The Arcane Archive

We climbed the stone steps out of the courtyard to find Cassandra staring down the remaining templars while Vivienne inspected her nails and Varric wiped down Bianca. The templars were talking amongst themselves, but Barris turned to us upon our setting foot on the landing. He jogged to meet us, Abernache on his heels. They must have rescued the man as they swept for survivors once they'd recovered from breaking the barrier.

Barris opened his mouth to speak, but Abernache beat him to it. "Herald! I sincerely apologize for losing countenance amidst the chaos. That was… unfortunate," he hung his head. "I do hope it won’t affect our concord."

I bristled at the man's words, feeling them as if they were my own, but Meira simply nodded. "Don't worry, you're needed," she stated before turning to Barris in a clear sign of dismissal to the nobleman.

Abernache's shoulders slumped as he murmured, "Wonderful."

Meira hadn't raked him over the coals for his behavior as she could have, but her mercy had delivered a blow to his pride all the same. The same mercy she had extended to me. I clenched my jaw, tightening my hands on the pommel of my sword as they shook with a tremor.

Turning my eyes from the nobleman, they landed on Barris. The man was exhausted, but he stood tall before Meira - shame, humility, determination and a thirst to prove himself in his countenance. "The demon is dead. Andraste be praised: she shielded you from its touch. We’ve numbers across Thedas, but we let this happen. Our officers either failed to see it or were complicit. The templars are ready to hear what the Inquisition needs of us."

Meira looked over the templars, thoughts playing out behind her eyes as she carefully chose her words. "There was corruption here. But also, I see valor and honor in each of you who stood fast. Rise tall again. Help the Inquisition seal the Breach before it swallows us all."

Her words made me stand a little taller myself. Could I rise tall in her eyes once more?

I watched as Barris straightened to his full height, clasping his hands behind his back. "You speak truths we should never have ignored. But the Order is leaderless, gutted by betrayal. We must rebuild it." He looked to Meira in question: he wanted her to answer if they could rebuild or if they needed to join the Inquisition as they were. He was laying the Order's future at her feet. As I was about to protest that the decision should not be hers alone, she spoke. 

"That is not a decision for me to make alone, Ser Barris," Meira shook her head. "I am not the Inquisition. Instead, I feel that should be discussed between myself, you, Commander Cullen and Seeker Cassandra." 

Barris flicked his eyes to me before looking back to Meira. "All due respect, Herald, but you are the one who had faith in us, who helped us succeed. We would gladly follow your direction."

It was true. Though my respect for Barris had only grown through observing his conduct, I had been quick to blame them all for their inaction and complacency in following orders they knew were strange. As if I were one to judge. Cassandra was practically foaming at the mouth for the Order's blood.

Cassandra approached us at Barris's words, her brow furrowed and lip curled. "While I understand your allegiance, Ser Barris, we are talking about either allowing you to rebuild away from our eye—where you could easily fall prey to corruption once more—or dismantling the Templar Order as we know it and having it join the Inquisition." 

"Weighty paths, neither of which should be taken lightly or decided at the whim of one person alone," Meira interjected before she turned to me. "What do you think, Commander?"

Maker, this woman is more than I deserve. After my display, she would still trust my judgment?

I wanted to take her somewhere private and kiss her breathless; to beg her forgiveness for my cowardice. Yet, the shame still twisted my gut, even more so as she asked my opinion. I could hardly bring myself to look at her, feeling unworthy of the mercy and kindness she had shown me when I was the reason she had suffered again. I took a moment before I met her eyes. She was standing tall, looking composed and confident as she awaited my answer. I had worried for her when she'd cried out at the demon's voice in her mind, feeling as her mana writhed sporadically in response to her pain and fear. Now, she felt calm and her mana at peace.

"I agree with the Herald. It is not her decision to make alone."

Cassandra turned to me, her lip curling even more as she prepared to argue, but Meira raised a hand as she cut Cassandra off. "Perhaps we can discuss this more privately?" Meira nodded towards the other templars who were nervously murmuring to each other. "Ser Barris, if you would." Meira gestured for us to follow her as she walked some distance from the crowd. I noticed that she refused to go close to where Envy had burned away.

Cassandra held in her words until Meira stopped, rounding on Barris. "Officers betraying their soldiers, templars without leaders, a demon imitating the Lord Seeker… We should take you to task. The crimes that have been committed—"

"Were committed by their officers," I argued. Despite my anger with their inaction, I understood it well enough. Templars were soldiers first; trained to follow orders which we did not question. I had questioned and it had cost me. Then, I had followed blindly, and it had cost me even more. I knew these men and women were eager to prove themselves worthy of the titles they held, of the tenets they represented. Barris was eager to represent the Order that should be, not the Order that had come to pass. "The soldiers of the Order will serve, will they not, Ser Barris?" Barris offered a salute in response.

"Before we decide anything," Meira stated, "I have some questions." We all looked to her, but she was focused on Barris. "Envy claimed to serve the 'Elder One'. Just like your knight-captain." Who is this Elder One? The Venatori Ser Dorian had warned us about claimed to serve him. Now the templars had fallen prey to one of his servants?

Barris looked alarmed. "Maybe it was to do with the war with the mages, but...I don't know anymore. That is all above me."

"When did the Lord Seeker start taking over?" Meira cocked her head, her brows knitting. She is so beautiful.

"I'm shamed whatever I say," Barris's shoulders fell as his features twisted in bitterness. "If he was fake at the start, we let a demon walk in. If he was genuine, Envy took the Lord Seeker from under our noses. Who knows how long the knight-vigilant has been dead? The knight-captain 'relayed' his orders."

"I need to understand how you could accept the use of corrupted lyrium," Meira demanded, though her voice was gentle as she searched his face. "Your superiors using it or no." 

"We didn’t know it was corrupted," Barris met her eyes, his own earnest. How could they not know? I thought everyone knew after Kirkwall. I sent letters to the other Knight-Commanders. Unless... Templars did not like to admit weakness. Had they somehow covered up the events in Kirkwall? Blamed Meredith's downfall on something else? Or had the rebellion covered up the incident through sheer chaos? "The Lord Seeker only said it was better than Chantry lyrium."

"That’s it?" Meira quirked a brow. That's all it would take for some.

"You have to understand," Barris implored. "All magic is corruptible, all magic is dangerous, and yet all magic can serve. The red lyrium was just a tool. Or so we thought." 

Cover up or no, they knew something was wrong with the red lyrium. I thought of the copied manifest I had found, and the note scrawled at the bottom. "I refuse to believe that you did not hear—" I cut myself off as Meira looked to me, unable to meet her eyes. What would she think of me? To know that I wanted for lyrium so badly that it sang to me? 

"Didn't hear the song?" she murmured in continuation.

My gaze snapped back to her, my brows raising in surprise. "You...you heard it?" I questioned, hardly daring to believe. What does that mean? 

"It was dark and enticing but changed to something truly sinister when the others attacked," she explained. 

"Lyrium...sings to you?" Cassandra asked as she glanced between Barris and I, concern on her face.

"To...some yes," I cleared my throat. "The red lyrium seems to be particularly...loud." I met Meira's eyes, finding a question there, but she didn't voice it as she looked away.

"I never got close enough to the stuff to hear it," Barris admitted. "Those who'd begun to use it were kept separate and the rest of us were being worked to the bone on the Lord Seeker's order. To help 'strengthen' us. Training and duties were doubled. Not only were we not allowed to ask questions, but we were also kept so busy and exhausted that we couldn't." 

Would they have fought if they had seen what became of those who were using it? The outcome of today told me enough. Barris and those who followed him would have fought to their deaths if they had known. Why had the man not mentioned this in his letter? I would have urged a swift response if I'd known. But he'd told me: he was following orders. I gripped my sword hard. Would there comes a day where that was not an excuse for good men in uniform to do nothing? Where being a templar meant you protected and served, even if it meant disobeying your superiors?

I watched as Meira thought for a moment. "I think we need to investigate further before we come to any decisions." She looked to Barris. "No matter what, you and your men will assist us in sealing the Breach. Collect what provisions you can, see to your dead, and question your men to see if they have any further information. We will return in a few hours."

Barris offered another salute before returning to the other templars. Meira looked between Cassandra and I. "The Order is in chaos," she began, "We have to give it a plan before we leave or risk losing it entirely."

"What we found in the captain’s quarters means the officers willingly blighted half their knights with red lyrium," I growled, anger hot in my chest at everything that had happened.

"Even before some of them realized the Lord Seeker was replaced by a demon," Cassandra added.

"There's more," Meira stated, shifting on her feet as her face fell. "While I was in the Fade with Envy, it revealed some of this Elder One's plan—or possible plan, anyway. Who knows how much of it was truth and how much of it was simply to..." She took a deep breath as she shut her eyes tight. Oh, my darling. I wanted to take her in my arms and comfort her. Yet, how could I provide her comfort when I had failed to protect her in the first place? She continued after a moment. "The Conclave and the Breach were only the beginning. Empress Celene assassinated. A demon army. Envy was going to use my face to summon this demon army; as for Celene's murderer, I could find no more. There is a bust of her in the Lord Seeker's quarters along with several stacks of parchment. Perhaps there is more information among his things?"

I grimaced as I recalled the templar's words as he tried to pour red lyrium down my throat. "There is also the matter of Samson." 

Meira looked to me, a brow quriked. "Samson?"

I met her eyes briefly, the shame hitting me again as I noticed her exhaustion. I looked to Cassandra as I spoke. "One of the corrupted templars mentioned Samson, said he 'sends his regards'. Samson was a templar in Kirkwall until he was expelled. We shared quarters briefly while I was there. I lost track of what happened to him after the chaos following the Chantry explosion. We must find out if this Samson is one and the same."

"I say we follow the Herald's suggestion and investigate the Lord Seeker's quarters," Cassandra stated. She looked to me. "Do you want to assist Barris?"

I looked at them both briefly and shook my head. I did not want to leave Meira's side, despite my shame, and I was too angry with the templars to stay amongst them. Angry at myself for understanding all too well their predicament and relating to it. Fearful as well of what being around so many who'd just been freshly dosed with lyrium would do to me. "No. I fear I...may be too angry to be of much help to them."

"Are we sure they will be all right on their own? They have no leaders," Meira murmured as she glanced over them.

"Are you asking me to stay with them, Herald?" I questioned, my voice harsher than I meant it to be. Was she wanting me away from her? I'd hardly blame her if she did.

She blinked as she looked at me, surprise and hurt on her face. Maker, Rutherford. I couldn't look at her, so I looked at a point past her. "N-no, Commander, I was...let's go," she spoke softly and turned her back on me. Now I've done it. She'd been worried for me, but I, ashamed of myself, what do I do?

...

Vivienne and Varric elected to stay with the templars to help them see to whatever they needed and to keep an eye on them. Meira led the way to the Lord Seeker's quarters. I noticed she fought a shiver as she looked around the destroyed office. I followed her gaze. The writing on the wall was essentially nonsense, but as we approached the cluttered table, we each took a section of the scattered parchment to begin going through it. I felt my stomach rumble and could hardly believe I was hungry in the aftermath of all that had taken place, so I ignored it.

As we perused the letters, notes and reports, Meira told us what had happened to her in the Fade and what the demon had shown her of the Inquisition's fate at its hands. Cassandra and I voiced our fury and revolt at what she had witnessed. I could tell she was holding something back as she spoke, her eyes not meeting mine and rarely meeting Cassandra's at her recounting, but I didn't push her. We'd fallen into silence as we read the contents of the table. Most of the paperwork I had to sift through was nonsense, but I found a letter that caught my eye.

Whatever comes, follow the instructions in the shipment to the letter. The officers know what they've signed on for, but don't start all the knights on red lyrium at once. Use the amounts we've parceled out; give them medicine for the pain. They need to be ready to fight again soon enough.

These are your people now, "Lord Seeker". Be a better master to them than the Chantry. If I hear differently, you'll answer to the one we both serve.

S.

"Cassandra," Meira called. "Look at this."

Cassandra made her way over to Meira, her face becoming livider the longer we were in this room. She took the small note from Meira's hand, and I watched as her face blanched. "Please tell me this is a ruse by Envy," she murmured.

"What is it?" I asked, Meira's eyes glancing at me briefly as I looked up from the letter, as if she were afraid of being caught. Maker, Rutherford. You're going to have to assure her that all is well.

"It-I...Sweet Andraste," the Seeker swore. "Unless this is a deceit by the demon...the Lord Seeker...may have been complicit in Envy's scheme."

"What?" I barked. Is there nothing and no one in Thedas that is not touched by corruption?

"We can't know for sure; it may have been written by the demon or by this Elder One that delivered the Lord Seeker to Envy," Meira stated. "This...doesn't look good."

I looked to Cassandra, who was having a hard time deciding whether she was livid or devastated, before returning to the letter in my hand. "What I've found isn't much better," I growled. "The letter is signed 'S', but it sounds like Samson. If it is him, he was aware of the imposter, aware of what red lyrium would do to the templars. He claimed to serve the same master as the imposter Lord Seeker."

"And we have this," Meira gestured to Celene's bust that had a dagger stabbed through her face.

"We...we need to get back to Haven," Cassandra stated, worry coloring her words. "As soon as possible. We need to send messages ahead to Leliana and Josephine. They need to have people looking into these leads."

"I doubt the corrupted templars left any messenger birds alive," I voiced. "In fact, I fear they may have killed any means of escape or asking for aid." If I had been their leader, that's what I would have instructed. Maker, what does that say about me?

"What do you mean?" Meira asked her eyes meeting mine for the first time.

"The red doesn't stop for the innocent," A voice spoke before a boy appeared on the table. His voice became agitated as he continued to speak. "I can smell their fear, see it in their eyes as I tear them apart—their blood only feeds the song." He was playing with a dagger as he looked to Meira. "Hello, Meira."

"Maker," I proclaimed, stepping around the table as I unsheathed my sword and pointed it at the boy, Cassandra doing the same. Abomination. He's an abomination. 

"Wait!" Meira shouted as she stepped between us and the boy. We hesitated but kept our swords drawn.

The boy met my eyes. His own staring, as if he could see to my soul. "Just because it was what you would have done, doesn't mean you're red inside. You're a templar—were a templar—you can't help how they trained you to think." How-how on...how did he...I realized I was stammering, but the boy turned away from me and back to Meira. "I didn't leave. I've been helping. They just weren't ready to see me. Besides, they know your secret, the others don't."

"That's fine, Cole," Meira assured, a smile on her face and her eyes warm as she looked at the creature. "You just startled us, appearing out of thin air. Could you please get off the table. though?" What in the Maker's name?

"I wasn't air, I was here," Cole looked confused, but obliged Meira as he climbed off the table. "You didn't see me. Most people don't until I let them." I caught Meira's smile and quiet chuckle before returning my attention to the demon.

"This creature is not what you—" Cassandra began.

"Abomination." I corrected.

"Cole saved my life in the Fade," Meira interjected, her eyes flashing slightly. Cassandra and I glanced at each other. This...thing saved her life? Unease pooled in my gut as I studied the creature, but if he had truly helped her—

"And Purpose helped, too," Cole added as he met my eyes. Demon. He turned to Meira. "He says hello as well." Who—what—is Purpose? Cole looked at each of us in turn. "You help people. You made them safe when they would have died. I want to do that. I can help."

Meira cocked her head, amused. "Why and how would you help the Inquisition?"

"The hole in the sky is too loud for spirits to think. It’s pulling, pushing out pain. I want to stop it," Cole straightened. Hole in the sky? Too loud for spirits? Pain? I was utterly confused by the boy's words, but Meira seemed to understand exactly what he was saying. 

"How altruistic of you," Cassandra growled at the creature.

"I want to help," Cole pleaded. "I can be hard to see. I can kill things that would hurt people. I won’t get in the way."

"I couldn't have defeated Envy without him or Purpose," Meira stated to Cassandra who was glaring at Cole.

"But what does he want now?" she demanded.

"I think he really is trying to help," Meira said, softly. That seemed to be all the answer the boy needed.

"I won’t be in the way. Tiny, no trouble, no notice taken unless you want them to," Cole said, excitedly.

"You’re not honestly suggesting we give him run of the camp?" I questioned. Meira may have trust in him, but he was...not human whatever his appearance. Meira turned to say something to me, but Cole disappeared. Oh, wonderful. 

"Where did he go?" Cassandra asked, her voice wavering.

"It's a good trick. You get used to it," Meira smirked, seeming to find the whole situation humorous.

"You said he...helped you in the Fade?" I questioned as I sheathed my sword. "You didn't mention that before."

"I...intended to keep Cole secret—and Purpose for that matter. How they helped me...I will be forever grateful to them both," She couldn't quite meet my eyes. My darling, I am sorry. "I wasn't keeping them secret for...deceitful reasons. I just didn't feel it was pertinent information. What they helped me overcome had nothing to do with the Inquisition."

"They are...demons?" Cassandra questioned.

"No," Meira shook her head. "Spirits. Purpose kept calling Cole 'Compassion'; I think Cole is more complex than simply a spirit, but it is above my knowledge."

"You had...spirits help you while you were trapped in the Fade by Envy?" I questioned. I wanted to understand. I wanted to not be afraid, wanted to trust her, but all I knew of the Fade was demons. I knew there was more occupants, but the benevolent spirits were not as powerful as the malevolent ones.

She met my eyes, her gaze hard as her chin jutted just slightly. "Yes."

"And that didn't...frighten you?" I quirked a brow. I wanted the answer to that question, but I was also secretly enjoying her defensive and stubborn responses to me. So rarely did she show those sides of herself, when she did, I found it...hypnotic. 

"They are not malicious," she crossed her arms over her chest, her agitation with me growing as she narrowed her eyes. "I could sense their intent. Purpose is the spirit that saved me from death, from Tranquility, Cullen; lest you forget." At her words, I flinched. She is upset with me. I've blundered again. "Cole kept me whole in the wake of Envy's...manipulation. Together, they helped me navigate the Fade and escape. I daresay you owe a thanks to both of them." She glared at Cassandra and I, silencing our arguments. "That aside, Cole may have confirmed what we feared. If everything is gone, we must return to South Reach for supplies. But first, we need to decide what we're doing with the Order."

"The corruption fell top down," I stated, pushing aside thoughts of my siblings at the mention of South Reach. "Those who survived were not privy to what was happening. They seem eager to serve, to prove themselves and to rebuild the Order as it should be."

"Lyrium is at the heart of this. How else would they have fallen prey to this demon so easily?" Cassandra scowled as her eyes fell on me. "Perhaps we need to eliminate the Order; cleanse it of lyrium and rebuild in a way that lyrium and templars are no longer synonymous." 

Not now, Cassandra. She knew how I hoped the Inquisition would be able to eliminate lyrium from the Order—if it could be done. Cassandra was somehow able to use templar abilities without taking lyrium; in her laid the answers I sought. Now was not the time, however. We could not have the few remaining members of the Order going through withdrawal—possibly dying—prior to closing the Breach. We needed to take care of the current priority and then address lyrium. 

"A demon and it's master were at the heart of this," I argued. "The templars will need lyrium to face the Breach."

"The Order is a symbol that holds the people's respect," Meira stated, "That cannot die today. Would that respect not grow if people knew that the new Order was founded and rebuilt by those who most embodied the tenets of their Order? They can rebuild within the Inquisition, with our support, input, and guidance because we allowed them to remain. If we ask them to dismantle and become a part of the Inquisition, are we not potentially painting ourselves as power-hungry tyrants?" Meira's words were wise and I agreed wholeheartedly.

"Surely, the Inquisition should get some kind of benefit for saving them from themselves? I know Leliana would have suggestions," Cassandra argued. "Not only that, but can we truly trust the men and women here who stood by as the Order rotted from the inside out?"

"All due respect to Sister Nightingale, she seeks the benefit of the Inquisition above all else right now," Meira crossed her arms over her chest once more. "I admire her devotion, even her cunning, but this is not the place to put the Inquisition ahead of Thedas itself. I know everyone who has joined the Inquisition's cause did so because they wish to see change. I agree, completely, but converts are not won with blood and force—just look at the Chantry's past mistakes. You want people to believe in the Inquisition? To join us? To back us? Show that we are a force to be reckoned with, but one that can also be reasoned with; that we give those who fail a second chance when they earn it, just as the templars who stood with Barris have. I saw what the Inquisition could become through fear alone. I will not allow it. Would you Seeker? Commander?" Her eyes seared into the both of us, her words ringing with truth.

Cassandra and I paused for a moment, looking at each other. "No," we answered in unison as we met Meira's gaze.

"Then we make our terms plain," Meira stated, her shoulders dropping in relief.

"What would you suggest?" I asked, resting my hands on my pommel.

Meira thought for a moment. "First, I would have them as our allies."

"Allies? After what they've done here?" Cassandra argued.

"They didn't commit these crimes, Cassandra, it was their officers," I shook my head.

Meira scowled. "Allies, but we are to be involved in the rebuilding of the Order—and it is to be rebuilt. From the foundation."

"I can agree to that," Cassandra nodded. "Who would lead them?"

"I would recommend Barris," I offered. "The man has proven himself a capable leader and trusted amongst his brethren."

"I agree," Meira nodded. "Barris is to be acting leader until more critical decisions need to be made after the Breach has been sealed. The Inquisition is to choose the new Knight-Commander when that time comes."

"So long as the choice is made due to the person's merit and benefit that they will bring to the Order and not the Inquisition," I voiced, "I will agree to that. The Order needs to be free of all their leashes both past and future."

Meira nodded before continuing. Her eyes were beginning to linger longer upon me, that warmth returning to them. Focus, Rutherford. "Those who have committed the most heinous crimes within the Order are to be judged by the Inquisition, their consequences what we see fit. That may mean delivering them back to the Order for further judgment or it may not."

"I agree," Cassandra nodded. "And I voice now of wanting the same for the Seekers if they are proven to have fallen to corruption."

"If the templars join as free agents, they are to govern themselves—we will not coddle them—but they answer to us," Meira continued. "We will send them on assignments that come to the Inquisition's attention that require templars and they will answer."

"Sounds fair," I nodded.

"We will provide for their initial needs as theirs have been eradicated: grounds for them to stay, food, weapons. We will supply lyrium as well. They are not allowed to establish their own supply lines until they have proven themselves trustworthy again," she stated.

I agreed with her terms, wanting nothing more than to take her into my arms and kiss her for her wisdom. I was ready for this to be over, for us to be able to sneak away, but would she come? Would she still want me after today? I was growing impatient to be with her. "Anything else?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

She stared me down, clearly agitated with my short temper. "I want Barris as the templar ambassador when the time comes. Together, he, Talitha and the Inquisition will rebuild the Order and the Circles."

We both looked at Meira, saying nothing for a few moments. Cassandra saluted her. "As you say, Herald."

"So long as change is coming for both the Order and the mages," I nodded. "Your terms sound fair. I see no reason why they would refuse. They would be fools to do so."

Meira met my eyes, a fire in her own. "You know I desire change for both; change is needed for both. If it does not come, we will be here again before long."

"Indeed," I nodded.

"Let's go speak with Barris," Cassandra nodded.

…

"We could hardly turn away such an offer," Barris spoke once Meira had finished listing off the terms of our alliance, stating that we would get it in writing upon our return to Haven. "You've not ordered us to disband, and you are allowing us to aid the Inquisition where perhaps we can regain the people's respect. I look forward to this partnership," Barris nodded. "I need assurance that my brothers and sisters will follow." He left us where we stood to address his fellow templars. 

As Barris explained the terms to the others, I felt Meira's eyes on me. I avoided looking at her, knowing I wouldn't be able to look away. I knew I was being somewhat cold and short tempered with her; a mixture of my shame and my want to speak with her making my patience wear thin. I had to keep my distance, as she was the Herald and I her Commander.

My fear had subsided, but exhaustion and pain were coming in full force now as the events of the day caught up with me. I wanted nothing more than to talk with her; to listen to her soothing voice; to kiss her soundly. The thought of her pinned between me and the door in the inn in South Reach came and a fire began to burn in my gut. Would she let me kiss her like that again?

"Do we take the Inquisition’s terms, brothers and sisters?" Barris asked the others. The responding cheer was near deafening as we approached the crowd. Barris turned back to Meira. "The templars will come. I hope your stronghold is ready."

A smirk pulled Meira's lips. "Oh, don't worry. I think we're expecting company." At that, I saw the slightest hint of a smile on Barris's face. Maker, Andraste, guide us to rebuild the Order to what it should be.

…

We spent the remainder of the daytime discussing our plan for returning to Haven and dealing with the Breach. It was decided that the templars would follow us within a few days. They were to gather any useful resources from the fortress once Barris saw to order. Upon our return to South Reach, I would send the garrison of Inquisition soldiers that would be established by now to aid in performing a sweep of the area for any remaining corrupted templars.

Once those decisions had been made, we saw to the dead. So many had been killed; the nobles not without their share of losses. Pyres were built and set ablaze as rites were performed. With that seen to, Cassandra and I had gone down to where we had left the horses. They all lay slaughtered before us; the coaches of the nobles destroyed. Cassandra cursed the corrupted templars as we began picking through the gore. Dennet would no doubt be bitter over such a needless loss of some of his horses—a sentiment I shared.

Thankfully, Meira's disguise had survived unscathed, along with most of Cassandra, Vivienne and Varric's things. I did not come away as lucky and I laughed bitterly at what had survived. The Maker has a sense of humor. My elderflower salve and oakmoss elixir that were to help with the pain of withdrawal had both been destroyed; but the box that held the tools to prepare my rations of lyrium sat perfectly intact along with the wax for my hair.

We gathered everything useful and made our way back to the fortress. Dropping off their things, I checked to see if any messenger birds lived, but all were dead. With any means of transportation or communication destroyed and the fear corrupted templars may still lurk nearby, it was decided we would stay the night at the fortress—much to our displeasure. We'd see to any last-minute needs Barris had and depart at dawn to make our way back to South Reach where we were to restock and send out messages. Vivienne would stay behind to await the Inquisition soldiers who would accompany the remaining nobles back to the city.

