Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kirkwall Circle erupts. College of Enchanters disbands. Failed assassination of Divine Justinia V . Rite of Tranquility investigated. Lord Seeker Lambert detains First Enchanters. Mages run for Andoral's Reach. Circle of Daismuid annulled. First Enchanters vote for independence. Nevarran Accord voided. Templars declare independence...and begin hunting mages.

All of Thedas looks to Divine Justinia to end the war between mages and templars as more and more innocents are caught in the fighting. The Divine calls a Conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes inviting all sides to a meeting. Representatives from the Circles, as well as mage rebel leaders and followers are invited to the Conclave to talk, to come to an agreement.

The Circle of Ostwick sends four of their own. Two mages and two templars ride briskly beneath the shadows of the Vinmark Mountains. A perilous trip considering rogue templars and apostates attack travelers on sight. The Ostwick templars keep eyes on trees and bushes wary of every movement as the four head to Kirkwall where a ship to Fereldan awaits them.

At a narrow point in the road three templars block the travelers' passage. Initially, there's no sign of threat. Templars traveling on legitimate business shouldn't be bothered by other templars hunting apostates. The three templars in the road ask where the travelers are headed.

"We're representatives from the Ostwick Circle," the lead Ostwick templar says, "heading to the Conclave at the Temple of Ashes."

"Are you?" The older pepper haired templar sneers as he pulls his sword for no apparent reason. "The Lord Seeker tasks templars to purge all mages. Protecting these mages makes you derelict of your duties, your sacred oath. These mages will be put to the sword. Help us, brothers, or die."

Before the Ostwick templars protest, the three rogue templars are upon them. Overwhelmed, the travelers get no time to respond. A sword through the rib cage dispatches the lead Ostwick templar. The second Ostwick templar parries an attack but falls to another sword through his side. Ostwick's finest die before defending their charges.

The older male mage pulls his staff, raging over the unprovoked attack. Fire spews hitting the pepper hair templar. His attack is cut off by another templar's dispel. The mage's life ends by a sword through the chest.

The second Ostwick mage, a young woman by the name of Evelyn Trevelyn, freezes at the sound of swords pulling from sheaves. The world's truly gone mad if templars are killing other templars. She knows her place, knows the consequences of disobedience and it involves a templar. Even if she wants to return the attack she hasn't the magic to take on all three templars. As the templars approach, she regrets not taking those Archane Warrior lessons offered at the Circle.

A strange calm sweeps over her. She makes no pleas nor attempts to reach her stave. Look at the situation, analyze what is before you and then act. Very sensible. Frozen by a helpful immobilizing fear, she considers her situation with great clarity: This will not end well. She's knocked unconscious.

Evelyn wakes to the smell of a fire. Finding her hands tied she concludes her situation hasn't improved. She's a captive to rogue templars. Doom. She's not a positive attitude kind of person who thinks bunnies and rainbows. What she thinks is what terrible luck to be attacked on her first excursion from the Circle since her incarceration fourteen years earlier.

Across from her two men are drinking. Opposite her the eldest templar meets her eyes.

"You know," he says to his friends, "Don't think this one's a Circle mage. She looks more like an apostate."

Another templar agrees, "Bet you're right. Templars respect good Circle mages staying where they should but she's runnin' round like an apostate. That's trouble."

"Do you know what an apostate is little girl?" Asks the older templar suffering from a freshly burned cheek thanks to her fellow mage.

Always remember the Circle survival rules. Rule one: Don't cause trouble.

"An apostate is one who's turned from the Chantry." She says, "Unlike the templars who abandoned the Chantry, I am not an apostate."

Apparently she forgot Rule two: Don't piss off templars. Serious consequences for breaking the rules.

The templar laughs at the mage's stupid bravery, loving that she isn't holding her tongue. "Oh, we have a wise one here. Well, you're not where you're supposed to be and THAT is what we templars call an apostate. She needs a lesson in obedience."

The others pull her to her feet. Fear shuts down reason. She is reduced to begging even though Begging Doesn't Help. "Why are you doing this? Please, I'm no trouble to you."

"The Chantry betrayed the Order so we bow no more to their authority. Templars are on a holy mission to rid Thedas of every filthy apostate we find."

The two hold her in front of the burn-on-cheek templar. A painful wound. As he pinches her chin she stupidly offers a bit of help. "I know a little healing magic. Could take care of that burn for you."

Without warning a punch to the face throws her to the ground. “Grab that rope. Tie her to the tree. Andraste met the fire, let's see if this one can meet the lash."

She's dragged across the ground. She's pressed into bark while they tie her to the tree.

Evelyn Trevelyn, youngest daughter of a noble family, knows only verbal punishment. No one raises a hand, belt or stick to any Trevelyan child. An Ostwick Circle templar delivered her first physical punishment: a fast backhand for an unruly remark. The Chantry holds rights to a mage’s life but templars wield control and discipline. No punishment at the Circle prepared her for the whip.

The first lash slices deep into fragile skin sending a paralyzing shock across her body robbing lungs of air. The body freezes as a second lash rips across tender skin sending warm blood across her back. She chokes on air refusing to exit her lungs.

The third she grits her teeth. The fourth a scream issues against her will. By the seventh lash sounds from her mouth are deep guttural deformed noises that last to the next drop of the whip. On the tenth she involuntarily urinates. By the fifteenth her fingers are bloodied from gripping rough bark. By twenty she stops screaming. Eyes unable to focus, blurry figures sway about like a dream.

Pleased with their work, the templars admire the body slumped against a tree: a bloodied back, bits of flesh hanging, an apostate barely conscious.

She prays for the end of her life with the little coherent thoughts remaining. The crisp crack of the whip resumes.

When the whip stops she doesn't notice. When the templars scream she doesn't understand.

She falls from the tree trunk like a rag doll. She's picked off the ground and wrapped in rough cloth. She'll be dropped in a shallow grave, but she no longer cares. She surrenders the life she wants. She'd even return to the Circle as long as the pain ends. Mercifully, the world turns gray, then black. Her eyes shut submitting her life to the Maker.

The aroma of cooking food confuses her. Eyes open. She puzzles at a dusty dirt floor in front of her. Pain floods across her back causing teeth to grit. A deep guttural growl wakes every inch of her body. She tries to lift herself. Her body defies her wishes and she remains face down on scratchy material.

A gentle hand touches her arm. A soft voice speaks, “Easy, everything is okay. You're among friends. You’re safe."

A pair of knees appear. “Where am I? Who are you?”

“You're in a cave, our hideout. We’re mages, apostates, just like you.”

“How did you find me? What about the templars?” Her hand touches his knee. Knee is real. Her hand catches a bit of cloth. She needs something real.

“Apostates, not me, rescued you, brought you here. I'm treating your wounds. If there are to be introductions, Healer is what everyone calls me.”

“Healer? Not John, Mike or Bob?"

“Safer to use nicknames in case anyone gets caught: well, Sur Templar I wasn't hanging out with the notorious rebel Anders. I hang out with Chair and Cook. We're clever like that. Now lay still, I'll ease the pain.”

"Great Maker, thank you." She stares at a pair old leather shoes as he sends healing magic across her body. Warmth passes across the back and deep into the muscles easing the pain. This is not typical healing magic. He is a spirit healer.

"So, what brings you to our side of our mountain?" He asks a bit too cheerful.

“You're funny. I like that. Me? I have the fortune, or misfortune, to represent the Ostwick Circle. I was... we were on our way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes."

The treatment complete, he sits on the ground so she can see him, head to toe. He is thirty to thirty-five years old. Unkempt brownish blond hair. Short bushy beard that hadn’t a decent cut in probably forever. His old mage coat covers some much worn clothes. Contrasting his disheveled state, his eyes are gentle and kind.

“You can't travel. Your wounds are serious. Require more healing. Could tear open if you travel too soon.”

“How soon can I travel?"

“Couple of days to close and heal wounds. Recommend you stay longer. Deep scarring takes time to reduce properly, so like a couple of weeks. ” He says. "You're welcome to stay. You're safe here. You're free. Is there a reason to go to the Conclave? "

"I want to see if things will get better."

"Better for mages? Thedas will never allow someone who can win arguments by throwing fire balls to live free. Now rest and I'll fetch food and water.” He gets up to leave but stops. "Sorry your friends are dead. I'm curious. What made those templars torture you? Could have just killed you like the others. Why the torture?"

"Usually I keep my head down but I forgot and mouthed off. Bad habit. Shouldn't have."

"That explains it. Templars do as they want and mages have to sit and take it. Mages quit throwing stuffed unicorns because no one listens to us. Rebellion was the only solution."

"So that's why you and your friends live in a cave."

"Yep."

Evelyn resigns herself. Is her only future the Circle? "So, I'll never be free?"

The healer sighs, "They'll always come for us. Always."

Two days later, wounds healed enough to travel, she packs a bag with a few provisions provided by her apostate friends. Healer shares a final morning meal with her. “So, off to the Conclave for no reason I can see?"

"What if this Conclave's a chance for real change? As the Ostwick Circle representative I can be part of that voice. Oh, and for a bonus round, I'm hoping my two brothers will be there. My family's involved in the Ostwick Chantry. There's a hope that one of my brothers will help. Forget my parents helping. Me being an apostate, disowned. My families' great shame. What about you? Ever thought of leaving here?”

“Some of us will always be apostates. Criminals wanted by the Chantry. Executed if caught or worse, made tranquil. Some things cannot be forgiven. Healing is my penance. Maybe I help you so you can save the world.”

"How cliché: save the world. Me? Ha!" She laughs. Healer made her laugh a lot the last few days. Outside the Circle with no restraints, she feels more herself around him. The Circle monitors relationships. Even friendship risks consequences. Like the new friendship with Healer. She'll miss his jokes. She'll miss him.

"What’s wrong? Why this serious look?” He asks.

“The Chantry says the Circle is my home but it isn't. It's life in captivity, a life in limbo. You've made me feel safe and welcome. I've not felt that way in a long time."

"So, how did you manage to survive in the Circle?" He asks.

"Did everything wrong: complained, bickered, argued, pushed. Templars pushed back. Mages like that eventually disappear. Sometimes show up tranquil. I worried that was my fate. So I changed. I became 'small' and unnoticed. Quit being me. Stuck my nose in a book and never looked up. Eventually the First Enchanter noticed me. I gained his trust and his protection. What about you, how did you survive?"

"Besides a talent for escaping, I learned sexual favors go a long way in the Circle." He replies with a small smirk

"Great maker! I don't fault mages who do but... Avoided templars who look for those kind of favors, I just want... I want to experience love and all that goes with it. Not what happens in ten minutes in a dark corner. Not a quick favor for a templar. Never with a templar. I want the love two people feel who know each other, who have time to learn what they want...to learn what I want. To give as much as they give. Love in its fullest. How stupid does that sound, you know, love in the Circle?"

"I had love in the Circle. Yes, our time was brief, but it meant everything."

"What happen?"

"I escaped. He did nothing wrong but love me. They punished him, made tranquil."

"Maker, it's hard not to hate all of them! The Chantry, the Circle, templars. Who gives them the right to say we have no future? I hate them for making us believe it.”

"Don't dwell on it. You have an opportunity to get out there. If things don't work out, you can always come back to us."

"What is your real name.”

“No. The risk is too great, to all of us here. Our time ends when you leave. Don't worry about me. Worry about you.” He hugs her tight, "You're a special friend, however brief, so I'd appreciate if you'd take care of yourself."

Chapter Text

The journey to Haven and the Conclave stirs no hope for Evelyn. Apprehension hangs like a dark cloud blurring any view to the future. She braves forward arriving at the small village of Haven, gateway to the Temple of Ashes, only a day late. In this time of crisis, The Temple of Ashes stands a beacon of hope for peace.

Could there be peace between templars and mages? From the gossip Evelyn heard in the Circle, the Lord Seeker barely agreed to Divine Justinia's Conclave. Half the attendees believe it is an ambush, they'll be caught in a trap. Some hope a temporary cease fire will be the first step to peace and a new alliance between Chantry, templars and mages. Could there be a new cooperation? Evelyn is pessimistic leaning toward attending is a very bad idea. She should have stayed with the cave dwelling apostates and her new healer friend.

Templars in full armor, mages wearing their finest robes, and Chantry hierarchy crowd the main hall. Participants mingle yet eyes dart at their adversaries' sheathed swords and holstered staves as if all souls are barrels of gaatlok sitting close to an open fire. Without her mage robe or stave and after badly cutting her hair short, Evelyn looks more like a peasant or servant rather than Ostwick Circle's official representative.

In the main hall, Evelyn asks mingling guests if any had seen a Trevelyan or representative from Ostwick. A cleric from Markham Circle remembers a Trevelyan asking for directions to the library wing not too long ago.

Descending the stairs from a brightly lit expansive main hall to the library wing feels like climbing into a hole that grows dimmer with each step. The stairwell ends at a large hall with a statue of a woman in the center. She walks the perimeter looking for the library. Twenty feet around the hall she spots a table with a pile of books. Above the door is an open book sign indicating she's found the library. As she nears a closed door she over hears a deep bellowing voice coming from another closed door. She considers investigating then moves past the door

In the library is a brother she hasn't seen in fourteen years. She feels hope and she can't think why. Probably she isn't paying enough attention. Evelyn grumbles to herself to get a hold of her emotions. After fourteen years in the Circle nothing is certain. If you're feeling good it means you don't fully understand the situation.

Feelings aside, Evelyn takes a sure but cautious step forward. Just then a woman's cry bursts through the door next to her. A desperate plea for help. She isn't going to be sensible. With no thought except someone needs help, she opens the door and steps into…nothing.

Evelyn's next clearest memory is falling hard on the ground.

Field Report, Supplemental – Ruins, Temple of Ashes
Submitted by Cassandra Pentaghast
Previous report stated no survivors found in the temple ruins. A second sweep (two hours later?) soldiers found a single survivor in the central court ruins. Woman, unknown identity. Condition is…she's a mess is best I can describe. Sent to Haven for healing.

According to witnesses (soldiers who found her) claim the survivor emerged from the Fade Rift then collapsed unconscious. The soldiers insist there was a second person (possibly a woman?) behind the survivor.

Very alarming is the survivor’s left hand. It glows an intense green sparkling light…some kind of magical energy? Note: green light is same color as the Breach (related?). Serious, I think this is important. Best she is secured and guarded. Keep a close watch on woman...she is not to be trusted.

That apostate elf, Solas, requested to look at the survivor’s hand. Elf seems very knowledgeable about this Breach (his name for massive hole in sky). He believes the Breach and the survivor’s Anchor (his name for green thing on hand) is related (anyone think this suspicious?).

This Solas appeared very soon after the Temple of Ashes exploded. He claims he wasn't attending the Conclave, he was “in the area.” (So why is he here?) His knowledge of the Fade, that he references the hole in the sky as "the Breach", and calls the mark on her hand an "Anchor" (what does THAT mean) seems convenient. The elf is cordial and friendly yet he is an apostate in the middle of the Mage-Templar war. He walks right up to us and offers help. Insists he is best suited to tend to the survivor. She's in a desperate state so I let him. All this seems very suspicious. But this may just be my opinion.
Cassandra
Copies to Leliana, Cullen, Josephine
Note: I am not good at writing. Can someone else do these?

.

Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Liliana walk down into the Chantry’s holding cells. The survivor found at the ruins gained consciousness early that morning. Word spread quickly. People are angry and point blame squarely at the survivor.

Below, Cassandra and Leliana find soldiers pointing swords at the shackled prisoner kneeling on the floor. Cassandra looks over the woman. She doesn't appear evil but looks can be misleading. Commander Rutherford confirms she is a mage and the mark on her hand emanates an unusual magic. He warns the prisoner could be concealing a demon but the Commander has history with possessed mages and is a bit paranoid.

Cassandra and Leliana already agree the woman is an apostate escaped from a Circle. While on the run she ran into the wrong people: Horrific scars covered her back: she was flogged her without mercy. Easy guess who would torture an apostate. Fortunate she found a spirit healer. No other method produced such good healing.

The survivor glances at the two women standing over her. The strange green mark on her palm suddenly crackles and sparks. She cries out in pain.

“Who are you?” Cassamdra demands.

“Evelyn, my name is Evelyn Trevelyn from the Circle of Magi in Ostwick. I was sent to the Conclave.” She notices that the dark hair woman wears the Seekers of Truth armor. Both mages and templars feared Seekers. If a Seekers shows up to a Circle, best hide. Seekers are bad news.

The red haired woman jumps at her, “Ostwick? You lie! Ostwick Circle fell. You're an apostate.”

The strange green mark on her hand comes back to life crackling and sparkling, pulsing a green light. The pain is worse than before and she cries out again. When the crackling subsides, the Seeker grabs her left hand and demands, “Explain this.”

The prisoner's eyes grow wide as the pain lingers. “I can’t.”

The Seeker isn't letting up. “Can't? What happen at the Conclave? Think hard. Your life depends on it.”

"I don’t know." She answers, "It was dark. Something was chasing me. There was a woman.”

"A woman?" The red head woman asks.

The Seeker is impatient and cuts to the point, “The Mark on your hand is killing you. There is a chance that, whatever that is, can affect the Breach and in turn stabilize your mark. Help us. This is a chance to redeem yourself.”

“If I can help, if this thing can help. What's a breach?”

"I am Cassandra and this is Leliana." Cassandra pulls her to her feet, “I'm taking you to the ruins.”

"The ruins?" Puzzles Evelyn, "What ruins?"

Chapter Text

Strange and only getting stranger. A prisoner. Magical mark embedded in hand. A Seeker of Truth. A Breach. A chance to be redeemed. No matter how much she tries nothing the two women say makes sense. When she steps outdoors she witnesses a dark chasm nearly filling the sky swirling dangerously, clouds gravitating around it, lightening shooting from its center. She looks to Cassandra for answers.

"We call it the Breach. It is a massive tear into the world of demons. It is growing. Eventually it will swallow the world. It is the end of life as we know it." Cassandra tells her.

This, Evelyn thinks, is worse than anything she imagined.

Cassandra guides her through a gathering of people who glare and hiss at her. Evelyn moves close to Cassandra irritating the Seeker, “What is the matter with you?”

Evelyn backs off slightly, “These people don’t like me. Your dungeon guards tried very hard not to stab me.”

“The people are afraid. They believe you blew up the Temple of Ashes, that you killed Divine Justinia.”

Evelyn's feet cease movement. “What!? The Divine is dead? The Temple blew up? ME!?”

“An explosion destroyed the Temple of Ashes and created the Breach in the sky." Cassandra explains. "The Divine is dead. Everyone at the Conclave is dead, except you. The people need someone to blame. I can promise there will be a trial.”

Once out of Haven’s grounds, Cassandra cuts Evelyn’s bindings. “Spirits and demons escape through the Breach so the path is dangerous. It is possible I cannot protect you.”

Dangerous is an understatement. Spirits attack as they walked up the hill. Evelyn stands paralyzed.

People think Circle mages skilled magical fighters, masters of spirits and demons, but this isn't entirely true. Yes, mages are trained in magic. For most it's book knowledge and safe practice indoors. Few have real battle magic experience. What templar wants to watch over a room of twenty fire mages who could collectively reduce a man to charcoal in two seconds? Better to watch five fire mages and fifteen theoretical magic students.

Outside the Harrowing, her experience with spirits and demons is books. Zero experience in battle magic, but she can warm bath water and cool wine.

Cassandra skillfully eliminates several spirits. Things take a bad turn when a third spirit takes notice of the wide eye defenseless mage. One hit from the spirit and Evelyn decides this is fight or die. She grabs a large rock and she throws it at the spirit. Okay, quick thinking but as suspected, spirits don’t like getting hit with rocks. She runs for cover only to trip on a tree branch. Cassandra fights another spirit unaware of her prisoner's predicament.

Evelyn scrambles on her knees looking for another rock or stick, something. Reaching for another rock, the putrid smell of human decay smacks her nose. Great maker, it's a rotting corpse of a dead mage…mage because in death it clutch's a stave. She grabs the stave hoping for an ice element base because first thing she'll do is freeze the corpse to stop the odor. Once on her feet she turns right into Cassandra pointing a sword.

“Drop it!” Cassandra's eyes are deadly steel.

Don’t mess with Seekers. “Fine but you said you can’t always defend me.”

“You're right,” Cassandra sheathes her sword. “I should remember you agreed to help.”

Farther up the path they run into a group fighting spirits and demons near a Fade Rift. Cassandra plunges into the thick of the fighting. Evelyn ends up next to a dwarf with a deadly and spectacular cross bow-thingamajigger.

She gives her newly acquired stave a spin but all it did is sputter. Just great, stave is broken. She smashes the head of an approaching demon with the useless stave and her dwarf friend follows up with a bolt from his deadly cross bow. Dead demon by bash and bolt.

An elf runs at her yelling to use the Mark. She looks at him with furrowed brows as she had no idea what he is talking about. Before she asks, he grabs her left hand and shoves it toward the Rift. A green energy explodes from her palm connecting with the Rift. Everyone watches in wonder. Evelyn clenches her teeth at the pain. When the light show ends the Fade Rift disappears. She debates slugging the elf but everyone begins cheering.

The elf is aware he just violated her person. Gently he explains his actions. "I theorized the Anchor would interact with the Fade Rift. By directing its energy to the Rift, it sealed it shut. In theory, the Anchor can close the massive Breach in the sky."

At least Cassandra looks pleased at his explanation. Dandy, Evelyn thinks. This day gets weirder and weirder.

Two more oddities in a very strange and dangerous day: Solas, a handsy elf full of theories, and Varric, a dwarf with fabulous chest hair and a unique crossbow named Bianca. Besides her Harrowing, she can't think of a stranger day in her life.

Cassandra takes the group to a forward camp closer to the destroyed temple. She finds Leliana discussing the situation with a Chancellor Roderick who immediately turns his attention to Evelyn.

“This is the survivor? I want her arrested and prepared for transportation to Val Royeaux for immediate execution.”

Evelyn looses all self-control, “What no last meal? Is this because I am a mage or is it the incriminating green glowing hand? Genius! The world is ending and a mage is to blame. Call the templars!”

Evelyn jokes otherwise she'd break from the stress.

Cassandra ignores Evelyn and growls at the man, “The Chancellor is a glorified clerk, he gives no orders here.”

Ignoring the glorified Chantry clerk, a debate ensues as to which route to take to the ruins: The mountain path or charge with the soldiers? The discussion quickly deadlocks.

Cassandra looks to Evelyn “What do you think?”

“Me? You want my opinion?”

“You have the Mark, you should decide.” Solas concurs.

Evelyn looks at the group. Fourteen years in the circle and she learned Mages Should Never Lose Their Cool but at the moment, the contradictions, threats to her life, the possibility of prison, a trial....she just snaps.

“Exactly how did I go from a despicable, Divine-killing apostate to the smartest person in the room? I have the Mark so I'm the best judge? I’m not from here! I don’t know the area! But I should decide? I still don't know what the hell is going on!”

“Fine." Cassandra says, "We charge with the soldiers. Let’s move, things will get worse the longer it takes to reach the ruins.”

As luck has it another Rift blocks entrance to the ruins. Cassandra’s group joins with soldiers just holding their own against the demons. Evelyn sneaks around toward the Rift and any demon drawing near gets smacked with her broken stave. Between the additional fighters and Evelyn's sneak and beat strategy, they win the battle and seal the Breach.

As the situation gets under control, Evelyn notes a senior officer stares like she's about to turn into an abomination. He speaks to Cassandra without taking his eye off her. “Thanks for the intervention, we were barely holding our own against the demons.”

Cassandra puts her hand on Evelyn’s shoulder, “Don’t thank me, this is our prisoner’s doing. Commander Rutherford is in charge of our soldiers.”

The Commander glares as if she isn't human, his discomfort plain across his face. He mumbles quietly to himself but Evelyn hears what he says, "The Maker sends a corrupted mage with a magical Mark of unknown power. Andraste guide me, I cannot fail again."

"What did you say, Commander?" Asks Cassandra.

“I said, I hope what they say is true about her because we lost a lot of good people today.”

"What a Liar," Evelyn thinks as she looks at the disagreeable man and then at the Mark on her hand, “Don't worry, if this doesn’t work Chancellor Roderick is sending me straight to the hangman’s noose.”

It doesn't escape Evelyn's notice that the man's eyes remain locked on her. It's my hair, she thinks. She cut her hair off after leaving the apostates to look more like a peasant. She probably looks horrid.

Cassandra guides her by the shoulder, “We must get to the temple. There is no time to spare. We must close that rift.”

“Or die trying?” Evelyn agrees to go if only to save her own skin but it's like facing the Harrowing. Death is on the table.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Cassandra answers.

Field Report Sealing the Breach
Ruins at Temple of Ashes
Solas told us the massive Rift was improperly closed. It had to be re-opened so it could be safely sealed.

Per Solas’ instructions, the prisoner, Evelyn, used the Mark to re-open the rift. A pride demon emerged. Archers took first shot to lower the demon’s defenses. Several people were lost in the battle before the demon was killed. Evelyn closed the Fade Rift successfully. The Breach in the sky is stable, but not entirely sealed. The Anchor needs more power to close the Breach completely.

According to Solas, both the Breach and Evelyn's Anchor are stable.

As the Rift closed it sent an energy wave throwing everyone across the grounds. Evelyn was closest to the Rift and was hurled into a wall. She's alive but unconscious.

Important Note: Our arrival triggered visions. Solas says the visions reflect recent events. The Fade's Memories or echoes of what happened.

Fade Memories Witnessed
A dark, deep voiced, unseen figure speaks about the "hour of our victory." We see the Divine restrained with magic. The dark figure calls the Divine “the sacrifice.”

The Divine calls for help. A door opens. Our survivor enters the room. The dark man calls her an intruder. He orders the intruder killed.

Reactions
According to what we witnessed, Evelyn responded to the Divine plea for help. She entered the room during the assault on the Divine. The unseen figure is responsible for entrapping the Divine.

Somehow, by the explosion or other intervention the impossible happens and Evelyn is thrown into the Fade. Solas is very concerned. The last time a human entered the Fade the Blights began.

Personal Note from Cassandra
My faith tells me Andraste guided Evelyn to the Divine’s side. I believe Andraste protected Evelyn from the explosion by sending her into the Fade. I believe Andraste returned her from the Fade to warn us of coming dangers and bestowed the Anchor as a weapon against the coming evil.
(Yes, I insist my personal opinion written in this report. Many people believe as I do so it is important to mention.)
Cassandra
Copies to Sister Leliana, Cullen and Josephine

Chapter Text

Evelyn wakes up in a place, a strange bed, and dressed in an outfit with decorative rivets. Nice waking in a comfortable bed wearing clean clothes. Something went right, she guesses, except her left hand still glows green.

Evelyn scares the stuffing out of a young elven girl who walks in unannounced, dropping wood all over the floor. "You're awake! They say you closed the breach. You saved us all!”

“That's a bit of good news," Evelyn responds. "When's the trial or are they sending me back to the Circle?”

“I don’t know. Cassandra wants to see you. She's in the Chantry with Chancellor Roderick. She said at once!” Poor girl couldn’t decide if she should flee or pick up the wood.

"What’s your name?”

“Cecilia, your Worship.”

“Did you just call me 'your worship' or is that your last name?”

“Yes…I mean no, I mean you’re Your Worship. I’m just Cecilia.”

“Hmm. Alright. Don’t worry about the wood. I’ll tell Cassandra you told me right away.”

The young elf backs from the room like she's leaving a royal chamber.

Evelyn looks around. The cabin has a single bed, a bookshelf, some boxes, and an empty bird cage. The door is unlocked. Definitely not a dungeon. She peeks out but sees no guard.

She bravely steps out only to find herself in another strange situation. People line up along the front of the cabin and down the path. Some stare in awe, others stand with their mouths open. Some pray. A few kneel as she steps forward.

This is disturbing, Evelyn thinks. Is this why the young lady addressed her as 'your worship? Today things are very, very different. Well, not a templar in sight so get your big girl britches moving. She cautiously walks through the people.

Whispers make no sense: “That’s the Herald of Andraste.” “Why did the Seeker have her in chains?” “She saved us.”

What is going on? Yesterday these people threatened to run her through with a sword. She braves forward. Outside the Chantry a line of chancellors and mothers standing by the door part to let her enter.

Inside she follows loud angry familiar voices to a closed door.

Inside, Cassandra and Leliana argue with Chancellor Roderick. As soon as Roderick sees her he demands she be arrested and sent to Val Royeaux for trial. Evelyn feels oddly relieved that Chancellor Roderick still wants her dead. Everyone else has lost their collective minds.

Cassandra reassures her that her Mark stabilized the Breach.

“I'm not under suspicion anymore?” she asks.

“You are under suspicion.” Chancellor Roderick says eager to put her in chains.

“I believe she's not guilty,” Cassandra says in her defense.

"Exactly what do you plan to do? About her. About all of this?"

Cassandra slams a large book on the table. “This writ from Divine Justinia officially revives the Inquisition of old. After the Lord Seeker voided the Nevarran Accord and the templars declared independence so the Inquisition was tasked to investigate the growing discord and restore order. By her orders, we stand ready to act if plans for peace failed. Now that she's gone, we officially step into that place: We will find a way to close the breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order.”

Evelyn's turn to stare wide eye, mouth gaping open. Holy crap, she thinks, this is completely unexpected.

“The breach remains and the anchor is the only hope to close it." Cassandra says firmly to Evelyn, "We need your help. Will you agree to stay and help?”

She looks at Cassandra’s extended hand, “Wait, first I am a prisoner, then I killed the divine. Somehow I have this Mark that closes the Breach and Rifts. Chancellor Roderrick wants me dead but you say I'm innocent. You do understand I am a bit...confused. If I stay and help what happens afterwards? A Circle? Assuming any are left."

“I cannot say. The Circles remain a problem but it's not our priority. For now, we face graver issues.”

The cabin's better than a dungeon or the Circle Evelyn thinks. She shakes Cassandra’s hand, “I’ll stay. To help. For now.”

. .

Evelyn's head swims with thoughts. A hole in the sky is trying to destroy the world. Now there's this Inquisition. Chancellor Roderick wants her executed for killing the Divine. That Commander thinks she's corrupt. Witnesses say that Andraste pushed her out of the Fade. People call her the 'Herald of Andraste'. Everything sounds absurd. And dangerous.

As crazy and dangerous as her first year at the Circle: the Year of Hell. Dragged into a life she didn't understand. Surrounded by windowless walls. Watched by templars all day long. Expected to conform to a life in captivity. She could barely hold her temper or keep her mouth shut. She got into trouble without even trying. The only way to survive is to be like the mindless tranquil: keep your mouth shut and obey. Is that what they expect here? Do what the Inquisition says and don't complain?

She heads to her cabin when Varric, the dwarf with the deadly crossbow, waves her over for a chat by the fire. She needs a friendly chat.

Varric looks around like someone is spying on him. “Now that Cassandra is out of range how are you holding up?”

“I’m not!” Evelyn replies a bit too loud. Careful now, calm down somewhere below boiling.

“You go from being the most wanted person in Thedas to the leader of the faithful and our only hope. Most people would try to stretch that out to more than one day. Written enough tragedies to know where this one is going. You might want to run at your first chance.”

“Running's on my list." Evelyn stares into the fire. "There may be a trial, I may just hang, or I'll be sent back to a Circle after the crazies finish worshiping me. This is not a case of no luck, or bad luck but having the strangest luck ever.”

Varric fought with her at the ruins so she asks, “Did anyone notice I can't fight, magic or sword? Not trained on a sword. Templars don't like mages who are. No idea what part of a person kills quickest. Pushed in the middle of a bunch of demons like I'm a battlemage. I'm not, by the way, a battlemage.”

“That explains the skilled demon head bashing. Sorry, Kid.”

Evelyn asks, “Kid?”

“Never mind. Kid isn’t it.”

“Should run but there's this rogue templar problem.” She looks at him, “Know where I can get a horse?”

“Been meaning to ask, who cut your hair?”

"Me. Part of a clever disguise to evade templars. Figured they were looking for a woman. Who’d knew male apostates were on the run too?”

“One of the ladies in the tavern is fairly good with scissors. Let me introduce you.”

“Thank you, Varric.” Nicest thing anyone's done for her, except not kill her.

“No problem, Rags.”

“What?”

He waves her off. “Just ignore me.”

“Sort of impossible with all that...chest…and hair. I have a thing for...chests. There’s coin there, you could charge women to touch. Never mind. Ignore me.”

“No problem, Snarky.”

“Snarky? Oh, sarcasm. Can’t help myself, sarcasm makes scary things feel smaller: You know, fourteen years under the templars…well, not literally under, lucky me." She jokes.

“The greater the threat the bloodier the sarcasm. Nice. Snarky works, for now.”

“Nice. Got any problems with mages?" she asks.

"Oh, I do. And Seekers, templars, and even nobles get on my nerves. Get past the magic, armor and attitude, most people are pretty nice. You met Curly, right?”

“Curly?”

“Cullen Rutherford, our golden hair commander. There's a chest you should investigate. Met in Kirkwall during the trouble: Chantry explosion, Circle collapse, the Knight-Commander melted down…literally, mind and body, in that order. Make a long story short he made one very smart decision that probably saved his life and slightly lessened the whole Kirkwall disaster. Since then he's hell bent on playing martyr until he atones for his sins. He's definitely going into one of my books.”

"You're a writer? Writing a book about all this? If I'm in the book can you make me beautiful? And red hair. Always wanted red hair. How about a singer, not a bard, a real singer. How about a romance with a handsome prince who can't get enough of me? Oh, probably asking too much. How about I survive with all limbs attached."

"How about a romance set in Kirkwall, all limbs attached? Course no one wants to be in Kirkwall."

“Don't I know. Kirkwall's a highlight in a series of events that made an already uncomfortable life in the Circle unbearable. Travel passes canceled, city visitation ended, no communication with family....privileges I never had any way. Ostwick was ready to blow up…figuratively. Little did I know I'd end up in the bright village of Haven hovering between the hangman’s noose and sainthood.”

“I love it. Glowing optimism and biting sarcasm. We’re going to get along just great, my friend. Let’s get a drink. I know this real nice tavern on the other side of my tent.”

"Are you in a relationship, Varric because I think I love you."

"Sorry. My heart is taken. Get in cue behind Cassandra. That contempt is a cover for an undying love and devotion for me."

.

The Inquisition
Cassandra and Leliana introduce her to Josephine Montilyet, the Inquisition's ambassador. Josephine fusses over Evelyn’s Herald status and its possibilities for the Inquisition.

“Why am I called this Herald.”

“Somehow you're at the Conclave that day, you survived and the Mark has power over Rifts. The Inquisition needs that Mark to close the breech.” Leliana says.

“People say Andraste herself gave you the Mark and sent you out of the Rift to help us.” Cassandra adds.

“Right, about that. Time to get this holy anointed stuff straighten out. No idea how I got this Mark but I'm not your Herald of Andraste, never got the memo. Other people are far more qualified so either Andraste mistook me for the chosen or perhaps I got in the way.”

“The Inquisition isn’t officially saying you're the Herald of Andraste. Word is spreading and people already believe. The Herald of Andraste has power over the rifts, power to persuade people, the power to give hope. The Inquisition can use that power to get things done.” Josephine says.

“Too bad I am not the Herald of Andraste.” Evelyn smirks. "Keep calling me that and you're going to get me killed."

“That people believe caught the attention of a certain Chantry Mother." Josephine gets to a point. "She's asked to speak with the Herald of Andraste. She is in Hinderlands helping the refugees.”

“Just speak with her?” Evelyn asks.

“All you have to do is speak with her.” Leliana says annoyed at the difficult to manage mage.

“Will the Herald be safe?” Josephine asks.

“I will go with her.” Cassandra says.

“I'll do whatever it takes to close up the sky,” Evelyn promises, “Eventually people will notice that your Herald of Andraste is a mage. Eventually people will want this little mage back in the Circle.”

Evelyn is directed to the training yard to speak with Commander Rutherford about Scout Harding and the Inquisition's camp in the Hinderlands. First time they met he glared the entire time. Naturally she has reservations about speaking with him. Despite his moodiness and that somehow she offends him, they will be working together so she'd do her best to get along with him.

Before she greets him he boasts about new recruits showing up without any recruitment efforts. Contrary to their first meeting, the Commander is kind, enthusiastic and upbeat about speaking with her. Eventually he gets around to addressing her directly.

"None of the recruits made quite the entrance you did.”

"I fell from the Fade. Wasn’t my choice.”

“I’d been worried if it was,” he says.

The Commander abruptly changes the subject. "Cassandra recruited me from the Kirkwall Circle where I served as Knight-Captain of the Templars. During the mage uprising, in fact, I witnessed firsthand the devastation.”

“Makers breath, you’re a templar!?” She yelps. He's a templar? No one mentioned this. She never willingly stands this close to a templar. Evelyn avoids templars giving them a wide berth...out of Smite range.

“Was. Was a templar. When Cassandra offered me a position I left the templars to join the cause. Is that a problem?” The Commander clarifies.

“I don’t know. Do you have a problem with a mage turned apostate turned Herald of Andraste and ultimately may be hung by the Chantry?” Evelyn's heart beats a little too quickly. Shit, he's angry. Don’t be an idiot.

“If you asked me a few years ago… Of course not. Do you have an issue with templars?” He asks sharply.

“Yes!” She says before thinking then answers in an unsure rambling manner. "A few outright hate me. I mean, been a rough few years between mages and templars. Sure there’s something we have in common. Can't think of anything yet. The Circle. If you want to call that common ground.”

“Well, good,” His anger fades, “Cassandra sought a solution to the chaos. Now it seems we face far worse.”

“Oh, you mean the Breach? Dandy. I'm full of good answers." This is going poorly, she thinks. Quit acting strange or at least not stupid. Get back on topic. "I must have this Mark for a reason.”

“The Mark needs more power to close the Breach. I'm confident we can secure aid. The Chantry lost control of both templars and mages.” He's animated, suddenly passionate in his response. “They argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains. The Inquisition could act where the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that. There’s so much I can do…" He stops, catching himself. “You probably didn’t come here for a lecture.”

Stop staring at him, Evelyn. Blink and breathe. He’s a templar, act interested, nonchalant and charming. “No, but if you have one prepared I would be glad to hear it.”

She wants to smack herself on the forehead. How ridiculous did that sound? He'll Smite you. She forces a mage-is-no-threat-to-you-oh-scary-templar smile. It's a stupid smile. She should run.

The Commander chuckles and smiles back. “Another time perhaps.”

She is a complete idiot. The Commander looks uncomfortable. She needs to make a hasty get-away. He hesitates like he lost his chain of thought then decides nothing more need be said and returns to work.

Just great, look what you've done. Rules, you dumb wit, rules. Templars are smarter than you even if they aren't. Move before someone notices you standing like a clod. She composes herself then realizes she forgot something. Bugger, what was she supposed to ask him?

The Hinderlands
Evelyn's lack of skill on the battlefield and that no one seemed to notice nearly leads to disaster.

In route to Mother Giselle, Evelyn, Cassandra, Solas and Varric walk into a group of templars and apostates trying to kill each other. Neither group cares about the Inquisition. Everyone tries to kill everyone else.

A crazed apostate knocks Evelyn down then sets her clothes afire. If she lives she'll have words with Cassandra. Solas hurls the offending apostate across the field. He douses Evelyn with an ice spell to put out the fire. He stays by her side until they arrive in the village in one piece. To their relief, Mother Giselle is safe tending the wounded.

A calm and pleasant Mother Giselle greets Evelyn. She confirms the Chantry’s split opinion over the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste. She suggests capitalizing on the split by pushing a few opinions to “maybe the Inquisition isn’t so bad.” She agrees to go to Haven to advise the Inquisition.

