Well this is an awful start; I can't think of a title

“Shut the door, if you would.” Seteth moved a few papers around and gestured for Byleth to sit across from him at his desk. He waited for the pair to get settled before speaking. “I’ve called you in here today because your behaviour as of late has left me… concerned, to say the least. Rather than acting on my own assumptions, I thought it best to confirm things with you.” 

“Ask away.” “Truthfully, I am troubled by your increasing involvement with Flayn. Is it true that the pair of you went fishing together last week?” A nod. It seemed Byleth wasn’t planning on denying anything like some others had. That made the conversation a whole lot easier. “Since then, you have been asking me for stories of my sister’s youth whenever you get chance. You eat all your meals with the two of us, and recently you’ve even started turning down students and faculty who invite you to tea unless it’s their birthday - with the exception of Flayn and I. Considering the fact that you and I could not be considered close, all of this can lead me to only one conclusion.”

“Speak plainly, Seteth.” 

“Very well, I will be blunt. It is not unusual for Flayn to have female admirers, though they are fewer in number than their male counterparts, but I never in my wildest dreams expected you to be one of them. I don’t think I have to tell you that your pursuit of Flayn is completely unacceptable and must be ceased immediately - and that is without considering how unprofessional, no irresponsible it is for a Professor to attempt to engage such relationship one of her students-”  “Stop. You’ve misunderstood my intentions completely.”

 Her interjection cut the momentum of Seteth’s rant dead. He deflated in his chair - when had he started leaning forward like that? - and gaped at Byleth. “I don’t understand.” Byleth looked away from him then, brows furrowed as she tried to choose the right words. “Actually, you’ve read my intentions accurately. What you’ve misunderstood is the intended target.”  “You aren’t attempting to court Flayn?” “I am not.” “Then who…?” Byleth gave Seteth her most deadpan stare and finally the gears in his head started to click. Oh. Oh.

 His assumption was backwards - and what an ass it had made of him. He suspected that Byleth was engaging with him as a way to get closer to Flayn, when in reality… A blush bloomed bright crimson in his cheeks under Byleth’s steady gaze. “I… I suppose I am flattered. Flayn knows, doesn’t she? That’s why she spends so much time with you.” “I’ve not exactly been subtle about the whole situation.” Her blank façade cracked at the words as Byleth’s face brightened to match his own, and an awkward silence descended on the pair. Byleth broke it first. “If that’s everything, I have to get going. I’ll see you later for dinner.”  “Oh! Dinner, yes. I’ll see you then.” Seteth scrambled out of his chair to open office door and Byleth sent a rare, shy smile as she left.

At first Solas was inwardly pleased at the closeness displayed in Harea's manner. He was sure that it was some sort of sign, a discreet declaration of affection. This pattern continued even after they'd reached Haven. The Fade was the realm of the mind, and Solas had traversed it enough to understand how to shield it from reflecting his innermost thoughts. The Haven they were in was Harea's Haven; a projection of all she cherished about the place. It was telling, then, that in this most intimate version of Haven, Harea stopped before the gates to speak to the Inquisition's commander.

"Am I boring you?" Solas asked flatly when she turned away from him mid sentence.

"Of course not! Hold a moment, I need to speak to Cullen," Harea reassured, leaving Solas a little bit displaced.

Cullen. Not "Commander" or "General". Not even "Rutherford".

The encounter itself was short and uneventful, and yet it snaked into the back of Solas's head and refused to be ignored. It wasn't strange that the Commander was in Harea's Haven - he was a big part of the Inquisition after all; it would've been stranger if he wasn't there at all. The Cullen she had spoken to was obviously not real, it was just a construction of Harea's beliefs about him. What was strange though, was Harea's reactions to him. Harea was drawn to him more than any other of her constructs, betrayed in her use of "need". Perhaps she had, before sleeping, recalled an urgent piece of information to tell him? That would explain her noticing a construct despite the presence of Solas; she was certainly conscientious enough for that to be the case. Stop it, Solas chided himself, it was a tiny exchange hardly worth such an analysis. Harea hadn't even noticed she'd done it, even when she'd realised the pair weren't in the real Haven but the Fade.