We aided the templars in setting up a camp within the first courtyard and the room where we had met the knight-captain. Things had been cleaned, the dead removed and there was no red lyrium growing nearby. We would have to figure out how to destroy and remove the lyrium, but for now Barris and I had commanded that no one go near it. Meira and Vivienne had used magic to move the bodies of the corrupted templars so that they could be burned as fire seemed to have an effect on the substance. Denam was being kept chained in a room under constant guard until the Inquisition could bring him to Haven for judgment.

I watched Meira as she assisted the templars in setting up tents and laying out bedrolls, she unaware of how they studied her, Andraste's Herald, in awe. If they had been in doubt before, her actions and offer of an alliance had removed it. I was beginning to believe that the Maker had sent both Ellana and Meira; had placed them in Haven when they would be most needed. Meira was proving herself wise and capable while Ellana had become more devoted to the cause of the Inquisition than even some of its initial members. I prayed for them both, hoping that they would continue to follow the Maker's guidance.

Major priorities seen to, the templars raided their stores for food. Finding cheese and hard biscuits to pass around, they saw that all got a share. Despite what they had just endured, the nobles still found a way to complain about the food, causing me to roll my eyes. Water had been drawn, ladles and buckets being passed around as everyone sat by the fires that had been lit. Meira sat with Varric and Cassandra. Vivienne had retired to her tent soon after eating.

I had been talking with Barris and a few of the other templars about everything that had happened. They turned to talking about training days and foolery as initiates. Despite the circumstances of the day, they found reasons to laugh in remembrance of the brothers and sisters who had fallen. Barris's face turned bitter once more. I clasped the man's shoulder and told him I understood and the Inquisition would do all it could to help him and the others right this wrong.

"So long as we see those red monsters ended," he seethed, "Those things disgrace everything the Order should be. I fear the Herald did not see us at our best and yet...she decided to work with us? It is...beyond me."

"She is a wise woman," I offered. "She understands what the Order represents to the people of Thedas."

"But she's a mage. An elf. A Dalish elf at that—they don't even have templars," Barris voiced. "Why would she keep us around? no matter what the Order means to Thedas?"

"Because she's no fool," I explained. "She knows what would happen if she—if the Inquisition—were to abolish the Order. We would become an object of fear and distrust."

The man studied me a moment. "You trust her, then?"

"I do," I assured. "She has proven herself trustworthy in the time I have worked with her. Her origins aside, she is levelheaded, shrewd, but above all she's committed to the cause of the Inquisition, its people, and the people of Thedas. Though she could use the power and influence her title grants her, she has not."

"She seems worthy of our loyalty. I pray she proves it." He thought a moment. "Can I ask why you left the Order?"

I hesitated before I answered. "What you experienced today, I experienced in Kirkwall. Corruption led to the Order's utter destruction there. Everywhere I looked after I helped pick up the pieces, I saw only corruption. Corruption I had believed and had fed. I no longer understood what it meant to be a templar. Seeker Cassandra sought me out to join the Inquisition, told me what they were trying to accomplish, and I felt the Maker's hand guiding me to a new path." I met Barris's eyes. "I respect the Order and the soldiers within. I would see the Order become what it was meant to be, but that is not what we saw today. The Herald wants the same. The Inquisition wants the same."

He nodded. "As do I." At that, he turned to head for his tent.

I hesitated before heading towards where Meira sat but paused when I heard Varric mention his nickname for me. I stayed in the shadows between fires as I setup my tent and observed them.

Varric smiled at Meira. "You're a better person than most, then." His smile fell. "I think I've brought the man undeserved notoriety from it."

"'Notoriety' is an understatement, dwarf," Cassandra bit at Varric.

"I think Cullen is the kind of man to own his mistakes and the consequences that come with them," Meira lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

"Either way, I want you to know that I think Cullen is a good man and I had a front row view of him in Kirkwall," Varric met Meira's eyes. Perhaps I should give the dwarf a chance.

Meira studied Varric a moment, her face softening. "You don't need to explain, Varric. I appreciate that you want to, but you don't need to. Cullen and I have already had this discussion; I trust the Commander to lead our men with fair and moral judgment." Maker, I love her.

Varric seemed relieved at Meira's words before he looked around the camp. "So, the templars join the Inquisition. Even with Cullen here, I never thought that would happen. Of course, after Kirkwall, I never thought anyone would use red lyrium on purpose, either." He shook his head, his lips pursing. "The templars should know better than anyone what that crap does to people. Finding more of it really punches a hole in my 'red lyrium at the temple was a coincidence' theory."

"What do you know about red lyrium? How fast does it grow? Spread?" Meira asked.

"It took years to infect people in Kirkwall, but no one there was actually ingesting the stuff," he replied. "This 'Elder One' managed to take the worst thing I can think of and make it worse." He sighed deeply. "That's an accomplishment."

"We need to figure out how to destroy it," Meira growled. "We can't leave a single piece of it around."

"I'm with you on that," the dwarf nodded. "I've got people trying to find out where the red stuff came from. I think maybe we should make that a priority." Varric waved a hand in the air. "But that's enough doom and gloom. You just won a big victory for the Inquisition!" He shot Meira a broad smile. "What're you going to do to celebrate?" 

A playful smile spread on her lips. "I was planning to put my feet up. Maybe take a nap. You?" It warmed my heart to see her happy and I wanted nothing more than to feel that smile against my lips.

"Whatever I do, it'll be as far from Cassandra as I can get."

Meira bit her lip to keep from laughing as Cassandra sent Varric a death glare. "I am capable of having fun."

Varric laughed. "I'd pay literal money to see it, Seeker." Cassandra gave him a disgusted snort in response. Varric flicked his eyes back to Meira. "Things should be calm around here for at least the next hour. Take a moment to enjoy it."

"I'd enjoy it more if we weren't sleeping in the same fortress where we'd just cut our way through monsters," Meira grumbled. "But beggars can't be choosers, right?" I smirked at her dry humor.

Varric chuckled. "If the world's about to end, I'm sure the Seeker will let us know." Meira laughed heartily at the responding pout Cassandra gave. Varric put away the parchment he'd been holding before clasping his hands across his knees. He hesitated a moment but turned to Cassandra. "You know, Seeker, for someone with your tact and charisma you assembled a...pretty good little Inquisition. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming you didn't drag them all here by force."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "How kind of you." How Cassandra had not punched Varric was beyond me. I had seen her do it to others for lesser offenses—she'd done it to me.

"I mean, you never know, you could have kidnapped Ruffles, and she'd be too polite to say anything," he flashed a wicked grin. Meira chuckled and so did I.

"Leliana recruited Josephine," Cassandra offered. "They're... friends."

"So, there's a rational explanation after all. Just when I thought you had layers," Varric mocked a pout. He was twisting the knife pretty hard into Cassandra, still bitter over his being a prisoner prior to the Breach exploding. "It makes sense that Leliana did the recruiting when the Inquisition started. Not everyone can be intimidated into signing up after all."

Cassandra let out a huff of air. "I recruited Commander Cullen." My ears pricked at my name.

"Lucky him," Varric chuckled.

"He's made no complaints about my manners," Cassandra sat straighter, jutting her chin out. I chuckled at the bit of pride that seemed to bring her.

"His last boss was a raving lunatic who turned into a statue," Varric observed as he leaned towards Cassandra and mock-whispered, "That's not a high bar." No matter his words, that brought a smirk to my face. Though Cassandra was far superior to Meredith, they did both share a temper and ruthless streak. 

Meira bit her lip as she studied the two. Cassandra had a slight blush on her cheeks in embarrassment and Varric was reveling in her discomfort. "So, it's true that she turned into a statue?"

Varric turned his eyes to Meira. "Absolutely true. She's still there, bringing an extra dose of horror to the Gallows' tourists."

"No one's moved it-I mean her?" Cassandra asked.

"And make it impossible for children to play 'Who's Brave Enough to Poke Meredith?'" Varric questioned.

"They don't actually do that, do they?" Meira asked.

"No. No one's brave enough to poke Meredith."

"That is so strange," Meira mused. "The statue part, not the poking her part."

"It was even stranger to witness," Varric shook his head. "You should've seen the look on Curly's face."

My heart beat faster as the dwarf mentioned that night. The sensation of the even stones of the Gallows echoed beneath my feet as did the rumbling thunder of the building storm. It had been chaos all around me, though the lyrium had kept me calm. The other templars had surrounded me; asking questions as to what was coming:

"The Right of Annulment was invoked and nearly carried out on the Circle of Ferelden when I was younger," I'd told Keran and Ruvena when they asked why Meredith had called for the Right and if she was in the right to do so. "There it would have been justified. Demons overran the whole tower. Here, it's much harder to tell who's in the wrong." They'd looked at me in confusion. "I hope Meredith knows what she's doing. I will do what she commands of me, we all will...but something about this isn't right. I hope we can resolve this quickly and with little bloodshed. I am not looking forward to this." I hadn't known why I was being so open with them. I had never been so before; not with any of the templars under me. But Hawke had chosen to stand with the mages. And I could no longer quiet the whispers of doubt that had been growing in regard to Meredith. They'd grown to shouts as I'd looked into her eyes as she'd faced down Orsino. "You must steel yourself for what is to come," I'd said in encouragement to them as much as myself.

"You want to know what he was like that night? If he really took the courageous stand I painted in the book?" Varric's voice brought me back to the present. Meira nodded in response. Varric paused a moment, a seriousness in his face I had not seen before. "He did and, in that moment, Hawke was proud to know him." She'd been...proud? "Was it later than it should have been? Yeah—Hawke thought so too, but he did it; ignoring his superiors, ignoring the Order, and even his own prejudices." I winced at those words, the truth hitting me square in the chest.

"Putting all of that aside, he stood between Meredith and Hawke for what was right, drawing his blade on his knight-commander that had gone too far." Varric thought a moment before he chuckled. "It was a moment that I could never have come up with. No one would have believed it. The lone templar who was the right-hand man of his fanatic commanding officer standing against the chaos in a city ruled by the Order? The Order that had put a chokehold on its mages? The man having been instrumental in said chokehold? It doesn't sound plausible."

"Why do you think people still treat him with disdain?" Cassandra quirked a brow. "They don't believe it." She sighed. "Sometimes I don't think even the man in question believes it."

"He doesn't," Meira murmured as she stared at the flames of the fire. "It's good he no longer belongs to that life. Maybe one day he'll even realize he's free of it." They looked to her and nodded. I am trying. At her words, my feet moved of their own accord towards her.

"We've returned to the doom and gloom," Varric shook his head. "I say we put it to bed. So, tell me—who do you think is the toughest: Josephine, Leliana, or Cassandra?"

"I'm right here, you know," Cassandra growled. 

"That doesn't rule you out, Seeker." Varric shrugged.

"Cullen's not up for consideration?" Meira asked, quirking a brow.

Varric laughed heartily. "Curly? They just keep him around to look pretty." Meira laughed.

"Do I want to know what has you so amused?" I questioned as I joined them. Meira blinked and looked at me. I met her eyes, letting my affection for her show just a bit.

"Apparently, we just keep you around for your looks," Cassandra grumbled.

"'My looks'?" I quirked a brow as I looked at the three of them. "I fear I am missing context for the joke."

Meira chuckled. "Fear not, Commander. And Varric, if I had to choose…I'd say Josephine. Sorry, Cassandra."

Cassandra gave a small smile. "I agree with you, Herald. That woman frightens me and I've been a warrior for nearly twenty years."

Varric let out a laugh. "Solas owes me a sovereign."

"Maker's breath," I sighed. Honestly, how much betting did Varric and Solas do in regard to us all?  I looked back to Meira, her eyes on me. I tried to muster up the words I wanted to say to her, to ask her to join me for a walk, but Cassandra and Varric spoke before I did.

"Well, I think I should get some rest," Varric said as he stood and stretched. "Long journey on foot tomorrow."

"As should I," Cassandra agreed. "Herald. Commander."

We bid them goodnight, watching as they walked to their tents. I turned back to Meira, but she was avoiding my eye. I took a deep breath and tried to muster up some courage. To my surprise, it came readily enough. "Would you accompany me for a walk?" I asked.

She nodded and stood, brushing herself off. She'd removed some of her armor and only had her staff, whereas I was still fully armored. After witnessing the corrupted templars, I felt more comfortable in my full armor while still at the fortress. We walked in silence for some distance until we were out of reach of the firelight. I led us up the nearby stairs until we were overlooking the courtyard below, wanting to take her hand in mine, but resisting as I sensed she was angry with me. She leaned on the railing and waited for me to speak.

"I...I am," I cleared my throat. "I am sorry."

"For?" she asked, her voice hard.

"My cold behavior," I admitted. "I was...pushing you away."

She turned her eyes to me. The sky was full of stars, and I could see her in their light. Soft and dim, but I could still make out her features. "Why?"

I looked up at the stars. So many and so beautiful. Why had I been cold to her at first? "I feared what...you thought of me." I closed my eyes. Shame. Shame at my behavior after the red lyrium. Shame at my fear before the demon. "The way I acted after...they tried to force red lyrium on me. How I...was paralyzed before the demon." I met her eyes after a moment.

She turned fully to me, anger in her voice as she spoke. "Why in the Maker's name would you believe that I would think badly of you for either of those reasons?" Her brow furrowed as she studied me. "Your ferocity and anger after they tried to force red lyrium on you was understandable." She closed her eyes tight for a moment. Her voice was softer as she spoke. "And the demon...I can hardly blame you; I barely escaped it. We've both scars already when it comes to demons."

I looked away from her, heat prickling on my neck as she looked at me with such understanding. "Still, I should be...stronger."

"Cullen," Meira breathed, tugging on my fur mantle. "You are one of the strongest people I know."

I met her eyes in surprise, before my face softened. I saw her lips part in response to the look on my face, her eyes flicking to my mouth. Yet, I hesitated to take her in my arms. "I could—I would—say the same about you."

She blushed. "I'm not strong," she murmured. "If I were strong...I..." She sighed and turned her back to me, leaning once more on the railing.

You are, Meira. You are so strong. All that you've faced, all that you've endured and yet you still smile? Laugh? Love? Trust? Hesitantly, I put a hand on her low back. She glanced back to me and I met her eyes, hoping my words were there. "Tell me."

"Because you've been so open?" She bit out. I flinched at her anger, but her face softened instantly as she straightened. "Forgive me."

"No, you're right," I sighed. "Everything that happened today brought back...everything."

"I know, Cullen," she said softly, her eyes searching my face. "Do you know how many times I wanted to take your hand and tell you it would be all right? That I wanted to comfort you in any way I could?" I studied her. "Alas, I am the Herald and you the Commander. Yet, when I could have comforted you, you pushed me away."

My eyes fell. "I-I don't want…I wish that…Maker's breath." I clenched my teeth in frustration.

She turned to me once more, taking my hand and leading us to a nearby doorway. My heart started hammering in my chest, my gut twisting with nerves and anticipation as she pulled me through.

"What, Cullen? Talk to me."

It was dark in here. I could no longer see her, but I felt her. Her warmth, her eyes; heard her breathing, even her heartbeat. Why had I pushed her away? Shame, yes, but more than that. I forced myself to speak the words. "I don't want you tainted by my darkness."

"Cullen," she breathed as she put a hand against my cheek. I leaned into her touch and closed my eyes. "You think you're the only one with darkness? I could not survive mine without the Maker, without...you. Do not push me away in the hopes of sparing me; you're only harming yourself. Did I not tell you? I see you, blood and all, and I am unafraid."

Oh, Meira. Oh, my love. My darling. My heart. I put a hand over hers and pressed her palm harder against my skin. My memories were a constant ghost haunting me, trapping me with each recollection. The red templars and the red lyrium physical representations of what I was both running from and desperate for; the rage I'd unleashed as I'd cut the corrupted templars down the rage I held against myself. Yet fear had kept me from protecting her from the demon as it'd kept me from protecting so many others. I could fail her in so many ways. Do not falter. I had failed her. "I fear you should be afraid."

"I'm not," she assured. "I understand, Cullen. I do, but I also know…You have been alone for far too long." My eyes flew open at those words, my mind returning to the cabin in the farmlands. She brought her other hand up to my cheek and pulled me closer to her. "You're not alone anymore. You have me."

I felt her eyes studying me. I'd begun to say something, but the words disappeared as she ran a thumb along my bottom lip. Oh, Maker. I inhaled sharply at the sensation. I pulled her into my arms, praying they were strong, steady, and reassuring. She was here—we were here—together. I held her tighter against me, burying my face in her neck. "I was so worried for you. Can you forgive my cowardice?" I whispered.

"It was not cowardice, my knight," she assured. "You were afraid of it. Fear is not cowardice. I saw how you fought to reach me as it dragged me away; how you fought the templars that tried to harm you. You are no coward. The demon took you back there, but I ended it. Know that I can—I will—protect you, too. My Cullen, my lion."

I chuckled. "Lion?"

"The way you roared for me..." she murmured her voice lowering and taking on a huskiness.

My heart beat in earnest in my chest, my mind quieting. She ran her hands up my cuirass, my gut tightening in response. Hesitantly, she curled her fingers into my hair. My blood burned through my veins pulling my thoughts to center only on her as I met her lips. I was gentle and soft a first, peppering her face with kisses before finding her lips again. To my surprise, she tilted her chin to better meet my mouth. She stood on her tiptoes as her fingers combed through my hair before finding purchase in my fur and pulled herself tighter to me.

The thought of nearly losing her, the way she'd spoken to me after ending the demon, the way she was kissing me, the smell of her—it was all working to overwhelm my sense. She seemed no less affected as my lips parted hers only for her to respond in kind. Time stopped as every nerve in my being came alive. My hands swept the hourglass curves of her body, my fingers digging into the curves of her hips before cupping her thighs to lift her up and set her atop a large crate. She didn't seem to mind as she ran her fingers through my hair and hooked her legs around my waist before answering my passion with her own.

I could not tell how long we stayed like that, but I didn't want it to end. Eventually, though, my lungs betrayed me, and I had to wrench my mouth from hers as I gulped down air. As I did, she pressed kisses along my jaw before she let out a contented sigh and sense reasserted itself.

Gently, I lowered her and my cheeks burned with embarrassment at my loss of self-control. Yet, she had not stopped me nor was she objecting now. Hesitantly, I asked, "It...that wasn't too much?"

She touched my face. "That was...new." I was unsure what to say to that. "And I felt...free." Her voice was thick with those words and my heart filled with tender love for her. I placed a hand on her cheek and stroked along her cheekbone. "Don't misunderstand me, I enjoy the tender side of you...but I...could have more of that." She ran a finger along the scar on my lip as it pulled into a smirk.

I cleared my throat as desire burned in my gut. I curled my fingers around her wrist. "So-so could I. To be honest, that's part of why I was keeping my distance...I," I cleared my throat again. "I was worried...I'd—" My face was burning now as words escaped me.

"Claim my virtue?" she asked, fighting a smile as she quirked a brow.

"What? No! That's not...I wasn't even...why-how-Maker!" I swore.

She laughed merrily and despite my embarrassment, the sound eased the tension in my chest. "You just had your tongue in my mouth and you're saying you weren't thinking about my...virtue?"

"Sweet blood of Andraste," I groaned as I felt my blush spread to my ears and down my neck. "No! I was not. Maker. You-you sound like Rylen."

"You're so adorable when you're flustered," she murmured. "Tell me, my knight, do you often kiss Rylen that way?" 

"My darling, please," I begged as I choked with laughter.

She chuckled and stood on tiptoes to press her mouth to mine. "My Cullen. My adorable, awkward, sweet, handsome, alluring, brave, funny lion."

"I am not sure if I am to be offended or pleased," I chuckled against her mouth.

"They are only words of adoration, my knight," she promised.

"In that case, my lady," I stated huskily as I smirked, "Let me show you the depths of my gratitude."

We kissed passionately once more. I made Meira pay for her comments by kissing her until we were both gasping for air, to her amused chuckle. When we broke away, she brought her hand up to my face, magic glowing there. "Is it all right if I use magic? Our...recent affections are pretty plain," she explained, amusement in her voice.

"All right," I consented. My skin cooled and tingled as she used a bit of frost and healing magic to erase the evidence from our faces before we started to descend the stairs. Only a few steps down, now able to see her in the starlight, she gestured for me to sit as she did the same.

As I sat, she recounted everything that had happened to her in the Fade, all the ways Envy had hurt her. Everything she had seen—including my succumbing to red lyrium, the monster I had become. She put her hand on my cheek as she told me how seeing me pinned to the ground had frightened her. I looked away in humiliation, but she turned me gently back to her, assuring that I had nothing to be ashamed of as she stroked my cheek.

"Tell me about Samson," she requested, quietly. "It...rattled you when that templar mentioned him and you clearly have history. Who is he? He was mentioned in Tale of the Champion, but only briefly."

I scowled as I let out a deep sigh. "Raleigh Samson. When I was first transferred to Kirkwall, I shared quarters with him. He seemed a decent man, at first, and I knew him to be an accomplished templar. Meredith later expelled him for 'erratic behavior'. He ended up begging on Kirkwall's streets. He committed further crimes but managed to evade the Order's justice."

"Do you really think it's him?" Meira quirked a brow.

"We won't know for certain until we begin to look into this whole business but given the templar's threat and the letter we found," I looked away from her as I thought of myself upon the ground, pinned like an animal. Heard their song as they wrenched my mouth open and the red eyes of the one who'd nearly poisoned me. I ignored the hunger for lyrium that licked up my throat. Would they have bested me if I'd been taking it? Thoughts of using lyrium came as well as memories of Samson's addiction. I curled my lip. "I would not be surprised."

"If you thought him a decent man at one time, what changed?" Meira probed.

I found her eyes. "He had a chronic lyrium addiction," I said quietly and relinquished a bit of truth. Will she guess? Or will I have to tell her plainly eventually? She had already noticed some of the symptoms of withdrawal. When she'd asked, I'd given her a half-truth in response. I knew it was wrong, knew she deserved the whole truth, but she had so much on her mind already, I didn't want to add yet another stress. "To some degree...all templars have an addiction, but there are those who...go beyond the normal level. Samson was such a one. When he turned to begging, he apparently spent every coin he made on lyrium by buying it from local smugglers. He turned to smuggling out apostates from Kirkwall to earn said coin when begging didn't make enough to meet his needs."

"It sounds like Samson had a miserable life."

"The Order expelled him," I relented. I knew how difficult it was to step away from that life to try again and I'd stepped away for a position promised. Samson had had nothing, but he chose his addiction and however he could pay for it. "But he had choices. He could've found another path, but he chose lyrium and crime."

"That's a little harsh, Cullen," she studied my face as I looked at her. "Surely, you can have a little sympathy for the man?"

"Not if he's the one responsible for the devastation caused here," I clenched my jaw. If he knew and still poisoned these templars—had a demon do it for him—he did not deserve my sympathy.

"I thought you said he evaded the Order's justice and yet you know all of this about him?" 

Shrewd indeed. "I did know Hawke and Guard-Captain Aveline. They had their ears to the underbelly of Kirkwall. Samson might have evaded justice, but that didn't mean I was unaware of what he was up to. Besides, Kirkwall was not like Kinloch. I was out in the field more often than not; I became more acquainted with the dark side of the world than I ever wanted to."

"H-how well did you know Hawke?" she asked, unable to meet my eyes at the question. "The way Varric writes you two in Tale of the Champion..."

"Maker's breath," I groaned. "Not in that sense, I assure you. Varric added it for 'dramatic flair' I assume."

"But you were friends?" she questioned, still looking away from him.

"I suppose." I leaned forward until I caught her eye. "I will admit there may have been some...flirtation; more on Hawke's part than my own, but I was honest when I told you I had never been with anyone. Perhaps, I should clarify and say I have never even been in a relationship with anyone." I chuckled darkly. "Perhaps that is why I'm not very good at this."

"What do you mean you're not good at this?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

"I...keep floundering," I looked away, heat growing in my face once more. "You asked to move at a slow pace, but I keep pressing for...more. I do not mean to, but..." I thought of our passionate kiss, of her thighs in my hands and that fire seared my insides as I wanted for her. I sighed. "You asked me to be your steady shoulder. I pushed you away only to pull you back to kiss you...passionately. All I've done is...kiss you, but I haven't...properly wooed you." A bitter smirk pulled my lips.

She let out a breathy chuckle. "And what, pray tell, my knight, would proper wooing look like amidst this chaos?" She leaned against my shoulder as I let out a breathy chuckle. "And as far as I'm concerned, you've been plenty steady—today not counting for either of us." She met my eyes and I looked at her softly. "As for your affections, my lion, I...expected nothing less. What I meant for a slow pace was...sex." She blushed deeply and looked away from me. My own face burned at the word; at the thought of us...how I longed for her. "I-I'm not sure when I will be ready for that. For us to...enjoy that level of intimacy. I...am unsure how...I -" She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. My love. "I may not be ready for... quite some time. Can you...will you—"

She feared that I would grow impatient. I cursed myself internally for losing control and kissing her that way. How could she not think that I was desperate for her? How do I reassure her that I would wait? I tipped her chin with my fingers, lifting her face to mine, ignoring the blood pounding in my face. "I-I would wait an eternity for you, my darling."

She smiled bitterly. "I pray it is not an eternity."

"Meira," I spoke, my voice commanding. Her eyes met mine. "I will wait as long as you need. I will do whatever you need of me. I will not...make love to you until you are ready. There is no need for you to rush or push yourself. You have nothing to fear. I am not going anywhere." I kissed her tenderly, with as much gentleness as I could, but with equal passion. She seemed to almost enjoy it more than the last, so I poured all my love into it. I held her face in my hands as she gripped my wrists. Breaking the kiss, I slid my hands away from her face and took her hands in mine. "What did you mean you 'expected nothing less' when you talked of my affections?" I asked softly as I entwined our fingers and caressed her nose with my own.

