Fae made her way gradually across the battlements, lost in thought, until two soldiers passed her by. One stopped. "Miss?"

The other soldier grabbed their comrade by the elbow, trying futilely to discreetly pull them away.

Fae was confused. "Yeah?"

"The commander was asking after that mage boy, Cole. He said to pass on the message that he remembers him, and he hopes that the amulet helps him."

"Oh. Huh," Fae looked properly at the soldier. Pale orange hair, freckles. Starkhaven accent, heavily scuffed armour, training sword at his hip. He's a long way from home. "And you remember Cole, too."

"Forgive him, my lady," said the other soldier, also from Starkhaven, it sounded like. "He's new. Come on," he said, dragging his friend away.

Fae watched them leave, still puzzled by the interaction.

"But the commander wanted to know, and she's got a staff, so she must be a mage, too, right?"

"That was the Lady Seer, the Inquisitor's Right Hand, you idiot. She hates templars, the commander included."

Oh. Well, he's not wrong about that, but I guess I haven't really noticed that Cullen is that close to Cole. Something must be wrong, for Cole to single him out like this. Hm.

Against her better judgement, Fae found herself outside Cullen's office for the first time. There was a definite pull of something to see, but she felt that in a lot of rooms in Skyhold; most people had possessions that meant something to them. Still… Should she knock? She couldn't hear anything. Maybe he wasn't in. She opened the door, and suddenly something was flying towards her head as Cullen let out an angry shout. Fae ducked just in time for it to hit the doorframe instead, splintering and sending shards of wood and glass everywhere.

Cullen's fury dissipated instantly, replaced with shock. "Maker's breath! I didn't see you open the door, I— Forgive me."

"No, no, I should have knocked first, sorry," Fae shrugged off her initial alarm. "It's your office, smash boxes as you like."

"If I'd have known—" Cullen groaned, leaning on the edge of his desk for balance as some unidentifiable pain wracked him.

"Are you sick?" Fae asked bluntly. "Is that why Cole has been helping you?"

"Not exactly," Cullen grunted. "Apologies, I never meant for that to interfere."

Fae followed his gaze to the shattered box on the ground, where a familiar bright blue liquid was pooling on the floor. "Never meant for what to interfere? Lyrium? What difference does that make? All templars take it."

"I'd ask how you know that, but, forgive me, you have something of a reputation for knowing things it doesn't make sense for you to know."

"It's not my visions, if that's what you're implying. Lyrium smuggling, in Kirkwall. Even ex-templars need it."

Cullen raised an eyebrow. "Smuggling?"

"I was a kid," Fae crossed her arms defensively. "I did what I was told to survive. So, are you going to tell me what's going on? Do you not have enough? I thought Lady Josephine had something going with the Carta."

"No, that's not it. The opposite, in fact." Cullen stood back up with jerky, pained movements. "I stopped taking it. Months ago, when I joined the Inquisition- before its founding, technically."

Fae's eyes widened. "Are you mad? That could drive you mad. Or kill you. Probably both. Why would you do that?"

Cullen half-stumbled over to the window behind his desk. "You told me what happened to you in Kinloch Hold. I'm sorry for it. Truly. When the rebels took over, and abominations began to run riot, I was captured. I watched the templars—my friends, be slaughtered, and I…I was tortured. They tried to break my mind, and, to some extent, they succeeded. I'd trained with the other templar recruits, grown up with them. I'd only taken my vows a year prior. How can anyone be the same person after that?"

He waited for Fae to fling back accusations at him, but she didn't. She simply stood there with her arms still crossed, staring impassively, so he continued.

"I still wanted to serve, but I'd become paranoid beyond reason. I still argued for annulment, and my behaviour unnerved my superiors and the surviving mages both, so I was sent to Kirkwall."

"…I had a friend, too. She survived. But not long ago, she was made Tranquil. Now she's gone," Fae said lowly, looking at the ground. "I mean, there's a chance…" She stopped short of finishing that thought. "Look, you and yours got your revenge. On her, on me, on every Maker-forsaken mage this side of Thedas. Was that not enough?"

Cullen expected heat behind the words, but the girl in front of him just looked tired, and sad. "I didn't want revenge," he insisted. "I trusted my knight-commander, and her fear of mages ended in madness."

"Don't insult me by pretending that Meredith acted alone," Fae shook her head, still addressing the floor. "You fuelled each other's paranoia for years. When she ordered the annulment, I was there. You didn't protest, even then. Not until she tried to target the people's hero."

"Innocent people were already dying in the streets by the time I made the right choice," Cullen admitted. "I failed the Order, but the Order itself had already failed. I refused to be bound to it any longer. Surely you can see why I want nothing to do with that life?"

"Of course I can," Fae sighed. "But wanting won't bring all those people who should still be alive back, and neither will dying of lyrium withdrawals."

"I have an agreement with Seeker Pentaghast. She's keeping an eye on me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved of my duty. I've also asked her to name a replacement for me, but so far, she's refused."

"Does the Inquisitor know about this?"

"She does. Both of them insist that I'm doing fine, but…" Cullen began to pace back and forth restlessly from one side of the room to the other. "I thought—naïvely, perhaps, that this would be better—that I would regain some control over my life. But how many lives depend on our success this time? How many will be lost if I fail them again?" He heard the doubt in his own voice, as it rose to a shout. "I swore myself to this cause, and I will not give less to the Inquisition than I did the Chantry. I should be taking it!" Cullen shoved his fist into the bookshelf, and immediately regretted it, seeing Fae flinch in his periphery as several books fell to the floor. "I should be taking it," he repeated softly.

Fae wordlessly picked up the books and put them back on the shelf. "Stay here," she instructed, and left. Cullen waited, impatiently, pacing around his office like a caged bronto. Was she fetching the Inquisitor? Or Seeker Pentaghast, to insist that he be removed from command?

The Seer returned a few minutes later, and placed a small vial of white liquid on his desk. "This is amrita vein extract," she said haltingly. "Stitches makes it, to help me sleep properly. It's strong, knocks me out for a whole day and a night, so I don't usually take it unless I'm desperate. Your body won't heal properly without sleep. Take it. You look exhausted." She made to leave.

Cullen called out just in time. "…Why?"

Fae said nothing for a moment, considering. "Because… I don't want to become someone that only has anger left. I refuse to become you," she answered, her voice regaining that edge she usually had on the rare occasion that they spoke.

"… Thank you for this, Faellathi."

She shrugged and left, leaving his door open on her way out. Cullen leaned back in his chair and sighed.