The Arcane Archive

Interesting tidbit:

…

I spent my time awake thinking everything over. What Deshanna had done frightened me, but the why frightened me even more. However, I knew that the Maker would have given me the gifts of a dreamer for a reason. I needed to learn how to wield them properly. I just needed to come up with a plan as to how I would learn. Andraste, guide me. 

"Talitha?" Ellana's voice called, barely more than a whisper.

I blinked and looked around, but I didn't see her. I stood from the bed. "Where are you?" I whispered back.

"The window," she called. I made my way over to where I saw her peek an eye in at me. "I've called a meeting with the advisors so they can meet our family. They'll need placement within the Inquisition, and they should state their reasons for joining to them."

"All right. Do I need to change?" I asked.

"No," she shook her head. "I want you there. You go on ahead to the Chantry; I'll get our family and hide amongst them for cover."

I nodded and waited for her to slip into the shadows before I exited the cabin. I saw Cullen walking through Haven's gates, stifling a yawn, before taking a pull from a metal cup that had steam billowing off the top. "Tired, Commander?" I called.

He jumped a little. When his eyes found mine, though, a soft smile curved his lips. "Just a little, Herald. How did you sleep?"

"I didn't," I shrugged. "Too much on my mind." We continued walking towards the Chantry.

He frowned a little. "I am sorry."

I looked to his cup. "More tea?"

He glanced to his drink before he gave a small smile. "No, thank the Maker. Leliana brought back coffee from Val Royeaux. She knows Josephine is fond of it. The Lady Ambassador was kind enough to offer some to me."

"That was kind of her," I smiled at the joy he seemed to take from such a simple thing. "I get the feeling that Josephine is kind."

"She is," Cullen nodded. "How she can be and yet be such a proficient diplomat and player of the Game is beyond me. One would think they would have eaten her alive."

"Kindness does not equate a lack of cunning," I stated as we entered the war room. I stood on one side of the table as he took a spot in the middle on the other.

"True," he chuckled as he set his things down. He'd had his cup and a few reports tucked under his arm. He blinked and looked around. "It seems we are the first to arrive." He glanced at the closed door before his eyes flicked to me. A smirk curving his lips that made my heart flip as he came around the table. He placed his hands on either side of me as he leaned towards my mouth. "How are you, my darling?" His voice was husky and low, causing my spine to tingle.

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. He not moving, keeping his hands where they gripped the table on either side of me. I broke away too soon for my liking, but I didn't want anyone walking in on us. "I am better," I smiled. "Thank you...for last night."

"Of course," he kissed the corner of my mouth, his stubble tickling my cheek. He reached across the table, being careful not to disturb any of the markers as he grabbed his cup, pouring some into a second cup before offering it to me. "Would you like some?"

I smiled at him. "Yes, I would." He leaned against the table as we both drank. With a twitch of my lips I asked, "So, Commander, are you ready to meet my father?"

He choked on his coffee. "Maker's breath," he coughed. I laughed at the nervous look on his face. 

…

"Ma, Da," Ellana began, "These are the Inquisition's advisors." She gestured a hand to each as she introduced them. "Lady Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker and Right Hand of the Divine. Sister Leliana, Left Hand of the Divine and the Inquisition's Spymaster. Commander Cullen Rutherford, Leader of the Inquisition's Forces and Military Advisor. Lady Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador and Chief Diplomat."

Ellana had snuck in amongst the group, disguised well by so many that looked like her. She'd even put on clothing of the clans, pulling a hood up to hide her hair. The others had worn their hoods, lowering them upon entering the room. As Ellana introduced the advisors, Ma and Da inclined their heads. Their faces were hard to read. Not only theirs, but Mahanon's and nearly all of our siblings’. A few wore their thoughts plainly: Theran and Arlen seemed curious, but Sanar and Laren were openly hostile as they looked at the advisors. Camlen hid behind Ma. 

Ellana turned to our family. "Advisors, this is Feldor, my father; Elolora, my mother; Mahanon, my cousin; Theran, Sanar, Arlen and Camlen, my brothers; and Laren and Fioren, my sisters." 

"Andaran atish’an," Josephine inclined her head as she looked over Ellana and I's family. They all looked to her, their gazes ranging from hard to surprised.

Ma spoke first, "Andaran atish'an, Ambassador." She gave Josephine a small smile. "We thank you for allowing us to camp within your borders and for the care you have taken towards our daughters."

"It is no trouble at all," Josephine assured. "We are eager to welcome the family of Mistress Lavellan."

I looked at the advisors. Cassandra was gauging Mahanon and Laren, spotting the greatest threats of the group; Leliana eyed Theran and Sanar mainly, but seemed to be weighing them all in her mind. Cullen's eyes hardly left my father or mother, his gaze catching on little Fioren slung across Ma's chest whenever he looked at the others. He kept his face professional and focused, no doubt putting duty over curiosity, but I had to fight a smile every time I noticed him stand a little straighter whenever Da looked his way. Josephine's face was the only one that was unreadable to me as I watched her studying them. Ellana seemed tense as she looked between our family and the advisors, her eyes occasionally meeting mine.

"Why do you wish to join us?" Josephine asked, quirking a dark brow, her voice kind. "Would you not prefer to stay with your clan? Mistress Lavellan has already informed us that the clan intends to help with the Breach, if needed, before returning to the Free Marches."

"We wish to stay with our daughters," Da spoke, his voice deep and smooth. "The clan wishes to return to its homeland. The Inquisition seems to be doing its best to set the world right and is accepting of any who wish to see that goal met. We would join you in seeing it done."

"You were the clan's blacksmith, yes?" Cullen asked Da, my heart warming at the fact that he had remembered. "Would you be able to assist in outfitting our troops?"

Da's gaze landed on Cullen, and I couldn't help the slight twist in my gut. What would Da think of him? I knew, ultimately, Da had no say in who I was with; but a part of me was curious to know what he would think of the man that held my heart. I watched as Da studied Cullen, his eyes catching as he looked him over. I followed where his eyes landed and felt my face blanch. His vambraces. I'd never noticed before, but Cullen's vambraces were etched with the Templar Order's symbol. Oh, Maker. I watched as Da's dark eyes focused on the vambraces for a moment longer before they travelled up to Cullen's face. There was no flicker of emotion, no change in him as he met Cullen's eyes. "Aye, Commander. I would. Arlen could assist me, as he's been apprenticing under me for some time now."

"Ellana tells me the Inquisition has mounts and livestock that need tending. I was the clan's keeper of the halla," Ma spoke, her jade eyes bright and her voice soothing. "I could help tend to your animals."

"I am sure Master Dennet would welcome competent help," Cullen nodded to which Ma smiled. Cullen shifted on his feet.

"Are you in charge, shem?" Mahanon spoke, drawing all eyes to himself. "Or is my cousin the one who should be assigning us our places?" His eyes were hard and voice sharp as he addressed Cullen. His gaze kept flicking to Cullen's vambraces as well, anger growing each time it did.

"Mahanon," Ellana glared at him, her tone a warning. 

"Let him speak, sister," Laren hissed at Ellana, her dark eyes angry. "If these shems wish to welcome us, then they should know what they're getting."

Ellana faced Laren, staring her down before looking to Mahanon. "You both are dishonoring me."

"Ir abelas, cousin," Mahanon apologized. "I don't wish to bring you dishonor, but surely you understand our hesitation? The man's a templar." Mahanon jutted his chin at Cullen.

"No, frankly, I do not Mahanon," Ellana argued, crossing her arms over her chest. "You are here because you asked to join. You will not turn around and offend the people who are willing to take you in and give you paid work. The people who raised me—a Dalish mage—to be a figurehead amongst their organization, nay their religion. I may not have wanted to be part of the Inquisition at first, but now I am wholly devoted to its cause, differences in faiths aside. They seek to restore order and help the innocent caught up in this chaos when no one else is willing to.

“Mark or no Mark, I continue to stay of my own free will because it is the right thing to do. You will show the people who have brought this organization about proper respect. You may have issues with humans and templars, but if you are joining the Inquisition then you will set that aside. We are all part of the Inquisition, no matter who we are or where we came from before." I was shocked by Ellana's statement. I'd known to some degree her feelings, but she had not said it so plainly to me. Ellana waved a hand in the advisors' direction. "I have seen enough of their character and the character of many within this organization—of all backgrounds and beliefs—to know that they are worthy of my respect...and yours. Save your vile for the Inquisition's enemies."

Mahanon and Laren exchanged a glance. "Ma nuvenin, cousin," Mahanon gave a curt nod as he met Ellana's stare again.

Ellana looked to Laren, who could have also been our twin, but for her dark eyes and more angular features. "Ma nuvenin, sister."

"Do not insult them again," Ellana ordered before turning back to the advisors who had been exchanging glances during Ellana, Mahanon and Laren's argument.

Cullen cleared his throat. "And...the rest of you? What are your skills?"

"I was the leader of the clan's hunters," Mahanon stated, his voice cold, but not outright hostile as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm adept at hunting, scouting, tracking and I'm proficient in the use of a bow and daggers."

"I was a hunter under Mahanon," Theran stated, his voice rich. He looked the most like Da, dark hair and eyes. He was just a couple years younger than Ellana and I. "Proficient with a bow, but no good with daggers."

"As was I," Sanar spoke. He favored Ma with jade eyes and lighter hair; he was only a year younger than Theran. "I can scout and track about as well as Mahanon."

"I was second to our chief protector. I am trained to wield a sword and shield," Laren voiced, her eyes still fierce as she looked the advisors over. Laren was just over twenty. "I was known for my ferocity in skirmishes."

"As my father said, I am his apprentice. I work the forge," Arlen spoke. He had Da's eyes, but Ma's lighter hair and fairer skin. He was three years younger than Theran.

"Camlen and Fioren are obviously too young to have any skill sets," Ma spoke, her voice gentle. "Beyond eating and sleeping," she offered a chuckle, trying to ease the tension in the room. Camlen peeked a jade eye out, his ebony curls falling into his face as he peered up at everyone. He quickly hid behind Ma's legs again.

Cullen nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Thank you, we will discuss amongst ourselves the best places for you."

"I will return with them," Ellana announced as she ushered our family out the door. They all pulled their hoods up again before Ellana followed suit and hid amongst them once more. The door groaned closed and for a moment there was only silence. 

"Is...there anything I can do, Mistress Lavellan?" Josephine asked, her voice kind.

I met her dark eyes and gave her a weak smile. "That's as warm an introduction as I could expect. Ellana said her piece and her words were wise. The rest will take time." I contemplated for a moment. "They need to come to understand what Ellana said: we are all the Inquisition. It's up to them if they're willing to set aside their issues or not."

They all nodded in agreement as they took their spots around the map of Thedas. They'd been crammed on one side while we'd taken the other. I looked over the map; more markers littered its surface spreading from Ferelden over to Orlais and even up into the Free Marches. There were stacks of reports, the writ that had been the foundation of the Inquisition, quills, a pitcher of water with goblets and numerous other things added to the main table since the last time I had been inside the "War Room". I glanced at each advisor, who in turn were looking at me expectantly.

"What is left to plan before we go after aid?" I asked, my eyes falling on each of them.

"Everything should be in place," Leliana began, "It's just going over the final details."

"How are we going to handle the Herald?" Cullen quirked a brow. "I assume you have a plan?"

"The people of the Inquisition know that the Herald intends to go after aid," Leliana glanced at the map. "As to who or when, we've kept any concrete information from being discovered. The people are split as to who they would prefer to see aid us, but I would say it leans heavily in the Templars' favor. While the faithful are infuriated that the Templars abandoned their duties, they would still rather have templars among us than the rebel mages." Leliana made a face that said she disagreed with this mentality. "Alexius and the nobles of Orlais expect the Herald to meet them, to be a voice in negotiations. The hardest part will be getting you both to your destinations with no one the wiser as to our ruse. That said, I doubt anyone will truly care once the Breach has been sealed permanently."

"We hope permanently, anyway," Cullen sighed.

"It will work, Cullen," Cassandra assured. "I know it."

A thought occurred to me. "Wh-what if this kills E-me? It almost did the last time."

They all stopped short and met my eyes. Cullen spoke first. "With aid, I predict that there will be less of a burden placed upon you. The Templars will essentially suppress the magic of the Breach while the mages lend their mana to you. It will not be a repeat of our previous attempt, but alas we cannot fully predict the outcome. As to the risks, you've previously stated that you understand and have accepted them." Meaning Ellana.  

"Of course," I met his eyes.

"We are getting ahead of ourselves," Leliana warned. "Do we have all we need to address the Lord Seeker, Josie?"

"We do," the woman nodded as she looked over her board. "Lord Abernache assures that he and the other nobles will arrive in South Reach a day or two before the set date. They will gather there, rest and then press on to Therinfal where the Herald will meet them. Together, the Herald, her escorts and the nobles will demand the Lord Seeker fulfill his duty lest he risk the ire of Orlais."

"South Reach?" Cullen questioned, his hands going to his sword pommel as he turned to look at Josephine. "When was that decided?"

"During my correspondence with Lord Abernache," Josephine informed him. "It is the city closest to Therinfal and large enough that the nobles may find accommodations that suit their needs. You informed us of your intentions to accompany the Herald 'no matter what', has that changed?"

"N-No," Cullen shook his head.

"Good," Josephine pinned him down with a look before flicking her eyes to me. "As for Alexius, we've confirmed the Herald will meet with him at Redcliffe Castle. The trouble we run into is the difference in travel time. It takes nearly a week to get to Therinfal on horseback from Haven; it only takes four days to arrive in Redcliffe."

"Let me worry about that," Leliana offered. "This plan is contingent on both meetings taking place on the same day, otherwise word could be sent or spread as to our duplicity. The date is set, its just getting our people in place in time. We will all leave together, but the party meant to address the mages will hideout until the day of the envoy which is when your party will reach Therinfal."

"And who are these parties going to be comprised of?" I asked.

"The Herald, Leliana and her agents, Solas, Blackwall and Dorian will be attending the envoy, though Dorian will sneak through with Leliana’s agents," Cullen informed me. "Ser Dorian wishes to address his former mentor and call him back to sanity, if possible. Cassandra, Lady Vivienne, Varric, and I will be going to Therinfal."

"Varric and Vivienne have already gone ahead to South Reach," Leliana added. "Vivienne to entertain the nobles and see to their accommodations. Varric to meet with a contact before meeting you. Sera and the Chargers will not be accompanying us as they have their own tasks to see to."

"What tasks are those?" I quirked a brow. "They had no interest in going after aid?"

"Sera has Jenny business to see to, while the Chargers are assisting in chasing down a lead from one of Bull's Ben-Hasserath reports," Leliana replied. "Their tasks were pressing and we believed the parties were balanced enough without adding Sera or Bull."

"What is my place in this?" I asked.

"That has already been planned," Leliana met my eyes. "I simply need you to fulfill your role."

"That's not cryptic at all," I chuckled.

Leliana gave a slight smirk. "The less who know the details of the full plan the better."

"I understand," I shrugged. 

"So long as she is not being used as bait for another assassin without her knowledge?" Cullen bit at Leliana.

Leliana glared daggers at Cullen. "Have your men sufficiently beaten the villa into submission for its repairs, Commander?"

Cassandra made a disgusted snort, her lip curling, "Enough."

Cullen and Leliana glared at each other a moment longer before returning their eyes to me. "I should be in here more often." They all chuckled in response. 

"While we have you here, there are a few things we'd like your opinion on," Josephine offered. "We have been informed that your recommendations are to be taken as the Herald’s recommendations." 

"She...said that?" I asked, astonished. Josephine gave a nod and smile in response. "Alright, let's see what you've got."

We were locked within the War Room for a few hours as we discussed where to place my family members and how to handle certain issues facing the Inquisition. People looking to slander us; people asking for the Inquisition to intervene in their familial or political squabbles; things of possible interest to the Inquisition; mysteries no one else was looking into and so many other matters, my head began to spin a little. How does Ellana deal with all this?

"It's a lot to take in," Cullen spoke at one point, his eyes on my face and a sympathetic smile on his lips.

"It is." I nodded.

"I fear it is only going to grow in quantity," Josephine sighed. "We will have to come up with a different system for dealing with everything. We cannot remain locked in a room looking over every single report together. Our meetings should consist of the most important and weighty of issues, that cannot be decided upon without discussion. We should consider hiring personal aides for each of us?" Her eyes went to Leliana.

"I agree, but I would see them be my agents—those I trust. I will think on names for each of you and let you decide," Leliana offered. "Anyone who will be dealing directly with us or our documents must be trusted individuals. Spies are inevitable, we must fill the most vulnerable gaps with the most trusted people."

"Speaking of spies," Cullen interjected, "The Herald had an idea of placing Seeker Trevelyan amongst your people, Leliana."

"Seekers are trained to investigate and to filter out corruption," Cassandra offered. "Trevelyan seems a capable woman and well-liked by people. She would be suited to pulling information out with none being the wiser."

"Not to mention that her Seeker abilities would make for excellent interrogation tools," Leliana mused. "I will speak with the woman and ascertain if she is a good fit. Thank you, Commander."

"Thank the Herald," he nodded in my direction to which Leliana inclined her head. "Another matter, I'm afraid. A few of our workers fell through an abandoned mining shaft up near the main trebuchet. They sustained several injuries, but one was able to search around the shaft trying to find a way out. He said it bared little similarities to any mine he'd ever seen. Do we want to close it up or leave it open to investigate further after we seal the Breach?"

"Leave it open, but sure up the opening so no one else falls in accidentally," Leliana offered. "It sounds like it's worth investigating."

"We should warn the workers of the opening as well," Josephine stated. "We don't want any more harm to befall them."

"I will see it done." Cullen nodded. 

"Have you determined where we're going to put the templars and mages when they come?" I asked. "Beyond that, how are we going to handle things when they realize they've been deceived?"

"How will they know they were deceived?" Leliana asked, clasping her hands behind her back. "We never made promises that we would not seek out the aid of both parties to the mages or templars. We simply promised to send you to them."

"That's my point. Surely, they will realize there were two Heralds?" I quirked a brow. "Will not our entire plan be foiled at that point?"

"Not at all," Leliana shook her head. "They may figure out there were two Heralds, but they will still not know who the second Herald is or which of you is which. As I said before, if they're angry or threaten to withhold aid, we will take the leaders of both groups aside and explain our situation. I doubt the Templars know anything of the Venatori or the Elder One that Ser Dorian spoke of; if the mages know, that would also be a surprise. From the reports of Redcliffe, there is a general sense of unease and distrust, but there has been no mention of the cultists or their leader." Leliana handed me copies of the reports.

"And you believe that will be enough to placate them?" I asked.

"We need both groups," Leliana urged. "If they cannot set aside their current squabble to address the hole in the sky, understanding that we had to keep you safe from the obvious trap that was Alexius as well as petition the Templars’ help without them knowing we were also petitioning the mages’, then they are unworthy of our help. Both have backed themselves into inescapable corners. They will accept our terms, accept how our alliances came to be or they can try to regain the trust of the people of Thedas without us—without sealing the Breach. An impossibility, but they can try." I gave her a nod. 

"As to accommodations," Josephine began, "The Commander and I had a few ideas." Josephine was looking over her board. "You were saying something about...Cullen?"

I had been looking over the reports Leliana handed me but flicked my eyes up to Cullen at Josephine's words. His eyes had been on me, a small smile on his face. When Josephine spoke his name, however, it brought him out of his reverie.

"Hmm? I, ah-Yes," Cullen cleared his throat, his cheeks pinking a little. I couldn't help a small blush. Cullen unfolded a bit of parchment where he'd drawn ideas for building barracks for the templars and mages and spread out a map of the Inquisition's camp in Haven. "Haven has limited space. Perhaps we could set up something over here." Cullen pointed at a spot on Haven's map in the clearing beyond the hut Minaeve and I had been using.

"I will speak with our builders," Josephine offered, scratching a few notes onto her parchment.

"Now, is there anything else?" Leliana asked the others.

"I believe those were the most pressing matters," Josephine offered.

"Then I suggest we gather our parties and get on the road," Leliana ordered. "Time is now of the essence. We have ten days until our meetings are to take place."

…

Before leaving, I asked Minaeve to request any information or books she could get on the Fade, dreamer mages and blood magic. I knew any books on blood magic would only speak to its dangers, but if one held a clue, it could still be helpful. With the Inquisition resources growing, however, I hoped I could get more useful information. She promised to do her best. Once we had all of our people together, it was a hard ride to the Hinterlands. The days were spent pressing the horses to their limit, mud flying and the cold winds whipping at our faces. The nights were spent camping in the open air, not wanting to waste precious daylight setting up and tearing down a camp. Solas and I would setup wards surrounding our group to keep everyone dry and warm. Dried meat and hard cheese rations were passed around for meals. As soon as dawn broke, we'd be on the road once more. We were able to shave half a day's ride off our travel time with the efficiency. We'd slowed as we passed through the Crossroads, following the King's Road to the villa. Cullen had brought his horse close to mine. He pointed out all the changes that had been made since I'd last been in the Hinterlands: new homes, repairs, Fort Connor was being restored, bridges that had been fixed and the like. I'd stared longingly at Dennet's land as we passed, wishing to check in on Elaina and little Meira, but knew I couldn't.   I felt Cullen's leg brush against mine, guessing he'd done it on purpose to offer me comfort. He wasn't looking at me, instead looking to the watchtower. To any onlookers it would have appeared as if his horse simply got too close to mine before he corrected it. He'd urged his horse forward as he did to resume his position leading the recruits. He looked good atop a horse, as if he were born to it.   Progress was slow through the forest; the road winding, rocky and hilled, but I admired the beauty of the trees around us. I itched for my sketchbook to draw it all, but I'd have to sketch what I could from memory when I was finally able to draw again. The trees would be my favorite to capture, the way they stretched to the sky, the sun dappled on the ground from the thickness of the canopy. Large hills grew out of the ground as we reached the center of the forest, but there was a clear path that led us through the landscape. I could only guess the path led to the villa and whoever had built it intended for any visitors to have the best views of the forest. Soon, the trees opened up to the villa.   I understood why it was called the “Grand Forest Villa”, as it was a massive structure that seemed to have been birthed by the forest itself. Cullen was right in the architecture being unusual. Whoever had designed it had wanted it to be a part of the landscape instead of the landscape bowing to the structure. A waterfall cut through part of the villa and fed a large lake on one side, while the other was set into the rocky incline of a hill. Much of the architecture was open air at the top as if to allow the owner to see the forest at all times, but below were the more traditional stone walls of Ferelden architecture.   We made our way along the path, crossed the wooden bridge over the lake, up the incline and through the portcullis. Within, the villa was bustling with activity. Soldiers, scouts, and agents were all seeing to their business as the pounding of a blacksmith's hammer and the neighing of horses could be heard over the noise of the voices. As we entered, the activity stopped so the soldiers could give a salute...to me. I returned the salute and everyone returned to their duties.

"Welcome to Grand Forest, Herald," Vale's voice spoke to my left. "We're glad to have you with us."

"I'm glad to be here, Corporal," I nodded. I dismounted my horse as a stableboy held the reins. 

"I'm to speak with the Commander, but Kathryn there will show you and your party to the guest quarters." Vale pointed to an attendant who stepped forward to offer a bow. "We were informed to expect you for several nights while you see to business in the area."

"Forgive the intrusion, Corporal, I hope we do not impose upon you for any longer than necessary," I offered.

"It's no imposition," he shook his head. "Word of your coming has given my men a morale boost and put a little spring in their step. Stay as long as you need."

"Thank you, Corporal," I inclined my head as he saluted. 

He and Cullen went off with the recruits Cullen had brought along to be stationed here while the rest of us were shown to our quarters. Kathryn gave us a brief tour, informing us of when meals were served and how things generally worked within the keep. She hinted that the upper levels were not in as much use as the rest of the villa if we wanted to find solace there.    We thanked her for her help and headed for our rooms. Despite their location near the waterfall, it could not be heard nor were the stones wet as we walked the hallway of the guest chambers. I entered my room and nearly shouted out as a cloaked figure rushed me. They put a hand over my mouth before speaking. 

"Hush, sister," Ellana's voice whispered. "It's me."

"What are you—" I began. I looked her over; she was dressed as one of Leliana's agents.

She held a finger to her lips and nodded her head towards the bed. Leliana sat perched on the edge with her legs crossed. When Ellana nodded to her, Leliana gracefully stood and waved for us to follow. My brows shot up as she opened a hidden passageway and slipped inside. Ellana led the way and I followed.  The passageway was tight and curved sharply as it spiraled downwards. Eventually, it opened up to a cavern where the only light came from torches, and the roar of the waterfall filled my ears as it hid the cavern from onlookers. Leliana continued on, pressing close to the carved rock so she wouldn't fall into the water held within a reservoir. Slipping inside a door set within the rock, she finally stopped. The room was comfortable and seemed to have been a place of study at one time as bookcases filled the majority of it along with various instruments and a large desk. 

"Where are we?" I asked.

"This villa is fraught with secrets, and this was one of the few that my agent stationed here has ferreted out," Leliana explained. "It works perfectly for our current need."

"Which is?" I quirked a brow.

"Ellana needs to become the Herald, while you will assume the role of a prisoner to be escorted to South Reach for trial by Cullen and Cassandra."

"A prisoner? And why Cullen and Cassandra?" I asked.

"Yes, the Inquisition has been seeing to crimes occurring in the area and imprisoning perpetrators to hold them until their respective cities are ready to see to their punishment," Leliana stated. "We are, after all, a peacekeeping organization. As for it being Cullen and Cassandra, to make it look official and under the pretense that they are meeting with the Arl of South Reach."

"Is there a prisoner who actually needs to be taken to South Reach?" I asked as I began removing my armor.

"Yes," Leliana replied cryptically. "But they will be served their justice."

My eyes widened as I looked at the woman. "You'll...have them killed?"

"Your sister won't allow it, but I found a more useful means for them," Leliana shrugged. "They will be moved from their cell shortly, so you must get dressed to take their place before the guard rotation concludes." Leliana gestured to a pile of rough spun fabric. "You'll remove your wig and wear your natural hair down. We'll need to dirty you up and apply grease to your hair so it hangs in your face. It won't be a pleasant experience, but it'll do the trick."

"Do I look like this prisoner?" I asked.

"Why else do you think this will work?" Leliana quirked a brow. "She is an elf from the alienage in South Reach, dark hair, olive skin; beyond that, no one really remembers what she looks like."

"Is there a secret passage to the cells?" Ellana asked as she removed her disguise and donned the Herald’s armor.

Leliana gave a nod in response. "They weren't cells before, but we needed a place to hold prisoners."

I paused as I was finishing dressing. "Am I...to stay in the cell until it's time for Cullen and Cassandra to take me?"

"Yes, is that a problem?" Leliana asked.

"Yes." I replied, my voice strangled. "I-I can't do that."

"I need you to," Leliana searched my face, her own expressionless.

"Leliana, I cannot do that," I emphasized, my bowels turning to water. "I will...go mad if you force me to stay in a cell."

Her blue eyes were cold and calculating as they bored into mine. "I understand, but your sister's hair will give her away. It must be you."

I began breathing quickly. "Please, please don't."

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to Ellana. "You can do this, Talitha," she encouraged.

"No, no I can't," I begged. "I can't be in a place I—where I know there is no escape. Don't ask this."

Leliana and Ellana looked at each other. Ellana's eyes became pleading as she looked at the spymaster, who in turn was studying me. After several moments she blinked. "Very well." She stood and clasped her hands behind her back. "You will become one of my scouts until we're ready to move the prisoner. You will have to be in the cell for a small amount of time, but I won't ask you to be in there overnight. Dress in your sister's disguise and wait here while I pass word on. Herald, return to your room through the passage we used." Leliana swept from the room.

"I'm sorry, Talitha," Ellana apologized. "I should have asked you first."

"It's not your fault," I offered as my heart's pounding began to ease. "I just...can't." I pulled on the uniform.

"I should have realized," Ellana murmured.

"I'm just glad Leliana was willing to shift her plans," I bit my lip. "I didn't think she would."

"She may slowly be realizing that harsh routes are not always the route to take." Ellana gave me a quick hug and then slipped out the door.

Leliana returned shortly. "A minor inconvenience, but we will see the same end result. I apologize for not taking your situation into consideration."

I blinked in surprise, "Thank you."

She nodded. "Alright, Talitha, follow me." Leliana led me to another entrance at the back of the study room and had me follow her up a steep passageway. Once we came to a stop, she turned to me. "When you exit, do not hesitate, just walk. Don't look back or around. You will assist the other agents until I have word sent to you that it’s time."

I nodded and took a deep breath before she slid the passage open just enough to slip out. I walked forward and kept walking, noticing that a few bodies moved close to me and shepherded me along. I did as Leliana instructed and blended in with the group. The day was spent being shuffled around, though I was occasionally asked to run notes to Vale or Cullen. Neither recognized me, though I could hardly blame them as I scratched at the fabric that covered nearly all of my face for the hundredth time. How do Leliana's people handle these ridiculous things?   I stayed with them through meals and into the evening, going to the barracks where they slept. The next day, I awoke and followed them through their routines until I felt something shoved into my hand. I continued with the group until we stopped. Taking a moment to look at the note, it instructed me to go to the same secret passageway that Leliana had led me out of in one hour. I waited until we were on the move again and then made my way there. It opened just enough for me to slip inside.