She chuckled, sheepishly. "I know you well enough to have had an idea of how you would show your affection. Despite your...uncertainty...you have—you are…deeply passionate."

"Hmm," was all I said in response, feeling wholly seen by her at those words. "I must admit, sometimes I find it frightening how well you seem to know me."

"I had lots of time to study you," she smirked. "Perhaps that should frighten you."

I barked a laugh. "It would if I had not been studying you just as intently." I met her eyes, an embarrassed grin on my lips as I thought of her in the tower. "Honestly, I couldn't keep my eyes off you. But we hadn't even spoken." I smiled softly at her as I drank in her beauty in the starlight. "I still can't keep my eyes off you."

"It's the dreadlocks, isn't it?" She mused as she fussed with her false hair. "They certainly have a wild quality to them."

I chuckled before leaning in to kiss her soundly, drinking in her laughter as I did.

…

After a time, we finally returned to the courtyard, not wanting to separate, but we bid each other goodnight. I did not show my fear to Meira as I left her to face the demons that would haunt me in my dreams tonight. I crawled into my tent, removing my armor only because I knew I would not be able to lay down with it on.

I considered just staying awake, forcing myself to walk the perimeter of the fortress again and again until dawn came, but the way my eyelids were betraying me told me it would be a losing battle. I laughed bitterly as my eyes caught on the box that contained lyrium. My medicines gone, there would be no relief for the pain, no comfort found in their soothing effects. I would face these demons, these memories, in their full strength tonight.

Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. Maker, Andraste, give me strength.

I stripped down to my tunic and leather breeches before sitting upon my bedroll. I folded my hands and bowed my head in prayer. "O Maker, hear my cry: Guide me through the blackest nights. Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked. Make me to rest in the warmest places. O Creator, see me kneel: For I walk only where You would bid me. Stand only in places You have blessed. Sing only the words You place in my throat. My Maker, know my heart: Take from me a life of sorrow. Lift me from a world of pain. Judge me worthy of Your endless pride. My Creator, judge me whole: Find me well within Your grace. Touch me with fire that I be cleansed. Tell me I have sung to Your approval. O Maker, hear my cry: Seat me by Your side in death. Make me one within Your glory. And let the world once more see Your favor. For You are the fire at the heart of the world, and comfort is only Yours to give."

Tears wet my eyes as I finished and my soul ached with the words, begging that they would hear me. I continued to pray over and over until at last, no matter how I fought, I drifted into sleep.

Reyna's demon was gone, but the others that had crossed the Veil of their own accord now circled me outside the magical cage. All in Meira's form, all calling to let them please me—knowing I would please them; sensing how I hungered for them, for her. I was trapped. I knew it wasn't real, knew I had escaped, but I knew I wouldn't wake up either.

They circled and circled, laughing at me as I panted the Chant, as I humiliated myself in terror. Entering the cage, they caressed me as I covered my ears at their promises. They'd pull my hands away, whispering of my darkest desires being fulfilled if only I gave in. They'd take my face in their hands, speaking softly and with such enticement I'd nearly give in.

I'd fight—thrashing, kicking, punching, swinging my blade—all ineffective. No! Leave me! When I fought, they'd hiss and their caresses would turn to gropes. I'd kick them away, only for them to trap me between them. They'd take turns being Meira: either the Meira who loved me or the Meira turned abomination—sometimes both. One promising to make love to me while the other promised to kill me.

I could resist the lustful Meira, knowing I'd already done that, but the Meira turned abomination: I couldn't stop as my blade went through her again and again, knowing I'd already been willing to kill her once. I couldn't stop the cry she released, the fear in her eyes, the betrayal and hurt. I couldn't look away as she bled out before me. I was congratulated over her dead body, awarded the title of Knight-Commander all the while my eyes never left her fixed stare, devoid of life. Meira. Meira.

I couldn't block out my screams as her body rose to attack me. My feet faltering, my body freezing, unable to fight her. She'd whisper my name as she tore me open, as she feasted on me while I watched. Every bit of that pain wracked my body as if it were truly happening.

I screamed and cried. Cried out to the Maker, cried out to Andraste, cried out for my mother.

Then it'd end, and the demons would laugh at my pathetic display; drinking in my fear, my pain, my want to be free of this torture, for them to just take my life. One would coo that if they killed me, their entertainment would be over, and they hadn't had this much fun in quite some time.

They'd straddle me, taking liberties as they explored my armored body, finding the places where I was unprotected. You are pretty to look at. Why don't you play with us? You'd please us so well. Come, let us please you. Will you let us adore you?

Again and again, the cycle repeated until I no longer knew what was real and what was the demons' illusion. Until I no longer knew what I wanted and what they told me I wanted. Until I no longer knew anything outside that cage; no longer knew any words beyond the Chant falling from my lips.

A piece of me, the single part of me that was still whole, told me it wasn't real, to keep fighting, to keep resisting. I listened to that piece of myself, feeling an odd sense of peace from it even as I felt my very soul fraying; my mind sundering. My body was wracked with the pain of withdrawal: shaking, sweating, vomiting, and desperately thirsty. I was starving, dehydrated, and my heart could not stop pounding in fear.

I forced myself to crawl out of that cage. Forced myself to leave behind the boy trapped there; to block out his weeping, his fear, his cry for relief through death. A last cry for the demons to leave me sounded as I tumbled out of the cage onto a pile of rotting corpses. The stench filling my nostrils and making my eyes water.

Instead of the demons' hands, skeletal hands groped at me, pulling me further into the writhing mass of decaying bodies. I saw their dead eyes full of betrayal, terror, and a silent cry for help. Their dying whispers called out to me, wanting to know why I hadn't done more, why I hadn't stopped Meredith, why I hadn't listened to everyone who told me what she had become. Further down amongst the heap I was pushed, suffocating on the miasma of decay as I fell into darkness.

At the bottom, I landed on my feet. My heart was pounding and blue pulsed in synchrony. The song echoed, the sensation of the warm liquid and the sweet relief it would bring if I just drank upon my tongue. The blue pulsed brighter and I saw the little box at my feet. My hands shaking, my body grew slick with sweat as I fought the urge to pick it up. No! It opened of its own accord, revealing the philter of shimmering liquid within. The philter drifted to me and danced before my eyes.

Beyond the bottle, I saw myself as I was while on lyrium: sedate, angry, unfeeling and cold. I saw the man who had been too weak to resist manipulation; too trusting to fight wrong orders; too dependent on lyrium to feel safe—to feel strong. Next to him stood the me of today who'd been too frightened to defeat the demon. They joined into one, becoming my eighteen-year-old self as he received my first philter of lyrium, which he held out to me. I licked my lips, saliva flooding my mouth. As it did, lyrium dribbled down his chin and glowed in his eyes.

No, I won't take it. I swatted the bottle away only for it to be caught by Meredith. Leave me! Her eyes burned red as she stared me down, sneering at my weakness; at my softness for mages. The philter turned red in her hand as she approached the younger reflection of me. She yanked his head back and poured the red down his throat. No! No! No!

I watched as he—as I—turned into one of the red ones. Skin tearing, bones breaking, limbs elongating and twisting into a being of flesh and lyrium. A monstrosity. As if all of my sins, all of my failures, were on full display in those red crystals that took over my body. As I gave into the rage, the bitterness, the hatred, the weakness I had been trying so desperately to fight. He stared me down, a bitter sadness in the crimson of his eyes. Those eyes begged to know why I ever set foot on the path to becoming a templar as this was the inevitable end.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he roared at me in rage before tackling me to the ground. He pinned me beneath him as he took one of those crystals and slowly shoved it into my wildly beating heart. I screamed out in pain and defiance as in one last desperate attempt, I used all my strength to flip him onto his back.

I stared into his face and found worry in his green eyes. Green? "Cullen, please," his voice pleaded, but it was wrong. It wasn't my voice. It wasn't even a man's voice. It was...hers. It was...Meira's voice. Suddenly, a soft light appeared, revealing Meira beneath me.

I was atop her, pinning her with my full weight, my hands gripping her wrists painfully. Oh, Maker! Oh, Maker! Maker! I blinked, trying to shake myself out of my dreams, out of my memories, and come back to the present. My entire body shook and I realized I was breathing raggedly. Meira. It's Meira. We're in my tent. She's in my tent. Why?

"M-Meira?" I panted.

"Yes, you're safe. It was a nightmare," she explained, her voice calm, a soft smile on her lips despite her worry.

"Meira?" I croaked. Oh, Maker, what have I done? As gently as I could, I released her wrists and backed as far away from her as I could on my hands and knees. I tried to get as far away as I could, but the tent was small. I studied her face, terrified that I had hurt her. I felt the remnants of her magic on my skin: ice on my wrists and along my forehead where she'd tried to cool me down. "Maker, Meira. What are you doing in here?" I felt myself still shaking, the weakness bordering on overwhelming in the wake of the nightmares.

"It's a long story," she murmured, her eyes searching my face. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Meira. Tonight is—," I let out a groan of pain as my arms buckled from under me. Maker, please, don't let her see me like this.

"Cullen!" She lunged for me, catching me before I hit the ground. "Cullen, please, tell me what I can do." She cradled my head in her lap, running her fingers through my sweat-dampened hair.

"Tonight is not a good night," I murmured bitterly after the weak spell subsided. "Please, don't worry." I pushed myself up and stroked her cheek.

"Purpose was concerned enough to drop me here," she grumbled. "And I am most assuredly worried." She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close.

"I am sorry," I apologized, wanting to release myself from her grip, but not wanting to leave it either. "Did I hurt you?"

"Don't apologize," she rubbed her fingers along my neck. "You didn't hurt me, I was prepared. Let me care for you."

"Al-all right," I conceded. "What—"

"First, your clothes are wet and it's too cold for you to sleep that way. You'll get sick. Let me dry everything," she instructed. "While I do that, you need to drink plenty of water." She passed me the skin of water I had in the tent.

"You...you want me to undress?" I asked, heat rising in my face.

"Cullen, I want you to undress so I can dry your clothes. Fear not, Commander, I will not take advantage of you," she flashed an impish grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. Not the demon. The demon could never get her humor right.

I blushed deeply. "That's not-I wasn't- Maker's breath."

She chuckled as she put her back to me. She had started to dry my wool blanket. I began to undress, doing my best to ignore the blush spreading all over my face and body as I did. While she worked, she told me how she ended up in my tent. The potion she'd been taking to keep her out of the Fade had been destroyed by the corrupted templars. Upon waking in the Fade, Purpose had been there to guide her.

Her voice was elated as she described everything the spirit had showed her, of what she had learned how to do. She'd been able to see Therinfal in its every state throughout time; had been able to speak with other spirits that inhabited the Fade nearby. As she spoke of them, they sounded much like people, but their actions and words were the embodiment of the emotion they represented. She laughed as she told me how a Spirit of Courage had helped us with our kiss; expressed her gratitude as she described how a Spirit of Valor had assisted us in our fight against the corrupted templars.

I asked the occasional question, wanting to understand, but mostly wanting to soak in her voice as she spoke so passionately about it. I worried for her; worried what these powers meant for her, but she was so...excited. How she could manipulate the Fade, learn from the spirits—all that she could potentially do. So, I listened, knowing I would have to voice my concern eventually, but for now I let her speak.

The things she could do—had done—proved hard for my mind to wrap around. I could tell as she spoke that, no matter her excitement, she knew the darkness that lurked at the heart of her abilities. That became all the more evident as she described Purpose's final lesson for her: entering dreams.

"Purpose wanted you to enter dreams?" I asked, pausing my struggle to shimmy my leather breeches off. My sweat slick skin causing them to cling to me. Maker, what must she think of me?

"To help," Meira nodded, her voice quiet. "He says I am a bridge between the mortal world and the Fade. That mages like me should be able to help mortals that suffer in their dreams." She paused a moment as if she wanted to turn, but she didn't. "He wanted me to help you, but I refused. I've done so by accident already. I will not enter another's dreams intentionally without their permission. I would not betray your trust like that."

A deep sense of gratitude flooded through me at her words. What she would have seen tonight...Maker, thank you. I leaned towards her, placing my hand on her slender shoulder and running my thumb along the curve of her shoulder and neck. "Thank you," I breathed.

I let her go to grab my damp clothes, placing them next to her leg. She passed the wool blanket to me, and I swung it around my shoulders to cover my naked body. I tried not to think of the fact that I was in only my smalls and Meira sat before me in nothing but the hide bodysuit that clung to her every curve. After a moment, she turned to me and I looked away from her to keep my gaze from dropping to her torso.

I pulled the blanket tighter around me as I reached to grab my fur mantle. I held it out to her, her dark brow quirking. I cleared my throat, unable to meet her eyes. "Cou-Could you put this on, please?"

Confused, she took the mantle, her fingers brushing mine and searing me as my nerves tingled. In my peripheral, I saw her put her arms through the mantle and pull it around her. Tugging my blanket tighter still, I scratched an itch on my chin as my face burned with a blush. I cleared my throat. "Did you...enjoy the Fade?"

She smiled. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, either. I was enraptured by her in my fur and thoughts came unbidden that I forced away. I concentrated on her words. "I did. It was...amazing. The spirits, what I can do. It was also frightening, but I don't think it's a bad thing to have a healthy dose of reverence for the powers I seem to hold."

"I do not believe so, either," I nodded, glancing at her. "I will admit it does sound extraordinary." She smiled wider at me, and I had to look away again to avoid being impertinent. I couldn't help the shiver that ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"I'm nearly finished," she assured as she continued to work on my clothing. I could not find words, and she did not seem to mind sitting in silence as she worked her magic. My eyes were drawn to her hands as the light and power weaved through her slender fingers and into the fabric of my tunic. I glanced up at her face, watching as she concentrated. "Does it bother you?" she asked as her eyes met mine.

I quirked a brow. "What?"

"My magic? Does it bother you for me to use it?" she asked.

I shook my head. "There was a time that the smallest use would send me back there, but...that has lessened." I met her jade eyes. "That's not to say that I want mages going unchecked. I trust you. Trust Bethany and the others that have proven themselves in the Inquisition. I still struggle with my trust of magic, but...perhaps someday I can remember the good before I remember the bad."

"I'm sorry," she offered. "I'm glad it is getting better."

My lips twitched. "As am I. I was growing tired of caring for my own wounds all the time."

"After your excellent care of the cut on your lip?" she quirked a brow, fighting a smile. "You should consider becoming a healer yourself."

I smirked. "I don't think my patients would appreciate my work."

"Mmm, but I do," she purred as she boldly looked at the scar on my lip before her eyes flicked over me. Maker, what a sight I must be. Naked, bundled in a blanket, no doubt an utter mess from my nightmares. Blood pounded in my face, but I gave her a sheepish smile as she smiled at me. "That should do it."

She handed me my clothes. Without thinking, I shrugged out of the blanket before she had turned, exposing my upper body to her. I swallowed thickly as I watched her slowly glance over me; watched as her own throat bobbed before she put her back to me. Blood pumping hotter through my being, I quickly dressed before I did something foolish.

"Done." I stated and she turned. I met her eyes. "Thank you for...tonight."

"I apologize for Purpose just dropping me in here. I wasn't aware spirits could do that," she rolled her eyes.

I chuckled. "They seem to have taken a particular interest in you."

"In you as well, it seems," she murmured. She met my eyes and blushed a little. "I should get back to my own tent."

"I suppose you should," I rested my arms on my knees, gripping my hands to keep from taking her into my arms. Even though I want you to stay.

"I'll see you soon," she smiled as she removed my mantle and I had to look away again.

"See you soon," I choked out, my heart pounding in my throat.

She turned to the tent flap and just as she was opening it, I lunged forward to grasp her hips. Gently, I pulled her back against me, wrapping my arms around her waist. My heart was thundering, my breathing ragged again as I buried my face in the crook of her neck. I grazed the exposed skin along the curve of her neck with my nose and lips.

"Meira," I whispered against the skin below her ear, and I felt her shudder against me. "Meira, Meira," I kept murmuring against her skin, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips as she leaned into my touch, a sigh tumbling from her mouth.

That fire blazed in my core, my heart pumping faster and faster, my control threatening to slip again. I held her tighter for a moment before I released her. She turned, her eyes dark, and it took every ounce of my will not to put her beneath me and capture her mouth in a passionate kiss as she ran a thumb along my cheek. She practically threw herself out of the tent and I groaned as I tossed myself back onto my bedroll.

Maker, this will be the death of me—if withdrawal doesn't take me first. 

…

There was no more sleep to be had as that fire continued to burn within me, bringing only thoughts of Meira to mind. I tossed and turned on my bedroll, my arms aching to hold her. With a frustrated sigh, I wrenched myself off the ground and began strapping my armor back on before collecting my things, rolling up my bedroll, and flicking the flap of my tent open.

I spotted Meira, my eyes going to her—finding her—on their own. She stood with Cassandra outside their tent; her armor, thankfully, in place. I made my way over to them, my eyes hardly straying from Meira as I came closer and I noticed the blush blooming on her cheeks. I gave her a smirk in response which made her look away from me.

"Herald," I nodded when I stood before them. "Lady Cassandra," I nodded. "We should speak with Barris before we depart."

"A moment, my dears," Vivienne's voice spoke from behind Meira and we turned. "It is good that you salvaged as many templars as you did, my dear. We will need every templar, but they will require proper management. We also need to increase our lyrium supplies considerably. The Chantry may still have stockpiles we can use."

"Commander Cullen will look into it," Meira gestured to me, her eyes finding mine. "You already have a supply line, do you not?"

"I—" I began. She trusts me with this?

Vivienne's dark eyes landed on me. "You undoubtedly did, but it was established before the Divine Conclave." Vivienne looked back to Meira. I furrowed my brow and crossed my arms over my chest. "The situation has changed. The Breach has done more than disfigure the sky. The Veil itself is broken. All mages, no matter how skilled, are now in danger of drawing demons to themselves. Before this crisis is over, you may find that templars, flawed as they may be, are all that stand between us and chaos."

"You have a low opinion of your fellow mages," Meira stated to the woman as her brow quirked.

"It is not a matter of opinion, my dear," Vivienne reasoned. "I have a close relationship with reality. Many of my colleagues do not. Magic is dangerous, just as fire is dangerous. Anyone who forgets this truth gets burned."

"I agree, Vivienne," Meira inclined her head. Meira remembered the dangers of magic but knew that her fellow mages were not entirely without self-control. The problem was the Breach made for an unexpected variable: we didn't know how much it was affecting mages. Would her magic change with its closure? Would things return to normal once it was closed or was the damage it had done permanent?

Vivienne studied Meira intently for a moment. "Tell me something. You said once that you wanted to change things. What future would you build for mages?"

"As I've said, the Circle has to be restored if we want to keep the peace, but I would see it changed. The Order as well, from the foundation up. If yesterday was not proof enough of the desperate need for change," Meira offered. "We already spoke on the details of my thoughts."

"It is still a comfort to know that you would see the Circles restored, but you'll find opposition to the idea even among friends," she warned. "Even more so what will constitute as sufficient 'change'. It's something to consider, my dear."

"I shall, Madame Vivienne," Meira gave a slight bow. "Will you be all right here until the Inquisition soldiers come?"

"No need to worry about me, my dear," Vivienne had turned to leave, but looked over her shoulder. "Nobles and templars; both crowds I am used to handling."

"If you've need of anything, do let us know." Vivienne gave a smirk in response but nodded slightly.

"I thought I was the only mage who sees the value of templars," Meira muttered as she watched Vivienne walk away.

"Perhaps your opinion is biased, Herald?" Cassandra quirked a brow. 

I coughed in surprise as Meira let out a chuckle at Cassandra's wit. "Perhaps, Seeker." Meira glanced at me. "What about the lyrium, Cullen?"

I met her gaze. "We will have to reestablish supply lines, Vivienne is correct. Lady Josephine was working on a few connections, but we will address it upon our return."

Meira glanced away, a thought crossing her face. "Is it necessary for templars to use lyrium? Seekers can use their own abilities and templar abilities without it. Perhaps we can find a way to allow templars to use their abilities without the lyrium and the fear of addiction." Meira looked between Cassandra and I.

I looked at Meira in surprise and did my best to ignore Cassandra's eyes that were boring into my face. "I would welcome such research."

"Yesterday you were upset with Cassandra for suggesting it?" Meira cocked her head.

"Right now, lyrium is the only way we know of that allows templars to use their abilities; we need them to use their skills. However, if we can find a way for them to deny magic, free of lyrium once the Breach is sealed, I would give my full support," I explained.

"I hope it can be done. Lyrium is too easy of a way to manipulate the men and women of the Order," Cassandra stated.

"And now with red lyrium…," Meira mused. "We need to do away with it all, if we can." I need to tell her. 

"Well, are we ready to get this show on the road?" Varric's gravelly voice asked as he approached. 

…

We were well away from Therinfal, Meira recounting the events of yesterday upon Varric's request. She had just been getting to the part with Purpose and Cole when the boy appeared next to her. Varric let out a surprised yell and a blasphemous swear that made me blush after coughing. Cassandra and I stepped away from the boy.

"I startled again, didn't I?" Cole asked. "I stayed hidden with the templars, unless they needed me. Most wouldn't like me."

"It's all right, Cole," Meira assured. "I'm just glad you're not hurt."

"I am not hurt. I help the hurt," he looked to Meira. This...spirit. I wish it made sense.

"I meant, I'm glad you're not injured," Meira corrected.

"No. It's less loud here," he looked to the ground again.

"Good," Meira smiled. 

Cole looked to her. "You took in the templars. You let them stay in strength even after what they did. Their own people." He sounded upset. "It is dangerous when too many men in the same armor think they're right. You should prepare. It's already getting louder."

"What's going to be loud?" Meira asked.

"I don't know, but there are echoes, rushing back across us, ripples in a pond from a stone, but backward." Meira glanced at me. I was pretending not to listen to the creature, but my ears pricked up at his mention of preparing. I could have sworn I heard Meira chuckle. "But first, you seal it. I hope it hurts less. I'll help if I can, but I don't always say it right."

Meira looked to the boy, her face softening. "You helped me at the Seeker fortress. Say it however you like."

Cole seemed surprised. "I helped. It's good to hear. I will try."

"So...who is this?" Varric asked, a brow raised.

"This is Cole, the spirit that helped me against Envy," Meira stated to the dwarf.

"You are Varric," Cole stated.

"That's right," Varric nodded before he studied the boy for a moment. "Why do you look human?"

"It was the shape that would help," Cole looked to Varric.

"Huh. Most people don't pick a shape," Varric observed. "I guess I was hoping for something deeper with that question."

"It had to be him," Cole murmured. "But harmless. The him he wanted that wouldn't hurt." I scowled at his nonsensical words. 

"Well, that's... deeper. I think," Varric voiced.

Meira turned back to Cole. "I'd like to talk with you about the templars. You observed them for a time before we arrived."

I nearly tripped over my own feet at Meira's question. What would she ask a spirit about templars? Why didn't she ask me? What would the spirit say? Was she safe to trust it?

"They're heavy with forgotten songs, like Varric. Some of them are too loud," Cole's brow furrowed. "It's hard to stay near them. Cullen is softer, but demons asked questions that hurt him." I inhaled sharply at the boy's words. "Evangeline was kinder." Forgotten songs? I am softer? How did this creature know about the demons' questions? I was there for a moment, but I pulled myself back to the present. Is it demon or spirit? Cole became agitated. "I want to explain, but I...Rhys's mother spoke to spirits, but not to him. Then she died for a templar he loved. Words just bounce off the edges."

"What is your opinion of templars?" Meira asked.

"Some like hurting mages," Cole stated, his voice dark. "It makes them happy, or less afraid, or..." He became agitated again. "Dreams again, woke up shaking. Stalking the grounds for one who looks like her. Always some rule being broken." I closed my eyes at those words, them nearly a perfect description of Meredith—searching for her mage sister in every mage. He settled. "But not all templars listen when whispers crawl around inside them. They try to protect people." He glanced my way, his blue-grey eyes finding mine before he turned back to Meira. "Like Cullen. The good ones remember that mages are people." 

"Guess you even have admirers in the Fade, Curly," Varric laughed. 

"I do not think that's what it meant," I retorted.

"Cole," Cole spoke, slightly offended. "My name is Cole. Not 'it'. Old whispers stir; old scars itch as the spirit talks. But it soothes. They sounded like screams. Is it spirit or demon? Is she safe? Am I?" Cole looked up at me again, his eyes boring into mine. "I want to help. They wanted to hurt." It...it read my mind. My hands went to my sword, but I couldn't help the blush that crept into my face.

Meira glanced at me, a small smile on her lips as she watched me for a moment before looking back to Cole. I looked away from her, rubbing the back of my neck. "Can you tell me more about how the templars feel to you?"

"They feel older than they look," Cole voiced. "They've been changed, and their bodies are incomplete now." I whipped my head back towards Cole at his words. "The lyrium helps, but their bodies always want to connect to...something older. Bigger than they are." How does he know this? How does he describe it so well? "That's why they block magic. They reach for that other thing, and magic has no room to come in. Like when I listen to Varric."

"We've just met, kid," Varric chuckled.

"You just met me, but I'd already met you," Cole said to Varric.

"Well, that's...different," Varric's smile faltered.

"How are the red templars different?" Meira asked Cole, her voice nearing impatient.

The boy turned back to Meira. "The red lyrium is different, darker. Daggers under the skin. It eats you inside, until you're nothing. They hear a different song. The song behind the door old whispers want opened. They are dead and dark and done." Like Meredith. I'd watched my mentor, flawed as she was, go from a woman who tried to be reasonable to a woman completely twisted by her fear. Would I become that? I still feared magic. Not as badly as I had, but if these nightmares continued...would I be able to—Cole turned to me and spoke, "Just because she was red doesn't mean you are." 