An amused chuckle escaped the 'Taker. Of course, the bastard was enjoying every one of Kane's tortured outbursts. "Say that I do. Say I pay the cost and perform the unholy covenant; I create the pact. She would belong wholeheartedly to me." 'Taker leaned forward in his seat. "Could you abide by that, baby brother? Do you love her so much you'd give her to me?"

Kane faltered at this. Sure, the brothers' interests aligned at that point; but he was only too aware of the fragility of their alliance. If his brother brought her back she'd be bound to him as her sire. Would Kane be able to accept her leaving him? On the Undertaker's orders? Would he be able to bear such a thing coming to pass? He cradled her in his arms, brushing strands of raven hair away from her face. She was so beautiful, so serene. Anyone else would think she was sleeping, but Kane could feel the absence; there was no warmth of life in her body. Pearl sized tears fell through the mask, hot on her cold lifeless skin.

"What will it be? Shall I ressurect her?" Undertaker observed the interaction with interest. "...No." "Then?" "Th-then..." Kane spoke shakily, wrenching his blurred eyes away from her. "Make me forget, all of it. Everything."

'Taker's eyes gleamed with wicked satisfaction. "As you wish, brother."

With a wave of his hand, the floor underneath Kane rose shifted into an altar and he was brought up towards the throne. Acolytes moved from the shadows to pry her body out of his grasp. "No!" He growled. He pulled her in close with one arm as the other swung out at them wildly, stopping the hooded monks dead in their tracks. "Calm yourself Kane." Undertaker placed a hand on Kane's head and sending through a pulse of power. He watched Kane go slack and with a quick gesture the monks removed the woman his brother was so desperately gripping in his lap.

"Now, to work," he spoke softly. Undertaker sifted through Kane's thoughts, snaking around all those that related to her. With one sharp tug he removed them and deposited the pieces in an ornate box held by an acolyte, unsurprised by the sheer volume he was removing. Kane's single minded determination was one of the traits Undertaker could admire in him, but it meant he had the tendency to be a bit… obsessive. Kane inhaled sharply, and as Undertaker removed the power rooting him in place he collapsed onto his front at Undertaker's feet.

 Shepard peered round from cover into a large chamber. The room was vast and circular, as large as the room that held SR2’s mass effect core, with the walls curving into a large thick column in the middle of the room. The ribbed effect of the large dividers that jutted out of the walls at regular intervals, made the whole room look like the inside of an orange, and wires snaked across the floor into these panels. The centre column was unlike anything Shepard had ever come across. It was hollow, cement mixed with steel to hold its rigid structure, with a beam of soft blue light glowing gently through its core. In front of the column was a control panel. “So… where is everyone?” A gravelly voice spoke, Shepard’s second companion. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” She walked up to the panel, using her omni-tool to try to gain access. “Tali, any idea what this thing is?” “Not a one,” Shepard detected hints of curiosity in her voice; audible despite the tinny quality given to it by the suit. “Hang on a sec there’s some interference-” Shepard’s fingers whizzed across the keyboard, filling gaps in the lines of code to crack the panel open. “Almost there-yes!” She watched the screen blink a few times in recognition of Shepard’s successful hack.

The beam of light in the column before them hummed into action, rings of energy pulsing from both ends of it to crash violently in the centre. The doors slammed shut at lightning speed as the crashing rings sent out lashes of energy towards the group.

“Spirits, Shepard! What the hell did you do?” “I don’t know! I only just got into the system!” Shepard was annoyed and hurt at the slightly accusatory tone in the voice. She brought her omni-tool to the system to try and undo whatever she’d triggered, but she was locked out. The door was wrenched open by an Atlas just long enough to allow Cerberus forces through, and then they were slammed shut once more. “This was a trap Shepard!” The Quarian’s hand shook as she clenched her pistol. “Shit! Get to cover!” Shepard managed to scramble over to one of the wedges jutting out of the wall as the Cerberus troops lumbered up to the panel.