Following Leliana to the study room, she had me dress in the rough spun clothing, dirtied me up. She led me through a maze of passageways to the entrance at the back of the cell. "Cullen will be here for you in an hour," she whispered before opening the door.

The prisoner was already gone as I stepped inside and I did my best to keep my breathing steady. I sat on the cot and focused on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, keeping my eyes closed. I could feel that other cell, hear his voice and goosebumps erupted in anticipation of Alrik coming to torture me. Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder.    I spoke that part of the Chant over and over again in my mind as I waited for Cullen to come. Breathe in, breathe out. Forty-five minutes. Chant. Breathe in, breathe out. Thirty minutes. Chant. I continued like that until the minutes wound down.

"This is she?" Cullen's voice spoke and I let out a breath.

"Yes, ser," the soldier confirmed. "The murdering thief to be taken to South Reach."

"Let's get her out and her wrists bound, soldier," Cullen instructed.

"Right away, ser," the soldier replied. I listened to the shuffling of feet, a key being slid into a lock, the click and groan of the door as it opened. The soldier made their way in and roughly pulled me from the cot before throwing me forward. "Get a move on, knife-ear."

"Soldier," Cullen barked, causing the soldier stiffened. "We may have prisoners, but you will treat them honorably—without derogatory terms. We are the Inquisition, not a group of disreputable individuals. Conduct yourself as such or see yourself dismissed."

"Yes, ser," the soldier nodded. His grip on my arm eased as he led me out the cell.

Cullen took my wrists and bound them, the tie loose, but only just enough. "This way," he said as he turned his back on me.

  The soldier prodded me along, up and out of the lower levels of the villa. Cullen led us to where Cassandra and three horses were waiting. Cullen assisted me up onto what would be my horse, his grip tightening for just a moment before he released me. He tied my hands to the horn of the saddle before tying my horse to his. He and Cassandra both saddled up then, their horses ladened with large saddle bags. Vale and a few others offered a salute as we rode out of the villa.  Cullen and Cassandra talked quietly as we worked our way back to the Crossroads, past Redcliffe and onto the Imperial Highway. There, a hard pace was set, and I felt a little jarred by not being in control of my horse, but we had to keep up appearances in case we were stopped along the road.

Once we were well away from any towns and had not run into any travelers for a time, they slowed our pace. I took the opportunity to pose a question that I had been wanting to ask the two of them. "We are heading into templar territory. I know it's to negotiate, but if something should happen...how does a mage face a templar? Could I defeat one?" They looked back at me a moment before looking at each other.

"It can be done," Cassandra began, though her voice was hesitant. "Mages and templars battling would be more a battle of wills, if we're strictly speaking of their abilities. A mage would need to stay at range, not allowing the templar to get close."

"A templar's abilities must be performed within fairly close quarters," Cullen added. "Beyond that, they must hope there's a good archer among them that can strike true once the mage has depleted their mana stores."

"And if a templar does get close?" I asked.

"Then, as I said, it is a battle of wills, but only if the mage can fend off a templar's physical attacks," Cassandra replied. "If your average templar were facing an accomplished mage, the mage would probably have a stronger willpower with which to cast than the templar has to reinforce reality."

"'Reinforce reality'?" I wondered aloud. "What do you mean?"

"Really, do mages know nothing of how templars work?" Cassandra question, exasperatedly.

"That is somewhat the point, Cassandra," Cullen chuckled. "If they knew, what good would templars be?"

"Some had to figure it out or we wouldn't be where we are now." Cassandra retorted.

"Indeed," Cullen agreed before looking back towards me. "A templar's abilities come from lyrium, this you know, but what that does most mages do not fully understand. I doubt many templars fully understand it either, to be honest. A mage accesses the Fade to work their magic, reshaping reality by manipulating their mana. A templar and the lyrium within them blocks a mage's access to the Fade by reinforcing the reality of the world—the solidness of the world becomes an inarguable fact. A stubborn world now becomes impossible for the mage to reshape. Spells cannot be cast and mana cannot be manipulated because the Fade has been essentially closed off."

"But if you have a mage that can push against that stubbornness, that through sheer will can force the world to bend to their whims," Cassandra interjected, "they could overcome a templar's abilities. A Seeker would be a tougher opponent as we can affect the lyrium within their bodies, which would be far harder to fight against by will alone."

"So, if their wills cancel each other out, then it comes to physical skill?" I asked.

"Yes and no," Cullen answered. "Essentially it would be a draw of a match, if they are of equal willpower. A mage could use their magic; a templar could use their abilities—while also being essentially immune to magic—until one or the other is worn down. Templars have a limit just as mages do. Then it would come down to physical skill."

"’Immune to magic’? Y-You're immune to magic? Then how...what about...blood magic?" I asked, my voice hesitant.

Cassandra shot a glare at me. "Why do you ask?"

"I would never use it, Cassandra," I assured. "I just...I'm trying to understand." Cullen had gone a little pale and I cursed myself internally. "Never mind, forget I asked."

"Bl-Blood magic is...different," Cullen began, to Cassandra and I's surprise. "Templars can still defeat it, but only before it is cast. Once blood magic is within the world, it is next to impossible to dispel it. This is because a mage is not drawing from the Fade for their power, but from life itself. It is still magic, but...the source of its power is far harder to fight against because it's not reshaping reality in the same way. Blood is physical, so therefore what is being manipulated is physical, to some degree, as well. If you can stop it when it is more magic than blood, it dispels the magic. Once the manipulation is complete, however, there is no easy reversal of it." 

"It is a horrid magic. I care not about the ‘who’ or ‘why’ it is wielded," Cassandra growled.

"I have only ever known wielders of blood magic to be nefarious individuals, using it for evil or selfish ends," I agreed. 

"As for the immunity I meant," Cullen continued, "Templars can resist magic. What magic would mortally wound your average person, a templar can—generally—survive with little injury. Though, it doesn't matter if you have magical resistance or not, getting singed with a fireball still hurts. I've the scars to prove it." He chuckled.

"So, as I understand it, in a match between a templar and a mage it comes down to proximity and willpower," I voiced. "Whoever can better bend reality to their will—whether to change it or reinforce it—would defeat the other, if physical skill doesn't come into play. If it does, then the mage best be able to match the templar or wear them down enough to escape. Let the mage hope they only face a templar and not a Seeker, if the mage is using lyrium. Does that sound right?"

"It does," Cullen nodded. "The other option, though very difficult to master, would be for the mage to purge their mana from their bodies, thus rendering templar abilities mostly useless. As I said though, a very difficult skill to master and even then, it only lasts a short time."

"I could spar with you in the future, using only templar abilities, if you'd like to test your willpower?" Cassandra asked me.

"That would be useful," I nodded to Cassandra. "What about you, Cullen?"

Cullen shifted in his saddle. "I...could not do that to you." He met my gaze. "A physical spar or even one where you use your magic, I do not mind. I ask that you do not put me through the pain of using templar abilities on you."

"I-Of course," I looked away from him. "Forgive me for asking, I shouldn't have."

"It is alright," he murmured. "As it is, I...have promised myself not to use my abilities. I left the Order. Therefore, I left those abilities with them."

I met his eyes. "I understand."

…

When we stopped for the night, Cullen and Cassandra set up a small camp after Cullen gently removed my restraints. I noticed there were only two tents and felt my gut twist. I set the campfire that was built aflame with a little effort and set wards about the camp. We were able to take our time as we'd gotten to the villa sooner than we'd anticipated. Cullen returned to me, his tasks done; he took my hand in his as he led us near the fire. We sat, not quite together, but not quite apart either. His gloved thumbs massaged my skin where the ties were, an apologetic look in his eyes.

"I am glad to see you two together," Cassandra murmured as she studied us from her spot. I blushed as Cullen shot her a scowl. "Truly, it is...it brings a warmth to my heart."

"Thank you, Cassandra," I murmured before meeting her dark eyes. "And...thank you."

She gave a soft smile. "You are welcome." Her gaze flicked to Cullen. "I will give you two some time alone," she spoke as she stood, her food eaten, heading for her tent.

"You don't have to do that, Cassandra," I urged, despite the butterflies flickering in my stomach as Cullen resumed rubbing my wrists. She turned her head back to meet my eyes, and I could have sworn I saw silver lining them. Her lips twisted into a half-smile before she ducked inside her tent.

I blinked and met Cullen's gaze. My heart stuttered at what they held as he scooted me closer to him, curving his body around mine. He placed a gloved hand on my cheek, his thumb running along my cheekbone. "How are you, my darling?" His voice was quiet and low.

"In desperate need of a bath," I groaned. He let out a breathy chuckle. "I am...nervous. I have no idea what to expect. What about you?"

He studied my eyes. "You will be fine. Cassandra and I are with you. Varric and Vivienne will be there as well. None of us will let anything happen to you." He looked away from me. "I will admit I am...not keen on being amongst the Order again, but if there are templars willing to aide us—as they should be—then I am willing to go try and convince them to join the Inquisition's cause. The templar that sent word to me sounds like an honorable man; one I wish more templars would emulate."

"What's his name?" I asked as I fiddled with his hair. It was soft and thick between my fingers. I could feel the remnants of something on the strands—no doubt whatever he used to tame his curls.

"Ser Delrin Barris," Cullen said. "Fereldan, second son of Bann Barris, a noble family to the northeast near Lake Calenhad." He chuckled to himself. "I did a little research into him and his family. Apparently, on his first assignment as a templar he led his men to victory against a horde comprised of blood mages, their thralls and a pride demon while keeping innocent bystanders from harm. Quite impressive, I dare say. Aside from his own merits, the man is descended from a few notable knights."

We continued to talk about various lighthearted things, sharing a few laughs as we even recounted some days within the Circle. Silence fell after a while and we descended into kisses, sweet nothings and holding each other.

"Cullen?" I breathed, my voice husky as he'd begun kissing my cheeks, my nose, everywhere, but my lips. 

"Hmm?" he hummed, the sound tickling my skin where his lips touched. 

"Should we turn in for the night?" I murmured. "Am-am I...are we...there's only two tents."

He froze where he was as I started speaking, his lips pressed just under my earlobe. Slowly, he backed away, his cheeks a little pink. He cleared his throat, not meeting my eyes as his blush deepened. "C-Cassandra said she laid out a bedroll for you in her tent." 

I gently turned his face to me, his gaze bashful as his eyes finally met mine. I kissed him gently. "Then I bid you goodnight...my knight."

He smiled at that, his eyes sparkling a little. "Goodnight, my darling."

…

We came to South Reach the day before we were to meet at Therinfal. Once we were within sight of the city walls, Cassandra called us off the road. She informed us that Vivienne and Varric had escorted the nobles onwards to Therinfal, where we would meet them. I was to remain in disguise until we left the city to avoid drawing attention, but instead of a prisoner, I would don the garb of an Inquisition recruit. She pulled a uniform out of one of her horse’s saddlebags, which included a wig comprised of mahogany hair and I quickly changed. 

"We will get a room at the local inn where you can bathe," she stated. "We'll room there for the night and then head out at dawn. Once past the city, you'll dress as the Herald."

We headed into the city, alive with activity. It was huge compared to Haven and I was a little overwhelmed by the size and the crowds. We passed a market where all kinds of wares were being sold. I noticed the entrance to the elven alienage and several shops and inns dotting the main square. Despite Cullen and Cassandra's imposing presences, hardly anyone paid us any mind.  We made our way to the inn that Leliana had instructed, got two rooms and made our way up. Cassandra let me bathe in private as she and Cullen visited. Leliana had used dust and dirt to grime up my skin and oils to grease my hair; I hadn't smelled, thankfully, but I was dirty.  As I bathed, I wondered how Cullen felt about being so close to his siblings. He hadn't brought it up, but I could tell it was on his mind. He would put the Inquisition first, but I had no doubt a part of him wanted to see if he could locate them; as much as a part of him didn't. He feared what they would think of the man he was now and had been in Kirkwall. Though I could make no claim as to his siblings thinking, from what he had told me, I guessed they would simply be happy to see their brother again. The rest would work itself out in time. It was not my place though, so I would wait until he wanted to talk about it.

I felt reborn after bathing. Donning the wig, tunic, pants and boots of my uniform, I left the room to knock on Cullen's door. Cassandra came to open it, stepping back to let me in before turning to say to Cullen, "Think on it, Cullen. It is your decision, however."

Cullen gave her a hard look before she left, but it softened as his eyes met mine. "Did the bath help?"

"It did," I smiled. “I feel like a new person. What was Cassandra talking about?"

"We were discussing how best to handle the templars once they're with us," he replied.

"I see," I studied his face. "I just wanted to say goodnight."

He stood from the chair he’d occupied, his movements graceful despite his size. He'd removed his armor, now down to his tunic, pants and boots. His eyes didn't leave mine before, quick as lightning, he took me in his arms, tipping my chin as he crashed his lips against mine. The kiss was passionate, urgent and eager. His lips bordered on demanding, but I could feel him reining himself in as he kept them from pressing too hard.  I welcomed the change from his gentle kisses, though refrained from winding my hands into his hair lest I draw a moan from him again. At my response, he turned my head to slant his mouth over mine, deepening the kiss, before pressing us against the door. His hands were strong as they moved from my hips, up to my waist before he wound his arms around me.  As warmth pooled in my gut, I pressed my hands along the hard curve of his back, clenching his tunic in my fists as I reached his shoulders. I pulled myself closer to him. The smell of him, his heat and the hard ridges of his body started to light a fire in my belly. He broke away and began pressing kisses along my jaw and down my neck. I started breathing quickly, my heart pounding against my chest, but I couldn't tell if I enjoyed the kisses along my neck or not as my stomach quivered.

"Cullen," I whimpered.

He froze. Gently, he brought his hands back to my waist. Pressing his forehead against mine, he caressed my nose with the tip of his own. "I am—"

"If you say you're sorry, I will be sorely disappointed," I breathed.

"Not sorry, then," he chuckled. "Forgive me if that was...too much."

"I enjoyed it," I admitted. "But I'd say for now, avoid kissing my neck."

He screwed his eyes closed as if not wanting to see something. "Of course, I—"

"You don't need to apologize," I held his face in my hands. "This is going to be...trial and error, I'm afraid."

He met my eyes from beneath his dark lashes. "As long as you are willing to bear with my fumbling."

I chuckled. "Happily, my knight."

"Maker's breath," he groaned. I laughed again and planted a kiss on his cheek. He turned back to me, giving me a peck on the nose before straightening.

We said goodnight before I left his room to join Cassandra. In the morning, we ate quickly before packing and pressing on to Therinfal. We stopped off the road once we'd exited the city so I could become the Herald. Once my disguise was in place, we pressed hard for the Redoubt, nerves and unease growing in my gut the closer we got. 

He laughed heartily. It warmed my heart to hear him laugh so and to see his broad smile. Still not the broad smile he'd had at the tower, but far closer than anything I had yet witnessed since we'd been thrown back into each other's lives. I watched as he laughed, his whole body shaking with it. My eyes travelled from his face, down his neck, to his broad shoulders, to the plane of his chest. I noticed that his doublet and tunic hung away from him a little; the fabric not as tight as it had been when we'd travelled back to Haven from the farmland. His face was a little more lean, his stubble thicker and less kept. He looked exhausted, despite his happiness and he had a sheen of sweat on his face. I noticed, too, that his hand was cold as I held it. I hadn't thought of it, given Haven's temperature, but his tent was cozy with the lit brazier and candles.

"Cullen?"

He looked at me, a smile still on his face. It fell as he studied my eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Are you alright?" I asked. "You look...unwell."

"As you know, I haven't been sleeping well," he replied, his gaze becoming forced. "With Haven's growth, the requests being made of the Inquisition and getting things prepared to go after aid, I'm afraid I haven't been looking after myself as well as I should. There's no need for you to worry."

"I'm never worried," I shrugged. Whatever it is, he's not ready to talk about it. I'll accept his answer, for now. 

"I almost believed you." He smirked, pulling that handsome scar and I couldn't help, but look at his lips.

Heat pooled in my stomach as I thought of them pressed against mine, my cheeks warming before I met his eyes. He was practically gloating as he watched me, his smile becoming catlike once more. Sweet Andraste...I love his bashful side, but this...this could ruin me. After a moment of just staring at each other, he moved the little table he'd set the chessboard upon from between us; my heart racing as he kept his eyes on me while he did. I was paralyzed by his gaze, burnished bronze in the soft light, that feline smile still on his face. He gripped the arms of my chair and leaned towards me, but didn't kiss me.   He's letting me choose. He hadn't kissed me on the lips since I'd asked to take things slow. He'd wanted to, but he wanted to let me lead. I met his lips, feeling as he chuckled before he kissed me soundly. If this is what intimacy is supposed to be like...how did people ever do anything else? He was gentle, but passionate. Slow, but eager.  He communicated without saying anything, asking if I enjoyed this or that. If he could tell I didn't, he stopped. He let me lead, even if he was in control. To know I was safe, that I could say no and stop whenever I wanted; to know that he wanted me to enjoy it as much as he did after years of having someone take what they wanted, how they wanted the difference was... restorative. I could hardly believe that he wanted me. Had feelings for me.

"Why?" I whispered, the word slipping out as he broke away.

"Why what?" he murmured as he pressed his forehead to mine.

"Why me?" I breathed.

He leaned back a little, resting on a knee, his arms on either side of me. His eyes studied my face, his own soft. "I could ask you the same."

"Moves and countermoves," I murmured, "My Commander, through and through."

He breathed a laugh, curling my hair over my ear. The pad of his forefinger traced the pinna to the tip. The sensation was ticklish and titillating, causing me to inhale sharply. "You were...the first elf I had ever seen. I'll admit I was...a bit enraptured by your ethereal features. Your ears most of all." He studied them with open adoration before he chuckled. "I often thought of the care the Maker took with the elves as he created them. Such graceful and delicate creatures compared to the dullness of humans. The Maker certainly enjoys wondrous variety when you look at the differences between humans, elves, dwarves, qunari and all of the wild creation."

I chuckled. "I never thought you were dull."

"One of the few, I'm afraid," he gave me a playful chuck under the chin, before blushing as he met my eyes. "Y-Your...beauty infatuated me, but as I came to know you, to know your character, how you saw the world, your faith...I-I," he swallowed hard, "Y-you, Maker's breath." His face shifted to a scowl as he cursed himself.

I chuckled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Did I put you on the spot, Commander?"

He scowled. "I do not need help being flustered around you."

"That makes two of us, I believe." I smiled.

He returned the smile before leaning in to kiss me again.

"Commander," Rylen's voice called from outside the tent just before our lips met. We'd closed the flap before setting up the chess game to keep out intruders, but it seemed our time was up. Something must have happened for Rylen to interrupt us. "Forgive the interruption, ser, an urgent message."

"Give us a moment," Cullen replied sternly, his eyes not leaving mine.

"Yes, Ser," Rylen replied before he chuckled. "I better not hear any moaning. Though on second thought..."

"Shut it, Rylen," Cullen snarled.

"Oh? Did I interrupt before ye got to that part?" Rylen egged him on. "No wonder yer—"

Cullen charged the tent opening, jerking the flap free of its ties before he yanked Rylen inside the tent, pulling him close to his now scarlet face. "I said shut it, Rylen!"

Rylen gave me a wicked grin, completely unfazed by Cullen's fury. "My lady."

"Rylen," I nodded as I rested my chin on my hand, unable to help returning his grin.

"Is this gentleman bothering ye?" Rylen quirked a brow.

"As a matter of fact—"

"Maker's breath," Cullen groaned, "Could you not encourage him? He hardly needs the help." Rylen and I shared a conspiratorial smile. "You're going to encourage him, aren't you?"

"Without a doubt," I grinned, innocently. Cullen sighed, though I could tell he was fighting a smile. He released Rylen and apologized. 

"There's no need to apologize," Rylen shrugged. "I'd be furious too if someone coc—"

"Rylen," Cullen clenched his jaw. "The message. Now."

Rylen smirked and winked at me. "The Lavellan clan is within hours of Haven. They sent a runner ahead. The Keeper wishes to speak with the Herald and," his eyes landed on me, "Talitha before they enter the village." His face turned serious. "Sister Nightingale believes it would be best that this meeting occur now, while we still have the cover of night to get them both out of the village. She's seen to opening a route to sneak them through so no troops stumble upon them."

Cullen looked to me. Can you give us a moment, Rylen?"

I did my utmost to keep my face neutral even as my bowels twisted into knots. My family. Here. And I would be seeing them.

"Of course," he inclined his head before stepping outside.

"I believe you would prefer I not be there for this initial meeting?" Cullen asked. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Cullen walked to me and kneeled on one knee in front of me once more. He took my face in his hands, his touch gentle. "What can I do?"

I put a hand over his, leaning into his palm. "Kiss me and tell me it will be alright. In a way that I know you're lying, but you're doing your best to encourage me."

He gave me the ghost of a smile before kissing me tenderly. "It will be alright." He took me in his arms, stroking my back. "I am here. If there is anything you require of me, you need only ask."

"I just need to know you're here," I murmured into his shoulder. "That is enough."

"Always," he breathed.

I turned to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek before breaking us apart. "It's time."

He nodded, stood and offered me a hand. I noticed a slight shake in his fingers before I took it. It felt even colder. He held my hand until we were at the tent opening. Rylen offered Cullen a salute. "I want you to escort them, Rylen," Cullen ordered as he returned Rylen's salute. "I will resume my duties."

He turned back to me, his smile gone, the face of the Commander returning. "Maker, be with you."

I smiled, touched his face for a moment before ducking out of the tent as I swung my cloak onto my shoulders. I turned to Rylen. "Captain."

"My lady," he saluted, his blue eyes finding mine. He waved for me to follow him. As we headed towards Haven's gates, his lips dipped in a frown, pulling his tattoos and the deep scar over his left cheek. "Forgive me for earlier. I knew there'd be no other way to speed him up. Time is of the essence, I fear." 

"I understand, Rylen," I offered as we passed the gates into the village. "I do ask that you ease your teasing a bit. He cares for you—admires you—but he's...a dignified man. He enjoys the teasing to an extent, in the right context, but..."

"I know, lass," he smirked. "Now that he has ye, I'll go easier on him. For the life of me, I tried everything I could think of to light a fire under his a—"

"Rylen," I scolded.

"Sorry," he blushed. "You really are his match, aren't ye?"

"If the Maker wills it," I sighed.

"He's mad about ye, lass," he murmured, "Ye should’ve seen him when he thought he might’ve ruined things. Never seen the man so out of sorts."

My heart warmed at that. "It wasn't my intention to make him so worried."

Rylen chuckled. "I think it's what he needed, lass. He'd been pussyfootin' around long enough."

We'd reached Ellana's cabin. I turned to Rylen before heading inside. "Thank you for tonight, Rylen. It was...truly a gift."

He barked a laugh. "No, no lass, the gift was mine. Watching Cassandra try to sneak around was truly the highlight of my day. That woman couldn't sneak to save her life."

I laughed. "I can only imagine." 

Rylen turned serious once more, offering a salute to me. "Cullen is a good man, lass. I will do my utmost to protect ye in his stead."

"I-thank you, Captain."

"My lady," he inclined his head before turning his back to me.

I gave a light knock before entering the cabin. I found Ellana being fitted into the newly commissioned armor for the Herald that Leliana, Cullen and Josephine had all designed together. Two sets had been made—one for me and one for Ellana, specifically for when we went to our meetings with the mages and templars. She had a bear hide bodysuit on that strapped around the arch of her bare feet and hooked around her middle fingers. The legs of the body armor had etching to mimic the appearance of cuisses, poleyns and greaves. Solana laced a tunic of chainmail over Ellana's chest. I could see wards engraved in as it fell into a fauld shaped like a staggered "v" between her legs to her thighs. The lay of the chainmail was adjusted before Ellana was buckled into a metal cuirass of polished bronze that was shaped to mimic her body.   Over that, she pulled a sleeveless vest crafted of bear hide as well, that curved at her rib cage and clasped over her breasts.  Then she slid Ellana's arms into a thick, cotton coat that ended at a clasp over her breasts in the front, but fell into a pointed flap down her back, the point ending at her knees. The coat had the Inquisition's symbol stitched with gold thread on the back, the sword extending a ways down the flap. The hide bodysuit and vest had high collars, coming nearly to Ellana's jaw. Solana wove a wide piece of lambswool around Ellana's waist, before sliding a leather baldric over her head to sling across her chest. Solana tightened the straps over Ellana's shoulder and over her ribcage to make sure the baldric was tight to her body to hold a staff.   Next, plated pauldrons of the same polished bronze were buckled over Ellana's shoulders, the plate falling to her elbows. Ellana held her arms out as Solana placed hide gloves on her outstretched hands before sliding smooth bronze gauntlets overtop and buckling them in place with smooth vambraces that stretched from her wrists to the tops of her forearms. Lastly, Solana buckled another leather belt across Ellana's hips, pulling the tail of the coat to her waist as she did. She looped a strap around the belt to attach a dagger to her side. Solana made a few adjustments, looked Ellana over and nodded.

"Finished. What do you think?" Solana’s brow quirked. 

Ellana stretched and moved around the room. "Sturdy, warm, flexible, but..."

"Yes?" Solana inquired.

"How do I pee?" Ellana's lips twitched as she asked the question.

Solana and I laughed. "I doubt you'll be worrying about that if you're in the middle of a fight," Solana mused.

"I won't be fighting anyone within the clan," Ellana scoffed before her eyes flicked to me. "Well, maybe Da if he thinks I let a shem take advantage of my sister." Her smile was warm despite her words. "Did you and your beau make up at last? Get anywhere?" Solana made a face as if she were vomiting in response to Ellana's question, but I couldn't help the broad smile that spread across my lips. Solana began undressing me. "I will take that smile as a yes," Ellana chuckled.

Talitha's armor was lain out on Ellana's bed. I noticed that more paintings decorated Ellana's walls: halla, trees, symbols of the pantheon and what I assumed was the clan. "We...kissed. After talking things through."

"Did you ask him about you being a mage?" Solana quirked a brow as she helped me dress in my armor.

"Yes, Solana," I sighed.

"And?" she voiced as she stood behind me.

"I can assure you, Cullen has come a long way from the boy in the tower and the man in Kirkwall." I met her coffee eyes as she came to my front. "Can you trust me? Even if you can't trust him?"

She paused her work and studied my face. "Yes. As I said, my worry is for you. I'm sure Ellana can agree—we only wish the best for you."

"Yes, my sister," Ellana agreed fiercely. "I only want your happiness and to keep you from harm."

I looked between them. "I am happy. He brings me happiness."

Ellana smiled broadly. "Then I am happy for you, my sister."

"I will try to be happy for you," Solana sighed. "Even if I still think you're mad." She smirked after a thought flitted across her face. "I will say though, what did the man do in the past few years? He has no right being that attractive."

I laughed heartily. "He's got to be something then if even Solana can acknowledge his handsomeness."

"I say he's downright alluring and I'm not even into shems," Ellana admitted. "If only he could keep that pretty mouth shut..." she flashed me a wolfish grin.

"I'd guess your sister prefers his mouth open," Solana wiggled her brows, suggestively.

"Blessed Andraste," I flushed. "Can we stop talking about Cullen's mouth?"

"Oh, come on," Solana huffed. "You've got to give us a little hint? How was it?"

I blushed deeply. "It was...wonderful."

"Randy Dowager you are not," Solana sighed heavily. 

"Solana!" I hissed as my face pounded in embarrassment.

"What?" she blinked. "A girl can daydream, can't she? I may not like templars, but I can only guess at the pent up need for—"

"Solana, please!" I begged.

Solana and Ellana began laughing heartily. "We're sorry, we just wanted to see how...far you two might have gone," Ellana grinned, sheepishly. "Clearly, your templar has manners and self-control."

I crossed my arms over my chest, my armor in place. "He does."

They shared a conspiratorial grin. These two meeting may have been a mistake. "Good," was all they said.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I? Everyone is going to make our lives a living hell," I sighed.

Their smiles widened. "It's only because we care for you."

I groaned. "Please be gentle with us both."

Their grins faltered. "We would never do anything to intentionally hurt either of you," Ellana assured.

"Well, I make no promises where Cullen is concerned," Solana grumbled.

"Solana," Ellana warned, to which Solana put her hands up. Ellana turned back to me. "We'd only tease enough to be caring, nothing cruel."

"I ask that you do not be cruel," I implored. "We've both...been through enough. Let us enjoy this at the pace we decide."

They turned serious. "Of course," they said in unison.

There was a knock on the cabin door. "Are they ready?" It was Leliana's voice. "We need to be going."

"They are, come in," Solana replied.

Leliana swaggered into the room, her hood and mask of Spymaster both in place. She looked us over. "Excellent. I continue to be amazed by Harritt," she nodded appreciatively in Ellana's direction. "That armor is truly intimidating, yet nearing celestial."

"I'd most likely agree with you," Ellana replied, "however, Haven is lacking in mirrors at the moment."

Leliana's lips twitched. "A negligence on our part. One I hope to have remedied soon." At that, she turned and left the cabin, waving for us to follow.

Rylen still stood outside, but brought up the rear as we all passed. Solana offered a goodbye before heading for our cabin. Leliana and her scouts led us through the village, through the woods and beyond the outer wall. Horses were saddled and ready at a designated spot, along with a few more of Leliana's people. "This is where we leave you," Leliana informed. "Your Keeper requested as few escorts as possible to keep fighting to a minimum. She says tempers are high after traveling through the mess the war has wrought upon Thedas. The Commander requested that Captain Rylen escort you and Charter will shadow you. I sent scouts ahead to ensure this was not a trap and to alert us if anything were to happen."

