The journey to Crestwood was different from what Elissa had expected. She had grown accustomed to only having a small team with her, not a small regiment, and it took her time to adjust. There were at least 30 soldiers that accompanied them along with the Commander, and their normally intimate and quiet camp was filled with the bustling noises of Skyhold, albeit on a much smaller scale. All that was missing was Maryden singing and more ale being consumed, and she could almost believe she was still there. Except for all the rain- somehow, once they crossed over the Crestwood border, it just would not stop raining.

The introduction of the near-constant wet weather meant that she was spared from her nightly training sessions. She hadn't minded when it was just Solas or Cassandra individually- and she certainly did not mind any time she got to spend time with Cullen. It was when one of them decided they needed to train her together that her grief began ("Hahren, it was you, wasn't it!" "I have no idea what you speak of, Da'len"). It would not have been a bad idea if not for her getting pummelled every night.
She had previously thought she made great strides since first waking up in Haven, unable to conjure spells at will. Under the tutelage of some of Thedas' best mages, she quickly learned and gained such control that none would have assumed she was still relatively a novice. It was abundantly clear, however, that her abilities with a sword and shield were already ingrained into her, deep within her muscles and safe from her locked subconscious. She danced about like the weapons were part of her, an extension of her arms that moved without the need for thought and reliant on instinct alone.

Whilst they tried to keep the training a private affair, away from the prying eyes of the soldiers, it became impossible when the two mages started to fight each other, bright sparks of their mana clashing and revealing their location. It was not long before these lessons for Elissa turned into master classes for the soldiers, learning how to take on a mage or two at once, watching each of the combatants with fervour, eager to absorb as much as they could. After all, who knew when they'd get another chance to travel with the Inquisitor?Although it embarrassed her to no end to have everyone witness her spectacular failures – and so often- the experience only endeared her further to the troops. Knowing that even their leader could learn something meant that they, too, should not rest on their laurels and always be willing to improve.

Their final training session was particularly humbling for the Inquisitor. Her confidence had been dashed the moment Solas threw a stonefist in her blind spot at the exact moment Cullen and Cassandra had decided to land strikes on either side of her. They were so powerful that even when she blocked them, the effects of their attacks left her reeling. The Inquisitor was left with a very large bump on her temple and a thumping headache, both arms still up and struggling under the pressure the warriors were still submitting her to.

"We should stop here. The Inquisitor is a stubborn creature and will not give up until she passes out, and I should check on that head wound," Solas advised, the Commander and Seeker immediately stepping back at his words. The soldiers who had been allowed to watch all voiced their displeasure at the abrupt ending but still praised them all for their efforts.

Frustration bubbled beneath Elissa's skin as she stumbled through the camp, the stonefist spell having hit its mark a little too well. She could hear Solas apologising for it, but she waved him off, knowing that the enemy would not miss any opportunity to catch her unaware. He taught her a lesson she would not forget. The sadistic trio pushed her, each instructing her in their own way: Cullen imparted lessons about power and form, Cassandra about discipline and tenacity, and Solas urged her to feel the Fade and react to it, so even if a fist made of the earth were to be hurtled at her when blinded, she could still anticipate, evade or nullify it.

With each bout, Elissa had to remind herself that she was growing sharper, better. Even if, in the meantime, improvement meant she had to fall before rising stronger. It was becoming apparent to her that her strengths lay in not being the best swordsman or mage, but her ability to adapt and bring out what was required of her.

Solas fussed over her, ensuring the knock to the head didn't leave any lasting effects. The sting rapidly subsided as he finished up and regarded her thoughtfully.

"Worried, always worried, Eyes watching over and ready to teach, ready to catch. The responsibility of the world in the palm of her hand, not fair, not right."

"Cole," Solas chided gently as he tested the tender spot behind her ear, "what have I told you about just saying people's innermost thoughts and feelings?"
"... Not to do it," the young spirit pouted, running his hands through the damp grass he sat upon.

"I understand you want to help people; it is the very core of your being, but people keep things guarded for reasons all of their own. And sometimes, they keep things to themselves to keep others safe," the apostate explained, trying to press the lesson upon the rogue.