 The troops set up a defensive perimeter around the control panel as the crashing rings of energy picked up in tempo. That thing is powering up for one large blast! Shepard realised in horror. “Take them out quickly! We need to shut that thing off!” She barked the order as she fired a round from her assault rifle, hitting an engineer before he managed to set up a turret. “Roger that.” The voice in her comm spoke before a second assault rifle fired rounds into a Cerberus agent that crumpled to the ground. The generator lashed out with more aggression almost as an angry response. The power thrummed around the room as Shepard punched her way past the remaining hostiles to grab a hold of the console once more. She clung to the station despite the heat of the energy crackling before her, desperately scanning her omni tool for any sign of a crack she could use to shut the generator down. “Shepard, look out!” The voice cried, talons connecting to her back to shove her out of the way. She crashed off the platform and whipped round to see the energy blast hit the person that pushed her out the way and suddenly the room filled with light-

He had noticed within hours of being in her presence as they prepared for the Mars mission that Shepard’s behaviour towards him was markedly different. She was still as unfathomably kind to him as she’d always been, despite his harsh attitude towards her. She had the same warm demeanour towards him as she’d always had, as if he had left her crew for a few days rather than a few years. Yet, there was no questioning that something had changed. She no longer reached out to touch him, whether it was to brush against his arm, a gentle squeeze of his fingers, or to feel his arm round her shoulders. She had told him once in confidence that she did it because on Earth she’d never had anyone precious to her and she wanted to know he was close, in a conversation that felt like it was lifetimes ago.