"I'm not sure it's wise to have the Captain escort us," Ellana began, "Our clan is not fond of templars."

"I'll wait outside the camp, Herald," Rylen offered. "I am to see ye safe on the road there. Once at the camp, the Commander requests I keep a respectful distance, but remain close enough to respond if needed."

"Smart man," Ellana nodded. "But we will be safe."

"Do you know why your Keeper would request to speak with you outside of the Inquisition?" Leliana asked.

"To ensure we are well and here of our own free will," Ellana answered, her voice heated as she addressed the Spymaster. "As for Talitha...do you not think we deserve to handle her return privately?"

Leliana lost her composure for a moment, regaining it quickly. She inclined her head. "Herald." At that, she disappeared into the shadows.

We mounted our horses and followed behind Rylen as he led us to the camp. My heart's pounding increasing as we got closer. I was unsure how I would feel walking among the clan again, seeing the Keeper, seeing Da. I knew that I wanted my relationship with Ellana restored, but the others? I was doubtful I could forgive them so easily. Ellana had been a child like me, no more in control of the situation than I, but the Keeper? Da? They made their choices and chose to abandon me. My adult self could reconcile the why, but my inmost self—the child abandoned, betrayed and alone—she still hurt. Andraste, give me strength. 

Rylen stopped his horse after a few hours of hard riding, turning to face Ellana and I. "This is as far as I dare go," he stated before turning to point towards a path within the trees. "According to Leliana's scouts, ye should be able to follow that path and it will take ye to yer clan's camp."

"Thank you, Captain," Ellana nodded to Rylen as she led her horse onwards.

"Herald," Rylen saluted before his eyes flicked to me. "I will be right here, lass. If ye need me send up a red flame for immediate danger. If ye simply wish to leave, come to me and I'll lead ye back, no questions asked."

"Thank you, Rylen," I murmured.

"My lady," he saluted once more.

I nudged my horse forward, urging it to a trot to catch up with Ellana who'd already entered the trees. Wind whispered through the branches and I couldn't help, but feel as if there were eyes upon me as we made our way along the path. I was convinced there most likely were eyes upon us, the clans' hunters and scouts watching our progress, assuring we had obeyed the Keeper's wishes. 

"Are you alright?" Ellana asked, her jade eyes flicking to me. 

"Nervous," I admitted.

Her brows knit with concern. "They are ready to see you."

"But am I ready to see them?" I voiced aloud.

"Are you not?" Ellana quirked a brow.

"I honestly don't know, Ellana," I met her eyes. "I have no idea how I will react to seeing them again. I have...too many emotions."

Ellana stopped her horse. "Would you prefer I go on alone? Rylen could return you to Haven. Charter can escort me back when I've finished."

I pondered the idea. Part of me wanted to say yes, to avoid this as long as possible. The other part of me said I needed to face this and get it behind me. It would be better to do it away from Haven, away from anyone. Anger, envy and sorrow were clawing their way along my insides up to my mind. A ghost of the sensation after I had broken the Rite. I did not fear losing control completely, but I worried that I would not be able to hold back whatever emotions surged their way forward upon seeing everyone again. "No." I shook my head, setting my jaw and squaring my shoulders. "I need to face this."

Ellana studied me, her brow furrowing more deeply. "Are you sure?"

"I am," I nodded. "I simply ask that you stay by my side, come what may."

Her tension eased a little at that. "I will."

We followed the rest of the path, the trees opening to a small clearing that was filled with Clan Lavellan. They had not setup camp completely, knowing that they would be moving on to Haven after this meeting, but they had still established themselves. It was like entering the ghost of a memory. The aravels ringed the camp creating a wall, but within the ring were a few tents and a large campfire. Trees had been felled to be used for makeshift seats and tables, the majority of which were occupied as the clan shared a communal meal. Ram and fish roasted on a spit over the fire; bowls laden with berries, plants and even insects dotted the makeshift tables. As Ellana and I passed into the camp, hunters began moving towards us. Bows out with arrows notched, but held in neutral positions in front of them. 

"Ellana?" one asked, a male who resembled Ellana and I. I wondered if he were my brother. Too old. Cousin?

"Mahanon," Ellana greeted.

The male broke into a grin before running to grab Ellana up in a hug. "Aneth ara, da'len! We feared you'd fallen into the jaws of the Dread Wolf himself." He set Ellana down and looked over her armor. "Instead, the shems seem to have fixed you up nicely." He flashed a impish grin. "And they call you 'Herald of Andraste'? By the Dread Wolf!"

"Mahanon," another hunter spoke, a female. Her features were harsh, her dark eyes even more so as she eyed Ellana. "Are we to welcome her back with open arms before she speaks with the Keeper? She's walked among shems, become a symbol of their god which caused the shems to forbid ours. Has she not set her back against us?"

"Aneth ara, Adrahel," Ellana bit to the female. "Fen'Harel ma ghilana."

The female bared her teeth at Ellana. "Na abelas."

"Enough you hellcats," Mahanon ordered, his jovial demeanor disappearing. "Adrahel, Ellana is our First—that has not changed. You will show her the proper respect. If you cannot, then I suggest you go and find something useful for yourself to do." Mahanon's stare became commanding and Adrahel inclined her head before stalking off into the camp.

Mahanon's eyes found mine. He was the picture of a Dalish hunter. Lithe, muscular and wild. His hair was nearly as long as Ellana's, though he had his pulled into a ponytail and the sides of his head were shaved. It seemed nearly everyone in the clan wore their hair in the same twisted fashion, but each decorated their hair with something different. Mahanon had feathers woven into his instead of gold and I could only guess that the feathers were either hawk or owl to complement his vallaslin dedicated to Andruil that decorated his face. His eyes were hazel with flecks of green as he studied me. His face was angular, masculine and imposing. "So this is little Meira?" he looked to Ellana for confirmation.

Ellana nodded. "I fear she may not remember you or any of the others." She turned to me. "Meira, this is our cousin, Mahanon. He is Ma's nephew. We used to all play together and Mahanon kept us safe whenever Da had to be away."

"Do you, da’len?" Mahanon asked. "Remember me?"

I gazed at the male and as I did his features remained rigid as if he were as unsure as I was as to how to feel. "Forgive me, but I do not."

He let out a sigh. "I suppose it has been a long time."

"My life here did not end in a way that made me want to remember it," I ground out.

His eyes flicked to me in surprise before understanding colored his features. "Ir abelas, Meira. I should not have said anything." His eyes flicked to Ellana before he turned. "Come, the Keeper is waiting."   Mahanon led us through the camp and I did my best to keep my head high as I felt many eyes and whispers follow us. Some greeted Ellana in joy, but others were like the female that had argued with Mahanon: angry. I felt it was to be expected that some would feel betrayed by Ellana for being so willing to assist the "shems" and their god. My eyes flicked to the Breach—still visible even from here—and reminded myself that while their feelings were understandable, such petty squabbles would mean nothing if the Breach swallowed the world. Perhaps they did not grasp the gravity of the situation Thedas was currently in?

Mahanon led us to a tent towards the back of the camp. The halla were being kept to the left of it while the statues of the pantheon were sat to the right; on display but not set in their proper places. Mahanon pulled the flap of the tent open and gestured for us to enter. His eyes followed me as we walked inside. My eyes landed first on the group of elves that I had no doubt were my family. Jade eyes and ebony hair dotted nearly all of them and I saw several variations of Ellana and I's face in theirs. Ma and Da stood at the back, wrinkles on their skin and silver in their hair denoting their age. Three males stood tall, one female of breathtaking beauty, a little boy who studied me and a babe that was slung across Ma's chest comprised my siblings. So many. And none of them were born with magic?    Then my eyes caught on Deshanna and I couldn't help the anger that flickered in my chest. Her skin was darker than Ellana and I's and her eyes were nearly as dark. Her hair—silvered with age—was styled in twists, decorated with gold and piled atop her head. She leaned on her staff. A simple, wooden thing that was wrapped in leather. She'd carved images into the wood, but I couldn't make out any details.   Their clothing was made of furs, cloth and braided leather; revealing compared to what humans typically wore, thus showing how every aspect of their lives depended on the offering of the forest. My eyes left Deshanna and found Ma and Da's. Da's dark eyes were guarded, but studied my face hungrily. Ma was holding back tears, her fingers gripping Da's tightly. As I looked at them all, I could feel my mana beginning to writhe along my bones. Electrifying my blood as I felt so many emotions welling up: anger, betrayal, happiness, relief, anxiety, and a deep sorrow yawning wide within my heart.

"Meira, this is...our family," Ellana spoke, her voice quiet as she raised a finger to point to each sibling. "Our brothers: Theran, Sanar, Arlen and Camlen. Our sisters: Laren and Fioren." I met their gazes, but did not smile. Neither did they. "Everyone, this is your sister, Meira. We are twins, but she's in disguise for her safety and my own. We found each other again after the Breach in the sky appeared." 

Ellana went on to fill the silence, describing everything that had happened since she fell out of the rift below the Breach. Explaining how I'd come to be a part of the Inquisition, how I'd been Tranquil but freed of the Rite, what my role would become in the future and what my role was now. The more she talked the more pained Ma and Da's face became as they looked at me and the more panicked Ellana's voice sounded to my ears. As if she were desperately trying to hold together a cloth that was unraveling between her fingers. Once Ellana finished, silence filled the tent again.

Deshanna spoke, her voice gentle. "I...thank Mythal for the blessing of seeing you well and grown," she gave me a soft smile. "Sending you from us—"

“If you say it was hard for you, I will walk out of this tent and not look back," I bit out. My voice so harsh, it sounded foreign to my ears. I noticed that everyone in the room flinched as I said the words.

"Meira," Ellana said, softly. "Please, let them speak."

I gave her a harsh look, but reigned in my anger. "Forgive me," I apologized before looking at the ground. "Perhaps this...wasn't a good idea."

"Da'len," a deep voice spoke. Da's voice. "Your anger is understandable and even deserved. What we did to you...it was wrong." I looked up to him in surprise. His face was tight with emotion. "We—the Keeper and I—wanted to stand before you and ask for your forgiveness. We felt it necessary to ask for that forgiveness before your Ma and siblings." I saw Ma's head raise a fraction, her chin coming forward. "We knew the moment we sent you off, it was wrong. We could have—should have—handled it differently."

"Differently, but we did what was best," the Keeper interjected.

"So, you would still have sent her away?" Ellana demanded, rage in her voice, "When you wrote to me telling me you wanted to ask her forgiveness, I thought you'd seen the error of your ways. That what happened to her and I would never happen again." She was baring her teeth. "That's not what you meant, was it?"

"This is perhaps where the conversation should be private, Ellana," Deshanna ordered, her gaze cool.

Ellana looked at her, confusion coloring her face. "Why? If you want to regain honor in the sight of my siblings and mother, then should not all of this occur before them?"

"Ellana, my child," Ma spoke, her voice calming, "Listen to the Keeper."

"No!" Ellana barked, "I am tired of this clan keeping secrets from me! I am tired of being treated like a child."

"Then stop acting like one," Da scolded, his voice harsh, "Fen'Harel ma ghilana, da'len."

"Ma harel lasa!" Ellana spit. 

"Vhenan, hush," Ma pleaded before ushering herself and the others out of the tent, save Da.

Ellana was absolutely seething and at her anger, my own cooled. They had something to tell me—us—and another angry voice would only prolong the truth. I was hungry for it, despite the fear trickling down my spine. What secrets was Ellana referring to? 

"Ellana, Feldor," Deshanna spoke, her eyes not leaving mine, "This next conversation needs to take place between Meira and I alone."

"No," Ellana argued, "I will stay by—"

"Dirthara-ma, Ellana," Deshanna barked which caused Ellana to snap her mouth closed. She glared at the Keeper, but said no more.

I placed a hand on Ellana's arm. "I will hear what she has to say."

Deshanna waited for them to leave the tent before gesturing for me to sit on a cushion. I did, crossing my legs. Deshanna kicked a cushion in front of me and lowered herself onto it. She, too, crossed her legs as she sat, her knees touching mine. She sat her staff behind her and then grabbed my wrists with her hands. I tried to yank them back, but her grip was firm despite her age. "What are you—" I began to ask.

"I felt your mana earlier. There is a war within you. Ellana said you had been Tranquil and freed...I fear that war is of darker origins than you realize," she spoke cryptically, "An origin I took part in creating."

"What do—"

Deshanna said nothing as she dug her thumbs into my wrists. I cried out, but it was cut off as we were pulled into the Fade.

…

I felt as if I were drowning, my lungs fighting for air and burning as water seeped in. I was thrashing, choking, my mind reeling. I sensed the Fade, sensed Deshanna moving around within the part connected to me, but could see none of it. I felt hands grab me and yank me to solid ground. I collapsed to my hands and knees, gasping for air.

"Creators, da'len," Deshanna swore. "I did not know you were deliberately keeping yourself from entering the Beyond. The journey would have been far less painful if you'd been free of such a sedation."

I felt the Fade for a moment longer before it slipped away. I was still gasping for air, my body shaking. I blinked and realized we were still in Deshanna's tent. "Where are we?"

"The mortal realm, child," Deshanna answered. "I needed only to look at your memories to learn what I suspected. How quickly after the Rite was broken did you begin entering dreams?"

My head snapped up to her. "How did you know? H—ho—"

Deshanna's face was grim. "You were born a dreamer, Meira. You are a somniari—it was not granted to you by the Breach."

"But I—I've never," my mind couldn't form the words I wanted to say, it was still recovering from whatever she had done and my thoughts were racing.

"You've never used your gifts before?" She finished for me. "Yes, you have, you simply don't remember."

"Why are you speaking as if I should know this? As if this should be obvious to me?" I snarled. "Spit it out!"

"You came into your magic at the age of five," Deshanna began.

"No, it wasn't until later, I was nearly ten."

Deshanna put a hand up. "If you are going to counter every statement I am about to make, this is going to take longer than we have time for, let me speak." I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "You came into your magic at the age of five. That is almost unheard of, but beyond that your magic was not elemental when it first appeared, but of the somniari. You were...I honestly do not even know how to describe it." There was fear in her voice as she spoke. Fear of me?

"You made others see what you wanted them to see, you twisted reality itself; entered their minds while awake or sleeping...spirits and demons were drawn to you. It took constant supervision and patrolling of the Beyond on my part to keep you safe. Eventually, your powers as a somniari were so beyond the realm of knowledge that I possessed...but we didn't want to send you from us as a dreamer and I feared seeking further knowledge would draw others to you." Her fierceness ebbed. "So...I used blood magic to seal away your abilities. It was a powerful spell, one that required...sacrifice." Her eyes fell.

"You. Did. What?" I bit out each word. Blood magic. Tainted. Foul and corrupt. "What do you mean sacrifice? What in the Maker's name did you do to me?"

Her gaze snapped to mine. "I saved you, girl," she spit. "Don't you dare judge me for the actions I took to protect you and the clan. If I hadn't sealed your powers away you would have killed us all." Her eyes turned to flint. "Or I would have had to kill you to put an end to it. Would you have preferred that? Death?"

I got in her face, utterly snarling. "While you were gallivanting through my mind, did you not see all I got to enjoy as fruits of your choices? What do you think? A nice grave for me to be curled up in for eternity to the absolute hell I endured?" The Keeper did not back down. 

‘Meira’. A voice—Purpose—spoke. ‘Meira, you don't mean that’. I flicked my eyes to the right and nearly toppled backwards. Purpose was there—as a ghost, but it was him. He wore Cullen's face still, though a perfect version, not the face of the man I loved. 

Deshanna followed my gaze and her eyes widened. "Creators!" She grabbed her staff and took a stance to attack.

"No!" I lunged between them. "Don't. This-he helped me. He's a spirit, not a demon." I turned to Purpose. "What—how are you here?"

Purpose's eyes—pure gold to Cullen's amber—glared at Deshanna. "When she violated your mind, it allowed me to slip across for a moment. I won't be able to stay long lest we risk an incident, but I wanted to speak with you...with her." His eyes were full of rage as he gazed at Deshanna. "The spell you used on her was repulsive. You're a dreamer, why didn't you seek out a spirit of Wisdom to help you?"

"Do not lecture me, spirit," Deshanna crossed her arms. "The last time a Keeper of this clan sought out a spirit of Wisdom, it twisted him into an abomination and nearly led to the destruction of our clan. I will not entertain spirits or demons. I enter the Beyond only when I must and only to protect my mind and others."

Purpose flashed a smirk. "So you fear your gift and in turn wanted her to fear as well." Purpose met my eyes. "Do not listen to this fool, Meira. I would help you. Other spirits would help you as they have helped other dreamers in the past. It is up to you how you see us. If you seek us for noble purposes, for true wisdom, in pure intent, we would be your allies. The potion you've been taking...I can't help you because of it."

"Harel," Deshanna growled. "Of course you would offer assistance. In exchange for what? Possession?"

"Both of you shut it," I shouted absolutely bewildered as to what was even going on and fed up. "Purpose, back to the Fade. I will speak with Solas when I return to Haven. As for you, what was the sacrifice you made to bind my abilities?" Purpose disappeared.

Deshanna's face softened. "Most of my magic," she admitted, softly. 

I was stunned. "What?"

"I gave up most of my magic," she said again. "It wasn't a spell that required all my blood, but a great deal of it. In turn, it limited my abilities."

"Why—why would you do that?" I asked. "You seem to...hate me."

Deshanna's face broke, her eyes welling with tears. "I do not hate you, da'len. Not at all. I love you. Loved you enough to give up part of my self to save you from a fate worse than death. Aside from that, I am this clan's Keeper. It is my duty to see to the wellbeing of my people." 

"So if the spell worked, why did you still send me away?" I asked.

"Because when I locked away your dreamer abilities, elemental magic took its place," she explained. "You are not nearly as gifted with the elements as you are a dreamer, but even then we risked the ire of the templars and the humans if we kept you with us."

"So you gave me a pack and sent me on my way?" I scoffed.

Deshanna met my eyes, shame in her own once more. "Your father followed you until he saw you were safe. He was forbidden to interfere, but he was to make certain of where you ended up."

Rage lit anew in my gut. "'Forbidden to interfere?' So he watched his daughter be humiliated and nearly stoned to death before the templars intervened and took me to the Circle?" Deshanna wouldn't meet my eyes. "He did, didn't he?"

"He was determined to follow you, to see you safe, but I forbid him from interfering. It was up to Mythal whether you made it to safety or not—as is the way of our people."

"Barbaric," I seethed, "It was barbaric."

"You lived, did you not?" Deshanna quirked a brow. "And as Ellana tells it, you are not so angry as you seem to be now. Or did you lie to her?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again. I took a deep breath in through my nose and out. "I did not lie. I am angry and I fear it will take some time for me to not be—especially given this new revelation. What you did was wrong in so many ways. Not only did you betray me by sending me away, but you violated me with blood magic." She opened her mouth to speak, but I put up a hand. "That being said, I do believe I am on the path I am meant to be. The Maker has had his hand upon me, guiding me to where I am now. Without being sent away, I would not be." I took a deep breath. "Perhaps in time, I could come to forgive. For now, however, I ask that you stay far from me."

Her eyes glistened with tears, but she blinked them away. "I understand, but...I could teach you how to control your abilities instead of your needing to take that potion. Take it for too long and eventually its effectiveness will wear off. Believe me when I say I know from experience."

"I would not ask for your help unless my life depended upon it," I stated. "There is a dreamer among the Inquisition. I will turn to him for guidance."

Deshanna nodded her head. "For what it's worth, I did try to train you when you were young. Your abilities were...unique and I could only do so much." She met my eyes, her own filled with a war of emotions. "I am...truly sorry for what I put you through...and all that came after. We will aid in closing the Breach, if we can, and if your Inquisition has need of us. After that, we will return to Wycome."

"I think that would be best," I offered as I turned to leave.

"Mythal'enaste, Meira," Deshanna inclined her head. "Dareth shiral."

I said nothing as I stepped outside. Da stood with Ellana, but they were feet apart. Ellana was shaking with rage as she glared at Da, while Da's eyes looked over my face. "She told you then?"

"To what piece of wonderful information are you referring to, Da?" Ellana hissed. "The fact that she was violated with blood magic as a child? The fact that you witnessed her near death before she was taken to the Circle and did nothing? The fact that Deshanna seems to believe Meira is a monster?" I thought Ellana could not have gotten more angry than she was, but her face was positively terrifying as she spewed at Da. 

Da's eyes stayed trained on me. "All of it. I told Ellana. I will not allow Deshanna to keep her in the dark any longer."

"Yes, she told me," I replied. "What do you have to say? She couldn't decide between defending herself, refusing to take any blame and justifying her actions. Will you do the same?"

"No," he shook his head. His dark eyes full of regret. I noticed he still wore his hair cropped short, not long and twisted. It was speckled with silver, there were wrinkles in his face, but he was still well-built. He wasn't wearing armor, instead a mixture of cloth, leather and fur. He looked to Ellana. "Da'len, I did not stand idly by while your sister was facing her attackers. I went to the templars and told them a mage girl was being attacked in the market. I care not what Deshanna commanded. Mythal was not going to suddenly appear and save Meira from a gruesome death. I was there; I am her father and I would protect her." Ellana's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide. I couldn't blame her, Da had essentially blasphemed against Mythal with his statement. Da looked to me. "I protected you time and again on the road; the only thing I did not do was reveal myself to you."

He let out a deep breath. "I should never have let her do any of the things she did." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Your mother and I were terrified for you; fear causes us to make horrible choices. Desperation drives us to places we never think we will go." He found my gaze once more. "We should have taken you and gone out on our own to find someone who could help you." He ran a hand over his face. "We did consider just taking you to a Circle, but...we feared the templars would make you Tranquil. We did not wish that fate for you. It seems they did anyway." There were tears forming in his eyes, even as he clenched his jaw in anger. He turned and waved a hand asking us to follow. "If you would allow us, your mother and I have something we wish to discuss with you."

Ellana looked my way. My heart broke for her. She was...dispirited. Her face was still livid, but her eyes held fear, disbelief, betrayal and despair. Deshanna had broken her faith in her, betrayed her trust. A part of me wondered if Ellana had believed that the Keeper would have answers for her—for me. Instead, she'd torn Ellana's innocence apart in one fell swoop. I am so sorry, my sister. I took her in my arms and held her against me. Her arms crushed me against her. "I should never have brought you here," she hissed.

"I needed to know," I murmured, "Perhaps now Solas can help me find answers since I have the full story. I will ask Minaeve to request any and all information on dreamers." I felt Ellana nod into my shoulder. "Let's see what our family has to say."

…

"You...you want to join the Inquisition?" Ellana asked, disbelief in her voice. "You want to leave the clan?"

Ma and Da exchanged a glance. "Yes," Da said. "We would have come on our own if the Keeper had not decided to come to you." He intwined his fingers through Ma's. "Now, I wonder if we shouldn't have anyway."

Ma still had tears flowing down her face. Da had confessed everything to her that she did not already know in front of Ellana and I. I told them of my life upon their asking; I didn't tell them everything, but enough. Ma had sobbed for me and Da cursed himself for ever giving into fear. Ma had begged my forgiveness.   Though I was angry and overwhelmed with a host of emotions, my heart pricked with compassion for them. They had tried to do what they thought was best for me, listening to the counsel of their Keeper, in order to protect me. Da was right in saying that fear and desperation could twist anyone into doing something heinous because they believed it was for the right reasons. Cullen had been there and I'd forgiven him for his wrongdoing. I challenged him, but I forgave him. If I can do that for the man I love, can I not do that for my parents who love me? I forgave them, feeling a weight ease in my chest as I did. I would be angry, but I could at least release them from the chains of guilt they held.

"Why?" Ellana implored. "You—you acted as if I were in danger amongst the Inquisition. That I should leave at the first opportunity. That I was shaming the clan by taking on the role of their 'Herald'."

Da crossed his arms over his chest. "We did, until we heard of the Inquisition in action. Of it's 'Herald' in action." Da glanced at me. "Deshanna is only offering to help out of guilt. If she had her way, she would have met with you, played the victim seeking justification and upon receiving would have left. She has always led us true—or so I thought—but when word came of you, of all that had happened...she spun out of control. I tried to voice my concerns with the others, but they had no ear for it."

"I've already lost you both once," Ma interjected, "I will not lose either of you again." Her jade eyes found mine, a tender love burning in them.

"We know we have done nothing to earn a second chance from either of you," Da began, "But if you would have us, we would join you."

Ellana stood straight, donning the face of the Herald. "And what would you bring to the Inquisition?"

Da looked a little taken aback, but quickly recovered. "As you know, I am a blacksmith of no small talent and a warrior when needed."

Ma squared her shoulders. "I cared for the halla, I can care for any animals or livestock the Inquisition needs tending. I am also adept at caring for plants if there is need for a medicinal garden."

"And I am one blessed archer, not bad with a pair of daggers either," Mahanon's voice spoke as he entered Ma and Da's tent. He had a wicked grin on his face, making his angled features soften. At his appearance, a thought crossed my mind. Do I not remember him because of the blood magic? Is that why childhood memories are difficult to recall? "If you're leaving aunt Elolora, then I'm gone too. You're the only family I have left."

"Mahanon, you can't," Ma protested. "The clan is your life. You hate humans."

Mahanon shrugged. "I'll liven up the Inquisition then. I've already made up my mind and you won't dissuade me."

"What about our brothers and sisters?" I asked, causing all of their eyes to turn to me.

"Theran and Sanar are decent hunters," Mahanon spoke. "Arlen's apprenticing under your father and Cam's too young, but he could probably assist your mother. Laren is a vicious warrior and obviously little Fioren can't be too far from your mother." He glanced at where the babe slept snug against Ma's chest.

Ellana considered for a moment. "What do you think, Meira?"

Everyone's face became serious as they waited for me to speak. I spoke the truth. "The Inquisition is open to all who are looking for a second chance."

Ellana nodded. "I will tell the Keeper. The clan will be staying here, I refuse to let her near Haven. You all will come back with us." Her face was dark as she spoke those words. "Meira, after they've finished packing, I'll meet you on the outside of the clearing." She looked at Ma, Da and Mahanon. "Meira is to be addressed as Talitha after we leave the camp." Hesitating a moment, they answered with nods. Ellana flicked open the tent and stalked towards the Keeper's tent. I could see the Mark crackling as she walked away. Maker, give her strength.

…

Upon our return to Haven, I wanted nothing more than to go to Cullen's tent and throw myself into his arms. The whole way back I could feel myself slipping further and further into sorrow. My Keeper had tainted me with blood magic to keep my true nature at bay—and what she described was monstrous. Making people see what I wanted them to see, bending reality itself, entering dreams—minds—at will...Oh Maker, know my heart. I knew dreamers were somewhat of a mystery, but the idea of what I could do was terrifying. Purpose said he could help me; I knew Solas was a dreamer, but there was no guarantee that he would help me. What would Cullen think of all this? Would he still be unafraid of me when I was now becoming afraid of myself? 

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I hadn't even realized we'd dismounted and were back in the village, walking by the soldiers' tents. "The Herald needs to give our Commander a briefing about the meeting with the Lavellan clan," Ellana offered, quirking her brow. I began to shake my head in refusal. She gripped my shoulders, bringing me face to face with her, her voice was low as she spoke. "That wasn't a request. I am ordering you to go to him. If he is the man you believe him to be, he will accept what you tell him."

"Ellana, I-I can't—" I pleaded.

"You can and you will," she narrowed her eyes. "You endured so much to get to where you are, do not let this keep you from him. This information is not exactly new and no matter what might have happened, you are here now. In control, equipped with the knowledge to seek out instruction." She searched my eyes. "If he loves you, he will support you and help you face this. Do not shut him out for fear of what could happen. Give him a chance."

"Why are you encouraging me to go to him? I know you don't care for him," I murmured.

Hurt flashed across her face. "I just had my whole world turned upside down. I have no doubt that you did too. If I had arms to wrap myself into, that's where I'd be headed now. He cares deeply for you, Talitha. Find comfort in him because I know you need it. I will be of no comfort to you right now."

I put a hand on her face. "Ellana."

She broke away from me. "Come, let's change. I will see to our family. There will be a council meeting in the morning. You'll need to be the Herald anyway."

I did as she asked, neither of us speaking as we stripped our armor and dawned the more casual clothing of the Herald and Talitha. Ellana headed out the cabin first, the lambswool cloak in place as she pulled its hood up to hide herself. I took a deep breath and headed for Cullen's tent. I stood outside the flap, it was tied open. I cleared my throat before speaking. "Commander? It's the Herald." I'd barely finished my words before he was there. He wore the mask of the Commander, but I could see the worry in his honey eyes. He was down to his tunic and a pair of linen breeches. His hair was mussed, the curls coming out in spots and he looked slightly rested. I realized I must have woken him from sleep. "I-I woke you, didn't I?"

"Do not worry yourself, Herald," he crossed his arms over his chest. As he did, his he looked down and realized he was still in his nightclothes. "Though I do ask that you forgive my state of undress." He doesn't realize it's me, not Ellana.

"It's understandable, Commander," I forced a smile. "Do you mind if I come in? I was told to brief you on the meeting with my clan."