Elissa turned to appraise the spirit. He unsettled so many people with his ability to pop in and out of visibility and his innate ability to listen to their secrets and divulge them to the world. It was how she had originally learned of Bull and Dorian's blossoming relationship, much to the Tevinter mage's mortification. It was how she had learned that Vivienne approved of her recent reading material and Blackwall's want for a better knife so he could whittle a toy for the stable hand who was expecting their first baby in a couple of months. However, it was not hard to see that Cole's intentions were pure and he told her that information to help her feel closer to her companions.

He was also wicked talented with daggers, a jarring contrast that a spirit of compassion could be such an efficient assassin in the shadows. He took no joy in the lives he took; in truth, it pained him. He would often find the greater good in things to help reconcile the acts his hands committed, understanding that if he did not act, those he granted mercy to would not afford it to their victims.

"I killed the Red Templar, but the man inside- Garrick- he cried with joy. He was free; he was not hurting anyone anymore."

"That bandit did not know kindness. It was all gone. He was in pain, and so the rest of the world had to be in pain, too. He would not have learned. He would not have stopped. So I stopped him."

It was the main reason she always opted to keep him in Skyhold; she did not want to place him in any position where his nature had to continue being compromised. She could not fathom anything worse than for an embodiment of compassion to have to twist themselves to inflict pain on anyone, let alone kill them. She had wanted him safe behind the walls, to do small deeds that made people's lives better. Soothe those in pain and heal the wounds they did not know they had.

Unfortunately, Vivienne had to attend to matters at the Ghislain estate as quickly as possible, and Varric was stuck assisting Leliana and Josephine in responding to the influx of communication flowing into Skyhold. More of Thedas' faithful and nobility were learning of their new residence and quickly requesting audiences with Elissa and for the Inquisition's assistance. With the rest of her companions out in the Fallow Mire, she had no choice but to take him along. His skills and unmatched stealth were vital in their plan to retake Caer Bronach; she could not leave him behind.

"I want to help. I can be hard to see. I can kill things that want to hurt people," he had said simply when Elissa went to find him in Skyhold, loitering in the uninhabitable part of the tavern. She didn't even have the chance to ask him if he wanted to come along, but he must have heard her anxious thoughts approaching him from a mile away.

"I'm sorry. I hoped to spare you from having to kill anything," Elissa said sadly.

"I know," he replied with an awkward smile, one hand reaching to pat her on the top of her head like she had done for him so many times. "You're always thinking that way. You always have. Even though you can't see it. Hear it. You feel it. You know. You always spare everyone but yourself."

"...What do you mean by that?"

"Even without remembering, you already know. It is always a part of you. Even with magic, even with new breath, new lungs. You remain. You know."

"This is going to be a very long trip for me, won't it, Cole?" she asked, dread filling her gut as the spirit's smile waned.

"Yes."

"Wonderful."

At the very least, the boy hadn't been blurting out all her deepest secrets to everyone. Perhaps he considered the troops' dependence on their belief in her alleged divinity. Knowing that they would be devasted to find their saviour was nothing more than a normal woman who had fears and doubts just like them; the spirit must have thought it best to keep his mouth shut.

She was even more grateful that the flaxen-haired scamp didn't magically appear whenever she managed to spend time with the Commander. There was still the chance he would share her very private thoughts about the man, but at least she had a plan. She would open up a rift and jump in from sheer horror and let the demons there eat her face. It was not a good plan, but by the Maker, it seemed less painful than having to face Cullen.

All in all, the journey to meet their mysterious Grey Warden friend had been quite lovely when Elissa thought about it. Whilst she took every chance she could to speak to Cullen when she was in Haven or Skyhold, there was no time to truly get to know him. Of course, they would have a random chat, and she would say something inappropriate and make him blush, but then she would be off for weeks at a time, and they had to break the ice all over again to get the same level of closeness they had before she left. It was all probably in her head, but she knew there was something very different about being able to walk side by side with him, share each meal and spend time at the campfire every night before retiring for the evening.

During their travels, she learned he loved learning about history when he was still in the Chantry and that he tried to be an upstanding student but did get into his fair share of misbehaving.

"It's not easy watching the candles burn down as you recite the Chant of Transfigurations, no matter how good of a student you are!" he snorted as they rode side by side. She was thrilled when Cassandra and Solas suddenly decided they should travel at the back and allow them both to lead the team just as they had when travelling to Skyhold.