It's late when Cassandra gets them to camp. Cassandra notices that Evelyn, although calm and friendly with Mother Giselle, steams with anger all the way to the camp.

Evelyn confronts Cassandra when they arrive. “Are you trying to get me killed? You said we were here to TALK to Mother Giselle, not FIGHT! Talking is not fighting. Templars and mages attacked me with swords and magic! Had someone warned me about the killing I'd worn armor or something. This jacket keeps me warm, or did until a mage set it afire, it’s not made of Silverite! If the Herald of Andraste is so important why toss me into the middle of a battlefield? Told everyone and their mabari I'm not a battlemage. Didn't you notice? I don't own a staff! Found this broken one on a dead mage!”

Evelyn's finely lost it. She walks straight for her tent and disappears. Her tent remains quiet until she hears steps outside.

“It’s Solas, may I speak with you?”

She gives no answer.

“Are you okay, Herald?” He asks.

“No audience to anyone who doesn’t know my name. Elf.” Yep, she isn't pulling punches.

“Evelyn.” He says gently. He hears a heavy sigh from inside the tent.

“I apologize, Solas. Forgive me for calling you elf. Horrid of me. I’m just upset.”

Solas steps inside the tent. She's under a blanket, mostly, except for her boots. He didn't expect her. A human picking up the anchor. A human entering the Fade physically.

“Grateful I wasn't call knife eared.”

“Would never. You know Segret, the merchant in Haven, right? Said that to a young woman while I was standing right there! I almost punched him in the mouth. At least I feel badly about being rude and mean. People who are asses really tick me off. Sorry.”

"You're under a blanket.” He states.

“Is that rhetorical or inquiry?" She asks Solas. He's smarter than people realize. Most people either ignore him or treat him poorly. He has a sophistication above most folk and tolerates any ill treatment.

“Why is a blanket pulled over your head?” He clarifies.

“I was rude and purposely mean. Justifies suffocation. And it's peaceful under here. No privacy in the Circle when one lives in a dormitory with fourteen other mages. For a bonus, no room under here for a demon. I'm...things are just crazy, really weird shit’s happening. The world is coming to an end and I should be grateful the Inquisition wants me. I’m trying to adjust. Not handling it so well.” She pushes the blanket aside and sits up. “I apologize. You're here for a reason, not to hear me complain. What can I do for you, Solas?”

“Actually, I came here to do you a…I came to offer help.”

She notes that he almost said 'a favor'. He's careful with words. That's interesting, “Oh?”

He hands her the staff off his back, “This is a Magister Stave, cold elemental damage. I think the cold suits you.” He says the last pointedly.

“Was that a pun?” A smile emerges where previously there was none.

“I don’t pun.”

“It’s my first smile today, Solas. Please don’t take that from me.”

“Fine. Pun.”

To her great joy, he gives her a nod and an impossible smile. “If you would allow, I'll spend some time with you reviewing battle magic. I believe your Mark will assist in channeling magic. It may prove an advantage on the field.”

Hum, she thinks, the Mark could assist her with magic? Interesting. She accepts the staff and looks it over. Not a practice staff like in the Circle. Her first real staff. If the world wasn't in a dire situation, a staff essential to her survival she might just call it a gift and be happy. But it isn't, was it?

“Your knowledge of magic and the Fade beats anyone I've ever met.”

“My knowledge is far beyond what any circle mage knows. Elves don’t share magic secrets with shem.”

Solas watches her, observes, waits for the reaction. Has he drawn her attention? Is she watching him? Some in the Inquisition, Leliana especially, see her as naïve, temperamental, emotional. She was dropped in the middle of a maelstrom so yes, a bit of trouble adjusting after years in the Circle. Hadn't they noticed that she pays attention. Shows a clarity of reason. Sees things other people miss. She is clever. All that hidden behind her strange humor. He concludes he needs to be careful around her.

“Solas, you sassed me.” She smiles again.

“Would never sass such a delicate flower as yourself.” He offers another smile.

“Good one! A delicate flower. Which I am not. Sarcasm points! Made my day, Solas. Thank you. How about at first light?”

In the morning, Solas takes her in hand teaching her battle level fire, ice and lightening spells. The magic power is there, she simply had no practice or opportunity. No doubt the Circles intentionally keeps mages from realizing their potential. He sends her off to practice on various wildlife that wander near the camp. By the of full day she has a stockpile of ram meat and furs.

Evelyn speaks to Captain Whittle overseeing the Crossroad's refugee camp. Whittle hands her of list of desperately needed items for the refugees. Half the list is marked complete from her morning’s practice. Three days later, the list complete, they return to Haven.

Field Report from The Hinderlands
We witnessed wide spread fighting between mages and templars. The Crossroad’s refugee camp was overrun when we arrived. We cleared the area and restored order. Support troops remain to protect refugees and provide services.

The Herald spoke with Mother Giselle at length. You have her report. Mother Gisselle will join us in Haven as an adviser.

About The Herald of Andraste
I'm at fault for not noticing the Herald's poor fighting skills. In retrospect, I never saw her fight a demon or spirit in the ruins. Her staff is inadequate, the same with her armor.

Solas gave her his spare staff. I found her better armor (off a dead apostate but I didn’t tell her that). Solas instructed her in battle magic then sent her to practice on local wildlife. Our Herald has a knack for ice magic. Inquisition forces and refugees received the excess meat and hides from her “practice”.

We learned never to stand between the Herald and a ram. One ram feeds a refugee family for a week and there are a lot of hungry people in the Hinderlands. The Herald is determined to feed them all.

Do not believe Evelyn if she says she can’t, do, help, speak, negotiate, or accomplish something. She complains she's the wrong person but she isn’t.

To my surprise, she's a natural with people. On the first day she recruited six new agents. Her power over the Rifts impressed a mage cult waiting in the hills for the Maker's return. Thirty recruited mages carry news of the Inquisition’s good deeds.

She procured horses from Master Dennet and charmed him personally into joining the inquisition as Stable Master.

She's passionate about helping people. As the Herald of Andraste it serves us well.

She sealed six Fade Rifts, and with her team fighting beside her, defeated all emerging demons. She suffered no injuries the rest of the trip. Her fighting skills improved but I shall provide her additional training.

Despite my concerns about her smart mouth, she is kind and appropriate. When she is busy helping people and solving problems she quits worrying about personal issues. Point her in a direction and she gets things done.
Cassandra
Copies to Josephine, Cullen, Leliana

Fight Training
Evelyn drags her feet behind Cassandra, “Is this necessary? Solas is teaching me battle magic."

Cassandra stops in the training yard. “Learning sword fighting makes you better, both offensively and defensively against soldiers fighting with swords. If you prefer Commander Rutherford can teach you.”

Evelyn’s eyes widen, “Wait, wait! I'm not complaining. No reason to send me to the templar.”

“You have a problem with the Commander?” Cassandra asks.

She looks at her feet and kicks the dirt around, “Well, I trust templars as far as I can spit and I spit poorly. So…don’t trust.”

“And Seekers? Do you have an issue with Seekers?” Cassandra asks.

“Cassandra, when is the last time you patrolled a Circle hall?”

“I've never patrolled a Circle hall. I’ve visited several Circles. What’s your point?”

“All the mages smile and greet you politely?”

“Mages are always polite.” Cassandra says.

“We're instructed how to behave around guests: be polite and return to your room. The Circle provides mages with everything: room, board, clothes, and education. The Chantry makes the rules. Rules where we can go. Rules how to behave. Rules don’t sound so bad: Stay in the Circle. Be polite to guests. The Chantry makes the rules but it is the templars who enforce them. Do something wrong and it’s a templar who punishes. The Chantry calls it keeping order, templars call it punishment, mages call it abuse. I respond to a templar with equal parts contempt and fear.”

“Then lucky you. It's decided I'm your handler. You have a problem, you come to me. We'll skip today's lesson as Josephine needs to see you.” Cassandra said.

.

Josephine meet Evelyn again to explain more about her job handling political and social situations. "As ambassador, I build the Inquisitions reputation and forge beneficial alliances."

Josephine comes to the point, “I want to contact the Trevelyan family. As an important Free Marches family, they'd be good allies. What do you think?”

“Ah, well. No doubt, my family loves important people, or those who may become important. They’ll be receptive, up to the point they discover I'm this Herald of Andraste. They'll request a good spot at my execution but again, they may have other plans that day. The heretical Herald of Andraste, oh, that's going in the family album.”

Family isn't a good topic. Her parent's loathing when they discovered she had magic was incomprehensible greatly contributing to her difficulty adjusting to the Circle. She never saw or heard from any of them again...even at the Conclave.

“To be serious, Josephine, if you correspond with them, please ask about my brothers. The Trevelyans are connected with the Ostwick Chantry and I suspect one or both was at the Conclave. It would be nice to know, one way or another.”

Josephine promises to inquire about her brothers.

Chapter Text

Val Royeaux Chantry
Mother Gisselle sent the Inquisition to meet Chantry mothers in Val Royeaux. As expected, the Chantry didn't greet Evelyn or the Inquisition with open arms. In front of a large crowd, the Revered Mother Hevara declares Evelyn is Divine Justina's murderer, and the Inquisition heretics for promoting a false prophet.

Evelyn turns to Cassandra, “Should I hug her for pointing out I am not the Herald of Andraste or run because my execution platform is already set up?”

“The Chantry must see reason.” Cassandra says.

Evelyn speaks to the Revered Mother and the crowd, “The only thing the Inquisition proclaims is there is a giant hole in the sky and we need to work together to fix it!”

“It’s too late! The templars return to save us.” The Revered Mother points triumphant to the approaching group of templars. Her confident smile vanishes when a templar slugs her in the face and she crumbles to the ground.

Lord Seeker Lucius and the templars take over the stage, arrogantly glaring at the crowd.

Evelyn tries to contain her anger. Circle Survival Rules: Never provoke a templar, or in this case, templars. Change tactics. No need to shed blood when words spill just as well.

“Lord Seeker, are you here to beat up Chantry Mothers or is there a sale at Frock and Armor?”

The Lord Seeker Lucius is unimpressed, “I came here to laugh and to see what frightens old women.”

“Don’t Smite me but I'm pretty sure we're all having bad templar dreams tonight.” Evelyn dishes back.

The Lord Seeker looks briefly at her then glares at the crowd, “You are nothing. The templars deserve respect. We are now independent of the Chantry. We march.” The templars leave the square abandoning the Chantry once again, traveling to an unknown destination.

“Why do you say these things? It doesn’t help.” Cassandra scolds.

Evelyn shrugs “Things went belly up when the templar slugged the Revered Mother. No going back to ‘let’s all hold hands and work together’ after that stunt. What I said changed nothing, good or bad.”

“Something is wrong with the Lord Seeker,” Cassandra observes.

“I don't know about Seekers but Templars are always one philter away from lyrium rage.”

Nothing more to do but deal with the aftermath. Evelyn approaches the Revered Mother still lying on the ground.

“Are you alright? Do you need a healing potion?”

The Mother glares, “What do you care?”

“I care when a templar slugs an unarmed person. Usually it's a mage on the other end of a templar’s fist so I’m especially alarmed it's a Chantry Mother. Even if you want me to hang, I can't ignore someone injured. I'm just that way.”

“Let me ask you, do you think you are the Herald of Andraste?" Hevara asks.

“People call me that but personally I can’t say I am the Herald. I just don’t know.”

Her answer surprises Hevara. “That is more comforting than I thought.”

Evelyn notices Cassandra frowning at them both. Cassandra firmly believes Evelyn was sent by Andraste.

Everyone thinks the trip to Val Royeaux a disaster. Evelyn decides the trip to Val Royeaux went as well as expected. The trip brought her two new companions. The first is a very talented rogue, Sera from the mysterious Red Jenny group. Evelyn likes Sera's 'stick it to the nobles and fight for the little people' attitude from the start.

The second volunteer is Madame Vivienne de Fer, official enchanter to the Imperial court. Evelyn decides she is like a nug burger: it's an acquired taste. In Evelyn's honor, and without notice the Inquisition, Vivienne throws a reception in honor of the Herald. Evelyn shows up to the soiree in her field gear, and embarrassingly dirty. Not five feet into the door a horrible little noble challenges her to a duel. Vivienne intervenes offering Evelyn rights to kill the noble. Evelyn said no.

The whole event smacked of an ambush by someone playing the Game. Vivienne’s kindness is manipulation spread like butter on bread. Never understate that she plays to the death. Evelyn's exit opinion is Vivienne's not to be admired. She is to be feared. But, despite her rich surroundings, Vivienne is an apostate just like her.

“Val Royeaux went as well as expected." Leliana informs the War Council. "Our relationship with the Chantry remains broken. We learned more about the templar situation.”

“Mother Giselle didn't expect us to sway the whole Chantry, but opinions shifted in our direction. The Revered Mother didn’t endorse us but she admires the Herald's humility." Cassandra says. "She's no longer a 'no', she is a 'maybe'.

“Humility? A mage?” Cullen can't give Evelyn the benefit of a doubt due to beliefs ingrained from past experiences. He'd seen the worse of mages, an issue not easily overcome.

“The Revered Mother asked Evelyn if she was the Herald of Andraste. Evelyn said she truly didn’t know. The Revered Mother found comfort in her honesty. I call that humility. Word is getting around and the Inquisition’s reputation improved. We need that to approach either the rebel mages or the templars.” Josephine said.

“One of the two groups we need to supplement power to the Anchor. Send her back to the Hinterlands to gain more influence and find more agents.” Leliana says.

“You're sure she'll accomplish our goals in the Hinderlands?” Cullen asks Cassandra.

Cassandra responds confidently, “Despite her smart mouth, she is the right woman. She cannot walk past a person in need without helping. She wants to make things better. Point her in a direction and she gets things done.”

What are you saying? Cassandra," Leliana asks unconvinced, "This naïve, temperamental mage is a gem in the rough?”

“I believe so. Under the emotional damage and asinine, tactless, sarcastic front, she is an intelligent, sensitive, kind, and polite woman. She was raised by a noble family and it shows when she deals with people of authority and position. She's unafraid of bullies. She listens to people others ignore. She gets involved rather than see someone suffer. This is what I saw in the Hinderlands and Val Royeaux.”

“This isn't the Evelyn we see around here.” Cullen says. Leliana nods in agreement.

“I can explain that. We brought her here a prisoner, shackled and chained. We threatened her. Her life in our hands. She responded like a trapped animal. We asked her to stay because of the Anchor, not because of her. It's hardly a vote of confidence. There is no nowhere for her to go, not the Circle, not her family. Give her purpose, give her meaning and she’ll prove herself.”

"We are unsure what caused the Breach in the first place." Josephine points out. “If we close the Breach…if she closes the breach…will she stay? We better hope she stays."

Leliana's reservations unmoved, more than Cullen. "She's a wild card. Dumb luck."

“Providence. She's what we needed exactly when we needed it. We cannot afford to lose her. I believe if she builds relationships and finds purpose, she'll stay and serve. Time will tell,” Cassandra says.

The Iron Lady
Vivienne peaks her head around her little nook in the Chantry, gleaming her eyes at Evelyn, “Herald, may I have a moment of your time?”

Evelyn stops, “Of course.”

“You're from the Circle of Magi in Ostwick, did you know Senior Enchanter Lydia? She is a friend of mine.”

“Of course I knew her, we all knew her.”

“She is a dear, don’t you think?”

“Was. Lydia was killed when the Circle fell. Not by me, of course.” Senior Enchanter Lydia's death is well known. Vivienne would know so why play dumb? Odd start to a conversation thinks Evelyn. So... This is not a casual chat. Is she gathering information, background? Best to deflect.

“You are known as the Herald of Andraste. Many believe you are the agent of her will. Whatever the truth, that belief gives you power. I wonder what you would do with such influence...as a mage?” Vivienne asks.

Again the line of conversation was unsettling. She said she is here to help but does she have a hidden agenda? A self serving agenda?

“Well, I'm concerned about mages in these dangerous and uncertain times."

“Of course, you are my dear. You are a mage.”

Hum. Evelyn thinks, let's try something more direct. Appeal to her pride.

“You are fortunate as Empress Celene's official Court Enchanter to feel the pulse of Thedas. You joined the Inquisition to help. I would be remiss if I didn’t listen to your advice.”

“As mages we know that magic is dangerous, just as fire is dangerous. Anyone who forgets this truth gets burned. Andraste said magic should serve man not rule over him. Look at your anchor, my dear. Powerful magic. A weapon wielded by a mage. You see why mages need oversight. Of course you agree."

Evelyn thinks she may gag. “You support Circles. Circles to contain magic and mages.”

“Circles protect mages.” Vivienne states.

“History almost agrees. Before the Chantry Circles were an open and safe place for mages to gather. Then came the Nevarran Accord. Things changed. Circles would keep mages safe from hostile and frightened people. How? By locking mages safely up. Templars holding the key.”

“Yet, to keep everyone safe the Circles must be restored, yes?"

“Sorry to cut this short but I leave for the Hinderlands at first light.”

“It’s a pleasure speaking with you.”

“Good day, Vivienne.” The whole conversation unsettles Evelyn. Vivienne wants to restore the Circles but what about reform? How could a mage want to restore the Circles? The Circle are not a closed society for mages. Circles are a prison.

A Harrowing Story
The second trip to the Hinderlands is declared a success. Leliana sent Evelyn to track down a Grey Warden seen in the area. Blackwall, turns out, recruits for the Wardens, but is unaware all the Grey Wardens have disappeared. Blackwall pledges his sword to the Inquisition much to Evelyn’s pleasure. Blackwall is an exceptional front line fighter and she feels safe fighting by his side.

Josephine walks into the training field where Cassandra and Evelyn practice, “Herald, if you have a moment.” Josephine points to a nearby bench.

“Please, please, call me Evelyn,” she says while brushing off dust, “What can I do for you, Ambassador?”

“I have a letter from your parents.” Josephine holds out an folded paper.

The content expected but seeing it written out is a kick in the gut. Her parents hate and disown her for being a mage. They want nothing to do with her. Old news to Evelyn. Entirely new? Her parents blame her for their sons death. Her eldest brother, Earnest, heir to the Trevelyan fortune attended as liaison to the Ostwick Chantry, accompanied by her brother, Edward. Both died at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Devastating. Heart stomping. Her fault.

She wiped out the entire Trevelyan line leaving her parents a hated daughter and a mage who could inherit nothing. Even if she gave birth, the Chantry claims all babies born to Circle mages.

All hope of a reconciliation dies with her brothers. She's lost. She has nowhere to go but the Circle.

Josephine regrets the Trevelyan family's response. “Herald…I mean Evelyn, if there is anything I can do, please ask.”

“Thank you for calling me Evelyn." She struggles to remain polite, "Calling me the Herald helps my father's assassins identify me quicker.”

Josephine’s eyes widen. “You don’t think he... Oh, you jest.”

“I’ve killed his heir and heir in waiting. My father’s lineage ends with me. He’d be mad enough to send assassins.”

Temperamental nobles Josephine handles with ease but Evelyn seems volatile like a waking volcano. She's joking but the pain hovers just below the surface. “Dear Maker, do you want to talk about this?”

“What more can I say that I haven’t already screamed, cried, joked and discussed with everyone and their mabari. All I am is a cursed mage and an apostate.”

“You've done remarkable things in the short time you’ve been with us. We're lucky to have you.”

“Sorry, I missed that last bit. I'm listening for those assassins."

Evelyn reins herself back. She never intends to be mean, "Sorry, Josephine, I was rude. Thank you. You are very kind. I appreciate your efforts. Maybe hold onto that letter and I’ll look at it later, two years or so from now, or use it for kindling. Again, thank you. If you'll excuse me...”

Evelyn heads to the tavern.

It's past the dinner hour. Missed lunch. Doesn't matter, an ale calls her name. The busy tavern looks inviting.

She picks up two ales from Flissa, the tavern owner. They chat as she drinks her first ale. She looks around for a place to sit and finds an empty spot at a nearby table. The Commander's recruits greet her warmly. As she sits, the lad next to her points at her hand, “You're the Herald?”

“Don’t know if I am the famed Herald, but I am Evelyn with a green glowing hand.” The table laughs with approval. Evelyn thinks if they can laugh at that they are several mugs ahead of her. Time to catch up. Going to be a great night.

“And you’re a mage?” asks a young woman.

She nods as she finishes her second ale. Across the table a young man slides over a complimentary third ale.

The conversation continues prompted by another patron, “So you had a Harrowing? And survived? What was that like?”

“The Harrowing? This is a topic.” Talking about the Harrowing can land a mage in trouble so is it the ale or her anger talking? She can't help herself.

“The Chantry's fairy tale version is four templars escort an apprentice to a large empty chamber at the top of the Circle Tower. The mage inhales from a chalice filled with lyrium that propels their consciousness into the Fade. As they pass out the templars gently lower the unconscious mage to the floor. The templars wait vigilantly while the brave mage travels through the Fade until a monstrous demon tries to possess them. If the mage can fight off the demon they will wake up in the Harrowing chamber surrounded by the four templars who clap with joy for the heroic mage. A successful Harrowing.

“Wow, huh? That’s the Chantry’s version. Here's what really happens.

“Four templars forcefully drag an apprentice to the Harrowing Chamber. The frighten mage knows if they fail their Harrowing they'll die at the top of the Circle Tower. At the point of a sword, templars force the mage inhale lyrium. If the mage refuses the templars make them tranquil on the spot.

“You see, a mage has one of three choices: Harrowing, Tranquility or Death -- there are no other options. The mage decides they don’t want to be tranquil, they'll take their chances against a demon. They drink the lyrium.

“The mage goes into shock and crumples to the floor, but not before they see all four templars pull their swords and point the sharp end at their heart. If the mage becomes possessed or takes too long in the Fade templars pierce the mage’s heart. As four templars point swords at their heart, the mage's mind is dumped into the Fade.

“The mage is terrified which is both good and bad. Bad because a terrified mage attracts demons like bees to a flower, and good because the mage doesn’t have to searach for a demon. When a monstrous demon shows, the mage must battle the demon, physically or through trickery, to keep the demon from possessing them.

“A mage who can resist the demon and not get possessed wakes up on the floor of the Harrowing Chamber. The four templars still pointing swords at the mage’s heart grumble because they don’t get to kill a mage that day.”

Patrons sits stunned but fascinated by the story. Someone asks, “Can templars just kill the mage?”

Evelyn happily explains, “The Chantry says a mage who returns from the Fade sane aren’t possessed. And, according to the Chantry a mage who passes their Harrowing can never be made tranquil, ever. Those are the rules. This disappoints templars who have to hold the pointy end of the sword at a mage’s heart the whole time the mage is in the Fade. Templars debate if they should go ahead and kill the mage anyway, just in case. After all, templars deal with mages all the time, they know better than the Chantry.”

The whole table is enraptured. Other nearby tables are listening. A soldier asks, “Maker’s breath. Is that what happen to you? You saw and killed a demon?”

“No, during my Harrowing when I was in the Fade, my brother walked up to me acting all nice and friendly. What mage is stupid enough to believe their brother would show up in the Fade for a conversation? My demon was a particular level of stupid to think I'd fall for that because my big brother and I never got along.

“So I punched him in the face. My demon is all like ‘how could you hit your brother?’ So I hit him again and said 'just like that.' Stupid demon. Busted him in the nose twice and he forgets to bleed like a human. I said go bother some other mage before I hit you again. My demon is disappointed not to possess a mage that day but he did leave.

“I woke up to four swords pointing at my chest. I didn’t wait for the debate if I was possessed or not, I said ’Do I at least get dinner before you start poking me with that?’ One of the templars jerked me up from the floor and slapped me. But hey, I passed, sore cheek and all and didn’t’ get stabbed. Good Harrowing.”

It's deep in the night. Instead of sleeping Cullen answers an urgent message from the tavern. Imagining things from a fight to drunken behavior, Cullen dresses and walks to the Tavern.

The tavern owner, Flissa, waves Cullen over as he enters. “So glad you're here, the Herald was here earlier…um, telling strange stories.”

“What kind of strange stories?” The Commander puzzles why he is called as Cassandra is the Herald’s official handler.

“She told everyone about her Harrowing. A templar overheard and asked me to send for you. The Herald left about ten minutes ago.”

Cullen steams. The Harrowing is a sacred rite, the details kept secret. Mages and templars alike instructed never to speak of it with anyone. It is not a topic for a tavern discussion. Makes sense the Templar reported her.

He isn't quite sure what to think of Evelyn. She is a contradiction. As the Herald of Andraste she should inspire him but she is a mage. She has no fighting skills yet seems willing to put herself in harm's way. Then again, she is irritating, contrary. This tavern incident incredibly disrespectful.

The Commander leaves the tavern and walks to her cabin. He knocks gently. “Herald, are you okay?”

“Sorry, no Herald here,” a voice replies, “Try the next cabin.”

“It’s Commander Rutherford. May I come in? If you are decent.”

“Still no Herald.”

He's annoyed but she dislikes being called the Herald so he obliges her. “Evelyn.”

“This is Evelyn's cabin. There's a crowd of people in here so you better behave,” she says.

“What? There are…?”

Evelyn snaps back, “Just open the door.”

Inside he finds her alone wrapped up in a blanket sitting on her bed. She doesn't look up.

He asks, “Do you know how late it is?”

“Do you know how late it is?” She snaps back.

He replies irritated, “I know how late it is.”

“I know how late it is.” She matches tone, rhythm and intent.

He asks more irritated, “Are you drunk?”

“Are you drunk?”

Frustrated but trying to be the adult, he asks, “Why are you being so difficult?”

“Because,” she snaps, “it’s the dead of night and I'm wondering why you're in my cabin asking the obvious.”

The situation feels hopeless and he can't remember his reason for being there. Right, to ask why she talked about the Harrowing, “I was…never mind. If you are alright I'll leave. We'll speak in the morning. Good night, Herald.”

Not missing a beat, she bites back bitterly. “Not your Herald. You’ll find your blessed Herald in the Chantry along with the Maker, his beloved Bride Andraste, and all the faithful followers. I’m. Just. Evelyn.”

“I am not trying….” He tries stopping himself. He knows better than argue,

“You’re a good Chantry boy devoted to the Maker, in love with his mythical Templar Order. Without this damn Mark and my new Herald of Andraste title no one would have anything to do with me, including you because all I am is a filthy apostate.

“As soon as this Mark closes the breach everyone will be done with me. My family disowned me and there isn’t a Circle to send me to. I’ll be tossed to the road. I’m sure another bunch of rogue templars will finish tearing me up. Have you ever seen my back? It's a statement of who I am in this world.”

Before he objects, she stands up with her back to him and drops the blanket off her shoulders. She stands there, her whole back exposed, and he can't look away from the scars covering her back. Too many scars. Too many scars for one small back. Maker.

“Templars, you see, gave me these so I'd never forget who I am. Every time I dress, every time I bathe I remember how the Chantry, templars and the people of Thedas, whom I'm supposed to save, feel about me because I’m a mage.”

His gut clenches. All those mages fallen under Knight Command Meredith and he looked the other way. Yes, he looked the other way because he believes mages less than human. He is no better than a gang of rogue templars with a whip. The clenching in his gut moves up to his chest. This emotional response...he can't remember feeling like this. He walks to Evelyn, pulls the blanket over her shoulders and wraps it around her.

“It’s late, Evelyn. Get some sleep.” He's grateful his voice betrays nothing, how overwhelmed he feels. Compassion, a feeling long lost to him, rises as if she bares the burden of every wronged mage. Maker help him that she's experienced such evil.

Miracle he can walk outside. He gently closes the door behind him. He leans against the door to catch his breath. He thinks he hears her say something but can't make it out. As he heads to his tent he knows he'll get no sleep this night.

On the other side of the door Evelyn hisses, “Maker, I'm such a jerk.”

Commander Rutherford requests an informal meeting in Josephine’s office with Cassandra and Leliana. They should hear what happened.

“There was a problem with the Herald… Evelyn,” he begins.

They can see he's disturbed. Cassandra raises an eyebrow, “Oh, what’s going on?”

“The tavern called last night, very late. Evelyn told a table full of people about her Harrowing. I went to check on her and she was….”

“Belligerent?” Liliana guesses.

Be easy to agree. After he left her cabin he spent the rest of the night fighting what he saw, and what he experienced as a Templar. Those years in the Circle hardened him. He struggles to see mages as people. The tavern story triggered old anger, but his heart shredded at the sight of her scarred back. Too many scars.

“She was…upset, hurting. She, um…showed me her back, rather dramatically. Have you seen her back?”

Cassandra affirms, “Leliana and I did after finding her at the Temple of Ashes. Newly healed. She claims rogue templars were responsible. The whipping was brutal even for...templar standards. Why did she show you? And why tell people about her Harrowing?”

“I think I know." Josephine says, "We received a letter from her family yesterday. Her estranged parents blamed her for both brothers dying at the Conclave. She joked about it but she was upset. Tried to hide it by being…”

“Sarcastic?" Liliana guesses correctly, and not surprised.

Josephine continues, "I should have told you, Cassandra. What should we do?”

“Mages don’t usually hide their suffering. They are vocal about grievances and she is no different. Her story is tragic compared to some but less than others. Life in a Circle isn’t easy for mages.”

Cullen snaps defensively, “You think templars are better off? I’ve had my share of horrors in the Circles and at the hand of mages.”

Cassandra quickly addresses him, “No one discounts what you went through or your choices. You’ve come a long way in coming to terms with your experiences. She is just now facing her trauma. She's important to the Inquisition so we must help her. Help her to see when she is being…difficult.”

Cullen shakes his head ashamed, “You're right. I’m…still sensitive…about mages.”

“Cullen," Cassandra suggests, "If you can gain her trust it may help her deal with her templar issues. Give you an opportunity to help a mage. You could help with her her fight skills.”

Cullen’s feelings simmers. Cassandra talked about his personal issues in the middle of a meeting. She knows his secrets, they speak privately about his past, there's an agreement. On the other hand, she said nothing specific, she didn’t reveal his lyrium situation. To other people he appears in control, but these issues slithered around his mind like a snake.

"Alright. I'll work with her. Swords and shield." Immediately he starts strategizing ways to master himself, to gain control of his emotions, and a way to deal with the Herald and the memory of her scars.

Cassandra nods, “Good luck.”

Change of heart. The Commander decides this is a bad idea. He steams over the Harrowing incident in the tavern but her back haunts him, both fresh in his mind. She is the Herald of Andraste, they need her Mark, but she is a mage. It helped hearing Josephine’s explanation of why all that was triggered. She is important. He could do this. He'd be fine.

Cullen hands her a practice sword, “Let’s see what Cassandra taught you.”

“Does it have to be sword training? A mage doesn't need sword training. Teach me how to cook. No one wants me to cook on the road. See, that would be much more helpful." Evelyn grumbles that a templar is taking over her training. A templar. She planned to avoided this particular templar for the rest of her life. The incident over the tavern story...not that she remembers much of what happened but she may have exposed her back to him. Ugh. Not just any templar...this templar.

She stands in front of him but didn't lift her practice sword. "If you want to be helpful there's something else besides sword n' shields I could use help with." She pulls her sword and stands her ground. "How's this stance?"

What is this request she is talking about? Is this another attempt to distract him. She uses humor like a fighter parries a sword, deflect and strike. His attention returns to the training. "Yes. Cassandra's done well with you."

“Now you’re just being nice.” She replies. "Are you Commander of the Inquisition forces or not? I am serious about asking for help."

She's playing him for a fool, he thinks. He wants to send the annoying mage into a corner for an hour. "Fine, what is it?" Cullen lowers his sword.

She remains sword in hand in a ready stance. "Seeing that the Inquisition expects me to kill people and things who want to kill me, and I've been locked up in the circle for fourteen years, a bit of tutoring on strategy would be helpful.

That's unusual...to ask about. "Military strategy?

"You do know something about military strategy?" She asks pointedly.

"Of course I do." He snaps a tad bit cross.

"The Circle taught me about demons and spirits' strengths and weaknesses, right. Iron Bull is the first Qunari I've ever seen with all that massive body and horns...and massive body. No idea how to kill a Qunari. Qunari must have a weakness, right? I mean until just recently I've never killed anything. Apparently killing is essential to wars. Better at hiding, yes. Hiding is much more my style."

“Yes, killing is essential to wars. Good observation. Now, shall we continue?" Had to give her credit. Can't fault her thinking. Strategy can make the difference between life and death. Considering what she faces outside Skyhold, inquiring about military strategy is smart.

"Ever been struck by Cassandra's Wrath of Heaven? Wolf. Mage or not that'll take you down." She sticks her sword into the ground. "Templars have Dispel and Smite to quickly stop a mage from casting, but a mage suddenly attacking with a sword could distract a templar long enough for a mage to get a spell off. Maybe a five second distraction, right?"

Clever girl, he thinks. She's right. Older templars love scaring recruits with stories about mages who use swords. Evelyn looked at it as a tactic. "How do you know this?"

"It makes sense. Doesn't it? What are templars afraid of? Really powerful mages. What could be more shocking: A powerful mage with a sword."

“Okay, I hear your request," Cullen responds. "We can go over military strategy.”

"Thank you. May come in useful when the Circles return. Come up with a strategy to get the bottom bunk and not the top bunk. No mage wants the top bunk. Am I right, Commander? Or is it the bottom bunk no one wants?."

Cullen's face turns red with embarrassment although he isn't sure why. She's joking with him. When is the last time anyone joked with him. “Go on. See you back here tomorrow.”

“Can’t.” She calls back, “Our team leaves for Therifold Redoubt tomorrow to talk with the Templars, remember?"

Chapter Text

Solas confirms the sky is scarred but the Breach is sealed. All the souls in Haven dance and celebrate the Inquisition's closing the Breach with templar assistance. The Inquisition templar partnership surpasses all expectations.

One person puzzles why Evelyn chose templar help to seal the Breach. She despises the Order, doesn't she? Cullen's curiosity pushes him to seek her out. He finds her standing by Cassandra watching celebrants dance by the fire.

Evelyn moves closer when Cullen extends an invitation to talk. “Commander, our friends celebrate the Inquisition's victory yet you look very serious.”

According to Sera, Commander Rutherford always looks serious and it isn't good for his health. But he isn't only one sitting back from the celebrations. The Herald looks as somber as he.

"I'm curious, Herald, you don’t hide your contempt for the Order and there seems no end to the wrongs they’ve committed. So, why recruit the templars?”

“Not contempt, Commander, mostly. I’ve good reason. This one time three templars tortured me...well, there was a Mage-Templar war so maybe it doesn’t count. Never mind, that still isn’t funny. I get it. Who knew not all templars are bad? It's entirely possible the Order doesn't turn all its people into monsters. Some good. Some not so good. Those men who hurt me would be bad even wearing silk party dresses. Humph, still not funny.”

“So you surround yourself with templars to cure your fear of templars?”

“Oh, no, that’s how I beat my fear of spiders. Some jerk poured a jar of spiders on me. While screaming my head off, I stomped those suckers to death. Spiders aren’t so tough." She pauses a moment and looks directly at him. "Honestly, Commander, I never met a templar like you. When it comes to the Order, you are a hopeful surprise."

Cullen's unsure how to respond. Is that a compliment? "Um, thank you?"

“Because of you I see templars a little different every day. Our troops trust you, look up to you. The mages here respect you. When I needed help you looked past my rude remarks and said ‘what can I do to help, Herald?’ I said my name is Evelyn and the Herald is in the next cabin but you helped me anyway.”

Cullen's puzzled. Did he help her that night after she told everyone about the Harrowing?

"After all this, when they return me to the Circle, I'd rather have templars like you there. I went to Therinfal looking for that type of templar."

“Therinfal was disturbing and enlightening. Then everything erupted. You know Knight Templar Barris? Good man, he's like you. Believes in the Andraste Herald thing but talks to me like I'm a regular person. The uncorrupted templars were leaderless and Barris stepped up and pulled them together. None of his templars looked at me twice or questioned why a mage represented the Inquisition. No one tried to Smite me or Silence me, and you know I do run on.”

Cullen blushes. He manages a small smile. She talks more than he ever would, he thinks. He hasn't many friends and he likes that she chats with him.

“Barris asked me to find the uncorrupted Lieutenants. My team is at the door ready to go, twenty or so templars standing behind me. One templar who I didn’t know said to me, 'Don’t you worry, Herald, we’ll hold the hall until you get back. You can count on us.'”

“Wait." Cullen can't help himself. "He called you Herald and you didn’t make a sarcastic remark?”

She's not letting Cullen get away with that, “I was distracted by your blood on my shoes.”

“My blood? This wasn’t in your report.”

“Details, details. Details gets you a book not a brief report. As mentioned, an envy demon sent me into a Fade dream. He wanted to see my reaction as he cut your throat. When he slit your throat you bled on my shoes. Ugh, not funny now or probably ever, but, if it’s a comfort, I fried that sucker demon to death. If I avoided you the last couple of days, I was trying to erase the image of you bleeding out at my feet. Why do I run on so?”

“Because you’re nervous?” Cullen guesses.

“So when I’m nervous I talk and when you’re nervous you can’t talk.”

“Um, I think so, yes. Let me apologize for bleeding on your shoes, Herald.”

“Ugh, that was on purpose!” She says smiling.

“Yes, on purpose, Evelyn.” Cullen also smiles.

A rapid ringing of the bell catches everyone attention. A frantic soldier runs across the yard to Cullen. After a brief exchange Cullen yells, “To arms! We are under attack.”

Evelyn follows Cullen to the gate, “What’s going on?”

Cullen points to the mountain pass, “A large force approaches, the bulk still behind the mountain.”

“Commander, give me a plan, tell me what to do.”

Cullen stares at Evelyn’s unwavering commitment. A few months ago he questioned her willingness to help the Inquisition. But now... “If we are to survive we must control the battle. Get to the trebuchets. Hit that pass. Snow will slow those monsters down.”

"On my way,” she replies without a second thought. Calling to Iron Bull, Blackwall and Sera they run out the gate to the defenses.

Outside the gate, Evelyn and her team meet the enemy. Most wear Venatori armor of a Tevinter cultist group. Mages conscripted by the Venatori Magister Alexius fight alongside Red Templars. Red Templars. Could there be worse templars? Yes. Worse templars. Combined, the Inquisition faces a powerful force. But who is their leader?

Enemy soldiers hit Evelyn and her team at the first trebuchet. The Iron Bull and Blackwall hold back attackers while Evelyn and Sera pick off range supporters. As soon as Blackwall and the Iron Bull finish the last Venatori, Evelyn launches the trebuchet. Enemy forces are slowed. Evelyn’s group runs for the other trebuchet just as enemy reinforcements swarm their position.

At the second trebuchet Evelyn calibrates the shot. Her people hold attackers until she releases the payload. A massive avalanche kills most of the advancing forces. Haven has the advantage.

Too soon her group declares victory. A dragon approaches with a terrible scream, fire streaming across the field. Evelyn shouts the retreat and they run for the front gate.

Cullen holds the gate open for Evelyn’s scrambling team. Everyone runs into the Chantry, the only stone building in Haven.

“We lost everything we achieved." Cullen informs her. "We cannot win against a dragon, Herald. We're losing the battle. At this point, we can only choose how we die.”

Evelyn's world stands still. Around her people huddle in the Chantry frighten, injured, helpless. Some cry as others die. No, she won't let them die, not if she has the power to save them.

Chancellor Roderick interrupts to reveal a possible escape route out of Haven.

“Commander, can this work? Can you get everyone out?” She asks.