I stared at him for a moment before looking away. I did not like that he shared my intimate thoughts with the others; did not like the fact that he could hear them, understand them almost better than I could.

"So, you can make people not see you, Cole," Varric voiced. "Can you do that for other people?"

"Yes," Cole nodded as he looked to the dwarf. "It makes me tired and doesn't work if they're loud. Or angry. Or bright."

"Hm, what about things? Can you make people ignore an object?"

Cole thought a moment. "Maybe. Like what?"

Varric was fighting a smirk. "Oh, I don't know. A book, or a box...or a crate...or a wagon full of crates?"

"Dwarf," Cassandra hissed.

"I'm just asking!" Varric stated.

Cassandra made a disgusted noise as Meira laughed. 

"So Curly, how are you going to make it up to me for costing me ten silvers?" Varric asked as his russet eyes found me. 

I started stammering, my face going red.

"What?" Meira asked. "Why'd he cost you ten silvers?"

"I—" I began to speak.

"No, I want to hear this one as well," Cassandra cut me off. I shot her a glare.

"I had more faith in Curly's defenses," Varric shrugged. "I guess he cares for you too much to not talk about it when given the opportunity."

"Blood hot, heart pounding, hands shaking as I long to hold her. I toss and turn, thinking only of her eyes as they sparkle, her laugh as it warms my heart, her lips on mine, of her curves under my hands. Does she know? Does she know what she means to me?" Cole spoke. "I want to tell her, but is she ready? Does she feel the same?"

"Oh, ho, sounds like there's a little more going on here than crushes and flirtation," Varric chuckled. "Tell us more, kid."

"Do not," I barked at Cole. 

"So that was you?" Varric quirked a brow. "I thought maybe he was reading my mind, but it was you, Curly." Varric turned to Meira. "Your beau couldn't wait to fess up to Chuckles how he feels about you when they were talking about having that staff made for you, Talitha." The dwarf sighed. "I bet the elf five silvers that he couldn't get Curly to admit it in less than three tries. Chuckles did it in two. This was after he told me of the whole 'bait and switch' plan. Genius." Varric snorted. "Just let me be around when Curly gets you two confused and tries to kiss Ellana."

Meira and Cassandra laughed heartily. The dwarf flashed me a wicked grin and I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Cole was looking around at everything as if he hadn't just shared my innermost thoughts with everyone concerning the female I loved and my desire for her. I flicked my eyes towards Meira, knowing my face was red from my ears to my neck. Her eyes were on me, sparkling with mirth. Oh, Maker.

…

I spent the remainder of our travel time sulking in my embarrassment. I praised the Maker when we approached South Reach. The Inquisition soldiers had arrived shortly before we did, horses and supplies we could use in tow. We decided to stay the night and push hard for Haven in the morning. We paid for rooms at the inn we'd stayed at on our way through, and I quickly hid within mine.

I stripped down and threw myself into the copper tub, welcoming the cold water. It cooled the heat of my blood and brought the pain of my joints and muscles to the forefront of my mind. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. As soon as I did, all I could see was Meira and my blood heated up again.

"Maker's breath!" I swore and pulled myself from the tub after quickly scrubbing myself down.

I used the towel to dry myself off before roughly drying my hair, gritting my teeth, as I knew my curls would be fully present and it'd take work to get them tame again. I groaned, not wanting to go through the process, but knowing I'd look like a child with the golden spirals.

I wrapped the towel around my hips as I washed my smalls and tunic; no doubt they smelled of sweat after the previous night. Maker. I did not deserve Meira's care. How had she so willingly cared for me after seeing me in such a state? After pinning her to the ground? Again. Is she safe with me?  

There was a light knock on the door. I nearly opened it before remembering that I was in only a towel. "A moment, please."

"Of course," Meira's voice answered and my heart skipped in my chest. "I can come back later?"

I hesitated. I wanted to see her, but I...Maker, Rutherford, get a hold of yourself. You are a man, not a boy. "Just need to dress." I turned to the room. Dress in what?

"Commander," Meira spoke. "The soldiers provided some extra clothing. Lady Cassandra told them most of our supplies had been destroyed and we were in need of anything they could spare. I brought you some things that looked to be your size."

Blushing, I went to the door and opened it a crack. I found Meira standing there, her disguise in place, a smile tugging on her lips. "That...would be appreciated."

She bit her lip and handed me the clothing. My hand covered hers and our eyes met. My heart thundered in my chest and my breath caught as her gaze flicked to my lips. "Thank you," I murmured and pulled the clothes into the room.

"You're welcome," she breathed. She hesitated a moment before meeting my eyes. "Could we...would you like to have dinner together?"

I blinked and could not help the grin that spread on my face. "Yes, I would."

She smiled broadly. "Meet you in an hour?"

"An hour," I nodded.

She turned and made her way back to the room she was sharing with Cassandra. Varric had paid for his own room but offered to take Cole around the city. Cassandra was filling out reports, adding mine and Meira's to hers before she sent them to Haven. She'd requested an audience with the Arl of South Reach, wanting to inform him of the situation that had occurred at Therinfal and petition that he station more soldiers within his lands.

I had asked if she wanted me to go, but she refused. Instead, she knew I needed to see to the Inquisition soldiers, our supplies, and seeing the contingent off that was to escort Vivienne and the nobles. That seen to and Cassandra off, I had retreated back to my room for a bath. I dressed quickly, taking a moment to appreciate the smell and feel of fresh linen.

With an exasperated sigh, I stared at my comb and the wax. Rewetting my hair, I dried it until it was damp. Pulling the comb through my curls until they were waves instead of spirals, I took some of the wax into my hands working it between my palms. Ignoring the soreness in my fingers and joints, longing for my salve, I focused on dinner with Meira. I smoothed my hair with the wax, working it into the strands until they were as I preferred them.

Once done, I cleaned my armor of any blood and grime before putting it back on. Groaning a little as the weight settled on my aching back and legs, I tied my sword to my belt. Another knock on my door and I hurried to answer it.

Meira stood with her back to me; she had the hood of her uniform pulled up. "M-Yes?" She turned and smiled brightly. She'd put on makeup—where she'd gotten it, I had no idea, but her eyes were lined with kohl, her lips tinted and shiny. I stepped back so she could enter.

"Dinner should be here momentarily," she spoke. "I hope it's okay that I ordered?"

"Of course," I nodded.

Her cheeks pinked as I looked at her. Is she...nervous? My heart quickened. "Are you...why do you seem nervous?"

She looked at me in surprise, her eyes sparkling. "Do I?" She put her hands to her cheeks. "I suppose I am a little."

I swallowed thickly. "Why?"

She bit her lip. "You said you hadn't properly wooed me and...well here's to starting," she met my eyes as she clasped her hands behind her. She smiled softly, glancing at me through her dark lashes. "Cullen, this is me telling you that I want you to court me."

"C-Court you?" I hadn't heard that word since I was a boy at Mother's knee. She'd been talking about one of the farm girls in Honnleath being courted. I asked her what that meant and she got this soft smile on her face as she looked at Father. She'd explained that it was when a man pursued the woman he loved in order to marry her. It usually was a drawn-out process that began with the man asking for her father's permission, then wooing the woman with romance, and, if all went well, the result was their marriage. Sh-she's telling me...she's saying...Is she saying what I think she's saying? "Y-you asked to have dinner with me as a... gesture of acceptance?" I stammered.

She looked to the ground, bringing her hands to the front and twisting her fingers. "I know you probably wanted to take the first step, but...," Her jade eyes met mine and I couldn't breathe at the warmth they held. "We kind of began...out of order, anyway, and...well our circumstances are not exactly ordinary." Her face fell a little at those words. "Besides, we waited nearly twelve years for that kiss. I wasn't going to wait any longer." She blushed a little as she looked away. "I know this is an indulgence, but...I didn't know when we'd next have the opportunity."

I took her hand in mine. "I am pleased that you thought of it." I chuckled. "I just wish I had thought of it first."

She laughed sweetly. "You're welcome to take the lead from here."

Well, it seems I need to do some reading...and ask for advice. But who would I ask? Of the human nations and cultures I'd experienced or learned of, courting was not the route taken by many; especially those of larger cities or of higher status as marriages were little more than transactions and pleasure could be found easily enough outside of it for those who sought it. Templars rarely married because it was actively discouraged and the rules around it made it complicated. Genuine courtship seemed to be a rarity in the larger world, but a commonplace tradition amongst human country-folk. An honest custom for honest people. I glanced at Meira, who was studying me. But it's what she wants.

There was a knock on the door and we broke apart. Meira hid behind the nearby screen, and my stomach sank with embarrassment as I saw my smalls hanging over it to dry. Maker's...Honestly, Rutherford. 

"You ordered dinner, ser?" The attendant asked as she carried in a large tray of food.

I nodded. "Yes."

"Are you going to fight the stew, ser?" The attendant eyed my armor and sword after she'd set the tray down on the small table.

I heard Meira stifle a laugh and I looked down at myself. I crossed my arms over my chest. "A force of habit, I'm afraid."

The attendant let out a chuckle. "I suppose we all must dress our best for dinner, even dinner alone. Do eat all of this, young man, you look like you could use some meat on your bones."

"Thank you for the advice," I grumbled.

The attendant chuckled again, her wrinkled eyes sparkling. "Just leave the tray outside the door when you're finished."

"Thank you," I nodded.

As soon as the door was closed, Meira burst into laughter as she came around the screen. She'd removed the hooded cloak she'd been wearing, revealing her natural, soft curls that fell around her like gentle spirals of spilled ink. She looked positively radiant as her laugh lit up her face. My stomach quivered with nerves as her eyes met mine. She wore a simple linen blouse, leather leggings and fine boots, but she looked as lovely as ever.

When she quieted, her jade eyes glanced over me. "That attendant had a point. Must you wear armor?"

I smirked. "Are you asking me to...slip into something more comfortable?"

She flashed a wicked grin. "Perhaps, Commander."

"Very well," I sighed. "Give me a moment."

"I'll set the table," she offered.

I slid behind the screen and took the opportunity to hide my smalls beneath my discarded layers. As I came around the screen, I rolled up the sleeves of my tunic as they were a bit on the short side for me anyway. Meira's eyes were on me; heat prickled across the nape of my neck as she blushed when our eyes met.

She stood before the table but stepped aside as I came close and threaded an arm around my waist as she gestured to the food. "I ordered one bowl of turnip and barley and a bowl of lamb and pea. Take whichever you'd prefer. There's some bread as well. An ale for you and a glass of watered wine for me." She smiled excitedly. "They even had a dessert, so I ordered that." She pointed at a small, spiced cake.

Hesitantly, I put an arm around her in return. "It looks wonderful."

She chuckled. "It'll probably taste dreadful, but it'll be fun anyway."

I smiled as I pulled her close to me. "You're probably right. Mother's cooking was about the only good Fereldan food I've had."

Her eyes found mine as she looked up to me. "That's what I want to do tonight. I want to talk about everything. I want to hear everything about you. Everything I don't know, everything I missed."

I met her gaze, my face softening. "All in one night? That's more talking than I've done in my lifetime."

She chuckled before glaring at me halfheartedly. "Cullen Rutherford, this is your first opportunity to woo me. Don't you want to make the most of it?"

I was quiet a moment. "If I may ask, how do you know of courtship? It's…not exactly a commonplace practice."

"Perhaps not, but among the Dalish we called it Bonding. It's not dissimilar from the courtship discussed in traditional romance novels or the idealism of the chivalric code. An intentional pursuit that follows a sort of ritualism passed down through the generations."

"But you…you do understand what you're asking?"

She looked me square in the face. "I do. Do you?"

There was no humor in that question. She was serious. This was more than a symbolic custom she was asking me to follow. Meira was not so shallow as that. There was a purpose to it, deeper than what it represented to our two races and their respective cultures. My heart ached as the pieces clicked. She'd had everything stripped from her at the hands of a cruel man. She was wanting me to woo her with honor and chivalry because it had been forcibly denied her before. She was setting clear expectations while simultaneously telling me that she trusted me to fulfill them; that she wanted me to be the lionhearted knight she saw in me. My heart swelled with pride at the duty she was calling me to, that she believed I could answer—and I would answer. But one question still remained: why me?

I gazed at her and asked her plainly, "Why?"

Her jade eyes softened as her cheeks bloomed with color, but she did not look away. Instead, her gaze turned piercing. "Because Cullen…I love you."

I blinked at her. I love you. Had she truly said those words? "You...you love me?" I asked, quietly, afraid it wasn't true.

She lowered her eyes, her face lovely as her dark lashes kissed her rose-tinged cheeks. Slowly, she looked at me from beneath her lashes. Releasing a shaky breath, she confessed again, "I love you, Cullen."

My heart stopped and then began beating so fast I thought it would fly from my chest. Gently, I took her face in my hands; her eyes grew hesitant to meet mine as uncertainty flitted across her features. Thumbs caressing her skin until she finally met my gaze, my gut flipping at the hope they held, I tenderly smiled at her. Softly, I spoke the words, fearing that if I spoke them aloud this spell would break. "And I love you, Meira."

Then I kissed her, so gently, so tenderly, that she melted against me. Yet, I stayed strong; felt stronger as I held her, felt safe as I told her the depths of my heart, felt whole as the love of my life—the woman I had waited for—told me she loved me.

Despite how I have hurt her, despite how far I have fallen, despite everything, she loves me. She loves me. She loves me.

I could hardly breathe for the feeling overwhelming me. She saw me; saw me as no other, but the Maker saw me, and still she was giving me her heart. She saw me as I was and wanted my heart yet still.

"Then, you will talk until you're blue in the face," she breathily challenged when our lips parted.

I chortled as our noses grazed. "So long as you do the same, my darling." I took her hand and kissed it before pulling her chair out for her. Once she sat, I pushed it in before coming around the table to sit in my own chair.

 We divvied up the food and began eating, laughing as it was indeed dreadful. That's where we began: at food. We talked about how our mother's used to cook; hers far more practical than even what my mother used to prepare. The clan had shared communal meals where everyone contributed something. We laughed over which foods we'd despised as children: she anything green while I'd hated turnips.

We talked about family; our parents, our grandparents, cousins. Meira told me what little of Mahanon she remembered, of her adventures with Ellana when they were little. Studying her face, I was glad to see that, despite everything that had happened at the fortress, she spoke without sadness. She told me more of clan life, how she'd been taught her basic education, how the Keeper had trained her in her magic. She told me what she thought of her siblings, how she hoped that she could get to know them and grow close to them - that they would allow her to.

I told her of the wooden sword and shield Father had made for me and the one he'd made for Branson. I turned the coin over in my pocket as I spoke of Bran: his antics, how he looked like me, what I thought he'd be like now. I kept my fingers around that worn coin as I spoke of Mia and Rosalie, of what I hoped for them. She entwined her fingers into my free hand as I spoke of my siblings. I told her of templar training, of King Alistair as a trainee. How we'd been friends for a time; Alistair reminding me of Bran in a lot of ways and making me feel at home. How disappointed I'd been when we'd been separated.

As we split the spice cake, she told me of her time in the Circle before I'd arrived, how she and Solana had become friends. With a wicked smile, she brought up the time Solana had made Meira so angry, she'd burned her clothes off. I stammered and blushed as I tried to convince her that I had not seen anything, but she smiled at me knowingly and I did my best not to recall that image of her. As payback, I brought up the day we'd been outside the tower and I'd caught her watching me as I wrestled with my friends, winning a pink blush as I did.

Meira asked about Kirkwall and I did my best to speak only of the good pieces I could pull from there. Talking of Meredith before she'd succumbed to her madness, of how she'd been an excellent mentor and had believed in my ability. I told her of the few humorous assignments I'd been sent on, and the few times Hawke had pulled me into her trouble.

She told me what she could remember of her time as a Tranquil; all the knowledge she'd gained and how she'd learned to draw and paint in that time. I told her of the time between Kirkwall and Haven, her hand tightening on mine as sympathy crossed her face. She told me how, even in Tranquility, she'd been drawn to me, as if she'd known. I told her how I'd prayed for a miracle to save her from what I had done.

At that, we both came around the table, adoration taking over as lips met and hands roved. Her hands made their way lazily from my chest into my hair, as mine followed her curves up to her ribs where they splayed across her back. I pulled her tighter against me, feeling as I came alive with her in my arms. I buried my hands in her silky curls as her hands came to curve around my neck and hold my face, her thumb caressing the scar on my lip. I sensed the change in her before she parted my lips to claim me. She hummed her approval and I felt it in my bones. Heart pounding, blood rushing, mind quiet of all, but her. Chest heaving, I broke away to find her eyes darkened and heavy with want as they gazed at me. I caressed her cheek as I curled her hair around her ear, following her jawline as I tipped her chin. A contented smile on her full lips as she met my eyes and placed a hand on my cheek. I pulled her in for a gentle kiss, before pulling away once more. Her hands were on my chest as she looked up at me.

I need to tell her. I need to tell her about my not taking lyrium. "Meira, my dar—"

"Can I sleep with you?" she murmured.

My words died in my throat. My mouth refused to function as my face burned and mind went blank. "Meira, I-I d...I'm...I—"

She took my face in her hands, a small smile on her lips. "Not like that, my knight. I just...I want to be with you. Could we...could you hold me while we sleep?"

"Y-you want...," I cleared my throat. "You want me to hold you as we sleep? You want to sleep at my side even knowing...what may come?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I don't care. I will care for you. I just want to be with you every second that I can before we return to Haven. I-I want...," she looked away, her cheeks blooming with color. "I want to feel your arms around me as I fall asleep."

The room spun at her words as she took my hand and led us to the bed. My ribs were aching with the pounding in my chest. After kicking off her boots, she climbed in first, though she did not get under the covers. I watched as she turned onto her side, her back to me and a blush on her cheeks. "Meira, are you—are you sure?" I asked. 

Her eyes found mine. "I just want you to hold me."

I swallowed thickly as I felt tears prick my eyes at those words. "All right." Removing my own boots, I settled in next to her. Hesitantly, I curled my arm around her waist. She backed into my chest, molding herself to me and I closed my eyes as her warmth, her curves, met my body. I held her tighter, her arm over mine as she laced her fingers through my own. After a moment, she turned and my breath caught as she flattened me to my back. Avoiding my eyes, she laid her head on my shoulder, wrapped her arm around my waist and twined a leg through mine.

As she snuggled into my chest, she murmured. "Goodnight, my love."

I curved an arm around her and gently caressed the arm draped across me from her wrist to her shoulder as I kissed her head. "Goodnight, my darling."

Within moments, she was asleep, heavy with it in my arms. I listened to her steady breaths, her heart beating against me, and held her as tight as I dared while tears slipped silently down my cheeks. 

Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. I would not falter; I would not fail her. 

Maker, you answered my prayer and brought her to me. I cannot look at her, cannot hold her—whole and beautiful, this woman who loves me—and not know, beyond a doubt that it was you. That you made her, made me, made us. Maker, I cannot fail her. Cannot fail them. Cannot fail the Inquisition. I stared up at the ceiling, beseeching the Maker.

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 cried out to him. I knew he may not listen, but Andraste could hear me; she understood love and loss. Whatever comes, let us find each other every time. Whatever comes, bring her back to me. Whatever comes, help me to be strong.

For her.

…

As the dawnlight grew brighter, she began to stir. I had not slept, too afraid that if I did, I would wake to it all being a dream. Instead, I had lain awake holding her. She'd moved in the night, but never far from me. Now, she faced me and I her as I laid on my side memorizing her face in the dim sunlight. I'd memorized the angles of her face and whispered I loved her over and over again. Slowly, she blinked awake, her brilliant eyes finding mine. She was surprised for a moment before color bloomed in her cheeks.

"I suppose I got a little bold last night by asking this of you," she murmured. 

I took her chin in my fingers. "You did nothing wrong, my darling."

She looked away from me. "Still, I...should not have asked. It's not fair to you."

I pulled her into my arms. "If this is the only time you want to fall asleep in my arms for however long, then so be it." I chuckled. "I do ask you let me enjoy these final moments, though."

She let out a breathy laugh. "All right."

I cupped her cheek and coaxed her to look at me. "Good morning, my darling."

She smiled widely, still sleepy. "Good morning, my love."

"How did you sleep?" I asked.

She blushed. "Purpose decided I deserved a peaceful night since I'd plucked up the courage to tell you I love you. No roaming, just simple dreams."

I smiled. "I get the feeling I would like this Purpose fellow."

She blushed deeper. "You probably would, considering the fact that he wears your face."

I looked at her confused, but with a bemused smile. "He does?"

She laid back down on my chest. "He's not sure why, but yes, he does. It's your face, but not. There are no scars and his eyes are pure gold instead of your amber."

"You think my eyes are amber?" I questioned, fighting a smirk. "They're brown, like everything in Ferelden."

I felt her laugh against me. "They are not 'brown', Cullen. They are brown with flecks of gold. In lamplight or candlelight, they turn amber, like honey with sunlight shining through. In dim light, they're almost bronze. They are one of my favorite things about you."

"I...thank you." I stroked her back gently. "I-I cannot decide whether I love your eyes, your ears, or your lips most."

She tightened her grip on me. "So long as you love me, your favorite can change on the hour."

It was my turn to laugh. "As you say, my darling."

She sighed heavily. "I suppose I should slip out before it gets much lighter."

A thought occurred to me and I blanched. "Did you...did you tell Cassandra? She's not going to cut me down in honor of your virtue, is she?"

Meira laughed heartily as she sat up. "It was Cass's idea. She's the one that gave me the makeup to use, and she told you to stay here so we could have dinner. It was her idea for me to ask if I could just...be held by you." She blushed a little as she looked me over. "Did you sleep at all?"

"No," I murmured, her face falling as worry flickered across her brow. I sat up on my elbow and put a hand to her cheek. She leaned into my touch. "I didn't mean to worry you."

She met my gaze. "I was hoping that maybe having me here would help with your nightmares," she admitted. "It was foolish to think that, but...I wanted to try."

"Then, I am sorry that I didn't fall asleep to see if it would help," I offered. "I was too...happy."

Her jade eyes flicked to me in surprise before she smiled so freely, my heart twisted. "I am happy, too, Cullen. You make me happy."

My heart ached at those words. How do I make you happy? I rose to meet her lips, my hand sliding to cup the nape of her neck, my fingers twisting in her hair. We fell back against the bed, her hands on my chest, holding my shirt in her fists. I held her head, my other hand on her side. I broke away to brush her nose with mine. "I love you."

I felt her smile. "And I love you." At that, she pulled away to pull on her boots and don her hood.

I laid back on the bed, tucking an arm behind my head as I let out a contented sigh, watching her as she moved about the room. At the door, she turned to look at me, a beautiful smile on her lovely lips before she slipped out the door.

…

Our time ended, we gathered our things quickly to press hard for Haven. I looked back at South Reach as we left, guilt twisting in my gut at the thought of having been so close to my siblings and not seeking them out. Meira's fingers brushed mine and I turned to find her eyes.

"We will come back, Cullen," she murmured, Varric and Cassandra ahead of us. "If you must, blame the Herald."

I smiled gratefully at her. "I won't do that but thank you for offering. I wrote Mia a letter some time ago and have not heard back. I didn't want to show up on her doorstep. She would have welcomed me, but I think...I think we all need some time before that first reunion."

She studied my face and nodded. "I understand, but my love," I met her gaze when she paused before continuing. "It doesn't do to be without family."

I smirked as she turned my own words against me. "I know, my darling. Soon." I looked back at the city fading. "Soon."

I had more than one reason to visit them now. The first, to make up for all my years of absence; to see if they would accept the man their brother had become. The second, to ask Mia if she had Mother's ring. I knew Bran might have used it—and he'd have had more right—but still...I wanted to know. My eyes looked to Meira as she rode her horse with confidence. There was someone in my life I wanted to give it to, and giving her Mother's ring would be as close to Meira being able to meet her as I could do.

The figures that had been shrouded now appeared before me. Terror gripped my heart as my eyes landed upon Cullen and Cassandra. They stood side by side, their faces expressionless, staring into nothing. I knew this wasn't real, but I couldn't help fearing for them. My head was pounding; my skull feeling as if it were trying to come apart, but I forced myself to think. I've felt pain like this before...the demon at the farmlands. Demon. This is a demon. But what kind? I heard a gasp and I jumped before turning to the noise.

Vivienne stalked out of the shadows, a predatory smile on her pretty face. "Is this shape useful?" it questioned in Vivienne's voice. "Will it let me know you?" I stayed silent, but the creature only studied me as it went on. "Everything tells me about you." She approached Cullen, standing behind him as her smile grew wider, nearing unnatural. She circled an arm around him, bringing a dagger to his throat. Maker, please no. "So will this: watch," she purred.

She held her blade still over the spot where Cullen's pulse pounded. It's not real. It's not real. Her eyes stared at me hungrily, but she waited as if wanting me to speak, to react. "Will it let me know you?" It needed me to react. It had sifted through my mind, but that didn't tell it who I was, how I reacted. That's what it was looking for now. I had to outwit it.

A voice spoke - Purpose? Question. Question it. 

It needed me to react, but to do what? So it could imitate me? It had Cullen here and surely it had seen our relationship in my mind. Desire? It held a blade to his throat, which was no desire of mine.

Are you sure? Another voice questioned. I flinched. 

What is going on? I asked myself.

Focus. You need to focus. Question it, Meira.

My mind was getting a little crowded and anger started to burn in my gut, clearing my thoughts. I had suffered at the hands of another demon and this one did not scare me. "A demon. Am I supposed to scream in terror next?" I quirked a brow, my voice deadly calm.

This seem to give the creature pause, but it dragged the dagger across Cullen's throat. I bit back my cry as I watched blood spurt from his open neck. Covering the creature, covering me, covering the ground as he collapsed upon it.