"I'm not judging you, Cullen! It's hard for me to pay attention at most war councils now, and I am not a 13-year-old boy gagging to run around and thrust my sword into everything."

Cullen chuckled and looked over to her with one cocked eyebrow.

"I don't know what it is about talking to you, but somehow, I always sound absolutely filthy, even when I don't mean to. I MEANT that you wanted to get out in the training field and work on your swordsmanship," she grinned, urging Charlotte to trot ahead, knowing that the man would not let her be alone for more than a moment."You are diabolical."

Elissa heard his quiet laugh followed by a command to his horse, and when she turned to her left, there was the Commander, beaming at her from ear to ear, looking more relaxed than she had seen him in weeks.

They spent their days discussing things like his love of reading and her love of the sea. She told him of her vague memories of spending hours swimming and frolicking along the beach. When Solas had briefly interrupted their talks to show her a rare variation of elfroot and inspired Cullen to tell her that had he not been a Templar, he would have become a farmer like his father. He quite enjoyed farming too; something about taking care of the crops and watching them grow and the joy of yielding their harvest was something he could have done for the rest of his life.

"Well, you still are when you think about it."

"How... so?"

"You are simply growing soldiers instead of wheat or potatoes. You cultivate them, give them the care and attention they need to thrive and survive and in the end, you have a force that you can be proud of."

"I guess I never thought about it from that perspective," he admitted pensively.

"You wouldn't. Like I've said time and again, you do not give yourself enough credit, Cullen," Elissa said kindly, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

He spoke of Honnleath and let slip he had a fondness for playing chess.

That was how they had found themselves at the end of the night by the fire, the Commander borrowing a board from one of his soldiers.

It was also how Cullen discovered that the Inquisitor was abysmal at chess.

"How are you so good at adapting on the battlefield and coming up with strategies on a whim, but not be able to play chess?"

"I don't know! How are you so good at playing the game?"

"Mia-"

"Your older sister?"

"Yes. Y-you remembered?" he asked quietly, shocked that the Inquisitor had remembered his sister's name. Elissa narrowed her eyes at him in confusion, wondering why the man was so surprised at this revelation. Had he thought she didn't listen to people when they talked?

"Why would I forget? You only told me two days ago. They're all in South Reach now, right? Probably waiting for word that you're still breathing, Mr I-do-not-write-as-often-as-I-should?" she chided as she took one of his pawns, wriggling on her seat in a celebratory dance.

"Ah, well. Yes, they are. And to answer your question, as a child, I played this game with my sister. She'd get this stuck-up grin whenever she won—which, of course, was all the time. My brother and I practised together for weeks. The look on her face the day I finally won..." he smiled as his thoughts drifted. "I wonder if she still plays..."

"Well, then you should keep up the practice for when you next see your sister," Elissa advised, resting her chin on an open palm as she held his gaze.

"I should. You're right," he nodded as he watched her make another terrible play on the board. "You know, this may be the longest we've gone without circling back to the Inquisition and related matters. To be honest, I appreciate the distraction. Ah, it's my turn," Cullen replied, grateful his move afforded him a moment to look away from her, any longer and he would find it near impossible to keep his word to Sister Leliana. He wanted nothing more than to lean over the chessboard, pull the Inquisitor closer to him and press his lips against hers. Especially when she worried at her bottom lip or slowly tapped at her mouth with a chess piece whenever she overthought her next move.

"Mhmm, well if you're to beat her, we should play more often. They say that the best thing you can do to deepen your understanding is to teach someone."
Feeling more brazen than he ever had, Cullen decided to playfully rib at her. "So, with that reasoning, I will be a grandmaster by the time you understand how to play."

Elissa's eyes widened, and her mouth opened with a large smile, guffawing at his cheeky comment. "See, you must get that from your sister, that smug little chess smile you're giving me right now."

"I am not smiling."

"Oh, but you are; your scar is doing that adorable little scrunch it does when you smile."

"You notice when my scar does a scrunch?" he questioned, not realising that anyone would pay any sort of attention to his face.

"Yup. I notice when you're angry, your right eyebrow twitches a little as you fight off a frown, but you always lose, and the frown always wins. Just when I think you can't look more serious, you always manage to surprise me. I notice when you're trying not to laugh at something one of your soldiers did, and your ears start to turn red. I notice that you do not like to drink very often and will opt for tea or juice when you're able to-"

"You know all this?"