“Provided we can distract the dragon. I’ll have my men load one more trebuchet. Haven will be buried in the avalanche but we'll have a chance to escape. Someone must stay behind and let it off.”

“I will. I'll distract the dragon, give everyone time to get out.”

“You can’t, you’ll be buried with Haven! I cannot allow this. I'll stay." The Commander says solidly.

“Commander, listen to me." She steps closer, speaks quietly, "Good people died here today. I can offer no less than them. You said it, today we choose how we die. I choose that these people live. You will save these people. I'll buy you time to escape. The breach is closed, my job is done. No matter what I want, my only future is the Circle."

"What do you want if not the Circle?" Chaos surrounds them so why ask?

"Ask someone sincerely what they truly want and you'll hear what they cannot have. I want a quiet life. Cabin, garden, adoring husband, chickens... See, I'm a mage so that's impossible. I accept that. You have a future and a purpose. Promise me you’ll get everyone to safety. Everyone. When you reach the pass signal me. I'll release the trebuchet.”

He feels chilled to the bone. This is wrong. If there is a better way...but there isn't. “Herald, maybe you’ll find a way…”

“Evelyn," She corrects him. "My name is Evelyn. I've a job to do and so do you. Let's go.”

“Everyone, go! To the back exit. Hurry.” He watches as she steps through the door into smoke and fire, the light frames her silhouette as she disappears in the night.

At that moment, he knows her worth, as a person, and a mage. He was wrong all these years, about mages, about her. Anger and prejudice blinded him.

The Herald’s chance of success is insurmountable: Launch the trebuchet, maybe, but survive an avalanche, no. An anger grows in his belly. He's failed again. Haven is falling and the Herald sacrifices herself to save them. He's the Commander, it is his job. He joined the Inquisition to prove himself, to pay for his failures. But he is not walking out that door. A mage offers her life, dying for their cause. A mage. He tries to breathe. Compose yourself, Cullen. Make this right, save everyone. Don't fail her sacrifice.

Cullen quickly directs soldiers to carry any supplies they can find: food, bedding, essentials. Escape through the hidden pass has perils: Snow and cold slows escape, the wounded must be carried, they have no plan. Somehow, he must keep everyone alive until they reach a safe destination. If the Herald sacrifices her life then he'll save as many people as possible before drawing his last breath.

Standing at the top of the pass, Cullen watches more people escape than expected. As the last person walks by him, Cullen stops to look back. Flames cross every building lighting up Haven like day. He peers down to the trebuchet readied for the Herald. His heart stops. Even at this distance he sees the dragon near the trebuchet. Dear Maker, has she failed? Has the dragon killed her?

Cullen directs Sera to ready an arrow. He promised he'd signal, he won't break this promise.

“In case she is alive, right? We’re hoping.” Sera says as she draws her bow. Cullen lights the arrow.

The flaming arrow soars high overhead, a slip of light trailing through the sky. Cullen looks back one last time, “Yes, hoping. Andraste keep you.”

Concern the dragon may pursue, Cullen walks survivors through the night. Small fires are lit along the way so people may warm up for a few minutes before pushing forward. As the sun rises over the mountain, the pass from Haven is a mere speck in the distance. Cullen finds a place to rest and attend to the wounded.

The Maker grants him another chance so Cullen turns his service to the survivors. He assigns able body persons to organize supplies, pitch tents, prepare food and set up a makeshift infirmary. He failed in Haven, he allowed the Herald to sacrifice herself, but he will not surrender. He'll see survivors to safety. He pushes himself, not taking a break until everything finds its place.

Survivors settle in with food and shelter. With the luxury of time granted by the Herald's sacrifice, grief and fear spreads among the survivors. They face the loss of friends, homes, livelihoods. They live but what of the future, what of the danger, the dragon, and the hideous man they called the Elder One? What they witnessed, the Herald facing the Dragon, beyond belief. Her sacrifice gives survivors a chance for life. Night falls. Though they survive hope dwindles, they have no destination, no where to go.

Cullen looks back to the narrow passage. The Herald’s sacrifice gives everyone a chance to live. Evelyn, the reluctant Herald of Andraste, a mage, falls for them.

The Iron Bull, Blackwall, and Sera set up a small area near the end of the camp. Named Camp Hope, they watch the pass hoping she'll emerge. Hours later, Cullen finds himself sitting with the group. By nightfall, the group’s number grow to include Dorian, Cassandra and Knight-Captain Barris. Shifts are set so people can sleep while others watch through the night.

After night's peak the snow stops, the sky clears. Most of the camp sleeps, exhausted from the long walk. Unable to sleep, Cullen takes the second shift. He sits watching the pass. On his left, Blackwall sleeps against a crate, Sera draped over his shoulder.

Cullen hears it first: soft crunchy noises at the top of the snow drift. He stands looking toward the pass. He feels goose bumps behind his neck. Another crunchy sound draws eyes to a small silhouette that topples to the ground.

Is it Evelyn? Is he hallucinating? Cullen prays, “Maker, please.”

Cullen steps over Sera and runs to the figure laying in the snow. Blackwall and Sera wake to the commotion and follow. Cullen drops to his knees and turns the snow covered figure onto his lap. Cullen reveals the snow and ice covered face.

Cullen sees a miracle before him. Indeed, she is the Herald of Andraste. His faith is not misplaced.

“Maker’s balls, it's her. It's the Herald!” Blackwall's loud baritone voice booms across the camp.

Sera bounces like a deer in the snow, “Knew it. Knew it!”

Cassandra holds her hands in prayer, “Praise the Maker.”

Cullen lifts the Herald heavy with snow and ice. Sera and Blackwall clear the path into the camp. The commotion wakes the whole camp. Everyone watches Cullen carry her to the make shift infirmary.

Cullen looks down to find her staring at him with half open eyes and frosted lashes. “I can’t believe it. Herald, you made it. The dragon, the avalanche, the cold. A miracle. ”

“Never living this one down." She groans. "I'm just...Evelyn.”

How does he respond to that? Cullen wonders. She's dying yet she jokes. She's dying and his heart is ready to burst.

.

.

A New Title and a Fortress
Apparently escaping the Fade, becoming the Herald of Andraste, closing the breach, recruiting agents, fighting demons (and bandits, Venatori, bears, dragons, apostates, red templars), surviving an avalanche, finding Skyhold, and most important, pissing off Corypheus, a would-be god and his pet dragon, wins one the title of Inquisitor…and all the responsibilities that go with it.

Evelyn accepts the title. She hopes to show all of Thedas a mage standing for what is right. A mage is more than a person to be feared. Changing people's opinions about mages is important, but even more urgent, she accepts the Inquisitor title because the consequences are dire. Corypheus will destroy the world.

Corypheus attacked Haven for one reason: to reclaim the anchor. He attempted to extract the anchor only to find it permanently bonded to her hand. Beyond a doubt, he wants her dead and will kill everyone, destroy everything to get it done. She will not see people die because of her.

After Evelyn accepts the Inquisitor's ceremonial sword Dorian pulls her aside, “According to my sources, mainly me, our Commander is running himself mad. He's over-managing his troops, workers and refugees, and orchestrating all of Skyhold. He'll fall from exhaustion if the new boss doesn’t do something. He needs a distraction, the prettier the better. I have it on good authority that a certain handsome Tevinter mage isn’t the right distraction for our Commander.”

“Not this again, Dorian.” The Tevinter talked her ear off on way to Skyhold about the Commander, “He wasn’t swooning over me, he was worried, you know, me freezing to death and all. Everyone swooned. If you’ll quit nagging, I'll check on our Commander. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Oh, he is fine, one fine looking man, who fancies you. If you haven’t noticed I must conclude freezing in the snow addled your brain, my dear,” Dorian winks.

“We're friends, somewhat...well, most days. He's very moody." On the journey to Skyhold Cullen didn't acting like the man she knew in Haven: He seems driven beyond reason, a man on a mission.

“Or maybe templar’s swear vows against fraternizing with mages. Oh, we need to know. Ask him if there are templar rules or celibacy vows.” Dorian begs.

That peaks her interest. She stops by Cullen’s command post in Skyhold’s yard.

“Looks very busy around here. How are things going, Commander?"

He looks up from his pile of reports, and oh, great Maker, Dorian is right, the man's working himself to death. Cullen is pale, his eyes bloodshot. How is he even standing?

He didn’t slow a bit as he spoke, “All our soldiers are assigned duties. Supplies arrive by the hour. The infirmary is set up in the yard for now. I found a suitable place but it needs repairs which are underway. We’ll have everything ship shape. Morale was low when we lost Haven but since you accepted the role of Inquisitor morale has improved drastically.”

“Inquisitor Trevelyan, that’s some title.”

Cullen signs reports and hands them to a clerk, “It sounds good.”

“Is that the official opinion?”

“Of course, we all agree. You have our full support.” He stops and looks at her. He finds himself trying to catch his breath. He turns pointedly serious, “What happen at Haven was unacceptable. We will be prepared this time.”

“We were overcome. Thank you for getting everyone out. And I'm glad you got out, too.”

“Well….um…,” His face warms with embarrassment. He watched her walk out that door into the smoke and fire. He saw her emerged from the blizzard alive. He looks at her, his eyes filled with reverence. He witnessed acts proving she, a mage, is the Herald of Andraste.

“You stayed behind. Willing to sacrifice yourself… You have my word that will not happen again.” He stands like a love sick boy. He's uncomfortable for a moment then quickly buries his attention in reports.

“May I ask you something else?” Evelyn says ready with a distraction.

He doesn't stop working, “What do you want to ask?”

“Now that the templars are here, will they still be templars?” She asks.

“They want to remain templars. They'll follow the templar code. You allowed that.” More papers sorted, he jots a note on one.

“What about you? Do you still follow the templar code?” She asks.

“What do you mean?” A clerk hands him a report.

“Templar vows?” She keeps after him.

“Me? I am no longer a Templar. I have no vows.” He grows irritated at the line of questions.

“So no vows of celibacy?” She asks bluntly.

The poor Commander froze in shock, like Corypheus had offered to play him a game of chess. ”What?! Oh. Um… Do we need to speak about this?”

Wow, she thinks. Dorian is right, it's a good distraction. “I thought we were at a point we could talk about anything.”

He's anxious for a way out, “Is there anything else we could talk about?”

“Are there other topics I should avoid?”

A nervous blush blooms across his face, “The answer is no, I’ve taken no vows. Can we speak about something else?”

“How about rest or food? When’s the last time you ate? Commander, you need a break.” She can't tell if he looked more flustered, embarrassed, angry, or exhausted.

He is angry again. “Is this an order?”

“My first order as Inquisitor if you don’t go voluntarily. I'm new to all this leader of the Inquisition thing. I’ll lose respect with my minions if I have to beg. Please don't make me beg.”

His face flushes again. He's confused why he's reacting like this. Dear Maker, what was wrong with him? Andraste, forgive his weaknesses. “I’ll stop at sunset. Is that good enough?”

“If sunset includes end of your work day, then yes, good enough.” Evelyn leaves the grumpy man at his table. She notes his emotions bouncing all over the place. She wonders where the sweet, bashful Haven Cullen has gone.

Chapter Text

Skyhold, according to Solas, is an ancient lost fortress older than the empire and perhaps once a strong hold of ancient elves. Magic permeates the grounds allowing grass, trees and foliage to grow in the icy cold of the Frostback Mountains. Unoccupied since the Third Blight, it's under considerable disrepair taking time for the Inquisition to make it habitable.

Off the towering main hall is the library, rookery, atrium, kitchen, war room...areas the Inquisitions would conduct it's business. Commander Rutherford claimed a tower adjoining the gatehouse. Above his office is a loft set up as his sleeping quarters. Across from the main tower is the Herald's Rest: tavern, commons, and gathering place for the people. As with all castle fortresses, there is a stable, dungeon, armory and smith. Off the main hall is the Royal Chambers, now called the Inquisitor's Suite.

Evelyn looks over the Inquisitor’s suite. Her noble parents didn’t have a bedroom that big. The Inquisitor’s suite is bigger than her dormitory at Ostwick Circle and eighteen women lived in that room. Had her parents paid "tribute" to the Circle she'd have a private room, instead she was "common" and thus lived in a dormitory.

Three huge walk-out stain glass doors opened to separate balconies overlooking the snow peaks. For two nights after Josephine gave her the key she left after dark and slept in the women’s barracks. The suite's too big and too isolated.

Varric stands astonished when he arrives for his appointment. "Wow, this is huge!" he exclaims.

"Perfect for Dorian's proposed naked Wicked Grace Night." she jokes. "Bookings available for private parties. Favorite dwarfs with great chests get the best rates.”

“I’ve missed your sarcasm, my friend. You are all too serious lately.”

“Ah, well, ancient magistrates, red lyrium dragons, and my favorite, red lyrium templars take the fun out of life. I’ll get over it.” Varric always brightens her day.

“Are you ready? Our appointment waits on the ramparts.” Varric says.

Varric takes Evelyn to a quiet location high up in Skyhold. Moments later he turns her attention to a handsome man walking down the steps, “Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall.”

She's never met him but she knows all about him. The Chantry banned Varric's book, 'The Tale of the Champion', from the Circles, which only spurred everyone to smuggle copies for any mage who wished to read it. Hawke and his gang of misfits were cult heroes.

The Champion smiles kindly, extending his hand in greeting. “Pleasure to meet you. Inquisitor.”

“Likewise.” She responds. Her fantasies of a larger than life man who defied the Chantry and killed darkspawn with the wave of his hand disappears. Face to face she sees a man, a good man, and most important, a mage who never lived in the Circle.

"Tell me it's true: You lived outside the circle your entire life. Your mage father left the circle, married and had a family. You learned magic from your father. No one turned into an abomination. No one accidentally burned the house down."

"You sound like that's impossible."

"That's what the Circle says. If it is possible, the Circle doesn't want us to know."

"It's possible and the Chantry doesn't want you to know." The Champion confirms, "My father was a mage. He and my mother raised three children: two with magic and one without. We had a wonderful life on a farm...until the blight. We were forced to flee and ended up in Kirkwall. Now if you're thinking of a family, Inquisitor, the world needs saving....its duty first."

“Your family lived my dream life, well all the way up to the Blight. Does all this ever get easier?”

“I’ll let you know.” Despite his honorary title and heroic deeds, Hawk is a fugitive, hiding since the Kirkwall Chantry explosion. His association with Anders, the mage who blew up the Kirkwall Chantry, earned him a fugitive status.

“You and Varric fought Corypheus?” She turns the conversation to the point.

“Fought and killed. Varric, Fenris, Anders and I found the Grey Warden prison where they magically imprisoned Corypheus. He attempted to escape by influencing blight infected dwarfs. Corypheus got into Anders head, tried to take him over. I worried I’d have to kill Anders. In the end we killed Corypheus, his body lay at my feet. He was dead. Very dead. If Corypheus is alive and the Wardens have disappeared, they may be under his influence, like Anders. I suspect Grey Wardens may be at risk.”

“Can a connection between Corypheus and the Grey Wardens be broken? Did Anders break free?

“Once Corypheus died, he no longer had power over Anders, so the answer seems to be yes.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I worry for Anders. If Corypheus is out there Anders is vulnerable as are all Grey Wardens.”

“Where's Anders?”

“We parted ways after we defeated Meredith. He’s in hiding. He didn’t tell me where and I haven’t heard from him. Last time he was in hiding he worked as a healer. Varric?” Hawk looks to Varric for an answer.

“Not a peep or meow.” Varric says.

“I didn’t come here with just bad news, I've a friend in the Grey Wardens who has more information. Warden Loghain hasn’t disappeared like the other Grey Wardens, he's hiding in a cave near Crestwood. You and I need to see him.”

“May I ask something about Anders? People expected you to kill Anders for blowing up the Chantry, but you didn’t. Why did you let him go?”

Hawke thought for a moment, “Don’t misunderstand, I didn’t condone his actions. I would have stopped him if I could. Violence and riots never solve anything. The fault always falls on a select few, deal with them, hurt them. Killing thousands of darkspawn doesn’t stop a blight. Killing one archdemon does.

“Anders’ actions were wrong but between Meredith’s reign of terror, and Grand Cleric Elthina intentionally not doing anything, they created a nightmare that begged someone to act, or so Anders believed. He wasn’t wrong, once Meredith and Elthina fell the violence subsided and Kirkwall began to recover.

The Champion continued, “To answer your question, I think Anders wanted to be a martyr. I wasn’t going to give him that. I wanted him to see the consequences, Anders and Justice, see the suffering and deaths they caused. I told him to atone. Find a way to earn forgiveness. He isn’t a monster, he was desperate. Many people in Kirkwall, especially mages, were desperate.”

“I appreciate your candor.” She likes Hawke's approach to difficult situations: look for what's best, not the easiest or most popular solution.

Hawke adds, "Let’s go to Crestwood.”

“We leave at first light.” She responds.

Chess
Evelyn walks to the garden after departing Varric and the Champion. She spots Dorian and Cullen playing chess on the patio.

Cullen is one move from compromising Dorian’s king so he offers a warning, “Gloat all you like, I have this one.”

“Are you sassing me, Commander? I didn’t know you had it in you.” Dorian spots Evelyn approaching. Chess with the handsome Commander is about to be interrupted.

“Inquisitor!” Cullen nearly dumps the chess board in his haste to stand.

“Leaving are you? Does this mean I win?” Calm and cool, Dorian moves a chess piece. “You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You’ll feel much better.”

Cullen returns to his chair when she gestures him to sit. Once composed he notices the Tevinter’s move. He counters the move, “Really? Because I just won and I feel fine.”

“Don’t get smug. There will be no living with you.” Dorian stands to greet Evelyn. “How are you, my dear?.”

Dorian notices Cullen’s scowl when he kisses Evelyn on her cheek. Oh, yes, the Commander fancies the Inquisitor, even if he doesn't know it yet.

"Commander," Evelyn says standing beside the table, "You look rested. Worried for you when we first got here. You were working too hard."

“I'm fine. You ordered me to rest and I rested. There was a lot to do when we first arrived. Would you care for a game?” Cullen asks.

She accepts the invitation. She sits down and sets up her side. “I’m not good at this. These two templars ran chess in our Circle. The looser had to....I wasn’t willing to pay, well…you know.”

Cullen's face darkens as he deduces her meaning, yet another tragic mage story from the circle, yet one more regret to bear.

She notes the pained look on his face, “Oh, no, not that kind of price! I’m sorry. Not all my Circle stories are tragic. The looser had to clean the templar’s armor. These guys were big with lots of armor. They always won. Didn't wan to clean their armor. Don’t want to clean your armor either."

He appreciates the clarification. “Chess takes practice. As a child, I played with my sister. She won all the time. My brother and I practiced together for weeks. The look on her face the day I finally won… Between serving the templars and the Inquisition, I haven’t seen them in years.”

“Siblings? I forget templars have families. Where are they now?” She's surprised he shares something so personal.

“Two sisters and a brother. Moved to South Reach after the Blight. She tracked me down after all the chaos. I do not write to them as often as I should.”

She finds that odd, “Tracked you down? She didn’t know where you were?”

“I let her know I was in Haven. She assumed I survived.”

“Thought I was heartless.” She finds his response too casual.

“I may have neglected to tell her when I was transferred to Kirkwall, too. I wasn’t in a good state. I received an angry letter about my disappearance two years later.”

“They care enough to write. No letter comes from my family. Never will…me being a mage and all. You should write your family more often.”

“Is that an order?” He asks.

“Definitely.” She moves a knight on the board.

Cullen fights the compulsion to shake his head. The knight move is poorly thought out and evidence she is not good at chess. "Have you forgotten all the military strategy I taught you?"

She furrows her brows. "Real life military strategy doesn't seem to apply. Is cheating strategy? Never mind, I cheat very badly."

Much as she tried, she lost the first game. She did better the second game but lost all the same.

“Check mate," he announces on his second victory. "This may be the longest we’ve gone without discussing the Inquisition or related matters. To be honest, I appreciate the distraction.”

Her face scrunches up at the second defeat. “Far better than reading reports. Would you consider teaching me chess?”

“Of course, I’d like that. Next week, same time?” Cullen suggests. Running the Inquisition's military gives him satisfaction but it' a long time since he had something besides work to look forward to. He looks forward to their daily briefs.

“Leaving for Crestwood tomorrow, but absolutely, when I return. We should spend more time together being regular people not doing Inquisition stuff."

"You'd spend time with me?" He asks cautiously.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Templar?" He replies.

"You really must make up your mind, Cullen. Either you are a templar or commit to being an ex-templar. Since you're an ex-templar I'd play chess with you."

"Okay." Is all the answer he has. He watches her reset her chess pieces. Talking with her makes him feel alive for the first time in a long time. She puts him at ease, he feels relaxed around her. Hard not to smile. She actually said she wants to spend time with him.

"Yep, spending time with you would be fine." Evelyn finishes putting her chess pieces in their proper places.

“You said that.” He's pleased she would consider spending time with him. No, he is delighted. He has few friends and she is turning out to be an unexpected but welcome friend. Tonight turned out to be a very fine night.

 
Preliminary Scout Report
Crestwood
The inquisitor arrived safely. Hawk arrived yesterday and is out tracking his “friend”. Due to complications the original three day plan is now an estimate two to three week stay.

A Fade Rift rests underwater in the middle of the lake. Soon after locals reported dead bodies walking out from the lake. Crestwood and the area was overrun by aggressive and hostile dead. Locals are ill equipped to fight back. Trade caravans quit all travel to Crestwood. The town lacks essential supplies. Survivors are holed up in Crestwood.

Crestwood’s mayor disregarded the Inquisitor's belief that a cavern under the lake is the source of the walking dead, but is allowing her to investigate. To reach the rift the Inquisitor plans to drain the lake. A local bandit group occupies the Keep barring entrance to the damn. Inquisitor plans to “evict” the bandits.

If all goes as planned, closing the fade rift will stop the walking dead.

To Cassandra: You are correct. The Inquisitor arrived with one objective: talk to Hawk’s friend, the Warden. She cannot stand by when she can help. Her new objectives include stop the dead, restore commerce, evict bandits, kill a dragon (did I forget to mention the dragon), rid of some Red Templar (she could of skipped but insisted)…and, if I know our Inquisitor, that list will grow. She can’t help herself.

To Leliana: Once Caer Bronach Keep is freed from bandits, it is an ideal location for an Inquisition intelligence base. Crestwood is a crossroads for commerce. Travelers mean information. Give it a thought.
Scout Harding

Lyrium 101
Upon her return from Crestwood, Evelyn receives a summons from Commander Rutherford. Hmm, ominous. Her schedule meeting with him is in the morning so this must be important. Or she's in trouble. Maybe he wants to explain which end of the sword is dangerous…again.

She takes the stairs by the stables, two steps at a time up to his office. Over the last month they've gotten along very well. She felts less anxious talking with the 'I’m not a templar anymore'. He seems to move past that she was a mage and potential abomination. Maybe. Ugh.

She knocks twice and pushes the door open.

Cullen's jaw clenches. Dread binds his stomach. This could go badly. He may lose her respect, or worse, their new friendship.

Evelyn stops in front of his desk where he looks at a small box.

“As leader of the inquisition it’s only right you know that I stopped taking lyrium.”

He looks up and she is astonished at his pale face. “You stopped? When? How long has it been?”

“When I joined the inquisition,” he responds, “It’s been months.”

“Why did you quit?” Templars don't quit lyrium so she is concerned.

He rubs his forehead trying to ease the blinding headache that started that morning. “After what happen in Kirkwall, I couldn’t…I will not be bound to the Order – or that life – any longer.”

“Oh.” Evelyn responds. He talks nothing about the events of Kirkwall. “I'm surprised…in a good way. Is this why sometimes you don’t look well, like you haven’t slept this year, or you're about to collapse? Is that what's going on?"

"Lyrium withdraw causes pain, tremors, illness, insomnia, nightmares." He tries to be honest but prefers to say as little as possible. He needs to get past this quickly.

"Sometimes you act....um....not like yourself? One day you're happy I've stopped by. The next day I wish you weren't carrying a sword. You know. Lyrium Rage."

"You know about that?"

"Um, mage here. Twelve years in the Circle. Seen Templars go to boiling in less than two seconds. Mentioned my templar apprehension?"

Yes, that may happen." He tries to hide the mood swings. Sometimes his behavior seems to have a will of its own.

"I can't complain, you do your job exceptionally well. But, isn’t this dangerous? How long do the symptoms last: Month, year, permanent? Can't this kill you?”

"Templars cut off from lyrium can go insane. Turn violent. Lyrium Rage as you call it. Physically withdraws are difficult." Cullen responds impersonally, "Some of the side effects may improve over time, but we don't know for sure. As a Seeker, Cassandra will monitor me. If my ability to lead is compromised, she'll relieve me from duty.”

“She is qualified to make that call so I trust her.” Evelyn moves next to him at the side of his desk, looking directly at him. He looks so miserable and so unhappy about the situation, "Thank you for telling me. Officially, the Inquisitor supports you.”

Cullen exhales with relief, “Thank you, Inquisitor.”

Without warning she puts her arms around him pressing against his armor establishing a firm hug.

Shocked, he raises his arms up and away from her, “What are you doing?”

“It's a hug. Look like you need it.”

He's astonished, “Inquisitor?”

She continues her hold. “The Inquisitor left ten seconds ago. This is Evelyn, your friend. I care about you and you look like you need a hug.”

His surprise is undiminished. “Care? Since When?”

She peers up from the position across the chest, “I’ve always cared. Took time to stop looking at the templar so I could see you.”

Now more uncomfortable than surprised, “Are we done with this?”

Unfettered she replies, “Almost. It’s been ten seconds since you thought about Lyrium. Ah, Maker. Just had to say that out loud. I'm not the huggy type so I must be very sincere about wanting to help you.”

He gains some composure, “Be careful, people may think you have a soul.”

“Was that sarcasm? I'm impressed. Very well executed. You know sarcasm comes from a very deep and dark place in your soul. Varric says I must bleed internally because my sarcasm drips with blood.”

“We know that about you. You should work on that. You may be a nice person someday.”

“Another! Oh, I have goose bumps. Such a bad influence on you. By the way, that’s twenty seconds more since…well, not saying it out loud. Think I've done what I could today.”

“Nice Evelyn should show herself more often." Despite his anxiety over the situation, he doesn't want to discourage her.

The unhappy Cullen disappears and her familiar awkward kinder friend stands before her. She gently answers, “I’ve always been here you know…while internally bleeding. I didn’t think you understood me, or what I went through, but maybe you do. Well, I'll let you recover from the hug. I know I'll need a few moments to get over the shock, I’m not a hugger.” She turns and walks to the door, “Ten more seconds, Commander.”

As she leaves the office he says, “Thank you, Inquisitor.” He listens as she walks down the stairs. Under his breath he says “Thank you, Evelyn.”

Chapter Text

Cassandra knocks on Cullen’s door. She finds him sorting through books. The Commander looks poorly, like he is desperately in need of sleep.

“Commander, do you have some time?” She asks.

“Of course, what can I do for you?” Books are returned to the shelf before he turns to Cassandra.

“Two things, a report arrived from the Western Approach. You're about to be very busy. But that will wait a moment. You're avoiding me. You were to talk with the Inquisitor, yes?”

He answers in a matter of fact tone, “I did.”

She shakes her head. She understands that he is reluctant to share anything personal and his lyrium situation is very personal. “Then let’s hear it, how are things between you and the Inquisitor?”

He surrenders no details. “Fine.”

“You know what I mean. What did she say? About you quitting lyrium.”

“There is no problem.”

He'll never be forthcoming, she thinks, “Must I drag this out of you? You resisted speaking to her until I threatened to do it myself. One moment you're friendly with the Inquisitor, the next you appear tense and ill at ease around her. Does it still bother you that she's a mage?”

He wants to avoid the topic. Why must she persist with this? “No, she isn’t a threat, I see no signs of corruption.”

That takes Cassandra aback, “Wait. Are you monitoring the mages, and specifically, the Inquisitor?”

It's a mistake saying that, he anticipated and said the wrong thing, “No, no. I don’t. I don’t. It’s not that. The fear lingers. Without the lyrium, it’s hard to push it back. I find myself…cautious with the Inquisitor.”

"Thought as much." He's so determined to overcome his past he misses the obvious, “You drag your past with you, seeing maleficar everywhere. You cannot protect or serve when you feed your anger and suspicions. But you know that.”

Cullen is ashamed this can't be instantly resolved. When the Herald is close he's fine, but as she walks away he eyes her with suspicion, “I know.”

“You are not alone in this. She claims she’s over her fear of templars, but she's not. In the back of her mind she still sees you as a templar. She's terrified of returning to the Circle.”

“She shouldn’t worry.” He replies.

Cassandra gets to the point, “You need to hear that very same thing. You shouldn’t fear, Commander. This is not the Circle. Giving into these fears may cause a relapse; lead you back to lyrium.”

“Thank you for your concern.” he says.

“I’ve reason to be concerned. You face your biggest job yet as Inquisition Commander. These are orders to attack Adamant.”

In the breath of a moment Cullen refocuses on the new task. This is it, an opportunity to prove himself as leader of the Inquisition forces. He scans the report.

“So it’s true, the Grey Wardens are holed up in Adamant Fortress. They're summoning a demon army. Maker preserve us. I’ve anticipated this, preparations are under way but we’ve no base in the Western Approach.”

“Last section of the report. The Inquisitor captured Griffon Wing Keep; perfect location to hold supplies and stage troops. This is your first major offensive, Commander. Are you up to it?”

“I look forward to proving myself. I shall not fail the Inquisition.”

“Alright then. I know you will succeed.” she says. She watches Cullen immerse himself in the report already forgetting she's there. She said what she intended to say but she is concerned. She believes he can do this, but he'll push himself. He wants to prove himself beyond all reason. This worries her.

A few days after she returns to Skyhold Evelyn is already preparing to depart with the Inquisition Army for Adamant. Evelyn made rounds with team members catching up on developments and personal requests. The final War Council is set for late afternoon so Evelyn heads to Commander Rutherford’s office.

Evelyn stops outside his door. Which Cullen will greet her today? He seemed better for a time after they talked about his lyrium situation, but the day she left for the Western Approach he was on edge. He unexpectedly snapped when she spoke about Blackwall. He apologized immediately. People get angry, she knows that, but an angry templar is scary. She fights thinking of the Commander that way.

Evelyn knocks on the office door and walks in, “Just checking in, Commander. Anything I need to know?”

Engrossed with reports, he answers without looking up, “Not at this time.”

Evelyn hesitates in front of his desk. He's distant, impersonal. She takes a chance anyway. “How’s the…that? Are you in pain?”

Cullen grimaces. A headache pounds against his front skull. This morning he had disturbing nightmares. He is terse, “I can endure it.”

“Wish it was easier.”

“So do I." He replies still not looking up. He has no time for this. There are endless preparations for Adamant to manage. So much is at stake and the battle plans land squarely at his feet. It's all he thinks about.

Evelyn hates to bother him but she wants to know he is okay. She stands silently wondering if she should say more.

“You going to pounce again?” He grumbles, catching her off guard.

“Oh! Certainly I could…if it would help.”

“Must you pounce on me so unexpectedly?” This time he sounds angry.

“If I announced ‘incoming hug!’ you’d duck and I’d be face down on the floor. Or I’d end up chasing you around the desk looking utterly ridiculous.” She grimaces. Poor timing for a joke. Not that she was trying to joke. It just jumps out. Maker!

Cullen attempts a gruff-leave-me-alone frown. A human Cullen says. “Probably.”

Just a slight elevation in his mood satisfies her. He's okay. Then her eyes grow wide, “Just a moment. You didn’t say ‘Don’t pounce on me.’”

Cullen lets out an exasperated breath.

“Don’t worry. Hug not necessary. Consider this a reprieve. Be warned that pouncing may occur again when conditions deem necessary.” She steps toward the door but then turns around, “And Commander, despite my reputation, I’m discrete. I won’t embarrass you or undermine your authority. I'll pounce in private and with the very best intentions.

Cullen tries looking gruff as he resumes his work. Her 'pounce in private' fully distracts him from his headache. What he's thinking is not what she means, right? Why is he even thinking that?

"It's a long ride to the Western Approach. Perhaps we can ride together and discuss strategy. Could still use your help." She suggests.

"I'd like that." He replies cautiously hoping his face isn't blush.

Evelyn leaves his office. Outside the door she smiles…he likes the pounces.

Adamant Fortress
Field Report – Brief Update
Patience, I am shaken. The Inquisitor, Cassandra, the whole team, fallen. At this time I am uncertain if any survived.

The battle unfolded as planned, we assaulted the walls and stormed the front gate. Our soldiers engaged Grey Wardens, demons, and Venatori. As expected, to my regret, we suffered losses.

The Inquisitor and her team, Cassandra, The Iron Bull and Sera, along with Hawke and Warden Loghain, entered the fortress looking for Warden-Commander Clarel and the Venatori Magister Erimond.

Knight-Captain Rylen took charge at the front gate while a handful of soldiers and I followed the Inquisitor’s team to coordinate our forces inside and provide any needed back-up.

At the ritual area, the Inquisitor persuaded Clarel of Erimond's deception. Erimond, loosing the upper hand, summoned Corypheus’ dragon. Clarel, seeing her error, directed the remaining Grey Wardens to fight for the Inquisition.

The Dragon attacked as Erimond fled the field. Clarel, pursued Erimond: The Inquisitor and her team followed. My team arrived just as the dragon mortally wounded Clarel. The dragon turned on the Inquisitor and her team cornered at the end of a walkway. Clarel, in her final breath, hurled the dragon away from the Inquisitor. The dragon’s fall caused the entire walkway to collapse.

I witnessed the Inquisitor and her entire team fall into the Abyssal Rift. I am ashamed to admit I froze before realizing my duties. I peered over the edge for any sign of the Inquisitor but saw only the vast empty dark chasm.

Fighting continues with Venatori, demons and hostile Grey Wardens so I must return to my duties.

I will keep you apprised of any new developments.
May the Maker watch over us.
Commander Rutherford
Copies to Leliana, Josephine

Chapter Text

Who do people think she is now? The Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, an apostate, a mage? After Adamant, hard to say what they think. Revelations from the Fade change everything. Andraste didn't push her from the Fade. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What happen was not divine intervention.

Solas fumed that she invited the remaining Wardens to work with the Inquisition. Only the Wardens can stop a blight, but they are dangerous. The Inquisition shouldn't have them around. The Wardens need to be checked, but not by the Inquisition. Solas never explains anything.

Didn’t she and Solas get an in-person trip to the Fade!? Solas and the nightmare demon had a lot to say to each other....in the Elven language. Hardly fair since she doesn't speak Elven. On To Do list: learn Elven. Elvish? Exactly why I need to learn.

Solas watches her. Criticizes her decisions. In Haven they were friends. Now…now he treats her entirely different.

Vivienne is no better. What is her game? 'I shall crush you Inquisitor under my silky pearl studded shoes while patting your head and saying what a good little Inquisitor you are.' Okay, sarcasm helps a little. She is furious about the Wardens joining the Inquisition. Somethings happening there, with Vivienne.

Cassandra disapproves inviting the Wardens but respects my decision. Josephine and Leliana remain neutral, neither approving nor condemning. Everyone has an opinion about the Wardens and all too happy to tell her.

Cullen hadn’t spoken to her about Adamant. Since returning to Skyhold she hadn't seen him. Adamant was a massive undertaking. Is he busy getting troops back to Skyhold? Settling the Wardens? Did revelations from the Fade change his opinion of her? Does he still believes she is the chosen, the Herald of Andraste. Will the truth change how he treats her?

Evelyn went to talk with him. She takes the route by the stables, two steps at a time up the stairs. The clerk in his office says the Commander stepped out to speak with Cassandra.

After a little search near the practice area she hears Cassandra’s voice in the Smith. Inside she finds an annoyed Cassandra and an angry Cullen exchanging heated words. The arguing halts as she steps inside. Cullen, looking ashamed and exhausted, excuses himself, uttering ‘forgive me’ as he leaves.

Evelyn looks to Cassandra. “What’s going on?”

“The Commander request he be relieved as Military Adviser and I said no”

“Request? Why? He hasn't spoken to me.”

“He doesn't want to disappoint you. Adamant was a chance to prove himself worthy of his position. As a Seeker, I’ve watched over his lyrium withdrawal. The Inquisition is his chance to break the lyrium leash to prove that it is possible. He pushes himself too hard. He doesn’t talk about his suffering nor does he allow himself time to recover. I know he can do this. I knew when we met in Kirkwall. Talk to him. Change his mind.” Cassandra appeals to Evelyn.

Evelyn understands. Between the pressure of Adamant and symptoms of lyrium withdrawal, he neglects himself. She picks up a few things from the kitchen then heads up the stairs. Cautiously she opens the door. A small wooden box hits at the door shattering to pieces. Evelyn just avoids being hit. A sarcastic "spot on" nearly leaves lips until she sees his sickly pale face.

Horrified he nearly struck her, Cullen steps her way until his knees buckle by the desk. Concern turns to shame that Evelyn sees him like this.

“Forgive me. I never meant for this to interfere.” He holds himself against the desk.

Evelyn sets the basket down and reaches to support him, “Cullen, are you alright?”

He pushes against the desk to stand. "You asked what happen at Ferelden Circle. It was taken over by abominations. The templars, my friends were slaughtered. I was tortured. The desire demon used my own feelings against me. They tried to break my mind. Still I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my Knight-Commander and for what? Her fear of mages ended in madness. Kirkwall Circle fell, innocent people died on the streets. Can’t you see why I want nothing to do with that life?”

"I..I had no idea." No templar talks about what they witness or did in the Circle. They are a tight-lipped group. Great maker. Tortured by demons? "I understand."

“Don’t…” he waves her away. “You should be questioning what I’ve done. I thought this would be better, that I would regain some control over my life. These thoughts won’t leave me. How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause. I will not give less to the Inquisition than I gave to the Chantry. I should be taking it.” Cullen fist strikes the bookcase, “I should be taking it.”

Maker. Circle Rule: Avoid Angry Templars but here stands Commander Rutherford, ex-Templar, angry. She braves forward. “This doesn’t need to be about the inquisition. Is that what you want?”

“No, but these memories have always haunted me. If they become worse, if I cannot endure this.” He closes his eyes trying to compose himself.

She steps close putting her hand on his chest armor. “You can. You have my support. Anything I can do to help."

He sees hope and sincerity in those eyes. “All right.”

“Thank the Maker. You need to take better care of yourself, like eating.” She points to the basket of food she brought.

“Okay.”

"I believe anyone can come back, have a second chance, choose to be better. You're brave. You want to change. Despite your struggles, you choose to serve." She looks him in the eye and says, “ Well, enough of that. Commander Rutherford, you're excused from duty until sunrise tomorrow. I’ll notify the guard no one is to disturb you and if anyone sets foot in this office they get latrine duty for a month. You'll eat a little food, then climb up to bed and try to sleep. Even if you can't sleep, you will rest. Questions?”

“Are you serious?” He asks…testing her intent.

“Sounds like a mighty Inquisitor order, but its just me trying to help. I am serious about the endless clerks and guards walking through this office…they all should get latrine duty.” He still looks irritated but its immensely better than lyrium-rage-want-to-die Cullen.

“Sorry, Commander, can’t help myself. This is serious but you’re important to me so my strange humor just escape. I’ll stay if you like but probably better if I go. I'm liable to tie you up and force feed you…oh, did I say that out loud?” Is she seeing a small smile creep above Cullen’s exhaustion?

“Thank you, I’ll be fine. Wish you wouldn't say things like that...getting tied up...I mean its not that I'm interested in that...but hearing it. Maker." Did he say that out loud? What is it about her that he says the stupidest things?