The mission itself ended in disaster for Kaidan as he was gravely injured, but the coming weeks of recovery provided him with a moment of clarity. Why in all the galaxies had he been acting like such a colossal prat? His thoughts floated back to Horizon, where it all went wrong. “I loved you!” He spat it out to her in the past tense, as if he could ever get past his feelings for her. Shepard had implored, she pleaded with him to just try to see it from her side, but in the heat of the moment he’d decided that she wasn’t trustworthy. Instead he flipped it round to insinuate that Shepard was the one that was blind. “They can decide if they believe your story,” the thinly veiled insult hit its mark and Kaidan had to grit his teeth to stop himself from grimacing at the hurt on Shepard’s face. It was clear she knew what Kaidan had meant to say was ‘I don’t believe a word you have said.’ Still she tried again for him, one more time: “I could use someone like you on my crew Kaidan, it’d be just like old times,” She spoke tentatively, and he had understood she was asking for more than just another crew member. “No it won’t; I’ll never work for Cerberus.” He replied forcefully. “Goodbye Shepard.” He hadn’t meant for it to be the end, despite the fact he was the one that said goodbye. It was all a bit of a mess after that, Kaidan mused, sliding the lump of ice from his glass into his mouth. He thought about the shaky correspondence he sent to Shepard that was intended to rectify his mistake, to show he hadn’t meant to end it. It was too late, though, and a few months later a letter was delivered to his door written in her chunky, slightly slanted handwriting. Then another. Then another. By the fourth he’d all but worked out what it was that could possibly be so important it warranted the effort of handwritten letters. After all, he knew Shepard and she would want to soften the blow as much as possible and if it couldn’t be in person then the most personal method available to her would have to do even if she struggled with it – being able to read and write weren’t really a priority for her when she was growing up on Earth’s back streets. He didn’t read them for he was sure that the whoever had caught Shepard’s eye would be talked about in them and he couldn’t bear to look. So, he buried himself in his work in a pathetic attempt to hide from any mention of her name and, to be fair, it was paying off; he even got promoted to Major. Until the whole galaxy went to shit with the arrival of the frickin Reapers. So they were together again and yet not for the mission to Mars and then, stuck in a hospital bed, Kaidan couldn’t avoid the information he was so desperately hiding from. The nurses were gossiping about Shepard’s exploits on one of Palaven’s moons – shooting Husks and Marauders, saving the Primarch, basically kicking ass like always… and afterwards, sharing a passionate moment with Garrus Vakarian. This was the truth, Kaidan thought as he waved over the waiter to order another drink, that he he should’ve known. Garrus and Shepard were always close, and had Garrus not been a turian maybe Kaidan would’ve had to tell him to back off. As it was, “Shepard and Vakarian are the one true pairing of the Normandy” was the most popular joke during those precious moments of peace and laughter while trying to stop Saren, despite both their protests to the contrary. Still, the news stunned Kaidan; betrayed, not only being cheated on by his love but she had done so with his friend. Of course, that wasn’t exactly true – knowing Garrus he wouldn’t allow a relationship with someone if they were romantically entangled elsewhere – but it was an easier truth than that of the letters Kaidan refused to read. The news helped Kaidan finally plucked up the courage to ask Shepard about fixing their relationship, so he sent her an email to ask her to visit. Naturally she came as soon as she read it, but as she walked in wearing a look of concern while trying her hardest not to look haggard, her back straight and hands held behind her back in military style, Kaidan lost the nerve. Yes, this woman was the real Shepard, but times had changed and so had she. He looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years and he could see the worry and the stress and the fraying nerves written all over it. He was not going to be the one to make an already gruelling situation worse. Not this time. Kaidan was going to trust Shepard, he was going to believe her, and he proved it in the situation with Udina on the Citadel. He was not going to have another Horizon. He supported Shepard like he should have done the first time around, and stood down when she asked him to. Perhaps there is still a chance, a little voice in his head had mused, but he crushed it, reminding himself that Garrus was stood by her side when Shepard confronted him, possibly ready to shoot Kaidan down to protect her. Once he’d joined the crew again he could see how happy Garrus made her, much as it pained him to admit it. When Kaidan was with Shepard she seemed to glow, but with Vakarian she positively sparkled. Kaidan watched dumbfounded as Shepard was pushed from one precarious situation to the next, like Rannoch and Thessia, and when it seemed like she was about to break Garrus would wrap an arm around her, pressing his head against Shepard’s and the tension would melt out of her. She’d peck him and gently whisper secret loving words to him and when she pulled away the deep-set lines of worry in her face would have eased. It was for that reason that Kaidan ignored the burning ache in his chest at the sight of them. He did have one very awkward conversation about the situation on Garrus’s insistence which resulted in him punching the Turian squarely in the mandibles, but after that he held on to no real resentment toward him. Losing Shepard was altogether of Kaidan’s own doing. Kaidan was snapped out of his thoughts by the sight of Shepard walking towards him. She was dressed in civvies, an N7 jumper and some sporty leggings, and had her blazing red hair tied into a messy ponytail. He shook his head as if doing so would dislodge the memories he was just reliving, regretting it instantly as his implant created dull spikes of pain in response. He grabbed a menu as she dumped herself into the nearest chair. “Hey, Kaidan. Went for a quick run first, you know, fire up the appetite,” She flashed him a cheeky grin and scooted her chair round to peek over his menu. “I’m surprised this place can still get supplies for a menu like this,” he murmured, pretending not to notice the proximity. “Maybe it’s better not to ask,” Shepard laughed heartily, a sound that was becoming scarce as the battles raged. Kaidan considered telling her that he had never stopped loving her, that he was still waiting for her, that Horizon was a horrible mistake… but what would be the point? All that would happen was that Shepard would stop enjoying herself, stop being able to laugh with him.

His question was answered through creased note pages and obscure reports. Lira had recovered enough to take the mantle of Inquisitor, and for his part he had sworn to her that he would never allow the events of Haven to re-occur. He’d come to his reports with renewed vigour only to notice references to ‘the elven Huntress’ peppered among them. He gathered that the Dalish elf had been tracking her sister as there had been no word from her since the Conclave - presumably the lively mage he had noticed aiding Solas from time to time, since there were no other Dalish around the camp to his knowledge. The Hunter had rescued Lira only as a lead on her sister’s whereabouts and was staying with the Inquisition because the other girl had refused to leave.