"I am the Inquisitor; should I not know my comrades?"

"Of course. It's just…" Cullen trailed off as his heart jumped to his throat, astounded that Elissa spent any time paying attention to him. He cleared his throat and scratched at his cheek, praying to the Maker he wasn't smiling like a fool. " It's.. well… you take all that in, but can't see that I'm about to take your knight."

"My wha- Cullen!" she squealed in playful outrage, causing a few of the soldiers around them to look up at the noise. "Oh no, that's it. We will spend every spare moment during this trip playing this game until I can bloody well play somewhat decently. We should spend more time together anyway," she said without thinking too deeply about what her words could mean to him as she moved another piece on the board.

"I... would like that," he replied, excited about the prospect of more secluded chess sessions together.

"Me too."

"You said that," he pointed out, his tone deepening as he locked eyes with her. "But we should finish our game, right? My turn?... and with that, it seems this one is mine."
Elissa ran her tongue along the tips of her teeth and huffed in amusement as she surveyed the board. Cullen cleared his throat as his eyes followed the movement and readjusted himself on his seat, feeling more and more like a lecher each time he noticed something the Inquisitor did that turned his thoughts less than platonic.

"It seems luck has favoured you today," she grinned, not expecting the outcome to be any different.

"So it has. Shall I meet you tomorrow night for another game?"

"Oh? So you can enjoy thoroughly decimating me on this battlefield as well?"

"Absolutely. It is refreshing to see you fail so completely at something."

"See, I knew it. Sadist."

Cullen laughed heartily and extended his hand over the black-and-white board in a show of sportsmanship. Elissa playfully grimaced at him but took it easily, her hand fitting perfectly in his.

The land used to be quite beautiful. She was sure of it. If not for the perpetual storm and the ceaseless undead that seemed to spawn out of nowhere, hell-bent on attacking the living, it would have been a lovely little hamlet.

Elissa did not trust Mayor Dedrick; she desperately wanted to because he seemed to care for his people. However, alarm bells rang in her head that she could not ignore. He may have been worried for her and her team, but to see them all and not welcome them with open arms to help rid themselves of all their troubles baffled her. Even at the sight of Cullen and the soldiers that barricaded the town to fend off any stray undead from entering, he was too hesitant to accept her help, citing her safety as his main concern.

"Your people are dying. Your village will be destroyed- between the attacks of the monsters and men; there is no surviving this, Mayor Dedrick."

The Mayor eventually handed the key to the dam, allowing Elissa access to the rift in the OId Crestwood caves, the slight tremor in his hand not unnoticed by her. Elissa thanked him nonetheless and bid him farewell, returning to the town's main entrance to confirm how to split their teams to ensure the highwaymen did not catch wind of the large Inquisition force in town. Cullen divided the soldiers into groups, with at least ten men to stay behind to guard the town with Scout Harding's team after seeing its dire straits. The other twenty were to split up and surround the fort out of sight and remain hidden until the Inquisitor made herself known; only then would they raid Caer Bronach.

Cullen was about to head off with the last of the soldiers when a scream was heard further up the path. Elissa bolted towards the sounds of swords clanging, frightened that the bandits had started attacking the villagers instead of just the passing merchants. Instead, she found two Grey Wardens and a woman they protected from the undead.

"It's the Inquisitor!" the Warden archer cried out happily at spotting her.

"Then Andraste is with us!" said the other, using his body to shield the woman crouching behind him.

Elissa took in the scene and counted only a few remaining corpses and wasted no time in lassoing the monsters and sending them back to the Fade, their garbled screeches disappearing within moments. The Wardens swallowed at the green light that subsided and double-checked their surroundings to check it wasn't some sort of illusion.

"Are you all right?" Elissa asked, offering her hand to the woman on the ground. She looked at her palm nervously before tentatively sliding her hand into the Inquisitor's who pulled her up with a soft grunt.

"Yes, I am well now. Thanks to you and the Grey Wardens."

"I'd go back to the village, Miss. These roads aren't safe," the warrior said earnestly, the woman nodding vehemently before sprinting back home. "The Grey Wardens thank you for your aid, Inquisitor."

"They do not need to, but your thanks and assistance to that woman is appreciated. What are the Wardens doing in Crestwood? Are there darkspawn here as there were in the Storm Coast?"