“Okay, then. Serious about helping...and not tying you up. That's not so important right now.” She leaves, gently closing the door, a bit embarrassed. Stupid words. She makes way to her chambers for a quick rest. She's to see Solas just before the mid-day meal. Last she saw him he was staring at an unpainted panel.

"Solas?" Evelyn enters the Solarium quietly. Solas stands silent staring at a panel. He's completely surprised when she speaks his name. He looks as if he'd sees a demon and Cassandra playing cards. He puzzles over her presence.

"Sorry if I took you by surprise. We're to talk. About the Fade."

"Herald? Evelyn?" He appears confused by her presence.

"Pick one. I prefer Evelyn. About Adamant. I ended up in the Fade again. You said a human entering the Fade is extraordinary. This time I brought guests. You were there. I'm a bit freaked out."

"Alright, let's discuss this further. Preferably somewhere more comfortable." Solas says as he walks Evelyn to a door. In an instant they are in Haven, devoid of people, untouched by Corypheus.

"Haven?" Evelyn asks.

"Haven is familiar. Where it all began. It will always be special to you."

Evelyn looks around as she realizes this isn't really Haven. "This isn't real. Am I dreaming? Did you do this?"

"You did this and real is a matter of perspective. How about we finish this discussion when you wake up."

Evelyn's in her bed. She laid down for a quick nap. What the.... She hurries to Solas who sits calmly at his desk.

"Sleep well?

"Solas, what just happened?"

"Do you know what a somniari is? A Dreamer?"

Evelyn tries to comprehend the incomprehensible. "Dreamers are rare, usually end up possessed by demons."

"The Anchor's bestowed you another gift. You are a dreamer but no more at risk of possession than I am. You might say there's no room for a demon because of the Anchor. Once again you've proven you are extraordinary."

"I don't want to be extraordinary. Hoping for ordinary. Fine being just Evelyn."

"Too late." Solas says.

"...so I have free access to the Fade when ever I want to take a Fade stroll?

"That is the power of sominiri. Access to the Fade, access to other's dreams."

Evelyn squirrels up her face as if she just bit into a lemon. "Just dandy."

Evelyn and her team got busy. Between the Exalted Plains and the Emerald Graves, Evelyn spent six weeks away from Skyhold settling the civil war between Empress Celene and her cousin, Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. Corypheus’ interference kept Orlais in turmoil. Once the Inquisition abolished the Venatori, demons and Freeman of the Dales, a cease fire began.

Back at Skyhold, preparations rush toward the Winter Palace Ball in Halamshiral. Liliana went on about potential targets at the ball and who would wear the best shoes. Cassandra grumbles, “Uggh. Nobles! I’m expected to go aren’t I? Ugh.” An excited Josephine has a surprise project for Evelyn.

Josephine expects her in the afternoon but first Evelyn responds to Cullen's note to stop by his office. He isn't there. She finds him outside breathing in the cold breeze that lifts over the snow peaks.

"How are you, Cullen?"

"Pain free for the first time in months. I want to thank you. When you came to see me…if there’s anything. Oh, this sounded much better in my head.”

Evelyn is just back from three weeks out in the field. Everyday she wonders how he's doing, “You're feeling better?”

He surrenders all effort, letting the conversation go where it will, “I…yes.”

“Is it always that bad?” She asks.

“The pain comes and goes. Sometimes I feel as if I’m back there. I shouldn't have pushed myself so far during Adamant.”

“Skyhold won’t fall apart if you take an hour for yourself now and then.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” He says. “Never told anyone what truly happen at Ferelden’s Circle. I was…not myself after that. I was angry, that anger blinded me. I couldn’t trust my own feelings. I’m not proud of the man that made me. The way that I saw mages...I'm not sure I would have cared about you. And the thought of that sickens me. I try to put distance between myself and everything that happen. It’s all I can do.”

Did he say he cared about her? “You’re a better person than you give yourself credit for.”

“I appreciate the thought, but I know who I am. Anyway, I meant to thank you, not trouble you further. You’ve enough to worry about. How are you holding up?”

“Lately? Adamant scared Cole so he asked Solas and me to find a protective amulet. The amulet doesn’t work. Varric jumped in because he thinks Cole should be human, not a spirit. Solas came close to… Well let’s just say Solas explains things but not in great detail. I’m left in the middle of it. I don't want to piss Solas off again. Don’t get me started on the Winter Palace. There may be dresses.

“Want to know, Cullen, the crappiest part of being Inquisitor? Always one or more persons upset at my decisions. Iron Bull says the Qunari choose leaders who can make tough decisions and live with the outcome. I can live with my decisions. The hard part is putting up with the objectors. And wow, right, that I'm doing any of this."

She turns to him, “Sorry, Commander, wanted to see how you were feeling not to burden you with my problems.”

Cullen smiles. “I don't mind. Please, talk to me about anything. I'm willing to listen.”

Evelyn is relieved she has her friend back, “You'll be sorry you said that…I have a backlog of problems. Solas and Vivienne are always top on that list. Cullen, if I can help with your withdraws, the pain, or the nightmares, let me know. Always available if you need a pounce.”

“Pretty sure it’s not a pounce if I ask."

“If you asked for a hug I’d turn fifty shades of red and run the other way.” She's slightly surprise at her confession.

“Now you know how I feel. Anyhow, I was relieved to hear you were safe and headed back to Skyhold. Would you like to take a walk?" He escorts her on a leisurely walk across the ramparts listening attentively to all her woes and worries.

Evelyn meets Josephine fifteen minutes before the War Council. Fabric swatches and sketches cover the table.

Evelyn’s curiosity peaks, “Josephine, what's this?”

“You must be the first to see this. At Vivienne’s suggestion, I secured a tailor out of Val Royeaux. They sent sketches for a dress for you and uniforms for the Winter Palace.

Evelyn is patient, “Please, go on.”

“We need formal uniforms for Leliana, Cassandra, Cullen, myself plus three companions of your choice for the Winter Palace. I’m thinking a single matching uniform for the Inquisition leadership and companions. You’ll wear such a gown that the court will talk for ages.”

Evelyn wonders if Josephine, who works at a desk and deals with the higher echelon of society, misunderstands why the Inquisition is attending this ball. “You do know we’re gathering intelligence and interrupting an assassination plot?”

“Of course. As it is, Duke Gaspard is our host and he expects a beautiful woman on his arm. For you, I am thinking this dress.” Josephine hands Evelyn a sketch.

"Ooo, look at that. A beautiful stunning gown guaranteed to turn the plainest woman into the most beautiful woman in Thedas. Who wouldn't want to wear that? Every man, and a few women, will drool at the sight. By midnight at least four marriages will crumble. A tall handsome man will rip off my gown and make passionate love to me. Who wouldn't long for that? In that dress I'll stand a beacon of beauty and desire before jealous royalty and nobility rather than save Thedas from chaos. Let's break hearts instead of saving Orlais from chaos. Sorry to break it to you but this isn't a fairy tale. Back to reality." Evelyn looks over the other sketches. She points to the red uniform jacket with the blue sash. “This one. We'll all wear this, including me.”

Josephine is shocked, “You cannot!”

“I may be the Dukes guest but we're not there to make nice with high society or find me a date. We're there to investigate, find information, look for clues, and possibly kill an assassin, maybe an accomplice." Evelyn puts her foot down. "I cannot do that wearing a tight corset, a rustling silk skirt, and swishing petticoats. I can't dive under a table if a corset bites into my hip. I can't scale chairs or climb gates in a dress.”

“But it is expected!” Josephine is aghast.

Evelyn points at Josephine’s dress selection for her, “This dress requires two ladies and fifteen minutes to dress me and the same to get me out of the dress. Won’t have time for that. No time to change if the assassin pulls a knife. I can't dodge arrows if I'm tripping over a petticoat. No. All of us wear the jackets.” Evelyn squares off with Josephine.

Cullen, Leliana and Cassandra enter the war room to find Josephine and Evelyn staring at each other.

What is all this?” Cassandra looks over the sketches covering the table.

Josephine resumes her ambassador tone, “Outfits for the Winter Palace. The Inquisitor and I disagree about her dress.

“No dress. We all wear matching jackets.” Evelyn doesn't move.

“We need to make a statement.” Josephine stands her ground,

“Our statement is solidarity, strength. We say the Inquisition knows our place and the Inquisitor doesn't wear ball gowns or a mask!”

Josephine starts to cave, “I just don’t know.”

Cassandra looks at the sketch Evelyn pointed out, “This Jacket? That's nice.”

Josephine makes a final attempt to sway the Council, “The Inquisitor needs to see reason and wear a dress.”

Evelyn thinks the whole scene tedious. “I’ll go naked before I wear a dress. That'll be distracting. Everyone in front of me will be stunned by my profoundly ordinary figure. Anyone looking at my back will run in terror. That'll stop the Venatori, am I right? Right. Anyone else have an opinion? No? Matching jackets it is. Is there anything else to discuss…no? Good. It’s dinner time and I'm starved.” Evelyn marches out leaving the rest to stare at the door. 

Evelyn enters Cullen’s office like any normal day, “Good morning, Commander. Is there anything I should know?”

“Not at this time.” He places his reports on the desk and steps close to Evelyn. “Do you have a moment?”

“For you, of course.” She smiles.

“Be patient with me?” He asks.

Evelyn wonders what she done this time, “Ominous but okay.”

“Did you choose matching uniforms for the reasons you said, solidarity, strength, which are good reasons? Or you won’t wear a dress because of your back?”

“I shouldn’t have said that. Josephine wouldn’t see reason. Got impatient.”

“Do you really think yourself ordinary or that your back looks monstrous?” He asks.

Evelyn's world comes to a screaming halt He doesn't talk about his lyrium situation and she doesn't like talking about her back or her plain looks. She responds tersely. "My eyes are open, Cullen, I'm as normal as a woman can be. As for the back, I have no idea how it looks, never looked. Don't plan to anytime soon. I'm sure Corypheus would admire the handiwork.”

“Don’t make this decision because of your back. It’s not monstrous. You have scars.”

“The jacket best serves the Inquisition. If wearing a dress settles the throne, or saves lives, I'd say yes to the dress. The Inquisition isn’t at the Winter Palace so I can wear a pretty gown. We’re trying to stop Corypheus. I make decisions based on my consciousness: what is right, what is wrong, what is best, what needs to be done. Commander, I admire your devotion to the Chantry. Your faith guides you. This is where we differ. I don’t pray to Andraste to tell me what to do. I trust the Maker gave me the knowledge and life experience to make the right choice. Oh, there I go being all serious. Did that answer your question or did I go on again?

Cullen smiles. “Your sarcasm blocks people from really seeing you. I see you. You are rare and wonderful."

“Oh, well. There it is," She says feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable. Ignoring her stumbling she moves on. "Let's return to blocking people with nonsense. So, I answered your question or babbled on again?"

He smiles a bit more, “Still yes.”

Chapter Text

The Winter Palace is wicked business. A populous in peril, a society at stake, yet Cullen finds himself dodging nobles while the Inquisitor and her team dodge demons, daggers and Venatori. Women and men skulking about shooting lascivious looks luring like the desire demon at Kinloch Circle. Offers of marriage, coin for sex. A suggestive “date” in a quiet corner. Bottom-grabbers testing his interest and patience. He'd much rather dodge daggers than admirers.

Maybe overt sexual solicitations are part of Orlais society, but as a faithful of Andraste, the whole business is embarrassing. Fellow Templars misconstrue his refusal to visit brothels. Their right to choose for themselves. He swore service to the Chantry. Should he be worthy, he'll find a woman to give his mind, body and soul. A woman to love who returns that love. A precious dream thought of more and more often.

Cullen is greatly relieved the duchess is finely unmasked as the assassin, working for the glory of Corypheus, of course. The sooner the Inquisition finishes with the palace the better.

After Empress Celene’s speech Cullen steers clear of the celebration. He coordinates help to the injured and oversees soldier’s security duties. The hour is far past the peak of night when he returns to the ballroom only to find the drunken celebration still underway.

No one seems to know the Inquisitor’s location. Under the guise of security he gets Leliana to reveal Evelyn is hiding out on a balcony.

“There you are,” he announces himself, “Everyone’s looking for you. Are you alright?” He reaches out to touch her shoulder. Lately his hand sought her shoulder, back and arm without him thinking about it.

“Rotten to the core.” She says.

“I don’t understand. We saved the Empress and shut down yet another of Corypheus’ insane schemes.”

“It’s The Game,” she explains, “Surprise is a great move, the court wasn't expecting us. We looked like easy pickings. We prevailed, but everyone’s game complicated our every step. Nothing kind or nice or right about it. My parents delighted in playing opponents and friends all to get ahead."

Evelyn stops and steps away from the rail. “Wow. Much too serious. Not supposed to show that side. Let's start over. We foiled an assassination, took out a dangerous Venatori cell, arrested an insane royal cousin and kicked a harlequin Spartan style out a window. All without a single drop of blood on the Empress’s shiny ballroom floor…not saying the kitchen won’t be a surprise, but overall, a good night.”

Cullen notes her humor hints what truly pains her, it’s rare to hear what’s really behind the sarcasm. She should teach him the art of sarcasm so he can talk about his nightmares without letting anyone know about the terrors that stalk him in the night. “I know I shouldn’t, but I was worried for you.”

"Oh, the final battle was pretty tight, but the duchess’s deadly bow couldn’t match Cole’s deadly daggers. Why worry about me?”

“Carnage we expected at Adamant, but the massacre in the servant’s quarter...disturbing. The court and all those nobles have no idea what transpired tonight, but I do. They've no idea how brave you are.”

“There you go again, being nice to me,” Evelyn's nose wrinkles up.

Cullen notes the orchestra is starting a new song. “I probably won’t get another chance like this so I must ask, may I have this dance, my lady?”

"You do remember my noble family disowned me? I'm just an apostate. And I thought you didn’t dance?”

“For you, I’ll try.” Cullen offers his hand. He gently takes her into the middle of the floor. He feels when she surrender to the dance. The night air is cool but he felt a warmth travels over him. Important to note, he did not step on her toes.

She sighs loudly at the very long day, the very difficult evening, and even longer night activities. Do Orlesians ever sleep he wonders? Without warning, she leans against his shoulder.

"Thanks, Commander.”

His breath catches in his throat. Thirty years old and he's never danced with a woman. No woman's treated him in such a tender manner. Evelyn is unlike anyone, good and bad. She has unaddressed personal issues, humor that could harm or charm. She’s unaware of her talent to lead. She can't walk past a person in need without helping. She's generous with her coin. She likes the most intolerable people. She is lovely, heart and soul.

Cullen admonishes himself. He can't think this way, he needs to stop. She is the Inquisitor and the Herald of Andraste. Ahead the Inquisition faces dangerous obstacles. His full attention is needed. She is…a distraction. But she has a calming effect on him, soothing continuing effects of lyrium. She's a friend, a friend he's come to depend upon. But he can't lie, he dreams of more.

He looks down at the woman leaning on his chest, “Falling asleep on me?”

“I’m tired enough, assuming you’d hold me up. Seems a delightful place to sleep.” If she looked up she’d find him blushing.

When the music ends Cullen offers escort to the ball room.

As they enter the palace she says, “Commander, did you notice Josephine glaring at me all evening? She’s still mad I didn’t wear a dress.”

"You should call me Cullen," he says walking at her side.

"Are we friends now?" She asks.

"We've been friends for a while." With her on his arm he goes from blushing to blissful.

.

After the Winter Palace the Inquisition’s reputation grows. All of Thedas looks to the Inquisition's promise to end chaos and restore order. Petitions and requests from cities, nobles, politicians, scholars and elf clans keep Inquisition forces busy with investigations, conflicts, searches, apprehending, and defeating everything from darkspawn to a hack writer. Even the Chantry treats the Inquisition with respect.

During her afternoon conference with Leliana, Evelyn brings up the subject, “The Chantry recognizes the Inquisition so you and Cassandra are rumored candidates for the next Divine." Evelyn then adds very sarcastically, "Maker forbid the Chantry dare consider a mage, even if that mage happens to be the blessed Herald of Andraste.”

“The Chantry looks first to the former Divine's Left and the Right Hand. There may be other candidates. Don't feel slighted. The Chantry holds you in great regard, even as a mage in a very powerful position.” Leliana says.

“Not forgetting that for a second! Dorian asked if there's been attempts on my life.”

“Oh, it’s nothing you need to worry about.” Leliana says.

“Dear Maker, I was just joking. Were there attempts?”

“People with power have risks. Nothing will happen to you. I’m delighted you and the Commander are close. I dare say he has a great interest in your welfare and he's a formidable fighter.”

"The Commander? We're friends sure, but in the back of his mind he thinks I could suddenly transform into an abomination. He'll never look past the magic stuff."

"I don't think you realize how much he admires you." Leliana replies.

“Is there anything you don’t know?” She asks a bit irritated

“As spymaster it's my job to know everything about you. I know you and Cecilia fixed up Master Taigen's old cabin in Haven. Anytime you're returning to Skyhold you stop and stay the night."

“Do you know the color of my socks?”

“Keeping you safe is a job I take very seriously. Not just because you’re the Inquisitor. You’ve done a lot of good and I’ll see you do more in the years to come. And your socks are black.”

"All my socks are black!" Evelyn retorts.

.

Leliana prompts Evelyn to think about the Chantry's future. A new Divine means a restored Chantry and that means bringing back the Circles. According to the Chantry, a mage cannot hold a position of power or office. They'll insist she resign. Her freedom will come to an end. She'll end up in a Circle. She could lose everything she has, everything she wants.

Evelyn heads to Cullen’s office. At this hour a thousand clerks would be wandering through his office. No such thing as an honest conversation with them marching in and out.

She finds Cullen busy at his desk. Since the Winter Palace they spent more time together discussing strategy, eating meals, playing chess and walking the ramparts. He welcomes her conversations and listens to her concerns.

She finds herself thinking about him, thinking too much. Is there an attraction there? Could someone handsome be interested in someone as normal and ordinary as her? He's an ex-templar but no one get's to be an ex-mage? Could he accept her as a mage?

"Can I help you, Inquisitor...Evelyn? Cullen asks from behind his desk happy she's stopped by.

“You look well today. No headache?" She asks absently.

"I'm well. No headache."

"Cullen, when a new Divine is elected the Circles will be restored. Will there be reforms? Ever?" She asks.

"Reforms?"

"You were a templar. You were in Kirkwall. You saw how things were in the Circle. Shouldn't things change?" She stops and looked him straight in the eye. "Do you truly believe I could become an abomination?"

"Any mage can become an abomination."

Evelyn shakes her head, "Because the Chantry says so I'll be watched by templars my entire life. What if the Chantry is wrong? Ostwick Circle kept records tracking abominations. Most abominations happen to initiates before training, often on the trip to the Circle. The second most often it happens is during the Harrowing while a mage is in the fade. Abominations occurring to mages after a Harrowing happened rarely and always under extraordinary circumstances. Like in Kirkwall: extreme emotional situations like abuse, desperation or torture. I experienced cruelty in the Circle, I was tortured by templars, yet I stand here NOT an abomination."

Cullen begins a reply but she isn't finished. "I passed my Harrowing. I don't abuse my magic. I have control of myself yet I am destined to live the rest of my life in the Circle. I can't have a romance, love, marriage, a family, children, chickens or be anything but your friend because the Chantry can't...no won't look at its own records to see what is and isn't so."

Cullen can hardly respond so he goes with... "Chickens? You want chickens?"

"Do you understand, Cullen? I've no hope to be anything but your friend because I am a mage. I am absolutely miserable about that...but still not an abomination. Am I just a mage to you?"

"No, no...you're..." He isn't worthy of this, much as he wishes for it. A long silence hangs between them before he speaks, "Can we take a walk? Maybe clear our heads?"

"Sure." She decides this little talk is going nowhere. What was she thinking?

They leave his office and stroll the ramparts.

“Nice weather we’re having.” He mumbles, nervously rubbing his neck.

“What did you say?”

He stops. "You wanted to speak about...." Walking isn't helping. He is more nervous than ever. "I never imagined... I wasn't sure what I would say in this situation.”

“Situation?” She looks at him a bit confused. This little chat is going terrible. She's an idiot. What is she thinking? She said chickens.

“You’re the Inquisitor and we’re at war…but I want to.” He steps cautiously closer. His eyes focus on her lips, wanting, yet hesitant. Inches seem like miles. The gulf between them so wide. He stops just a foot away from her.

Great Maker, Evelyn wonders, is he thinking of kissing me? Should she say something to break the tension or stand there like a clod? Say something, woman. He's waiting for you to say something!

“I’m still here.” She says. Oh, clever, downright clever. Her heart pounds in her chest. She's completely unnerved as he stares at her lips. Wanting winning over caution she freezes as he moves yet closer, his hands move to her hips. She's faint at the thought of kissing him.

Just then, in a fatally grand comical moment, one of the thousand clerks who constantly walks through his office, one of Leliana’s, proud he can track a nug in the Deep Roads while blind folded, tracks Commander Rutherford far from his office. The clerk holds out the report to Cullen.

Cullen growls at the clerk to take the report to his office but the clerk just stands dumbfounded. Cullen repeats himself, growling louder, followed by a “NOW!”

That’ll kill the moment, Evelyn guesses, icy cold water all over the place. Romance crushed to pieces, dashed on the rocks, chance of kiss zero. He'll run to his office shutting himself away and she won’t see him again until Corypheus falls.

,

Bravery slips from Cullen at the sound of the clerk's voice. What are the chances they'd be interrupted when he painstakingly took the effort to go somewhere private. Cullen is uncertain enough without outside interference. He hears himself growl at the clerk.

Cullen's instincts say to end this foolish effort but he may never have the courage again. They could both die tomorrow in service to the Inquisition. He carelessly throws caution to the wind. He takes her face in his hands and holds her against the wall before she can object. He presses into her lips determined to get that first kiss, the most important kiss of his life. This may be the last opportunity ever or the next interruption will be Corypheus himself.

Mortified of his behavior, he carefully pulls from her lips, shame mixes with a sensation of finally kissing her. Blushing with embarrassment but relieved to accomplish the task he says, “That was nice.”

She looks up a bit dazed yet overwhelmingly euphoric. “If I never see another clerk for the rest of my life I will be happy…and, if it’s not too much to ask, may we try that again? I can’t be sure if that really was a kiss.”

Mortification and shame shed instantly at her request, her permission, her consent. The request he treats seriously. The first kiss is not a kiss anyone would want to remember as their first. He wants to give her a kiss to remember the rest of her life. The first: desperate. The second, just right: a slow full kiss one could accidentally suffocate because body and lips are too busy to breathe and the mind can think of nothing but the kiss.

Cullen feels her melt into his arm. Can anything feel so perfect? He'll savor this moment, this kiss, for the next thousand years. He silently thanks the Maker for sending her to him. He doesn't deserve this yet she is here. Everything is perfect.

It's a good kiss.

Chapter Text

Vivienne’s hand rests on Evelyn’s shoulder like she's mentoring a young student, “Thank you for restoring the stolen tomes. You're truly a friend of the Circle. But more, Inquisitor, you brought me a snowy wyvern’s heart. We gave my dearest Bastien a peaceful death. Your support meant so much during such a precious moment.”

Praise gives way to reminiscing, “Do you know Bastien and I met through the circle? The Wintersent Ball, my first visit to the Imperial Palace. The Circle sent a dozen of us to entertain the nobility. Bastien and I saw each other and it was love at first sight. His wife wanted him killed for slighting her but he didn’t care, he followed me around all evening.”

Her attitude sharpens. “Now he is gone I've gained strong connections to the Council of Heralds and the highest level of the Chantry. Think what the Inquisition could accomplish with such connections.”

Evelyn senses the winding trap. “What do you mean?”

Viviana smiles condescending, “Your actions influence all of Thedas: Your compassion with apostates, inviting templars as equal partners, allowing Grey Wardens to join our ranks while they risk influence from Corypheus. Your actions please the masses.”

“I am famous for second chances.”

Vivienne dives deep into her purpose. “As champion of second chances, I imagine you'll support the Chantry and restoring the Circle of Magi.”

Vivienne hit Evelyn's hot spot. Her patience hits a breaking point, “What are you trying to say, Vivienne?”

The Iron Lady goes full ahead, “What are you implying? That I don’t speak plainly with you? I offer my assistance, Inquisitor. My advantageous position will assist the Inquisition in restoring the Chantry to its just position and return the Circles to their full strength. You know I'm right. We must restore the order and safety of the circles. Great things can happen with your influence and the political weight of my connections.

Evelyn can't maintain her civility, “My Circle entertained nobles, too. I avoided those fancy parties because mages, male and female alike, left virgins and came back sexually experienced. Was your Circle unique in that 'entertainment and parlor tricks' actually involved cards and chess? I hid when templars rounded up pretty mages for those parties.”

Evelyn's patience crashes. “Interesting that most Circles are in towers? Perhaps it's easier to clean up the bodies of mages who jump to their death rather than cleaning up the ones who cut their own throats inside. You know, the Mage's Exit. The day a mage cannot live one more day in the Circle. What options do we have? It's death or tranquility. So we choose self death: The Mages Exit. Truly sorry if you missed all that since you lived on an estate outside the Circle.”

She squares off with Vivienne, “I see where this goes. As Inquisitor I require reform but personally, between you and me, burning every Circle to the ground is a secret wish of mine…but then templars once tortured me. Shall I show you the scars on my back? Do I go too far? Do you see how I feel? Reform is my only position.”

Vivienne responds unflinching, “My dear, its always a revelation to speak to you.”

.

Evelyn storms all the way to Cullen’s office. She is red in the face when he greets her. He couldn't think of the last time she was this upset. She needs a pounce, not him.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“No. Can’t talk about it because if I’m honest I’ll break. I need to crawl under some blankets and try not to be anyone for a while. Can I borrow your loft?”

He puzzles. “Under a blanket?"

"Darkness and quiet clears my head. It's a thing." Evelyn thinks for a moment then says in a perfectly calm manner, “Want to eat supper later?”

Cullen nods yes. “Wait, before you disappear under a blanket, I’ve Inquisition business in Fereldan. If you have a few spare days would you like to go?”

“When?” She asks as if she can't wait to get anywhere Vivienne isn't.

“First thing in the morning? A break if just for a few days."

She nods yes, then disappears into the loft.

.

As the dinner hour nears, Cullen climbs up the ladder. She feels the blanket slide off until she sees an amused Cullen standing at the end of the bed.

"Feeling better?" Cullen asks smiling and very amused.

"Only place to be alone in the Circle. Bonus: no demons allowed. Dinner time?"

Cullen nods. The two leave his office and head to the tavern. Cassandra catches them outside, asks to speak to Evelyn.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but may we speak a moment?

Cullen leaves the two to talk. Cassandra walks her to a quiet alcove. Evelyn notices the Seekers of Truth's Book of Secrets recovered from the deceased Lord Seeker on the table. "Heavy reading?"

"On the contrary, it's a delight. I am riveted." Cassandra says.

"And some think me the master of sarcasm." Evelyn replies.

"You know what the Rite of Tranquility is, of course. The last resort used on mages in the Circle. Leaving them unable to cast but depriving them of dreams and emotions."

"Every mage's nightmare. Mages have no say over its use, no recourse against a corrupt system who would use it as they see fit."

"It was intended only for mages unable to control their abilities. But as you say, that is not always the case. Seekers are tasked into looking into abuses such as using the Rite as punishment. You are aware that Divine Justina investigated the Rite of Tranquility? The proof it could be reversed was presented to the meeting of First Enchanters."

"The mage rebellion started at Kirkwall but the Lord Seeker Lambert's attack at that very meeting brought in the powder keg. Suddenly it's very clear why that all happened." Evelyn's response is icy cold.

"The Rite is part of a ritual to become a Seeker. Candidates go through a month long vigil emptying themselves of all emotion, making them tranquil. The vigil then summoned a spirit of faith to touch the candidate's mind. That broke tranquility and gave us our abilities.

"The Seekers did not share this secret, not with me, not with the Chantry. The Seekers created the Rite and knew how to reverse it from the beginning. Time corrupted the Seeker's purpose. Now that the Seekers fall to me, I am not sure if they deserve to be rebuilt." Cassandra stood and looked out the window.

Evelyn cannot sort her feelings. The Conclave was an attempt to fix the Seeker's actions. No wonder templars think mages blew up the Temple of Ashes and the mages believe the Templar's did. But it wasn't either group. Now the Inquisition races to undo the chaos. "Only you can make that decision." Evelyn says.

"Of course. I'll consider it. First I must find the Seekers, if they are still out there. We would all read this book. No secrets. Thank you, Inquisitor."

Outside Honnleath
The evening’s darkness cast an intimate scene over the quiet pond. The night sky felt more calm and inviting than Cullen remembered. This place brought him peace and he wants to share it with Evelyn.

“This is so lovely," she says, "And this old rickety pier. Definitely putting my feet in the water. Is there anything dangerous in there?” Not waiting on a response she heads to the end of the pier.

“This was a favorite swimming spot growing up, it was safe back then.” He smiles at her delight.

“You lived here?” She questions as she tugs off her boots.

“My family lived near here when I was a boy, before I joined the templars. My family was very noisy. I’d come here when I wanted to clear my head. You’re in danger every day and I wanted to take you away from all that if only for a moment.

Undaunted by the marshy waters, she dips toes into the depths sending ripples across the surface. “Anytime there’s a lake by a camp I find myself doing this. Ponds are calming. Blackwall gets it, living on the road so many years. Drives everyone else crazy. Vivienne would die before putting a foot in pond water.” She kicks her feet in the water unfettered by the cold. She takes her time, enjoying time away from chaos.

“So quiet. A rare moment to be alone.” She says as she requests help to stand. Three months passed since their first kiss. He doesn't ask for more but no complains from her. She is happy with their simple relationship, no need to complicate what becomes complicated with a mage. “You’ve seen mages at their worse. Yet you're out here all alone with one. Does it bother you I am a mage? Do you fear the magic in me?”

“I don’t. If I’ve given you reason to doubt… Of course I have. Whatever I fear of magic, I see none of that in you." He takes a coin out of his pocket. "Last time I was here was the day I left for templar training. My brother gave me this coin. For luck, he said. Templars are not supposed to carry such things. Our faith should see us through”

"Templar Rutherford breaking Chantry rules?"

“Until a year ago I was very good at following orders most of the time. Humor me. We don’t know what you’ll face before the end. This can’t hurt.” He places the coin in her palm and wraps his hands over hers.

“Twice you defied the Chantry.” She says provoking a quizzical look that says he doesn't understand.

“The Chantry wouldn’t approve of a lucky coin or fraternizing with a mage.”

Cullen pulls her close. “I’m not asking for their approval. Just yours.”

"That was incredibly sappy sweet. It's almost embarrassing."

"I can stop."

"Absolutely not. I'll take all the sappy sweet you can give me."

She wonders if he knows that everything he says goes straight to her heart. By loving her he tells the Chantry they're wrong, that mages can love someone and be loved in return. This isn't a ten minute circle relationship, a tryst in the dark, an opportunity between templars walking in the hall.

No clerks, no templars. Just them. She needs this.

For the next six weeks Evelyn is away from Skyhold. The Inquisition shut down a mining operation at Empries du Lion where red lyrium was being made from people. The desiccated bodies consumed by red lyrium horrified her. It made slaying the demon overseer so much easier: Ishmael isn't spared the fire, even if he had a particular humor as twisted as her own.

Interrupting the red lyrium operation is a huge victory over Corypheus. Disrupting production puts great pressure on the monster's efforts. It makes everything she did as Inquisitor more relevant, more urgent. In a world gone mad since the Conclave exploded, the Inquisition is making a difference.

The Inquisition gives her purpose, every moment directed to a singular goal: destroy Corypheus. The whole of Thedas gathers behind, joining the directive. The effort grows every day, her companions doubling their resolve. She drives herself. The Inquisition is a juggernaut to its cause.

Cullen makes it bearable. Never pushing, never demanding, he feels safe. The trip back from Empries du Lion she finds she can't wait to see him. The evening her team arrived she skips supper. She walks with purpose to his office.

Passing quietly through the open door, it is very late a line of clerks gathering reports leaving even more in their place. Cullen issues orders, directs efforts. His eyes are bright, his skin healthy. He has more and more good days. Cassandra and others notice.

His face brightens when he sees her leaning by the door. Didn't expect to see her so soon. She usually stops to eat and rest. He quickly turns to the clerks to settle their business.

“If you’re busy I can come back tomorrow.” She offers.

“Stay. I’ll be done in just a moment. Food on the desk if you're hungry.” He points to a tray of food and a bottle of wine.

Her stomach growls, she's famished. She picks a lovely red pear. "Anything for you?"

He shrugs his shoulders. “I'm fine. Just relax. Almost done."

Cullen threw himself into work since she left for Empries du Lion, always when she's away from Skyhold. It’s a relief when she returns safely. She changed everything for him. She is a powerful tonic in his recovery.

Cullen escorts the clerks out the door. They're finely alone. “How are you?”

Evelyn jumps up on the desk. “Better now. Empries du Lion was a nightmare. I'm glad to be back."

Cullen considers the pear come between him and a much wanted kiss. Chantry teachings keep him from grabbing the pear and stealing a kiss. He is first a gentleman.

“This is delicious,” She bites into the tender pear that burst with sweetness.

His mind wanders as he watches her enjoy the pear. "This war won't last forever. I hadn't thought what I would do after. I wonder what will happen after, where we'll go. I mean I won't want to move on from you... but I don't know what you want."

Evelyn knows what the future holds for a mage. No guarantee that Circles would be reformed. Still, she's is sure of one other thing. "I want to be with you."

The answer eased a binding around his heart. She's become so important to him. Center in his life. He wonders if she feels the same. He can't ask and he's afraid to say it himself. "Evelyn..."

"Oops!" Giggles erupt when peach juice started running down her chin. “Napkin!”

He not a man of much gaiety but he delights in her laughter over such an awkward moment. In seconds, his sober in-control self reduces to a guy with the woman he adores. He grins ridiculously as he retrieves a napkin.

The sharp sound of breaking glass interrupts the revelry as a bottle falls from the desk. The moment's whimsy halts, he's overcome by awkwardness. “Sorry.” If he says more it would be all stuttering.

Her hand reaches out catching his arm. “Don't worry, we're both in boots. Unless we're planning on running barefooted around the desk.”

Her warm eyes reaffirmed him, brings him back to the warmth between them. He takes the napkin and dabs it along her chin. Without thought his lips attend to the pear juice clinging to her lips. Pears are instantly his favorite fruit. That sweet taste pushes beyond months of gentle kissing. His whole life held back by teachings that say a man saves himself for the right woman. A man declares his intentions, ask for blessings, and, before Andraste and the Maker, makes a promise. In that moment he knows she's that woman.

She delights sharing the taste of pear. This isn't hiding in a Circle nook stealing a moment of intimacy. Here, outside the circle, she has Cullen, she has freedom to love.

A life of Chantry restrictions, templar rules crumble. Unrestrained, Cullen makes up for lost time. His kisses engulf her mouth and her mouth holds nothing back. Kisses are impatient, bites on lips, tasting skin, growing sensations moving them forward. A perilous heat swims through bodies.

Once again propriety stops Cullen. He pulls back, takes a moment to understand what passes between them. His hands take her face, his eyes try to convey the importance of the moment.

“Tell me this is alright. Tell me what you want.”

"I think," her voice slightly breathless, her eyes sparkle, "Once doors are locked... There's time and options.”

Her take on the situation makes Cullen grin. She has a knack for easing any doubts. "Right...lock doors."

They grudgingly part. Cullen races to lock three doors.

He finds eagerness linger in her eyes when he returns. She wants him as much as he wants her. He takes her hands and kisses her affectionally .

She gently unclasps his fur trimmed mantle, slipping it from around his shoulders, letting it fall to the desk. His hand brush across her face, intertwines into her hair. He pulls her against him, kissing once again, rekindle the shared warmth. Three months with her. Evelyn feeds his soul, makes him forget his troubles. Her presence softens his pains.

A large ridiculous smile crosses his face. He reaches behind and swiftly pushes everything off the desk, paperwork scatters across the floor. He pushes her further up the desk, pulls her across the top, crawls up alongside her. He falls across her, pressing against. He chases the taste of pear through every crevice of her mouth.

Evelyn looses herself to him. His moans resonate to her core. She waited so long for this, for him. She feels his insistent and impatient kisses. His weight and strength upon her.

He's pressed fully against her. His dominance arouses her, yet she's cautiously aware of the templar within. Has he put aside the Order? Twenty years cannot be set aside so easily. She closes her eyes, surrenders: he would never hurt her. She pushes the thought of templars to the back of her mind.

Her bare hands feel cold armor keeping her from warm flesh. Cullen assaults her senses with kisses along the neck, tasting lightly salty skin with gentle nips, his stubble brushes harsh against soft skin. She feels for buckles on his armor. When his tongue finds her ear she nearly looses mind and soul. She involuntarily pushes up against him only to have him push his weight back on her.

Stunned, she knocks on his armor calling urgently, "Cullen!"

He reluctantly stops the assault on her ear, "Everything alright?"

"Armor, crushing me...sometimes not pleasantly."

He hadn't noticed. His weight and armor pressing upon her. He sits up and pieces of armor fall to the floor. She had, while caught beneath him, unbuckled everything. Chest armor, shoulder and arm pieces, all clank nosily to the floor.

"Points for me!" She grins and begins laughing. Cullen tries not to laugh, but he does. She has that effect on him.

Armor aside and leg pieces kicked off, he returns to her arms. "Better?" He asks.

"Much, thank you."

She is lovely laying beneath him, very tempting. Yet very dressed.

Before he says anything she tugs the shirt from his trousers and with his help lifts it over his head. He is slow unfastening her shirt.

"I thought all Circle Templars undressed in record time."

"Not practiced at any of this. Bottom of the ranks at the Circle. Hope that doesn't bother you." Templars don't fraternize with mages is a rule he never broke. Never. Until now.

"Why would it? Oh... Wait..," She catches t his hands and moves them from her shirt. She stars at him shirtless, trousers hung low on hips. "Maker!"

"What? Is something wrong?" Except for a few scars, he's confident that physically he's like most other men.

She hums in appreciation. "Varric said this was worth my time." Her face flushes. "Oh, I must see more of this."

Her hand drops to his navel. Anticipation builds as she wanders toward nervous territory. He freezes. No one, except him, has ever.... He sighs loudly.

"Are you okay? I can't help my self. I must explore. I have time to explore."

"Yes. Yes, um. I'm not used to... I mean yes, I want you to... It's fine, fine..." Words trail off as his ability to speak is lost. He wants this, yes?. He resigns himself to say little less he embarrass himself. He clears his throat.

She grins unashamed. "I must spend time with...this...chest."

"You're embarrassing me." He rests his head against her forehead.

"Such modesty." She says as her hands wraps around his back and pull him against her.

"You're having fun at my expense." Cullen says as the red on his face recedes.

"I try." She grins. "Never time to experience myself but inspired by this...chest."

Why, why had he waited so long for this? He remembers why. He was waiting for her, for the right woman. He feels awkward yet wondrous. He wants to be considerate but can hardly wait. He has more to give. She deserve more.

"So..." She seductively interrupts his musings.

How he's held back all these months he has no idea, but dear Maker, he wants her. He wants to be here more than anywhere else in Thedas.

"Up to the loft? Or the desk. Should be loft. Um...I can't decide. Can it be both?" He says shyly.

A crooked grin spreads across her face. He couldn't help but respond in kind.

The Herald of Andraste, the leader of the Inquisition, his Evelyn says, "Such a romantic. I think both."