"Scream in terror next?" the creature mimicked, it's voice sounding more like my own than Vivienne’s. It backed away from Cullen's body, swallowed by the misty shadows as an evil smile spread on Vivienne's lips.

"Being you will be so much more interesting than being the Lord Seeker," Cassandra laughed as she sauntered towards me, twirling a dagger between her fingers.

She bared her teeth in a smile as she walked passed me before disappearing. I turned towards her, looking out on where I had entered from. The burning corpses were frozen in their agony, fire burning in their eye sockets. Beyond them, I could see the faint glow of pulsing red lyrium jutting out of the ground.

"Do you know what you can become?" Cassandra's voice asked, her breath on my neck. I whirled towards her, but she was gone. "You'll see." I heard strange murmuring within the fog, faint screams as well. "When I'm done, the Elder One will kill the Herald and ascend. Then I will be the Herald—I'll use your face to get hers."

The Elder One? "Who is this Elder One?" I asked the air.

A cackle in answer. "He is between things. Mortal once, but no longer."

He. "And this Elder One thinks he can become divine?" I questioned. Of course. If this Elder One killed the Divine, would it not make sense that he'd do it to prove he is above the Maker? This Elder One was a fanatic. "That's the oldest conceit of mortals," I growled. That kind of hubris was the cause of the Blight.

Another laugh, but this one brushed the skin on my neck. I twisted around, but once again the creature was gone. Questioning. Curious? A sharp mind is a desirable trait. I clenched my jaw as pain shot through my spine.

"He knows, he was there," Cassandra's voice spoke. There? He was there? What does that mean? I heard footsteps behind me. "Glory is coming." I felt as the creature walked around to face me. Cassandra's dark eyes stared at me, her face stretching into a smile. "And the Elder One wants you to serve him like everyone else: by dying in the right way."

I stared the creature down. I will not die at your hands, nor will I let you use my face. "I saw through your game. What else do you think you can gain?"

Her mouth stretched even further, the smile becoming grotesque. "You are under the mistaken impression that I require consent."

That gave me pause. What demon doesn't require consent? From all my studies, every demon that took your form had to be given consent to do so. This all sounded familiar, but lost in the haze of pain that was constantly pounding in my mind. I had to stall this thing, had to make it take its time. "Keep talking then." Cassandra's face grimaced before she brushed past me.

"I am not your toy!" No, Maker. Please. It was Cullen's voice as it spoke from behind me now. I turned to find him, his face twisted in a snarl as he spoke, his eyes full of hatred. It's not real. "I am Envy and I will know you!" Envy. He stalked towards me, a dagger in hand, his eyes burning into mine. "Tell me, Meira, in your mind..." The Fade shifted. I was facing Cullen and in front of him stood a silhouette of me; like a shadow upon the ground. His eyes met mine. “Tell me what you think,” he growled, before brutally stabbing my silhouette in the back, twisting the blade in. My silhouette cried out before collapsing.

“Tell me what you feel,” he growled again as the Fade changed. I was splayed on a table. I looked around, my heart hammering as I found the creature wearing Cullen’s face. He held a dagger suspended in the air before he plunged it downward. Just as it was about to make contact with my stomach, I was instead observing as Cullen gutted my silhouette to my agonized screams.

The Fade twisted once more. Now I was holding the knife as I plunged it into Cullen’s chest. It wasn’t the creature, but my Cullen. At least, Envy’s attempt at my Cullen. His face crumpled in pain and confusion as his amber eyes looked into mine. “Why?” he asked.

The first of the Maker's children watched across the Veil and grew jealous of the life they could not feel, could not touch. In blackest envy were the demons born. “You’re not real,” I murmured as I put a hand on his cheek.

His face twisted into anger and he grabbed me by the throat. I cried out in pain. “Stop fighting me! I will know you!” he screeched.

He threw me backwards and I felt the Fade shifting as I killed Cassandra, Vivienne and Varric in turn. The Fade twisted and they each killed my silhouette in different ways. Cries. Blood. Screams. Cackles. Envy, the first. Enough! Enough! Enough!

The demon cackled again. “Tell me what you see,” it whispered in my voice.

The room changed. "Elgara vallas, da'len, m elava somniar. Mala taren aravas, a ra ma'desen melar. Iras ma ghilas, da'len, a ra ma'nedan ashir? Dirthara lothlenan'as b al emma mala dir. Tel'enfenim, da'len, irassal ma ghilas. Ma garas mir renan - a ra ma'athlan vhenas. Ara ma'athlan vhena." It was mother’s voice as she sang our lullaby. I blinked. We were in our tent when Ellana and I had been children. Mother sat with us in her arms, singing and stroking our hair. Ellana and I dozed, contented smiles on our faces. 

Such a sweet memory, but what followed?

“You’re a monster!” Deshanna’s voice screeched. She clutched a wound on her arm. Pulling her hand away revealed a blood soaked palm. “You made me do this! You got into my head!” Her eyes were livid as she manipulated the blood from her wound and lunged for me. My child-self locked in a silent scream as her hands gripped my head and neck.

A monster. Is that what you are? Your gifts that let you walk the Fade…they frighten you. Do you fear you will end up…like me? The demon cackled. Oh no, you would be some much more!  

I clutched my head and collapsed to my knees. “This isn’t real!” I yelled.

“Oh, but it is!” Deshanna’s voice spoke. “You walked the Fade; walked my mind and whispered things to me. To others.” She came close to me, whispering in my ear. “You tried to kill Ellana.”

“No! I would never!” I shook my head.

“You did!” Ma’s voice screamed. “We all loved her, cherished her, but you…you wanted to be her!”

“No!” Meira, don’t listen! “I would never hurt her!”

“Would never hurt her!” the demon shouted back.

“Oh, but you would,” it was Cullen’s voice again. Now we were in Kinloch Hold. Cullen was his younger self, a dark brow quirked as he looked me over. “You envied her so, you nearly pitched yourself off the balcony. Pathetic!” He laughed. He came close to me, his eyes searching my face. “Did you want to throw yourself off because deep down you wished you could be her? That she’d never been born? Or that you'd never been born?”

“No!” I shouted.

Meira, it needs you to respond. Don’t.

“Liar,” he smiled as he slipped back into the shadows.

“Shut up!” I shouted.

“Shut up!” The demon echoed. Defiance. Good. You will make this interesting, then. 

“Who could blame you for envying her?” No. No. No! Please, Maker. Andraste. No! Please help me! “What did you get in return for the sacrifices you made?” Otto Alrik sauntered out of the shadows, his cruel eyes devouring me. "And where was your precious templar?" Alrik sneered. "He'd pushed you away, but the Champion of Kirkwall...he'd let her in; clung to her. How it makes you burn with envy!"

“You’re not real! You’re not real!” I screamed. Pain searing me, the memories clawing at me, my mind began to fracture. 

The demon cackled. You are strong-willed. You had to be to endure this. 

No! No! No! The demon began to manipulate the Fade to make me see what happened in that cell again. That’s it. See it. See me. Let me out.  “No!” I bellowed, slamming my fists into the ground. 

Good, Meira! Keep going! It’s not real. None of this is real. You can be in control. 

“Then help me!” I shouted at the voice.

Who are you—ah! What are you doing? The demon screeched. As I had slammed my fists into the ground, the Fade had shifted. No longer anything, but that first room. Empty of everything, but the arches and torches. The light was comforting instead of eerie. The grass green instead of dead.

Enough, the demon hissed as it shifted the Fade.

Now we were in Haven. Before me stood Ellana, looking beautiful. Her twisted hair falling around her as she wore a white dress. Ears decorated with gold, her face glowing with the tree of Mythal.

“And now? You envy me still,” she smiled. “How could you not?” She began to circle me. “Untouched by the difficulties of life. Cherished and adored. Prized and worshiped. The Herald of Andraste!” She stood behind me. “But she doesn’t even believe in Andraste. Doesn’t even believe in the Maker. Both of whom you so cherish. So ardently believe in. Will you grieve when the Elder One topples them?” Shut up! Shut up! “You cling to this faith. This false hope because you know if you don’t lie to yourself, you’d give in to that darkness that lurks inside you.” She cackled. “And yet, she spits in the face of the only thing that keeps you from breaking completely! How it makes you red inside!”

“That’s not true!” I screamed. Tears were streaming down my face. "I love her."

“I love her!” Love. The sacrificial kind. Disgusting. 

You must fight it!

“I can’t,” I sobbed. “What if…what if it’s right?”

It’s not, Meira. It’s not.

Honest. Tricky.

Fight it, Meira! 

“I don’t know how!” I wept, pain and doubt gripping my fraying mind.

“Who are you talking to?” The demon hissed. “Be silent!”

You do! Don’t be afraid of it. Of yourself. I will help you! See what you want and reshape the Fade! Skin slick with sweat, panting for breath with my heart pounding in my chest and mind swirling with chaotic thoughts I reached for the only thing I knew would help me focus: Remember the fire. You must pass through it alone to be forged anew. Look! Look upon the Light so you may lead others here through the darkness, Blade of the Faith! Through the pain and the tears, I glared at the demon. "The first of the Maker's children watched across the Veil and grew jealous of the life they could not feel, could not touch. In blackest envy were the demons born."

The demon hissed, Ellana's face contorting into a bestial snarl. "Be silent!"

Stand, Meira. It can't control you.

Forcing myself to bear the pain, I stood on one foot and then the other. I straightened myself until I stood tall before the demon. "Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood, the Maker's will is written."

"I said be silent!" the demon screeched, but it took a step back.

Keep going, Meira. Push it back.

"Now, with their Father's eyes elsewhere, the firstborn at last created something new: Envy. They looked upon the living world and the favored sons and daughters there, covetous of all they were. Within their hearts grew an intolerable hunger. Until, at last, some of the firstborn said: 'Our Father has abandoned us for these lesser things. We have power over heaven. Let us rule over earth as well and become greater gods than our Father'." I chuckled without humor. "But you can't, can you?"

The demon snarled. "But you can't, can you?" Mocking. Are you cruel? It grabbed me by the throat again, searing pain along my skin as it did. It threw me through a door. If you won't be broken by your own envy, let me show you what I will do with your face.

Within the main hall of Therinfal Redoubt, I watched as the others fought the corrupted templars and fell one by one.

By the time we're finished, all will be red.  

The demon shifted the scene to make me watch as Cullen, Cassandra, Vivienne, Varric and Barris were dragged away to be forcibly fed philters of red lyrium. They fought with everything they had, but to no avail. Vivienne and Varric became horrors, tearing apart anything they came in contact with; Barris and Cassandra became hulking masses of muscle and lyrium.

But Cullen...Oh, Cullen. He fought like a wild animal; thrashing, kicking and screaming until they'd pinned all of his limbs to the ground. He cried out, the cry tearing at my very soul, as the red liquid was poured into his wrenched open mouth. Once done, they released him. He turned onto his side, curling into a ball as he sobbed. Eventually, he uncurled himself and slowly stood. His honey eyes were now crimson and pulsing as they met mine. I watched as the scar on his lip fractured up to his hair, splitting apart as red lyrium grew out of it. The other side of his face remained his as it twisted into a bitter smile. His single eye continued to look at me for a moment before he raised his sword to slaughter the others. He cut his way through as many as he could, until he fell to his knees. He threw his head back as he screamed in agony. I watched in horror as his body broke apart, growing and growing until he was a behemoth of a creature. A creature made entirely of red lyrium, my Cullen gone.

Tears of rage wet my cheeks as I watched it unfold. This isn't real. I will never let that happen. Anger was burning in my gut again, growing, clearing my head. 

Think, Meira. See what you want to see. 

I imagined a door to my right and looked to find one. I walked to it, swinging it open. 

Turning away. Bravery or desperation?

The next room held groups of people, but beyond, the way was blocked by strange looking fire.

"Our enemies have surrendered unconditionally," an Inquisition scout spoke to my silhouetted form.

"The Inquisition's strength rivals that of any kingdom in Thedas," a soldier said.

"Our reach begins to match my ambition, but we will strive for more," the demon spoke as it tried to imitate me. I will use your sister's trust in you to let me deliver her to the Elder One. It should be of comfort for you to know that your deaths will be the catalyst for the Inquisition to meet its fullest potential. Of course, no one will ever forget what I do to them when I am you and then the Herald. The demon cackled.

I smirked. Not if I have anything to say about it. "Is imitating what you can’t have your only pleasure, demon?" 

Accusing… trying to find my weakness. Is that the female you are? I ignored the sharp pain in my mind and pressed on. Stop that! 

Green flames burst into existence around me, the heat intense where I stood too close. I took a deep breath and walked through them. They cannot burn me. 

Stop it! 

As I made my way though the flames, my heart pounding as I began to feel the heat, I heard the other people in the room speak. 

"How quickly the Inquisition’s influence has spread! Kings and queens seek out its counsel."

"Who would stand against us when the Inquisition commands nations?" "No one wise."

"The Herald saved all of us. Our army could tear down a kingdom!" "No force matches ours for strength."

"When the Chantry fell, we despaired. But the Herald of Andraste brought us light! The people stand in awe of the Inquisition!"

Do you see how glorious my Inquisition will be after your sister dies at the hands of the Elder One?

"You’re hurting, helpless, hasty. What happens to the hammer when there are no more nails?" A new, gentle voice questioned.

What are you? Get out! This is my place!

I had come to more fire. I tried to will myself to walk through, but cried out as it burned me. The demon cackled. There was another door to my right. I went through to find a bedroom. Except the furniture was on the ceiling and walls. Everything odd. This truly isn't real. I looked around, but the room was empty. I turned to leave.

"Wait," that gentle voice called out. I turned, but found nothing. "Envy is hurting you." The voice came from behind me, but when I looked, no one was there. Yet I had a sense that I knew the owner of this voice, had seen whom it belonged to before. "Mirrors on mirrors on memories. A face it can feel, but not fake. I want to help. You, not Envy."

I was getting irritated. I'd had enough voices speaking to me, I did not need another. Yet, I could sense no malice from this voice, only a desire to help. Spirit? "Who are you?"

"I've been watching. I'm Cole. We're inside you. Or I am. You're always inside you." The voice spoke. The more it spoke, the more it eased the pain pouring in my head and lancing through my limbs. "It's easy to hear, harder to be a part of what you’re hearing. But I’m here, hearing, helping. I hope. Envy hurt you, is hurting you. I tried to help. Then I was here, in the hearing. It’s—it’s usually not like this."

I turned to find a young boy standing on the ceiling. His clothes were raggedy and he wore an overlarge, floppy hat atop his white-blond head. His hair fell into his eyes, and I couldn't tell if they were blue or grey. He was pale, thin and phantasmal. Yet, I still felt only a willingness to help emanating from him. Not the ever present pain I'd been suffering since the demon had dragged me within its prison.

"If you can help, I'm listening." As I said the words, a growl and a bone-chilling shriek sounded outside the room. 

"I was watching. I watch. Every templar knew when you arrived. They were impressed, but not like the Lord Seeker," Cole explained as he sat upon the head of the bed. 

I turned back to Cole, meeting his eyes as he clasped his hands in front of him. "The 'Lord Seeker' is an envy demon. It wants to be me."

"Yes," Cole stated. "It twisted the commanders, forced their fury, their fight. They’re red inside. Anyway, you’re frozen, Envy is trying to take your face, I heard it—and you—and reached out, and then in, and then I was here."

"So you are a spirit?" I asked.

"If it bothers you, I can make you forget. That helps." Cole shrugged before he thought a moment. He shook his head, his large hat flopping as he did. "No, you need all of you to fight. Maybe later."

"How is my body frozen back in the waking world?" I asked.

"Thoughts are fast. We’re here. Outside, a blade is still falling, hanging in the air like a sunset," Cole explained.

"I need to get out. The longer I stay in here, the more frayed I am becoming."

"That's right. Wriggling, writhing, waiting; whispers along your skin, within your mind. Is it me or is it not? Oh, Maker! Oh, Maker!" Cole spoke. I was confused for a moment as his speech became odd, his tone different. "It would be good if you got out."

"All right 'Cole'," I nodded. "If you really want to help, how do I get out?"

"It’s your head. I hoped you’d know how to stop it," Cole replied.

"Well, I don’t," I frowned.

"All of this is Envy: people, places, power," Cole appeared before a fireplace, staring into the fire within the hearth. "If you keep going, Envy stretches. It takes strength to make more. Being one person is hard. Being many, too many, more and more, and Envy breaks down, you break out."

"So, if we keep moving in my 'head', we tire Envy into submission?" I asked.

"Maybe," Cole met my eyes. "I hope it helps. It’s more than sitting here waiting to lose your face."

"I think I can help as well," Purpose spoke as he appeared beside the boy. Purpose threw an arm around Cole's shoulders and smiled broadly. "Hello, Compassion." He still wore Cullen's face, but it was free of the years of pain and stress—still young and boyish. Free of the scar on his lip and his hair was curled. He didn't wear Cullen's armor or the armor of a templar, but casual clothes of fine make. He had a sword strapped to his back as well.

"Hello, Purpose," Cole stated.

Purpose's pure gold eyes landed on me and softened. "I'm sorry that I couldn't be of more help to you before. Envy is strong. It kept me from coming to you." Purpose patted Cole's hat. "Thanks to Compassion here, though, the demon is losing its grip. Same as you, beautiful."

I stammered a moment. "What do you mean?"

"You've been so strong. Fighting back and pushing the demon. It's losing its iron grip on this part of the Fade because its too distracted by trying to take your form," Purpose explained. "While Compassion was helping you stay whole, I was only able to whisper words of motivation to try and slow the demon's breaking of your mind. You listened—you didn't have to, you could have given up; you almost did, but you fought through."

"Why would you help me?" I questioned the spirits. Their eyes met mine.

Purpose chuckled. "Compassion doesn't have much of a choice." He flicked the rim of Cole's hat. "And did I not tell you that I would help you?" Purpose looked at me, the gold burning. "I have stuck by you through much, Meira. You've come so close; I will help you reach the end."

"End?" I asked.

"Your purpose—I want to help you realize it," he shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Why? What is it?" I searched his face. So like Cullen's and yet so different.

He looked away from me. "That's for you to discover."

"And that's not an answer, spirit," I growled. 

"It's the best I can do," he smirked. "It's not yours if I tell you. You must strive for it. What did you say? 'Remember the fire. You must pass through it alone to be forged anew'?" Purpose studied my face. "We can help you, but you must face this trial on your own. We cannot do it for you."

I nodded. "Then help me however you can, please."

"This way," Cole waved for me to follow. We exited the room and stood before the strange flames. "Thoughts are loud here—you already know, but you can't always walk through fire. That takes a lot of strength. Make it simpler. Think of water."

  The flames were pouring out of the mouths of mabari statues, like the ones in Haven. I took a deep breath and imagined the flames becoming fountains of water. The Fade shifted in response. The heat and anger of the flames became the coolness and serenity of water; powerful still, but the power of peace over chaos. 

Those things cannot help you. I will see more.

Ignoring the demon, I headed for the door. The pain of the demon's voice was far less agonizing as Cole and Purpose stood next to me.

"Wait, Meira," Purpose said. "I sense something. Come this way. Compassion, go on ahead."

Cole nodded his head and disappeared. Purpose led me to a door I had not seen, it was blocked by a magical barrier. "How do you spirits function here?" I asked aloud as I worked magic to break the barrier. "This place is enough to drive anyone mad."

Purpose laughed. "For you mortals, maybe. To spirits and demons, this is all normal. Ever shifting, ever changing; change is as natural to us as it is unnatural to you. That's what we do; we change, we adapt. While you desperately cling to immutability, which is a fallacy. Change is inevitable, especially for mortals. You age, you die, you face challenges that break and shape you. Why you cling so hard to what was, instead of embracing what is and what could be…I could go mad thinking about it."

We walked into the sealed room to find a grotesque statue. Half human and half creature. I had a feeling I was looking at Envy and the Lord Seeker. "What am I looking at, Purpose?" I asked.

"I believe your looking at the reason why Envy was brought forth," Purpose stated as he bent towards the statue. "Place your hand upon it, Meira, and ask it to reveal its knowledge to you."

"Just ask it?" I questioned.

Purpose smirked. "You're a Dreamer, Meira. When will you realize that means you can make the Fade and everything within it do what you want? You want the Fade to change? imagine it different. You want statues to speak? tell them to. You want spirits to help you? ask them. It is not malicious in nature; you are simply more like us than you realize. The Fade bends around you because like calls to like."

"More like you? Like spirits?" I asked, studying the stone.

"Yes," Purpose nodded. "What do you believe defines a person? Their body or their soul—their spirit? Their nature?"

"But spirits can change their nature, people cannot so easily do that," I argued.

"Is that so?" Purpose quirked a dark brow, his gold eyes filled with humor. "It may not be easy because mortals are of the immutable world, but it can be done. If it couldn't, how would mortals ever love? Ever trust? Ever grow? In fact, what mortals experience is true change. What spirits and demons experience is simply a shift in reality."

"What do you mean?" I searched his face.

"I can be Purpose or Desire. I cannot be anything else," he shrugged. "Perhaps my nature as Purpose is more complex than the word implies, but I cannot be any other spirit. I cannot become Wisdom or Compassion or Valor. I can only stay Purpose and grow within that parameter; or I can become Desire and only bring harm to mortals by twisting what they most want, most long for, into their worst nightmares." His face fell. "But you, you beautiful mortals, you can become anything. Broken can become whole. Cruelty can become compassion. Envy can become contentment. Betrayal can become forgiveness. It may be hard, may be impossible for some, but you can change. We simply remain the same. It is that fact that leads to so many spirits becoming corrupted. We long for change—real change—but cannot have it. It is what tempted me to become Desire and let Alrik use me." His gold eyes met mine and I saw him flickering around the edges. "Forgive me, Meira."

He was fighting his other nature as he spoke these words. I placed a hand on his arm. "You are Purpose, not Desire. Let us leave what happened in the past, in the past." I offered a small smile. "I blame Alrik, not you."

Shame crossed his features. "I do not deserve such...mercy."

"You're here to help me. You have been helping. Do not give into your darker nature for shame of the past," I murmured. "Stay with me and help me. That seems to be your purpose now."

His eyes met mine in surprise. "You are quick." He smiled broadly. "Now, let's free you of Envy." He took my hand and placed it upon the statue. 

I closed my eyes. Speak to me. A rotting, haunted voice answered. "A whisper, followed out of dream. A beckoning thread of power. At the end of it a figure, crowned in imperial red, seen through a tear in the air. The Elder One, demanding servitude with an offer impossible to resist. Leader of the Seekers. Commander of knights. Lord Seeker Lucius Corin, master of templars." 

That will not help you!

I turned to Purpose, nearly able to block out Envy's voice now. "What does this mean?"

"It's what the Elder One used to lure Envy out of the Fade with, I would guess," Purpose studied the statue. "Envy was looking for a purpose. For someone's face to steal; for someone to become. This Elder One dangled the Lord Seeker before its eyes and it saw a tempting prize: leader, commander, master. What greater titles for a demon that wants what another has? In exchange, Envy belongs to the Elder One."

Quiet you! 

"Did I upset you?" Purpose taunted. His gold eyes found me. "Let's go, Meira. We've rattled the beast."

 I followed Purpose out of the sealed room, past the fountains and through another door. It exploded as I went to open it, knocking me backwards. Envy cackled.  Everything in my vision went white. I blinked until the blazing white dimmed after a few moments. Purpose was gone again. Before me stood Ellana, Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine. They surrounded the war table, but upon it was my body impaled by Cullen's sword. I was gurgling, choking on my own blood as my scared eyes looked up at them all.

"Meira?" Ellana cried, but Cullen kept her away from me. "If you hadn't stopped her, I'm not sure what would have happened."

"Sh-she was...she was an abomination," Cullen stammered, his eyes lost as he looked me over. "I...I had to do it. She would have killed you otherwise."

"When did she become possessed?" Leliana asked. "At Therinfal?"

"No," Cullen shook his head. "She was...she was herself. We'd been separated, but when we found each other again she was herself."

Oh, this will be such a sweet end for you. The man you love forced to kill you when you go raving mad with envy towards the Herald. You claw at her, trying to kill her. He thinks you're an abomination; that fear that's been gnawing at the back of his mind every time he looks at you given flesh. What does he feel as he impales you to that table? Relief? The demon cackled. They won't notice that I slipped from you to the Herald as easy as putting on a new shirt. Believing the threat is ending as the blood drains from your body in front of them. You silently cry for them to hear you as you warn them, but they do not listen. Then, I will wield the Inquisition like a sword. Betrayed allies will curse the Herald's name. Like the first Inquisition, she will bring blood and ruin and fear!

"Unless you don’t let it in," Cole stated. "You don’t have to. None of this is real unless you let it be."

Get out, thing! I am learning!

"This will never come to pass," Purpose growled. "Keep moving, Meira. Stretch it!"

I pushed past the scene, ignoring the tears in my eyes. "I would do everything in my power to not let you succumb to that fate, but I trust you would do everything in your power to never let that fate come to pass." I would, Cullen. I will. Though stung with a hundred arrows, though suffering from ailments both great and small, his heart was strong, and he moved on. The deep dark before dawn's first light seems eternal, but know that the sun always rises. Though the lands suffer a thousand wrongs, the Maker yet notices the smallest of deeds. 

I went through another door that I willed to appear to the demon's hiss. It opened to a stone hall that mimicked the one beneath the Chantry in Haven. I moved on to archways opening to prison cells. Entering one, I found an Orlesian man pacing behind the cell bars as a soldier watched.

"Do you confess to conspiring against the Herald of Andraste?" the soldier demanded.

"I confess nothing!" the Orlesian argued. "The Inquisition took my land and turned out my family!"

"Then your sons will be executed in the absence of a declaration of guilt," the soldier growled.

"What? They’re just children!" the man sobbed.