The two men looked at each other, unsure if they were able to divulge anything without betraying the Order. After a moment of deliberation, the warrior finally answered, choosing his words with caution.

"Hunting one of our own. We have orders to capture Ser Alistair of Ferelden on sight. The man's slippery as an eel; we've been chasing him for weeks."

"What do you know about this rogue Warden?" Elissa asked, doing her best to hide her shock. They were still searching for him? And so close to finding him, too?

"Warden-Commander Clarel ordered his capture. I can say no more than that, but I do hope Alistair comes quietly. I'd rather not fight the man who helped kill that many darkspawn."

Elissa's heart started to skip faster in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm and appear only vaguely interested in their quest. She willed her mind to forget the way so many of the closed doors to her memories seemed to quake at the mere mention of Alistair. "Are you staying to fight the undead here? The people look like they could use all the help they can get," she asked steadily, biting the inside of her cheek to stop her from acknowledging the burgeoning pain in her right eye. The last thing she needed was for the Grey Wardens to have intel that the Inquisitor was weak and prone to fainting spells- she was sure Corypheus would love that information.

"We're sorry, Inquisitor. Our orders forbid it. Crestwood was only meant to be a detour. If the Inquisition can help, I beg you to do what you can. As your worship says, these villagers have already lost too many," the Warden warrior said solemnly, raising his fist to his chest in a salute. We must return. We bid you goodbye, and thank you again for your assistance. May the Maker continue to guide you."

"Farewell and safe journey to you both then," Elissa smiled and waved them both off, thankful they were on their way back to Orlais to Warden-Commander Clarel. The mage turned to her companions and sighed in relief. She instructed them to take some time to rest and eat; it would not be long before they would make for Caer Bronach and once there, there would be no respite for any of them.

The air in Crestwood was thick, and the constant humid weather made the rain feel like endless beads of sweat trickling down their bodies. Days of travel in their armour, coupled with the overwhelming feelings of hopelessness from the city's inhabitants, did little to lift anyone's mood. Elissa stood before Caer Bronach, the fort looming ominously against the stormy sky, her shoulders set and her face tense with a mix of concentration and apprehension.

"We can't let these highwaymen keep terrorising these people," she said softly to herself. She had already fought her share of undead and rabid wolves, so she could only imagine how difficult it was for the untrained townspeople scrambling to survive and for the merchants trying to get lifesaving provisions and wares in and out of Ferelden. Elissa wanted to relieve her foul temper by ensuring the opportunistic bastards paid for their selfishness. There were people dying, and all they cared about was more coin.

Solas furrowed his brow and caught her gaze, the weight of the world reflected in his violet eyes. "We will not. Your mastery of magic has improved significantly, Da'len; you are truly formidable whether with your staff or your sword," he remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice. "The battles to come will prove to the world why your people have chosen you to be their Inquisitor. Trust your instincts; they have served you well thus far, and know we are with you."

With a nod and a tentative smile shared with her tutor, the Inquisitor raised her staff, flames swirling at its tip as if the fire chased after the air that surrounded it to feast upon. She ordered everyone to stand back and instinctively fell into a stance she had practised with Dorian, her legs hip-width apart, knees bent with one foot forward- and closed her eyes.

The heat is in the air, in my veins and in the palms of my hands. It's there. And I am the spark.

Elissa opened her eyes and exhaled steadily. She reared her arm back and thrust it forward like she was plunging her blade into someone's torso and unleashed a tremendous gust of fire that illuminated the darkened planes surrounding her. Her one attack shook the giant doors and left a deep, large fissure in the newly charred wood. She repeated the spell twice over with no hesitation, shattering the massive doors with an explosive crack as loud as if she had conjured lightning, sending splinters flying and ash billowing into the air. "Let's go," she commanded, stepping through the smouldering entrance, her heart pounding.

As the smoke cleared, four Mabaris burst from the shadows of their kennels, their teeth bared and growling at them menacingly.

Cassandra stepped forward to stop their advance. "Come to me, you great beasts!" she taunted, shield and sword at the ready.

"Cassandra, your bravery is commendable, but these creatures are merely following their instincts," Solas called out while he raised barriers of shimmering blue magic that wrapped around his companions to protect them.