Chapter Text

Evelyn wakes surrounded by a warm masculine scent. In a world that confines mages for life, detention with no chance of love, a future without family or children, all this should be a dream forgotten the moment she wakes, yet she feels legs entangled with hers and hands nestled by her shoulder. She breaths deep his scent intermingled with white cotton sheets. She could live in that scent. She gently pulls away. Templars who fall asleep during watch often jump violently pulling swords if woken suddenly. Could be a lyrium thing. Never startle a sleeping templar.

Cullen wakes to find her sitting bedside buttoning her shirt. He can't remember the last time he woke feeling so good. “Good morning.”

She leans back for a kiss, her hand against his chest, “Morning to you.”

He gently takes her arm, “Leaving already? It must be early.”

Evelyn stands up by the bed. “It’s later than you think.”

Sheets gather as he moves closer. “Stay. I’d like you to stay.” He gently pulls her close.

She sighs loudly. “This is so much. Much more... more time... More everything.”

“I don't understand.” He says.

She smooths his now curly hair. “I've never felt anything like this…ever. In the Circle its... Everything impersonal, little connection, not touching, not feeling this."

“So this is good? We're alright?”

“All of Thedas waits outside for us to conquer a would-be-god…but I can’t think past this... chest." She runs fingers across his chest. "If I think of you today I may forget to breathe.”

Fingers gliding across his chest brings back feelings from that rare place. Cullen pulls her gently into his lap for a kiss. "I have never felt like this. You are...

“Late for a morning briefing." She stands, kisses him on top of his head and steps to the ladder. "I got to go. I'll see you later. Tavern after the War Council?”

He reluctantly watches her descend. “Okay.”

She calls from below, “By the way, four people knocked on the door this morning. If you’re not up soon someone may break it down to see if you're okay. I’ve been missing since dinner so one knock belonged to the Herald is Missing search party.” She opens the door and leaves.

Cullen lays back down and closes his eyes. His hand runs across his chest where she touched him. She left a trail of warmth and his hand follows that trail. She woke him from a lifeless existence. She woke his body in a way he had never felt before.

Cassandra interrupts Evelyn’s afternoon walk to the War Room. “No War Council today. Vivienne brought unexpected guests from Val Royeaux.”

“Yep, she caught me by surprise. Bastien’s son, Duke Laurent of the Council of Heralds and Bastien’s sister, Gran Cleric Marcelline. Proper introductions, a few words of praise. No doubt they're appraising their new real estate holding. Knew she’d sell Skyhold from under me. Before we parted, Vivienne thanked me for making a good impression, in spite of myself.”

“The Inquisitor was hilarious, that’s what they’ll say one day, you watch.” Cassandra laughs in reply.

“You poke fun at my wit yet I bow before the master. If you don't mind, may I have a serious moment?” Evelyn asks.

“Of course, always.”

“When I first got here I asked if you'd send me back to the Circle after all this. You said you didn’t know. So I ask, when the Circles are restored, will you send me there?”

“You assume the Circles will be restored.”

“Can't imagine another scenario. Mages weren’t freed, we rebelled. We’re apostates. Thedas isn’t ready for a neighbor capable of reducing a child to ashes for playing too loud. The only talk circulating is how soon the Circles are restored.”

“Dispensations are granted to live or study outside the Circle.”

“Under Chantry supervision, with time limits. The only mage I know granted permanent freedom from the Circle was Wilhelm, the mage who served under Maric during the Ferelden rebellion. Besides him, I found no other mage the Chantry allowed a family.”

“You’ve put thought into this.”

“Vivienne gathers connections to reinstate the Circles. Putting me into a restored Circle solidifies her political might. So, yes, I’m considering how to decorate my future dormitory.”

"You think too much of this. You're obsessed." Cassandra knows the Herald's preoccupation with the Circle.

"The Circle defines my life. I can't put that aside and decide it's not important. I'm not wondering if I'll return to the Circle, I am wondering when."

Evelyn walks from Cassandra thinking she should appreciate her short time with the Inquisition. What did the Apostate spirit healer tell her? Mages are good at brief.

The Iron Bull spots the Inquisitor entering the tavern. Needing a moment to speak with her he waves until he catches her attention. She's here on important business but he has some information for her. She'll not understand how important, at least not yet. She's smart, she'll figure it out.

"How's my favorite body guard? What can I do for you?" She asks the Iron Bull.

“Got some puzzle pieces for you, boss. First puzzle piece: Vivienne heads a mage spy network.”

“To help mages?” She guesses.

“To help her.” The Iron Bull tutors.

“What does that mean?”

“That’s the nature of a puzzle piece, Boss. Alone they mean little. You'll know when it means something.”

“A tip from Ben-Hassrath?”

“No, I'm Tal-Vashoth, not with the Qun. Got this puzzle piece from my personal spy network.”

“I don’t have a personal spy network! Great maker, when would there be time to manage one?"

“You have Leliana and me. People with agendas have spy networks. That’s why I like you, Boss. You don’t have an agenda, you have a goal. Your second puzzle piece is The Second Floor. That's all. You owe me a dragon fight. Have a nice day.” Such an easy face to read, he thinks. A little line forms by her left eye brow when she thinks. He watches her look around the first floor. Then...yep, the wonderful moment she understands the second clue...she gives him an appreciating smile. Yep, she's in love. 'bout time. He better deserve her.

On the second floor, Cullen tapping fingers nervously on the table. Everything should have gone different. From the moment she bit into that pear until she left this morning, everything was rushed, unplanned. A first time should be special: romance, flowers.....but not what happen last night.

She finds Cullen but doesn't get a second to sit down before he speaks, “Are we okay? I mean, it just happen. I should have... I'm not very good at this.”

"You were wonderful. I smiled all day. Smiled way too much.”

“It should have been special.”

“It was. Mages aren’t allowed romantic relationships. We can't fall in love. Only friends. Everything else hidden, ten minutes at a time. I got bits and pieces. Nothing like last night. Never a connection. I want that. While on the run the apostate healer and I connected, could have been something, but there wasn’t time. For mages there is never time.”

“So what do you want?” He asks.

“Time to really experience love and all the cake and candles that go with it. Not to be told I can’t because I am a mage. I'm fear the consequences. Vivienne’s determined to restore the Circles. I asked if the Circles were restored would I be required to go. She said, ‘Of course you would, my dear, you're a mage.’ My skin crawled for days. If I go back I lose everything. I lose you.”

“It won’t happen.”

“The Circles? Don't be naïve, Commander Rutherford. Our job is to restore order to Thedas: Stabilize Orlais, restore the Chantry, and in turn they restore the Circles. Put mages back in the tower. If you haven't noticed, I'm a mage."

“Then what do you want, Evelyn?"

"Want but can't have? I don’t want this anchor on my hand. I don’t want to be worshiped as a prophet or a savior. I want to wake up in your arms, make love until dawn. Spend the morning, cup of tea in hand, looking over a quiet pond. A simple life." She shakes her head. "Ugh, out loud that sounds even more impossible. Since that’s just a dream, tell me that no matter what comes you'll always be my friend.”

"I promise always to be your friend." He takes her hand, “I promise I'll always be there for you.”

He isn't finished. “Now, my turn, right? You’ve been on my mind since Cassandra brought you to the ruins with that terrible haircut. You...this is what I want. You’re everything I hope for. You believe in me when I don't believe in me. You made my recovery possible. Promise you'll never give up on me. I promise I will not give up on you. Now, I have a suggestion.”

“I am listening.”

“A round of chess or join our friends for Wicked Grace? Josephine may win my clothes again forcing you to stare at my shirtless chest while everyone looks on. Or, take off my shirt somewhere private?” He teases.

Evelyn groans but can't hold back a smile, “You are a wicked, wicked man. You know I must have that chest.”

“So alone and off with the shirt?” He offers devilishly.

“Oh, absolutely," she counters, "I insist. My room, bring snacks.”

Chapter Text

Basket of food and a bottle of wine in hand, Cullen knocks on the Inquisitor suite before he enters. His face is flush. The past twenty four hours are possibly the best of his life. He can't remember being so happy.

He finds her sitting on the bed with a large book in her lap, and from what he can see, wearing only a loose white shirt. How is it he deserves this?

She greets him with a delightful smile. Putting the wine and basket on the side table, leans over to kiss her forehead. “What's the book?”

“Corypheus and the Venatori are obsessed with Elven artifacts so Solas suggested I do some research. Lent me this rare text on elven ruins. Come, sit. I'm near a stopping point. Get comfortable.” She returns to her reading.

Comfortable is removing armor and footwear leaving a light shirt and trousers. If he undressed any further it would be impossible not to toss the book aside and jump into her arms. He wants this night to count. With a simple gesture he requests room to sit beside her, “I'll read over your shoulder.”

She happily provides him room next to her. He settles down with his body pressed next to her. She relaxes against his chest like a comfortable chair. How is it their relationship changed so quickly from a polite, appropriate courtship to him being unable to keep his hands off her?

She notes that this new intimacy demands close contact. Their bodies draw to the other like magnets. This is why Circle mages in love consider suicide rather than suffering the agonizing need to touch and love what is two feet away. Mages in love are often separated into different circles. In Kirkwall, as confirmed by Hawke and Varric, some suffer the Rite of Tranquility.

Content as she rests on his chest, Cullen enjoys her scented hair. “Is it helpful?”

“I hope. Looking for references to ruins in Orlais or any associated with Mythal. Our so-much-smarter-than-us advisers, Solas and Morrigan, aren’t so forthcoming. My once dear friend Solas is guarded, like a lion waiting for its prey. Morrigan, I believe, has a hidden agenda. Worries me.” She turns the page.

Cullen's hands wandered gently, friendly. He pulls her shirt off one shoulder.

She snaps, “Hey, I need to read this.” Evelyn scans a few more pages. His restless hands brushing against her bare skin is difficult to ignore. She closes the book and sets it aside.

Opportunity at hand he mischievously tugs the shirt farther off her shoulder. He runs his hand down her back causing her to abruptly move away. A dark expression crosses her face.

Cullen puzzles at her reaction. “The scars bother you that much?"

“Permanent reminder for the rest of my life of who I am, where I belong. Don't know what's worse, the scars or the fourteen years of abuse. Scars make me remember. And big bonus, they're ugly.”

“The scars don't make you ugly or undesirable. I think Orlesian women wear beautiful dresses hoping beauty rubs off on them. Outrageous hair style makes them extraordinary, ridiculous shoes turn eyes their way. You're not like them. You are wonderful, kind and beautiful from within. My heart beats faster when you're around. You take my breath away.” He whispers into her ear, “I soar when you're near. I see you, not the scars. Someday I hope you see that."

He pulls her to his chest, kissing her as if she is the most precious gift in the world. "I'll be here for you. I promise."

"I know." She says.

"Am I wrong to do this?"

She shakes her head. "Sometimes it's hard not to scream. My scars will never go away, but maybe they bother me a little less. Don't think there is getting over torture."

"You're right. My scars are invisible. Kinlock, imprisoned and tortured. I've never felt so lost and alone. Want to forget, let memories disappear, but they don't, ever. Torture....never goes away."

"Few understand like we understand." She says.

"Its been a very long time since I wanted someone in my life. I... Is there anything you need?” He asks.

“You. I just need you.” She returns to his embrace, settling against his chest. They hold onto each other as if this is their single refuge in all Thedas.

Cullen wakes to a shirtless Evelyn sitting bedside. She's reaches around trying to touch the scars. She tries over her shoulder, by the side.

She senses him watching. “Never touched the scars. Couldn’t. Imagined raised bubbly, crusted flesh. My mind made the scars monstrous. That day…the templars… I hated myself for being so stupid. I didn’t fight the templars or even try, I just let them... I was the obedient mage. Let them punish me for defying the Chantry."

“You cannot blame yourself. The Chantry fell apart. Lost control of the templars. Circles rebelled. You didn’t cause this.”

“Yes, everything fell apart and the Inquisition chases a mad man. Where does that leave us?””

“With a little more time this morning for us.” He pulls her back to the bed his chest. Kisses her with great affection. When he opens his eyes her face is calm. So rare to see her this calm. Andraste truly blessed him. He presses his forehead to hers.

"How is it I feel like this with you? Like I can overcome all my troubles. It's a peace I've never felt." Nothing reduces her troubles and stress, nothing...but Cullen.

“I’ve never felt like this," Cullen wispers, "...you are...”

“I love you.” She says.

He doesn't miss it. She said it. “I love you, too. We have time, yes?”

“I have a judgment this afternoon. Until then, I am yours.”

“I’ve grown quite fond of pears.” He brings her back on the bed and lays over her, “The kitchen put a pear in the basket especially for you.”

“I noticed. Almost makes me blush because...” Her hand travels across his chest and down toward more interesting territory.

Chapter Text

“Inquisitor,” Josephine stands before a crowd in the throne room. Evelyn sits patiently as a man wearing a worn mage coat and tattered shoes walks face down to his judgement.

“Today we bring before you the infamous Anders, the apostate who blew up the Kirkwall Chantry. He killed hundreds including Grand Cleric Elthina. He started the Mage Rebellion.”

Two guards roughly stop the man at the bottom step. The prisoner lifts his face to meet his judge. Evelyn turns ghostly white. She stares speechless for an uncomfortable time. Abruptly she stands.

She turns to Josephine, “Clear the hall.”

Confused, Josephine asks, “Excuse me, Inquisitor, what did you say?”

Evelyn repeats plainly, “You heard me. Clear. The hall. NOW!”

Around the hall people mumble to each other. Josephine freezes unsure of what to do.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Evelyn steps closer to the crowd, eyes sweeping the hall, her voice loud and threatening. “Everyone. Clear. The hall. RIGHT NOW.”

People move to the doors and those hesitating find the Inquisitor gazes directly at them, her eyes demand their exit. She addresses soldiers stationed around the hall. “Guards, escort these people out, then stand ready outside the door. No one enters except at my word. Is that clear?"

Josephine’s eyes widen, “Inquisitor?”

“You stay, and the prisoner and his guards.” She looks to the guards holding Anders, “You, guard, get Sister Leliana. NOW!”

Josephine stares, “Inquisitor?”

Evelyn glares back, “Ambassador, not now. Wait for Leliana.”

She instructs the second guard to pull up a chair for prisoner. Anders promptly collapses on the chair.

“Thank you. See to the prisoner’s cell. Make sure it’s clean. Find him a clean change of clothes. Make sure he's scheduled for a meal. When you are done, please return.”

The guard hesitates. He shouldn't leave the prisoner but his next order may be less kind.

Evelyn stands quiet until Leliana arrives. She points at Anders, “Leliana, are you aware of this?”

Leliana gives no hint of emotion, “I knew Anders would appear for judgement today."

“How long has he been in Inquisition custody?”

Leliana continues, fact to fact, “Total? Three weeks on the road and two days here.”

Evelyn’s eyes darken, “Gossip spreads like wildfire in Skyhold so why does no one know, especially me?”

“Anders is a high risk prisoner.” She explains, “We gave false word the prisoner was a Venatori mage.”

“Who else besides you and Josephine know he’s here?” Evelyn's tone is dangerous.

“Orlais sent us a tip about Anders. Inquisition forces picked him up near Sulcher’s Pass. We've had additional correspondence from Orlais and Ferelden concerning the prisoner.” Liliana explains.

“So I’m hearing for the first time that Anders is in Inquisition custody, here at Skyhold and you’ve known for more than three weeks?” She nears a point, “Care to explain this to me?”

“He is a security risk. So no, I hadn’t thought to inform you.”

Evelyn is unsatisfied, “And yet every head of state from Ferelden to Orlais knows about Anders except for the Inquisitor. We will discuss this later.”

“Josephine, about that announcement. You declared Anders guilty in your first sentence…what am I to judge him on? His shoes? Anders is solely responsible for the Mage Rebellion. Your words? Ignorant, uninformed people say this…or people with an agenda, or someone being used. We’ll talk later about where you fall.”

“Subterfuge, manipulation, false information, deception: I'll not be handled and if you don’t know that you are poor judge of my character. Take the afternoon. Get your story straight. I want the truth or so help me I’ll take the prisoner to the Tevinter Imperium and give him his freedom. You're both dismissed.”

The guard checking Ander’s cell returns. “I’ve seen to the prisoner.”

“Thank you. Would you go to the kitchen and bring a meal and water for the prisoner? We’ll be here when you return.”

“But Inquisitor, you'll be alone with him.” He is obedient to his duty.

“The prisoner's so malnourished I could put him on the ground by yelling. Go on.” Evelyn waits until the guard exits the hall.

The prisoner looks up with cautious and grateful eyes, “That’s who I remember. Sharp, angry yet driven with apologies.”

“Never knew your name.” Her whole manner softens as she steps down and unties his wrists.

“You were never to know. ‘Anders’ is a wanted man. Try to keep up with events. What a surprise to hear you are the Herald of Andraste and now Inquisitor.”

“I never wanted this.” she says.

“When does a mage get what we want? Wasn't sure I'd live through the last few weeks. I have few friends in this world, it is good to speak with one of them."

She thinks in retrospect, trying to figure out how this situation came to be. “Someone put great effort to put you in front of me. Trying to discredit the Inquisition? Any judgement is doom. A mage executes the hero of the Kirkwall rebellion – Doom. A mage frees mass murder off with a slap on the wrist – Doom. Prisoner escapes – Inquisition is weak. – Doom. Someone plays the Game with you in the middle.”

“An impossible situation. I accepted my fate a long time ago. Since Kirkwall I’ve kept busy, helping, atoning in small ways, waiting for this moment. Death or life in prison. I don’t want either but I accept whatever you must do. Or, if you need a personal servant or scribe, I’ll look busy long enough for everyone to forget me."

A smile passes across her face, “Oh, stop. Don't worry. You're under my protection. You'll be cared for, with dignity, until we figure this out. Apparently my job is to shift through shitty situations.”

War Council
Anders safely in his cell, Evelyn spends the next few hours composing herself and thinks about the situation.

She arrives in advance of the council, preferring to watch others arrive rather than be glared at as she steps in the door. Leliana and Josephine arrive together and remained quiet. Cassandra and Cullen arrive next. By the blissful look on Cullen’s face, possibly unaware of events just several hours past. Evelyn speaks quickly before everyone settles.

“My behavior was atrocious, unprofessional. I treated you in a manner unbecoming of my position. As a courtesy, I will not attempt to justify myself.”

Cullen realizes he's missing something. “Something happen at the judgement? No one said anything.”

“We understand that you are guarded when it comes to the Circle…” Josephine offers.

“You cleared the room before you lost your temper.” Leliana says.

“That’s minimizing it.” Evelyn replies. “How I feel must wait. Anders is the subject. More is going on than we see.”

Cullen's eye twitches. “Anders? Anders is here?”

Josephine catches Cullen up, “Anders was brought before the Inquisition for judgment. The Inquisitor stopped everything and cleared the room. Now you know as much as we do.”

Leliana returns to the subject of Anders, “Do you want to start or shall I?”

"I'll start." Evelyn begins an uneasy confession. “You need to know something. I know Anders. Personally. He was with the apostates who saved me. You know the story: Templars tortured me, apostates showed up, killed all the templars, took me for healing. Anders was the spirit healer who fixed me up. I never knew his name. While I was with the apostates, he and I, Anders, became close.”

“No, no…” The blood in Cullen's face drains away. It looks as if his whole life crashed into a thousand hopeless pieces. A knife sinks deep into his heart and then twists. It's written across his face: he's devastated.

Evelyn hadn't considered the effect on Cullen but in a split second she sees it in his eyes. Despite the consequences, she must continue. “For a brief time Anders and I had a comforting emotional relationship. I’ve never shared that with anyone. If someone has or gets this information, it could be used to manipulate me or hurt the Inquisition, therefore you need to know.”

“That's a surprise and I am rarely surprised.” Leliana admits.

“This is about a mage Inquisitor judging the apostate Anders. Anders is in front of the Inquisition to the benefit of an outside party.” Evelyn says.

Leliana is horrified she missed it, “We've been blindsided. Postponing judgement was wise. We need to figure out the motive behind this.”

“Thoughts?” Evelyn looks around the table.

“This is about politics, right Leliana?” Josephine asks.

“This is the Game and Anders is a pawn.” Leliana deducts.

“It's a set up.” Josephine agrees.

Evelyn nodded, “Absolutely. This is meant to damage the Inquisition.”

Leliana looks closer at the events. “Had anyone else found Anders he be dead, not captured. For some reason the Orlesian soldiers who found him didn't kill him, they had orders to give him to the Inquisition. Right there is evidence outside influence is at play. Who benefits from Anders capture?”

Evelyn looks to Leliana, “Who sent the tip about Anders?”

“Orlais through correspondence. Naturally I wrote back to the Empress acknowledging the tip. Her response was unusual. She wrote little, which is unlike the Empress. She usually writes several paragraphs praising the Inquisition. If someone else handled the correspondence she may not know about Anders. The inquisition acting without her acknowledgment could be used against us.”

“Manipulation is at play. You and Cullen had dealings with Anders?” Evelyn asks.

“The Divine sent me to Kirkwall to investigate a threat. Met Anders when I spoke to Hawke. After what happen in Kirkwall I admit I loathed the man. Secretly I hoped you'd execute him. Forgot that you don't execute anyone. I am being manipulated. As are you, Commander.”

Cullen's voice booms uncontrolled, “I want justice for Kirkwall so that means I am being manipulated?”

“This outrage and anger says someone did a right good job.” Leliana says but she understands every bit of Cullen's anger.

His rage continues directed at Evelyn, “Plainly I’ve been kept in the dark.”

“This is familiar." Leliana says, "Just like when we found you imprisoned in the Circle Tower. Don’t. This isn’t about magic or mages or a malificar."

Reminder of his torture sinks deep into his being and a heat rises. “You don’t know how I feel.” His says in a terse, compacted anger.

“This is about the Inquisition. Our influence threatens someone.” Evelyn tries shifting the conversation away from Cullen. Her personal feelings must wait.

“Hand Anders over to the Chantry for his role in Kirkwall." Cullen's anger becomes a desperate plea. "Get him out of here before he hurts anyone else.”

“As head of the Inquisition, I decide. We do nothing in haste. We gather information, check in with our allies. The Inquisition cannot be dragged down or destroyed for acting blindly. We act as the Inquisition should, we are here to restore order and sanity.”

Leliana turns to Cullen, “Commander, do you have something to add?

“Nothing.” Cullen simmers with no expression.

“Then to work." Leliana takes lead, "Someone's queen is threatened so Anders is the sacrifice to win. A dangerous game we play.”

"Oh, Great Maker and his Bride!" The revelation hits Evelyn. She knows the catalyst. "The Iron Bull gave me something, handed me a puzzle piece. Remind me to buy him a dragon."

"And?" Leliana prompts.

"We look at Vivienne."

Leliana's mouth drops. "We know Vivienne joined for her own personal gain. Now her game is in play. Such a clever move, dearest Vivienne. We're all looking at Anders. Inquisitor, your affection for Anders kept us from stepping into a mess."

“Leliana, I’d like to look at that correspondence right away. Are you available?" A focused Inquisitor asks.

“Of course, Inquisitor, at your service.”

Chapter Text

Into the late evening, Leliana and Evelyn reconstruct details that brought Anders to Skyhold. It is not a large conspiracy. They agree one single creature orchestrated everything.

As Skyhold sleeps, Evelyn departs Leliana’s tower office, down to the quiet main hall. Her shoulders feel heavy. A day ago Corypheus is her greatest concern, her fear of returning to the Circle more distant. Yesterday she had Cullen’s love, their relationship at a pinnacle, a joy brought to both.

An exasperated grunt escapes over where to sleep. The last two nights, in Cullen’s arms, the most wonderful of her life. Absolutely not tonight. The Inquisitor suite is too big, too lonely. She misses sharing a tent with friends. To the women’s barracks she walks.

The night isn't kind. Restless, unable to sleep, she listens to the women’s soft snores. She doesn't mind. Templar’s clanking armor fill the Circle’s nights as they search for signs of possession and demons. Not once in fourteen years did she witness an occurrence…not once.

After the sun rises, she stares at Cullen's office door wondering what waits on the other side. What does one say to a boyfriend? What are the rules of a lover’s quarrel? Are things over after an argument?

She didn't consider the risk to their relationship when she told the War Council about Anders. She could have kept quiet to protect herself, but she wouldn't jeopardize the Inquisition or let Anders suffer.

She has no idea how to talk to Cullen. The situation is tangled with personal issues and Inquisition business. Best to start with the Inquisition. Her morning routine is stopping by everyone’s office, so the Inquisitor knocks and opens his door.

“Commander.”

Busy at the desk, nose deep in a report, he answers without looking up, “Inquisitor.”

“Is there anything I need to know?” Standard Inquisition business question.

He looks at a message, jots a note emphasizing he is busy. “Not at this time.”

With a breath of courage she pressed into personal issues, “Do you have some time?”

“I’ve important matters to take care of, so if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to work.” It is level, uncommitted, and not eye to eye.

Cautiously, she crafts a question that hangs between general concerns and personal affairs. “Haven’t seen you since the meeting. Would you like to talk about it?”

His tone remains level, trying not to betray brewing feelings. “There's nothing to discuss. The situation's getting worked out.”

Pushing further, trying to bypass his resolve to say nothing, she steps into the very personal. “If I hurt you…”

His response snaps like a dry stick cutting off her next words, “You assume I am hurt. I am not.”

“Then what is wrong?”

The tree splinters under the strain, the response swift. “Why can’t a mage tell the difference between right and wrong? Why is it a mage can’t show good sense when it’s right in front of them. It’s as simple as saying ‘no’ to a demon.”

“Oh.” On instinct she checks the door situation, appreciating the office has three unlocked doors. Templars on the edge are frightening, and Cullen is on the edge. Had the Anders situation set off a lyrium rage?

“How much thought did Anders give? Blood magic he condemns but possession is fine? He willingly let a demon possess him. Bad things happened. People died. Hawke stupidly gave him a second chance. So you give him a third chance?” The last he drives in like a stake.

The mage in her shakes with fear but the Inquisitor responds. “Hawke and I took the time to see the subtle, smaller details. Hawke refused Anders the martyrdom he desired, forced Anders to see the consequences. I see someone using Anders like a pawn to hurt the Inquisition. Stop looking at the mage and look at the bigger picture.”

“A mage protecting another mage." He finds a spot to dig, puts her in her place. "Your big picture comes down to a single selfish mage, you!”

“Now I’m just a mage?" Who is this man whose words slap her across the face? "Reduced to a pathetic mage who should be locked up in a Circle? Thank you for reminding me this Inquisition is temporary, that a mage can't hold a position of power. When it’s over, if I’m not dead, a couple of templars will take me back to the Circle. How can you…?” She stops, bites back the words. This isn’t what she wants.

A desk stands between them, yet Cullen feels himself towering, imposing. He likes that he made her upset. She tries to stand up to him, but recoils like a weak mage.

Cullen's dominance sends a shiver down Evelyn's spine. A memory. Her first year, just an apprentice. She took a book outside the library. Brooks, the templar monitoring the library, needs to feel big, stops her in the hall, stands over her, daring her. Defiant she smarts off, “Checking out books today?” He smiles at the joke then backhands her. First time anyone ever hit her. How he grins as he stands over her, how the templar loves his power.

“No. I hear you, but I won’t believe it. Can’t. I promised to believe in you. I still do.” Fear pressing her steps, she leaves the office of a man she doesn't know, a man who said he loved her less than twenty-four hours ago.

Her words find no purchase, words scatter into empty air. Everything Cullen believed, promised and achieved disappeared at the War Council. Evelyn diffused into a mist as if she never existed. His mind is not his own.

Instinctively he pulls out the desk drawer. The box of lyrium and supplies gone, destroyed. Every lyrium philter cleared from his office, everything sent to the Templar supply officer. An act of bravery. A test. A test he regrets in this horrible moment.

The drawer slams shut. He doesn't need the lyrium, he can resist the lyrium. He needs something to numb him so nothing interferes with his responsibilities. He must stop looking. Lyrium allowed him to be a templar yet remain indifferent in Kirkwall.

Lyrium didn’t totally blind him. He saw tranquil mages that shouldn’t be tranquil. He is unsympathetic. Knight-Commander Meredith knew his limits. He held to the templar code. He'd never executed an apostate who surrenders, or make a mage tranquil as a punishment. Meredith never asked him to participate. He simply didn’t question when it happened around him. He wasn't a monster.

Anders is the monster. He deserves to be tranquil. Made himself an abomination. Blew up the Chantry killing hundreds of people. He is a weapon, a danger, a maleficar. A dangerous mage allowed to be free.

Anders. Anders and Evelyn were intimate? Is that what she said? Is that what she meant? Did she love an abomination, an apostate who deserved death or tranquility?

Everything slithers around Cullen's head and through his guts like a snake. He tries to restrain himself. Best to stay here. He fears if leaves his office he’d find a lyrium philter and use it.

The night to come terrifies him. Tonight will be the same as last night. A looming shadow waits. The nightmare returns. When he closes his eyes, she'll be there, the desire demon from the Circle Tower, in his bed, offering tender arms, professing love, promising to wait forever. She’ll haunt him tonight. He’ll fight until exhausted.

 
Arbor Wilds – Status Report
Fourteen days to Arbor Wilds.
Scout Harding reports no sign of Morrigan's so called artifact that Corypheus seeks. If it exists it must be located inside the main structure.

While searching near the main structure scouts encountered hostile elves wearing unfamiliar uniforms. The elves are not from the opposition’s forces, nor from Brianna’s spy network. There are no elf clans in the area. Unable to make contact without drawing hostility.

Confirm the presence of opposition forces. Small number: 20 Venatori and 10 Red Templars. Primary activity is evaluating locations for other camp sites, secondary is scouting and surveying the temple. Judging from the areas they've cleared for the coming forces, they expect up to two hundred soldiers. They ran into the mysterious elves. The Venatori were no match for the stealth-trained elves. Elves easily killed off a number of Venatori scouts. Unable to breach the sanctum, scouts pulled back. They wait for their main forces.

Confirmed Coryepheus's Venatori search for a very specific elven artifact of great magical power. Our spies overheard the Venatori talking about a Vessel for the Well of Sorrows. Can't confirm if it's Morrigan's named artifact.

Inquisition forces in Emprise Du Lion to relocate to the Arbor Wilds. They are ten days out from the Arbor Wilds.

Orlais generously agreed to send their armed forces in the Emerald Graves to the Arbor Wilds to assist us. They are ten days out from the Arbor Wilds. Thank you, Lady Ambassador for making this possible.

Inquisition Command and forces currently located in Skyhold depart in two days. Our travel time to the Arbor Wilds is fourteen days. If the Inquisition wants this artifact we must push to arrive before Coryepheus's main forces.
Submitted, Commander Rutherford
Copies to Leliana, Inquisitor, Josephine and Cassandra

Judgement of Anders
A large crowd assembles in the main hall. Faces never seen in Skyhold testify great interest to the proceedings. Vivienne talks with two Orlesian Nobles no doubt attending at her invitation. Ander’s fate is of interest across Thedas.

Josephine speaks before the crowd. “Good afternoon, Inquisitor. Today, we look at the case of the mage, Anders. Anders appears today implicated in events that took place during the Kirkwall Rebellion.”

Guards escort the prisoner down the hall. Anders stares at his feet as he did previously. At the bottom step, on his own accord he drops to his knees.

The Inquisitor speaks. “Anders, today you face judgement before the Inquisition. As your case impacts many across Thedas, the Inquisition postponed judgement so allies had time for input so we may conclusively consider your fate.

“The City of Kirkwall fears your influence on its recovery, and therefore grants the Inquisition judgment whether it be life, death or prison.

“Without a Divine, the Chantry offers no answers or opinion of this case. We will do our best to respect the Chantry and its principals.

“The Ferelden Crown grants responsibility to the Inquisition, asking us to consider all mitigating circumstances. We respect their wishes to consider Anders fairly, with temperament and wisdom.

“Empress Celene expresses a wish for justice for all involved. She looks to the Inquisition to be just in its decision as this affects many.

“Starkhaven requests the head of Anders, without judgment, trial or hearing. As they threatened Kirkwall if Anders remains in the city, so they look to Skyhold with the same threat. We wonder at the refusal to put aside arms as the Inquisition pursues a would-be god threatening all of Thedas.

“Anders, following an escape from the Circle during the Fifth Blight, you were conscripted by the Hero of Ferelden for the Grey Wardens. You served the Wardens at Vigil’s Keep, with distinction. Subsequently after the fall of Vigil’s Keep, you traveled to Kirkwall.

"For six years, you ran a charity healing clinic in Kirkwall. You claim to witness a growing abuse of Circle mages. Influenced by a Spirit of Justice, you caused the explosion at the Kirkwall Chantry killing Grand Cleric Elthina and others present in the Chantry, and many more innocents in the surrounding area.

“Discovered by Knight Commander Meredith she granted the Champion of Kirkwall the right to decide your fate for the Chantry explosion. The Champion spared you and asked you to fight by his side against the Knight Commander who invoked the Rite of Annulment without Chantry approval. Following her defeat, you fled with the Champion, eventually going separate ways. Soon after, in the Vinmark Mountains, you ran a free healing clinic for victims of the mage templar conflict.

“Do you deny any of this?” The question gives little hint as to where the decision will fall.

Anders looks up to the Inquisitor, “I do not deny any of this. I accept my fate and whatever judgment falls upon me.”

The Inquisitor turns to the crowd, “I’ve carefully considered all these events and the parties involved. To clarify any dispute, I'll address claimants to Anders.

“According to the Chantry, a mage belongs to the Circle. Anders escaped so many times that Templars considered using the rite of tranquility or execution as punishment.

“The Grey Wardens conscription removes Chantry claims to Anders. A templar claiming to act on behalf of the Chantry violated the treaty by attacking a group of Wardens traveling with Anders. Chantry agents should reconsider any future actions toward Anders.

“Anders conscripted to the Grey Wardens. Kirkwall, Starkhaven, Orlais, Fereldan, the Chantry, and the Inquisition all bend to the authority of the Grey Wardens for without them the blight consumes us all.

“The Grey Warden treaties supersede all other parties and interests.

“Anders, my judgment is you are a Grey Warden, you belong to the Grey Wardens. I return you to the Grey Wardens to serve with obedience at their behest.” She sits silent waiting for the crowd’s response. She is not disappointed.

A great mumbling moves through the crowd.

The Inquisitor stands, steps closer, presses her authority. “Is there precedent for a man burdened of high crimes that many seek bloody vengeance? General Loghain Mac Tir is such a man who abandoned his king to die. He branded the Grey Wardens traitors, leaving many people in Ferelden to die by the darkspawn. Bloody vengeance followed him. The traitor was conscripted by the Grey Wardens who took him into their ranks. I am witness to this man. He sacrificed his life at Adamant, as a Grey Warden, for their honor, so that the Inquisition could fight the greater threat.”

Her next words hinted a threat and a lot of drama, “What of Justice? Does Anders get what he deserves? Here is your bloody vengeance: Anders you are condemn to death by the very dark spawn you hunt. You'll serve the Grey Wardens until madness drives you to the deep roads. There you shall die at the hand of the merciless darkspawn who will tear you apart and feast on your flesh.”

She returns to her throne and gives her final word, “Anders serves the Grey Wardens and dies a Grey Warden.”

Chapter Text

Post judgment, Evelyn walks into the Inquisitor’s suite to find Anders sitting on the couch while two guards "dagger eye' him suspiciously.

She worries for him. He’ll live under suspicion the rest of his life regardless of this judgment. “Guards, please take your position at the door downstairs. I need a word with our…with Anders.”

“Inquisitor, are you sure?” Quizzes a guard.

As suspected, her own guards are cautious. “Anders is safe with me. No one will get past you two.”

“Your Worship, are you safe?”

Cullen's trained his soldiers well. They protect the prisoner…ex-prisoner, but they think first of their Inquisitor. “He's not as vicious as he looks.”

“Yes, Inquisitor. We’ll be down stairs.” They give Anders an I-Dare-You look. They'll be vigilant…from downstairs.

She stops them before they leave, “If you see Cecilia, please ask her to send up supper. Thank you.”

Evelyn sits besides Anders on the couch. “How do you feel about all this?” She is proud of Anders. This entire time he’s been calm and reasonable asking for nothing. He's no trouble. Was he like this in Circle or Kirkwall?

“I’m not sure. Am I a prisoner?”

“Maybe this makes sense: Corypheus took over the Grey Wardens. The Inquisition saved the survivors. The remaining Wards agreed to be part of the Inquisition, at least until Corypheus is defeated. You are a Grey Warden. You are part of the Inquisition.”

“I think I understand.”

“Good to know. If you've any problems, don’t hesitate to speak with me. While your here in Skyhold, I don’t worry you’ll run, but honestly I worry people may come to get you.”

“Bloody retribution?” He asks.

“I’m assigning guards to protect you.”

He's not pleased. “I can’t live like that. It’s like templars watching over me.”

“Starkhaven’s threats are real: hiring Crows, poisoning food, collateral damage. Want to pick your guards? I could send a dozen for you to pick from.”

“And if I choose two very attractive guards?”

Evelyn rolls her eyes. “I’ll assign very ugly guards with poor humor to keep you safe. Don't want them distracted while assassins' are about. But onward. You get clinic duty as a healer. Is that okay?”

“Still feels like prison.”

“I’m asking you to work with us. Be part of this effort. For now. Think of us as two mages, both stuck here, but not in prison. I have no safe accommodations arranged for you so you'll stay in your cell tonight.”

“Here is safe.” He indicates the large Inquisitor suite.

Evelyn looks at her rarely used suite. “Um…true. I don’t sleep here often. Too big. Too alone. I’m fine with that.”

She pauses for a moment. "I didn't judge you guilty for Kirkwall. I sent you to the Wardens, to the people you willingly joined and willingly served. Many Wardens did unspeakable things. So have you. I understand why you did that in Kirkwall, but cannot condone it. You carved out a bloody path with no guarantee of a good outcome. We, mages, gained little. Our future remains uncertain. But I understand. As I pursue Corypheus I too face choices for good and evil. Those choices...I try not to think about it."

Cecilia enters with a tray full of food.

“Thank goodness. I’m starving. Eat up, Anders. Only reason I keep this colossal room is the food is better here.”

Outside the Inquisitor's suite, Cullen speaks with guards until Evelyn appears. He monitors his voice so the entire hall isn't witness.

“You put that abomination in your room?”

Great Maker, as much as she wants to speak with Cullen she doesn't right now. “That room is the most secure room in Skyhold. He’ll be safe.”

“With you? Is that what this is about?”

Buckets of patience she has, but that is over the line. Might as well get this out. Remembering the many people in the hall she speaks near a whisper, “You go too far. You think I’ve done this, sparing his life, keeping him here because I want him in my bed?”

“Anders embodies everything wrong with mages: an abomination, a danger to others, murder of hundreds, a weapon, a seducer.”

“Is that what you believe? How long will this unreasonable anger last?" He is not "her" Cullen anymore. He's getting worse.

“I believe he is evil.”

“Cullen!” She calms herself. Great Maker, is he upset at her or is this the long-term effects of lyrium withdrawal? Will he ever gain control over this?

“I’m angry and hurt. If he’s in your…I can’t.”

“You told me about effects of lyrium withdraw, it's impossible to concentrate, you can't keep your mind clear? You felt like a different person? I'd pounced to help you get past the pain. This is one of those moments you need a pounce.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Wish I was being funny. I’m serious. Where are these thoughts coming from? Is this about Anders or do you really believe this about me? You’re twisting around and seeing things differently, like you’re looking through another's eyes. Whatever you think you’re seeing isn’t happening.” Arguing in whispers, she doesn't miss the irony.

