proffered her hands out as a sign of peace and the Commander took them willingly, helping her up like she was just another training sword. She supposed wearing such heavy armour and swinging around weapons all day would tend to make one quite strong.
Elissa took a moment to steady herself and did not relinquish her hold on the Commander's hands, not that he seemed like he was in a hurry to reclaim them.
"At the very least, Commander, I had a lot of fun and we can now be sure of two things."
Cullen looked at her and raised his eyebrows in wait for her revelation, quite aware he was still holding the Herald's hands but in no rush to release her. She was tired after all, she may be unstable on her feet.
"Whoever I was before I woke up here, I was a warrior. Whether that was to hide my magical abilities or if they were just dormant, I do not know," she explained looking up at him, marvelling at how tall he seemed but if she was just bold enough to stand on her tiptoes...
"And the second?" he queried, his voice naturally lowering, much to his surprise, as he tried to ignore how well her lashes framed her eyes.
"That as a warrior, I have in fact, held many, many swords," she affirmed, her mouth spreading into a smile that spanned from ear to ear.
Cullen let go of her hands and raised his own in defeat, releasing a peal of laughter loud enough for some nearby troops to hear over the din of the training yard.
"You are impossible, Herald, even when exhausted you are impossible!"