"I realise that, but they are not backing down, and their first instinct is to rip your throat out," she bit back, slamming her pommel into her shield to keep their attention on her alone. "Should I just let them do it?"

Before they could act, Cole vanished into thin air, reappearing on the upper levels to dance between the hidden archers preparing to rain arrows down upon them, taking them out one by one before they could fire a shot. "The dogs are scared, just like people," he called out, his words barely audible over the sound of his blades. "They think we're their enemies. That we're here to hurt their masters. I do not want to hurt them."

Elissa ignored them and focused her energy on directing a wave of frost towards the approaching dogs. With a precise flick of her wrist, she encased them in ice, freezing their legs in place without inflicting harm, the notion of hurting a Mabari completely repugnant to her. "We won't hurt them. We just need to get to the higher floors," she reassured him, her mouth pressed together in a determined line.

As they cleared the entryway, Cole reappeared next to them, eyes wide with urgency. "They all know we're here. They're getting ready to swarm us, like ants to a wasp; they want to climb upon us and tear us apart," he warned. "They think they're stronger in numbers. They do not know of the lion in wait."

Cassandra rushed out of the fort and raised her hand to signal Cullen and the regiment waiting in the shadows. Not wanting to lose their advantage, Cullen led the charge, his soldiers surging forward like a tide with their weapons drawn. "For the Inquisition!" he shouted, and the soldiers followed suit; their voices merged into a singular rallying cry as they passed the Inquisitor, knowing it was their job to take on the bulk of the highwaymen as she continued on.

Elissa's team pressed deeper into the fort, the sounds of battle crashing around them. As arrows whistled through the air, Solas weaved his spells to shield his companions and drew crowds of enemies together for her to finish off with strikes of lightning. Their heavy armour making them perfect conduits for her ire.

"Stay close, Da'len!" Solas called out to her, his voice steady despite the chaos. The Inquisitor caught his eye and nodded quickly, her voice stuck in her throat from the rush of adrenaline, too many thoughts coursing through her head to be able to speak. Elissa forced her mind to focus on the next encounter, trusting in her training to guide her movements. She could hear their troops behind her, the din of their battle slowly coming to an end, and she did not question that they were victorious. They had their Commander there to lead them, so she could focus her energy on only what was ahead. She tightened her grip on her staff, the familiar weight a comfort in her hands amidst all the turmoil around her.

They turned the corner and saw a cache of supplies the raiders must have stolen from the countless merchants who travelled through the city. Cole had appeared at her side, his threadbare shirt torn and drenched in blood. Elissa handed her staff to Solas and ran her hands over him in fear. Did spirits get hurt, and if so, did they bleed? How do you even heal a spirit?

"I am fine, Inquisitor. The blood is not my own. But the shirt is, and it is not as fine," Cole said, answering her unspoken concerns aloud. She was so relieved she didn't even tell him off for invading her privacy and simply hugged the boy to her, uncaring that her armour was getting even more filthy.

Elissa forced a vial of healing potion into each of her companions' hands, with Solas happily drinking his down while Cassandra tucked hers away in her pocket, much to Elissa's annoyance. She turned to each of them to ensure they were ready to continue, knowing there could only be so many spots left to hide for the head of this two-bit operation. She nimbly took the stairs two at a time, eager for the battle to end. It opened into a large area, and there stood three lieutenants, not one of them standing out to her as someone who would be the leader.

Once again the warm buzz of Solas' barrier coiled around her, reminding her that her team was still behind her and waiting for her next move.

"Cole-" she began, wanting to tell him to attack the archer, but before she could finish her thought, the rogue had already melted into the shadows, his penchant for reading thoughts on turning into a great boon on the battlefield. So long as he didn't repeat their enemies' thoughts aloud, they would be fine. It would be much harder for her to focus on fighting for her life when she heard about an axe-wielding thief thinking of a child back home they hadn't had the chance to meet.

Cassandra readied her shield and threw herself into a run, knocking down the closest warrior to them, the large man flying through the air and landing with a clamorous thud. Solas aimed a spell, weaving the nearby loosened stone and bricks into the chest of the third man to their right and Elissa almost felt winded upon the criminal's behalf. She knew firsthand how hard Solas' spells noticed that the men were protecting a staircase behind them which must have led to wherever their boss was hiding. She made her way toward the steps just as one of the biggest men she had ever seen started to make his way down, brandishing a large maul that looked almost as big as she was.