“You can’t tell me what I'm thinking. You don’t know.” His tone is dangerous.

“Okay, Cullen.” No use arguing. As a mage she is part of this problem.

“I must finish the plans for Arbor Wilds." He says, "I need to coordinate tomorrow's departure. I don’t need this on my mind.”

“Then let’s talk about it later with cooler heads.”

“No. This we no longer need to discuss. Any of this. Ever.” He turns and walks away.

The two soldiers standing at the door respectfully pretend they hear nothing.

He said it but didn't say it. It feels clear that they…he and she…are done. She looks for the exact words, or a hint everything’s on hold. He said it and he didn’t.

With no choice, a decision falls hard like the walls of Adamant. He's right. Thedas is more important. They head to the Arbor Wilds in the morning. The Inquisition is closing in on Corypheus. For now she'll concentrate on the monster. Mages are used to living inches away from love. She can do that. For now.

 
The Well of Sorrows
Evelyn walks into waters that dance around her. The Inquisition's army and it's allies defeat Corephyeus's forces, join with the Temple's guardians, and gain access to the fabled vir'abelasan, the Well of Sorrows. Evelyn will drink to gain the knowledge to defeat Coreypheus.

She dips fingers into the pool sending ripples jumping across the surface. Morrigan's right, the Well is hungry. Waters touch her, plead to her. Solas said the Inquisition needs the Well but standing in its waters she realizes The Well needs her more.

Hands carry water to lips. Water flows into her mouth. The water doesn't stop, it flows and flows from her hands. The water flows over skin, over arms. The Well finds the anchor, a recognition from a time long ago. The water runs down her body, down legs engulfing her.

Her eyes shut in terror until the water stills, embracing her with calm. She opens eyes. She is suspended in a great vastness of water. They wish to know her. A thousand voices murmur in a strange language but she understands.

The Well gives her the next step in the journey: A forgotten altar in the wilderness.

“Wake up!” the Well hisses.

Evelyn’s skin crawls and her hair frizzles with static.

“Inquisitor!” Blackwall yells desperately to get her attention.

Her eyes open. Blackwall pulls her up to a sitting position in a now empty pool. Everyone urges her to stand, waving behind her. She looks over her shoulder.

Across the courtyard an angry Corypheus curses at yet another interference with his plan.

“The eluvian, now!” Morrigan grabs Evelyn by the arm, drags her.

The eluvian springs to life allowing them to pass.

Evelyn hangs back, watching Corypheus flying in the air at great speed. Just before she steps into the mirror a watery spirit rises from the empty basin, stands between her and Corypheus. She waits no more and jumps into the mirror.

.

“By drinking from the Well of Sorrow you bind yourself in service to an ancient elven god!” Solas roars at Evelyn in the Hall of Murals.

Her eyes blink rapidly trying to understand his dramatic reprimand, 'Don’t let Corypheus get the Well, you said, someone from the Inquisition must drink. Don’t let Morrigan take the knowledge. The Inquisition needs its power. When I ask you, you refuse. No way with Sera and Iron Bull. What choice did I have? If you hadn’t notice, if you weren’t so angry you’d see I listened to you. I trust your advice, I trust you. The knowledge is ours, we’ll defeat Corypheus.”

“No, not just knowledge, you are subject to the Well of Sorrow’s collective will. The Well serves Mythal and now you are bound to her. If Mythal desires Skyhold burn, you may be the instrument. You must wonder if your actions or direction are influenced or directed by Mythal. Your fate is not your own.”

“Why does this worry you so much, Solas? The Well is knowledge, right? Is it dangerous knowledge? Can this knowledge hurt someone? Who? Elves? You?” She witnesses a dangerous flash in Solas' eyes.

Rage implodes at Evelyn, “Can you even hear what the well says, Shem? Does it speak in a language you can’t understand? If the Well spoke of me would you even know what it said? The knowledge of thousands of years falls on a child's mind. I fear nothing from the vir'abelasan.”

“Solas?” She begs, “You said it would help us.”

He calms himself, covers his anger but he speaks bitterly. “It will. Corypheus endangers everyone: humans, dwarves and elves. The Well protects you, shields you, but only because it serves Mythal’s purpose. Never forget that.”

“Help me understand.” She begs.

He's finished with the discussion. He dismisses her as he sits at his desk. “Be sure of your preparations for the Altar.”

“Solas, I’m sorry I angered you. It wasn't my intent.” Reluctantly she gives up the conversation. Something is unsaid, something else about the Well of Sorrows angers Solas.

Chapter Text

Life in a Circle is about routine: Day in and day out. Biggest event? Templars slaying a spontaneous abomination? Nope. Suicides? More mages die by choice than by old age. Templars bully and noisily clank about, but they are predictable like clockwork. Sneak a sweet from the kitchen, carnal coitus timed to the second, savor a banned book: look out unnecessary, freedom in ten minutes, timed between patrols, timed to the second.

The biggest upset is a mage facing the Harrowing. Harrowing, tranquility or death so unpredictable templars prepare for anything. The First Enchanter’s favorite initiate turned in to a Pride Demon and died in the Harrowing Chamber. A strange mute orphan returned so quickly from the Fade the templars considered sending him back. No one wants to see a mage walking to the Harrowing Chamber.

Keeping a Circle calm is like walking on thin ice. Order and routine maintains the calm: treating a suicide like its everyday and the ten minute freedom maintains the illusion the Circle isn’t a prison.

To her advisers, companions and soldiers Evelyn forges forward as the brave Inquisitor. The faithful admire her as the blessed Herald, someone to aspire to. Outside the circle, in the world where nothing was predictable, she is simply a mage trying to orchestra chaos.

At the Altar in the wilderness, the Inquisitor calls Mythal, the Protector and All Mother to the elves. A summoned wisp draws up until a very real and very human woman stands before them. Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds, hosts an ancient elf god. Flemeth’s arrival disturbs Morrigan. She's suddenly grateful she isn't the Vessel. Evelyn finds it unexpected but after all that’s passed her, not surprising.

Evelyn presses Flemeth for answers. "Can you help us defeat Corypheus?"

“The voices do not lie, Inquisitor, I can help you.” Flemeth cast a spell upon Morrigan. “The altar’s guardian will come. Master the dragon, and it will be yours to command against Corypheus. Fail and die.”

"Got it. Another test. No promises, right. Well, I'm getting good at these tests. One more thing, if I may, I drank from the Well and now its Vessel, do you command me, am I your slave?”

“You are not a slave, my child. You participate in a greater story. So long as the music plays, we dance. Think of the Well as a guardian or guiding parent. The Well looks to preserve itself thus the Vessel. The Well protects the anchor, too. Yes, the Well knows the anchor. Look to the wisdom of the Well.”

“The Well defends itself? So it protects me? Like a shield?”

“Not a shield, child. So, a bit of advice, don’t stand in front of pointy swords. The Well cannot dodge. Dodging is still your job.” Flemeth laughs, enjoys a bit of humor.

Ancient elven god carried by a human witch of the wilds. Human carries the Well of Sorrow's thousand years of elven knowledge. The champion of Mythal is Morrigan shape shifted into a dragon. If Solas saw the irony he never said.

Nothing’s predictable so Evelyn treats the strange like it’s an everyday event. Tame the dragon, nothing new: Blackwall, The Iron Bull and Sera are ready for lunch. Everyday checklist: Got dragon, check. Thousand voices in head, check. Next, find Corypheus.

Cassandra sits on the war table, patiently waiting. Cullen enters looking very tired. “Thank you, Commander, for meeting me before the War Council. We need to talk.”

Instantly his brows cross. “What can I do for you?”

“The Inquisitor returns from Mythal’s Altar. This Council meeting is critical. The Inquisition needs a hundred percent from you. Put your promise to serve the Inquisition foremost in your mind. Do you understand?”

He suspects where this is going. “If this is about my relationship with the Inquisitor, don’t. That’s personal.”

“I’m not here about Evelyn, or the two of you. I’m here about you. Quitting lyrium is tough, very few succeed, yet you try. You got better, you got worse, better, and now worse."

“Right. I’m worse. I’m involved with a mage. I’m in a pit as deep as Kirkwall.”

“No, not because of her. Some of this anger is lyrium withdraw side effects. This is a setback but you must fight it. The strength to fight must be your strength. The inquisition didn’t save you from Kirkwall. You left Kirkwall, your choice. You lean on Evelyn too much. Evelyn cannot save you from yourself. You must choose to get better for yourself...by your own will.”

He trusts no one with his inner most thoughts. Cassandra is the closest to a confidant he's allows. "The nightmares are worse. The desire demon is back offering me everything, love, intimacy, happiness. Hard to fight the temptation. Only lyrium restrained the demon. Without it, I’m losing the fight.”

“Cullen, nightmares are you standing in front of a mirror, the nightmares reflect you. The real temptation is the lie someone else can fix you. That Evelyn can cure. I’ve known since Kirkwall you could beat this, just you. Stop focusing on magic, mages, or Evelyn. Step back from the Inquisitor, leave her out of this. Get better for yourself.”

Cullen remains silent, unable to respond. Truth requires no response.

“Today, you are Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition Forces. The Inquisition needs you, we all need you. The Inquisitor needs Commander Rutherford, not Cullen. Let your strength and courage lead you. I believe in you.”

She watches as words stir in his head. She knows he'll come around, face this, be the right man.

The door opens and the rest of the council arrives. Josephine leads, Leliana and Evelyn talking follow behind. With little time to waste, Cassandra opens the discussion.

“So, you have what you need, from the Altar of Mythal?” Cassandra asks.

“Mythal or Flemeth, bit of both, hard to reconcile…what I saw. Yes, the Well of Sorrows is correct, Mythal had the final piece, a champion, my champion. The champion...Morrigan...never mind that, is a dragon who’ll fight Corypheus’ archdemon, well, not an archdemon but looks like one. Right, his dragon’s a blighted creature infected with red lyrium. We knew that. Corypheus twisted the dragon in red lyrium, but it's still a dragon. My dragon fights his dragon. If his dragon dies, his soul, if we believe Corypheus has a soul, we’ll call it that, has no refuge. Corypheus can be killed, he can die. We can kill him. I can kill him.” Her eyes glaze over as if was a great effort to keep things sensible.

“Inquisitor, are you alright?” Cassandra asks.

“Of course, lots to process. The Well is very loud. Time is short.”

Cullen brings up the big question. “Where is Corypheus?”

The sudden darkening of the room surprises everyone, except Evelyn. She walks calmly to the window and peers out. "There he is. It’s Corypheus.”

The unflinching Inquisitor stares at the new breach over the Temple of Ashes ruins. She is without emotions like the day templars took her to the Circle. She is completely level headed, resigned to her fate, committed to the course. There is no turning back.

Leliana's professional in the face of anything persona disappears, “Why, why would he do this?”

Still staring out the window, still caught up in her mind, Evelyn thinks out loud, “Hmm, he used the orb. He can’t use it to enter the fade but it’s still powerful.”

“What are you talking about? What is he doing?” Casandra asks.

“Corypheus could search for another way into the Fade, but he won't because anger steers his course. He opens a breach: I have the anchor, I’m forced to show up. He must kill me. He releases demons into the world to destroy everything, because I took everything from him. It's just like Jonah.”

“Jonah, who’s Jonah?” Cullen asks.

“Jonah was an apprentice in my Circle. The First Enchanter and Knight-Commander told Jonah they’re taking him to his Harrowing, but they’re taking him for the Rite of Tranquility. He knew. On route Jonah let go a rein of fire balls, burning everything, anyone in sight. Nothing to lose. Took three templars to kill him. Jonah just wanted to watch the world burn.”

The horrible realization strikes them as Evelyn continues.

“He’ll kill me, but it’s not enough. Corypheus wants to watch the world burn.”

“No, you will succeed.” Josephine says.

Everyone looks to the Inquisitor for strength and reassurance.

“Yes, I will.” It's a single short statement. Inside her the Well of Sorrow rages a battle she has yet to recognize.

“Wait for our troops returning from the Arbor Wilds. We’ll plan an offensive. You need backup.” Cullen acts as if the wind is knocked out of him. He is the leader of the Inquisition Forces and he has nothing to offer her. He is sending her to die.

“No, it’s now. Corypheus is alone. To prove himself. He’ll have his dragon. I’ll have my dragon. This is how it ends.”

Aware of the uneasiness stirring inside, Evelyn slips silently into the Hall of Murals. She looks at the panels depicting the Herald of Andraste progression from Temple of Ashes to the current day. The final panel, unpainted. The single panel ominous: One battle remains. Solas will paint one bloody body on the bottom of the panel: Corypheus or her.

Evelyn leans quietly by the empty panel. She'll wait till Solas decides to recognize her. He knows she’s there, he always knows she's there.

Solas continues reading his book on the desk, “Have you prepared yourself?”

“As best I can.”

Solas closes the book. Without turning he launches into a lecture, “Corypheus is no ordinary foe. Corypheus is unique. His magic is unique. He’s the most powerful mage in Thedas, and he is a darkspawn. For a thousand years he’s planned his ascent into the black city, he’s twisted his body for that single purpose. And you, a mere human, his sole rival, stand in the way.”

“That's why Corypheus focuses on me?”

“Before the Temple of Ashes, his victory was assured. Then you showed. You, and only you, defeated him at every turn: you stole the anchor’s power, took his templars at Therinfal, destroyed his demon army, took the Well of Sorrows. You twist him more than he twists his own body. He’ll not come as before. Be wary the lengths he’ll go to punish or kill you. He must. His nature, his very self demands it."

“Your insight into Corypheus is remarkable. You study him?” She asks.

“Absolutely. I would be foolish not too.”

“Thank you, Solas, for helping, for staying, for sharing your insights with me. We haven't always agreed but you've always supported me. I value our friendship.” She still wonders if he's here for other reasons. She's almost sure of it. He promised to stay until the breach was sealed yet here he remains.

“Your regard never fails to surprise me. I’m wise to watch you.”

"Not in a creepy, stalker way?" She isn't expecting that response. She is double surprised when the Well of Sorrows seem to jump at Solas' words. The fact that the Well can make its opinion known to her is a bit troublesome.

“I watch you with great interest as I watch Corypheus. You are unique, a human bearing the anchor, who walks in the Fade, a dreamer, and now Vessel of the Well of Sorrows. I cannot afford to overlook you. Now, finish your preparations, he waits for you.”

Evelyn surprises Solas with a small, quick hug that ended before Solas objected. “Forgive me, Solas. I needed it.”

As she steps out the Hall of Murals a turmoil jumps in her chest. Did the final unfinished panel disturb her, or something else? Why is the Well of Sorrow on guard? And why would she dare to hug Solas? What is going on? She faced Corypheus and his dragon alone in Haven, so what's the worry? They’ve defeated Corypheus every step of the way, what causes doubts to enter her mind now?

She finds herself standing in the middle of Skyhold's garden. This place needs a pond. Would really help. Dip toes into cool water, calm a disturbed and fearful mind.

Her chest tightens, her heart pounds. A fear grips her so quickly she is barely holding it together. She tries imagining the sensation of standing on a pier daring to jump into the dark waters. Check resolve, test courage. Just close eyes and jump. Is that why I like ponds? A tiny practice at the face of unknown dangers? Like sarcasm makes scary things smaller. Standing in the Skyhold garden, no pond and no sarcasm.

A voice comes from the Shrine of Andraste, a voice in benediction. Prayers said aloud, Cullen’s prayers. It’s wrong but she steps inside the door. He kneels before the statue of Andraste, words shared, not silent.

“A prayer for those we’ve lost?”

“And for those we’re afraid to lose.” He does not stand, or shouldn’t stand. He needs to be strong. He cannot look to her for strength.

Evelyn considers Cullen's kneeling figure, his words about losing someone. Why is this battle so difficult to face? A worry grows immobilizing feet and words. Her heart breaks. No pond, no sarcasm, no Cullen. For a brief time he is a refuge, her hope, as I to him. If there are words, they must be words for both of them.

“Things aren’t right between us but I wanted…to see if you're okay.”

Cullen wants to fall on his knees before her, beg for forgiveness but Cassandra’s words bind him, he has a job, he must be professional. “Everything is arranged: transportation, supplies, everything you need. I sent soldiers in advance, they'll be there waiting for you.”

Speak, Evelyn. Say what’s right or find yourself standing in this spot until Corypheus destroys the world. “I want to say things but.... We promised to be friends but I think I messed up. I asked too much of you. I failed... I miss you.”

“I cannot…so don’t.” Words are hard but he must. The right path is to stand alone, to get better without clinging to her. It is wrong to use her as a cure.

“What? Be a friend? You helped me through so much. I was that friend to you. When you were in pain…withdraws. I am still trying. I never gave up on you.” Her body feels heavy, asking this hurts.

“I know. I…wish.” He says.

“Be that friend. Corypheus stands in front of me...and...Maker, I hugged Solas. I'm suddenly drowning and don’t know why. The Well of Sorrows is so loud. I don't know what they're trying to say. They won't shut up!” Feels like she's fighting herself only it's the Well she's fighting.

There's nothing here. Please feet start moving. Her body obeys and she turns toward the garden taking a shaky step. The path to Corypheus is long, every step needed to find clarity. Her feet cease. This time the Well's fear freezes her.

Her voice speaks, quiet, honest. “I want to live. I want... Oh, great, now I’m crying. There’s no crying before battles." An inappropriate laugh escapes. "And commence with jokes. I'm melting inside so sarcasm joins the fight."

Cullen stands and walks cautiously behind the woman gripping the door frame. A warm hand touches her shoulder. It’s all the contact he can allow. “You’ll live," he says quietly, "You have to. You’ll come back.”

His touch opens an emotional flood gate releasing the paralyzing fear. Her chest eases, emotions drain, tears subdue, the mind clears. She is herself. After a moment, she stands straight. “I’ll try. Thank you, Cullen.”

Feet are slow and reluctant but it’s about what must be done: a final confrontation. Once it’s over there is another great unknown, a void. Maybe that’s the true fear. The day she rode away from the Circle, she felt apprehensive, riding into an unseen future, like this moment…this moment plus one darkspawn, of course. Thanks sarcasm for joining the battle.

Feet move forward. One step, the next step, the next step. The cloud lifts with every step. Was all that her fear or was that the Well of Sorrow? It wasn't her. She has hope. The Well flooded her with fear. She summons her own strength to push the Well further back. She takes control. She is not the Well of Sorrows.

Thank you, Cullen, she thinks to herself, his touch kept her from sinking into the Well's fear. The Well of Sorrow fears Corypheus, not her.

Cullen watches her disappear from the garden. The lyrium, guilt, anger, hate, disappointment grip him. His life could get better but he fails to face his anger and prejudices. His past destroys everything. Anders is a wake-up call about Kirkwall, the failure of the Templar Order, the lyrium leash, the Chantry letting things fall apart, his own failure to act. Anders is a test to see if he had truly faced and overcome all that. He had failed. He must face it all. Until he did, he can't step forward.

Chapter Text

Cullen chose the War Room. The room reminds him why he joined the inquisition. Braced against the table he concentrates on the thought that service has meaning.

“Excuse me, Commander." Leliana speaks gently so not to startle the Commander unaware as she slips silently into the room. "I thought the room empty.”

"I can go somewhere else," he says, “if you want to be alone…”

“No, I'd rather not be alone. Talking helps, if you don’t mind. Nothing else to do but hope and wait.” She sits at the war table, her hands folded in front of her as if in prayer. He moves by the window, stares at the new breach.

“You’ve come a long way, Commander. I've watched you since Kinlock, half crazed from torture when we freed you from the demon’s prison. Not a great turn of events in Kirkwall, serving a maniacal insane person....who’s not a mage. Here you've made a difference, made the world better. Everything you desire in service. Yes?”

“We reminiscing?” His tone is terse, bitter.

“We wait the outcome of the final battle with Corypheus. We’ve the luxury because someone else battles the would-be-god.”

“I’m aware.” He says.

“I'm curious. The Inquisition gave you everything you wanted: service, atonement, a chance to be free of lyrium. Somehow you found a wonderful woman who loves you. One day you just walked away. I ask myself, why? It was at the meeting over Anders. She admitted to a brief close friendship with Anders. Who wouldn’t be upset to discover his sweetheart is friends with a monster, right? Then you turn her into the monster. How did that happen?”

“Enough! I prefer my private life stay private.” An ounce of energy and Cullen would storm from the room but he has just the energy to stand and stare out the window.

“I can respect that until the sole person who can kill Corypheus, who can close the breach is emotionally wounded and doesn’t understand why. But it wasn't just her, you hurt yourself.”

Leliana is no stranger to personal hardships and ends her criticism. “I'm sorry, Commander. You’re right. Your business. I’m frighten for her, up against Corypheus. I’ve come to respect her, care for her. Didn't always, you know. Remember the frightened, bitter mage sure we'd throw her to the templars once we finished with her? She’s come a long way. We were the adults looking after a young, combative, unsure mage. Look at her, the woman we send to battle. We helped her change, you helped her change.

“I let her down, Commander. Underestimated her every step of the way. Expected the Winter Palace would be a disaster because of her. Kept Anders a secret, she didn’t need to know. She was naive, too immature. She saw the manipulation, not me. My job to see these things and I failed. She risked everything admitting her time with Anders: her position, losing you, but she put the Inquisition first. Can’t help but respect that. Vivienne played us all: Cassandra, Josephine, you, me. The damage we almost did to the Inquisition. Our fault.”

Cullen can't accept the blame, “That is not fair, I was not at fault….”

“Fault or not, we’re supposed to try. When Haven fell, you took responsibility, got us out, made Skyhold safe. When the Herald faltered, you helped her, became her friend. A man doesn’t walk away, he tries, he fights. You don’t give up.”

She continues gently, “I understand, Cullen, I do. I failed Evelyn, I failed the Inquisitor. A mage. She risks everything to save a world who hates mages. The one thing she asks us in return? Save me from the Circle. But we haven't, have we? She believes the Circle is her fate. She’s earned my respect, my love. So, I’ll try.”

Corypheus waits at the Temple of Ashes. Happily toying with Inquisition soldiers, demanding obedience, tearing up any who defies him. He plays the scolding parent, the dangerous dictator, the spurned lover. Centuries waiting victory, he accepts nothing but absolute submission from every breathing person in Thedas. A tiny girl rejected by her family and locked up for magic dare stands defiant, diverting him from a single purpose.

Joy fills his wretched bones at the Inquisitor’s arrival. Shame to drag her away from her pitiful life. Look upon what purpose creates, built from a mere human and made into a god. He could raise her up, stand her beside him, be his second. Defiance isn’t rewarded. She deserves nothing, nothing but death. First he must strip away her pride, she must see his power.

“See, Inquisitor, see what makes a man worthy of godhood.” His voice booms.

Magic lifts the temple ruins from the ground where they stood, isolating them. Sera the silly girl, The Iron Bull born from a decaying race, the pretender Blackwall, and her, the Inquisitor nothing but a thief in the wrong place at the wrong time, an interloper, a gnat.

“You have nothing monster, just words and cheap magic tricks,” Evelyn stands defiant.

The darkspawn magistrate roars in anger.

"Boss, why are you kicking the hornet’s nest?" The Iron Bull asks.

From behind a broken wall, the hissing rumbling red lyrium dragon crawls up, jumps straight at the Inquisitor.

Ooo, lucky I brought my dragon, she smirks. Mythal’s champion flies at the red lyrium dragon, catching him by the neck, takes him to the ground. The two beasts tumble off a ledge and into the air. An air borne ballet of dragons opens the battle.

Ire oozes from Corypheus, “A Dragon, how clever of you. It avails you nothing.” A hail of lightening and ice toss everyone across the ground like toys

As they regain their feet a pack of demons attacks. Corypheus rains columns of burning light across the field. When they defeated all the demons Corypheus is forced to retreat to higher grounds. They pursue.

Evelyn thinks it disturbing the fight goes quickly their way. What hubris, Corypheus brings nothing new to the fight, nothing they hadn’t fought before. It proves only that he is a mage, powerful, yes, but nothing special. Did he believe his dragon would wipe them out instantly? No contingency if the dragon failed? Why is the Well so anxious, why is the Well mad with fear?

Corypheus’ anger steers him in battle. His magic dangerous but anger dictates his attacks. Rage melts away battle strategy leaving him helpless to a mage, a rogue and two warriors who fight for the whole of Thedas. Corypheus fights for revenge. Perhaps that was why he fell so quickly.

The battle in air between dragons draws to an end. The Champion entwines with the red lyrium dragon crashing them to the ground. The red lyrium dragon rolls away mortally wounded. The Champion disappears. The once dragon, now Morrigan lays quietly on the ground. Help won't reach Morrigan until the red lyrium dragon is destroyed. Not so hard, Sera with her thousand cuts took down a lesser dragon in under a minute – that was an awesome sight to see.

The inquisitor drove in the final cut, darkspawn blood spurting across her armor. “Just great. Better not stain my new armor.” Joy, oh joy, sarcasm going full steam.

Sensing defeat, Corypheus draw the Inquisitor close. He flings the others down the embankment. Corypheus and Evelyn are alone, one on one. The Breach widens above, threatening to engulf them both.

Mythal’s dragon stole his life’s reservoir. Corypheus is vulnerable to death. His fighting becomes deranged, panicked. Knowing his electric vulnerability Evelyn rains continuous sparks. Mana and energy spent he can't cast the simplest spell. The anchor comes to life, steals the orb. Without the orb’s magic the ancient Tevinter mage crumbles to the ground.

Evelyn stands over him. “You are defeated, monster.” She wills the orb up to the breach. The anchor pushed the orb up until it touches the breach. Opposing energies explode into light. The breach disappears and the orb returns to the anchor.

Weakness keeps Corypheus on his knees, only his anger is strong, “I am never defeated. I will come back.” In desperation he appeals to his god Dumat, the very god he claims is without power.

“Your dragon is gone. There is nowhere for you to go. You die today.”

Corypheus laughs, “I pity you. So much hidden from you, so much you don’t know. The Well of Sorrows cannot shield you, Vessel, even they know it. Consequences, Inquisitor, consequences. I will not go into oblivion alone. Follow me into obscurity, lose everything as I have lost everything.”

This is her moment and nothing he says takes that away, “Threats don’t frighten me. Next time try sarcasm. You wanted into the Fade? Well here you go. Bon voyage, buddy!”

Evelyn thrusts the anchor at Corypheus, its power glows and crackles, crushing and melting his body. His essence melts into the Fade and vanishes.

The magic holding the temple ruins wanes. Buildings and rock descend to the earth.

Evelyn looks for her companions. Blackwall, Sera and the Iron Bull are too far away to aid her. Bricks and mortar crash around her.

Evelyn falls on her back, the orb rolls from her hand. Eyes focus on the orb. She hears a voice, clear, distinct and loud, “Save it!” The Well of Sorrow gives her body strength. Rocks crash around. She crawls, reaches for the orb.

A rock crashes between them, she looses sight of the orb. She recoils, drawing into a ball, protecting herself.

The magic exhausted, everything touches ground. The dust settles, the world grows silent.

Blackwall is first to his feet. "We're alive!"

“That was close,” Iron Bull says.

“Coryphifish gone for good.” Sera says brushing off the dust.

“Speaking of which….” Blackwell looks where he last saw the Inquisitor. From a distance he sees her. She kneels motionless staring at the ground. He rushes to her, puts his hand on her shoulder. "Inquisitor, are you alright?”

She remains still, staring at an elven mosaic embedded in the ground. “He’s coming,”

“Whose coming?” Blackwall tightens his hand on her shoulder trying to draw her attention. Her brows furrow trying to remember who is coming.

“I don’t know. A voice said. The Well, I think. Spoke clearly.” When her vision clears she's confused by a mosaic of Mythal embedded where she kneels. Why would an elven mosaic be in the Temple of Ashes? She runs her hand across the gold, mosaic untouched, undamaged by the battle, unharmed by falling debris, not even a spec of dust. Mythal's icon in the once central hall of the Temple of Ashes, hidden under the statue of Andrastre.

Blackwall squeezes her shoulder and offers his hand to her. She accepts his assistance to stand. "Inquisitor, we survived."

Sera, always annoyed by magic stuff growls, “What she going on about? Elfy stuff again? Come on!” Sera spots Inquisition people gathering at the bottom of the hill. She takes Blackwall by the arm and drags him away. Iron Bull trails behind.

Evelyn stands, still confused by the voices, confused by the mosaic. She remembers the orb and turns to find it.

She finds Solas standing over the broken orb. Dear Maker, where did he come from?

He kneels to examine the pieces.

“Solas,” she says softly. “I’m sorry about the orb.”

“It’s not your fault.” He looks at the pieces, maybe willing them to mend. Giving up he stands leaving the useless broken pieces on the ground. He focuses on her.

“It was not supposed to happen this way. No matter what comes, I want you to know you shall always have my respect.” His expression abruptly changes to something dangerous.

“Solas? There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Inquisitor?” Evelyn turns to see Cassandra coming up the hill. “You're alive!”

Evelyn walks to meet the Seeker. Her companions and friends join them. Morrigan, no longer a dragon is there, injured but alive.

Cassandra embraces Evelyn. “Thank the Maker. You did it!”

Cassandra’s hug surprises Evelyn. Unexpected, but not unpleasant. Seems hugs are a good thing. She turns back to Solas. He's gone. He left. He said nothing. The Orb’s pieces lay forgotten. For the first time that day, the Well of Sorrows is silent.

Josephine makes her wear a dress. Josephine told Evelyn that a dress tells all of Thedas that the Inquisition is now a peace keeping organization. The Inquisition fulfilled its first two goals, close the breach and find who’s responsible. The third is returning order to Thedas. Without Corypheus, its politics and the Game from here on out.

Fortunately, it isn't a Orlesian ball room dress. Her dress is a deep blue with gold embroidery and lots of material. Sleeves fall just below the elbow, a scoop neck corset and drop waist accenting her long slender torso. Tasteful but not over the top.

Evelyn refuses to wear the two petticoats, the gloves, or the cape, because too much for me to manage. Definitely not wearing high heel shoes. "High heels hurt treacherously which is why nobility wear them. The higher the heals the greater the threat. High heals say, 'mess with me you get poked to death.'

"Manners, Inquisitor, manners. The whole of Thedas looks your way. From now on you'll wear more courtly attire. Besides, dresses are very becoming on you." Evelyn growls while Josephine fusses with the dress. "Come, let us present you to our guests."

A mix of diplomats, nobles, and wealthy patrons attend the Inquisition's victory party. Much to Josephine's ire, Evelyn insists invitations are extended to all of her companions including Sera, The Iron Bull, and Cole.

Except for the formalities and the nobles, Evelyn enjoys herself, enjoys time with friends. It's a rare occasion that the whole team is together and no one is getting stabbed. No War Council is scheduled in the morning.

Conversations turn to the future. Most intended to hang around a bit but all have eventual plans. The Iron Bull, Cassandra, Cole, intend to remain with the Inquisition. Others look away from Skyhold: Dorian to Tevinter, Varric to Kirkwall, Blackwall to the Wardens, and Sera to bother nobles. All of this, the Inquisition, Skyhold, faces change.

All evening she watches the Commander standing sentry, solitaire by the front entrance speaking to few. Of course, he detests formal affairs. Before she left to fight Corypheus, when she needed him he spoke to her. Grateful of his support in the garden, she approaches Cullen, speaking as the Inquisitor. "Thank you, Commander, the Inquisition's army is now a force to be reckoned with and it's all due to you. Thedas is forever in your debt. You never let us down, you never disappointed."

“I appreciate that, Inquisitor. That means a lot to me. Of course, without you none of this would be possible."

"There is something, Commander. The soldiers you send ahead of us, they stood up to Corypheus before we arrived. Many died. Is there something we can do for their families, acknowledge their bravery? Is there something I can do?"

"The families would be grateful for a personal letter from the Inquisitor. You are a hero in their eyes. It would mean a lot."

"Thank you, Commander. I'd like to do that...now that I have time."

"Of course. Come by my office anytime. We can discuss this or anything you want to talk about," Deep feelings are not betrayed. He wonders if this is how Circle mages in love feel, standing close but not touching what you love? "I don't want to take too much of your time. I'm sure there are others hoping for your attention as much as I... I won't keep you."

"Thank you." Evelyn replies.

"The dress...you look very nice. I'm sure Josephine is pleased."

"Thank you, Commander. Josephine is very pleased to capture me in a dress I can't get out of without help. I'll must hire someone to rip me out of this contraption. That'll show her."

They look at each other for a moment. With nothing else coming, she shakes his hand. This is the Cullen she knew, the one she met in Haven, proud of his soldiers, proud of himself. He's getting better. At the very least, maybe they could rebuild their friendship.

Two steps away Vivienne waits for her. She wears an elaborate ornamental divided hennin headpiece, beast’s horns, towering above everyone in the room. The message is clear: mess with me and get stabbed by my deadly horns. Wearing the highest, tallest heals in the room, what Vivienne doesn’t say aloud is clearly expressed visually.

“Congratulations my dear, what a great victory for you.

"A great victory for all of us. You included.” No reason to despise Vivienne so Evelyn is generous.

“That is kind of you, my dear. I hear Anders left for Weisshaupt.”

And Vivienne goes for the jugular, Evelyn thinks. "Yes, Vivienne. He is a Grey Warden. It's where he belongs.”

The Iron Lady steels herself to drive in the killing strike. ”Ever wonder how Anders was found, how he was discovered?”

Wow, Evelyn thinks. Absolutely astonishing. After all this, she plays the Game. Time to quit playing. "Me. I am the reason Anders was caught.”

Vivienne’s stunned face is priceless. Someone steals her favorite toy, stops her thunder. A calm demeanor changes to wide eyes and open mouth. If for a brief second.

“Well, aren’t you clever? The famous story of the Herald of Andraste’s exodus from the Circle, every treacherous step dramatized to those who would listen. Captured by rogue templars in the Vinmark Mountains. Rescued by apostate’s living in caves. How many Spirit Healers do you think exist in Thedas? Your prideful tale led soldiers right to the poor man.”

Interesting that Vivienne lost her composure for a moment. Evelyn won't forgetting this. Evelyn is good at looking at variables and fitting them into the big picture. It's why Ostwick Circle chose her to go to the Conclave. It's why she makes the big decisions. She knows the truth behind Vivienne's game. Vivienne's words are harmless.

“Thedas can no more exist without the Circles than survive without water. But this isn’t about mages or the Circle.” No use exchanging barbs. No more fighting, clarify the situation, diffuse the bomb.

“All of this, from joining the Inquisition to Anders secures you a place at the table. I kept wondering why a dying Bastien didn’t profess love or gratitude, a thank you for the potion you made to save him. He said, ‘It’s going to be alright.’ Your ambition worried him. A snowy wyvern heart is an ingredient for a potent youth potion. A potion for you, right, because a youth potion cannot save a dying 80 year old man. His sister and his son believed you tried everything to save him. That little show won their support. Before the Circle you were a poor merchant's daughter. The Circle saved you, open doors for you. The Circle did nothing for me. I can’t relate to your ambition or drive.”

“So says a woman disowned by a great Noble family, and can’t hold on to an ex-Templar suffering from lyrium withdraws.” Vivienne bites back.

“Ouch, I deserve that. Does sounds like I'm being mean." Evelyn says knowing Vivienne's ammunition is spent. "You’re the luckiest mage in Thedas. The Circle isn’t your home. You see the tower, not what’s inside. You can't relate to Anders' torture or sexual abuse by Templars. You’ll never be a mage whose new born baby is taken by the Chantry. Or me, lost in limbo for fourteen years. History remembers people who sit at the table. You must sit at that table. Take the seat, Vivienne, I'm not stopping you. Try to do some good.”

Got balls to say this to Vivienne, it must be followed by a hug. Vivienne stiffens like an ancient tree, proof that Vivienne once lived in the Circle.

Evelyn leaves Vivienne in the care of her patrons. She walks down the hall speaking to a few more people before heading to Leliana. “Spymaster, may we speak in private?

"Of course. Hall of Murals?” Leliana suggests. The two move into the room Solas once occupied.

"Any word on Solas?"

"None, but I'll keep looking. Odd that he would just leave without a word." Leliana says.

"Yes. Odd. Left nothing but his murals. I do love these murals." She is momentarily distracted by the pictures.

"Josey managed to get you into a dress. I'm sure she's thrilled."

"Josephine is very pleased...mostly that I can't get out of the dress without help. An evil plot to keep me from sneaking away. Unbeknownst to her I own scissors!"

Leliana smiles. “Scissors. Of course. So, enjoying your party?”

“Of course, this is all lovely," She adds with thick sarcasm, "Oh boy, do I love little cakes!”

“I'm not so easily fooled, Inquisitor. Out with it.” Leliana says.

“You discovered I have plans. Hopeful plans since I wasn't sure if I would be dead, wounded, or alive. What tipped you off?"

“There were clues: Cecilia left for Haven when you returned. A kitchen busy preparing a celebration sent a variety of dried fruits and a water skin to your room. I'm guessing a travel bag hides nearby. And there is truth in your sarcasm.”

“Josephine's wants me for her co-ambassador, ugh. And the ole' one day templars whisking me off to the Circle.”

“Uh huh....and?" Leliana says.

Evelyn's tone turns serious, "Running seems prudent considering Vivienne is a candidate for the Divine. A mage as Divine sounds like a long shot but proves her political clout.”

"So you heard about Vivienne. It's not public information yet."

“Elected or not, she’ll see me to a Circle. This whole time we battled to save Thedas she manipulated a place for herself. It’s why she joined. Everything staged from the first time I met her at Ghislan Estate to Anders to tonight. I’m not a threat...I am her pawn.” Calm down, Evelyn admonishes herself. No reason to set the little cakes on fire much as they deserve it.

"I should never have doubted your skill of the Game."

"Liliana, you know I'm not skilled at the Game, but I can tell when the Game is afoot. I also know that one day four templars will show up in Skyhold telling me it's time to go back to the Circle."

"I don't agree, but I can see you believe. So when do you plan to leave for Haven?" Leliana asks.

"Planned on late tonight after the party. But, I'll postpone until I meet with Josephine tomorrow. I'll see all the dreadfullness she has in store for me. I'll arrange for some time in Haven, like a normal person."

“Very mature of you. What about the Commander?

“Don't know. I'm happy he's getting better.”

“You don’t want it to be over.”

“Heard the expression, you don’t die from a broken heart, you just wish you would? In the Circle, two mages in love see each other every day but it's a love that cannot grow. Eventually they pray to end these beautiful feelings. Suicide or what we call The Mage's Exit. Circle mages don't die from a broken heart, we die from a love that is inches away.

“I'm lucky. Outside the Circle I had what no Circle mage dares to dream. I loved Cullen in the fullest possible way. However brief. Mages are good at brief. I'm not going to stand around here and have people feel sorry for me because I have a broken heart. It's time for me to live while I can.”

After Leliana leaves, Evelyn remains to ponder her fate. She shares with no one that the Well of Sorrow pushed her to save Solar's orb. Solas warned her the Well may have influence over her. He said she is subject to it's will and the will of Mythal. Best to not think about it.

She gazes at the murals. They depicted the Herald of Andraste progression from Haven to.... Her eyes stops on the final mural. Is that a sword piercing a dead dragon? Makes sense, its Corypheus's dragon. A huge wolf looms over the dragon. If the final mural is unfinished does this mean Solas will be back? Odd. Something bothered her.

The hair on the back of her neck stands up and a cold passes over her. Solas was in the ruins with her minutes after Corypheus died. He either knew she would defeat him or.... Wait. She looks again. It's a wolf. Or is it something else? Where is the Inquisitor? Is there another message in the mural? She looks at all the other pictures in the hall. Did all the murals say something she's missed?