He took a step back, allowing me room to enter before he turned back to close the flap. "Of course. Though, I do not think it urgent if you would prefer to wait until the meeting in the morning? That is, if you were wanting to get some sleep."

"I'll do my best to keep it short, Commander, so that you may return to bed," I chuckled, despite the twisting of my heart.

He went a little red. "Maker's breath—that's not what I meant." His eyes bored into mine.

"Ask the question you're wanting to ask, Commander." I waved a hand. He still doesn't realize it's me, does he?

His blush deepened. "I-er-yes. That is...how is Talitha?" He kept his face professional, but I could hear the worry in his voice.

"I am...barely holding it together," I smiled before a sob tore from my chest.

In an instant, he was holding me. His arms strong, warm and safe. He rubbed my back soothingly as he muttered words of comfort. I sobbed against him, pressing my mouth into his chest to quiet my sorrow. My knees gave out and we sank to the floor. He pulled me into his lap, cradling me against him as he gently rocked me. I couldn't bring myself to speak, I kept crying until I had no more tears to give and my throat was raw from my cries. Through it all, he held me, rocking me gently, rubbing my back soothingly. At some point, he had begun singing. Quietly, but with such silvery tones that they soothed the raw edges of my heart. Eventually, my sobs quieted and I could hear the words he sung. 

"Shadows fall and hope has fled. Steel your heart, the dawn will come. The night is long and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon, the dawn will come," he sung the Chantry hymn over and over, hoping the words would bring me comfort. I listened to the pounding of his heart, felt his chest vibrate against my cheek as he sung the words. 

When I'd finally settled enough to speak, I lifted my face to his. There were tears in his own eyes as he stroked my cheek. He kissed away my tears before I pulled him into a kiss. He was achingly gentle and I melted into him.

"Tell me what's wrong, my darling," he murmured once I broke away. "Tell me what happened." So, I told him. I couldn't meet his eyes, fearing what I would find there as I did, but when I had finished, his fingers gently lifted my chin. His eyes were soft as I met them. "We will face this. Together."

  I knew she meant in regards to Meira. I ducked inside my tent, my legs shaking and in need of a brief rest. I threw myself into my chair. ‘I think you've had enough females visiting your tent as of late’. I groaned and smacked myself in the forehead. You complete dolt, Rutherford.      Of course Minaeve would be angry with me. She was Meira's friend. She'd seen me with another female in my tent looking...intimate to a third party observer. How did I not realize what she would have thought? How am I going to explain this to Meira? I groaned again and put my forehead on my desk.   I pictured her, between my arms as she leaned against that little table in the war room, her eyes wide, her cheeks bright with color, her full lips parted as she breathed quickly. The way her eyes had flicked to my mouth as we'd come so close. Heat pooled in my gut.    To the Void with that runner! I pulled the duty roster from the nearby pile and found the name of the recruit: James. I adjusted the roster to assign him to latrine duty for the next month. I sighed after I finished and scratched it out. I shall not be that petty, but, Maker, would it be nice.    I stayed in my tent until the soldiers filed in for assigning of duties. A dozen could come in at a time. Rylen stood next to me sounding roll call, double checking attendance and assignments. I stood at the desk, leaning on it for support as I looked over the roster.    Brennan—runner. Tanner—latrines. Landry—construction. Edwards—watch guard. And on and on it went. Once duties were assigned, there'd been a barrage of complaints: ‘I did that yesterday’. ‘He hasn't had latrine duty in weeks’. I'd listen until I snapped and barked at them all to get to their duties.   Rylen laughed and told them in a low voice—not so low I couldn't hear—they could spar for better assignments. He'd pair them off, instructing them to inform him of the winner and he'd readjust the roster. I'd scowl at him before the recruits left and then secretly place bets on who I thought would win the different matches.   We were walking the perimeter of the village, checking defenses, supplies, guard posts and progress on construction to see that all was in order. I glanced towards Rylen, he had his eyes on his board, writing notes, calculations, amounts and suggestions that I made as we went about. Soldiers were hollering at each other, snow lightly falling, and as I looked for her for the thousandth time, there was still no sign of Meira anywhere.

"Captain?" I questioned.

"Commander?" he responded, but didn't look up from his parchment.

"I fear I may have made a grave mistake in regards to M-Talitha," I began.

That got his attention, his blue eyes flicking to me. "What happened?" No jokes or laughs, but genuine concern.

"Well, I-we...Elizabeth came to me and apologized for her...behavior towards me," I looked at him again, "She said you told her about my...feelings towards Talitha?"

"I did, Cul," he nodded, "I didn't mean to betray your confidence, but she...didn't give me much of a choice."

"It's fine, Rylen," I rubbed the back of my neck, "I'm not sure there would have been anything else to deter her."

"She's a good woman, Cullen," Rylen defended, "She knows what and who she wants, but she doesn't want to hurt anybody. She cares deeply for people."

"I know, Rylen." I gave a curt nod, “That's the issue. We got to talking about M-Talitha, the Order, Seekers...all kinds of things. Morning had come before we knew it and...Minaeve walked in on us in a manner that may have appeared...intimate." I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Ye right dunderheid, Cul," Rylen groaned. Well, that's not a good sign.

"That bad?" I quirked a brow.

Rylen considered for a moment. "Possibly. Have ye found yer lass, yet? Talked to her?"

"I looked, but I was unable to find her. I spoke with Minaeve; she told me M-Talitha would find me when she was ready."

Rylen frowned, the movement pulling on his tattoos and scar as he mulled it over. "I wouldn't give up hope then, but I think it's best if ye give the lass the space she wants."

"I feared that would be your answer," I grumbled, putting my hands on my pommel.

Rylen put a hand on my shoulder, turning me to face him. "All I can say, Cullen," he began, his face serious, "Whatever the conversation with her brings, tell her how ye feel. Leave no room for doubt."

"Are you instructing me to kiss her again?" My cheeks flushed at the thought.

Rylen shook his head. "If it comes to that, ye need to ask her first. If she's worried ye’ve been foolin' around, she may not want ye to show her that kind of affection." I nodded, feeling dejected. "Bottom line, ye haven't been—never have. She just wants the truth and an assurance that she's the one ye want."

I met his eyes. "Thanks, Rylen." I cleared my throat. “Would you…would you be willing to do me a favor?”

We finished up our rounds as I discussed what I needed from him for the evening. Done, Rylen went off to see to the newest batch of recruits—organizing sleeping arrangements, getting armor and weapons for them. I went in search of Cassandra, wanting her advice on the current situation. I found her at the practice dummies, her face angry. "Lady Cassandra," I called.

  Her dark eyes found mine, her fury not abating, but increasing. I had a moment to be confused before she charged me, sword in her hands. I drew my own and cursed myself for leaving my shield in my tent.   Cassandra was a deadly opponent: swift, powerful and nearly ten years of experience on me. I knew that fire in her eyes too—she was going to go for the kill. Her first swing was quick as lightning, the clang of our swords meeting loud in my ears.   She quickly parried and swung again, her sword point aiming for my face. I smacked the flat of her blade with edge of my own, knocking the arc of her swing to the left. As I did, I leaned back, stepped to the right and swung my blade at her side. She jumped to her left while meeting my sword with her own, using my momentum to slide my blade down the length of hers.   She twisted her grip as she did and would have struck where my cuirass's protection ended, but I jumped back, just missing the tip of her sword. She stepped into my space and thrust. I parried and swung from above, but she leaned to her left as she met my swing.   In one fluid motion, she used my momentum to push my blade to her defended side as she swung her foot up and into my gut. I stumbled backwards and it took every bit of will I had to keep my sword up as she swung again. In another swift movement, she pushed against my sword as she ducked beneath the crossed blades, locked her pommel around my wrist and pressed her freed hand against my elbow, locking my sword arm straight out as I buckled. She disarmed me and placed the point of her blade at my throat.

"Maker's breath, Cassandra," I growled, "Were you trying to kill me?"

"If I was trying to kill you, you would be dead," Cassandra snorted.

"Then, what was that for?" I scowled as I straightened, my joints protesting. I looked around and was thankful there was nobody watching the Commander getting knocked down a peg.

"Do not be concerned, if there had been recruits watching, I would have let you win. You would have been bruised, but I would have let you win." Her dark eyes were still blazing, but not as angry. "You seem to have made an asinine mistake."

"If you're referring to the Trevelyan woman and I, I already know," I grumbled as I rolled out my shoulder on my sword arm.

Cassandra's eyes went wide. "You...you did sleep with her, then?"

"What? Of course not!" I hissed, "Andraste's..." I gritted my teeth before I swore in a way that would truly offend the Maker's bride and the Maker himself. "Honestly, does no one understand how I feel about M-Talitha?"

"If the female in question does not know herself, how do you expect the rest of us to?" Cassandra questioned as she sheathed her sword.

My eyes met hers. "What do you mean?" Then, the pieces clicked. Jader. "You spoke with her? Is that why you wanted to go with the soldiers to meet Leliana in Jader?"

"It was a private conversation," her lips pursed, but there was a slight blush in her cheeks even as she glared at me.

"Maker!" I swore as I shoved my sword into its sheath. "Why must everyone interfere in my private affairs?"

"I wasn't trying to interfere, I was trying to help," she countered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And what good did your help do?" I growled. Cassandra looked hurt. Sweet Maker, Rutherford. This woman believed in you when no one else did. "I...Forgive me, Cassandra, that was untoward. I appreciate that you were trying to help. The blame lies with me."

"Then fix it, Cullen," she scolded, her dark eyes narrowing.

"It would help if I could find the female in question," I sighed.

Cassandra chuckled. "I was just making sure you were aware of your mistake. Talitha will find you."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I groaned.

Cassandra merely snorted a laugh as she walked towards the blacksmith.

"Commander!" Lysette's voice called from behind me a moment later. I turned to find the young woman looking alarmed.

"What is it, Lysette?" I asked.

"It's one of the fledglings," she began. I gestured for her to walk with me as we headed towards their cabin. "They were testing out their magic. One lost control."

"What happened?"

"She injured herself and a few others, but now she's very upset. I fear something worse will happen unless someone calms her down. Sarah, Keran and I all tried, but to no avail." Lysette explained.

  I asked no more questions as we entered the cabin. The others were on one end of the cabin, protected by Sarah and Keran, who were doing their best to not make it plain that they were putting themselves between the frightened child and the others. The child in question sat in a corner at the other end of the cabin, hugging herself. The sight had a strong resemblance to Meira after finding her.    The girl peered at us as we entered, a single hazel eye visible between brown hair. I could see a burn on her leg where her robes had lifted. A few other children were cradling burned hands or arms.

"Sarah, Keran, Lysette," I spoke, calmly, "The weather is particularly nice at the moment, why don't you escort the children outside to play in the fresh air?" I looked to the group of children: fear and worry on their faces. I bent towards them and lowered my voice, forcing a smile. "Some fresh snow fell last night, why don't you little ones show the adults how to have a proper snowball fight?" All worries were forgotten as their eyes brightened at the idea of playing in the snow. Guilt bubbled in my chest. How many of these children have ever gotten to truly play before now?

Agreement and excitement swept through the children. Sarah and Keran took the hint, ushering the little ones out. Lysette stepped towards me and I heard the girl shuffle behind me. I kept my back to her as I spoke low to Lysette. "Get the injured ones looked after by Bethany. Return here if I am not to the healer's cabin in ten minutes." Lysette nodded. 

  I turned to the girl. She curled further in on herself. I held my hands up and lowered myself to her level. "Could you tell me where it hurts?" She made no move. I took a moment to look her over. A child. I thought of Meira's experience, how frightened she must have been. Was she frightened the next time she used her magic? Worried someone would hurt her because of it? Has this child had a similar experience?    I took a deep breath and willed my nerves to calm. Talk to her. Calm her down. "The first time you use your magic can be...exciting...and frightful, right?" She stayed still, but I sensed her mana calming. Keep going. I thought about the little ones that had been in my charge—both at Kinloch and Kirkwall. "I remember the little ones in the tower I where I was stationed. They'd always be so excited when they finally could summon it on their own. Some of them would get it right away and not be afraid. Others...others would remember when their magic first appeared and it would bring back...bad memories."   She seemed to perk up at that. Her mana quieting more. Good sign. "The bad memories would make them...afraid...and sometimes...sometimes they got hurt or hurt one of their friends." She uncurled a little. Working. "It is an accident when that happens. The Maker knows it is an accident. Magic is...tricky sometimes, but the Maker...blessed you with magic."    It is a gift from the Maker. You've just seen that gift betrayed. One of her eyes met mine. "When accidents happen, what do we do? Give up? No. When accidents happen we have to fix what we can and try again. We keep trying until we get it right." Need to take your own advice, Rutherford.    Both eyes were on me. "Same as when I was learning how to use a sword. I sometimes would get hurt or hurt somebody else and it made me afraid. But we can't let the fear of failing keep us from trying. Trying and practicing is what makes us better. When we're better, we don't hurt the ones we care about." Mana silent. She pointed a finger to her burn. Success.    "Would you like to meet, Bethany? She's a nice healer who will help the hurt go away." She nodded her head. I need to take her, but how do I get her to come with me? I thought of Rosalie. "Would you...would you like to sit on my shoulders so you can see the whole village while we walk to Bethany?" She nodded enthusiastically. Taking a deep breath, I turned my back to her. "Climb on up." I heard the scamper of feet on the floor before I felt her clamber up onto my shoulders. I grabbed onto her feet to keep her steady before ducking out the door. 

  We made the short distance to the healer's cabin. Lysette nodding as she spotted me. The girl giggled and waved at people we passed by; I ignored the stares and whispers. The mage-hater, carrying a fledgling on his shoulders? The scandal. I took a bit of satisfaction in that, a small smirk on my face.   I still feared magic. I'd seen magic at its worst, and knew full well what it could do to a person. I thought of Meira, of Bethany, of all the mages that had helped and joined the Inquisition. But I've seen it at its best as well. We ducked inside the cabin door and were greeted by a laugh and smile from Bethany. I praised the Maker that Solana was not there.

"Personally delivered by the Commander of the Inquisition?" Bethany gasped as she placed her hands on her hips, "You must be one special little girl." The child beamed. "Let's see what you've got, little one," Bethany chirped, a broad smile on her face as she sat the child on a stool. The girl pulled up her robes to show the burn. "Oh my, that is a nasty one. You are a special girl—so brave." The girl smiled even wider. "We'll get that feeling better straight away, then you can go join your friends in the snow." 

The girl nodded, excitedly. "Will you join us?"

Bethany gave her a soft smile as she healed her wound. "I'd be happy to." Bethany's eyes flicked to mine. "Just after I finish talking to the Commander, is that okay?" The girl nodded. "Alright, you're all patched up. Do you mind waiting outside while I talk with the Commander? Then, we can find your friends together." The girl ran out the door.

"Lysette was practically frantic," Bethany stated once the girl was gone, "What did you say to the girl to get her to calm down?"

"The truth," I muttered. Bethany quirked a brow. I looked away, a flush beginning in my cheeks. "Does it matter? It worked."

"You let her sit on your shoulders," Bethany probed, her eyes searching my face.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "What of it?"

"Cullen, you do care," she purred as a mischievous smile spread on her pretty face.

"Shove off, Bethany," I growled. 

She laughed. "You don't want to go making your healer mad, now do you?"

"I had assumed you already would be," I mumbled.

"Because of M-Talitha?" A dark brow quirked. I gave a curt nod. Of course she knows. Maker, does everyone know? "I'm not mad, Cullen, because I know you," she shrugged. I met her eyes and she offered a smile. "You just need to make sure you fix it."

"So, I've been told." I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. Andraste, preserve me. 

"No, Cullen," Bethany turned serious, "I mean it. You need to tell her how you feel in no uncertain terms."

I met her eyes again and swallowed hard. "W-what do you mean?"

She shifted on her feet. "You're at a point where you may have to...show her affection to get her to realize how you feel about her," she explained, her eyes searching mine.

"But...but you said," I stammered. Maker's breath. Touch her, don't touch her. Ask permission. Talk to her. Fix it. Andraste, give me strength.

"I still stand by what I said and I only advise doing so as a last resort." She twisted her fingers. "If you feel you must, you need to make sure she’s open to it first."

"Th-that's what Rylen advised," I mumbled, my face warming.

"Smart man," Bethany stated, "Despite all evidence to the contrary," she added under her breath. "Cullen?"

I looked at her once more. "Yes?"

"Be gentle," she advised, "And take it slow." I searched her face, but said nothing. "I fear she may want...more than she's ready for."

Kirkwall. Alrik. Would we ever be free of them? Would she? "I understand, Bethany."

"Good," was all she said before she walked out the door.

  I followed behind and leaned against the doorframe, trying to take the weight off my legs for a brief moment. Solas was outside he and Varric's cabin, making a tiny show of magelights for the child's enjoyment. He had a gentle smile on his face as he watched her awe.   The child spotted Bethany and raced back to take her hand. She practically dragged Bethany down the stairs as they ran, giggling together to where the others were tossing snow. I chuckled as I noticed more than just the mages were joining in. 

"A rather heartwarming sight, is it not, Commander?" Solas observed.

"Indeed," I agreed.

"If it’s not an impertinence to ask, have you perhaps seen the Herald?" the elf quirked a brow.

"I'm afraid I have not seen her since early this morning during a briefing," I crossed my arms over my chest, "Did you need her for something?"

His lips twitched before he responded. "She would want to know of the artifacts I found while on my travels. I also wish to speak with her about the strange skulls I came across. Neither are matters of immediate importance, but I'd rather bring them to her attention as soon as possible."

"I understand," I straightened, biting back a groan at the soreness in my calves, "If I see the Herald, I will let her know you were wanting to speak with her."

"Thank you, Cullen," the elf inclined his head before descending the stairs. He made his way to Varric, who was now among the crowd watching the snowball fight. The two greeted each other before laughing as snow flew.

  Where the Void is Meira? She'd love this. I'd even consider joining in if she did. Instead of joining, however, I continued with seeing to my duties. After checking on the perimeter, calibrating the finished trebuchets, speaking with the construction architects about building supplies and double-checking with Dennet about what he was running short on, I made my way back to my tent. The sun was beginning its descent, evening approaching.   As I came close to the training grounds, I spotted the Herald. Meira is supposed to be the Herald. I hurried my pace, ignoring the cramping in my legs as I did. She was speaking with Cassandra, so I stood a little ways off, observing as they talked.   Meira's stance was different as the Herald, more commanding. Her back straight, shoulders back, head held high. It was odd to see her hair in her sister's twisted fashion, painted with gold and her delicately pointed ears decorated with jewelry. Even more so to see most of her face tattooed with the white tree of…Mythal?    Her face was cool as she and Cassandra spoke, her gaze fierce and calculating. Her jade eyes suddenly flashed to me and I found myself standing straighter under her perusal. Meira looked back at Cassandra and dismissed herself before stalking towards me. And she was stalking—not her usual graceful gate, but a focused, near-predatory walk. I felt a flutter of nervousness in my gut as she refused to lower her gaze from mine.

"Commander," she barked as she got closer. She was in my personal space, so close I could see the flecks of silver in her eyes.

"Herald," I nodded.

"What have you done to my sister?" her voice was low and deadly as she asked.

"To Ellana?" I whispered. Maker, how many females am I going to upset today? "Nothing."

"I know you've done nothing to me, Commander," she hissed, "I meant, M-Talitha."

Sweet Maker. This is the Herald. "I-I apologize."

"She may hide it from the others, even from herself, but you've caused her to worry and it's taking everything I have not to...severely injure you," she snarled. 

"Cassandra already delivered an injury," I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest.

A flicker of smile. "Good." She paused a moment. "If I'm going to be completely honest with you, Commander, I would prefer she stay away from you." Her brow knitted. "It seems you've brought her nothing but pain."

Severe injury achieved, Herald. "I-I would agree with you."

That surprised her. "Did you do it intentionally this time?"

I looked away from her. "No."

"Then what are you doing?" she demanded.

I sighed. "Currently, I am waiting to actually be able to speak with her. I daresay I've spoken with every other soul in this blighted village except the person I most wish."

"Did you sleep with the Trevelyan woman?" she asked.

Andraste preserve me. "This is hardly—"

"Answer me, Commander," her tone left no room for argument and her eyes promised death if I refused.

I swallowed hard. "No, I did not sleep with Trevelyan. I would never hurt your sister that way."

"Then, are you hurting my sister because she's a mage?" Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Because she's an elf? Or, are both fetishes for you? Fantasies you wish to fulfill through her?"

"Sweet Maker," I choked out, "No! I-I," I shifted on my feet. This is ridiculous. "I have had my...issues with mages, but that would not be a reason for me to hurt her. As for her being an elf...I-I will admit the first time I saw her...she was the first elf I had ever seen before. Is it wrong for me to find her attractive because of her elven characteristics?"

"Not...wrong, but only if they're not the sole reason you're attracted to her," she crossed her arms again, her eyes narrowing, "I've met my fair share of sh-humans who simply wanted to know what 'it'd be like to bed an elf'."

"It is nothing like that," my face was burning from the flush pounding there, trying to ignore the recruits around us whose eyes kept flicking to where we stood, "I find her beautiful, but her...physical qualities are only a piece of it. Her...her…"

"Yes, Commander?"

Maker, have mercy. "Her mind, her soul, her heart—all of her is beautiful to me. She is intelligent, quick-witted and well learned. She cares deeply for others, has a quiet passion and a strength of will like no other I've ever met. Her faith in the Maker, her determination, her strength and valor with which she conducts herself; her courage in the face of fear—"

Ellana held up a hand, her face softening. "That's enough, Commander."

I felt the blush dipping into my chest. "Have I met your demands?"

Ellana smirked, her vallaslin twisting with the movement. "Solas did say it was easy to get you to admit how you feel about her. My, my Commander, you're not nearly as impregnable as you seem to believe. I wonder...is it my sister that brings that out in you? Or, are you far more sensitive than you want us to know? Is that why you always wear your armor?"

"Maker's breath," I swore as a hand went to the heat prickling in my neck. Ellana let out a chuckle causing me to scowl. "Are you going to cryptically tell me that she will find me when she's ready, now?"

"I suppose I don't need to since you've just done it for me," she tapped her finger on the trunk of her vallaslin. I groaned. "Patience, Commander." She flashed a wolfish smile before she brushed past me.

"Herald," I turned. She looked at me over her shoulder, a brow quirked. "Solas was searching for you earlier. He had a few findings he wanted to discuss with you."

She nodded. "Thank you, Commander, but I already spoke with him." She hesitated a moment and turned back to me, her eyes hard. "I may not completely approve of you, but I can tell you genuinely care for my sister. I would see you grow in your trust of mages and I will expect as much if you begin a romantic relationship with my sister. That being said...if you bring her to any further harm...if you break her heart," she stepped into my space again, her face becoming a mask promising death, "I will kill you."

I swallowed hard. I put a hand to my chest in a salute. "I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to care for her the way she deserves."

Her eyes searched mine. "I will hold you to that, Commander." At that, she turned and headed toward the inner village.

  I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Maker's breath, she is terrifying. I escaped into my tent before anyone else could threaten my life and sunk into the chair at my desk.   I began to fill out reports, respond to missives and updates from the various posts that had been established throughout Ferelden. I wrote out duty and guard rosters for the next several days. Once that was all finished, I felt as my stomach groaned loudly. Have I eaten at all today?    Meira still had not "found" me. I'd done all the busy work I could—double and even triple checking everything. I stretched in my chair, my joints aching as I did. My head pounding at the sudden rush of blood through my extremities.   I stood and had to grip the desk to keep from hitting the ground as my knees buckled. Andraste, preserve me. I took a moment to steady myself before straightening. I needed to eat or the weakness would only get worse.   I exited the tent, the sun beginning to set as I made my way to the tavern. I chuckled as the evidence of the snowball fight was plain and it had clearly spread nearly all over the village. Opening the door of the tavern, I was greeted by lots of laughter and recounting of the "epic" snowball fight of Haven.   Apparently, Bull and the Chargers had joined in and turned it into a battle that could rival true warfare in brutality and tactics. They'd setup cover and catapults—all the children had been pulled to their side to man the catapults.   The opponents had been the newly recruited elf, Sera, Warden Blackwall, and Varric. Solas had kept a tally of hits landed. Mages and templars had joined both sides, the Trevelyan siblings had been rivals and some off-duty recruits had joined to help in forming the projectiles. 

"You should have joined us, Cullen," Blackwall slapped my shoulder as I sat with the group, "We could have used your tactical mind." The Bull and the Chargers had won, though I suspected the others had let them win for the children's sake.

"Aye," Henry Trevelyan barked in agreement before he took a drink from his tankard. "Perhaps then we could have given them a proper thrashing."

"You're just upset your sister beat you, Henry," Elizabeth gloated.

"I apologize for my absence. It sounds like a battle I should have witnessed," I stated, dryly.

"We'll have to honor the fallen," Bull nodded grimly, his single eye closing, "They put up a good fight and deserve to be respected."

"You said it, Chief," Krem shouted over the boisterous singing of the Chargers, "Drinks on The Iron Bull in honor of the loosing side!"

"Come on, Krem!" Bull groaned, "You've already bled me dry keeping your cup full!"

"To the Iron Bull!" The tavern erupted in shouts of thanks.

  My head began to pound in earnest at the noise and lack of food. I made my way to Flissa. Dinner was thankfully quick and I asked Flissa for a tray. I could not handle the rowdiness this evening.   I could feel the exhaustion, the thirst, the pain of withdrawal and the stress of worrying about Meira all beginning to overwhelm me. I excused myself from invitations to stay, citing my need to finish reports. The others were too distracted to pressure me further.   I made my way back to my tent, glad for the silence. I removed my armor, but kept my leather doublet and fur-trimmed surcoat on as I ate slowly. I pulled out a few of Mia's letters and began reading.   I'd made it through the early letters from Kirkwall. The anger with which Mia usually wrote tore at me, but I understood it. I hoped one day I could explain why her "stupid brother" couldn't write back—not like she wanted. That she had been writing to a man that didn't exist anymore at the time. I thought of the mage girl I had carried. I still struggled with the anger, the fear, but...

"Cullen?" Elizabeth's voice spoke from the opening of my tent.

I looked up and couldn't stop the scowl that formed on my face. "Yes?"

She blushed, but thankfully did not come any closer. "Rylen told me that I may have gotten you into some trouble."

"Perhaps," I offered. 

"I'm very sorry, Cullen," she apologized, taking a few steps inside, "Is there anything I can do?"

"I—" I began.

"Am I interrupting something?" Meira's voice spoke.

  I nearly gave myself whiplash at the speed with which I jerked my head in her direction. I had opened my mouth to speak, but the words died in my throat. Maker, but you're beautiful, Meira.       She was not the Herald, but Talitha. Talitha out of armor and instead in plain clothing. Though they were anything but plain.   She wore a silk blouse with voluminous sleeves that cuffed at her wrists. The blouse's collar opened to expose some of her collarbone as it fell from her shoulders into a short "v" shape to meet the lambswool skirt cinched at her slender ribcage. The fabrics hugged her hourglass frame wonderfully.   My throat went dry as I couldn't stop my gaze from following the curves of her comely figure; down and up to her swanlike neck. Her now white-blonde hair was piled atop her head in an elegant updo, with a few pieces framing her face. Her lovely ears were on full display, and I followed the long points as soft tendrils of hair curled around them. She now had a few piercings herself, two in each lobe. I remembered she’d had the same in the tower. Simple small hoops.   Finally, I met her eyes which were watching me; I studied her face...Blessed Andraste. Her beautiful eyes were intense as she had them ringed in kohl. I swallowed thickly again. Her graceful cheekbones were dusted with blush and her full lips had been glossed. Heat lanced down my spine as I gazed at those lips far longer than was appropriate, feeling as it pooled in my now tightened gut.   I noticed she held a cloak between her hands—made of lambswool and trimmed in silver fur—I focused on the cloak; clearing my throat and willing my mind to focus before meeting her eyes once more. Sweet Andraste. As if I were my younger self at Kinloch Hold seeing her for the first time again, I sat enraptured by her beauty.   After a moment, I remembered she'd spoken to me, that Elizabeth was still there and I hadn't said anything. I stood, nearly tripping on my desk as I made to step closer to Meira, saving my pride by placing a hand on the top of it. "No-not at all," I stammered, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat. "Was there something you needed?"

"I was hoping we could talk," she glanced at Elizabeth before meeting my eyes again. Her eyes and voice were cold. "Alone."

Elizabeth looked between us. I kept my eyes on Meira, heat rising in my face. Alone. "Alone?" my voice cracked again, "I-I mean of course." I looked to Elizabeth, "If you'd excuse us."

  The woman nodded and headed out the tent. She paused to look at Meira, but Meira's face was cold as stone. I'd never seen it so devoid of warmth—not even when she was Tranquil; it was unsettling. Elizabeth cleared her throat and ducked out the tent opening.   Meira and I stood there for a moment, neither of us sure of what to say. My hand went to an itch at my ear. In the silence, I swore my heart could be heard as it began pounding nervously in my chest.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" she finally asked, her voice still cold. She was twisting her fingers beneath the cloak. 

