#lysette

There doesn't need to be a question of story scope or game volume. You could even still choose your initial alliance the same way and bring the second party in through war table options later on. Even if my Inquisitor chose the mages, we still could've had an "in" or start with the Templars through Ser Barris's obvious discomfort with the direction the Lord Seeker (which, the fact that wasn't even Lucius alone is another point I could dive into) and Chantry were taking in Val Royeaux.

Barris is perfectly set up from the moment we meet him as a potential leader with a more perceptive eye and level head than those around him. He publicly questions his superior and asks the all-important question of, "What-if?" He's already seeing that something's not right or isn't adding up, and if he's bold enough to call that into question, would it be so far-fetched for him to send a letter to Cullen to start talks with the Inquisition?

Minimal changes could be added to existing war table quests. My mage Inquisitor might be unusual in that she both recruited the mages freely and actively utilizes Templars under Cullen's command. I share this because there are several options to do so through which you could easily slip Ser Barris's name in as the correspondence and be growing that alliance/planting those reform seeds in the background without any real overhaul of the story.

Just like we have Rylen as our armed forces contact in the Western Approach, we could have Ser Barris serving a similar role when it comes to Templar activity. Maybe he's even able to get valuable intel to Leliana that helps Cassandra's quest.

No cutscene would be necessary, but a shorter version of the Champions of the Just scene where the Inquisition takes on the Templars as allies could be used where the Inquisitor meets Barris personally and the band of Templars he leads that's broken off from the Red Templars.

We already know the Red Templars are trouble if we've sided with the mages. We don't need to add anything for this to make sense if we've already had those little seeds through Val Royeaux and war table quests planted.

We've all spent enough hours in this game to hear how many are sick of the fighting, and we know too that people are starting to have ideas on how to start improving relations between these two groups.

Let's iron out the wrinkles and give Cullen's idea a test run before any new Divine is even chosen. It's not perfect and needs more development, but there's no more perfect group to try it on than mages and Templars who've already agreed to ally through the Inquisition.

(Note: I've noticed some give Cullen flack on his plan of allowing mages to work outside the Circles with Templar support, but in my opinion, the fact that he is trying to think of solutions to make things better for everyone matters a great deal and shows tremendous growth. It's not a perfect plan, but it's a good start with what control or sway they have in the matter. We have to remember that it's not just mages and Templars who are impacted by all of this, and the Average Joes of Thedas have more than enough reason to fear forces they're practically powerless against).

Too many men in armor with the same ideas can be dangerous.

So can too many in robes with staves. Mages are no less susceptible to blind arrogance and corruption. They are, after all, people too.

Radicalism, self-righteousness, and a drive for power are dangerous no matter who's wielding it.

Lean on seasoned mages who are sick of the fighting like Ellendra (she doesn't want any part of the war, so give her an option to partake in the peace/healing efforts) and a trusted Templar like Barris or Lysette to work together to lead small initiatives that work along the lines of normalcy. Hire the cute elf kid from Redcliffe to help farmers start regrowing their crops/building a prosperous harvest at the Crossroads or Redcliffe Farms.

Everyone needs food and supplies to survive. Get them working together on the fundamentally human (for lack of a better term) level to equally contribute to a shared need and practice. Get them working with the Average Joes (non-mages, non-Templars) in a way like this that benefits them and shows them ways in which magic can be used for growth and healing instead of destruction. Show them the Templars who want to serve the Maker and protect the people of Thedas.

Show the Joes both groups working in equal unison to take out Red Templars or demons that threaten them. All of this can still be under the unified banner of the Inquisition, and let word of those experiences travel naturally (and elevate word of the allied heroics through Josephine and Leliana).

Let people on all sides see these groups working together as equal partners and start figuring out the best ways to govern themselves while they already have a unified front to work from. There will still be issues and still be "scuffles" to use Fiona's term, but having a strong group of allies can help better, more developed, and stable tactics emerge.