Chapter Text

Two weeks after the Inquisition Defeats Corypheus.
Cassandra and Cullen sit patiently as Josephine places three stacks of letters on the desk. She points at the closest stack. “Do you know what these are? Invitations to receptions, balls, ceremonies.”

She moves those aside and points at the second, “Requests for audience from city officials, heads of state, and wealthy patrons, Inquisition's patrons.”

The final pile is pushed ahead of the others. “These are petitions, engagements, and appointments that require the Inquisitor's personal response including five marriage proposals. That’s right, five marriage proposals. How do I respond? Diplomats, representatives and I are no substitute for the Inquisitor.”

Cassandra has no sympathy. Her attention is focused on the future of the Seekers of Truth. Revelations from the order’s Book of Secrets forces her to reconsider the order’s future.

Cullen understands the ambassador’s plight, but hearing about marriage proposals binds knots in his chest. His personal relationship with Evelyn seems something of the past, one more victim of his lyrium use. He is slowly recovering from his setback. At least he keeps busy overseeing plans to help people affected by the war and coordinating efforts to destroy red lyrium across Thedas.

“Letters and messages to the Inquisitor arrive daily! This cannot go on. Something must be done!" Josephine complains.

Leliana enters the room having overheard Josephine's complaints. "I don't know why you complain. You approved the Inquisitor's time in Haven. While she's on her well-deserved break she agreed to meet and greet area officials. For someone who doesn't like politics, she's doing a good job."

“The Inquisitor ignores us.”

“Josie, it's been two weeks. She's a few hours late. I'm sure she'll be here soon.”

A few minutes later a guard announces the Inquisitor.

Evelyn rolls her eyes as Cullen jumps to his feet triggering everyone following suit. She waves them to sit. “Good to see you all. Sorry I'm late, afraid I had a chicken problem in Haven."

Cullen asks, “You have chickens?”

Evelyn answers, “Yes, Josey, Cassy, Cully, and Lilly. Cecilia's caretaker since I'm in Haven only occasionally.”

He's further entertained, “You named your chickens after us?”

Delighted with a bit of fun bantering, Evelyn says, “Of course I did!”

Leliana interrupts. “Much as we delight in our warm family reunion, we have two items to discuss. First, Ferelden is complaining about the Inquisition. They don't like us in their territory. They think someone should have jurisdiction over us."

"That was fast. Didn't we just defeat Corypheus?" Cullen asks.

Leliana continues, "Some still distrust a mage Inquisitor. Bottom line, the Inquisition must think about the future, consider long term goals."

"Second," Cassandra says, "Leliana and I leave for Val Royeaux this week. Divine elections are upon us. But, before we settle in, let's allow our traveler to freshen up a bit. I'll have the kitchen bring up some refreshments. Let's reconvene in the war room in thirty minutes.”

After the Council finishes its business, Evelyn sits with Josephine to go over the letters. The pile is divided between them.

"I'll take care of these letters." Evelyn agrees. "Putting those marriage offers aside for now." Once Josephine is satisfied, Evelyn excuses herself and heads to Commander Rutherford's office.

Cullen's standing by his bookcase when she knocks and enters his office. "Commander, do you have a moment? May I speak with you?"

Cullen's idle distraction at the bookshelf abruptly ends at the sound of her voice. He wants to speak with her but he hadn't yet built up the nerve. She deserves an explanation why he treated her so terribly. He doesn't deserve forgiveness, but if he can he wants to earn it. "Of course, what can I do for you"?

"Commander... Cullen, there is a templar who wants to meet you. I'm hoping we can arrange something."

His need to speak with her is quickly forgotten by this odd request. He's instantly concerned. Evelyn is comfortable around templars working with the Inquisition but avoids contact with any others. "Where is this templar?"

“He's in Haven. He can't travel here because... Well, it's his story to tell, not mine. I know him from the Ostwick Circle. His name is Brooks. Will you agree to see him?"

"You're asking me to go to Haven?"

"As I said, he is unable to travel here. It's a lot to ask, but as soon as you can, yes. As a personal favor for me."

He can not deny her the request. "I have things to take care of but I could go tomorrow." He says.

"Thank you. I must return immediately, but I'll meet you there. My cabin is apothecary Taigen's old cabin. Had it rebuilt. You remember it? Outside Haven right before the memorial. It's hard to miss. Cecilia painted the fence green. I'll see you as soon as you arrive. And, Cullen, thank you."

.

Haven
The next morning Cullen rides from Skyhold to Haven. What used to be over a day's ride by horse over rough terrain is nearly half the time. The merchant, Belle, petitioned the Inquisition to build a safe and easy to travel road for visitors and traders.

Cullen agrees to meet the templar but his intention is to speak with Evelyn. To apologize, personally. If he has the nerve. Will she listen to him? Can she forgive him? Will she run into his arms? Yell and scream? Throw chickens at him? Can one throw chickens?

The remission brought him close to using lyrium, but hurting her and destroying their relationship is agony. But Cassandra is correct, he finds a new strength standing on his own and steering his own recovery.

As he nears Haven he finds the green fence bordering the road. Farther down the road he spots the Haven Monument. He enters the green gate and rides to the cottage a short distance away.

Cullen dismounts just as the cabin door opens. A smiling Evelyn greets him.

"Cullen! How are you? Are you hungry? I'm learning to cook! I got food. Hmm, fruit may be safer."

"No, thank you. I'm fine. How are you?" Her warm welcome dispels fear of speaking with her. Even if there is nothing else, she expresses a friendship he cherishes. In his heart he will accept that if everything else is lost.

"I'm great. Come and sit for a moment."

"I appreciate that but I'd like to see this templar. Brooks?"

"Yes, Brooks. Follow me." She walks him toward a stable with four stalls and a generous overhang for livestock. The last stall door is slightly ajar. Evelyn pulls the door further open. "Brooks? Are you awake?"

Curious, Cullen steps closer. A smell hits him that reminds him of the old cells under the Kirkwall Gallows filled with debris and human filth. A thin man with long unkempt hair, unshaven face, and dirty clothes attempts to get to his feet but instead slumps by the door. Cullen is shocked at the sight.

Evelyn explains the pitiful sight, "He stumbled into Haven looking for the templar in charge of the Inquisition Forces. Town folks pointed him here. He's in a desperate state. I offer food and clothing but he wants only to find you." Evelyn turns to Cullen, "He wants to speak with you because you quit lyrium."

"Not so successfully," He says.

"I don't know if you can help him, but at the least share what you've been through and how you've survived. Please." Evelyn leaves him with Brooks.

An hour later, Cullen knocks on the cabin door asking for food and water, and later asking for clean clothing. When the evening becomes night he returns again, asking for one more thing. "Do you have a spare blanket?"

"I do. May I take it to him?" She asks.

"Of course. I'll walk you out."

Evelyn finds the stall is clean. Brooks is washed and wears clean clothes. He lay sleeping but his body trembles and twitches. Evelyn gently stretches the blanket across his frail frame.

As the blanket falls over his shoulders Brooks speaks in a weak voice, "Thank you."

Evelyn's chin quivers. She wipes her eyes before turning to Cullen. "You should come in and have something to eat."

Cullen follows her inside and sits at the table. She places in front of him a simple meal of bread and cheese, and a cup of water. She sits down with him.

"No one should suffer like that." She says. "Did you ever....hurt that much?"

"I had support and I wasn't living on the street, but I know that pain." Cullen answers quietly. "Brooks told me what he did to you in the Circle."

A shiver spreads goosebumps across her arms as the memory passes before her. "It wasn't the worse, but it was the first."

"Will you tell me what happen?"

"My first year. The Year from Hell. Angry, defiant, I challenged everyone. Brooks caught me taking a library book into the hall. I wasn't leaving or stealing the book. Didn't matter. He was the authority and I smarted off. He backhanded me. I went about three feet before I crashed into the wall. I wasn't that badly hurt but it was my first lesson as to my place in the world. Took a few more 'lessons' before I got it. By the time I was twelve I learned to keep my mouth shut and my head down."

"Twelve years old? You went in when you were ten?" He can't imagine a full grown templar backhanding a ten year old child.

"Yes."

"But you're helping Brooks. Aren't you angry at him?"

"No. I don't wish him to suffer like that even for what he did." She says.

"The Chantry used lyrium to control us." Cullen stresses, "They offer no help for any templar who wants to or must stop using lyrium. Look at Brooks! I don't know how not to be angry."

"When I was first with the Inquisition I witnessed a templar strike a Revered Mother while the Lord Seeker looked on. I boiled with anger. Wanted to burn them all to a crisp. But didn't. After they left I offered help to Mother Hevara. Helping stopped the anger, healed my soul. Seems a better choice."

"What I did to you... I said terrible things. Refused you my friendship. Everything we had. Did you hate me, weren't you angry?"

"You reminded me of Brooks towering over me. I knew you were lost in a Lyrium Rage. When I really needed you, you came out long enough to help. What ever happened, Cullen, I've long forgiven you."

"You cannot forgive me. Lyrium etched things deep into my bones. Things I believe and struggle daily not to believe. Without lyrium I am two men: a man who hates and mistrusts, and a man trying to be better and knows who he is." He says. "Anders triggered my hate. Difficult to control, hard to escape. Felt like I'd never come back. Right now I am who I want to be, who I truly am. But it will happen again. Something will trigger my darker side, I'm sure of that. It's part of getting off the lyrium. It's the price. I will pay that price. You don't have too."

Evelyn places her hand on top of his hand. "Cullen, did you share this with Brooks?"

"Yes. About quitting lyrium, what I went through. What I've shared with you. The truth frightens him, but he is relieved to hear it. He agreed to get cleaned up, eat something."

"This is all very intimate and personal yet you shared it with a stranger."

"Usually I don't, wouldn't, but it helped sharing it with Brooks. I believe things will get better."

"Cullen...."

"Yes?'

"What you did for Brooks... You're such a good man. I wish I could explain how wonderful you are, that I care so very much for you..."

"Evelyn..." He places his other hand on top of hers. "I'm here for selfish reasons. I came to speak to you. I treated you badly, I hurt you. I need to explain why because I need your forgiveness. I want you in my life, even if it's just as a friend."

"I've always believed in you."

"Am I forgiven?" He asks hesitantly.

"Nothing you did needs forgiveness. I've simply waited for you to come back to me."

"Then I promise, dearest Evelyn, to always find my way back to you."

.

Six Weeks After the Inquisition Defeats Corypheus.
Evelyn sits at Josephine’s desk reading the five marriage proposals she promised to look over…and chose to ignore. She'd already spent an hour looking at all the other letters assigned to her. She should make a decision about these, too.

The proposals are from various noble families around Thedas. According to Leliana's attached note, four are written on behalf of younger non-inheriting noble sons. Obviously seeking an important marriage as they've no interest in scholarship or Chantry service, both common careers for younger sons. She'd send them all a note that says 'no'.

The fifth letter sent from a representative of the Ostwick Trevelyan family, her family, got her full attention. The solicitor's name she recognizes, Alex Durkee, son of Dwane Durkee, successful merchant who rose above his common status and owns an adjoining estate coveted by her father. Alex was often in the company of her two older brothers. There is no mention of a possible groom.

Evelyn suspects there is more to this. She pens a response...not an acceptance but an invitation for more information. She sits back in her chair amused at the five proposals. Don't they realize Circle mages cannot marry? Perhaps they believed as Inquisitor she's above those rules.

"There you are,” Cullen says as he enters the ambassador’s office. "You were gone when I woke up."

“You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to disturb you. How did you sleep?”

“Slept well, no nightmares.” He kisses her forehead. "You look busy."

"Promised Josephine to take care of these correspondences. Big pile. Oh, you might like this one." She shuffles through for a specific message which she hands to him. "Blackwall sent this. There’s a rumor that some Wardens found viable griffin eggs. Can you believe that? I didn't have time to finish the letter, see if he says anything more."

Cullen pulls a chair next to her and carefully reads the whole correspondence about the Grey Wardens and griffin eggs. When he looks up Evelyn's mood is dark and she shake her head like something is difficult to believe.

"What's going on?" When she doesn't respond he puts a hand on her shoulder. "Evelyn, dear. What is it?"

"This message arrived this morning. You want the good, the bad or the tragic?" She asks.

"All of it." He says.

"Well, the good news is we get our spymaster back and Cassandra gets to re-organize the Seekers. The bad news is neither is the new Divine. The new Divine is Vivienne, forthwith known as Divine Victoria, and absolutely tragic for me."

Nobody expected Vivienne to be the next Divine, he thinks. She was a long shot.

"You're worried she'll send you to a Circle." She never fails to put things in proper perspective, he thinks, colored with sarcasm if the situation required.

"Not right away. She must rebuild the Circles first. That gives me a few months of freedom. I'm sure I can finish these correspondences before four templars show up to take me away."

"Hope you're not thinking about doing anything outlandish like moving to Tevinter. You’re the Inquisitor, head of one of the most powerful institutes in Thedas."

Her mind catches a speck of hope. "She can't send templars because the Inquisition has all the templars. No templars, no Circles."

"You lost me."

"It means she has a lot of work ahead and I have more time." She moves onto Cullen's lap. "Hungry?"

"Not really." He says.

"Hmm. Leliana and Cassandra won't be back for a few days. The War Room has a new security lock. We haven't made love there yet."

"Make up offer for escaping our bed this morning? How is it that one minute ago you worried about returning to the Circle and now I'm about to sweep you up, carry you into the War Room and make love to you all over Orlais? How do you do that?"

"Um...what? I'm lost at swept up by a handsome man and then... Did you ask something else?"

I have no resistance at all. I'd spend a month in bed with her if she wanted. She'd only have to ask. He slips his hands under her legs and with little effort picks her up and walks toward the War Room. She is already kissing his neck and tugging his ear with her teeth. He'd make it 30 feet at most...that would be somewhere in the hall and not quite in the war room.

.

Eight Weeks After the Inquisition Defeats Corypheus.
"The fallout from Vivienne's...Divine Victoria's election was swift." Cassandra explains to the War Council. "We hadn't departed Val Royeaux before a number of Grand Clerics organized a protest outside the Grand Cathedral calling for her immediate resignation claiming...."

"I can guess this. She is a mage therefore cannot hold the office of Divine." Evelyn states. "The pheasants rise and chaos ensues!"

"The Divine's response was swift and brutal. Nobody died, but it smacked of Lord Seeker Lambert's handling of the College of Enchanters. Had she had any templars there may well been blood on the streets. I don't think Vivienne...Divine Victoria's reign will go smoothly."

"What do you mean?" Josephine asks.

"The Inquisition had a rough start. No one trusted a mage Inquisitor. We had to prove our worth which we did, we stopped Corypheus. Something tells me Vivienne doesn't operate that way. "

"On the bright side," Josephine adds. "While Divine Victoria fights her own people she won't send you to a Circle."

"Don't be shortsighted. This is far from over." Evelyn says. "I'm the big prize. I must go to a Circle. She must put me there."

"I don't understand why you think she must." Cassandra inquires.

"We have King Alistair, Empress Celene, Inquisitor Trevelyan, and now Divine Victoria: the four most powerful people in Thedas, right? Two humans and two mages. Thedas has a problem with one mage in a powerful position. Now there are two? Locking me up in the Circle tells everyone that a mage in a powerful position is an exception, not a rule. Vivienne needs to be the exception. She has to take me down."

Around the table everyone looks disbelieving at Evelyn. She drops her head in her hands and moans.

"Now what?" Cassandra asks.

"I just admitted I'm one of the most powerful people in Thedas." She says. "I'm doomed."

"No, you are ridiculous." Cassandra says.

"You did this." Evelyn points at the council at large, "You opened the gate when you gave a mage title of Inquisitor. Vivienne saw an opening and pursued her position like a dragon clearing a city."

"I should mention that Divine Victoria asked me, as a Seeker and the former Right Hand to the Divine, to serve as an adviser. I accepted the position. If this isn't a conflict of interest." Cassandra says.

"I trust you to serve the Divine as you served us. To your best ability." Evelyn replies quickly.

"I'll be traveling back and forth to Val Royeaux every few months." Cassandra adds.

"I understand. If there is nothing else, meeting adjourned."

Cullen holds Evelyn back while the rest leaves the room. Alone he asks, "What's going on?"

"You don't see?" An exasperated Evelyn responds. "I need to make reservations at the nearest Circle."

"The Chantry needs the Inquisition's support." Cullen scolds. "Regardless of your personal feelings about Vivienne, she is the Divine. She represents the will of Andraste."

"So I must check into a Circle if the voice of Andraste says I must? Doesn't Herald of Andraste count for anything?"

They stand looking at the other. The loyal Andrastian who cannot abandon his faith, and the so named Herald of Andraste who faces a life in limbo in the Circle.

She feels the conflict tearing at him. "You know me, Cullen. I'll do what is right. I'll do what's asked of me. I promise."

He gives her a nod then leaves her with her thoughts. Her thoughts are none brighter. What did Corypheus say to her at the end?

"So much hidden from you, so much you don’t know. The Well of Sorrows cannot shield you, Vessel, even they know it. Consequences, Inquisitor, consequences. I will not go into oblivion alone. Follow me into obscurity, lose everything as I have lost everything.”

What have I to loose? The Inquisition, my position, Cullen, my freedom? Return to a circle and to obscurity. Prophecy fulfilled.

Chapter Text

Four Months After the Defeat of Corypheus.
Cullen takes his time shaving at the wash basin in the Inquisition Suite. The blade carefully moves across his cheek as he watches the sun slip up over the mountains. He rinses the stubble off in the water basin. He pauses to look at the bed. She's fallen back asleep. A warm smile fills his face. She deserves the extra sleep. He woke her early this morning. She enthusiastically obliged. Her passion matches his own, and at times her eagerness exceeds his. A blush warms his face. In public they behave appropriate and professional. Alone, that is left outside the door: It's an all-out assault on each other. That's what she calls it. He calls it experiencing love to it greatest depth.

A banging on the door interrupts his thoughts. “Inquisitor! A message. It’s urgent.”

Evelyn sits up. Cullen tosses her the robe sitting on the dresser.

“Just a moment. I’ll be right there.” She puts on the robe as she walks to the door.

“Your worship," says the steward, "Cassandra returned early from Val Royeaux. They want to start the Council meeting as soon as you can get there. Um, something about a riot.”

“Thank you.” As the steward departs she heads to her wardrobe.

Cullen interrupts her march across the room, taking her into his arms. “Good morning. Again.”

“Humm. I like starting my day that way. Minus the steward announcing riot.”

"You know I love you?” He kisses her knowing beyond a doubt she is the only woman he will ever love. She was worth the wait.

“Do that again and we’ll be late for the meeting.” She says.

He takes the risk and kisses her.

“Overdressed for anything quick.” She says tapping his armor.

“That must wait. Riot before more…well, more.”

“I love you, too” She returns the kiss to make her point. "Still going a couple days to Haven to work with Brooks?"

"Come with me. Relax, see your chickens."

"Think about it. Depends what happens in the meeting. You know, riot and all."

.

Council Meeting
"I thought Cassandra was already here." Evelyn complains. "How long must we wait? I haven't' had coffee yet. Please say someone is bringing us coffee. I'd even settle for tea."

"I think your coffee will wait fifteen minutes." Cullen kindly admonishes.

"Says a man who had coffee before he shaved. You drank it all. Not even a gulp left for me."

Leliana giggles at the adorable lovers quipping over coffee. The lover's exchange ends when Cassandra and Josephine enter.

"Good morning." Cassandra says seizing control of the meeting, "Leliana has three items to discuss, but first I have the floor."

"As you noticed," Cassandra begins, "I've returned early from my time with Divine Victoria. There was an incident. A very large and well organized assembly marched to the Grand Cathedral and pushed through the front gate. The protesters sent a decree insisting the Divine step down. They refused to leave until she abdicates the position. Word of the breach reached Empress Celene who dispatched peace keeping soldiers to maintain order: shields only and no swords. Then the Divine's templars arrived.

"Surrounded by soldiers and templars, the crowd got nervous. The protest turned deadly. The death toll was twenty-four and many, many more injured. The dead count could have been higher but Celene's soldiers only carried shields. The Divine's templars were fully armed. Survivor's lay blame on the Divine and her templars. Celene is being hailed for her soldiers' restraint and aid to the injured. All the bad publicity falls at the Divine's feet." Cassandra ends her report.

“The Divine has templars?” Evelyn asks alarmed. "Cassandra, where did she get templars? It takes years to train templars."

“The Divine's underground mage network followed the illegal lyrium trade looking for templars in hiding since the Mage-Templar War. They were recruited with the promise of lyrium. No more hiding, no more scrounging for lyrium. Serve the Divine and your lyrium supply is ensured.

"Rogue templars? The ones out there killing mages? Maker, like the ones who tortured me?"

“As a Seeker I have leave to speak to her templars. Divine templars take a higher amount of lyrium daily than is tradition, a level that equates to instant addiction. Without the Seekers of Truth there is no oversight. The Divine firmly controls the new Templar Order. I complained. The Divine claims it necessary to get the Circles operational. On the subject of Circles, the White Spire is the first Circle re-opened. Her Loyalist mages occupy the Spire. There is room for other mages."

“None of this sounds good.” Cullen says.

Leliana interjects, “I have business related to this. This is a message from Divine Victoria, official Chantry business, requesting information about the state of the Inquisition."

Evelyn is confused, then angry. “What?”

“The Chantry requests information on very specific items: Finances, real estate, equipment, operations, tradesmen, soldiers, templars and mages.” Leliana explains

“Neither the Chantry nor the Divine have authority over the Inquisition.” Cullen states.

“You have a take on this, Leliana. I can tell.” Evelyn says.

Leliana nods then continues. “The Divine needs the Inquisition's support. She'll test our resolve and push us into a position, mainly that the Inquisition belongs to the Chantry. But, you are correct, Commander, she has no authority here.”

“Are you suggesting we ignore the letter?” Asks Cassandra.

“If it were any other Divine except Vivienne I would say yes. A Divine can send an Exalted March if we didn't comply saying we've defected from the Chantry but this Divine, Vivienne, is not like other Divines. She needs us to willing move under Chantry.” Leliana explains.

“Can we delay her? Send a letter saying 'missive received' and we'll get back to her later?" Cullen suggests.

“Not a bad idea. Sensible.” Leliana returns.

A nervous Josephine approves. “Let’s do that. I don’t think I have the nerves to ignore her completely.”

“So it shall be.” Leliana agrees.

“As my nerves are already shattered I dread asking what our next business is about.” Josephine comments.

“Two more items. Next letter: An official request from the Divine to visit the Inquisition.”

“No, I do believe I have a few more nerves to shatter.” Josephine responds.

“An official visit will boost her reputation and she'll be seen as associated with us.” Leliana says. "I told you, she needs us."

“Inquisitor, you’re very quiet. What’s on your mind?” Cassandra asks.

“Antiva is really nice this time of year." Evelyn's attempt to deflect fails. "Fine. The Inquisition’s current goal is to restore order, yes?" While Corypheus rained fire across Thedas, the Chantry, I point out, without a Divine, continued operations. Nearly every city, village and town has a functioning Chantry. The Chantry’s greatest instability is the Divine. Much as we are unsure of Vivienne, we need the office of Divine settled. Not by showing up in force and removing her from the throne. Although it's tempting. But no wall breaches.”

“Support her publicly?” Leliana asks.

“Support conditionally. Push her to operate within her own boundaries. Demonstrate our own authority and independence.” Evelyn suggests.

“Explain what you mean.” Cullen inquires

"She needs guidance but she isn't the kind to take anyone's advice. We nudge her into doing the right thing. She needs to be seen with the Inquisition so invite her but not as the star attraction. Invite her as a guest at another event.” suggests Evelyn.

Leliana chimes in, "So, an event not centered around her. Last letter: Invite her while the Inquisitor’s family comes to visit.”

“Is this is a murderous attempt to ruin my day, again? Bravo, you succeeded.” Evelyn says.

Leliana hands the letter to Evelyn. “Our final business. The Trevelyan Family of Ostwick requests a visit.”

“Today is the worse day ever for letters.” Evelyn says, her forehead on the table.

“We'll arrange a formal reception for the Inquisitor’s family!” Josephine says enthusiastically.

Evelyn shoots her a look. “You remember they disowned me? Erased me from legal documents. Melted down my silver baby spoon."

Evelyn groans and puts head on her hands. "A long overdue stab to the heart. Who doesn't love surprises? Let’s make some decisions here. When is my dear family expected?"

“Five weeks, pending an acknowledgment from us. We could delay them a week or two.” Leliana replies.

“And the Divine during that time?” Evelyn asks.

"I have an idea." Cullen says. "The Haven Memorial's anniversary is next month. The event is already planned. Invite the Divine to give a blessing."

"Very good, Cullen. That's perfect." Leliana says as everyone else agrees.

Evelyn calls for a break. “Let's work out the details, put a calendar together. Firmed this up by the end of the week. We have things to do so meeting over. Thanks, everyone. Cullen and Leliana, stay a moment?”

“Of course.” Leliana and Cullen say at the same time.

“The letter is about the marriage proposal, isn’t it?" Leliana states.

"Marriage proposal?" Cullen sounds confused.

"You didn’t send a refusal?" Leliana asks.

"I asked for additional information. I did not extend an invitation. Does it say who is coming?"

"The note says two family members and an entourage of six stewards and ten guards. The only name mentioned was their solicitor, Alex Durkee." Leliana says.

"See, what is unsaid is troubling. Neither mother or father are mentioned. No mention of marriage. If there is a groom why not provide his name?"

“There is something I haven't told you, Inquisitor." Leliana confesses. "In Haven you insisted you never wanted to hear from your family again. When word arrived that your father died, I didn't inform you. I'm sorry if I was wrong not to say anything.”

"You did as I asked. It's helpful information now. Well, except who is the second family member mentioned in the letter? Let me know if you get anything else. That's all I have for you.” Evelyn says.

Leliana leaves Cullen and Evelyn at the table.

"You should have told me." He says rather hurt.

"You know I received proposals. You know I can't marry. I'm just as upset as you. No, I'm much more upset than you." She says. "Cullen, you are the most important person in my life. You know that?"

"I do." Cullen says but a dream to marry and have a family feels impossible.

.

Five weeks later

The Trevelyan party is greeted at the gate by servants and then escorted to their rooms to rest and freshen up. Alex Durkee, the families' solicitor accepts the invitation to a family reception later in the main hall.

That evening, Evelyn, wearing a simple dress appropriate for meeting nobility, sits on the throne flanked by the Council.

“Another bloody reception.” Cullen says exasperated.

“Commander, this is the Inquisitor’s family.” Josephine reminds him.

“Inquisitor,” Leliana says, “I have interesting information about Alex Durkee. His father died shortly after you were taken to the Circle. As Alex was not of age, Bann Trevelyan became his guardian and trustee of the Durkee estate. Seems Alex is the 'other' family member. Evidence why the Bann sponsored Alex’s education at the University of Val Royeaux."

Leliana finishes as Alex Durkee approached. Alex, a man about 35 years old, attractive, dark hair, with large bright eyes and not dressed as a Noble but as a solicitor. Before Josephine makes proper introductions, Alex bows low speaking directly to Evelyn.

“Inquisitor, it's been many years. I don't expect you'd recognize a childhood friend. Alex Durkee, family solicitor and your servant. I'm pleased to see you again. Your mother wasn't well enough to attend, if you'll pardon her."

Josephine interrupts as no one is properly introduced. “Messer Durkee, I am Josephine Montyett, Ambassador to the Inquisition, please let me introduce you to the members of the Inquisition Council.”

Evelyn shoots an angry look which Josephine ignores. As is appropriate, Alex offers a personal greeting to each member after introductions. Josephine quickly moves Alex away to acquaint him with dignitaries and nobles in the room.

Evelyn looks to Leliana. “When is it appropriate to grill this man for answers?”

“Tomorrow morning at the scheduled meeting.” Leliana answers.

“And my mother?” Evelyn asks.

“Since Lady Trevelyan arrived she's kept to her room and sees only her personal servants. None of my people could get close enough to find out more.” Leliana reports.

“As the Inquisition Spymaster, what does this tell you?”

“My guess: There are legal issues.”

“How does this involve me? I'm disowned! I received no help or word while I was in the Circle. They couldn’t have made it clearer when they sent me a letter saying so. Why now? I don’t understand.” Evelyn finds it hard to hide the bitterness. "Where's Cassandra's training dummy? I need to hit something."

“We're your family, not them." Cullen reassures her. "You could use a refreshment. Join me?”

She accepts his hand and escort through the hall. She leans and whispered, “Please tell me you intend to rip me out of this dress later. Josephine may stop with the dresses if they all end up in tatters.”

Cullen gently steers her away from prying ears. “Must you say things like that out loud? I’ve already thought it a dozen times. The fate of your dresses is the only reason I tolerate these events.”

“How long does protocol say I have to mingle? Say now is not too early to leave.”

“Maker, help me. Now is too early.” He replies. “I’m trying very hard to be a gentleman.”

Evelyn whispers back, “Not sure I need a gentleman if I want out of this dress quickly.”

“You’re killing me, you know.” He says as they walk through the crowd of people. “I leave for Haven in the morning to meet the Divine. I’d much rather stay here.”

“In the morning fine, but say you're mine all night. Post your departure I finding a practice dummy to wack.” Evelyn says looking a bit too serious.

Alex Durkee watches them closely.

.

“You were impatient to speak with me last night, Inquisitor. I apologize for the delay.” Alex says to her at their morning meeting. “I had no expectations to be treated as nobility.”

“Our ambassador insisted. I never stand on ceremony myself. So, shall we begin?”

“Delighted. Your mother, Lady Trevelyan, is not herself nor has she been for some time. I’ve supervise her care as she has no close relatives. I assure you she is well cared for. You may visit her if you like. I wanted to prepare you.”

“I appreciate your attention to my mother. I understand you represent the family. You’re their solicitor."

“I am the family’s solicitor but there is more.” Alex produces a document and hands it to Evelyn. “This is a marriage contract signed by my father and your father. The contract binds you and me in marriage.”

Evelyn keeps her cool as she looks over the contract. “Of course. Nothing like a marriage to thicken the plot. This is all very interesting but I have no interest in marriage, nor can I marry you or anyone: A Circle mage cannot marry.”

“You misunderstand, the document is a legal contract, not a proposal of marriage. Once you were of age, I became your husband. The contract was written before you went to the Circle. A mage in the Circle cannot marry but entering a Circle does not dissolve a marriage or a marriage contract that already exists. Technically we are husband and wife as we are both of age and you are not in a Circle.”

"Right. Skip the wedding. Who wants to wear white anyway?"

Under Evelyn's less than patient eyes he continues. “I don’t do this lightly, Inquisitor. Your father stole my families' estate. My father refused to sell our estate, it was my inheritance. The Bann found another way. He offered my father a path to nobility if he agreed to our marriage. The contract was made. When you went to the Circle, the marriage was put on hold, Bann Trevelyan was forced to find another avenue.

"That's what made you the second family member. All news to me. Thought their anger that I was a mage was due to loosing a hefty investment making me a music and fine arts virtuoso. Sounds like they were angry I hadn't reached maturity to clinch our marriage. Father abandoned me but pursed the land grab anyway."

"When my father died Bann Trevelyan jumped to become my guardian. While away for school, and without my knowledge, he used that contract of marriage to bind my inheritance to the Trevelyan estate. I was executor of your father's will when he died. The terrible truth laid out before me. When Lady Trevelyan dies the estate and what rightfully belongs to me goes to a distant Trevelyan relative. I have spent two years trying to unravel this nightmare. I want my family’s estate restored. This marriage contract is a quick and gentle path. I need only claim you as my wife.”

“So claim me as your wife and produce a handful of children to reclaim your estate? You do realize I can crisp you into cinder then accidentally drop the ashes over that balcony? There would be questions about your disappearance but not a speck of ash to betray the deed.”

“Hold on a moment, I am not your enemy here, Inquisitor. We’re both wronged. We both lost our inheritance. It is cruel approaching you like this, but now that I have your attention I'm asking for your help. Yes, the quickest solution is to consummate the marriage, have children, live happily ever after. It’s not the only solution.”

“If you have another way it is possible you may live through this.”

“I do. Lend me Inquisition influence and resources. I'll work for both of us. Find a legal solution.”

“Obviously my father was a piece of work." Evelyn sits back in her chair and thinks for a moment. "You have the Inquisition's assists in this situation. Know that marriage between you and I is off the list of what I am willing to do.”

“Because of the Commander?”

“Here I thought our relationship secret.” She replies.

“Worst kept secret in Thedas.”

“I saved Orlais and Ferelden so I’m entitled to some sunshine and bunnies.” She says.

“So, we’re friends during this investigation, yes?”

“Yes. Let’s see Leliana. She'll be of assistance.”

Evelyn takes Alex down the main hall and through the Hall of Murals. It isn't the shortest route but she's drawn to Solas’ paintings.

Once in the rotunda Alex stops. “These are spectacular!”

“Murals painted by Solas, an elven member of the Inquisition." Evelyn says. "They're a bit of a mystery.”

“Elven art is filled with stories, symbolism, and hidden messages. These seem to be filled with that and more. Has anyone evaluated them? ”

“Our Archivist interviewed Solas and examined the paintings. He claims they chronicle the actions of the Inquisition.”

“Maybe. You need an expert, like my roommate from the University of Orlais. He specializes in historical elven art. I’d be pleased to bring him to Skyhold.”

“I accept you offer. Something is going on with these murals and I want to know." Evelyn says. "If you're hoping to achieve a mutually beneficial relationship that doesn’t involve marriage and children or ashes you’ve taken the first step. I believe we have an accord."

“In that case, you should call me Alex.”

“Call me Evelyn.” She recalls the letter written on behalf of the Trevelyan family. Her instincts were spot-on. The note is more than a marriage proposal. Alex is a clever man and hopefully a useful ally.

.

Haven
“Commander Rutherford!” Yells a furious Divine Victoria storming into the rebuilt Haven Chantry. “Commander, I will speak with you.”

A calm yet attentive Cullen responds. “Your Perfection, of course, how may I serve you?”

“Is this my schedule?” She thrusts out a parchment.

Cullen looks at the document. “Yes, Your Perfection. The schedule for the Haven Memorial Anniversary.”

Divine Victoria snatches it back. “Welcome given by Commander Rutherford. Histories read by Chancellor Astar. You have Mother Giselle introducing me? Divine blesses the memorial. What then is this? Faithful pilgrimage to the Temple of Ashes Ruins. Chancellor Astar reads the histories. Again? Return pilgrimage to Haven. Do you know how long this takes?”

He responds respectfully. “Of course, as do you. Count on me by your side the entire time.”

“I am not walking the pilgrimage.”

He gently closes the door. “Divine, the Inquisition set this up for your benefit. Administering to the people is part of the Most Holy’s function. You've had little time for your followers with all that’s expected of you. Outside almost a thousand people gather. They wish to see you. Show them the love and mercy of our new Divine.”

Divine Victoria cracks under his administering. “You are the Inquisition's most devoted Andrastian. Do not wander from my side, Commander.”

She begins to leave then stops. “Commander. I trust you are fully recovered.”

“Thank you, Your Perfection. I am well but there is no full recovery from lyrium addition.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about your work here.”

“Yes. Templars unable to take lyrium anymore come to work with Brooks and me. The Haven Chantry generously provides Brooks a place to live and a place for us to talk with those in need. Our service is needed and many benefit.”

“Yes. Who doesn’t think well of good deeds. I expect your escort when it is time. Commander.”

.

Pilgrims return from the Temple of Ashes ruins as darkness has long moved over the Sky.

Chantry Templars surround Divine Victoria but she leans heavily on Commander Rutherford’s arm. Everyone, from the most common folk to the Chantry’s own templars treat the Commander with great respect, and by proximity, she receives the deference due her office. In Haven’s main square a solemn Mother Giselle meets them.

“Commander, may I speak with you a moment?”

“Of course, Mother Giselle.” He moves from the Divine but she simply holds fast on his arm.

“I’m sure this is nothing privileged I cannot hear.” She declares to the Commander and Mother Giselle.

“Of course, Your Perfection, this is no secret.” Mother Giselle says.

Mother Giselle steps closer. “Commander, Brooks collapsed this evening in the Chantry. Healers were called but there was nothing to be done. He’s lying in state in the Chantry. Many have stopped by to pay their respects.”

“Thank you, Mother Giselle.” He says respectfully.

“Commander, we do not know his people. As you knew him best, we hope you’d know."

This time it is the Divine trying to pull from Cullen’s arm but he holds tight.

A templar from the Divine’s guard steps forward. “We are his people. Brooks belongs to the templars.”

Mother Giselle softens at the declaration. “Of course he was. Thank you.”

Mother Giselle walks them to the Chantry. Cullen follows silently with the Divine in tow.

As the Chantry’s highest and Inquisition’s Commander enter people part so the two may approach the alcove where Brooks, a man he's come to call friend, is covered in a shroud. People holding candles fill the room to honor a man whose become a common sight in Haven.

In silence, Cullen stands a few moments staring at the white shroud. He releases the Divine then he knees before his friend. He recites the Chant for the Departed.

“The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world, and into the next...”

Other voices join, “For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water. As the moth sees light and goes toward flame, she should see fire and she goes toward Light. The Veil holds no uncertainty for her, and she will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword.”

A procession of people pass in front of Brooks. Divine Victoria watches as people walk up and lightly touch the shroud. Some whisper to the still kneeling Cullen, others touching his shoulder before they depart making way for more mourners.

Divine Victoria speaks quietly to a Chantry templar standing nearest her. “How do you know this Brooks?”

“Your Worship. All templars know his story. After the Circles closed he had a choice: red lyrium or no lyrium. He escaped Therinfal before the corruption. He wandered years while suffering withdraws. Occasionally he’d find a bit of lyrium but never a steady supply. Repeated withdraws wrecked his body. By all accounts he was a dying man. He heard about a templar in the Inquisition who freed himself from lyrium. Took months to reach Haven. When he found the Commander he found help and hope. He remained and ministered to other lyrium addicts.”

The procession of people continue. Late in the night as the crowd thin the templars remain on guard as did Cullen kneeling in prayer.

Cullen's mind clouds in a world only a templar knows. Lyrium entangled memories. Physical and mental torments from withdrawals that often bring him to his knees. His life crashing in recovery.

“I’m here.” A hand reaches around his shoulder.

Cullen looks to find Evelyn kneeling by him. He falls into her embrace.

She allows him time to recover before saying, “Look behind you.”

She helps him stand. The room is filled with Inquisition templars in full uniform standing at attention.

Knight-Commander Barris steps forward, respectfully crossing arm across the chest. “Commander. We will watch our brother until morning. Let the Herald take you to rest.”

“Thank you Knight-Commander Barris. I leave him in your good hands.” Cullen replies then takes Evelyn's hand as they walk outside and to their cabin.

.

At the height of day, Cullen and Evelyn attend Brooks' funeral pyre. The Divine presides over funeral rites blessing Brooks sending him to the Maker.

After the funeral, the Divine informs Commander Rutherford she's cancelling her scheduled three days in Skyhold and quickly leaves for Val Royeaux.

The cabin is dark when they returned. Cullen stands like a lost child as Evelyn lights the fire and prepares their house for the night. He allows her to dress him for bed. He sits on the bed watching her get ready for sleep.