"I would." I nodded as I moved to hold the tent flap open for her. I flinched internally as she stepped away from me, ensuring we did not touch accidentally. She ducked out, swinging the cloak around her shoulders and clasping it in place. The clasp was gold and fashioned to look like the Inquisition's symbol. I offered my arm, but she didn't take it. I swallowed. Maker, Rutherford, you've really done it now. 

  We made our way to the lake and walked slowly along its curve. The last time we'd walked by the lake, she'd still been Tranquil and I'd been desperate for a miracle from the Maker to undo what I had done.   So much had happened since then. Now she stood beside me, whole and beautiful. But something was wrong. Was it anger? Disappointment? Worry? She'd wanted to talk, but still she said nothing.   The evening was beautiful: the moons full and bright, the cold not bitter, no wind cutting down to the bone. We passed by yet another torch, marking an half-mile we had walked in silence. I was beginning to panic. My stomach tying in knots; nausea rolling in my gut that had nothing to do with the thirst for lyrium. If this silence doesn't end soon, I'll go mad. Why has she not said anything? Maybe...maybe she wants me to speak first?   I made the mistake of looking at her, completely stunning in the light of the moons. Her hair looked like spun moonlight, her face positively glowing, her eyes luminous and catching the light like a cat’s in the darkness. The fur of her cloak made her look regal. Heat prickled in my neck and I tried to rub it out with a hand.   "It's a nice night for an evening," I blurted out. What? Sweet Maker!

"What?" she stopped mid-step and faced me. Utter confusion on her face, breaking the cold mask.

I dragged the hand down from my neck, forcing it to my side. "It's...there was something you wished to discuss?" I met her eyes again. Andraste, preserve me. Get ahold of yourself, you’re acting like a lovesick boy again.

"Certainly not the weather," she scolded, her voice and eyes cooling once more.

"I assumed that much," I replied. I looked at her, expectant. She’s upset. Tear my heart out if you must, Meira. I deserve no less.

"Before I...," she began, looking away, "I need to ask you a few questions and I need you to be honest with me." She met my eyes. "I mean, I know you will be honest, but...I don't want you to...soften your answers for me."

I quirked a brow, straightening. "Alright."

"Did you sleep with Elizabeth Trevelyan?" As she asked the question, the fierceness in her eyes wavered.

  My insides hollowed out as my knees felt weak. She thinks I did. No, she worries I did. She doesn't want to believe it. But it matters to her and that means...     "Meira," I breathed. Maker. My heart was beating so wildly, I thought it would come out of my chest. Collecting myself, I asked, "Why do you think I did?" I knew, but I wanted her to tell me.

Her eyes were nearly silver in the dim light as they glowed, lessening as we neared a torch. "Please, do not be angry with her, but Minaeve told me she witnessed you and Elizabeth looking...intimate together. She told me because she was...worried for me."

"She is a good friend to you," I smiled, but it quickly fell as Meira remained guarded. Maker, hear my cry. "Forgive me, I...did not even think about how it would appear. Elizabeth came to me in confidence; we started talking about...you, among other things. Specifically, the day they came to your aid and then about the Order and Seekers. She and I came to an understanding in regards to her…esteem and parted as friends—nothing more."

Meira opened her mouth to speak. Closed it, swallowed hard and met my eyes before she spoke again. "I would...understand if you did. Want to be with her, I mean."

"Why is that?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"She's...not a mage," she murmured as she looked away.

Have I really made her feel as if that would be an issue?  "I am not bound by the Order any longer, Meira."

Her eyes found mine again, her brows furrowing. "I know, but you've seen the worst mages have to offer. After what you've been through...could you—how could you not see that in me?"

  "I don't," I assured, "I have seen the worst, yes, but I have seen the best mages have to offer as well. Not just in you, but in all the mages that have joined the Inquisition. Even before that, in Kirkwall: those who stood against blood magic, who tried to curb the fighting. At Kinloch Hold: those who protected the vulnerable, who stood against Uldred, who fought. If I have given you reason to doubt...,"   Of course I have. Between what she witnessed happening at the hands of the demon, my wanting to go after the templars, reading Varric's book, and everything I have told her—and not told her—why would she not doubt? Not only that I could care for her beyond friendship, but that her being a mage was what could be holding me back?   "Of course I have," I murmured and rubbed the back of my neck. She looked away from me, but said nothing.   I thought back to that night in the rectory when I had helped her clean. As I studied her while she scrubbed the stones, Meira had looked so guarded, but wanted me to talk to her, to stay. Her eyes had gone wide as I begged her not to see me—or herself—as a monster. As I confessed that I believed magic to be blessing from the Maker.   The look she had given me…I’d wondered how many times she had been called a monster in her life. For it had been as if…as if I’d bestowed some unexpected kindness upon her. Had touched at some deep thing without even realizing it.   What a fool I was then. What a fool I still am. Of course it had touched at something deep. Was that not the oldest of burdens placed upon mages by the world, by the Chantry, by the Order? That they were monsters? For what they were capable of doing and for what a group of them—what a nation ruled by mages—had done to the world? She was no fool. But I…I had given her hope in that moment. And then…Uldred. I broke her heart. Kirkwall. Alrik broke her spirit. And what I had said—what Varric recorded—would only serve to reinforce the scars of both. Unless…   We're at that moment in the refectory once more and she's wanting to know if I still believe it’s a blessing, that she isn't a monster. That I am not a monster. I thought of the child that had been so frightened earlier; it had been as if I were talking to myself, reminding myself of the beliefs I once held. And I had been fearful for her, not of her.   Could I believe that again? Do I? I looked into Meira's eyes, thought of her using her magic around me as we sparred or she healed others, I had not felt that dread, cold sweat or nausea as I once had. I'd even let her use her magic on me as she healed my wound up on the mountaintop. I thought of when she'd confessed that she'd given into possession, her face filled with such regret and I had not been afraid. Can I let go of the past?   I spoke my next words softly and with full sincerity, "Whatever I fear of magic, I see none of that in you."

Her eyes found mine again. "How?" she implored, her dark brows furrowing, "Is that not...twisted in some way?"

  ‘I want you to be honest with me’. I took a deep breath. She still didn't know everything and I prayed to the Maker she never would, but I would be as honest as I could. "I was...scarred by magic, both literally and figuratively, Meira. I will forever hold a reverent fear of it because of that. Does that mean that I may never trust you? Care for you? I hope you do not think so little of me as that," I voiced, but she was not convinced.   Frustration lined her features—wether at me or the circumstances of our lives, I did not know—frustration I shared. Why could this not be simple? I racked my mind for a way to explain.    Lyrium. I could tell her about it. All of it. The addiction. The compulsion. The withdrawals. But I wasn’t ready, so I thought of a comparison—for both it and magic.   “What if I was...infected with the Blight? You knew it could claim my life at any moment, could twist me into a monster—would you not fear it? Would the possibility keep you from caring for me?" I asked.

She thought a moment. "Well, no," she admitted, "But that's not the same. Magic is not an infection, I was born with it."

"It may not be exactly the same, but you must see the parallel?" I quirked a brow. "I could have very easily been infected with the taint as a templar during the Blight—if you remember, some of the templars and mages had to go to Denerim to assist the Warden. Greagoir…kept me from going, believed I’d been through enough. I wanted to go with the others, but he refused. But those who did…the tales were horrific. If I had gone…If I had been infected, it would've been a price I had to pay for doing my duty—not born with it, but still a burden placed on me. A price I did not wholly ask for, would have no control over the effects and would know that one day it could —it would—claim my life?" Too close to the truth. I felt the thirst lick its way up my throat, but I swallowed it down. 

Her eyes narrowed as she studied my face. "What are you saying?"

"How is that not any different than the possibility of possession for mages?" I asked, deflecting her question, "Your magic is a gift—a blessing—but a gift that comes with a price. You did not ask for it, you do not have control over the demons that may plague you and one day you could fall victim to possession. It's not a guarantee; you are not without control over your own will and it may never happen...but it could. But I know something must change. As I said before, I have never stated that mages are inherently evil. You possess abilities mundane people do not. Does acknowledging that fact render me unable to care for you? To have feelings for you?"

"So, if I were possessed by a demon, would you...?" Her eyes pierced me.

No, Meira, please. "Please, don't ask me this," I pleaded, closing my eyes to block out the image of the demon putting on Meira's face. To block out the images of Meira being possessed and I being forced to kill her. Of Meira as an abomination eviscerating me because I refused to kill her.   I heard the sobs, then—my sobs—felt that magical cage around me as my mind frayed, losing my grip on what was true and what was the demons' illusions, what was the blood mages’ corruption. My terrified voice begging for death.   You made it out. You're free, you lead the Inquisition's forces; you're with Meira, who's whole and safe. You are safe.    The thirst turned to hunger that seized my insides and my hands shook with want for lyrium. I placed my hands on my sword pommel. It was becoming harder and harder to keep the darker memories at bay as the lyrium haze subsided more and more.   Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder.

"I think I know the answer," her eyes turned cold once more.

No, Meira, you don't. I couldn't—I can't. "I don't think you do," I argued, my voice shaky, "It's not that simple and I...," I let out a breath, "I would rather not think of it."

"I understand that you don't want to think about it," she argued. She looks so like her sister right now—so fierce and commanding. "But, Cullen, I need to know."

I searched her face. "I would do everything in my power to not let you succumb to that fate." I straightened my back and clenched my jaw. "But I trust you would do everything in your power to never let that fate come to pass."

A ghost of a smile. "I would," her eyes bored into mine, "And I hope you can find that care and trust with all mages—except those that prove themselves malicious—not just me." 

Well played, Meira. An elegant trap if I ever saw one. Despite myself, I smirked. "I am trying, Meira." My smirk fell and I crossed my arms over my chest as I looked away from her. "You know what happened at the tower. I was...not myself after that. I was angry. For years that anger blinded me." I scowled before turning back to her. "I'm not proud of the man that made me. Now, I hope I can put some distance between me and everything that's happened." I looked back out across the lake. "It's a start."

"For what it's worth, I like who you are now." I whipped my head back to Meira. Color began to bloom in her cheeks as her face softened.

"Even after…?" Everything? I asked, hardly believing she could.

“Cullen, I have always cared for you. You’ve done nothing to change that.” Something warm and soft tugged at my heart at that. She looked away before meeting my eyes again. "But, what I really wanted to say is," she began, her voice nervous, "I-I find myself… thinking of you..." My heart stuttered. She paused and opened her mouth to try again, her blush deepening, "I care for you, and..." She let out a defeated sigh, looking dejected. Is this really happening?

"What's wrong?" I asked, my heart hammering against my chest.

She looked at me, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. "Could you think of me—could you care for me as...” She stepped closer, a light hand on my forearm. “What am I to you, Cullen?" 

  I could've sworn my heart stopped. Did...did she really just ask me that? Her eyes were earnest, but her face and the rigidity of her back told me she...still feared the answer. What have you done, you complete and total fool, Rutherford? You should've tossed Trevelyan out into the cold the moment you'd said your piece.

  I swallowed hard, my mouth going dry. "I swear to the Maker that I did not sleep with Elizabeth."   Her eyes closed as she let out a breath, her lovely lips parting as she did so. Maker, do I want to kiss her. Instead of a kiss, I offered an apology.   "Forgive me, if I caused you to worry, but Meira," I murmured, waiting for her to look at me. My heart stuttered and my gut felt like it was in my throat when she opened her eyes. "I-I have never...that is, Maker's breath—" I stammered, my face burning. Tell her. "I have never been with anyone...that way."

She blinked a few times, surprise coloring her face. She hesitated a moment before asking, "You've...never?" I shook my head, my heart thundering in my chest. I'm going to die before I can tell her. "May I ask why?"

I swallowed. Because you're the only one I want to be with. Because I've loved you since the first time I spoke to you. Instead I asked, "Why did you never accept offers of intimacy in the tower?" I shifted on my feet, heat rising in my face, "The mages of Kinloch were not exactly...chaste."

She withdrew a little at my question. Maker, Rutherford. Meira hesitated a moment and then met my eyes again. "While they may not have been, I believed that sex should be more than recreational and saved for the person you love." She looked away, color blooming in her face. "Maybe even for the person you marry."

Maker, I love her. She is my match in every way. "I feel the same, Meira. That is why I have never been with anyone else." I had to swallow. I was going to say because I love you, but I lost my nerve. Instead I said, "But also because…I never dreamed I’d have the opportunity to have…love or a family of my own. I wanted to be knight. To serve. I’d given up dreams of anything else in my want to serve the Maker.”   And that was what the demon had used, the blood mages had dug out of me. That want for a life—a life full of love, children, working a land that was mind, the one I’d sacrificed—a want I toyed with when I’d allowed myself, but always put away remembering the path I’d chosen and had chosen gladly.   But they’d ravaged it. Turned it into something ugly and foul. Until I let go of any desire or hope for anything. Until only duty remained. So much so I’d been willing to plunge my blade into the elf before me to end the demon; had called for the Hero to kill her and all the remaining mages.   Could I allow myself to want again? Do I have a choice? Since I’d first seen her here in Haven, that love had returned with a vengeance. I’d forsaken it, closed myself off from anything beyond my duty. Family, love, friends.   But now? Meira looked down at my words, frowning and dejected. No, I could not let her go again. Could not let the possibilities slip through my fingers. Hesitantly, I tipped her chin up. “But though I still wish to serve the Maker, I am no longer a templar.” She met my eyes. I cupped her cheek. “And I do...think of you, I mean. And what I might say..." Spit it out, man.

"What's stopping you?" she cocked her head, her eyes brightening.

"You," I dropped my gaze and lowered my hand, looking out towards the lake, "You haven't always seen me in the best light. You ask if I can trust you—care for you— because you're a mage, but can you trust me? I have hurt you, Meira. Brought you to harm through my mistakes. Made you doubt me because of my...history with mages. Made you think I could have been with another when you were right there." I found her eyes again, but they were sad.

"I do trust you, Cullen," she assured, her gaze flicking between mine, my heart quaking, "But I understand if...you can only think of me as a friend. After all we've been through...after—because of how damaged I am," she murmured, her voice breaking as she looked away. 

  Oh, Meira. My heart ached at those words. Brought you to harm from my mistakes—Maker, Rutherford. I took her hands in mine, before pulling her to my chest. To the Void with it. I wrapped her in my arms, rubbing soothing circles on her back.   "Meira," I commanded as I leaned away from her. Her eyes met mine and, keeping my movements slow, I cupped her face in my hands.   "'What the Maker has created, no one can tear asunder'. I...have been damaged too, but...the Maker has a purpose for our pain," her eyes widened at my words. I swallowed hard.   "Meira, you... you are...," Beautiful. So beautiful. "I-I..." I love you. I began to lean towards her.

"Yes?" her eyes searched mine expectantly.

"I-I would very much like to...kiss you," I whispered, my heart hammering madly, "May I?"

She hesitated a moment and then looked up at me through her lashes. "I would very much like for you to kiss me."

"Oh? Good," I murmured, a smirk pulling my mouth as my heart pounded in my throat.   Her lips were even lovelier than I could've dreamt. Unsure, but, Maker, so soft. At first, I did not move. Just pressed my lips tenderly to hers. When she did not pull away, instead her fingers curling into my clothes, I slowly and softly took my time to memorize the exact shape and feel of her mouth against mine as I kissed her soundly.   Hesitantly, her hands trailed up my chest, along my neck and into my hair. Her touch left heat melting into my skin in its wake. Gently, I pressed her against me, splaying my hands across the graceful curve of her back.   I couldn't discern how long we stayed like that, kissing, holding each other. No longer just friends, but sweethearts. A moment and an eternity in one until we finally broke apart, gasping for air. Not long enough.    We both had smiles plastered on our faces. I reached out to curve an errant curl over her ear, as I did she took my wrist in her hands, leaning her cheek into my palm. I stared at her; my heart full of warmth, happiness and love for her, as I caressed her cheek with my thumb.

"So, that's what I've been waiting nearly twelve years for?" she asked aloud as her eyes opened, her lips twitching.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, worried it had been a disappointment, "That was...um...really nice." Nice? Sweet blood of Andraste, man!

"I believe that was a kiss," she smirked, looking at me through her lashes, "But I...can't be sure...it's all a blur."

I threw my head back and laughed, loud and boisterous. Harder than I had in years. "Yes, well..." I trailed off as I leaned in to kiss her again.

  We worked our way back to my tent, both of us too content to speak, stopping now and again to share another gentle kiss. She’d slipped her hand in mine, as we walked, her delicate hands feeling as if they’d been made to fit mine—no matter how much larger they were. I’d lifted her hand to my lips as she did so, kissing the back of it.   Once inside my tent, she removed her cloak and I removed my surcoat. I looked at Meira. I could hardly believe we'd finally made it here. We’d spoken our mutual affection. We'd kissed.   She looked so beautiful in the candlelight, the soft smile on her face, bloom of color in her cheeks, sparkle of happiness in her eyes—that I seemed to have something to do with. She met my gaze and my stomach flipped while my heart restarted.

I closed the gap between us, taking her in my arms. "I am sorry again, that I made you worry."

Her eyes found mine, she having to tilt back a little to do so, "I accept your apology, Cullen, on one condition." I could see she was fighting a smile.

"What might that be?" I asked, quirking a brow as I smirked at her.

"No more females in your tent in the late hours," she began, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "Unless it’s me."

  Heat seared through me, causing the skin on my neck to prickle. I rubbed a hand over it, "Maker's breath." I listened to her laugh, her smile broad and carefree—the first I had seen it like that since she'd been freed of the Rite. I placed my hands on her hips and pulled her to me, tipping her chin with my fingers. Her laughing stopped as she went wide-eyed.   "And what, pray tell, would you suggest we do in the late hours of the night?"

  She fought another smile before reaching for something on the desk. "Would this suffice?" Confused, she succeeded in breaking my focus to get me to look at the box. I released her so she could open it for me to peruse the contents.   "I may have conscripted Cassandra to sneak it in here while we were gone." 

  It wasn't a box, but a container for a chessboard made to be compact and taken on travels. Gingerly, I took it from her and turned to set it on the desk. It was of fine craftsmanship; the pieces made of ebony and bone nestled within velvet.   The board was composed of marble and mahogany; the hinges, lock and key were made of smooth metal. I hardly knew what to say as I looked at her gift. I had never owned anything so fine.   Meira took my arm in her hands as she leaned her head against my bicep. I looked down at her. She wasn't looking at me, her lashes grazing her cheekbones, a soft smile on her lips and blush on her cheeks.

"Happy Birthday, Cullen," she murmured. 

I was stunned. She remembered? "Meira," I murmured.

"I know it's late and you don't like celebrating it, but...I thought this one might be...worth celebrating?" She glanced up at me from beneath her lashes, then straightened. "Oh!" She leaned across the desk to drag a couple items to her. "A few more presents," she beamed.

  She handed me a book, an overview of Fereldan history—including the history of mabari—wrapped in a supple leather cover and stamped with a gold-leafed mabari. Then, she handed me a large roll of parchment. I laid it upon the desk and unrolled it after she had lifted the chess set out of the way.   It was a recent map of Ferelden. Beautifully illustrated and cataloged by someone who seemed to have actually been to Ferelden. My eyes found the spot where Kinloch Hold would be first, but traveled down to Honnleath.    I will take her there, I want her to see it. Then, I looked to South Reach. Mia, Branson, Rosalie—I want her to meet them; want them to meet her. My eyes began to fog over as I allowed myself to think of the future. Did I really have a chance at one? With her? Was this really happening?

"Cullen?" she murmured, her voice questioning.

  I turned, probably too fast, but I took her face in my hands and crashed my lips against hers. Pouring everything into it. When she didn’t pull away, I put my hands on her hips and gently placed her between me and the desk as I crushed her against me. My hands traveled past her hips where I lifted her and sat her on the desk.   I took her face in my hands again, turning it so I could slant my mouth over hers for better purchase. Her hands worked their way into my hair, her nails scraping my scalp as they settled at the base of my neck. I moaned at the sensation. I couldn't help it, but I felt her stiffen.

  I pulled away, knowing I'd done something wrong. Be gentle and take it slow. I'd pushed too hard, too fast. I caressed her cheeks with my thumbs.   "I'm sorry. What's wrong?" She had her eyes shut tight and her breathing was ragged as she went a little pale. I could feel her mana slipping out of her control and she wrenching it back.   "Meira! Please, tell me what's wrong!" Maker, Rutherford. You finally get somewhere and then you had to ruin it.

"I'll be alright," she murmured, "Just...just give me a moment." She still wrestled for control, but she was winning.

"Maker," I swore, adamantly, and dropped my hands to her shoulders, "I've...I've already messed this up, haven't I?"

  My swear seemed to shake her out of her struggle, her mana quieting once more.   "No!" she assured, taking my face in her hands, her large eyes earnest before she looked away. Maker, she's so beautiful.   "It's not you," she murmured, her eyes still not meeting mine, "That was...that was wonderful. I just...," she took a deep breath and met my eyes, "Is it alright if we take our time?"

  I blinked. Did she think I was wanting to...? Heat burned in my face. I suppose I did come across a little...starved. But I thanked the Maker that I did not flinch at it, as I had flinched at being touched for a time following that cage.   I took her hands in mine and stood her from the desk. I stooped to pull her into an embrace, her arms wrapping around my neck as I cupped the back of her head. Floral and citrus.  "Meira, we will go at whatever pace you decide."

  She put a hand on my cheek as I let go and straightened, "Thank you." She smiled at me before cupping the back of my neck and pulling me down to meet my lips in a gentle kiss.   "How about we break in your new present?" she asked after she broke away, a brow quirked as she held up the chessboard I hadn't seen her grab.

"Oh, yes, you brought it upon yourself," she gave me an impish grin, "She and I were practicing fire magic together. Fire is my element, but Meira was wanting to learn more about using it."

"And I thought my friend would be more than willing to teach me," I growled.

Solana looked affronted. "Of course I was more than willing, but like any good teacher, I had to let you learn a few lessons."

"How silly of me," I scoffed as I rolled my eyes.

Solana looked to Ellana, "You see, fire is the element of emotion—passion, love, anger; ice is the element of thought. Not that emotion doesn't influence ice, but...it’s different."

"Ice is emotion that affects the mind; fire is emotion that affects the heart," Ellana nodded, "Of course, the mage who uses ice isn't emotionless, but they tend to keep their emotions hidden. Whereas, those who use fire tend to feel their emotions too strongly to keep them hidden. Lightning is the element of chaos, and those who tend to be able to control it have an extraordinary amount of willpower and control, but are unpredictable as people. Spirit magic—healing magic—is the element of the soul; it stems from a person's desire to help, to heal, to correct and to protect. In a sense, spirit magic is all the other elements converging. A person's heart for the wounded or those they wish to protect, knowledge to heal and will to correct the chaos that has been rendered upon the body. A mage can and usually does wield all four, but typically only one element is "theirs". From those four elements—or “schools”— stems every other form of magic. From the foundation, it depends on the mage's ability to will their mana how they wish. At least, that's how the Keeper explained it."

"That is a very summarized version," Solana chuckled which made Ellana shrug, "But yes, that is mostly correct. A mage's element tends to tell more about them as a person than they may realize. Elements can also change, reflecting a change within the mage themselves."

"Or sometimes your mana cannot seem to decide and you end up spontaneously combusting in the middle of lessons," I groaned. "Causing the templars to grab a bucket whenever you walked by because they feared you were going to suddenly be on fire."

Solana laughed, covering her mouth as she did to avoid food spilling out. "It was hilarious."

"What happened?" Ellana asked, her attention rapt as her eyes flicked between us.

"My dear friend could use ice and fire with almost equal skill, but not equal control," Solana began, taking a sip of her coffee, "We met in the library after lessons, so I could give her some guidance."

"Let's just say Solana doesn't possess much patience," I teased to Solana sticking her tongue out, "You'll have to forgive her for the next part."

" I may have grown impatient with her questions as to how I wielded fire so well," she continued, "So...I started calling her 'knife-ear'. You see, she'd been vilified constantly by some of the others for being an elf. We didn't have many at Kinloch, but just enough to draw the attention of the malicious."

"Why would you call her that?" Ellana questioned, her lips pursed.

"She refused to stand up for herself to them," Solana glared at me, "She would just sit and take it. Let them shove her around, pull on her hair, her ears, slap her or spit on her. I would burn with rage, but she wouldn't react nor would she let me. I didn't believe it was because she didn't want to, but because she was too kind to hurt others. I promised myself that I would push her until she snapped."

"Oh, that's a lovely way of putting it, Solana," I grumbled, crossing my arms, "I did not 'snap'."

Solana flashed another wicked grin. "Oh, yes you did."

"What did she do?" Ellana asked, a smile tugging her mouth.

"I kept calling her names and I could see it—could sense it. That rage boiling just under the surface," she explained, "She was fighting herself, worried she'd hurt me. Then, I realized the problem—your sister was afraid of fire. That's why she chose ice. The thing most mages don't realize is that ice can burn just as badly as fire. It is equally destructive, equally painful and equally powerful; it’s just easier to control."

"Why were you afraid of fire?" Ellana asked me, her jade eyes studying me.

I looked away, memories cropping up. "I had been using fire when I was caught by the people that threw stones."

"She'd connected fire to pain," Solana observed, flicking her braid over her shoulder, "I understood; I had feared the element at first until I realized I could control who it hurt...and who it didn't. Cullen came waltzing into the library, no doubt looking for her. I started hounding her about her feelings for him. He saw us and began walking towards us, puppy eyes on her."

"Needless to say, I started panicking," I sighed, "I was already enraged that my friend was calling me derogatory terms—I didn't realize she was riling me up on purpose. Then, she started teasing me about my infatuation with a certain templar...loudly."

"In her panic and rage she reached her breaking point and exploded," Solana chuckled.

"That sounds far more...flattering than what happened," I rolled my eyes, "I caught myself on fire."

"Your sister ran at me and started throwing fireballs,” Solana described, her hands waving in the air to mimic how I’d been moving, “I let her throw a few at me before snuffing the fire out. She would've burnt herself and everything around her if I let her burn too long."

"So, there I was, panting, glaring at Solana until I realized how quiet it had gotten," I put a hand over my face, "The commotion had drawn everyone in the tower."

"Why was this embarrassing?" Ellana probed, her face confused. Sweet Maker.

"She was standing in front of everyone naked as the day she was born," Solana cackled, "Including her beau. I stopped her from hurting herself, but I never said I stopped her from embarrassing herself." Solana was cradling her stomach, tears streaming down her cheeks. "He was so red in the face, his mouth just hanging open until he realized Greagoir was standing next to him. I'm surprised his spine didn't snap with the force of his salute. I strode forward, slung an arm around her shoulders—she was in the middle of trying her best to cover herself up and I couldn’t decide whose face was redder, hers or Cullen’s—and I beamed at Greagoir and Cullen," Solana flashed a grin, "I said, 'Well, Ser Cullen, I think it’s safe to say that you can stop grabbing buckets now. She won't want to be naked in front of you ever again'."

"The look Greagoir gave Cullen...I thought Cullen was going to die right then and there," I buried my face in my hands. "At that, Solana caused her fire to wrap around me to cover up my nakedness."

"What about the people who had been calling you 'knife-ear'?" Ellana questioned after laughing heartily.

"Yes, what about them Solana?" I quirked a brow.

"They thought the 'knife-ear' was completely insane after that outburst," Solana laughed some more,  "The half-crazed yelling at me—her friend—throwing fireballs in full view of the templars and the Knight-Commander, and then getting so consumed by the rage she burned her clothes off..." Solana was lost in a laughing fit again. "You should have seen their faces!"

"Needless to say, no one bothered me again. Nor did I have any issues with spontaneously combusting after that; any time I felt the fire building, I'd picture myself stark naked in front of everyone and it would instantly cool," I chuckled, "And we were stuck on floor cleaning duty for a month after Solana explained everything to Greagoir and Irving."

"That sounds like a beautiful friendship," Ellana smiled softly before turning to Solana. "Thank you for looking after her."

"Of course," Solana nodded, "Your sister is a beautiful person and a wonderful friend."

I blushed deeply. "I do not deserve such praise."

Solana looked at me hard, "Yes, you do. You were there for me when so many others weren't; you were nearly killed for helping Jowan in the name of friendship; despite my feelings for him, you went after Cullen to try and help him because you were his friend." I looked away from her. "Now, you're taking your sister's place, knowing full well it may get you killed, because you love her. If that is not beauty and loyalty, what is?"

"Solana," I murmured.

"I abandoned you," she began, "I abandoned you to go after my family. If I had stayed, I...I would've gone with you to Kirkwall. Maybe if I had...maybe—"

I snapped my head up. "Maybe nothing, Sol. You would have ended up in the same position as I did. You had to go. Nothing and no one could've prevented what happened."

"Not even your Maker?" Ellana asked, quietly. I looked to her in surprise. There was rage simmering in her eyes.

"You blame the Maker for what happened to me?" I questioned, calmly.

"Do you not?" she retorted.

I shook my head. "No."

"Why?" she pleaded.