Does the death of children, of innocents, cause you to despair? How does it claw at your mind to think I will use you to slaughter them by the thousands?

I left the cell and went to another. Within the cell was Mother Giselle. Instead of a soldier, the silhouette of me stood before her. The silhouette was becoming more defined, but it still looked grotesque and as it spoke, its voice was more demonic than a true imitation of mine. "What do you have to say to your crimes, heretic?"

"This is a farce!" Giselle fearlessly cried. "I demand justice!"

"Have it," the demon waved a hand. "Take her to the gallows!"

Will you weep to know that the Chantry you cling to will be razed to the ground as the people bow to the Herald in faith? The Maker and Andraste cast aside as false gods in the face of the Elder One? 

"No one will believe you are me, demon," I hissed.

The demon cackled in response. Do your friends know you so well? Not as well as I'll know you.

I left that cell behind to find Purpose leaning against the wall. "Good, Meira. Don't let it rattle you. Nothing is real here. It is trying to break you; to touch more of you. You're angry and growing angrier. It will keep you focused."

 I followed the hall, finding an eerie mist shrouding the back wall. To the left and right were two more cells. I spotted Cole observing the prisoner in one, his lips pulled into a frown. I made my way to him, ignoring the figures of Rylen and a sobbing Orlesian. Rylen had a cruel smile on his face as he observed the terrified man begging for his life. That is not Rylen. Cole met my eyes as I entered the room, his own unreadable. He glanced to the prisoner. I looked and my heart broke to find Cullen—my Cullen—pacing the bars like a great cat. He was livid, his eyes blazing as he stared at something that wasn't there. 

"I have questions, Commander," the demon spoke, materializing before the cell in my silhouette, grasping the bars as it leaned against them.

"Is it my turn to be branded a traitor for questioning what we've become?" Cullen growled, getting in the demon's face. "Have you finally tired of your plaything?" He spit. "I deserve it. I let my love for her blind me to you; I let you turn the Inquisition into a butcher's pit because I would not lose my last connection to her."

So broken will he be by driving that blade into your heart, he'll willingly come to my arms. Doing anything and everything I ask because I have your face. And will I use him. In every way possible. Because you had him, so will I. 

Rage lit my insides. "I will kill you, demon," I shouted at the air.

"Kill you," the demon mimicked. Protective or possessive?

"It's dark, but it isn't real. Think of sparks. Keep going up. You’re more you there than you are Envy, and that tires it out," Cole instructed.

"That's a little cryptic, Compassion," Purpose chuckled. "He means you need to find light in the darkness, Meira." Purpose's gold eyes found mine. "What does that look like?"

Silence!

Light in the darkness? Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost. I closed my eyes and pictured light. Comforting, warm, guiding. I imagined the candles lit in the Chantry; the candles of the library of the Circle; the fire of the clan as we all sat around to listen to the hahren's tales; the light in Cullen's eyes as he looked at me with adoration. Opening my eyes, Cole was gone and in his place was a brazier. I stepped towards it and looked to Cullen, who still paced behind the cell bars. Lighting the brazier, I imagined a better end for this darkness.

"I would very much like to...kiss you. May I?" Cullen murmured as he looked lovingly at me. "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." His eyes continued to study me as if it were the real Cullen. "What the Maker has created, no one can tear asunder," he promised. The bars of the cell disappeared and I wrapped my arms around him. "How are you, my darling?"

I smiled into his shoulder. "I love you," I whispered and he disappeared. The demon hissed in response.

I worked my way back through the cells, lighting braziers that had now appeared there. Mother Giselle began to speak the Chant, it fading away slowly as she too disappeared. The Orlesian was reunited with his sons, embracing them as he sobbed with relief; his children's echoing laughter warming my heart as they were freed. 

Purpose smiled widely at me. "Keep going!"

I went to the cell that I had not entered before. Josephine was within. "Four days without food, one without water… I wish the Herald would tell me what she wants me to confess."

I lit her brazier. Josephine laughed delightedly as Cullen and Leliana joined in, they stood around the war table and Ellana stood opposite them. They were all happy, enjoying each other's friendship before they disappeared. A door came into existence at their departure. I could feel Envy's anger growing with each obstacle I tore down, each wrong I righted.

"Excellent, Meira," Purpose encouraged. "That is as simple as it is. You think what you want to see and it becomes. You have that power. Nothing in the Fade can stop you—especially if you continue to grow your powers and remain unafraid." He waved for me to follow. "There's another piece of Envy's puzzle, come on."

Purpose led me to a brazier that had appeared next to Rylen and the weeping Orlesian. I lit it. Rylen now comforted the man, assuring that he was safe and the Inquisition would protect him and his family. The mist disappeared, a wall pushing back, but the progress was slow. I reached out a hand to the stone and it dissolved into dust. Envy let out a frustrated snarl.

We came to another grotesque statue, this one more human than demon. I placed my hand upon it and that dead voice spoke again. "Weeks of studying, learning, imitating. The Lord Seeker reveals who he is, what he is, with every sharp-tongued reaction. Lucius Corin abandoned, hidden after taking his face, his armor, his templars. Easy as slipping into new skin. The Herald of Andraste protests as the templars leave the city. Small. Unimportant. Beneath a Lord Seeker's notice, but for instructions from the Elder One."

"Seems Envy didn't see the opportunity your sister presented when it first encountered her," Purpose stated.

"And it sounds like the Lord Seeker resisted the demon, but it doesn't matter," I mused. "Envy takes your face whether you want it to or not. It only needs to study you long enough to become you. And it's not possession, it exists as you while you may still live or be dead elsewhere."

That's right. Does that make you afraid? It should. The longer you're trapped here, the more I know of you.

"You'll just have to kill it," Purpose replied.

"Gladly," I growled.

"Gladly," the demon repeated. Aggressive. Yet kind. You are complex.

"It's time to move, Meira," Purpose nodded his head back the way we came.

I headed towards Josephine's cell and went through the door there. A flight of stairs met me and I climbed it quickly. 

You wish to be difficult? Then see the legacy of the Inquisition! It’s followers hosts to demons! Your world—ashes!

"It can’t make you, not anymore," Cole spoke gently as he appeared in front of me. "You are getting too strong." 

Shut! Up! Thing! 

"Almost there," Cole encouraged. "Keep going up."

"What then?" I asked him as I climbed the stairs.

"You’re making it hard for Envy to think," Cole explained. "It’ll probably come out soon. It’s angry. But that’s okay. So are you."

The door opened to a forest. Branches snapped and quivered with the movement of creatures within the trees. Smoke rolled beneath the trunks, causing my eyes to water, as it carried the lingering smell of burning corpses. Voices, screams, cries, shouts and roars echoed all around. Sounds of battle and people running drew nearer.

"They say the Herald summoned these demons after Celene was murdered," an Orlesian voice spoke within the trees.

"An abomination! Why did no one realize?" Another voice questioned.

"Quiet! I hear something," the first hushed. 

Roars echoed and their answering screams were cut off. Demons? Celene murdered? Was this the plot of this Elder One?

"You’re letting her see more to sketch her shapes, but what she sees makes her stronger," Cole bit at the demon.

Quiet!

I kept moving through the forest, hearing as unseen people died around me at the hands of demons. I will not let this come to pass. I pushed myself harder, faster, the pain from the demon that had been paralyzing now nothing more than an annoyance. Stairs appeared ahead while beneath me the ground began to shift. I felt the malice of Envy, it was trying to attack me. But it was slow and I simply had to keep moving to get out of range.

I made my way up a few flights of stairs, and found Purpose leaning against the rail of the next. "One more piece, Meira," he stated. "Follow me." He made a path through the forest to a final statue.

This one had the face of a man, whom I could only assume was the Lord Seeker. I put my hand on the stone and when the voice spoke this time it was the voice of the Lord Seeker. "Growing disbelief. The Herald, leading nobles, shining men and women whose power chokes a country. The Inquisition, rising larger than the templars. Unbearable envy. What is a Lord Seeker compared to what the Herald will become? Seething, consumed with want. Dreaming, wanting, needing to wear the Herald of Andraste's face when next meeting the Elder One."

"You taunted it with the nobles and it had to have you," Purpose explained. "Envy's weakness is—to no one's surprise—envy. When you showed what the Herald could be, it had no use for the Lord Seeker and revealed itself. It made it's move too soon and it will be it's downfall. I wonder if its master will be pleased?"

Shut up, Purpose!

"No, shan't," Purpose mocked the demon. "You are pathetic and no match for Meira. I will happily watch her dispatch you." Envy hissed. Purpose turned to me, a hand on my shoulder. "It cannot touch you now. Find it, fight it, and escape."

I nodded. "Thank you, Purpose."

"Don't be a stranger, Meira," he smiled. "I look forward to seeing you in the Fade again. Maybe not in the clutches of a demon or a crazed Keeper though, hmm?"

I laughed, hardly believing I could. "I couldn't agree more."

"Happy, hoping, healing. Did we help?" Cole asked as he appeared beside Purpose.

"You did, Compassion," Purpose patted the boy's shoulder. "But your job's not done yet."

"I know." Cole stated. "Envy is close. Keep going. Don't be afraid."

"I'm not," I smiled at them. "Thanks to you."

 They disappeared and I was now standing in front of a flight of stairs. These stairs were a copy of the ones that led up to the main hall of Therinfal Redoubt. I hurried up them and opened the large doors. Within, the fight between the templars and the red templars was frozen. Swords hanging in the air, the dying not quite upon the ground, defiant yells held on silent mouths. I searched the room, but did not see the others. No doubt a feeble attempt to frighten me by the demon. I made my way to the door it had dragged me out of, through another courtyard where corrupted templars were gathering, to another door that stood open. The room was empty, but I knew the demon was close. I felt a hand on my shoulder as I was spun around; that old pain returning as the demon made contact. It was stuck in the silhouette of me, incomplete. A shade. It's eyes were nothing but green fire as they looked at me. The demon grabbed my throat and slammed me into a wall, lifting me up. The haze returned, threatening my ability to think.

“Unfair, unfair! That thing kept you whole, kept you from giving me your shape!” The demon whined.

"What could you gain from being me?" I asked, trying to distract it as I summoned an ice dagger in my palm.

"What could you gain?" Envy tried to mimic, but it's voice was more it than me. "What… ugh!" It growled in frustration. Bringing a hand to my temple, I cried out in pain as strange magic burned across my skin. We’ll start again. More pain this time. The Elder One still comes.

"It’s frightened of you," Cole murmured.

Envy dropped its hand as it looked around for Cole. My pain eased just enough that I finished the dagger.

Get out of— 

I kicked Envy away before charging it, plunging the dagger into it's gut. The demon shrieked as everything blazed white.

…

I awoke upon the floor. That smell of death and blood filling my nostrils as the sounds of battle roared in my ears. I sensed that I was not alone. Wrenching myself up, I found a horrifying sight before me. A demon—Envy—clutching its gut wound as it unfurled itself before me. It was nauseating to look at: it's face was comprised of mutilated scars and a gaping mouth; it had multiple arms and its legs were more akin to arms and hands than legs. It was humanoid in appearance, but bestial in its movements. It stood; its face turned in my direction, but it had no eyes.

I jumped to my feet and palmed my staff. "I swore I would kill you,” I promised.

The demon opened its mouth and let out a high-pitched shriek that made my ears ring. For its large size, it was astonishingly fast as it skittered out of the room. A cloud of smoke was left in its wake as it flew back to the main hall. I turned back to the room, finding it no longer empty, but a mess of broken furniture, boarded windows, papers, blood and writing all over the walls and stone floor. In the middle, sat a table littered with papers and a bust of...Empress Celene. The bust had a dagger stabbed through its face, a piece of parchment attached to the blade. 

Cole appeared from behind the bust. "The Elder One wants her dead. Empress Celene. He hates her, haunts her, wants her dead, but hides why. He hid other things, too."

"We will need to find out why," I murmured. "But that is something to be addressed after we escape this place. Cole, where are the others?"

"Fighting, fearful, fearsome. Where is she? Where is she?" Cole spoke, his voice changing again like it had before. He looked at me and blinked. "Why do you look like that? That is not your face."

"Did I...look different in the Fade?" I asked the boy.

"Yes," Cole sounded worried. "Did...did Envy win? That’s the face it saw—that it wanted to steal."

"No, Cole," I shook my head. "I...I can't explain right now."

"Wait," Cole said, "I see. You are you, but also her. You must be both to keep her safe."

"Yes, Cole."

"You're helping?" Cole questioned.

"I am trying to," I smiled. 

"We need to help the others," Cole stated, his voice worried. "They fear for you and that fear is distracting them. Red—red everywhere, inside. Rage and pain and the endless song. I must make the others hear the song!"

"What are you doing when you speak like that, Cole?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

"I hear others, not just you," Cole offered.

"Hear others?" I questioned. "As in, you can hear what they're thinking?"

"Yes."

"That's amazing!" I exclaimed.

"And scary," Cole agreed. "But it helps me help them." A worried look crossed his face. "The lyrium—it's wrong, but I feel that thirst. Luring me in, sweet caresses begging me to drink. No! No! Where are you? Where are you? Please, Maker, let her be safe!" He met my eyes again. "We need to go find them."

My mind went to the images of the others being forced red lyrium. That bitter smile on Cullen's face. "Let's hurry."

 Cole ran out the door and I followed. We worked our way through the courtyard and back to the main hall, the corrupted templars absent within the courtyard. Cole disappeared as we entered the hall. To my shock, the corrupted templars had been defeated, their mutilated bodies littering the ground. The templars that had not fallen to the red lyrium had set up barricades, taken up positions around the hall, and were standing in defensive formations before each of the entry points. As I entered the hall, a few raised their swords.

"Herald?" Barris's voice questioned, his green eyes boring into mine. The swords lowered. "Where did you come from? Did you see that...thing before it came in here?"

"It's an envy demon," I answered the man. "It replaced the Lord Seeker. I need to know where the others are so we can kill it."

Barris blanched at my words. His eyes flicking away from me. I followed his gaze to find a huge, magical barrier blocking off the front half of the hall. "Envy? Maker. Then the real Lord Seeker is caged or dead."

"It seems that way," I murmured. "Barris, the others. We need them."

He took a moment to collect himself. "The Seeker, the mage, and the dwarf went to find any remaining senior templars to bring them here. We need the veterans' expertise—even more so if we're to face an envy demon. Cullen went with them, but he was to find you." Barris turned to the door opposite me. "They thought you'd been dragged through that door. Perhaps that was Envy's trick." Barris's face fell. "We were to join them, but waves of the red ones keep coming."

"I'll be back. We can come up with a plan when I have the others," I stated. "Keep fighting."

He gave me a salute. "To the last, Herald."

I ran for the other door and threw myself through it. Racing across the courtyard, I felt Cole appear beside me. "Will I be too late? Maker, please, help me. Andraste, guide me." 

I heard the sounds of fighting coming from an open gate. We ran through and I came to a halt. Cassandra, Varric, and Vivienne were fighting a behemoth alongside a few senior templars. I looked around, but did not see Cullen. Please...please don't tell me—

"Herald?" Cassandra's voice called between swings of her blade. "Thank the Maker!" I charged forward, palming my staff to join their fight. "No, we have this in hand. Find the Commander!"

"Where is he?" I shouted.

"While we were distracted with this, a few of the corrupted templars dragged him off," Cassandra answered. "Find him, Herald!"

Cole appeared beside me once more as I ran to the door Cassandra had pointed towards. "I hear the song, see their eyes, know its foul and yet…lips cracking, stomach burning, saliva flooding my mouth as my heart pounds in anticipation. It'd make the nightmares stop, make the pain go away. I'd forget everything. Forget it all. No! NO! I shall endure! Meira! Meira!" 

I stopped mid-step and nearly tripped. I looked to Cole. "Is that...is that Cullen?"

"He needs your help," Cole stated simply.

 Fear and rage gripped my heart. Taking a Fade Step, I crossed the entirety of the space between the door and us. With a defiant yell, the door burst apart with ice magic and I Fade Stepped down the flight of stairs that opened to a dungeon. I froze where I was, unsure if I had escaped Envy's prison. He was fighting like a cornered animal; his eyes nearly black as his pupils were dilated with panic and fear. He thrashed, kicked, punched because his sword missing. They tackled him to the ground, pinning his arms and legs down.

"You left the Order, but you'll want this song, Knight-Captain," one of the corrupted templars cackled. "Samson sends his regards," he said as he shook a philter of red lyrium above Cullen. "Open his mouth." Two others stalked forward and bent to wrench Cullen's mouth open. I could see the terror in his face, listened as he let out that same cry.

"Cullen!" I yelled and threw one of my blades towards him.

 I had distracted his captors just long enough he could wrench himself free from their grip. He scooped up the blade and skewered the templar that had been about to pour the red lyrium down his throat on its blade. He roared as he sprung into action, his eyes blazing with a ferocity I'd never seen. With a yell, I slammed my staff into the ground, freezing a few of them, before I used the staff to launch myself at the others as I drew my sword. Leaping at one, I plunged the blade into the break at their shoulder. Wrenching the blade free as he cried out in anguish, I twisted towards another and separated his head from his shoulders. Cullen was facing down the rest, his blade before him. I put my back against his. He scooped up a shield and I could feel him heaving breaths against me.

"M-Herald?" he gasped. "Where-what—"

"Later, Commander," I growled as I stared down the approaching templars. "For now, let's kill these monsters."

 Cullen grunted in agreement. We stayed back to back as they surrounded us. Together, we moved as one. Where he was open, I struck; where I was vulnerable, he protected. We moved around each other like a fluid dance, arms and legs as one body as if we'd done it a thousand times. I summoned magic to shield him; he swept and I ducked, his swing shattering ones I had frozen. We danced and danced until they were all cut down around us. We'd pressed into each other. The only sound that of our panting breaths. Eventually, we straightened and turned to each other. His face was flecked with blood and a few cuts, his armor splattered. Amber eyes searched my face as he continued to breathe heavily. His pupils had constricted, but he was pale and shaking.

I gazed into his eyes as I tried to catch my breath. "Are yo—"

He crashed against me in a ferocious kiss. Desperate, afraid, as if in need of assurance that I was real, his lips learned my own. His gloved fingers fisted the hair at the base of my neck, his other hand on my hip as he curved around me. Just as it bordered on too much, he broke away. His eyes were burnished bronze as they drank in my face. "I-I lost sight of you. I...I feared—"

I put a hand on his cheek. "I am all right," I assured. "We need to move. The others are fighting and Barris can't hold the main hall for much longer."

He straightened, his eyes turning fierce as he searched the room. Handing me my blade, he stepped away to look for his own sword and shield. Upon finding them, one of the templars jumped up to try and attack him. Cullen turned so swiftly, his eyes blazing with fury, as he thrust his sword through the templar with all of his strength. The blade went through the templar's front until it protruded through his back. Cullen snarled as he wrenched the blade up, causing the templar's body to jerk in reaction. Cullen then kicked his sword free before shaking the blood off as he stared down at the corrupted templars with disgust. His eyes met mine, not hiding that ruthlessness he could possess.

"We need to go,” he growled.

I nodded and followed behind him as he climbed the stairs, wrenching my staff free from the ice. I could feel the rage emanating from him as we ran back to the others. I worried for him, but knew now was not the time to ask. We found the others taking the behemoth down just as we arrived. Cassandra looked over Cullen with a mixture of relief and concern while I explained that we needed to return to the main hall to regroup. Together with the senior templars the others had found, we rushed back to the main hall to find corrupted templars attacking. We joined the fight and soon enough, the hall was ours once more.

"What happened to you, Herald?" Cassandra asked as soon as we were clear.

"The Lord Seeker was replaced by an envy demon," I explained. "I caught it's fancy."

"Then the Lord Seeker—" Cassandra began.

"Envy?" Cullen questioned. "Maker's breath! It-did it...?"

"I resisted it, Commander," I assured. "I stabbed it in the gut and when I tried to confront it in its true form, it ran." I turned to point at the magical barrier at the front of the hall. "It's hiding beyond there."

"Barris!" Cullen barked as the templar approached. "What in the Void has been going on here?"

"It appears an envy demon has been acting in place of the Lord Seeker," Barris growled. "And my captain knew. It’s the red lyrium, isn’t it? I knew that retched stuff was risky."

"'Risky'?" Cullen spat. "Everyone in the Order should know what it does to you!"

"Or do you all not communicate with each other?" Varric asked. "The Knight-Commander of Kirkwall turned into a statue of red lyrium. After going completely crazy because she'd had it embedded in her sword. And you all have been ingesting the stuff? Are you insane?" Even Varric seemed angry as he looked Barris over.

Barris shifted on his feet. "They often give us new kinds of lyrium. Our commanders… some used the red stuff first, to prove it was harmless. The knights would have been next. That demon turned our leaders so we couldn’t question when this started!"

"Then your leaders all but corrupted the templars for a demon," Cullen growled.

Barris stood straighter. "Then we will fix it." Cullen nodded. Barris turned to his brethren. "Templar! What is Envy?"

A templar stepped forward. "A coward, brother!"

Another answered as well, "It studies, makes less mistakes. But most of all, it hides."

Barris turned back to us. "Envy’s rare. Rank and file aren’t trained for that. That’s why it took us top down. We have our veterans, thanks to you. We'll hold the hall. We need uncorrupted lyrium—it will most likely be in the officer's quarters. Bring it here, and I'll give you Envy." Barris saluted us, determination in his eyes.

"You’re not mages. You need lyrium for this?" I asked.

"Templars deny magic, but envy demons are tough," Barris explained. "Especially when they’ve had time to entrench themselves. The veterans can show us how to push. The lyrium will help, so when we break, we break the enemy." 

I blinked. "'Break'? You mean you could die?"

"A demon holds the honor of the Order," he scowled. "There isn’t a man or woman here who will let that stand."

"Glad to see Curly isn't the only templar left who isn’t crazy," Varric stated.

"I try, dwarf," Cullen grumbled.

Barris nodded and started to turn, his eyes catching on a dead red templar. "Show those things no mercy," he murmured before turning his back on us.

We fought our way through the courtyard to the officer's quarters. It was where Envy had dragged me to. "This is where Envy took me," I voiced after we'd cut down the last of the corrupted templars. I pointed at the open door. "I think...I think that's the Lord Seeker's quarters."

"What was inside?" Cassandra asked.

"Nothing good," I replied. "We can look more after we've dealt with this mess."

She nodded. "We will. We must find out what happened."

"I'd guess the lyrium would be over here," Cullen voiced as he pointed at a nearby door. "It is usually kept close to the Knight-Commander's quarters within the Circles." 

We made our way to the door, but found it locked. I growled in frustration and froze the door before shattering it apart glad to find it wasn't warded. 

"Shattering doors now, Herald?" Varric chuckled.

"Let's just say my trip to the Fade made me impatient," I bit out. "That Envy demon is going to regret ever crossing the Veil."

"That's the spirit," Varric chuckled.

We walked inside to find the bottom floor of the room covered in red lyrium. It had grown out of the chests, spreading like the Blight along the floor and the walls. I could hear that song again: dark and enticing. Nausea rolled in my gut the longer we stood near it.

"This must be the red lyrium the 'Lord Seeker' gave the templars," I mused aloud.

"Just like Haven and the Breach. Where are they getting it from?" Varric asked.

"They're either mad or fools to even be touching this," Vivienne curled her lip in disgust.

"Fools," Cullen growled. "Absolute fools."

I headed up the stairs and spotted chests of lyrium that glowed blue and held no song that I could hear. "Here—the untainted lyrium."

The others climbed the stairs. I glanced at Cullen. He had paled again and there was a sheen of sweat on his brow as he looked at the red lyrium. He met my eyes after a moment and gave me a slight nod before looking away.

He approached a nearby table as the others began collecting the chests of lyrium philters. He shuffled through the parchment there, picking up one that caught his eye. "They were getting shipments of regular lyrium, but only small amounts—not enough for all of them. A large shipment of red lyrium came in from an unknown source and it was left up to the Lord Seeker to ration it." He brought the parchment closer to his face as he read something at the bottom. "The templars...noticed a difference in the red lyrium, but the Knight-Captain encouraged that they use it." He folded the parchment and tucked it into his cuirass.

"We will question them—all of them—when this is over," Cassandra seethed. "The Order is so filled with corruption, there is no saving it."

"Your Lord Seeker fell prey to an envy demon," Cullen argued. "I doubt the Seeker's are free of corruption." They glared at each other a moment.

"You two can argue when we live through this," Varric interjected.

"Agreed," Vivienne sighed. "Have you seen the uncorrupted templars standing against the red? Keep your head, my dears, and this day may yet be salvaged."

"They need to be challenged," I stated, "But there has been enough resistance to prove to me that all hope is not lost for the Order. First, we need to stop Envy and finish off the red templars."

Cassandra and Cullen nodded. We grabbed the remaining untainted lyrium, Vivienne and I using magic to cause the chests to float behind us so none of us had to carry it for longer than necessary. Cullen and Cassandra cut down any red templars that crossed our paths after Vivienne and I froze them solid. Varric kept an eye out for archers until we were back in the main hall. Another battle had taken place in our absence, a few more of the uncorrupted templars had fallen.

"Ser Barris!" I yelled. "The lyrium!"

Barris turned in our direction, the other templars following suit. Barris's green eyes met mine. "There are more of the red ones beyond the barrier, they are sure to come out once we start attacking."

"We will fight," Cullen assured the templar. "You just focus on Envy."

Barris nodded. "We will break this beast," he promised. 

They opened the chests and each templar took a philter. They poured the contents into a sort of chalice; the thing glowing blue with mist curling over the lip. Ceremoniously, one after the other drank the lyrium while the others pounded their swords against their shields in encouragement. They all knew they could die, all knew they were fighting for the honor of their Order; yet, as they downed the lyrium any sense of fear seemed to vanish from them. Instead, their eyes burned with fury and determination—fearless in the face of death. Barris even kissed the chalice as he finished. They approached the dais below the barrier, drawing their swords which now brimmed with light as I felt them beginning to dispel the magic. They bowed before the barrier, leaning against their swords, as Barris began to speak the Chant. Vivienne and I each erected thick walls of ice around them, one last defense from the red templars. We put our backs to the templars and listened as Cullen gave orders.