Let this trickle into Divine Victoria's (mine's been Leliana both playthroughs, but this would help Cassandra a lot, too) reformation plan and strengthen her foundation for it. Vivienne would be a bit give or take. Perhaps even appoint a trusted Revered Mother as advisor to the Templars (Giselle comes to mind, for her insightful criticisms of the Chantry, dedication to the Chant of Light,and willingness to correct herself).

You take out the lofty idealism of a shared goal of what we'll for convenience's sake call "good" mages and "good" Templars by putting it into practice using small steps. It becomes less "radical" then when Divine Victoria drives change when more people have been in direct contact with the benefits of that change.

It's very true that such an alliance may never last: too many egos and too many self-serving hands in the Game always do seek to ruin the good others have built.

“Absolutely not,” the former Knight-Captain complained as he hunched himself even further over his desk, huddling to brace himself against the rush of cold wind that had come through the wide-open door which framed his Inquisitor, Siân Trevelyan.

Sian crossed her arms and leant on the doorframe, pouting. “Come on, Cullen. I’ve got to start packing for our expedition in the Hissing Wastes starting tomorrow so I’ve got nothing to do today, and I’ve finished all the armour upgrades with Dagna and Harritt that I wanted to. Can’t we spend some time outside while there’s still light?”

Cullen caught a stray sheet of parchment about to be liberated from his desk by the incoming gusts, saying, “No. And close the door already, please.”

“This door doesn’t close until you’re outside the this room, Cullen,” Siân stated.

Packing the papers together and weighing them down with a bare candlestick-holder, Cullen gestured beyond the doorway, declaring, “In case you somehow missed it on the way here, it is snowing, Lady Trevelyan.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that fact, and using my surname like a stern mother isn’t going to send me packing to my room, Ser Rutherford,” Siân said, picking up a loose gewgaw from a barrel within reach. “Either come up and take this from me, or…”

“Or what?”, Cullen asked, glaring.

“Or I can easily hit this candlestick from over here with it, and scatter all of your papers, meaning that if you don’t take a break now you’ll be working on them even later into the night.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said.

Sian tossed it to herself. “I think you know me better than that, Cullen.”

He sprang to his feet, crossing the room in three long strides, and reached her just time to watch it leave her hand and clatter into a corner of the room, a few yards from his table. As he wheeled around to assess the damage, Siân hooked her foot around his ankle and spun him out of the room entirely, closing her door behind her as she placed herself between him and his office.

“You—”, he spluttered.

Sian took a bow. “Figured that’s what it would take to get you out of that chair. Now will you spend some time outside here with me?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”, Cullen asked, rubbing his upper arms to warm them up a little.

“No,” she said. “Come on, let’s go down to the courtyard.”

A fresh snowfall had descended on Skyhold, with stray snowflakes dancing in the air, and the afternoon sun shining gently off each of the snowbanks which blanketed the walls and floors of the ancient fortress. Siân and Cullen gingerly descended the snow-covered stairs down to the courtyard before the main keep, where the snow had driven everyone except a few guards and some itinerant merchants indoors.

“See?”, Siân said, turning round to face Cullen, “Now we can get some time together, here.”

“Right in view of everybody in Skyhold,” Cullen remarked.

“What’re they going to know, that we’re…well, we’re what we are?”, Siân asked. “I think Scout Jeremias has probably told half of Thedas already.”

“I explicitly told him not to after he caught us on the battlements,” Cullen sulked.

Sian didn’t even dignify that with a response, just returning him a withering look.

“You realise not everybody has the same natural propensity towards rebelling against me as you do,” Cullen protested.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess not. Still, I’d hardly be surprised if he hadn’t let someone know already.”

“I guess not,” Cullen mused, struggling to remember the name of that elf whom he’d seen Jim with in the Chantry courtyard. Was she the wildlife researcher they’d had at Haven? Well, detai—

He’d been smacked with a snowball.