  "Forgive me, sister, as I am not trying to preach to you, but I will speak some of the Chant to explain," I warned, "’All men are the Work of our Maker's Hands, from the lowest slaves to the highest kings. Those who bring harm without provocation to the least of His children are hated and accursed by the Maker. Those who bear false witness and work to deceive others, know this: there is but one Truth. All things are known to our Maker and He shall judge their lies. All things in this world are finite. What one man gains, another has lost. Those who steal from their brothers and sisters do harm to their livelihood and to their peace of mind. Our Maker sees this with a heavy heart’.   "He knows what I suffered, but He did not cause it to happen. We have the freedom to make our choices. Alrik chose to harm me, to deceive others and to steal from me. He will have to answer to the Maker for his actions. The Maker witnessed my suffering and grieved for me—'Within my creation, none are alone'. 'Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you'.   “I found my peace and hope in Him, in my faith, while I was trapped there. Without it, I would have given into despair and died. I chose to have faith and believe He had a purpose for my suffering. I still believe that; hope that. You wish for me to turn my back on the thing that helped me survive? My faith helped me survive, my love for Cullen helped me endure. Without either…my suffering was needless and pointless. I would become..." I couldn't finish. A monster. I would become a monster.

Ellana studied me for a moment. "I admire your faith, sister, even if I do not understand it."

"I could say the same to you," I smiled. 

Her lips twitched in response. "What does the Inquisition think of having a elven heathen as their 'Herald of Andraste'?"

Solana and I chuckled. Solana spoke first, "I'm guessing they don't talk about it much."

Ellana barked a laugh. "I guess not."

"I would guess those who do talk about it have several reasons why they think Andraste would have chosen you," I shrugged.

"What do you think?" her eyes bored into mine at the question.

I hesitated a moment. "To be honest, I am not sure what to think. Do I believe without a doubt that Andraste herself sent you? No. Do I believe it’s possible? Yes. Do I think that your disbelief in Andraste and the Maker disproves that you are her Herald? No. The Maker can choose whomever he wishes for a purpose. Andraste did not believe in him prior to him speaking to her. Wether you were sent by Andraste herself or not really doesn't matter to me," I admitted, "The Maker's providence happens as he wills it, not as we do —and you were what we needed, when we needed it. Without you, without your Mark, we all would have perished."

A smirk lifted Ellana's lips. "Cassandra said the same thing. It didn't make Roderick very happy."

"I don't think anything could make that man happy," I chuckled.

"Except maybe my death," Ellana mused.

"And the Inquisition failing," I added, "Hopefully Cullen and Cassandra kept Haven together while we were gone."

"Speaking of your beau," Ellana began, "I finished Tale of the Champion."

Solana rolled her eyes. "And what do you think of her lover? Was he not the most charming of fellows?"

"He's not my lover," I growled.

"He has come a long way from the man painted by Varric," Ellana said, slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. Solana and I were both shocked by her statement, but before we could speak, she held up a hand. "That being said, he still has growing to do."

Solana seemed more sated by that answer. I quirked a brow and asked, "What changes would you like to see?"

"He needs to understand that mages are capable of self-control. It is not our first instinct—unless we are malicious—to give into blood magic or possession." She took a breath. "I understand his concern due to the Breach. Tears in the Veil do lend themselves to strengthening demonic forces. Yet, mass possession has not occurred as he no doubt fears. Of course, we do not have the mages en masse among our ranks as of yet. Will his fears abate upon the Breach's closure? Or will he find a different excuse for keeping the mages under the watch of the templars? He does realize that the Inquisition is not the Circle?"

"Cullen is nothing, if not cautious," I began, "We will have to see upon the Breach's closure. However, I fully intend to discuss things at length with him upon our return. We are to map out the logistics of the Mage Battalion. I will speak to him about it at that time." I stood and stretched. "If you'll both excuse me for a little while, I need to attend my lesson with Vivienne." Solana audibly groaned and Ellana waved me off.

…

Vivienne was oddly quiet as she directed me through the exercises, but I didn't press her about it. I stayed above deck for a bit after Vivienne went below, watching the land of Ferelden come into view. I felt a presence beside me soon after Vivienne had left and turned. It was Leliana.

"Yes, Sister Nightingale?" I questioned.

"I...apologize for how I handled the would-be assassin," she admitted. She neither looked my way nor moved from her spot. She stood resolute, hands clasped behind her back, her pretty face as hard as stone. "I should have, at the very least, told you. It is your life after all, and you would have been better prepared to defend yourself if you knew you needed to; you would have been better able to protect her as well. It was a...miscalculation on my part. It will not happen again."

"Leliana," I began as the woman started walking away, "Your responsibilities are difficult. You wanted your decision about me to be validated."

She hesitated a moment before turning to face me. "I...fear I went too far in my dealings with you."

I shook my head and kept my voice low enough that only she would hear. "Do I wish you would have asked me first? Yes. However, I know what you did had to be done. I know the truth—as does the Maker. That is ultimately what matters." She inclined her head. "From this moment on, however, I ask that you would consult with me before making decisions that involve my life."

She met my eyes. "As you say, Herald. We will be docking within the next two hours."

  We finally made land in Jader. Cullen had sent a contingent of soldiers to meet us and escort us back to Haven. Cassandra led the group herself. It was odd trying to walk on solid land again; it felt as if I were still upon the sea, my legs wobbly.   Cassandra and Leliana talked for a while while the soldiers saw to our belongings, strapping them down to one of the carts that had been made at the farmland. Vivienne was the last to leave the ship, looking elegant in her opulent robes and followed by a few servants that I had not known were with her.   I felt Ellana bristle beside me as all of the servants were elves. I tried to reassure her that they were not slaves, but paid for their work. She would hear none of it. She and Solana went on and mounted their horses. I waited for Vivienne to descend the ramp.

She greeted me with a kiss on each cheek. "My dear."

"Lady Vivienne."

"As much as I abhor riding horseback, I am eager to see Haven," she stated, "Shall we get to it?"

"I am eager to return as well," I nodded.

…

  We were all mounted and off within an hour. I sensed that everyone knew time was of the essence now that we had returned. I was greeted with several "Herald"s and "My lady"s by the soldiers, none noticing anything off about me.   Cassandra set a brutal pace with her horse, the rest of us doing our best to keep up. She had stated that she wanted to cover as much ground as possible during the day in hopes of getting us to Haven sooner. The hard pace made conversation difficult, if not dangerous, with the mud and muck flying from the horses' hooves. Yet, I found the rush of the wind, the crisp air and ascent into the snowcapped mountains exhilarating. I was not opposed to traveling by sea, but I found I much preferred the adrenaline of riding a horse.     It was nightfall by the time we reached a town to stay overnight in. The soldiers joined the Inquisition garrison stationed in the town within their barracks, while we rented a few rooms at the local inn. Solana and Talitha were to share. Leliana and Sera were to share. Vivienne rented her own room while Cassandra declared she and I would share a room. I was a bit nervous as the last time the Seeker and I had spoken was the evening she brought me to Ellana's cabin to heal her after the initial attempt on the Breach. Things had been strained between us, neither approaching the other.

I entered the room after seeing to necessities to find Cassandra pacing. She'd stripped down to a tunic and her leather leggings, her dark brows knitted in worry. She didn't seem to hear me enter so I asked, "Is something wrong?"

She startled, letting out a gasp. I was shocked. "I-no, everything is...fine." Her dark eyes met mine. "It occurs to me that I don't actually know much about you."

"Are you asking me or the Herald?" I quirked a brow. All of the advisors were abreast of who was who this time as things needed to move quickly until after aid had been secured. Leliana assured us in secret, however, that we were welcome to switch when not meeting about official business. She was curious to see how well we could play our roles.

"You."

"What do you want to know?" I asked.

"I'm...not sure," she admitted, her voice nervous, "Where are you from?"

"I thought you knew that," I chuckled.

"I suppose I could ask Leliana," Cassandra smiled, slightly, "She has collected a frightening amount of information on you. But I don't want to ask her. I want to hear it from you."

"The Dalish Lavellan clan until I was excommunicated, then all over until I reached a village in Ferelden where I was taken to Kinloch Hold by templars. I lived there until I was nineteen, six years in Kirkwall and then another two in Kinloch Hold until the war began. Minaeve and I found our way to Haven after that."

"Tell me, where do you consider home to be? Are you eager to return?"

A deep question for our first time speaking candidly. "Wherever I am is…home enough for me." She didn't need to know that I had no idea what the word 'home' meant. Kinloch Hold had been my home to some degree, but not in the way people meant when they spoke of home. 

Cassandra's shoulders dropped a fraction, "That's how I feel now, after years of tending to business for the Divine." Right Hand of the Divine. She'd also been the one to approach Cullen about joining the Inquisition. They seemed good friends from the few times I had observed them interacting—she like an older sister in a lot of ways. Given how Cullen was a younger brother to an older sister, I’m sure the dynamic felt natural to him. I wondered if she would be able to give me some insight as to the man Cullen had been between Kirkwall and Haven. I decided I wouldn't mind getting to know the woman that had offered him what, in his mind, was a second chance. I opened my mouth to say something along those lines, but she spoke again, "I apologize. I suppose I should just say it outright: I would like to know more about you. I want to make things between us less antagonistic."

"I would like that as well, Cassandra," I nodded.

  Relief flooded her face and her shoulders dropped even more. She motioned for me to sit with her on her bed. She told me about her life in Nevarra, about Nevarra itself. She recounted how she joined the Seekers of Truth to get away from her life there. We spoke of the Seekers and Templar Order in depth, both of us agreeing that the organizations could be salvaged, but needed to be rebuilt from the ground up.   We discussed the Chantry and how it also needed changes; though Cassandra's ideas of change were more reserved than Leliana's. Cassandra even told me how she became the Right Hand of the Divine by fighting dragons in the midst of preventing an assassination attempt on the Divine. Then she recounted her time searching for the Hero and the Champion, interrogating Varric and it led us to discussing Cullen.

"Why did you pick him to lead the Inquisition's forces?" I asked.

  Cassandra considered for a moment. "Aside from his being a templar—both a knight-captain and knight-commander which placed him amongst the most well-trained persons in military tactics in all of Thedas—it was his years of experience, some of which took place during the most horrific magical occurrences in recent history. During both, he showed resilience, tenacity and integrity. He also believes in the Maker and the Chantry, but wishes to see things changed." She met my eyes.   "I understand that you more than likely know...more about him than I do. I also realize that those characteristics I've assigned him, have not always fit him. He is stubborn, quick to surmise and he can be ruthless. He made mistakes during his time in Kirkwall, but in the end he deposed his knight-commander and tired to pull the city back together in the aftermath. He may not be whom everyone would have chosen, but we were looking for people of integrity, people deserving of another chance, people who believed in the Inquisition's cause and want to change things. He met all three of those criteria. When I met him the first time, one look into his eyes and I could see: he wanted a way out of the Order."

"What...what was he like? In the time between?" I asked, my voice hesitant.

A sad smile pulled her mouth. "Like a man who'd lost faith and yearned to find it again." She sighed heavily. "As Warden Blackwall has put it: 'he's seen the best and worst of humanity and he still struggles with where that leaves him'. He is...struggling, Herald. I am...proud to see him rise to the challenge as he has. From when he left Kirkwall to now...I have seen him change a great deal. He is…" she sighed, heavily.

"What is it?" I quirked a brow.

"I am not good with words and I hope that I am saying this adequately," she growled in frustration, "He is having to face who he was and what he did. He's having to let go of much. I do what I can to support him, but..." she met my eyes again and color bloomed in her cheeks.

"Cassandra?" I asked, worriedly, "Are you alright?"

"Sweet Andraste, yes," she breathed, "I believe he would much prefer support from...you."

"I do all I can to support him," I chuckled.

"All you can?" She quirked a brow.

I cocked my head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, how do you...what do you think of Cullen?" She couldn't quite meet my eyes.

"Surely, Leliana has told you that?" I chuckled.

Cassandra laughed then, soft and feminine—so contrasting to the fierce warrior I knew her to be. "She has, but again, I want to hear it from you."

"I love him," I admitted, softly, unable to meet her eyes a blush bloomed in my face. Though I wasn’t looking at her, I heard her let out a breath. I looked up to find relief on her face. "I have loved him for nearly twelve years."

"Forgive me if this is too bold, but perhaps that is the support he needs from you," Cassandra offered.

I blushed even deeper. "I would be glad to give it...if that is what he would want from me." I met her dark eyes. "I could not tell you with any certainty if he feels more for me than friendship. He did once, he never said, but...I knew. Now...I couldn't be sure. Maybe that's more my fault than his."

Cassandra searched my face, emotions and thoughts playing out in her eyes too fast for me to read. "What would assure you that he does?"

My face was positively scarlet. I twisted my hands in my lap and chewed on my lip. "I-I'm not sure I can admit it."

"You want him to touch you?" she ventured a guess, tilting her head to meet my eyes.

I met her gaze again. How did she know? "H-How did you—?"

She smiled broadly. "I may be a warrior, but I am also a woman. Despite what some may think, I, too, dream of romance."

I studied her face, utterly taken aback. "Why are you...being so honest with me?"

"You have been through much and seem in need of support," she shrugged, "You need not feel alone."

"I…thank you," I murmured.

She nodded. "If he were to show you the affection you seek, what then?"

I took a moment to think. "I would probably confess my heart to him."

"You would?" she gasped, "You wouldn't wait for him to tell you first?"

I shook my head. "He wouldn't," I smiled, sadly, "He doesn't believe he's deserving of love or trust—from anyone."

She looked away, her face falling as she gave a small nod of agreement. "And if he doesn't show you affection?"

I sighed. "Then, I will continue to be his stalwart friend."

"And if he never returns your feelings?" her voice was quiet and sad. She did not hope that for either of us.

"I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would remain by his side as long as he would have me—wether I was just his friend or more," I admitted, "I renewed that promise not long ago. He deserves no less."

Hesitantly, Cassandra cupped my shoulder. "I pray that he does not subject you to such a fate."

"It wouldn't be so bad," I chuckled, "I bought him a chessboard. We'd a least have something to do."

Cassandra laughed heartily. "Hold on to that sense of humor."

  We talked a bit more about Cullen and the Inquisition until we determined to turn in for the night. The next few days were spent traveling hard and stopping only to sleep. As we drew nearer to Haven, nerves pooled in my gut as I thought about Cullen. I was ready to see him, yet I knew I had to confront him about what I had read in Tale of the Champion. I was afraid of what his answers would be, but I could not let fear win, as this conversation needed to happen as soon as we returned. Oh Maker, hear my cry.

…

  Horns blared as we were spotted a ways off from the village, announcing our arrival. Snow was lightly falling, a chill breeze brushing my cheeks and whispering in my ears. Cassandra led us through the outer gates, down the now well-worn path that went past the cabin where Minaeve worked. I glimpsed the newly built stables through the wooden gate that sat behind the cabin. As my eyes turned to the village, I hardly recognized it.    All these people. There was nearly three times the amount of recruits standing by their tents at attention as we approached. I spotted Elizabeth and Henry Trevelyan among the recruits, in their respective armors, offering a salute. I noticed a new, large tent sat near the gate at the front of the village proper, a boldly colored flag with the Inquisition’s symbol crowning it and unfurling in the snowy wind.   Cullen? I did not see him anywhere, though. I noticed Bull and his Chargers, Asaala among them, standing outside their tents on the opposite side of the village gates. Warden Blackwall stood near Harrit and his crew as they paused their work to watch our approach.   My eyes were drawn to the Breach. Somehow it seemed larger. I knew it hadn't grown, but the realization that our next step was the last before we tried to close it brought a feeling of intimidation as I stared the thing down.   Then, in my peripheral—gold. I flicked my eyes and I saw him. He stood proud before the village gates, hands on his sword pommel, smirk pulling his lips and my gut twisted hard. I blinked. Has he lost weight? His face looked a little gaunt, his eyes slightly sunken. Deep purple tinged the skin beneath his kind eyes, showing how exhausted he had to be despite his smirk. Yet, he shone as he stood above the crowd now surrounding us and even from where I sat upon my horse, I could sense his warmth. Maker, I missed him.    I shook my head discreetly, I had to focus. Talitha was presented as a new recruit as Solana was presented as a new healer to everyone wanting to see their “Herald”. We dismounted, our horses taken by young stablehands to be seen to by Dennet. Cassandra had to dismiss the crowd after they momentarily overwhelmed us.   Once the crowd made way, she led us to the Chantry. Leliana wanted to debrief the advisors of the events that had occurred in Orlais and introduce the new additions. Vivienne, Sera, Solana and Talitha were allowed within the War Room so that they could be introduced.   The War Room had changed slightly, the map of Thedas more covered in the markers denoting Leliana, Cullen and Josephine’s various assignments. The markers spanned the entirety of Thedas. Stacks of reports sat at each advisor’s chosen place. Pewter goblets and a pitcher sat to one corner of the table. Numerous candles burned, some marked so they could keep track of time.   The advisors took their respective spots as Leliana began with Vivienne and I forced myself not to just stare at Cullen and drink him in. He did not seem concerned about doing the same as every time I did look at him, I found his eyes on me. He’d quickly look away, focusing on whomever was speaking, asking questions as if his attention had not been diverted. I studied him then. He was thinner. His beard thicker. And how he was even standing with how tired he appeared to be, I did not know. Yet, he did not slouch beneath the weight of his armor and his mind was as sharp as ever.   Vivienne had further explained who she was and why she wanted to join the Inquisition before being dismissed. The same with Sera, before she left. Vivienne had left hard jaws in her wake while Sera had left furrowed brows and utter confusion. Leliana then introduced Solana, who had been glaring at Cullen since she’d entered the room, the temperature rising ever so slightly. Solana briefly explained why she wanted to join the Inquisition before Leliana explained Solana's primary role for the Herald.

  Solana shot Cullen another glare before she opened her mouth, “I will admit that I have reservations about joining, however. As the Inquisition has selected its Commander whose history is that of a templar zealot—former or no," she bit at me as I looked at her. Maker, Solana, please. Her eyes returned to Cullen, the room growing even hotter.   "You should be imprisoned for the actions you allowed and even carried out for your superior in Kirkwall!” Cullen said nothing, his jaw clenching, but he kept her gaze. This only seemed to make Solana more angry.   “You disgust me!” she spat, nostrils flared, eyes flashing, the candles in the room burning more brightly, “The atrocities you committed, the hateful things you spewed from your mouth! You should be ashamed!” Solana.    She looked around at all of us, “You should all be ashamed for allowing this man to walk freely, let alone lead your growing army!”

Cullen opened his mouth to speak, pain and anger mingling in his eyes, “I-I—" Oh, Cullen. I told her I wouldn't stop her, but Cullen...I'm sorry.

“Don’t!” she roared, cutting him off, “Don’t speak. You don’t get to speak! I had friends die in Kinloch Hold because you templars were too cowardly to act! I had friends turned Tranquil because you raided the Mage Underground in Kirkwall and dragged them to The Gallows! I had friends die in The Gallows because you did nothing to stop Meredith from committing mass murder! You are a coward and a murderer! You shouldn’t be here!” Cullen continued to look at her, his eyes sad, his lips pressed tight.

“Do you actually want to be here, Solana?” Leliana asked, quietly, her blue eyes icy.

  “Yes!” she hissed as she rounded on Leliana, “I want to help people! I just…” her voice broke as her eyes found mine again. She looked away, shame coloring her face for just a moment.   “I had to get that off my chest.” She took a shaky breath before turning and leaving.

Leliana shut the door behind her. “We may speak freely now, but keep it quiet. There's word going around that our conversations can be heard in the main hall."

Cullen’s eyes kept boring into the door where Solana had left. I cleared my throat and then repeated what I had said to Leliana about Vivienne. Cassandra and Josephine agreed with our thoughts about how to handle the First Enchanter. Cullen said nothing, still looking at the door. We all kept glancing at him as we spoke, but said nothing.

“What about, Solana?” I finally asked, “I worry—“

“Let her stay,” Cullen finally spoke, cutting me off, his voice adamant, “Let her join.”

“Are you sure?” Leliana asked, her voice surprisingly soft as she looked at him.

  “Yes,” Cullen said, vehemently, meeting Leliana's eyes before flicking to mine.   “She’s right,” we all looked to him in surprise causing him to drop his gaze, “Are we finished?”

“We still need to discuss the mage battalion,” Cassandra interjected.

  “I’ve scheduled a private meeting with the Herald," Cullen informed her, "She and I will discuss Talitha and the battalion. I would prefer it if we were not interrupted.” The other ladies nodded their heads, concern on their faces before leaving. Cullen followed them to the door, closing it behind them. He sighed heavily before turning to me, he crossed his arms over his chest and was silent for a few heartbeats, the tension between us nearly palpable. I played with my fingers and chewed my lip as my nerves grew.   He didn’t meet my eyes before saying, “I assume Solana said much the same to you on your journey here?”

  “Yes,” I said quietly, “And I read Tale of the Champion.” He closed his eyes, shame coloring his face, but he made no effort to defend himself.    “Is what Varric wrote true?” I asked.

He hesitated, scowling, still not looking at me. "Yes."

“How could…how could you say those things? Believe those things?” I questioned, my voice thick.

Cullen finally met my eyes, pain in his own as he spoke, “As I told you, I was…broken after Kinloch Hold. I saw demons everywhere. Blood mages everywhere. I saw only threats instead of people,” he murmured, before he began to pace.   “I left for Kirkwall and Meredith nurtured my anger—my fear—through her own. I was…poisoned further by her madness. And I have no one to blame but myself. Over time, however, my...wounds healed. I think Hawke aided me, because she challenged my prejudices. I started to see Meredith for what she was; what I was becoming. I took action far too late, but I did stand against her in the end. It doesn’t justify what I said, what I did, but I-I am trying,” his voice broke on the last word. He took a moment to collect himself, anger crossing his face, as his hand clenched around the hilt of his sword.   “I tried to pull Kirkwall back together after; I tried to keep the mages safe, tried to weed out the corruption. Yet, everywhere I turned I saw only corruption. The corruption I myself had listened to—had fed—and I couldn’t remember what it meant to be a templar any longer. So, when Cassandra came with her offer, I left and did not look back.” He met my eyes once more.   “That does not mean that I believe templars should not exist. Their foundational purpose is a good one. Just as the Circle’s foundational purpose is a good one. Both have been corrupted, abused. Both need systemic change. Templars are leashed to the Chantry and the Order, just as much as mages are leashed to the Circle and the Chantry. Both need freedoms. Yet, the threat still remains that mages can be possessed or wield magic against others; templars alone have the abilities to defend against magic, but can just as easily be corrupted by their lyrium leash holders.”   He looked away, his jaw clenching as he resumed pacing. “Do not ask me to set aside my concerns about mages nor my respect for templars. I understand change needs to happen, for both sides. I disagree with the Order’s actions. That I'm here is proof of that. But  I understand what happened in Kirkwall was wrong—was…abhorrent.” He met my eyes again.   “And I understand that I have much to answer for, but allow me to do so here. Allow me to help change things here. Allow me to be the man I want to be here.”

   Tears burned in my eyes at his words. He was still hurting. Still healing. He hated himself too; hated what he had become. I knew all of that, but seeing his anger, his sadness as yet again those chains of the past pulled at him, linked him to the man he no longer wanted to be, but could not bury…it made my heart ache. Yet, I still had to ask the questions burning in my mind.   “Do you still think that mages can’t be trusted?” I questioned, “That we’re all a threat?”

He studied my face. “I’ve seen the suffering magic can inflict. I’ve treated mages with distrust because of it—at times without cause. That was unworthy of me. I shall try not to do so here. Not that I want mages to move about our base completely unchecked. We need safeguards in place to protect people, including mages, from possession at the least.” He was being honest, he would be no less.

“Will you be able to trust me?" I asked, raising my chin a fraction, "To trust the mages I choose to have under me in this battalion?”

“Yes," No hesitation. His golden eyes burned with conviction, "Any precautions I advise are meant to aid and protect, nothing more; I hope you will see them as such.”

“Will we train this battalion as equal partners?” I quirked a brow.

“Yes," he nodded, his stance relaxing a fraction, "You and I will be equal in rank and power. Ultimately, I am the Commander of the Inquisition's forces. The battalion will function within the army and follow my direction when it does. Outside of the main army, however, the battalion will have its own autonomy that falls under your judgment. The battalion will have duties and missions to see to separate from the main force—if my predictions are correct."

  I swallowed hard. The hardest question for me came next. I drew myself up to my full height, dropping my hands that I had been fidgeting with as I did.   “Do you…do you still think the Rite of Tranquility should be applied more widely, as Alrik wanted? As you seemed to agree with when Hawke brought his proposal to your attention?” 

  It looked as if I’d slapped him. His face paled and his mouth fell open. Horror filled his eyes. He crossed the gap between us, hands outstretched, but I stepped back. Immediately, he dropped his hands to his sides and moved no closer.   “Meira,” he breathed my name so quietly, only I could hear, “Forgive me.”

  “Do you?” I demanded, a sob of anger and sadness loudly tearing from my throat. Tears burned hot in my eyes. I could not remember that it had been him to put the brand to my forehead, but the pain…the pain of it, I remembered. Like being thrown into icy water. The air torn from my lungs, pain like a thousand needles pricking every inch of me. My mind that had been so full of pain, sorrow, screams of all I had endured, doubt and fear tearing it apart was suddenly silent. The Veil and the Fade I had been so keenly aware of, the mana coursing through my body no different than breathing, gone. Yes, the Rite had allowed me to heal and face what had happened without breaking all over again, but I would never wish it upon anyone.

  He stepped closer to me then, ignoring as I stepped back again. I kept moving away as he closed the distance between us, something intense in his eyes. My back was against the wall, he towering over me as he nearly brought us chest to chest. Surprise lanced through me as he took my face in his hands, his touch gentle as he coaxed me to look into his eyes. My heart stuttered in my chest.   “When I put that brand to your head, I-I had never hated myself more," his eyes flicked to where the brand would be, now covered by Solana's make-up and the painted vallaslin. His eyes found mine again.   "When I found you in that cell, I finally saw how blind I had become." Closing his eyes, he hesitantly placed his forehead on mine. I inhaled sharply.   "What happened to you should never have happened. I should have realized, yet I was so consumed with hatred I ignored what was happening around me—seeing only mages as the evildoers," he leaned back, "But the evil that had infested the templars there…No, the Rite should never be forced, should never be a punishment. It should be a last resort, if it should happen at all. To see you devoid of emotion, it was…“ he couldn’t find the words.

I pushed him away, not trusting myself to finish asking the questions I needed to with him touching me. “So, what? We should all just be ‘mercifully killed’, then?”

“Maker, no!" He tore a hand through his hair, “But—“

“But what, Cullen?” I demanded. I was angry. Angry at what had happened to him, to me, to us. Mages and templars. Chained together, but doomed to hate each other—or doomed to a cursed love.

  “I don’t know!” he roared, frustratedly, his nose scrunching as his lip curled. He paced in front of me again.   “The system sets you up for failure! It binds us to carry out questionable orders! It is broken! I have already admitted that, but I do not know how to fix it!” He leaned towards me, pointing his fingers towards his chest.

“But you want to?” I demanded.

“Yes! Maker’s breath, yes!” He came close to me again, his eyes burning.

“Then, let’s figure out how to fix it,” I offered a hand, “Together.”

He looked me in the eyes before he grasped my hand and shook, “Together.” I had to ignore the flutter of my heart at his touch.

“It begins with the battalion,” I said, softly.

…

  We talked for hours about what it would look like. What training would consist of and how we would go about it. I made it a requirement that I selected who would be part of the battalion, but Cullen could make suggestions. The battalion would be trained separately at first by both Cullen and I before we would join the main army in training. The mages would need to spar with the recruits to practice their weapon skills once they'd learned how to summon them. 

“How large is the battalion to be?” I asked.

“I suppose it depends,” he offered, “On how many mages join, on how many are battle-able and how large the Inquisition itself becomes.”

  We were seated now, at a small table away from the map of Thedas spread out in the middle of the room. We were close together, leaning over several pieces of parchment where we'd written notes of our discussion. I glanced up at him. He was leaning over the table, more exhausted than he had been when we began as he scratched notes with his quill.

“How long have we been in here?” I asked as I leaned back to stretch.

He looked around, his eyes catching on a candle as he spoke, “Quite a few hours, I’m afraid. Far longer than I should have been away," he stretched his legs out before he stood, "I should return to my duties.”

I stood as well, but I placed a hand on his arm. "Cullen—" 

He tensed and I removed my hand. With a quick turn, he faced me. “I…should I speak with Solana?”

“I don’t think she’s ready yet, Cullen,” I murmured, “She’s...blinded in her own way. Not that her anger is unfounded or unjustified, but she’s letting it blind her to your...contrition.”

“And so the cycle continues,” he sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Mages and templars. Forever doomed to be joined.”

“Are you going to fall for Solana?” I asked, sarcastically.

“Wh-what?” he stammered, looking confused even as a blush bloomed in his cheeks.

“Me, Hawke, Bethany, now Solana,” I sighed, listing the females in his life off on my fingers, “Who will it be? Ellana? Elizabeth? You’ve certainly got quite the selection to choose from, Commander.”

He went scarlet as a hand went to his neck once more, “Maker’s breath.”

I laughed heartily at the look on his face—it was adorable. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist!”

His eyes found mine as his face shifted, looking commanding and virile. “Meira,” he murmured, sending heat down my spine. He leaned in close, placing a hand on either side of me as he gripped the table, pinning me between it and him. His arms were brushing my hips as he pressed close to me.   His voice took on a husky tone as he dropped his voice, “There is only one person who has ever caught my attention. If you’re truly desperate to know, you need only to ask.”