"Same as before," Cullen ordered. "Ice walls to funnel them, Cassandra and I will stand at the front. Varric and Vivienne volley from the back. Herald, barriers and maintain the ice walls.” As soon as the barrier began to erode, red templars poured through it. “Now!"

With a grunt, I slammed my staff into the ground, the blade sinking between the stones. Ice walls erupted behind and on either side of us. With effort, I willed it to grow spikes, to attack the red templars as much as it defended us. Soon, they poured into the opening, Cullen and Cassandra yelling in challenge. The ring of swords clashing and blades meeting shields echoed within the ice. Bianca sung with each arrow Varric released. Vivienne taunted the templars as she erected ice spikes to kill them. I protected them all with barriers. As we fought, I felt the demon's barrier weakening as the templars poured their all into dispelling it. On and on it went, until finally no more came. We heard the templars cry out and the barrier shatter. I willed the ice walls to disappear, revealing that they had all collapsed from exhaustion.

"Barris?!" I called as I rushed toward them.

I found the templar, collapsed upon the floor with sword still in hand, panting heavily. "Get that demon. End it!" he bit out, his eyes blazing as they met mine.

"Let's go!" I called to the others. "I have a vow to keep."

We made our way up the steps behind the dais and out the back of the fortress. It was crumbling in places though a few stained-glass windows were still whole within a few intact walls. Stone benches sat every few feet until the walls opened to another courtyard and the remnants of a shrine. Red lyrium grew out of the ground and along the crumbling stone pillars. The demon cackled; the sound raking across my mind once more. 

"I touched so much of you, but you are selfish with your glory. Now I'm no one!" The demon cried before it crawled into view, making its way for me.

I clutched my head as the other's cried out for me, but Cole appeared beside me, easing the pain. "Dark and desperate; death to make yourself alive. I used to be like you, but not anymore. You shouldn't be either!"

The demon shrieked at Cole's words and launched into an attack. It disappeared and reappeared all over the courtyard, never staying in one place for long.

"Herald, Vivienne," Cullen yelled. "Freeze it in place! On the count of three!" Envy had disappeared once more, but Cullen seemed unfazed. "One!" We searched the grounds, staves at the ready. "Two!" Heart pounding, the desire to see this thing ended growing. "Three!"

Envy erupted from the ground and we froze it. Immobile for a moment, Varric loaded it with arrows while Cullen, Cassandra and Cole attacked it with their blades. Too soon, it broke free, releasing a cloud of smoke as it did. All of us coughing and blinking, we looked around to find the demon once more.

"Where is it?" I asked. 

"It's trying to hide," Cole warned.

"Silence!" the demon screamed. 

Around us, several copies of Cullen, Cassandra, Vivienne and Varric emerged. "They're not real!" Cole instructed. 

The others paused for a moment, confusion lighting their faces as the projections readied their weapons. Swinging my staff around me to build up mana until I had enough, I released it. Ice flew from my staff in shards, targeting the fakes. With one strike they fell. "You cannot fool me, demon!"

Envy howled in frustration. "'What could you gain from being me'?" Envy questioned in my voice. "Everything." From a cloud of smoke, the demon appeared, but it was the demon no longer. It stood before us, nearly a perfect replica of me as Ellana. It's eyes—my eyes—landed on me and an evil smile spread across its face. "I still know you. All of you!" It looked to the others. "Would you attack your Herald?" It raised a hand in my direction, pointing a finger. "That is the imposter. I just escaped the Fade. You need to kill it!"

"You are not the Herald!" Cullen seethed, raising his sword.

The demon turned its eyes to Cullen. "Ah, yes. The one she would've had, but I will have instead. You are pretty to look at. Tell me, Commander. Does this form please you?" Cullen became rooted in the spot he had been standing in, his face white and eyes wide. Envy smiled broadly. "I know you will please me." 

If I had not been watching him so intently, I would have missed the tiny step backwards Cullen took. I had never known him to run from anything, yet Envy—wearing my face—had him paralyzed.  My face. 'Does this form please you'? Did the desire demon ask a similar question? And Envy had all but promised that it would use Cullen in every way. That it would use my face and then Ellana's to do it. I felt my gut tighten as something dark awoke within me at the thought.

"Don't worry," Cole assured as he met my eyes, appearing behind the demon. "It can't be you if it's dead."

Envy turned to Cole, its face—my face—twisting into a sneer. "Meddler, I will kill you last!"

I would not let this thing touch anyone else; I would not let it destroy anymore than it already had. With a savage cry, I rushed Envy, catching the creature off guard. It turned back to me too late, it's smile faltering as I shoved the blade of my staff into its chest, freezing all but it's head.

"You cannot do this!" It screeched, it's voice grating my bones. "I am Envy!"

"Envy this," I snarled as I drew one of my blades and plunged it into Envy's throat. It flailed in vain against its icy prison, black blood streaming from the wound. It continued to twitch and screech as it's face contorted, shifting from my face to it's own mutilated one. The ice was cracking with each movement it made, it would free itself soon.

"Quick!" Cole shouted. "While Envy has to be itself!"

Roaring at the creature, I wrenched the blade through, causing its head to grotesquely loll to one side. After a few death throes, the creature finally stilled. "Maker take you, you filth," I growled.

To the praise and relief of the others, I freed my blade and staff. Vivienne set the demon ablaze. Glancing up at the Breach that was visible in the distance, I swiped a sleeve across my face. Clearing off some of the hot blood I felt there, I turned back to the others.All but Cullen had begun to walk back to where the remaining templars were approaching. He stood rooted in the same spot, his chest heaving, blade held so tight I could see his gloves straining against his knuckles. His eyes were fixed on the demon's burning corpse as he panted, his body taut in readiness to protect himself. Approaching him slowly, his eyes met mine. They were wide like a cornered animal's. He didn't move, didn't relax as I came closer. Gently, I placed a hand on his sword arm and he allowed me to lower it.

"It's over, Cullen," I murmured. "Envy is dead. It cannot hurt anyone else. We're safe." He continued to look at me, but it was as if he wasn't there, instead trapped in his mind. "Come back to me, Cullen," I whispered.

Blinking, his spell broke. He let out a shaky breath. "I-Forgive me, M—"

"There is nothing to forgive," I gave him a small smile. "It...scared me, too." His face fell in shame. "Please, Cullen," I urged, "I need you. We have to deal with the templars and I can't do it without you."

After a heartbeat, he took a deep breath, sheathed his sword, and buckled his shield to his back. He closed his eyes for a moment and straightened; his gaze hard when his eyes opened. He would not look at me. "Right. Let's go."

"I-I'm glad," he murmured. His eyes flicked to the weapons. "Would you humor me? Try using the staff."

I grasped the weapon, its weight lighter than I would have guessed. It no heavier than the wooden pole I had used for practice. The thrumming intensified as I held it in my hands; more threads weaving. I took a deep breath in and pushed those threads to weave around the conduit that the staff became in my hands. Cold bit into my skin as the staff responded, magic surrounding my hands like a sentient mist. I focused my sight on a tree and swung the staff as I had been taught, feeling the mana around me flow with the movements. Ice shot out of the sphere sat atop the staff, freezing the tree I had been aiming for entirely.

"It worked!" I let out a surprised laugh.

"Thank the Maker," Cullen praised. "I was afraid—you'll have to thank Solas. He designed it."

"I will," I beamed at him. "But I'm thanking you first. After all, it wasn't Solas that requisitioned a staff for me, was it?"

He blushed a little. "No."

I slid the staff into the baldric strapped to my back and tied the short-swords to my belt. We tied our horses next to the others' before beginning our ascent up to the fortress. The closer we drew, the more unease began pooling in my gut. I could not say why, but there was a whisper of fear as to what awaited us. The templars claimed to be servants of the Maker and Andraste, but these templars had abandoned their duty; Lucius had allowed them to physically assault a member of the clergy in front all of Val Royeaux before practically spitting on my sister for seeking aid with the Breach. Cullen seemed to trust this man, Barris, but beyond him? Were there any templars within that would be willing to help us? Would the Lord Seeker listen and come to his senses: realizing that the Breach was the only true threat at present? I couldn't fight the feeling that we were going to be entering a pit of vipers.

Maker, my enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against me. But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against me.

Cullen's fingers brushed against mine and I looked up to find his eyes on me. He offered a soft smile and a nod of assurance before he pulled his hand away and looked forward. I let out a breath and followed his gaze. As I did, something moved in my peripheral. I found nothing when I turned to find the source. Cresting the stairs brought us to the outer wall, the gate raised. The entrance reminded me of a great mouth open in wait of unsuspecting prey. Cassandra stood near the gate, hand on the pommel of her sword as her face was set in grimace. She nodded at our approach and came to stand on my other side. As we passed through, we were greeted by the sight of several Orlesian nobles. Among them, Vivienne stood; she looked not only regal, but in her element as she entertained them. Varric was holding his own as he schmoozed a few fans of his books. Their eyes glancing towards us as we passed through the gate, they made their way across the bridge to stand with us for a few moments of private conversation.

"The templars know we are here," Vivienne informed us, "We are waiting for the Lord Seeker to send a reply."

"Did you speak with a Ser Barris?" Cullen quietly inquired as his eyes swept over the nobles that crowded the stone bridge.

"He was the templar that greeted us."

"The Herald of Andraste!" A voice called as a couple of the masked nobles approached us. "Lord Esmeral Abernache. Honored to participate. It is not unlike the second dispersal of the reclaimed Dales." He gave a slight nod before turning his attention to Vivienne. "Ah, Lady Vivienne! We met at last summer’s ball? The duke introduced us."

Vivienne turned, inclining her head only slightly. "Indeed. I could not possibly forget the occasion," she replied before she strode ahead and directed the other nobles to follow her towards the main gate of the fortress. 

Abernache turned back to me. "The Lord Seeker is willing to hear our petition about closing the Breach. A credit to our alliance with the Inquisition. Care to mark the moment? Ten Orlesian houses walk with you."

"The Inquisition values this alliance, Lord Abernache," I politely replied. "The templars must see reason. We can’t let the Breach endanger us any longer."

The mask of Abernache studied me a moment, before turning towards where the Breach hung in the sky. "Oh, yes. Ghastly-looking thing. The Lord Seeker can’t think we’re ignoring it." He waved a hand to have me follow. Cullen, Cassandra and Varric went ahead to cross the bridge. Something shifted in my peripheral again, but as soon as I looked, it was gone. Once we were alone, Abernache spoke. "Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you’d divulge what finally got their attention? Rumor will if you won’t."

Confused, I knit my brows. "What do you mean?

"The Lord Seeker won’t meet us until he greets the Inquisition 'in person'. Quite a surprise after the spat in Val Royeaux," Abernache replied. 

That was odd when compared with the reaction Ellana and Cassandra had described. He'd been vile towards them and the Inquisition, hardly deigning to speak with either of them beyond uttering words of slander. Now he would accept nothing less than meeting us in person? I said nothing of this to Abernache, but made note to mention it to the others if the opportunity came. "The Inquisition only asks the Lord Seeker help us close the Breach."

"Then it’s all been arranged by your ambassador. Let the diplomats work their magic if you trust them. Between you and I, the Chantry never took advantage of their templars. Wiser heads should steer them," the man conspired. I was beginning to like this Abernache less by the moment, but he and the others were the only reason we were here. 

We had walked together across the bridge and followed a path to the start of another stone bridge that led to the fortress proper as we spoke. Nobles crowded the outer gate, surrounding a few templars stood outside of it. Beyond laid an inner courtyard comprised mainly of stables.

"Here we are! Therinfal Redoubt." Abernache looked towards the courtyard. "It appears they’ve sent someone to greet you. Present well. Everyone is a little tense for my liking." Abernache gave a slight bow before leaving me to join his fellow nobles.

I caught up with Cullen, Cassandra, Vivienne and Varric who were all speaking in low tones amongst each other. They all looked to me as I approached. "It seems the Lord Seeker is waiting to meet us."

"It screams 'I hate fun and kick puppies', doesn’t it?" Varric asked as he eyed the fortress. I smirked a little at Varric's comment and noticed that Cullen's lips twitched as he held in a chuckle.

"The Lord Seeker abandoned the White Spire to come here?" Cassandra questioned, shaking her head. "These lords are useful, but none of this should be necessary. Surely, the Lord Seeker sees the true threat. What is he playing at?"

"I’d ask this lot out for drinks later, but I’m afraid they’d annex the tavern," Varric smirked.

"Just the tavern?" Cullen replied, a self-satisfied smile pulling his scar. 

"I suppose that is underestimating them, isn't it, Curly?" Varric chuckled.

I looked over the fortress, that unease settling heavily in my gut. You have walked beside me down the paths where a thousand arrows sought my flesh. You have stood with me when all others have forsaken me. "According to Abernache, the Lord Seeker changed his mind about us rather quickly. Is he known for that?" I asked aloud.

"The Lord Seeker isn’t reputed to be fickle," Vivienne stated. "Something must have changed."

"Attack of conscience? I hear they happen once or twice an age," Varric shrugged.

"Twice? That's news to me," Cullen mumbled.

 Varric eyed Cullen, his lips curling upwards as he studied the Commander. I guessed at what he saw—Cullen standing straighter, jesting easier; a quiet strength oozing from him. Cullen had always been strong and proud, but there was a slight difference in the way he was carrying and conducting himself. My heart warmed at the change. I had to hold back a smile as I glanced over him: the rain had fully brought out the curl of his hair. He looked younger when his hair was its natural texture.

"Come, we should meet whom the Lord Seeker sent," Cassandra instructed, her dark brows furrowed.

  We made our way across the stone bridge, listening to the nobles pester the templars that stood outside the gatehouse. The nobles were threatening the wrath of the Empress upon the templars for their disobedience and inaction towards the Breach. Grumblings of the templars' shameful behavior in Val Royeaux was also among them. I could sense Cullen bristling at their language as many insinuated that the templars were owned and needed to be leashed. He bit his tongue, but his face turned sourer the more we heard the nobles speak. I could understand his frustration, even to a degree the Order's frustration. While the templars had served the Chantry for ages, their responsibilities—and the sacrifices they made—were taken for granted. How they had handled themselves, however, was disgraceful for men and women who took vows to serve and protect the people; who claimed obedience to the Maker and his Bride. As we passed into the gatehouse, I looked up to the scaffolding that climbed up near the gate. I swore that I saw something—or someone—lounging up there, but I blinked and whatever it was had disappeared. More templars, all knights and initiates from what I could tell, stood within; they wore various expressions of worry, skepticism or irritation. Some questioned as to why they were being left to deal with the nobles, wondering where their superior officers were. Their eyes followed us as we strode through, unsure of what to make of us. I spotted Abernache near the gate, approaching another noble that stood close to a templar knight. The templar looked irritated as he spoke with an attaché. I looked the templar over as we approached: he was young, but I'd guess not much younger than Cullen and myself. He had his helmet sat in the crook of his elbow, revealing the tight coils of his dark hair that were shaved close to his head. Striking green eyes studied the nobles in front of him; his full lips pulled in a tight line as the nostrils of his broad nose were slightly flared in agitation. His deep brown skin and the metal of his armor were wet with rain, indicating that he'd been a victim to the weather as well. Despite the subtle signs of his agitation, his broad shoulders were straight as he held himself like a man who was comfortable in his own skin. 

"Childebert!" I heard Abernache shout. "By the Maker, I haven’t seen you in months!"

The other noble turned at his name. "Not enough hunting in your forests, Esmeral! Give the boars time to recover!"

"In that case, let’s celebrate collaring these templars by raiding my cellar. Some nice Tevinter whites this season," Abernache chuckled.

"They’ll be well earned," Childebert inclined his head. "I never thought the Lord Seeker would throw his weight in the Game."

"You think he dares?" Abernache growled, placing his hands on his hips.

"Of course! This isn’t some religious pique — the man meant to draw us out," Childebert observed. "Why drag his templars to this rock if not to wring out some concessions?"

"Mmm," Abernache hummed. "You know these Chantry types. Tricky to nail down sometimes."

I felt Cassandra and Cullen stiffen at Abernache's words. Thankfully, both stayed quiet, but I could sense their stares boring into the nobleman. At our approach the templar near the gate flicked his gaze our way. His green eyes swept over us, catching first on Cullen and then me. 

"I present Knight-Templar Ser Delrin Barris, second son of Bann Jevrin Barris of Ferelden," the attache stated to Abernache, who stood before Barris. Delrin made his way to us, not stopping as the attache continued. "Ser Barris, may I be so honored to present Lord Esmeral Abernache…?"

Delrin closed the distance between himself and our party. His eyes landing on Cullen. "Commander Rutherford?"

"I am," Cullen nodded, his hands going to his sword pommel.

"You said the Inquisition works to close this 'Breach' in the Veil."

"We do," Cullen assured. 

Barris's eyes flicked to me and then looked over the nobles before meeting Cullen's eyes again. "I didn't think you'd bring such...lofty company."

Abernache approached, crossing his arms over his chest. "Barris? Moderate holdings, your family. And the second son?" Abernache scoffed.

Barris ignored the nobleman. "This… promise of status has garnered interest from the Lord Seeker. Beyond sense. The sky burns with magic, but he ignores all calls to action until your friends arrive."

"Cassandra, should a Seeker lead the templars this way?" I asked.

Cassandra looked concerned, but answered, "In an emergency, if there’s no other recourse, but his goal should be to restore them to order."

Barris clasped his hands behind his back. "He has taken command. Permanently."

Cassandra shifted on her feet, her brow furrowing. "If he feels there is a holy mandate…"

Barris nodded. "That is what the Lord Seeker claims, and our commanders parrot him." The man let out a heavy sigh full of bitterness as his shoulders dropped. "The Lord Seeker’s actions make no sense. He promised to restore the Order’s honor, then marched us here to wait? Templars should know their duty, even when held from it."

"A templar who remembers his responsibilities? I am reassured," Vivienne sneered and I couldn't help but feel that she was directing her statement to Cullen as much as she was to Barris.

Barris flicked his eyes to her, a frown pulling his mouth, but he said nothing. His gaze returned to me, studying my face. It was like Cassandra had said of Cullen after Kirkwall: Barris was desperate for a way out of this situation. I tested the waters. "You're with us?" I asked.

"Win over the Lord Seeker, and every able-bodied knight will help the Inquisition seal the Breach."

"That’s why the Inquisition came, Ser Barris," I assured.

His worried expression didn't soften. "I’d tell you your chances, but the officers are a mystery lately." The officers. That's twice now they've been mentioned as behaving strangely. Before I could ask him about it, he spoke again. "We’ve been asked to accept much, after that shameful display in Val Royeaux." It was clear he at least was angry about what had happened in Val Royeaux. "Our truth changes on the hour." Truth? On the hour? Something is wrong.

Abernache came to stand next to Barris and I. "Don’t keep your betters waiting, Barris. There’s important work for those born to it." I desperately wished that we had not needed these pompous nobles.Barris shot the man a glare but held his tongue before turning to lead us through the open gate.

I leaned towards Cullen to whisper, "What do you think?"

He contemplated his answer as his amber eyes scanning our surroundings. "The officers should be the ones dealing with all of this, and yet it's only the initiates and lower ranking knights? Something's not right, but given the Lord Seeker's current mood and recent actions..."

I nodded. We came to an open courtyard where a mass of templars stood waiting. The nobles and templars that had stood outside the gate made their way in behind us before spreading out. The courtyard was scattered with supplies and a few tents, surrounding a sealed well that sat in the middle. There were stairs leading to the upper levels of the fortress. Therinfal was not in total disrepair, but it had clearly seen better days. Barris led me over to a set of wooden cranks before gesturing to the wall before us. There were three standards on pulley systems. One bore the Chantry's sun symbol, the next the Order's coat of arms, and the last the crest of Ferelden.

"The Lord Seeker has a… request before you meet him," Barris informed, gesturing to the standards. "These are the Standards. An honored rite centered on the people, the Maker, and the Order." Barris gestured to each flag in turn. "The people: mages and common folk alike. It’s for their safety the Order was formed. The Maker: the Chantry and Andraste. Bride of the Maker. Lady of Light. And finally, the Order: The templars. Proud Agents. Sword of the faith." Barris turned back to me. "The Lord Seeker asks that you perform the rite so that he may see the order in which you honor them."

"Why?" Cullen demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is the rite of a templar initiate, not for any outside the Order to perform or witness. It is normally followed by a long study of how the Order was used in the past to help the initiate make their own choices."

"I agree, Commander, but this is what the Lord Seeker requested before he meets with the Inquisition," Barris pursed his lips.

I looked the standards over. The people, the Maker, and the Order. What is the Lord Seeker playing at? This was not a rite for me to perform, nor would my answers be a representation of the Inquisition as a whole. "What if I fail?"

"There is no 'correct' answer," Barris replied patiently, clasping his hands behind his back once more. "The ritual simply shows watchers who you are and what you value." I wonder what Cullen's answer had been.

Cullen leaned towards me to whisper in my ear. "Aside from this bordering on sacrilegious, it seems that the Lord Seeker is either stalling or playing some kind of game with you."

"I agree," I murmured before turning back to Barris. "Fancy title aside, I don't actually command the Inquisition. What I answer may not represent the organization as a whole."

"That doesn't seem to matter," Barris stated as he looked over the standards. He turned to Cullen and I, lowering his voice. "The Lord Seeker changed everything to meet you. Not the Inquisition—you. Ellana Lavellan."

Cullen and I exchanged a glance. Was Ellana's name known to the Lord Seeker? Was this a veiled threat just as Alexius's use of her name had been. "Why?" I asked. 

Barris's composure broke as a worried look crossed his face. "I don't know. He's been fixated on you since your hoard of nobles arrived."

Abernache approached. "The Lord Seeker makes us shuffle flags around? Refuse! Let’s meet the man already."

"That is my suggestion as well, Herald," Cullen agreed.

"The Lord Seeker brushed me aside in Val Royeaux. Now he requests me by name. What changed?" I asked Barris. None of this was making any sense beyond what Cullen had said—this was either a stalling tactic or a game. I wanted more information before I refused or accepted the request.

"Nothing, except the company you keep. Perform the Standards, and you can ask the Lord Seeker why his opinion of the 'Herald' improved," Barris looked around at the other templars who had begun to grumble.

They spoke to their confusion over the Lord Seeker's actions and request that I perform this ritual. Others looked me over with disapproving faces, claiming Andraste would not have chosen an elf as her Herald. Would not have chosen a mage. Worse than both: a Dalish apostate. Others believed it was all of those factors as well as my being alive that proved it was the Maker's will. I looked to Barris. "Do the other templars have faith in what the Inquisition stands for?" 

Barris turned back to me. "You aren’t the Herald they taught us to expect, but your race could be part of Andraste’s message. More troubling is your company," he shot a glare at Abernache. "We’ve had no end of pain from snakes like him."

"Have a care knight!" Abernache protested.

Barris ignored the man, his eyes meeting mine. "They should have no appeal to the Lord Seeker. Our doors shouldn’t open to power flaunted. I don’t recognize what the Order is becoming."

"That makes two of us," Cullen murmured. Barris looked to Cullen and gave a slight nod.

I looked at the banners, around at the gathered templars and to Barris. If the Lord Seeker was stalling on purpose, I feared the reason why. If this was some kind of test or game, I did not want to play it. "I mean no offense, but the Lord Seeker can’t delay any longer, Barris. Take us to him, if you would." 

Barris looked stressed at my words. "The Lord Seeker’s request about the ritual was—" 

"You helmed louts are wasting the Inquisition's time and my time," Abernache complained, stepping towards Barris in an act of intimidation. 

Barris let out a deep sigh, clearly at the end of his wits. "Right. The Lord Seeker can deal with this. Follow me."

Barris led us within the fortress to the lower barracks where even more templars were waiting. He directed one of the templars to let the Lord Seeker know that the Inquisition would wait no longer. Time ticked by the tension growing in the room as it did. I looked to Cullen and Cassandra, who were keeping their hands on their swords. I looked to Vivienne and Varric, both reading the room even as they kept a nonchalant air about themselves.

"This is an outrage!" Abernache cried. "How much longer is he going to keep us waiting? What does he hope to gain by this continued offense?"

"My dear Lord Abernache," Vivienne interjected. "Surely you of all people understand the game he is playing?"

"He wants your feathers ruffled," Varric chuckled. "The more rattled you are, the easier you are to manipulate."

"Do compose yourself, Lord Abernache," Cassandra instructed.

"'Compose myself'?" Abernache seethed. "I am composed, Seeker. This whole affair has been a disgrace and waste of my time. Your Inquisition better put these templars in their place. It's obvious there's discord amongst the ranks. Take the templars who will be loyal and let us leave."

"We obey the Lord Seeker," Barris argued. "He has led us true and has the Order's interest in mind. You have only yours. As for the Inquisition, we are unsure of the organization. If the Lord Seeker believes them a worthy cause to aid, we will come willingly."

"Forget the Lord Seeker," Abernache waved his hand. "You are to be loyal to the Chantry, no? The Inquisition was founded by the Divine. Surely the Inquisition to whom she granted authority before her death—Maker rest her soul—are more worthy of your loyalty than the Lord Seeker who abandoned his duties, assumed command of the Order, and marched you to this ramshackle fortress. To do what exactly, Ser Barris? To sit and wait for the Breach to swallow the world? All so you could moan about not getting your way like spoiled children?"