Dusting the snow off himself, he scooped up enough from the ground to make one and cast it in Sian’s direction, but she dodged it adeptly.

“Sorry about that,” she said, laughing, “but you were so lost in thought I was going to fetch Solas to snap you out of the Fade.”

“Tell me,” Cullen said, “did you enjoy doing all this when you were younger as well?”

“Well, it’s a bit warmer up in Ostwick, but whenever we came down to Orlais in the winter my brother and I would play in the snow if we could. Our parents objected at first, but they soon realised that letting twins run around in the snow was a lot better than dealing with two cranky children cooped up indoors.”

“That…does explain a lot. As well as your skill in bowling over candlesticks.”

“Oh, that’s from playing palm tennis in the house too,” Siân said. “We were made to stop after we put a dent in Judicael Valmont I’s ear. In my defence, I never knew it was plaster.”

Pinching at the furrow between his eyebrows, “Maker help me, you must have been one…challenging…child, along with your brother. What else did you do when you were frolicking in the frost, if I dare ask?”

“Well, there’s the simple pleasures in life,” she said, sticking her tongue out.

“What are you—”

She bobbed her head towards a languidly descending snowflake, catching it with the pad of her tongue, licking her lips with a childish glee.

“You really are an overgrown child, you know that?”, Cullen said.

“And yet still you can’t help but be drawn to me,” Siân laughed. “Come on, your turn.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I think we’ve established that there’s really no absolutes when it comes to you, Cullen,” Siân said.

“Will you let me go back to my office if I just catch one?”, he asked, beleaguered.

“Sure”, Siân said, shrugging her shoulders.

Watching one dangle from the sky, Cullen rolled his eyes as he extended his tongue to catch it as Siân waited expectantly.

No sooner had the sudden bite of cold faded into momentary numbness did he feel Sian’s mouth around his tongue, hers sliding up and down it as her lips crashed into his. After some momentary surprise, he returned it, withdrawing his tongue but ravishing her lips until they both had to break away for breath.

Catching hers, Siân said, “So, about going back to your office…”

Glancing at the stairs up, he answered her, “Immediately.”

“Immediately?”, she asked, catching the crook of his elbow with hers.

Leaning in, he growled in that exact way she loved so much, repeating himself.

“Immediately.”

Then they were gone, dashing up the stairs like a pair of lovestruck teenagers whilst a couple of figures in the armoury witnessing the scene judged them. Behind them, Lysette came up holding a tray with some mugs of hot malt with sugar puffs floating on them.

“What’d I miss?”, asked the Templar.

Jim turned to her, faux-scandalised. “Only the Inquisitor and the Knight-Captain mashing faces. Again.”

“What!”, Lysette cried. “I step out for five minutes to get drinks and I miss everything?!”

Minaeve reached out for the hot malt, gingerly picking at the marshmallow, saying “Oh, right, thank you! And yes, she’d dragged him all the way down there and pounced on him.”

“She made her move first?!”, Lysette asked, continuing, “That’s not how you said you caught them last time, Jim.”

Jeremias took his drink and a sip of it before saying, “I’m as surprised as you are! Looks like she decided to be the bold one this time. Well, we won’t be seeing them again anytime soon, the way they ran off.”

“Good for her,” Minaeve said. “I think I’d have thrown up if they’d decided to keep acting so cute right in the middle of the snow.”

“I hear that,” Jim said. “Once was bad enough, twice is just misfortune. Thanks for the tip though, Lysette, this really is the warmest spot in Skyhold.”

“Naturellement,” Lysette said. “Sensible people like us know to find a cosy spot in weather such as this instead of freezing outside for no reason.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Minaeve said, raising her mug for a toast.

Jeremias raised his too, saying, “Me too.”

“To cosy spots in the armoury and accidental voyeurism, then,” Lysette finished, drinking up.

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