  His eyes were intense, his face close to—the closest it had been since we were teenagers—and I couldn't stop myself from looking at his lips. They twisted into crooked grin, pulling that scar that cut through the upper one. Involuntarily, I bit my own. I met his eyes again and felt like I was melting under the heat of them. I blushed deeply this time, my heart fluttering.   “Who—“

“Forgive the intrusion, Commander,” a recruit barged into the room, his nose in his clipboard, causing us to jerk apart, “Captain Rylen has several urgent reports for you to read. He said they couldn’t be delayed any longer.”

Cullen cleared his throat, as he straightened and stepped away, “Herald.”

“Commander,” I dipped my chin.

As we exited the War Room, Minaeve was passing by with Bethany. 

"Minaeve," Cullen called out, "Could I speak with you a moment?"

  I watched as Minaeve stopped dead in her tracks, her back going rigid as her eyes turned to Cullen. They were full of anger, her mouth and jaw set hard.   "I'm afraid I am rather busy at the moment, Commander. If you have a need to discuss findings, you may speak with one of the Tranquil. They will be able to provide you with a detailed explanation that should be to your satisfaction."

"Well, yes, but," Cullen began again, his brow furrowing, "I wish to speak with you."

Minaeve's eyes turned icy. "I think you've had enough females visiting your tent as of late."

Cullen's mouth fell open, but he quickly closed it again. "I-I'm sorry?"

"You heard me, Commander," she seethed, her brown eyes simmering with anger.

Bethany and I exchanged a glance. Bethany looked absolutely bewildered and I'm sure I had the same expression on my face. Minaeve continued to stare Cullen down, her countenance bordering on terrifying. I had never seen Minaeve behave so. 

  "I-I will ask one of the Tranquil later on," Cullen stammered, his own face utterly confused, "My apologies." Cullen turned to me and offered a slight nod.   "Herald, if you would excuse me. Perhaps we could continue our discussion later?" I was about to respond when he walked quickly away. 

  I watched until he exited the Chantry and turned to where Minaeve and Bethany still stood. Minaeve was still glaring in Cullen's direction until her eyes met mine. The hardness in her face fell away.   "I apologize, Herald." At that, she turned to Josephine's office.

I followed them inside, finding Asaala within, but Josephine was gone. Asaala leaned against the wall, her arms crossed as she watched Minaeve. 

"Um, Minaeve? What exactly was that about?" Bethany asked the elf.

"What was what about?" Asaala asked, a brow quirked.

"We just got to witness little Minaeve give our Commander a verbal lashing," I offered, "We're a little confused as to why."

"Herald," Minaeve began, "If you'll forgive me, I…that was inappropriate behavior. I should have handled that privately."

"Minaeve," I whispered, "It's me."

A look of confusion shifted to realization to panic. Shock crossed her face before color bloomed in her cheeks. "Oh-oh, sweet Andraste!" she swore. 

"Minaeve, what in the Maker's name is going on?" Bethany asked.

   "I-I," she stammered. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.   "I saw the Commander and Elizabeth Trevelyan in his tent when I was taking reports to him. We usually go over them together, should he have any questions. Well, it...it looked like they had...slept together. He was putting his armor back on, she was fixing her clothes. Then, she placed her hand on his arm and he held her chin. Before she exited the tent, she said, 'Thanks for the wonderful evening, Cullen'."

Maker. Andraste. Please, no.

Asaala barked a laugh. "Of course she did,” she chuckled, though it had a menacing quality to it, "That woman is the most relentless flirt I think I have ever seen."

"Indeed," Bethany scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Between her and Captain Rylen…I want to gouge my eyes out whenever they're together. It's as if they compete to see who can be the most seductive."

  "So, what are you saying?" I asked, trying to keep the anger and panic out of my voice, "You think she seduced Cullen?" Asaala and Bethany laughed again. That earned a confused look from Minaeve and irritation from me.   "What?"

"Not at all," Bethany assured, “Cullen's too...well, I'm not sure how to phrase it, but no. I have no doubt that this is just some misunderstanding."

"Exactly," Asaala nodded, "Little one," Asaala looked to Minaeve, her voice gentle, "Did they kiss? Have you seen them together since?"

"Well...no," Minaeve admitted, returning to her more timid countenance, "Why?"

"Cullen would be someone to show continued affection," Asaala spoke, "Maybe not openly since he's a private person, but he's too...sentimental to have no more to do with a woman than a one night stand. He'd want more. He'd give more."

"Why do you say that?" I asked the qunari.

"Why don't you ask him?" Asaala retorted, quirking a brow as her purplish eyes flicked to me, "Besides, do you think Cullen to be that kind of man? He gets ridiculously flustered at the mere mention of anything sexual. You think he'd have the guts to invite her to his bed? You think he'd accept an invitation from her without more build up?"

"No, I don't," I admitted—more to myself than to them.

"Then, go talk to him about it," Bethany encouraged, "If you're worried, he's the only one that will be able to tell you the truth—and who you would believe."

I looked at all three of them. "You're right," then heat rose in my face, “But h-how do I even begin such a conversation? What if he asks me why it matters?"

They all exchanged a glance. Bethany stepped forward, motioning for us all to come closer together. "First, you need to be Talitha, not the Herald," she whispered, "Have Solana help you and make you look gorgeous. I don't care how she does it, but she'll know what you mean. Wait until later in the evening, when there should be no more official business. Then, just ask him or ask him what you mean to him. Don't leave until you're satisfied."

"Just ask him? Just like that?" I said, looking between them. ‘You need only ask’.

"If you mean to him what I believe you do, he will answer. He may be embarrassed, he'll definitely trip over his words, but he will be honest with you," Bethany assured, her brown eyes earnest, "Besides, you two are friends first. You have been for a long time and have been through a lot together. Surely, he owes you an explanation? Just as you owe him the chance to explain himself?"

I nodded. Minaeve grabbed my hand. "I'm sorry if I made you worry. I should've talked to you about it first—to these two before that."

I hugged her. "It's alright. Bethany is right. I owe him the chance to explain."

"I hope it's the answer you want to hear and that I was foolishly wrong," she mumbled.

I chuckled and put my hands on her shoulders. "You were just trying to protect me and be a true friend. I thank you for that, Minaeve."

"You're welcome," she blushed, "I fear I may have done more harm than good, though."

"I needed to know," I shook my head, "Leave the rest to me.”

  I left them in the Chantry and went to track down Solana. I knew she'd be defensive, knew that I probably had other, more important things to see to than Cullen, but I didn't care anymore. I was tired of this game. I needed to know where he and I were going, if we would ever be more than friends. If he had slept with Elizabeth. The thought nearly sent me to my knees.   I wanted him to be happy, wether it was with me or someone else; he deserved to be happy and I would not deny him. Yet, the thought of him finding happiness in someone else...it was gut wrenching. I found Solana unpacking her things within the cabin that Bethany, Minaeve, Asaala and I all shared.

“Solana,” I knocked on the door frame, “May I speak with you?”

  “Why?" She snapped as she rounded on me. There were streaks on her cheeks from crying. "So you can yell at me for snapping at your precious templar?”

“I’m not going to snap at you,” I sighed, “I was in agreement with you. Maybe not as harshly, but what you said needed to be said. He agreed himself. He was the one that vouched for you to join; demanded that you join.”

She couldn’t hide the surprise that colored her face. “That doesn’t excuse—“

“What in your eyes will, Solana?" I groaned, cutting her off, "He acknowledged the truth in your words. He begged the Herald to allow him to atone amongst the Inquisition, as its Commander. He expressed his regret and shame at the things he said and did. He is trying. Is that not enough? Will nothing, but his blood spilled upon the ground appease you? Does that not make you what you hate so much about him?”

She glared at me. “You may be persuaded to forgive him, but I will not be. Not easily.”

“I’m not asking you to forgive,” I shook my head, “I’m just asking that you be willing to see that he is trying.”

“How about I just stay out of his way and he stays out of mine?” she crossed her arms over her chest.

“That’s something, at least,” I murmured, “I suppose you feel the same about me?”

She hesitated, her face softening. “No, but I can still be mad at you for your miserable taste in men.”

I laughed. "Good, because I need your help. And we need to find Ellana."

She uncrossed her arms. "What's wrong?"

I smiled, wickedly, "Oh nothing, I just need you to help me break my precious templar. I need you to make me Talitha and make me look 'gorgeous', as Bethany put it."

…

"Don't tell me you're serious!" Solana's voice raged.

  I had been exiting my quarters, heading for the kitchen when I heard her shouting from within. I stepped through the door to find Solana, Vivienne, Ellana and Leliana all sitting at a table. Anger charged the room.   The others already had their plates of dinner in front of them, though there was no food before Vivienne. I guessed she had come in to request another fine meal be prepared for her, when she was pulled into a discussion. A discussion which had turned heated.

"I am perfectly serious, my dear," Vivienne purred as she sat with her back straight in her chair, examining her nails, "Justinia's death shattered the balance of power in Thedas. If it is not restored quickly, countless lives will be lost. Mages, templars, innocent people of all kinds now look to the Inquisition to decide their fate."

"Which, of course, is why you wanted to join," Solana scoffed, brown eyes flashing, "To have a hand in deciding that fate. To gain yourself more influence."

"Wouldn't you?" Vivienne retorted, a brow raising as she met Solana’s fiery gaze, "For almost a thousand years, the world believed it was in the hands of the Maker. Now, many believe the Herald is the agent of His will. Whatever the truth is, that belief gives both her and the Inquisition power." Vivienne turned to find me when Solana glanced my way. "Do you not agree, my dear? That this war must end? That it benefits no one?"

"It benefits us!" Solana fumed, scowling, "It benefits mages who have been stuck under the thumbs of both the Chantry and the templars! It is giving us a chance to fight for our freedom, to finally speak for ourselves. To maybe make some actual change for the better!"

Both women looked to me. I forced myself not to glance at Ellana as I spoke in answer to Vivienne. "This chaos harms everyone. And no, war benefits no one—nothing of real worth can be achieved in the shedding of blood, Lady Amell. Order must be restored, yes, but Lady Vivienne, though it is not the circumstances under which you would choose to bring about change, surely you must agree that change is needed—at least to some degree."

"Of course, but do you honestly think it will happen now? That it will be welcomed?" Vivienne chided with a small shake of her head, "We would have done well to remain in the Circle and change from within."

"The Circle is gone!" Solana seethed, "There is no more Circle!"

Vivienne's mouth grew into a haughty grin as she narrowed her eyes at Solana. "The Circle is an idea, my dear, and an idea cannot be dissolved." Her smile fell, but her eyes remained narrowed. "When the vote was cast, no consideration was made that the lack of a unanimous decision would pit mage against mage." She gestured between Solana and herself. "As we are doing now."

"So you truly are for the restoration of the Circles?" Leliana inquired, "To keep the status quo?"

"The status quo is gone, Sister Nightingale," Vivienne stated, "All that Grand Enchanter Fiona's vote did was split the Circle in two. The Rebels follow Fiona. The Loyalists follow me. Whatever comes in the future, it will not look like the Circle we had before. We cannot go back."

"I'm surprised you even address Fiona as 'Grand Enchanter', Vivienne," Solana scoffed, tossing her buttery-blonde waves over her shoulder, "Even more surprised you haven't simply named yourself as Grand Enchanter, since you lead the Loyalists." 

"Don't be ridiculous, my dear," Vivienne breathed a humorless laugh, as she crossed her arms over her chest, "Grand Enchanters are elected. There is no body to elect a new Grand Enchanter as I am the only First Enchanter able to cast a vote. The title would not only be meaningless now, but essentially a joke. When the Circles are restored, that will change."

"If they are restored," Solana hissed, her lip curling. 

Vivienne smiled that cold smile. "Of course, my dear, a slip of the tongue."

I finally took a seat at the table, but the conversation showed no signs of abating. If Solana and Vivienne could have had it out right there in a magical duel, I had no doubt they would have. Instead, they chose to spar with their words and facial expressions. In an effort to curb the heated discussion I asked, "You are from the Montsimmard Circle, yes? What was it like?"

Vivienne's face warmed a fraction. "A place of great history and tradition with no greater library of magical history outside of the Imperium. It was deeply involved in the Great Game, as you might expect of anyone living in Orlais." Which earned a snort and "There's nothing 'great' about it", from under Solana’s breath. "The mages there were quite competitive, but it was stimulating to be always pushed to exceed the abilities of my peers."

"What is your opinion on templars?" Ellana asked. Well, there goes that effort.

"Having opinions about templars, my dear, is exactly like having opinions about mages, or Nevarrans, or men," Vivienne's tongue cut like a blade as her voice bled with annoyance. "I have known some who were impossible to endure and some who were utterly charming. I have suffered insults at the hands of those in the armor, but no more than I endured from nobles or tradesmen in Val Royeaux. Personally, I have found the templars a useful tool, skilled at keeping more unpleasant elements at bay."

"If they aren't the unpleasant element themselves," Solana grumbled, causing Vivienne to roll her eyes in response.

"How did the mages and templars get here?" I inquired. In for a copper, in for a sovereign. I thought it would be good for Ellana to hear this argument played out before her as well, as she could further understand two of the major viewpoints. "As a Dalish elf, I've been...on the outside looking in."

"Because—" Solana began.

"Hush, my dear, the adults are talking," Vivienne interrupted, cutting Solana off, earning a death glare which Vivienne ignored, "You, my dear, are far too wise not to have realized that many of my colleagues live with their eyes closed." She shot Solana a glance. "Safe from the world inside their towers, they thought only of the templars and their own resentment. Kirkwall gave the world a reason to remember its fear of magic. A mage killed hundreds with a snap of their fingers."

"A mage that had gone mad!" Solana protested, "He does not represent us all. His way is not the way I would have taken."

"Be that as it may, because of the actions of one mage, across Thedas, a new, tangible fear of magic grew," Vivienne retorted, "Commoners and nobles alike called to the Chantry for protection." It was Vivienne’s turn to glare at Solana. "But the malcontents in the towers—and outside of them—thought nothing of this. They cared only for themselves and their anger at the new templar restrictions. When a mage attempted to assassinate Divine Justinia—again—the mages protested the investigation." Vivienne sat up straighter in her seat. "The leadership chose to vote on independence based on the 'intolerable conditions imposed by the templars'." Her face fell. "They spared no thought to the fact that magic was more feared in the aftermath of these attacks than it had been since Tevinter's day." Vivienne glared at Solana again. "So long as they had their freedom, they could care little for riots, angry mobs, or about pitting mages against each other."

"That's ridiculous!" Solana stood from her chair, her hands splayed wide. "I do care. I know several others who care. This was not what I wanted. Its not what they wanted! This should be about us versus the templars, versus the Chantry, not us against each other."

"I thought the fighting was only between the mages and templars?" Ellana questioned, her brow knit in confusion. "Why are mages fighting mages?"

"The vote for independence was carried only by a small margin, but Fiona chose to let the motion stand," Vivienne replied, "Those who opposed a rash declaration of war against the entire free world had little choice. By breaking from the Chantry when they did, the Rebels declared themselves in support of mass murder. Anyone who did not wish to support terrorism and the slaughter of innocents was forced to take arms against the Rebels."

Solana let out an exasperated noise. "That is not true!"

"If it is not true, then why did the Rebels willingly throw their lot in with the Imperium? Indenture themselves to a magister?" I asked. Ellana had told me of the conversation between her and Fiona and Magister Alexius. I could hardly believe what Fiona had done. "Dire" was an understatement for the situation there and I fully understood why Leliana believed there was no other place for them to redeem themselves than the Inquisition. "I spoke to Fiona. Spoke with this Magister Alexius. Fiona knew what she was doing, knew she was selling out those under her protection. Yet, she did it in order to keep them "safe" because the Circles were so much worse than proverbial slavery to the Imperium's army. What other reason did she have for doing that, other than knowing they would find no help elsewhere because Thedas was now firmly set against them?"

"What?" Solana, sitting again out of shock, exclaimed at the same time as Vivienne. "She did what?"

"To escape the blade of the templars, Fiona thought it would be a grand idea to sell the Rebels to Tevinter," I repeated. They both wore expressions of absolute rage at my words. "The whole thing sounds like coercion and manipulation on Alexius's part, but when I spoke with Fiona, she fully understood what she had done. Citing Justinia's death as the death of any chance for peace between them and the templars."

"You said something about servitude at the shop," Solana said to Leliana, "but I didn't understand what you meant. I thought you were referring to servitude to the Rebels."

"No, Solana," Leliana shook her head, "Your fellow mages have submitted themselves to be wielded by Tevinter. Alexius plans on making them all serve the military. No matter their age or suitability to fight."

"How dare she," Solana raged, the temperature in the room raising a fraction, “How dare she!”

"My dear, it's simply her dementia showing," Vivienne waved a hand dismissively despite the anger in her own voice.

"Are you familiar with Grand Enchanter Fiona?" I asked.

"We've met," Vivienne practically spat the word 'met'. "Before her horrendously ill-timed and selfish vote for independence, I thought her adequate at her job," Vivienne began, "In her dotage, she could not handle looking after the well-being of so many people. We would have done better to replace her years ago to let her spend time gardening."

Ellana snorted a laugh, but quickly tried to cover it up. I had to fight hard to keep my face neutral. Yet, another display of Vivienne eviscerating another with no more than her words. "But did the mages truly have cause to rebel?" I probed.

"Yes," Solana and Leliana replied, emphatically.

"In the aftermath of their terrorist attacks?" Vivienne countered, sneering at the pair, "Was that really the most opportune time to break away? By all means, protest abuses by the templars! Just don't do it in a way that says mages support wholesale murder." Her dark eyes met mine. "By voting when they did, my colleagues all but declared war upon the ordinary people of Thedas. A war in which we are outnumbered a hundred to one."

"While I completely agree with you, Vivienne, that what Fiona did was absolutely foolish, you are blind to the truth," Solana challenged, "Not every Circle is like Montsimmard—cushy, privileged and ruled by the nobility. We don't all have the luck to wind up at Court where we can pull the strings to improve only our own life, forgetting the lives of all those worthless mages we stepped on to get to the top."

"I did not ‘wind up’ at Court, my dear, nor was I born with a silver spoon in my mouth as you seem to wish to paint me," Vivienne cooly argued, "I was born in Wycome and transferred to Monsimmard from the Ostwick Circle while I was still an apprentice. It took a great deal of effort to become a courtier, culminated when I caught the eye of Duke Bastian de Ghislain, becoming his mistress." Her voice took on a soft quality as she spoke of the Duke, the first time I had heard her speak so. "An advantageous connection that opened many doors. When the position of Enchanter to the Imperial Court became vacant, I was able to secure it."

"You are Court Enchanter?" I quirked a brow, “What is your role?”

Vivienne's dark eyes flicked to me. "As Court Enchanter, I am tasked with providing assistance to the Empress on arcane matters. Most of my predecessors restricted this to lighting lamps and doing parlor tricks. In such troubled times as these, however, I provide political advice to Her Majesty on the subject of the Mage Rebellion." Vivienne faced Solana once more. "I did that so that others who follow after me could further improve the position. Every move I made in my life was both for my benefit and to show others that it could be done. We can change the system from within to be what we desire, if we are patient, cunning and determined enough to do so. If you try, yet it does not work and you simply give up, you are not allowed to complain that nothing has changed. It is only when you have exhausted every effort, travelled every route, turned over every stone and still nothing has changed, that you can stand back and say 'I am without blame'. When you have made no effort yourself—when you've run away from the problem—the blame rests entirely at your feet." Solana was positively livid as Vivienne sank her claws into her.

Solana stood from her seat, sending her chair falling back and thrust a finger at Vivienne. "To the Void with you!" At that, she made for the door.

"Exactly my point, my dear," Vivienne sighed.

"What do you know of me?" Solana shouted as she rounded back on our group, "Nothing."

"Could I not say the same of you?" Vivienne turned to her as she gracefully rose from her chair, her silk mage robes glistening as she did. "You know nothing of me, yet you have decided in your mind what and who I am. I could not care in the slightest what you think of me, but do not forget that as you point your finger, you have several more pointing at yourself. Do not take your anger out on me for doing what you failed to do; what you were too lazy to do."

Solana marched up to Vivienne, hand outstretched to slap the woman. I stepped between the two before she could. "That's enough, both of you." Both turned their eyes on me. "You've made your points. Now put the blades away and focus your efforts on the Inquisition. Your infighting means nothing if the Breach is not closed properly. You can be at each others' throats again once we've seen to the immediate threat."

They glared at each other for a moment longer until Vivienne inclined her head to me, "Herald." At that, she brushed past Solana.

Solana stood there, her coffee eyes flicking to me. For the briefest of moments, I saw the glimmer of tears in them. Solana blinked and the glimmer was gone, rage taking its place once more. She said nothing as she turned from the room, her buttery-blond hair billowing around her at the movement.

I sighed heavily. "Well, that was horrible." I turned back to Leliana and Ellana, my eyes falling on the latter. "What do you think, Talitha?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "I thought those kind of rows only happened between Dalish elves and humans. It was rather...entertaining, if I'm to be honest. I feel terrible for Solana, Vivienne carved her open and left her corpse for the Dre-Void."

"I meant more what the argument was about," I clarified.

She hesitated a moment, mulling it over. "Well, I...I am not sure. I think both of them were right and wrong about things, but could at least agree that the way Fiona handled the Rebels was wrong. If they could set aside their pride long enough to actually talk to each other, I think they could reach compromises that bring about the changes needed."

"And if Vivienne is wrong?" Leliana interjected, a red brow arched, "That her ideas would set the Circle and mages backwards instead of forwards? She wants to reinstate what was, but only in a way that gives herself and mages power. It would not be for the better, nor would it end well. Solana wants to reshape what was for what could be, but still within the structure that is; yes, while she disagrees with the war, she accepts that it could bring the world to a point of having to listen to the mages. Solana would accept the restoration of the Circles, so long as there are new freedoms promised. Would those freedoms be upheld? Or over time would the Chantry and the templars return to their old ways? I would have it all torn down; let the mages have their freedom."

"Why?" I probed, "Why do you care?"

"I have known mages, some of them were better people than me," Leliana began, her voice earnest, "Yet, I am free and they're not. It's not right." She glanced between us both. "Change is coming, no matter how much some may wish for things to go back to how they were. Vivienne is correct in saying that the status quo is gone and that it is more than likely that the Inquisition will be the force to determine what the new order will be—if the Chantry does not regain its strength. Will we use it to truly change things or will Thedas fail to learn from its recent mistakes and doom itself to repetition?"

Ellana shook her head. "I do not think Thedas will accept radical change. How would the people react? What if it only brings mages to more harm? The elves as well because people love to blame them for everything? Perhaps the Inquisition can set changes in motion as long as it is around. We can nudge history in the direction it needs to go, versus shoving it into an abyss it cannot recover from?"

"What if a shove is what is needed?" Leliana questioned, her lips twisting into a smirk. "The way things have been no longer work and restoring it—while at first it would sate the masses and bring peace—we'd only end up where we are now. A shove, a force of change…no the people would not like it, but they would have to change. One way or another."

"We shall see," I stated, "For now, can we please eat? I am starving and all this talk of the Inquisition ruling Thedas is only increasing my appetite."

Leliana and Ellana chuckled, but nodded. Leliana stood shortly after, having finished most of her food while Vivienne and Solana were arguing. "I have some business to see to, if you'd excuse me."

We waved her off. "Well, that was interesting," Ellana chuckled, humor in her green eyes, "Who knew the shems were so entertaining," she added in a low whisper.

I let out a laugh. "You haven't seen anything yet."

Ellana smiled before she stood. "I'll come check on you after awhile, Herald. I have a book to finish."

"You'll have to tell me what you think so far," I stated, "I'll see you later, Talitha."

I took a moment to enjoy the silence and wondered what Cullen was up to. I wondered if he had taken my advice and gone to the tavern or if he was too busy. I chuckled as I pictured him hiding out in the stables with Dennet's mabari. I hoped he was looking after himself. Again, longing filled me as I thought of him and my mind dared to wander to daydreams. My thoughts were quickly cut short, however, as I felt a cold blade at my throat.

"What have we here?" an oily voice spoke, "The lovely Herald all by her lonesome?" The owner of the blade lowered themselves to my ear. "Will Andraste save you from my slicing your throat? You are an insult to the Maker, you knife-eared spellbind. The Maker would send no elf in our hour of need. He'll take my offering of your blood as worship."

I thought I would feel fear, but instead all that came was dark rage. "Then do it," I snarled with such venom the would-be assassin hesitated. The blade shifted just enough at his surprise. I pulled his hand away, freezing the blade to his palm before I leaned forward and rammed my head back as hard as I could. I heard a crunch, felt a pain in my skull, but the looming presence moved away from me. I quickly stood and turned to find one of the sailors holding his nose as blood gushed between his fingers. "What happened to making me your sacrifice?" I goaded.

His eyes snapped open, glaring at me through the haze of pain and tears, "I'll cut you op—" His words were cut off as the head of an arrow burst its way through his throat, blood splattering on me.

"Shut it," a nasally voice spoke from behind the man, who subsequently fell forward as he gurgled on his own blood. "Ugh, gross!" My eyes met a tall, elven female. Choppy blonde hair, large eyes and full lips curled into a sneer. Her clothes were patched and raggedy. She held a bow and had a quiver of arrows strapped to her back. "It's all good, innit, Herald?"

I met her eyes as she stepped over the man still twitching. "I-yes, thank you."

"Great!" she beamed, "Leliana said you'd be mad, but I don't know why you would be. Me saving your life an' all."

"Why would I be mad?" I asked.

"Better ask her," she shrugged as she crouched above the dying man. "I didn't understand myself. Care if I go through his pockets? Know if they have any sweets in here?" she asked as she glanced around the kitchen.

"Help yourself," I offered, a little bewildered, "As for the sweets, I'm not sure, but if you find some, I'd happily take a share."

She chuckled, the sound coming more from her nose than her throat. "Can't make any promises there, Herald."

"Do you know where Leliana is?" I questioned.

"Her room I'd 'xpect," the girl shrugged again, "If you're having a go at her, I'd keep it in there."

"Thank you," I smiled, "And thank you for...that." I gestured to the would-be assassin on the floor.

"Had it coming, that one," she sneered at him again, "Ravin' mad."

I made my way to Leliana's room and knocked on the door. "I take it you met, Sera," Leliana's voice spoke from behind me, causing me to jump a little.

"I believe so," I chuckled, "Young elven female? Blonde, tall and funny? Archer?"

"That would be Sera," Leliana nodded, her blue eyes calculating.

"She told me to find you, that I would be mad at you?"

"Perhaps," Leliana clasped her hands behind her back. "The assassination attempt. I knew it was coming."

"You knew?" Ellana's voice growled from behind me. I turned to find her marching her way to Leliana, anger plain on her face. 

"Of course," Leliana nodded, "I take it Sera found you, then?"

"She told me what happened and to find you," she seethed, "She didn't tell me you knew. Why is Sera even here? I thought she'd gone ahead of us?"

"I received word that one of the crew members on this vessel would try and assassinate the Herald, if given the opportunity," Leliana began to explain, "We were unsure which sailor it was, so I waited. Sera has been aboard the ship since we departed, hiding in the shadows, watching over the Herald. She was instructed to kill the assassin when he attempted to kill you and bring you both to me."

"Why did you let my sister play the bait?" Ellana hissed.

"To prove that I was correct," Leliana stared Ellana down, "There will be attempts on the Herald's life. This is one we knew about, so I could make plans to keep the Herald safe. What about one that slips through my fingers? If he had been successful, but it had been you instead, you'd be dead. Any hopes of sealing the Breach would be lost."

"You had no right," Ellana snarled, eyes flashing, "You could've at least told us."

"E-Talitha," I murmured, "This is why I decided on this. I am glad it was me and not you."

Ellana glared at me, "So, you'll let her gamble with your life?"

"It's not a gamble," I shook my head, "I know what I signed up for. I am not helpless. I will not pass into death without a fight, but I would die to protect you."

"Then that settles it," Leliana interjected before Ellana could argue further, "I simply wished to inform you. Now you know. If you'll excuse me, I need to see about tracking down the man's connections to establish if he was acting alone or if he was part of a larger group."

"That doesn't settle it—" Ellana began.

I placed a hand on Ellana's shoulder, "Let it be."

Leliana entered her room and shut the door behind her. Ellana bristled at being dismissed and began grumbling in elven under her breath as I led her away. I opened the door to my room upon reaching it and gestured for Ellana to go inside. "Wait here, I need to go check on Solana." Ellana nodded, anger still in her eyes. I closed the door behind me as I left and let out a breath.

"No worries, Herald," Sera's voice spoke nearby, "Got an arrow for anyone else who tries."

"Thank you, Sera," I replied before making my way to Solana's room.

I knocked on the door, heard shuffling inside before she opened it a crack. "May I come in?" I asked. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks tear-streaked and splotchy. She nodded. I walked inside when she backed away and gently closed the door. "Are you alright?"

"No," she replied, her voice thick as she looked dejected, "I'm sorry, I did try to stay away from her. She walked in as we were discussing the rebellion and one comment she made set me off. I suppose I brought it upon myself but still...I want to tear her apart with my bare hands." 

"She certainly isn't afraid of being cruel," I offered.

"That's an understatement," Solana scoffed, wiping the tears from her face. "How dare she look down upon me, as if I ran from the Circle out of cowardice! That is not why I left. I could handle the templars, the abuse, the gilded cage. I would have tried to change things if I had no reason to leave."