The atmosphere shifted with the Highwaymen's Chief's appearance into the fray. He stood tall, a sneer plastered on his face and raised his weapon with a threatening glare. "You think you can take this fort? You're fools!" he spat. Elissa's heart raced; she could feel her companion's eyes on her, their silent encouragement bolstering her nerves.

"We have already taken the fort as it belongs to the people of Crestwood. We have your men, they have been placed under arrest by order of the Inquisition. Tell me again, who is the fool?" she replied, her voice strong and clear. "Seems to me the correct answer is the cocky man who simpers in the shadow of his men and hides behind big walls, all the while flailing about a weapon to compensate for his lack of… honour; he is the fool. Last chance. Stand. Down. Or did you really want me to prove you don't know how to use that thing apart from polishing it every night?"

The battle erupted with the Chief's enraged cry. Elissa looked like she already knew every step of their intricate dance, her body moving naturally as if she were doing nothing more strenuous than breathing. Her staff crackled with energy each time she struck an exposed part of the man's body, each strike sending arcs of lightning sparking into the air with brilliant flashes. She dodged all of the Chief's blows, each one landing onto the stone floor with a heavy thud. Elissa thanked the Maker for her agility and lighter armour, which allowed her to move around him easily. "Cassandra, keep the flanks clear!" she ordered as two of his lieutenants stirred on the ground behind her. The Seeker leapt into action, her sword flashing like a beacon before running them through to keep the Inquisitor safe.

Cullen hurried up to meet the main team and aid in their fight after ensuring his soldiers had everything well in hand. He had arrived in time to witness the reason their organisation had gathered such strength so quickly, the Inquisitor and her team in the thick of the action. They cleared the path for their forces like a hot knife through butter, and apart from the assault on Haven, this was the first chance he had to watch what the woman was like in actual combat.

He did not know whether to be amazed at her and her team's prowess or be humbled by the knowledge that he wasn't required there at all. From what he saw, the four of them could have taken Caer Bronach by themselves if they had felt so inclined. He continued to watch from a distance, his heart pounding not just from the fights he won to get there, but also from the sight of the Inquisitor moving with such grace and power. Each hit she landed, whether physical or magical, fascinated him. Inspired him. It was not difficult to understand how she effortlessly drew people in wherever she went.

Cullen anticipated their next moves, keeping a close eye on her as she expertly countered each attack, embarrassed at the surge of pride he felt when she used a technique he had shown her only a few days before.

She really was amazing.

As the fight raged on, Elissa felt the effects of the battle start to slow her down, and she knew she did not have much more time before she ran out of stamina or mana- she had to finish it quickly. She let out a frustrated scream before releasing a shockwave that knocked him off his feet. Finally spotting an opening with her opponent down and weakened, she opened a rift to the Fade, her breath hitching as she summoned the mark's power. The portal hummed eerily, pulling the man closer no matter how hard he fought, his hands desperately searching for purchase on anything he could reach.

He let out a blood-curdling scream as the rift ripped and stretched his body as he was swallowed into the Fade. The sound of his cries echoed through the fort, and Elissa knew it would encourage any resistance from the remaining highwaymen to fail; their bravado would crumble and their surrender all but assured.

Cullen's gaze sharpened; he knew his deep admiration for her had long turned into something more profound, and he could no longer deny or feign ignorance toward it. He felt torn, worry swirling in his chest as he remembered his promise to Leliana, but in his meagre defence- everything about Elissa was intoxicating, crafted lovingly by the Maker to be his personal temptation. Cullen stood frozen, absorbing the scene- his vow to remain passive weighing heavily on him, but the Inquisitor's triumph left him breathless and without a shadow of a doubt.

He had feelings for the Inquisitor. For the Hero of Ferelden. For Elissa.

As she turned to her companions and flashed them a tired smile, he knew this was only the beginning. He understood that he would only fall deeper into the rabbit hole with no way out. Yet, he couldn't help but feel that perhaps their destinies were always meant to be intertwined, that she was always meant to save the broken Templar from the tower, and he, in turn, was meant to be at her side as she saved Thedas once more. That he was always destined to be the hapless man drawn to her, his moth to her flame, even if her light would mean his demise.