"It's not about getting our way," Barris scowled. "We are following what our leaders command because they lead us in faith. The Chantry broke that faith and betrayed our trust, dishonoring the Order that has served them for ages. The Lord Seeker wishes to see the Order's honor restored; for us to no longer be the Chantry's leashed dogs, but true knights of Our Lady. To be servants to the Maker. He will meet with you and the Inquisition. He will decide if you will see to the Order's interests and if so, we will answer the call for aid."

"Did you not say that a templar should know their duty even when kept from it?" I asked. "Is obeying the Lord Seeker your duty? Or is it serving Andraste, the Maker, and the people as your Standards indicated?"

Barris hesitated a moment. "Those are our core tenets, but the Lord Seeker rallied us and promises better for the Order. What does the Inquisition offer?"

"The Inquisition would see your Order perform its duty," I voiced. "If serving and protecting is what you ultimately believe to be right, then abandoned the Lord Seeker and help us."

"We can't abandon our orders," Barris stated. "If we left, who would lead us? You?" Barris asked. "Commander Rutherford? This Lord and his nobles? Forgive me, Herald, but we do not know you and you cannot tell us with any certainty that you were sent by the Maker. Your Commander may have been a templar, but he left the Order. We do not know your organization, and we'd no sooner follow Orlesian nobles than the Empress herself. The Maker and his Bride are our guides, and we'd do better to follow one of our own who understands this. Pomp and circumstance are unnecessary, if your intentions are worthy, the Lord Seeker will see that and conduct himself as such."

"It's necessary, you know!" Abernache argued. "Set aside your fanaticism! Your options are limited. You follow your Lord Seeker or the Inquisition—you don't run a battlefield by committee."

"Without faith, you've no knights!" Barris hissed. "You've—" A door opened to another templar wearing the armor of a knight-captain. He was flanked by two other templars. "Knight-Captain?"

What I noticed first was their eyes, a reddish gleam in them that I thought was a trick of the torches. I blinked, but the red was still there, shining through the slits of their helms. After the gleam, I heard it. A song comprised of quiet whispers promising power emanating from the templars that had entered the room. The knight-captain approached us, his hands clasped behind his back, his gait slow and predatory. As he drew closer, I saw the dark, thick veins mostly hidden by his helm and gorget. "You were expecting the Lord Seeker. He sent me to die for you."

Barris and I exchanged a glance as I felt Cullen step nearer to me. "Something is terribly wrong," he breathed so low, only I could hear, his voice sounding alarmed. "Be ready. Barriers first on everyone you can, then attack. Do not draw your blades until you must. I will defend you."

Abernache backed away from the knight-captain and came around the table to meet my eyes. "He is not well."

"Knight-Captain Denam," Barris addressed the templar. "I've brought the Inquisition's representatives. Will the Lord Seeker not see them?"

Denam's eyes landed on me, icy dread sliding down my spine in response. "So, this is the herald of change?" Denam questioned, his voice sounding oddly detached. "You are why everything must be moved ahead."

I looked to Barris, his face becoming increasingly worried. "Ser Barris, I'm right in assuming the knight-captain has seen better days?" My voice held more confidence than I felt.

"I tried to make us ready," Denam straightened. "I thought I knew the way." What have we walked into? Maker, Andraste...save us. The sounds of swords and shields clashing as monstrous roars and strangled cries began reverberating off the stone walls. I felt Cullen tense beside me, his sword hand tightening on his hilt. The templars within the room began to murmur worriedly, glancing between each other and at the knight-captain. "The Lord Seeker had a plan, but the Herald ruined it by arriving with purpose. It sowed too much dissent." 

Barris charged Denam, confusion and worry lighting his eyes. "Knight-Captain, I must know what’s going on!"

Denam turned to Barris. "You were all supposed to be changed! Now we must purge the questioning knights!"

At the knight-captain's words, chaos broke loose. More templars flooded the room, each wearing a shard of something red around their necks. The few whose faces were exposed, looked like corpses. Pronounced veins webbed across their grey skin, glowing red and pulsing. Their eyes held more than a glint of red, their pupils luminous crimson. Corrupted. Barris backed away from the knight-captain, taking in the approaching templars. The ring of swords being drawn sounded as the strings of bows were stretched taught.

"The Elder One is coming. No one will leave Therinfal who is not stained red!" Denam shouted as arrows flew and swords flashed.

"Now, Herald!" Cullen drew his sword, shoving me behind him as he strapped on his shield. "Maker, save us!" Cullen prayed as templars began falling around us, cries and shouts of pain cut short as blades and arrows found their marks. The crimson of blood spewed from wounds about the room.

"Maker's breath!" Barris swore as he drew his own weapons and defended himself against the knight-captain.

I summoned barriers at Cullen's order. Cassandra and the others drew their weapons and threw themselves into the fray. Swords clashed, arrows and magic flew. I palmed my staff, the metal thrumming as I drew on the threads of my mana. I kept my barriers fed as the corrupted templars attacked the remaining templars, Barris, and our party. The corrupted templars were strong—unnaturally so. Their blades crashed against my magic, each swing gouging out large portions of the barriers. Cullen stayed near me as he promised, grunting with the effort of blocking incoming arrows and blades. Cassandra came to his side after dispatching an archer. 

"What in the Maker's name is going on, Cullen?" Cassandra barked as she blocked a blow, the sound ringing in my ears.

"I don't know," Cullen answered as he thrust his blade into the gut of an attacking templar, knocking the templars swing with his shield to create his opening. "But I think...Sweet Maker, is that red lyrium?"

"Aaah! What’s happening?" Lord Abernache cried as he ran past us.

"Abernache, stay down!" Barris barked as he parried a strike from Denam. "Knight-Captain! What have you done?" Barris was enraged as he faced down his superior officer.

"I tried to make us stronger! But time has run out," Denam answered, swinging blow after blow which Barris met with his shield. "We must test the Herald! The Lord Seeker will see you now!" Denam's red eyes turned to me, a cold smile spreading across his face. "It’s your fault, elf. He wants you, not us! Now we’re all gifts for the Elder One!" 

My fault? Test me? This Elder One again? What is going on?  Fear was coiling in my gut as I heard that whispering song change from sweet enticement to a cacophony of defiant yells, horrified screams, and broken sobs. Cullen and Cassandra fought, a wall between me and the crazed templars that crashed against them.   Varric was leaping around the room, Bianca emitting her mechanical thwack at an alarming rate as he fired shot after shot. Vivienne laughed at the templars that tried to take her down, freezing them where they stood before causing them to burst apart. Frozen limbs littering the ground where they'd once stood. 

While the fighting went on, I could hear Barris battering Denam with questions. "What's the Lord Seeker done to us? How many of us have changed? How far does this betrayal go?" They all went unanswered by the knight-captain. Barris let out a defiant yell as his blade pierced his superior's gut. Denam crumpled to the floor, holding his wound.

As the knight-captain fell, so too did his corrupted brethren. Bodies, limbs and blood covered the floor as only a few of us remained alive. "Who's not dead?" Varric questioned the room.

All of our party answered; a few uncorrupted templars grunted in response, holding various wounds. Barris went behind a stack of grain sacks. "Abernache. Useless, but alive!" Barris shouted before he returned to Denam.

"Is the knight-captain alive?" I asked as I approached the templar.

Barris turned to me, his green eyes full of anger. "Barely. If you use a healing elixir, he might survive. If he even deserves it."

I looked down at Denam. This man would have information on what happened here and why; it would be a waste to just let him die. "We’ll heal him. Let’s deal with the knight-captain after we find his master." I turned to Cullen. "Where can we confine him?"

Cullen met my eyes, but there was something in them I had not seen for weeks. That haunted look was back. "I'd say we tie him up in here," Cullen nodded to a wooden pillar. "We'll need to move further in to find answers." He looked towards the door Denam had entered through; shouts and fighting could still be heard. He walked forward and began examining the corrupted templars that had fallen, his face turning livid and grim. He used his sword to bring one of the chains they wore around their necks closer to his eyes, examining the red crystal.

"He hardly deserves our charity," Vivienne scoffed as Barris moved the knight-captain.

"Deserved or no, he has information," I answered as I knelt to heal Denam. That song louder. "I would see him questioned." Vivienne waved a hand of dismissal.

Barris tried the door we'd entered through after talking with the surviving templars. "Stuck. It's barricaded from the other side." He pressed an ear to the door, horror crossing his features. "I...I think they're killing the nobles out there." I looked to him, his horror mirrored on my own face. I rushed to the door and threw my magic at it only to find it rendered powerless. "The others must have warded the door."

"Blessed Andraste, guide the fallen to the Maker's side," Cassandra stated, her voice low. Those poor people...we-we brought them here and now...

"This way is locked as well," Cullen informed as he tried the door Denam had entered through after finishing his study of the corrupted templars.

Barris made his way over to Denam's unconscious body and searched him. "The knight-captain's keys." Barris threw them to Cullen, who caught them and turned to the door. "I would question the Lord Seeker about this 'Elder One'."

"You don't know what the knight-captain was talking about?" I asked Barris.

"No, I've not heard anything about it before he spoke of it," Barris shook his head. Both the mages and templars are wrapped up in this Elder One business. What does that mean?

"More of them!" Cullen shouted as he got the door open. "Sweet blood of Andraste!"

We hurried to him as he blocked blow after blow, grunting with the effort. I was not prepared for what lay beyond the door. The corrupted templars we first encountered were grotesque to look at, but these templars were nothing less than monsters.Red crystals were growing out of what little skin they had left, their eyes blood red and their armor twisting away where the red crystals jutted through. The sounds they made were hardly human, though they did still speak. Their voices sounding like many speaking at once. 

Cassandra gasped as she beheld one charging at her. "They’re monstrous!"

"You think?" Varric called as his arrows bloomed out of the neck of one. One after the other, but the templar kept coming at him.

"We all noticed!" Vivienne barked exasperatedly, as her staff twisted around her. Ice freezing all the templars in the hall, allowing Cullen, Barris and Cassandra's blades to fracture them apart.

"It’s horrible!" Cassandra exclaimed, her eyes unable to believe what they were seeing.

"We need to find as many uncorrupted templars as possible and get out of here!" Cullen shouted. I could see sweat dripping down his face. "Barris, where should we go?"

"The main hall," Barris instructed. "That's where the others were. We need to get to them. The Lord Seeker should be among them." Barris led us through the barracks. Bodies littered the way; torn apart and obviously brutalized. These templars, or whatever they were, had cut their way through their brethren without mercy. 

"What templars would do this?" Cullen asked aloud. "This is cold-blooded murder. Barris, what in the Maker's name has been happening here?"

"I-I don't know," Barris answered. "We've been kept separate from the officers, the only senior templar we've seen has been Denam. He'd relay the orders of the Lord Seeker and the Knight-Vigilant. Perhaps we should find the Knight-Vigilant? He's well respected. I doubt he'd be caught up in this mess."

"We should try," Cassandra agreed.

"You mentioned none of this in your letter," Cullen growled. 

"Do you not remember how it was?" Barris replied, his own voice sharp, as he looked at yet another dead comrade. "We follow orders and we do not question."

"I remember only too well," Cullen murmured. I looked to him. His face was dark, his jaw clenched hard. Cullen.

"Help...me," a voice called. We all stopped abruptly and hurried towards the voice. It was a female templar who'd been stabbed in the gut, but she still lived. I bent down to her, ascertaining the wound. Fixable, but she'd need rest. I summoned healing magic and closed the wound. "Thank you."

"Stay hidden and rest," I instructed. "We'll be back for you."

As we made it to the top of the stairs, we were met with another pack of the corrupted templars. I couldn't bear to look at them. They had once been men and women but were now nothing more than monsters. Their corruption visible and plain. They fought without fear, without remorse, and without mercy. Strength and speed beyond normal capabilities. I produced barrier after barrier on all of our party and prayed to Andraste, my strength would not run out quickly.

Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. 

These were not the Maker's champions. 

"Prepare them! Guide them to me!" a voice shouted and I let out a gasp as I stopped. It wailed in my mind, sounding like a choir twisting into one voice.

"Herald?" Cullen asked, a grip on my elbow.

"Was-was that the Lord Seeker?" I panted, a hand at my head as it pounded in the aftermath.

"I heard nothing," Cullen replied. I found his amber eyes; they were full of concern as he looked me over. The others responded in kind, eyes turning to me. "What did you hear?" Cullen asked.

"Th-there was a voice," I panted. "It-it...hurt." I shook my head to clear away the pain. "A man's voice, I think, but it sounded...strange. Like several speaking at once."

"Are you all right, my dear?" Vivienne asked.

"I am...fine now." I answered.

"What did the voice say?" Cassandra asked.

"'Prepare them. Guide them to me'," I met her dark eyes. Her brow furrowed. "The knight-captain said something about my needing to be tested. Ser Barris, do you know what he was talking about?"

Barris scowled and shook his head. "I do not."

"And none of you heard it?" I asked. They all shook their heads in response, worry on their faces.

Varric slapped Cullen on the back as Cullen had gone a little pale. "Oh, come on, Curly, this should be run of the mill for you! How much weird crap did you deal with on a daily basis as knight-captain?"

"It was my hope to escape all the 'weird crap' when I left, dwarf," Cullen shot Varric a glare.

I chuckled in spite of myself knowing it meant Varric had achieved his desired effect. "Varric, you will have to regale me of our Commander's adventures in Kirkwall once we're out of this mess."

"It would be my pleasure, Herald," Varric smiled. 

"Maker's breath," Cullen grumbled, but that haunted look had abated just a little when his eyes met mine. "Herald, alert us if you hear this voice again." I gave him a nod.

"We should get moving," Barris urged to our agreement.

Barris led us out to the upper courtyard. More corrupted templars stalked the grounds, fighting the few templars that stood against them. More bodies lay dead as we rushed to help those who were fighting. Gutted, beheaded, torn limb from limb, necks twisted at wrong angles.

"Herald, Vivienne, ice walls to create a chokepoint and block the archers!" Cullen directed. "Barris, Cassandra, and templars, to the front. Mages and Varric, volley from the back. Herald, barriers after your ice wall and stay with me!"

We did as Cullen directed, forcing the corrupted templars to funnel through. The arrows of the archers pounded against the ice wall, but none came through. 

Show me what you are! That voice echoed in my mind again and I shouted out. 

"Herald? Are you all right?" Cullen yelled, but his voice sounded far away.

"It's the voice," I gasped, but I didn't know if he could hear me.

"Herald! The ice wall!" Cullen shouted in alarm.

I blinked and saw that my side of the wall had shattered. I panted through the pain of the voice and summoned another wall, but not before one of the surviving templars was shot down with arrows from a corrupted archer that had the high ground. Vivienne froze the archer before one of Varric's arrows found its mark, causing the ice to turn red as blood flowed from the archer's pierced throat. Another corrupted templar took his place.

"Flames!" I swore as the uncorrupted templar fell. I jerked my hands up, forcing the ice wall taller. 

I would know you! I yelped aloud, the words lacerating at my mind, buckling to a knee, but I pushed through the pain to keep the wall up.

"Herald!" Varric shouted.

"Don't worry about me!" I cried, shoving the ache away.

"Done!" Cassandra shouted when the corrupted templars fell. "There's more in the refectory! I hear someone fighting!"

I let the ice to melt away as we passed through the door. More infighting met us. Vivienne peppered the corrupted templars with ice, slowing their movements. "Why aren't they using their abilities?" I shouted.

"Maybe they can't?" Cullen shouted back. "The crystals growing out of them— it is red lyrium!"

"What?" I gasped.

"What did I tell you, Curly?" Varric chuckled. "Just like Kirkwall!"

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. Vivienne and I froze the corrupted templars, allowing the others to bash them with their shields. Their frozen bodies shattered apart at the impact. 

You will be so much more! I doubled over, holding my head in my hands, the pain growing more intense. 

"Herald?" Cassandra asked.

I was shaking, sweating. The world around me growing blurry. I pushed myself to stand, grabbing a nearby beam as the ground rose up to meet me. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "We need to keep moving," I ground out.

"I don't know what's happening," the templar stated in answer to Barris. "All of the officers have been turned into those...things."

"Make your way to the lower barracks; gather any other survivors you run into down there. Keep the knight-captain bound." Barris instructed, before leading us onward. "This way."

More stairs and another landing brought us to more templars fighting for their lives. One shouted for the templars coated in red lyrium to stop, but they refused. We joined the fight, numbers making quick work of the corrupted knights. 

"Thank you," one said. "Our brethren have gone mad. There are more of the red ones above." She was steady despite the circumstances.

"We've been directing survivors towards the lower barracks—" Barris began.

"No, we face these traitors with you," the other retorted, his eyes livid, but clear of the red.

"We will need all the templars we can get to face the Breach," I stated. 

"There will be no point if you don't survive, Herald," the first stated. "We fight with you."

"Wait here, then," Barris ordered. "I want to check something. Herald, if you would." Barris led us over to a door we'd passed, stress plain on his face. "This is the knight-captain's quarters. He was refusing anyone entry. Keys, Commander." Cullen tossed the keys to Barris.

"Do we have time for this?" Cassandra asked.

"I fear what truths may be revealed," Barris stated as he worked on the lock. "We may need it to confront the Lord Seeker properly."

"You believe this corruption extends all the way to the Lord Seeker?" Cullen questioned, a scowl on his face.

The door swung open as Barris pushed against it. Denam's quarters were a mess, and I had to cover my nose as the smell of death filled my nostrils. I glanced around until my eyes landed on a body on the floor. Barris rushed forward to turn the body over. "To answer your question, Commander, I fear that may be the case." Barris looked up at us. "This is Knight-Vigilant Trentwatch. The Lord Seeker told us he died at the Conclave."

"The Lord Seeker is either a fool or a liar," Vivienne stated as she examined her nails. I didn't know how the woman still looked immaculate. The rest of us were rain-soaked, covered in blood, and wearing various expressions of anxiousness.

"I'm beginning to understand why I've never met an old templar," Varric observed, his eyes flicking to Cullen.

"Andraste, guide us," Cullen murmured as he knelt to examine the body. "A mortal wound from a sword thrust. This was murder." Cullen stood and began searching the quarters, his face growing harder by the second. He reached the desk and sorted through the paperwork there. He picked up a piece of parchment and read over it quickly. "I fear you're right, Barris. This is a letter from the Lord Seeker to Trentwatch asking him to come to Therinfal covertly. He was to meet Denam and then the Lord Seeker here in Denam's office. He never left." Barris went to Cullen's side and took the parchment, reading over the words written.

Cassandra had been investigating the body when Cullen made his announcement. "The Lord Seeker lied. Maker, help us."

"Was the knight-captain hiding the body for the Lord Seeker?" Barris questioned as he read and reread the letter. "Did he kill the man himself? Maker, what’s happening to the Order?"

"What went on here, Barris? The whole of it," Cullen demanded. His voice was commanding.

"Knight-Captain Denam told us the knight-vigilant died at the Conclave," Barris told Cullen. "Our officers hid a murder. Did they manipulate us for this 'Elder One' nonsense the knight-captain screamed about?" Barris's anger was growing as was his bitterness. Cullen looked at the man, some sympathy in his eyes. I could only guess that Cullen could relate to Barris's situation. 

Murder. Corruption. Betrayal. Lies. But what or who is this Elder One?

"So, you truly know nothing of this Elder One?" I asked.

"No. Templars serve the Maker and the Light of Andraste," Barris shook his head. "As I said, I’ve never heard of an 'Elder One' before the knight-captain began ranting."

"Why aren't all the templars corrupted? Why are you still alive?" Cassandra asked.

"The knight-captain said he was trying to change us all?" Barris pondered. "Nothing in this makes sense."

"If the Lord Seeker and knight-captain are compromised, who now leads you?" I asked, looking to both Cullen and Barris. Cullen was looking at more documents on the knight-captain's desk, tucking anything he found important into his cuirass, before he began searching the drawers and Denam's personal chest.

"Officers across Thedas," Barris stated before he gripped his sword tightly. His eyes landed on the dead knight-vigilant once more. "How many have fallen to this madness, I don’t know. How long was this planned? How long has this lie poisoned us?" Barris's eyes stayed on the body for a few moments before meeting my stare. "I never met the knight-vigilant, but he was respected. Now I wonder how much of the war was the Lord Seeker and my captain." Barris lifted his chin. "We're owed an explanation. The dead are owed more." Cullen stiffened at Barris's words. He turned towards the man, his eyes wide and full of that haunted expression again. 

"We'll find out what's going on. For now, we need to move on," I instructed.

"I pray the Lord Seeker can explain this madness; that he is not truly involved," Barris voiced. "Up the next few flights of stairs to the main hall."

As we filed out of the office, Cullen pulled me aside. "Do you keep hearing it? Is that why you've been crying out in pain?" I could see the worry and anger in his eyes. Not anger at me, but at whatever was causing me pain.

"I do," I admitted. "It hurts and...it's getting worse." I met his eyes and lowered my voice. "I will be all right. You need to stay focused."

"I fear what this means," he murmured.

"What do you fear it is?" I asked searching his face.

"Your description of the voice..." he began but shook his head. His eyes were intense when they met mine. "Do not leave my side," he growled. 

We exited the office, following Barris and the others up a set of stairs which opened to a landing. From the center of the landing grew a huge flight of stairs. More dead littered the area. The dead grew in number as we cut our way through more of the corrupted templars. 

The Herald of Andraste! It’s time we became better acquainted! Come. Show me what kind of female you really are. What do you think to accomplish? What will you become? 

I screamed in agony, clutching my head as my knees buckled. Cullen stepped in front of me, blocking a blow that would have been my death. He let out a defiant cry as he thrust his sword into the neck of the corrupted templar and fought on. As the pain subsided, I shakily cast barriers over them all. Once the corrupted were cut down, Cullen helped me hurry up the stairs with the others before we crashed our way through the large doors to the main hall. 

"Maker, save us," Cullen breathed. "Andraste, give us strength. What have they done?"

Similar statements passed through the group as we entered the hall. Inhuman wails pierced our ears as we beheld the scene before us. Corrupted and uncorrupted templars fought. Dead were strewn everywhere. Among the red lyrium templars were mutilated horrors. Humanoid monstrosities; mottled skin stretched over armor and torn apart by large deposits of red lyrium. They wailed before they attacked: the sound a mixture of unbearable pain and madness as they clutched their heads. Elongated claws swung at their prey, tearing through armor, flesh, and bone. Lifeless eyes stared through the slits in the helms that were fused with their skulls, rotting teeth like a smile as the skin of their face was pulled taut over the bones. Beyond the horrors, hulking masses stalked through the mob of fighting bodies, their chests heaving with heavy breaths. Crystals decorated them as well and though they looked more human than the horrors, it was only just enough to make anyone who looked upon them feel despair. 

Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost. 

A horror charged us, shooting red lyrium from its palms and we sprang into action. I cast barriers. Cullen and Cassandra deflected its projectiles with their shields. Varric and Vivienne hurled arrows and ice at it. Barris charged the creature as it slowed. As the blows landed, a putrid smell filled the air. Nausea rolled in my gut, the room beginning to spin and I nearly blacked out. I felt hands catch me before I hit the ground, pulling me to my feet.

"Stay with me, Herald," Cullen's voice commanded. "Contain the gas in a barrier or that thing will kill us all! Barris, get back! Varric, ready an arrow with fire."

I shook my head to clear it and did as he instructed. I waited for the others to attack and summoned a barrier. The gas the lyrium produced from the creature's wounds swirled around within. The horror clawed at the barrier until it eventually shattered. 

"Now, Varric!" Cullen commanded. Varric grunted as he shot his arrow. As the flames met the gas, it and the horror exploded, spraying us with remnants of the creature.

"Lovely," Vivienne's voice muttered in disgust. I looked at her to find her comment applied to the rest of us and not herself. 

"Come on!" Barris shouted. "The others need help!"

We threw ourselves into the fray and all I could do was pray none of us were injured. I listened to Cullen's directions, casting barriers, freezing enemies, creating walls for the others to use as cover. Cullen stayed next to me, but distracted by the battle, neither of us sensed the figure creeping its way towards us until I felt hands upon me. Cold and cruel, nails scraping my neck as fingers fisted my hair, yanking me down and dragging me. I screamed in pain at the contact. It seared hotter than fire burning against my flesh, sapping the strength from me, making it nearly impossible to think.

"I will know you," that voice hissed in my ear.

 "Herald!" Cullen's voice shouted over the noise of battle, his eyes searching for me as he turned. 

I was swallowed by the fighting bodies, blocked from his view as my attacker dragged me along the floor by my hair. Screams kept pouring from throat; I was unable to form any words through the haze of pain. Bleary as they were, my eyes searched for him. Panic settling in when I couldn't find him amongst the swarm of battle. The fighting separated for a moment, and I saw him trapped between two horrors and a corrupted knight. His face was ferocious as he swung his blade and blocked with his shield. Eyes blazing as he ruthlessly tore through his foes. 

"HERALD!" he bellowed. 

He was blocked from my view again as the hands yanked mercilessly on my hair. I was being dragged out of the hall. I tried to find purchase on the floor, tried to focus enough to use my magic, but the pain was unbearable at the effort. Knowing it was my last chance for Cullen to hear me as I was being pulled out a door, I sucked in a breath before screaming at the top of my lungs, the feeling like glass splintering in my chest, "CULLEN!"

In answer, I heard a roar tear through the main hall. Not a shout, not a battle cry or defiant yell, but a roar: as if from a wild beast described in one of Minaeve's books. That roar made my heart quicken, rallying strength within me when I felt none. Yet, I feared for him, what he would do in that kind of frenzy. Cullen. Cullen! Maker, Andraste, keep him safe! The hands continued to drag me away from the main hall, through an open courtyard and into a dark room that smelled of death and blood. Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame. Maker, give me strength. Andraste, guide me. Whoever had me by the hair came to my front and grabbed me by the neck once more, shoving me against the wall.

Through the haze of excruciating pain, I saw a cruel smile before that voice spoke again, "At last." Please, help me.

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."