"Why did you leave, then?" I asked, sitting on the bed beside her.

"I received word from my father shortly before everything happened at the tower that my mother's family had fallen apart, my mother had disappeared and Father was taking my siblings away from it all." I noticed then, that she held a well worn letter in her hands. "I ran to try and find them, to make sure they were safe."

"Your mother's family?"

"The Amells of Kirkwall," Solana stated, gauging my reaction, "Yes, those Amells. The same Amells that Hawke's mother belonged to; Hawke is my second cousin."

"I had wondered after reading Varric's book," I admitted, "You had four siblings, right?"

"Yes," she nodded, her eyes misting again, "Two brothers and two sisters. Fausten—named for my grandfather, Serena, Marcus and Selene. I am the eldest and the only mage, as far as I know."

"Were they in Kirkwall?"

"They were, but when I arrived, the only lead I could find was that they were going to try for Orlais," she murmured, "When I earned enough coin, I made my way there. I started in Val Royeaux, found a few leads that all fell through and didn't leave. I hoped that maybe they'd hear about my shop and come find me, but that never happened." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Wh-what if...what if they're dead? Or what if...they didn't want to find me?" A sob tore from her throat and she pressed the letter to her chest.

I curled an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me. "Don't give up hope, just yet. The world has been in chaos for years now, Solana. Perhaps the Inquisition can help locate your family. Between Leliana and Josephine, I believe we could find the answers you seek."

"I pray you are correct," she met my eyes, hope flickering amidst the despair. "I have to find them. No-no matter what the answer may be, I need to know."

"I will see what can be done when we return to Haven," I assured her. As she wiped at her eyes again, I held up a hand. "May I?" She nodded. I summoned healing and ice magic into the tips of my fingers and eased the puffiness of her eyes. "Please, get some rest, Solana."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Once, we were in our peace with our lives assured," a honey voice began to sing as a gentle strum played on a stringed instrument and the entire tavern fell silent once more. "Once, we were not afraid of the dark. Once, we sat in our kingdom with hope and pride. Once, we ran through the fields with great stride. We held the Fade and the demons' flight, so far from our children and from our lives. We held together the fragile sky to keep our way of life. Once, we raised up our chalice in victory.  Once, we sat in the light of our dreams. Once, we were in our homeland with strength and might. Once, we were not afraid of the night. We held the Fade and the demons' flight, so far from our children and from our lives. We held together the fragile sky to keep our way of life."

  The silence remained for a few heartbeats. Her song elicited a mixture of sorrow, homesickness, pride and hope. It tugged at scars within my chest, pricking at memories I had long since buried. I turned to find the minstrel. The woman stood next to the fireplace, waiting for a response.   The tavern broke out in applause, whistles and whoops which caused her to bow in thanks. Coins were tossed towards her, gaining another, deeper bow. The others pounded their goblets or tankards on the tables demanding another song.   My eyes caught on a movement in my peripheral just before I was being shoved towards a crowded table. I was pushed into a seat surrounded by an half-dozen others. Varric, Bull, Asaala, Rylen, Elizabeth, Henry, and Bethany all sat at the table. Cassandra dropped her plate in the single empty space and joined us.

"I-I was just waiting for my meal before retiring for the evening," I stammered before I started to get out of my chair, "If you'll excuse me—"

"—Sit, Commander," Bull grunted as he shoved me back into the chair with ease, "We've all been waiting for the chance to corner you."

I glared at each of them in turn. "I have a thousand things to do."

"Haven isn't much bigger than that tent you seclude yourself in when you're not barking at recruits or calibrating the trebuchets," Bull shook his head, an easy smile on his face, "I'm sure you've seen to your duties twice over to try and avoid coming in here."

  The qunari was frighteningly perceptive. He had to be since he was one of Seheron's spies. I could hardly believe he'd just admitted that to Ellana upon first meeting her and was willingly passing his Ben-Hassrath reports to Leliana to use as she pleased. Yet, the male seemed committed to the cause of the Inquisition and he was an excellent fighter on his own; but with him came the Chargers, who'd proven themselves a professional company and welcome source of morale boost for the recruits as they taught them skirmish techniques.   The company bantered and joked, eventually getting everyone around them to descend into laughter and antics. I'd had to hide a laughing fit a time or two as Bull and Krem went toe-to-toe in who could make the dirtier joke while they sparred. In some ways, I envied Bull's ability to keep his company in line while exuding a carefree manner. It was so paradoxical to what I had expected of the qunari.   He had almost another half of height on Asaala and twice the bulk. His horns were nearly as wide as his shoulders, one eye covered by a patch because he'd lost it in a brawl and his teeth were fanged like Asaala's upper and lower canines. He had a giant maul strapped down the column of his spine whenever he was going into the field and he fought like a maelstrom. No rhyme or reason, just brute force and chaos. Yet, he was relaxed, good-humored and almost childlike in some ways. I had a hard time reconciling the two parts of the male in my mind, but I liked him well enough.   The male had assured me, without my prompting, that the soldiers respected how I ran things and were loyal to me because of it. ‘They might groan and balk, but no more than a child against its parents to test boundaries—I might understand what that meant if Qunari had parents’, he'd added with a grin. I'd appreciated the thought, but doubted the truth. Too often the men tried to change the duty roster or play a prank on me. Bull had grinned, assuring me that those were signs of the men under me admiring their leader and doing their best to keep me level.   I already felt as if I had no idea how to do my job most of the time and when they did those things, it would trip me up. Yet, the soldiers seemed to move as efficiently as possible; the recruits learned quickly. The Maker has shown me this path for a reason.

"I haven't—that is...I have been very busy," I grumbled.

"We know that, Curly," Varric chuckled, "You still have to eat." The dwarf had shoved his empty plate away, busy scratching his quill on a piece of parchment. He'd been having trouble with a competing author stealing his works and was having Josephine look into it for him. Along with the many other pies he had his fingers in, I wasn't surprised by the stack of correspondence he had to see to regularly.

  "And we've all noticed how ye go out of yer way to avoid the tavern," Rylen chimed in before he took a swig from his tankard, "Makes yer Captain feel lonesome." I shot him a glare which made him smirk over his drink. Rylen had removed his armor, down to his tunic and leather breeches. He'd loosened his tunic and disheveled his hair. Between that and his tattoos the man looked positively rascally.

"I'd keep you company, Captain," Elizabeth purred before running a hand up Rylen's arm. Elizabeth, normally in her Seeker armor, had also dressed down. I had to look away from her and clear my throat. Her blouse left little to the imagination.

Rylen gave her a wolfish grin as he leaned towards her, "That may just patch up my wounded heart, lass."

  "I'd do more than patch it up," she murmured huskily, "I'd make it beat wildly while I have you on your back." They shared a heated glance for a moment before their eyes flicked to me. They both broke out in laughter.   "I think we've caused our Commander to go mute," Elizabeth chuckled as she leaned her elbows on the table.

  "I have to admit, I almost believed you this time," Varric sighed before he resumed scratching his quill on one of the several sheets of parchment before him. His russet eyes glanced to me.   "Might want to close your mouth, Curly. You do look a little dumbstruck with it hanging open like that."

I snapped my jaw closed and ground my teeth at the same time Cassandra made a disgusted noise in her throat before saying, "Why do you both insist on making every meal intolerable?"

"They enjoy the discomfort of others," Asaala's deep voice growled as she rolled her eyes at the pair. Finished with her food, the female had taken to sharpening her two-handed blade. As much of a help as she had been, I found Asaala terrifying. I could never tell if she tolerated me or wanted to gut me with her blade when her purplish eyes met mine. Thus far, I lived, so I thanked the Maker she hadn’t put her mind to the latter.

Rylen and Elizabeth mirrored each other as they made melodramatic gestures of being highly offended. "I beg your pardon, Adaar, but we do not," Elizabeth gasped.

"You do, Liz, and you know it," Henry teased as he tugged on a lock of her hair. Henry's dark tresses had grown out in the weeks since he'd joined us and he'd put some weight on. There was no denying the man was handsome as many eyes flicked to him throughout the tavern. 

Elizabeth's blue eyes locked on Henry. "Even my own brother betrays me. How will I go on?"

Rylen pulled Elizabeth into his arms. "I'll comfort ye, lass."

"You're both so annoying," Bethany huffed as she took another bite of her food, "Would you just get a room and get it over with?"

Rylen and Elizabeth separated a little and shared another glance, full of sadness. "They don't realize do they, lass?" Rylen pouted as he curled Elizabeth’s hair around an ear.

"No, Captain, they don't," Elizabeth sniffed.

"What's that?" Bull asked, fighting a smirk as he did, his single eye watching the pair with rapt amusement.

"Our hearts belong to the Commander and no one else will satisfy," they said in unison as their eyes met mine. The table roared with laughter, snorts and groans at my expense. I glowered at the pair, which only earned wicked smiles in response.

Bull smacked my shoulder which nearly knocked me out of my chair, "Ease up, Cullen. They're just trying to get under your skin, so you'll loosen up."

"I do not think it is working," I grumbled as I crossed my arms over my chest.

Bull boomed a laugh, "Probably not, but it's entertaining to watch."

"I'm so glad I can keep you amused, Bull," I groaned. The male smiled broadly before attacking his plate and drink.

  "So, Commander," Henry piped up, his sapphire eyes meeting mine. Strong jaw and nose. I had to force myself not to bristle at his voice as I recalled his finger upon Meira's face.   ‘Did she shy away?’ I blinked and fought down a smile. Yes, she practically curled into a ball when he touched her. Not that reveled in the probable why, but…it put me at some ease to know she shied from him. The thought of her lips caressing my cheek, her body pressed against mine came unbidden. Then she’d allowed me to press a kiss to her cheek, a slight tremble running through her as I had. And very much did not shy from me. I swallowed thickly, shoving the thoughts away.   "How did you become Commander? You were Knight-Commander in Kirkwall, right? How did you end up here?" Henry questioned.

  The rest of the table fell silent. Bethany, Cassandra, Varric and Bull all glanced my way, wearing various expressions of worry. Charismatic, but no tact. I shifted in my seat. Where in Andraste's name is Flissa with my food, so I can eat it as quickly as possible and leave? I glanced around, but saw no sign of her amongst the crowd.   I cleared my throat, "I was only acting Knight-Commander for a few years and the title had little meaning. I was transferred to Kirkwall after the Blight in Ferelden. Seeker Pentaghast sought me out after the Mage-Templar War began, seeking a military advisor for the Inquisition. Divine Justinia was setting the Inquisition in motion to help quell the fighting should the Conclave fail and in hopes of possibly challenging some of the tenets of the Chantry itself. I had given all I could to the Order and done my utmost to help get the city back on its feet, so when Seeker Cassandra came, I accepted her offer."

"And with you came the other templars? Came Rylen?" He quirked a dark brow at Rylen. He and I both nodded. Henry looked to Cassandra, "Why were you in Kirkwall, Seeker?"

  Cassandra scowled as she shot a glare at Varric, "The Inquisition needs a leader; an Inquisitor. Our top candidates were the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall. Both had shown tenacity under pressure and people respected them for their deeds which have shaped history. When we could not locate the Hero, we went in search of the Champion. That search led to Tale of the Champion and its infamous author, Varric." She spoke Varric's name with such venom, it made the dwarf smirk in response.   "I tracked Varric down in Kirkwall to find out if he knew where Hawke was, but he had no answers."

"That's putting it mildly," Varric muttered, "You dragged me into some dank room, threw me in a chair and interrogated me. When I didn't give you the answers you wanted, you kidnapped me, forced me on a boat and brought me to Haven."

"I wanted you to give your testimony to the Divine," she growled and then the fierceness fell from her face, "Now she's dead."

  I knew how deeply the Divine's death had shaken both Cassandra and Leliana, but I couldn't muster the same kind of devastation. I'd lost my trust in the Chantry after Kirkwall. My faith in Andraste and the Maker had never wavered, but I could no longer trust the entity that had forged me into a blade against others; that had chained me to it through addiction and fear. That had demanded so much—and more than I even knew—for so little in return.   Could Justinia have helped make the changes I now sought if she had lived? Possibly, but I felt in my soul that the Maker had intended for this to happen, for the Inquisition to be needed. Did I believe that Ellana was truly the Herald of Andraste? I honestly couldn't say. Had she arrived exactly when we needed her most? Yes; but wether that was truly the Maker's providence or simply bad luck on Ellana’s behalf, I was unsure.   I knew providence to be real, I didn't doubt Andraste or the Maker's ability. There was no sense as to why I was even alive—between Kinloch, Kirkwall, the aftermath of the Conclave's explosion, and now foregoing lyrium, I should have died—four times over. Yet, I lived. I lived when so many others had died. When others had died or suffered because of me.   I had no other explanation for that than the Maker had a plan for me and I would do everything I could to see it through. Wether Ellana was sent due to providence, or by circumstance and the Maker had surrounded her with the rest of us to guide and assist her on her current path, I could not decide.

After a pause, Henry cleared his throat. "And the rest of you? How did you come to be here? Iron Bull?"

  After Bull took a deep swig from his tankard, he belched so loud it drew the attention of the entire room. The Chargers cheered for him to which he stood and gave a sweeping bow. He sat back down with a huge grin.   "Asked to be hired. Inquisition's doing good work and we wanted to be a part of it. Knew there'd be good coin in it, too. Plus, I hear I’ll get to kill Vints." His single eye glimmered with humor at the last statement.

"Adaar?" Henry asked after a laugh.

The female qunari leaned back and crossed her arms. "The Divine hired my crew to act as third-party protection during the Conclave. To stop the mages and templars from killing each other. They all died. I stayed with the Inquisition to find their killer."

“I’m sorry about your crew and hope we do find who was behind it,” Henry nodded as Asaala, "Bethany?"

Bethany's eyes flicked to me, "Commander Cullen asked me if I wanted to join the Inquisition as a healer and leave the Circle behind. I accepted."

"What about your sister?" he probed, "You are Hawke's sister, are you not? Why didn't you stay with her?"

  Bethany shifted uncomfortably. "I am. I don't know where Marian is, so I couldn't stay with her even if I wanted. She went into hiding after everything in Kirkwall and felt I'd be safer in the Circle with Cullen being Knight-Commander. I haven't heard from her in months. I have no doubt she's safe; Marian was always good at getting both into and out of trouble. I figured it'd be safer for me to be among the Inquisition when Cullen offered so no one could use me to try and get to Marian," she glanced towards Cassandra.   "Beyond questioning me, anyway. Plus, it would allow me to help others."

Varric looked at the Trevelyan siblings. "Why are you two here and not with your respective organizations?"

  Elizabeth flipped her fiery hair over her shoulder. "I was tracking down some leads about the bandits in the Hinterlands. They felt it was more important for me to look into that than to attend the Conclave." Her blue eyes flicked to me.   "Our fine Commander captured me during one of the bandit raids on the farmers. I offered my help in taking them down and then decided to join the cause. Especially after hearing that the Lord Seeker has cracked."

Varric looked between Cassandra and Elizabeth. "Then, do you two know each other?"

The women exchanged a glance. Elizabeth shook her head. "I knew of Cassandra in name only, but we'd never met."

"And Henry?" Varric asked.

"I was with the rogue templars in the Hinterlands. I left when they began butchering their way across the hills. Elizabeth knew I was in the area because I'd sent her a letter a week before the Conclave," Henry smiled at his sister, "She tracked me down and smuggled me someplace safe until we figured out what to do with me. She continued her investigation until that raid. When she joined the Commander at the farmland, she told me to come. I did, saw what the Inquisition was doing and wanted to help."

"Well, we're just one big happy family, aren't we?" Rylen yawned, "I'm scunnered, going to turn in before I fall asleep at the table. 'Night." He patted Elizabeth's shoulder and gave a wave to the rest of us.

"Goodnight, Captain," worked its way around the table.

"I'm sorry this took so long, Commander," Flissa's voice apologized on my left as she set my plate down in front of me, "Had to butcher another chicken."

"That's alright, Flissa," I assured and pressed a few coins into her palm. She smiled and thanked me.

  I turned my attention to my plate. Roasted chicken, roughly mashed potatoes and stewed vegetables with a fluffy roll. As my stomach reminded me how hungry I was, I attacked my food.   The others carried on conversations around me. Bull and Asaala discussing two-handed weapon techniques and mercenary bands, the Trevelyans and Varric talking about the Free Marches, Cassandra and Bethany discussing books. I ate as quickly as I could and dismissed myself when I finished. The others bid me goodnight.

"Thanks for joining us, Cullen," Bull clasped my shoulder before I stood, "It'd be nice to see you in here more often."

"I'll do what I can," I offered. A knowing smile flashed on Bull's face, but he nodded.

"Enchanter, come to me. Enchanter, come to me. Enchanter, come to see," the minstrel's voice sang, my ears catching on the word "enchanter" as I made my way to the door of the tavern.

  The melody and the stringed instrument's music neared romantic as she sung those lines. It made my heart flutter in my chest. I turned back to the minstrel and listened to the rest of the song. Each time she sung those three lines, I thought of Meira.   I missed her. Missed her smile, her teasing, her warmth and steady presence. I was ready for her return, eager to hear what happened in Val Royeaux.   We'd received word that the Lavellan clan was a week away and we'd begun making preparations for their arrival. I worried for her. How would they react to her? How would she react to them?   I prayed for Andraste to give her the strength to face them; that whatever needed to happen to give Meira peace would occur. That she would allow me to be at her side to help her through it. ‘Touch her’. Will she let me hold her hand to comfort her? To hold her? To feel her soft curves in my arms, to rest my cheek against her hair, to smell her citrus and floral sent?   Would she want me to hold her? Would she enjoy it? Would she turn her face to me, stand on her tiptoes and press her lovely lips to mine? As she kissed me, would she tangle her hands in my hair, let me pull her closer to me, whisper my name?  

"Cullen," Elizabeth's voice called from behind me. Not the voice I wanted to hear. 

I was in my tent, starting to remove my armor. I desperately wanted the weight off my aching body. I bit back a groan, but turned. "Yes, Trevelyan?"

For once, her haughty demeanor was gone. Instead, she looked somewhat embarrassed and flustered. Her blue eyes refused to meet mine, she kept twisting her hands together and shifting on her feet. I thanked the Maker that she'd put a cloak on to cover her revealing clothing. "I-I...," she stammered.

Confused and a little worried, I turned fully to her. "What is it?"

  She huffed a breath, which caused the hair on her forehead to flutter up and then back down. She hesitated a moment, as if battling her own thoughts, before squaring her shoulders and meeting my eyes.   "Rylen told me about you and M-Talitha. I asked him why you...wouldn't be interested in me. I thought maybe it was because you prefer men." I opened my mouth to explain, but she held up a hand.   "After Rylen stopped laughing long enough to catch a breath, he assured me that was not the case. Blighter. Anyway, he told me that you've had feelings for her for...a long time." She looked me over.   "Don't be mad at Rylen, he didn't want to tell me, but I...may not have given him a choice."

  Her blue eyes held mine, waiting for an answer. Irritation bristled along my spine. "That was not his business to tell, but, um, yes. I care very deeply for her, Elizabeth. Sl-Sleeping with, um, you—n-no matter how...pretty you are—," my hand went to the back of my neck as heat flashed on my face at my stammering. Pull it together, Rutherford.   "It would only hurt you in the end. Even more than that, it would hurt M-Talitha," I stepped closer to Elizabeth and placed a hand on her shoulder, "It would...mean nothing to me."   Her gaze fell and hurt flashed on her face. I tipped her chin up, "It is not my intention to hurt you by saying that, Elizabeth. You should be with someone who wants you. Wants to be with you. Who enjoys being with you." A smirk pulled my lips.   "It may not be my place to say, but I'll say it anyway. You deserve more than just...um, sex. But—but if that's what you want, then find a man who's...who's excited to be with you."

  A sad smile curled her full lips, pulling on the scar below her left eye, "Thank you, Cullen." She wrapped her arms around my waist. Hesitantly, I hugged her back. She pulled away after a few seconds.   "I'm sorry...about before. At the farms, I mean. If...If I'd known, I wouldn't have...been so forward." Color bloomed on her cheeks.

I offered her a smile. "You don't need to apologize. I was...flattered, really. I just—I..." I looked away, trying to form the words I wanted to say.

"You love her, don't you?" she asked as her eyes scanned my face. 

"I do," I murmured.

"Does she love you?" she asked, genuinely curious.

  I rubbed the back of my head. "I…to be honest, I do not know. I hope she does. There's things that make me think she does, but I cannot say with any certainty." I placed my hands on my sword pommel. My face warming.   "What I do know is that I'm going to do all I can to show her how much I love her. I will do whatever it takes to win her heart; however long that takes." I thought of Henry for a moment.   "No matter who tries to get in my way."

Elizabeth laughed. "You don't have to make it sound as if you're marching into battle."

  I smirked, "Well, I am the Commander. Isn't everything I do supposed to be as if I am marching into battle?" Elizabeth laughed more, to which I chuckled in return. A thought occurred to me and, suddenly, sleep was forgotten.   "Elizabeth." Her sapphire gaze met my eyes. I gestured to a chair, "Could I ask you something?"

She sat after pouring herself some water from my pitcher into an extra goblet. "Of course."

I sat in my chair on the other side of the desk. "You were there that day, right?"

She chuckled, a red brow arching, pulling on her constellation of freckles. "You'll have to be more specific. What day are we talking about, precisely?"

I flushed at my blunder. "Apologies. The day M-Talitha was taken to the Circle."

She glanced around. "Are we supposed to talk about her...past? Since it's not technically her's anymore?"

"It is still her past," I growled, "I understand why what was done must happen, but I will not act as if she never...that her past never happened."

  Elizabeth hesitated a moment, took a drink from the goblet and twisted it between her palms. "Yes, I was there that day. Henry saw more of it though, so if you want the full story you should ask him." A thought flitted over her face.   "About Henry...and Talitha."

My hackles raised, but I bit out, "Yes?"

Her lips twitched. "I may have...oversold Henry's feelings for her. He was enamored with her that day, and talked about her often after. He even hoped to see her again to see how she was doing. But...he has no feelings for her. Romantically speaking."

"’Oversold’?" I smirked, trying not to reveal how relieved I was by the news. "Trevelyan, would you be trying to tell me that you lied?"

Elizabeth gave me a weak smile. "Maybe a little."

I let out a breathy chuckle. "Forgive me, if I admit I am relieved."

"I forgive you," she smiled broadly, "He cares for her, but as a friend. I suppose when you see someone suffer like that and intervene...they'll always carry a special place in your heart. When they met again, though, he realized he’d had feelings for the idea of her and not Talitha herself."

"Can you tell me what happened that day?" I asked, "She's told me a little, but I'd like your account."

  Elizabeth's normally jovial face fell. "It was awful. We were with our father, Brennon, he's a Knight-Commander. He was visiting another Knight-Commander named Greagoir. Old friends from training days. Father trained in Ferelden for a time before going back to Ostwick. We visited Ferelden every few years so father could visit with him. They were meeting at the local Chantry—Greagoir wanted to show Father some new training techniques or something. We were to have dinner later that evening. Father had sent Henry and I off to play," she smirked, "Well, I went to play, I think Father had an actual task in mind for us, but I don't remember now." Her face fell again.   "I heard a commotion in the market square, but didn't pay it any mind. That is until Henry ran up to me, grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowd." A haunted look crossed her face.   "The yells, the insults they threw…at a child. ‘Knife-ear, spellbind, trash, abomination’...those are the ones I can bring myself to repeat. They'd dragged her into the middle of the marketplace and formed a ring around her. They'd thrown rotten food, manure, mud...who knows what else." Tears glistened in her eyes when they met mine.   "Cullen, she just...stood there. She didn't fight, she didn't cry, she didn't even show fear. She was...skin and bones. In tattered rags covered in filth. A child. And she faced them down with more grace than I've seen in most adults." She cleared her throat, taking another drink.   "Henry and I stood at the front of the ring, paralyzed. He wanted to act, but wasn't sure what to do. Her silence, her determination not to show fear seemed to only flame their anger. Someone threw a rock. That caused her to cry out, a skeletal hand going to her face as blood oozed between her fingers, mingling with the muck." A shudder went through Elizabeth.   "When the others raised their hands to stone her, Henry bolted forward and I followed." A ghost of smile flitted on her lips.   "I want to try and sound like I was some valiant knight, but no one was more valiant than her. Henry and I locked our arms together and pressed her between us. The crowd hesitated. A few others came out and stood with us. Someone must have run off to get the templars because they came soon after, Greagoir at the front. He roared at the crowd and had the other templars disperse them quickly. When they were gone, Ne-Me—ugh, all these names are exhausting," Elizabeth sighed.   "Talitha collapsed. Greagoir himself wrapped her in a blanket and scooped her up. He offered his apologies to Father, saying he'd need to see to her and they'd have to have dinner another evening."

Meira. How much pain have you endured in your life? My heart hurt to think of her like that. How afraid she must have been. "That...I—I can't even imagine. For a child to endure something like that."

"We got to see her the next day," Elizabeth continued, "She’d been bathed, clothed and fed. She was wary, as you'd expect. We introduced ourselves and talked with her some. She warmed up to us when she remembered that we were the ones who stepped in, even gave us a hug. We asked her name, she hesitated, but eventually murmured ‘Neria’. There was pain on her face when she said it...now I guess I know why."

Elizabeth fell silent, her own face full of emotion. "Was it that day that made you want to join the Seekers?" I asked.

"I wanted to be a templar after that day. We were always destined to join the Chantry in some fashion. Templars, seekers or as members of the clergy," she explained, "I'd never wanted to be a part of it until I saw the templars in action that day. My Father felt I was better suited to the Seekers of Truth, however, so he made sure that's where I ended up. Henry, on the other hand, became a templar."

  We began talking about the Seekers and the Order. Elizabeth told me tale after tale of her time amongst the Seekers of Truth. We shared laughs, debated about how things should be changed and even talked about Kirkwall a bit. I found her easy to talk to, intelligent and caring.    Before we even realized it, morning had come. We both stood from our seats, Elizabeth stretching and I going to the water basin to splash my face. I'd discarded my armor at some point in the evening and began putting it on as Elizabeth fixed her own clothing, mussed from sitting in a chair for so long. She approached me, placing a hand on my arm.

”I wish you luck with her, Cullen,” she murmured, “I will do what I can to help you succeed.”

I tapped under her chin with a knuckle. “I appreciate that, Elizabeth.”

"Com-Commander?" a voice squeaked. 

I glanced over to find Minaeve standing at the open tent flap. Her large, brown eyes were flicking between Elizabeth and I. Color bloomed in her cheeks, the reports she held in her hands quivering as she shook. I opened my mouth to greet her, but Elizabeth spoke first.

  "Thanks for the wonderful evening, Cullen," Elizabeth smiled before she smoothed her hair and headed for the exit.   "See you at the tavern later?" she asked over her shoulder. She didn’t wait for my reply as she greeted Minaeve and slipped out. Minaeve stood rooted in her spot.

  Minaeve's eyes followed Elizabeth for a while, so I cleared my throat, "Minaeve?" The small elf's body startled at the sound of my voice. Her grip on the reports tightened before her eyes met mine. They were full of rage. I'd never seen Minaeve be anything beyond timid and reserved, unless she was discussing her findings. I blinked.   "Is something wrong?"

  Her eyes continued to burn me with her anger until she finally spoke, "Nothing, Commander. I had some new information for you and your troops about how best to deal with the bears in the Hinterlands that I wanted to go over with you. However, you seem to be otherwise distracted, so I'll just leave the reports for you to go over in your own time."   In a huff she walked over to the desk and slammed the stack down on top. She started back towards the tent opening, but turned sharply before leaving.   "I hope you had a wonderful evening too, Commander." At that, she left.

This man deserved so much better in Veilguard.

It was muscle memory and I loved every bit of it.

Talk to Corporal Vale. Talk to the people around the Crossroads and rack up quests. Make a trip to Redcliffe to have the guard tell you she's been ordered to keep the gate closed. Cut through the Witchwood and the Gully to get to the river near Dennet's land to avoid some of the tediousness of the fights. Skirt around that ridiculously hard rift. Make camp. Talk to Dennet. Talk to Elena. Go defeat the demon and the possessed wolves. Talk to Bron. Talk to Senna. Place the markers for the watchtowers on the farm and then work my way back to the Crossroads via the West Road hitting a couple of the smaller templar camps along the way. Get the final watchtower near Fort Connor. Drop off mutton with the hunter and return to Haven to get Solas to shut up (for some reason it’s always him in my saves that pushes to go to Val Royeaux after I get enough power points). Next will be a short stint in Haven to tick off most of the quests there, and then Val Royeaux before the Hinterlands grind.

I've missed this game. I don't get all the hate for the Hinterlands. Yes, it's long and tedious at times, but it's the "coziest" portion of the game to me. Nostalgic. But it's also the only time where the Mage-Templar conflict takes center stage in the game and I love that. Plus, it's the time that "humanizes" everything (for lack of a better way to explain it). It breathes life into the story and sets the foundations for the rest of it. Helps to start give shape to the "why". I love it to pieces.

Also...why are all the Fereldan men so fine? The hunter, Corporal Vale, Recruit Whittle, Bron, even Dennet would’ve been back in his prime? And it goes without saying Cullen, Alistair, and even Carver. I get the feeling the Maker has a favorite nation as well...