Cullen looks blank when he finally speaks. “I’m being pulled into that dark place. My mind's filled with dark thoughts. Like I'm walking through Kirkwall after Meredith fell. People despair but I don’t understand. Empty faces walk the streets. The Champion has fled, Anders lives, the city has no leader. I step in as Knight-Commander, work to restore the Circle. My heart hardens as I guide angry templars to a more reasonable path. They don't understand and they don't agree. Months after Kirkwall’s disaster we still find mages dead by suicide, choosing a Mages Death by their own hand.

Cullen turns to Evelyn. “A void filled my heart. No meaning in service. My purpose unclear. I walk through the Gallows lost. I find my first light when Cassandra invites me to join the Inquisition and then I find you. Brooks understood, we shared a common story and a friendship. Yet I am here again falling in darkness.”

"Tell me how I can help you.”

Cullen looks at Evelyn sitting next to him. All he sees is yet another Chantry leash choking his hope for a family. Once the Inquisition gave him meaningful service, now they wallow in politics and the Game.

“Hold me.” He crawls up into bed pulling her to him, wrapping around her. His head lays against her head. His templar discipline steels him, tears that should flow held back. His muscles harden, his chest tightens binding his emotions. It's a long time before he sleeps.

As much as he feels lost Evelyn is desperate to help. What can she do for him? A mage cannot truly understand a templar’s mind. Lyrium is a friend to a mage. Lyrium slowly rips apart a templar’s mind. Brooks understood Cullen’s struggles. Helping templars in Haven is part of their recovery. In a short time Brooks and Cullen are close. They talk about things Evelyn can't understand.

She stays awake in case his nightmare returns. She knows of the demon in his nightmares. What if tonight the demon returns? He's lost in the nightmare and she tries to wake him? What if he doesn’t know it’s her?

In an instant she understands. Never startle a sleeping templar.

.

Cullen is not in mourning as the sun rose. On the contrary, when he wakes he is bitter, irritable.

“Have plans for the rest of the day?”

“No.” He snaps.

“Suggestion. The Chantry's open. Go talk to templars. Can you do that?”

“Are you trying to make a point? Am I not acting like I lost a friend? Should I be sad?” His anger is palatable.

“There are no rules how to mourn. You seem to be handle it by keeping me in bed all morning. Whatever helps. Pretty sure you’ll be up for another round soon. Um, sorry. Bad timing for sarcasm.”

“Don't.”

“I wasn’t trying…" Evelyn sighs exasperated. "Cullen, If you’re going to mope around and be angry go sit in a room with people who need you. Like templars. Do something helpful. ”

“Rather than be UP to it as you so elegantly put it.” He growls.

“Fine, if we are playing the sarcasm game. Go be angry in a room full of angry templars. Angry sex is not my thing. I'm not complaining about this morning. Just not comfortable with angry you. Go to the Chantry. I’m going to hang with the chickens.”

“What is it with you and chickens?” He spits out.

“Have you hung out with the chickens? Never mind. I don’t want you to discover my secret joy and ruin my fun time. Go to the Chantry.”

He says nothing so she goes about cleaning up breakfast dishes then left to dress. When she returns Cullen sits at the table staring at his uneaten breakfast. “I thought I'm your secret joy.”

“Still here? Didn’t I say go to the Chantry? You’re no secret. Apparently all of Thedas knows you bring me great joy. They don’t know about the chickens.”

He gets up and storms over to Evelyn pushing her against the wall. “Seems to me angry sex suits you just fine.”

“Is this heightened virility part of the templar dark side? Depression, anger, sex?”

“It can..." Cullen's eyes lower in shame realizing what he's doing. "Yes, more...that.”

“Then I must stop complaining when my man is moody.”

He lets up. Instead gathers her up in his arms, deeply humiliated at his behavior. "Forgive me."

"Brooks was important to you. You talked to him about things I'll never understand. Be upset, be mad, Whatever you need. Whatever helps. I'll do what it takes to stop you from going deep into that dark place. Tear my clothes off... if it helps. Prefer you tear up the dresses Josey insist I wear."

"I like you in those dresses. But, if it's important to you, I promise I'll tear off every dress she makes you wear."

She smiles. "See. There you are. I'll always look for you in that dark place. There is no where you can go that I won't find you, my love. Oh, that sounded a bit stalky. You know what I mean. I won't give up on you."

"Heading back to Skyhold now?" He asks.

"My mother, who doesn't know me, is in Skyhold for a few more days, so I'm expected. First, this shirt needs ripping apart. Can you lend a hand?"

Chapter Text

Four Months until the Exalted Council.
As duties allow, Cullen continues to work with templars overcoming lyrium addiction. Evelyn accompanies him to Haven whenever she can for a few political-free days.

The day before returning to Skyhold, before the evening's moon reveals the coming night, Cullen and Evelyn part at the cabin door.

"I'll be at the Chantry attending services before heading back to the Memorial." He says.

"I'm hanging with the chickens. We should get chickens at Skyhold. Our troops are a bit bored with little to do except clean their armor for the next parade."

"Don't remind me." Cullen kisses her. "See you later this evening."

Evelyn walks out front to the chicken's house. She hadn't thrown the first hand full of chicken scratch when two Haven residence interrupt. "Your Worship! We need you, please come! A child's in trouble, magic or something."

They take her by the hand nearly dragging her to Haven. They stop at the front gate where a number of people gather.

When the crowd parts Evelyn sees a young man, a teenager, huddled against the fence. The agitated youth puts out a hand crackling with sparks as she draws near. People mutter threats at the boy.

"Stay back!" He yells.

Six feet from the boy a woman on her knees is wailing and crying. "Please, Marcus! No one will hurt you."

"This is your son?" Evelyn asks the woman.

"My son, Marcus. He came into his magic. I don't know what to do. There are no Circles."

"Maybe I can help." Evelyn throws an icy glare at the crowd and they all step back. "Would someone find the templars from my guard, please. Check the tavern."

The young man panics, "No templars! They'll kill me. Mother, you promised! No templars!"

Evelyn sits calmly on the ground. "These are not rogue templars, these are from the Inquisition. They protect me when I travel. I need help keeping these people back while we talk."

"Templars tie up mages and throw them in dungeons. I'll kill them if they try."

"I promise, as the Herald of Andraste, my templars will protect you from anyone who dares to hurt you." She hates pulling the Herald title but it works as he lowers his hands and clutches his legs.

"When did you discover your magic?" She asks.

"Yesterday, my fingers tingled. I couldn't hardly pick anything up. Tiny sparks came out. Mother wrapped up my hands. Today the sparks are bigger. I can't stop them."

Evelyn smiles, "Storm magic. My first magic was ice. I was ten, younger than you. I spent days practicing cooling water. Got pretty good at it. Didn't think anything was wrong. Tragic mistake offering mother a glass of icy cold water. Did you know I defeated Corypheus with storm magic?"

He looks at his crackling hands, "You killed Coryphifish with sparks?"

Evelyn chuckles at Sera's nickname for Corypheus. "That's right, Coryphifish."

"When you got magic did templars come and get you?"

"Yes they did. Gagged me, shackled me, threw a hood over my head, took me to the circle."

"Don't let them do that to me." he begs.

"My templars won't."

As she speaks two templars in full armor approach causing the boy to huddle up.

"Knight-Commander Barris?" Evelyn says. "I didn't know you were in my escort."

"Came down this afternoon. Replaced a templar who was called home. I hear this young man is coming into his magic." Barris sets his sword on the ground and knees by Evelyn.

"Don't touch me." The boy yells.

"Alright. But if you don't mind, let's have these people return to their evening activities. They're making me nervous." Following Barris's example, the second templar lays down his sword then escorts people away.

"What happens now?" Marcus asks the calm Barris.

"We become trail blazers." Barris replies. "There are no more rules for mages. No Circles. You get to decide. I have a suggestion. Would you like to go to Skyhold, learn how to use your magic? We have some pretty talented mages who would help you."

Evelyn sighs in relief His response is unexpected and most welcome.

"Will I be Harrowed?"

Barris considers the tough question. "What if I said our mages will train you so well that one day you'll know you're ready and you'll volunteer for your Harrowing?"

"What happens to mother?"

"Would you and your mother join me for supper at the tavern? See what we can work out? My treat. As I said, I'd like to help." Barris offers.

Evelyn's heart stills as Barris walks to the young man and offers his hand. Despite the sparks dancing across his hand, the young boy accepts the templar's assistance.

"Templars have a special power that can ease your pain, reduce the sparks. Would you allow me to help?" Barris says as he looks at the sparking hands.

"They hurt." The boy says in an honest even tone. "Okay, if it will help."

Trust between templar and mage is put to the test. Barris covers the boy's hands with his own. He closes his eyes. A lay person unfamiliar with templar powers would see nothing. The boy felt a warm energy flow over his hands, calming his newly discovered magic.

"It helped, yes? It's Dispell. We helped the Herald of Andraste close the Breach with that power." Barris witnesses the boy looking up with admiration. Barris turns to the mother and makes a proper introduction.

The second templar picks up the two swords, sheaves his sword and places the second into his belt. He looks to Evelyn for a command or direction and she says, "Have a nice dinner in the tavern."

The young templar nods and heads to the pub.

"This is your doing." A voice says behind her.

She turns to find Cullen standing further back with couple other witnesses.

"When a child is in trouble, frightened, looking for help, you don't shackle them, cover them with a hood and toss them in a wagon. That's not help." She gestures toward the departing company, "That is how it should be. A child coming into their magic. Helped, protected. This is what I fight for. Why can't people see this is the better way?"

"Your influence is making this happen. During the past four years the templars at Skyhold have come to respect their fellow mages. I've seen them before battles talking up each other. They discuss strategy, come to each other's aid. Templars and mages working side by side with great pride in each other. Your doing. You've changed Thedas for the better."

"Maybe there's hope. Makes the last few years worthwhile. I'm so proud of Barris and his templars. I am proud of you and your work with templars recovering from lyrium. I'll never regret recruiting the templars to close the Breach."

.

.

Four months until the Exalted Council. War Council
Cassandra and Josephine enter the War Room followed by Knight-Commander Barris and Enchanter Ellendra.

"Ser Barris, Enchanter Ellendra, welcome. What are we meeting about?" Evelyn asks.

Barris is first to open a topic. "Inquisitor, as you know, the Divine sent a summons for all templars to return to Val Royeaux. After much discussion we've decided to consider this a request. Without the Nevarran Accord there is no formal agreement binding us to the Chantry. We choose to remain here as partners with the Inquisition. I hope that you and the Council agree."

Evelyn nods in agreement. "The Inquisition is honored to have you stand next to us, to serve Thedas."

"Thank you, Inquisitor." Barris responds.

"Enchanter Ellendra, what is your interest in this?" Evelyn asks.

"Inquisitor, I speak for all the mages in Skyhold. The mages anticipate that we'll be ordered to the Circle. We don't want to leave here, this is our home. We mages plan to establish the College of Enchanters here at Skyhold. We wish to continue our mutually beneficial partnership with Barris and his templars." Ellendra says.

"I see a great potential for both groups."

Leliana doesn't miss Evelyn's pleased smile she tries to conceal. Everyone else at the table has a look of surprise.

Evelyn thanks the two and dismisses them.

"This will not go over well with Divine Victoria. You've kicked the bee hive." Josephine remarks.

"You knew this would happen. A Game well played once again. You never fail to amaze me. " Leliana comments.

"I don't play the Game. The Game is about selfish endeavors: ambition, seduction, intrigue, manipulation. It's not helping others or finding solutions that best benefit the people. We agree the best way to stabilize the Chantry is to push Divine Victoria to operate within Chantry’s rules. She bypasses Chantry hierarchy, her own Grand Clerics. There're be no new Nevarran Accord. I know the Divine's methods. She plays the tyrant, by her own rules, and we should be wary. This is far from over. The Divine will come for the mages, including me. They will always come for the mages."

"The Divine hasn’t said anything about putting you into a Circle in two years." Cassandra says.

Evelyn looks at Cassandra incredibly. "Divine Victoria said I'd be put in the Circle every opportunity she could. Once Corypheus fell she abruptly she stops. Please tell me someone here knows the Game well enough to see the set up? When my defenses relax she'll come for me."

A guard enters. "Pardon, Your Worship, Sur Durkee and his guest are here. They're with the paintings."

"Thank you. I'm on my way. Meeting adjourned." Evelyn heads to Solas' old room.

.

Alex introduces his associate, a thin wiry elf of her height who seemed more arm and leg than body. "Inquisitor, let me introduce Dreth Mordine, Elven Art Historian from the University of Orlais."

"Yes, Inquisitor. Peeked in. It's overwhelming. Come, come, come." He barely restrains himself for the sake of courtesy.

"How do I address you?" She asks.

"Common born so Dreth or Mordine, your choice. Come." Difficult to say who led the group, Mordine or Evelyn.

"Sometimes I just step aside and let him go. Better that way." Alex whispers.

They step into the room Solas once occupied and where his murals remain. Mordine begins examining one then quickly moves to the next.

"These are the paintings." Evelyn announces.

"Frescoes, not paintings." He corrects. "Both art and craft. Fine art and ancient craft. Plaster laid on wall. Rests for an hour. Pigment applied to plaster. Race to finish before plaster and paint dry. Must apply pigment in under nine hours. Plaster and pigment join. Dry and set together. Each mural finished in a single day. Yes. One day empty wall. Next finished panel."

No one gets a word in as Mordine continues. "Elf frescoes very common. Painted stories. Caves. Walls. Stories left behind."

He stops at the final unfinished panel. "Look! An unfinished panel? Artist interrupted? Maybe. Paint dried before work completed. Perhaps intentional."

"Mordine," Evelyn interrupts, "Is this the story of the Inquisitor and Inquisition?"

"Says more, says less. Look. First panel we see a great energy. Drops to Mountain. Looks like many eyes watch. Whose eyes? Second panel. Here is your Inquisition, eye and sword. What is the four wolves? Choir of wolves? Part of Inquisition? Wolves celebrate Inquisition? He suddenly turns to Evelyn. "Do you have wolves? Inquisition wolves?"

"No. Inquisition has no wolves." She answers. Already Mordine sees more than she ever saw.

"Humm. More wolves than Inquisition. Next, new event. Upside down castle. Humm. Three handed man? Long scary fingers? Looks like templar but is it a demon or both? Maybe. Interesting."

"Both." Evelyn answers.

Mordine moves to the next panel. "Corypheus. Haven burns. Look at this symbol: Hands in orb? Second orb? Orb in orb? Orb power flows to Haven. Wasn't Haven destroyed by avalanche? Corypheus glows red. Red lyrium?

"Next. Grey Warden shield. Battle of Adamant? Yes. Plants? Castle in wasteland. Have to think about that. Oh, yes, another circle! Huge circle. Very important. Circles within circles? In circle is that Black City? Fade? Both? Interesting. Dark brick barrier between Fade and World. Second barrier gold. Gold is magic. Inside eyes. City above and city underneath. The Black City. Everything important in circles?

"The next simple. Empress Celene's dress. Flanked by her court. Assassin close by. Hiding in plain sight. Weapon concealed. What is interesting is small body and huge dress. Dress overshadows events. Inquisitor not here.

"Next panel. Mirrored fighters? Guardians? Perhaps. Symbols everywhere. Blue lyrium? Shapes above figures. Another circle, a golden ball. Path leads to eluvian? Is there a destination? A place of pure magic?

"We return to the final panel. Large wolf stomping on front feet. Howling? Barking? Is it a wolf? Should be a wolf but I don't think... Dragon killed by sword? Sword symbolic? But is it a dragon? Yes and no. Both. Look. Two things. Dying dragon. Step back. It’s a foot. Whose foot? A titan’s foot?"

"A titan? So what does that mean?" She asks.

"Means? Means many things. Is this about trials of Inquisition? Where is Inquisitor? Why no Inquisitor? Power more important. Inquisition part of the story but the power, your Mark.... You miss the story."

"What am I missing?" She asks.

"A viewpoint. You don't see it because you're busy looking for the Inquisition. Miss what is important. Story is one person’s view. That person sees more than we do. What we miss is painted here."

"Look at wolf in the final panel. Catches the attention. Who is the wolf? Is it a wolf or is it something else? Wolf is a story. Artist is elf, yes? Human's story is wolf dressed in sheep clothing. Elf story Wolf is the trickster. Fen'Harel. Yes. A trickster hiding in plain sight. Now we have something. A viewpoint.

"Odd. Elven culture Fen'Harel never center. Always outside, feared. Look at this final panel. Larger than dragon. As large as Titan. Go back to second panel, four wolves. Four is a pack. Interesting.

"Portrait of Corypheus. Very, very large. Yes. Villain bigger. Big menacing. Bigger says more important. This panel. Black City. Andrastian view? Inquisition view?

He walks back. "Look. Temple of Ashes not there. Panel is about power and not a place. What is the source of power? Everything says something...about that power. What's important? Your mark. Not Inquisitor. The mark.

Mordine opens his arms. "All this is his viewpoint. This is his story."

"Whose? Solas?"

"Yes. Must spend time here. Make detail notes. Sketches."

I guess we're keeping you for a few days." Evelyn says to Mordine.

"Yes. Staying. Sleep in here. No trouble to anyone." Mordine replies as he digs through his bag and pulls out writing utensils and parchment. "No trouble to anyone.

"Keep an eye on him. He'll get lost in his work. Forgets to eat." Alex says. They leave Mordine with the Frescoes, happy as a fish in water.

"How is your quest to end a marriage?" Evelyn asks Alex.

"Progressing." He nods to Evelyn.

.

Six weeks before the Exalted Council
Correspondences between Council Members

Note to Leliana from Inquisitor Trevelyan.
Not fooling me. Official dispatch from Divine Victoria reads like a invitation to Winter Palace fancy affair. Read between the lines. "Most Holy, Divine Victoria the First (doom), requests Inquisition attendance (or off with your head) to attend the Exalted Council (Exalted March is crusade against heretics...we're doomed.) At the Winter Palace (Cullen's survival iffy...doom) in six weeks (time enough to write wills not enough to convert to the Qun). Signed Divine Victoria. Attention to: (soon to return to the Circle) Inquisitor (Doom, doom, doom)."
Signed, Evelyn

Note to Inquisitor from Leliana.
Ah, yes, your famous big-eye frightened I'll-be-sent-to-a-Circle mage humor. Funny the first seventy-two times. Now just annoying. Josey has dress plans for you.
Signed, Leliana.

Note to Inquisitor from Josephine.
Don't fuss, Inquisitor, Leliana and I are wearing dresses, too. I know what's happening to your dresses. Leaving through the gardens tears up your dress. Try to be a lady. If you want to leave early just let me know.
Signed Josephine.

Note to Josephine from Commander Rutherford.
No. Refuse. Not going. No.
Signed Commander Rutherford.

Note to Josephine from Evelyn.
What! Cassandra doesn't have to wear a dress?!
Signed the Inquisitor
PS Really? You think dresses damaged in the garden?

.

Four weeks before the Exalted Council
The atmosphere around Skyhold feels quiet with Corypheus and the Breach far behind them. The rest of Thedas mire in political wrangling. Orlais' Council of Heralds and Ferelden's King Alister's advisors complain to the the Divine about the Inquisition's activities in their territories. Meanwhile, Ferelden and Orlais remain blissfully unaware of a third silent party pulling the strings.

The morning before returning to Skyhold, Cullen and Evelyn spend quiet time in Haven working their garden. The garden reminds Cullen of his family's farm, something to share with Evelyn. Relaxed, a smile drifts across his face. He is happy. Despite dreams of a family are beyond his reach, this is the happiest he's ever been.

Evelyn stands from a patch of carrots, “Stop for a rest?”

Cullen looks up, “Sounds good.”

She runs her hands over his shoulders as she passes, “I’ll fetch us water.”

He stands and wipes his brow. He tucks gloves into his pocket.

They both love spending time here. Days spent keeping a garden, caring for chickens, relaxing by the pond. Evenings Cullen spends in Haven working with templars struggling with addiction. Here with a few days away from Skyhold they take everything in stride. Cullen sits on the garden stool, thinking how lucky he is, how happy they are. They have each other, and it's enough.

She walks up from behind and hands him a cup of water.

“Thank you, my love.” He likes saying that.

She takes a couple steps past him looking over the small garden. His eyes follow her in appreciation.

They spent the morning making love. The thought spreads warmth all over him kindling a desire. Later, Cullen, later. Now is a time for work. Plenty of time for that later. He sips his water.

Evelyn suddenly gasps, her cup falls to the ground, water splashing all over. He moves to her. Her eyes are wide with fear. She seems unaware he is standing in front of her.

He places his hands on her shoulders and speaks urgently “Evelyn, love, what is it?”

Breathless, she looks directly at him, “He’s looking for me.”

Hair stands up on his neck, “Who? Who’s looking for you?”

His attention snaps to a sudden loud crackling from her left hand. Intense pain forces her to extend the arm away from her side. The two-year dormant Anchor comes to life as an energy burns through skin. Magic radiates from the Mark. The smell of burning skin fills the air.

His hands on her shoulders tightens, pulling her attention. "Whose looking for you? Evelyn, who!?”

Her eyes blaze, “Fen’Harel! The Dread Wolf!”

He searches her eyes to understand as the Anchor crackles louder. Why now? Everything is in its place. Even the Exalted Council doesn't worry him.

Cullen holds her tightly. "No, no! We’re happy."

By nightfall, Cullen and Evelyn arrive in Skyhold. Leliana meet them at the gate and escorts them to the Mage Tower. As Cullen helps Evelyn to the tower regretting for the first time that Anders was sent to Weisshaupt. He could help her.

At the top of the stairway Cole suddenly appears blocking the entrance.

"Cole, move! She needs help!" Cullen has no patience to deal with the spirit boy,

"It's the Veil. It's trapped. It wants out!" Cole insists. He speaks directly to Evelyn. "You need Solas!"

Evelyn takes in the words as Cullen pushes him aside. A group of mages stood waiting at the door.

"Cullen..." Evelyn starts.

"We don't know where Solas is. We'll do the best we can."

Evelyn understands Cole. She turns to the mage at the door, "We need a Rift Mage. Do we have anyone specialized in the Fade?"

"We do. Solas mentored an elf mage, Devins. He's here." A young elf mage, younger than Evelyn, pushes through.

"Let's get her inside. Everyone needs to leave." The young elf looks directly at Cullen and Leliana.

"I'll look for Solas." Leliana says in exasperation as the search for Solas is two years cold.

Cullen spots Cole outside the tower. He roughly grabs the boy by his arm, "Why did you say it was the Veil?"

"Breathing together. Stronger in her arms. She is your heart."

Cullen eases up his hold on Cole, moves his hand to his shoulder. "I'm sorry. Tell me what you know."

"The Veil is trapped. Rifts lets the Veil flow. Solas knows. He kept the Anchor safe."

"Where is Solas?"

"Busy."

"I mean physically...were is Solas?" He tries to be patient.

"Hidden. Between. He knows the Anchor hurts."

Cullen shakes his head. Cole's answers make no sense. He rubs his forehead, a headache is coming on.

"She's better." Cole says then vanishes.

The tower door opens and Devins summons Cullen inside.

. .

Two weeks until the Exalted Council.

Meeting with Alex Durkee
“Thank you for seeing me. Your are about to depart for Halamshiral so I won't keep you. I'm here with good news." Alex speaks to Evelyn, Leliana and Cullen.

“Bottom line. The rules about mages such as cannot inherit, cannot hold a position of power or take a title, mages cannot marry or have families are not etched in stone nor are they laws. They are guidelines.

"The Chantry's guidelines help the Circles function better, to standardized Circles across Thedas. Each Circle’s First Enchanter and Knight-Commander use these guidelines as they saw fit.

"A good example is Vivienne's Circle allows her to live with her patron, Duke Bastien de Ghislain. Her Circle allows her because they can. Kirkwall didn't allow mages to visit families but Ostwick Circle allowed mages from noble families excursions home. Each Circle has discretion as it see fit.

"If a Circle strays too far from the guidelines the Chantry can use the Rite of Annulment as they did at the Circle of Dairmuid. The Rite keeps Circles in hand and following guidelines.

"Finely, these guidelines apply only to mages in the Circle. Outside the Circle the rules don’t apply.

"The proof is in the original Nevarran Accord and the multiple Chantry Charters for Circle of Magi. Inquisitor, you are not a member of a Circle so you may inherit. The Trevelyan’s estate is yours."

Alex lays documents on the table. "This is a petition for control of your family’s estate as your mother is infirm and unable to make sound decisions. The second is a petition to reinstate your family’s estate to its original entailed holdings, separating my family's estate from yours. The third is a transfer of deed to return my families estate. From here I depend on your good will."

“Thank you, Alex. Leliana, will you go over these documents, make sure everything is in order. I'll keep my promise to return your family's estate. One more thing, Alex. Our bargain includes destruction of a certain marriage document."

“Say no more.” He hands over the marriage contract. “It is yours to destroy. You've proven yourself a trustworthy woman. I offer my services to you or the Inquisition should you need my help. And thank you for not burning me to cinder and dropping me off your balcony.”

“You are welcome. Alex, may I retain your services to manage my family’s estate? Are there family resources to pay you a fare wage?”

“I would be honored to handle your estate and look over your mother’s care. Yes, you can afford me. We can go over those matters when you return from Val Royeaux.”

“Sur Durkee, follow me to the Rookery.” Leliana takes Alex out of the room.

“Marriage document?” Cullen asks?

“Required sex to seal the deal. He wouldn’t made it two feet from me before you disemboweled him or I burned him to ash."

"Oh. Good to know." He replies.

She furrows her eyes in thought. “What my father did that to the Durkee family... Forced Alex to twist himself to get back what belonged to his family. He turned to deception to get to me. I would have help if he just asked.”

"Once upon a time the Inquisition stood on Haven's open fields. Everyone working out of tents. Anyone could walk up to any of us and we would listen. Now the Inquisition stands behind the massive walls of Skyhold. You live in a fortified keep and I work in a tower. The Inquisition isn't as approachable as we once were. We've changed." Cullen responds.

"Have I changed that much?"

"You give everyone a chance, you trust too much. The the two templars and two soldiers who follow you everywhere are not your friends they are your guards. It's your strength, too. People like Blackwall who did terrible things won a second chance. The Inquisition is stronger because of this." Cullen says.

"So duck and dodge isn't my only people skill. People should have a second chance and that gives me me a second opportunity to know people like Brooks and Blackwall. Gave me you."

Chapter Text

The Winter Palace. Towering golden lions flank every door, every portico greeting all to its gilded halls. Ceilings so vast that birds flying above stir the air unnoticed by the dancing nobles in silk gowns and embroidered coats, their jeweled masks hiding wicked souls. Orlesian intrigues play out in blue painted halls, the Grand Game making and breaking its participants.

Welcome back, Inquisition, to the Winter Palace. Just three years past lifting the Inquisition to highest status. Praising its deeds to all. Now it seeks to tear its hero back down.

Escorted by an Orlesian guard dressed more decorative than defender, Inquisitor Trevelyan walks through the Palace garden crowded with nobles curious of the coming proceedings. She passes through golden gates that couldn't hold back a pack of toddlers.

The guard escorts her to the chamber where the Inquisition will meet its judges. The room’s décor of white walls trimmed with gold is better suited to a wedding rather than the proceedings about the Inquisition's future. Chairs for on-lookers and the Inquisition members are arranged on ground level. Their jury and judge, the Ferelden and Orlais delegates, and Divine Victoria tower over the room on a dais raised twice the height of the audience. Evelyn's neck will ache from looking up. Exactly what they hope.

Leliana worries about Evelyn's grasp of the Grand Game. Josey thinks her ill suited to diplomacy. Cullen worries she'll forget to use the right end of a sword. Looking around this room, the Divine thinks little of her too. Is the Grand Game the better way to deal with people? Conceal your best moves and second options? Placate an adversary through diplomacy? Or take up swords? Maybe Evelyn's just been lucky the last four years. Not good luck or bad luck but the strangest luck ever.

The Anchor's spontaneous flare interrupts Evelyn's thoughts. It sparks and glows shooting painful magic through her skin. The Anchor's extended silence ended several weeks ago. It's taking on a life of it's own. Simultaneously the Well of Sorrows whispers concerns about the Anchor and the Dread Wolf. In that moment, Evelyn wonders what gives her most concern: The Well of Sorrows, the Anchor, or the political machinations.

Mother Giselle gently announces herself, “Welcome, Your Worship, to the Exalted Council. Divine Victoria is speaking with our delegates so she sent me to greet you.”

“Mother Giselle. A pleasure to see you again.” Evelyn bows in respect.

“I'm delighted to see you, Your Worship. The Inquisition remains busy these last two years. I’ve worked with the Commander’s soldiers helping the refugees at Emprise Du Lion and the Dales. I thank your people for remaining to help rebuild both areas. I and many others are witness to your continued efforts.”

“Standing in this room it’s hard to believe anyone notices or appreciates us. I should go to Divine Victoria.”

“In the garden adjacent to the Baths you’ll find the Divine on the terrace speaking with the Ferelden delegate. The Orlesian delegate is speaking with the Tevinter ambassador. If you are looking for your people, Seeker Cassandra, Commander Rutherford and Sister Leliana are in the gardens allocated to the Inquisition. Your companions gather in the tavern.

“Thank you. Mother Giselle.”

“If I may ask, what do you think is the Inquisition’s future?

“By closing the Breach and bringing down Corypheus, the Inquisition fulfilled its primary purpose. We work now to rebuild what Corypheus destroyed. As to the future I think all of us want to serve. We’ll see how that works for this council.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor. Welcome back to the Winter Palace.”

Evelyn steps back outdoors. She exits to the patio overlooking the gardens. She walks down the stairs and toward the Baths.

Leliana catches her as she enters the gardens. “Ah, Inquisitor. I’m glad I caught you. Walk with me?”

As they walk slowly through the gardens, Evelyn shares her concerns. “I’m not sure about this Exalted Council, Leliana. Why did Ferelden and Orlais complain to the Divine rather than talk directly to us?”

"You surprise me, Inquisitor. Shirley you see the real reason for this council.” Leliana says. "Look behind the grandstanding. You feel it, no? The fear. They seek to tear the Inquisition down. But it’s not our army or our vault of secrets, or our connections. There have always been spymasters, private armies, and ambassadors. They are afraid of nothing so much as the hand that directs it all.”

“Who? Ah, yes. Me.” She replies dreadfully.

“Your actions begin to reshape Thedas. Your influence is felt everywhere. Templars and mages working side by side. Seekers re-organizing, sharing long kept secrets. Redemption, atoning over justice. Your handling of the young boy coming into his magic. Don’t you understand? Orlais and Ferelden didn’t go to the Divine with their complaints. Divine Victoria went to them. No one fears your influence more than the Divine. You haven’t stood in her way, you haven’t criticized or openly denounced her actions, yet she feels your reproach.” Leliana explains.

“The Divine nor the Chantry have the right to decide our future.” Evelyn grumbles.

“Inquisitor, we set out to restore peace. Now peace is upon us. It's difficult to lay down your blade and accept things change. We can still work for the good of Thedas without the Inquisition. The time for soldiers and spies is over. The World is ready to move past the horror of the Breach and Corypheus. And so should we.”

“Thank you, Leliana. I should find the Divine.”

Evelyn takes the stairs to the balcony and walks right into Dorian in discussion with Lord Cyril. Bless Dorian, he immediately pushes Lord Cyril aside. “Pardon me but I see an old friend I must greet.”

“Dorian! You’re the Ambassador from Tevinter?” Evelyn is genuinely surprised.

He nearly hugs the life out of her. “A reward for my interest in the South. Just a token. But what is important is I get to see my dearest friend. You do know they circle like vultures, right?”

“All too aware. But I want to hear about you. I’ve missed talking with you so much. No one gossips like you.” She replies.

“Or has such a velvety smooth voice and perfect outfits.”

“You know me. I’d be happy with a flour sack and a pair of black socks”

“Oh you are a challenge, my dear. One I can never let go of. A little present.” Dorian hands her a locket necklace with a crystal hidden inside. “A talking crystal. Anytime you want to hear my velvety smooth voice I’m a bit of magic away.”

“Oh, thank you, Dorian.” She hugs him in thanks.

“Feel free to activate it while you and the Commander are having intimate relations.”

“Dorian!”

“Never mind. I have more fun imagining: The things you and the Commander do would make a prostitute blush.”

“So you know we're back together.” She says.

“I like to think you never broke up. Just a small hiatus while the Commander did his lyrium suffering thing.”

“You know about that too?”

“I lived in Skyhold, my dear. Gossip travels faster than the cold winds. Now, Lord Cyril wants to speak with you. I’m here for you. Good luck, my dear.” After a quick hug, Dorian leaves Evelyn with the Orlesian noble.

Evelyn greets the Orlesian Delegate. “My Lord. Pleased to meet you.”

“Inquisitor. Lord Cyril de Montfort. An honor to meet you. I’ve long followed your work. Extraordinary. Know that Empress Celene and Orlais stand beside you, ready to lend a hand if you need us.”

“Is that the official word, my Lord?”

“Of course. We recognizes the good the Inquisition has done and how much it helped Orlais.”

“Thank you, Lord Cyril.”

“Of course, Inquisitor. I will let you go, I believe the Divine waits for you.”

Evelyn walks to the other side of the balcony set aside for the Ferelden delegate. She finds Arl Teagan and the Divine in polite discussion.

“Pardon me. Am I interrupting?” Evelyn asks gently.

“Of course you are, darling." The Divine says cheerfully. "But that doesn't mean the interruption isn't unwelcome. May I introduce Arl Teagan Guerrin representing Ferelden. The Inquisitor, Evelyn Trevelyan.”

“Your worship.” He tersely replies to Evelyn.

Divine Victoria turns to Evelyn. “Have a moment with the Arl. I’ll wait for you in the lower gardens.”

Evelyn quickly turns to the Arl in a haste to get this all over. “How are things in Fereldan, Arl?”

“All is fine. We do not forget our savior.”

“What is your opinion of the Exalted Council?”

Teagan's tone changes to one of an angry father. “The Breach is closed and Corypheus is two years dead and yet the Inquisition is still wandering in Ferelden territory. We are not comfortable with an unaffiliated armed force within our borders.”

Ducking is called for but she stands her grounds. “Thank you for sharing your concerns, Arl Teagan. We remain simply to help rebuild the areas Corypheus tore apart. Our 'army' is more a 'corp of engineers.' The few soldiers with swords are guarding the larder. The rest carry hammers rather than swords.” She points out gently.

“These are matters best discussed in the chambers. Good day, Inquisitor.”

Nice, she thinks to herself, and goes to find the Divine.

.

“No need to tiptoe about, Inquisitor. Let us speak, not as Divine and Inquisitor, but as two who speak plainly to each other, as few do.” Divine Victoria says.

That is some opening, Evelyn thinks. “Of course.”

“For two years I’ve kept Orlais and Ferelden from bothering the Inquisition at increasing political cost. I’ve done all I could but this Exalted Council is now necessary.

“And the problems being…?” Evelyn asks.

“Orlais sees the Inquisition as an inexperience organization in need of oversight. Ferelden is concerned of it's growing military power. Orlais would take it over and Ferelden would see it dissolved. I offer a third option.”

“Oh?”

“Bring the Inquisition under the Chantry. The armed forces will serve as the Divine's personal guard. Assets, workers, and properties absorbed into the Chantry. Everyone retained.”

“Everyone? Commander, spymaster, ambassador, and Inquisitor?”

Completing ignoring the last bit as she is so practiced to do, the Divine goes on. "Our beloved Divine Justina intended The Inquisition to be part of the Chantry. The Inquisition’s work, your work can continue. You may not see it yet but in the long run I offer the better choice. "

“I’ll add it to our considerations.” Evelyn really means 'no way'.

“Worried for the mages? For yourself? Mages have a greater role to play in the future, new responsibilities. They will not sit idle as you complained was your fate in the Circle. Even now my guards include mages.”

“Mages in your guard like those who interrupted a riot just two weeks ago?” She asks the Divine.

“Exactly. A swift response. No swords drawn. No blood shed, no deaths, no one hurt. The crowd is controlled. Justice served to the agitators. Everyone else released."

“You just don’t see it do you? People accept magic during a blight or war or fighting Corypheus. What you've done is exactly what people fear. Using magic against everyday people won’t end well.”

“Nonsense. I wield magic like a fine surgical knife. Extracting problems with precision not running through a crowd like a berserker. Magic is a better way.” The Divine explains with surety.

“A better way like your lyrium schedule for the templars?”

“The Templars are firmly in hand again serving the Chantry. Templars are needed for both Circles and Chantry. The Inquisition templars will double our templar numbers. It’s not passed my attention that your templars fail to respond to the Chantry’s notice to appear. You should see to this.”

“Here’s the thing, Your Perfection, they are not my templars or even the Inquisition’s templars.”

“Ah, yes. You recruited the Order as equal partners. Generous of you. Nevertheless, they follow your orders.”

“I do not own them. They decide for themselves. They watch how you handle your templars.”

“I see.” The Divine replies.

“If you seek to win templar support then offer assistance to the Haven Chantry's work with templars suffering from lyrium withdraws. A gesture.

“What do you have in mind?”

“You saw what Commander Rutherford and Brooks were doing in Haven. Speak to Commander Rutherford. He knows what is needed. Consider it the goodwill you need to recruit more templars. Show you support them.”

“I might consider it. One gesture for another.”

“One gesture for another?”

“You ask something from me and in return you do something for me.”

“A trade-off? Can't you act simply because it’s right or good? When the right action must give concession to outside interests we are corrupted. You'd have me hand over the templars and in return you’ll help Commander Rutherford do good work? You demean yourself asking me and I am corrupt if I agree. I will not help you in this. You stand alone. Ask the templars, demand, insist, and threat: Your actions are yours alone.”

“You asked my help with the commander’s work. You called it a gesture.”

“I suggest a way to demonstrate your good will. No strings attached. Say no and you prove yourself in no better light than before. Maker, if you can’t see the difference you’ve use the Grand Game as your only way to deal with people. Don’t come to me when you call back the mages. I won’t herd them into your Circle. If you want the mages show you have their best interest in heart." Evelyn says.

“Inquisitor, the mages will be called to the Circle. Your support will make the transition go smoother.”

“There you go again. I am not the leader of the apostate mages. They make their own choices.”

“Now, who is being naïve here? You have influence over both templars and mages.”

“I have influence and the good will of others because I specifically don’t impose on people, apostates, templars, the Chantry, you, or even Orlais and Ferelden.”

Divine Victoria looks sternly at her.

“I've make no decision. Everything under consideration. My soul is not up for trade nor will I be corrupted for the benefit of you, the templars, the mages or the Commander. Find your heart, Your Perfection. We’ve spoken long enough.”

The whole business with Divine Victoria left a bad taste in her mouth. She heads to the Inquisition side of the gardens.

.

Outside the Bath Evelyn spots Cullen playing fetch with a mabari. Despite his large size, the massive dog skillfully catches a ball mid-air. The proud dog jumps excitedly as if to say, “Look! Caught the ball! Caught the ball!”

Cullen speaks to the mabari like he's speaking to a recruit. “You there! You’re to dodge, not catch. If that ball were a fireball, you’d be dead.”

The dog bounces his way back and drops the ball at Cullen's feet. He barks excitedly. Cullen rewards him with lots of fur rubs.

Evelyn laughs joyously, the discomfort from talking with the Divine falls away. She feels far away from the Winter Palace.

“You found a dog.” She says approaching the two.

“They don’t breed mabari in Orlais." Cullen says looking more content than she'd expect at the Palace. "The merchant said he was abandoned. Perhaps his owners tired of the novelty.”

She leans down and pets the massive dog who looks intimidating but is absolutely lovable. “Tire of you? With that positive attitude and fetching ability?”

Cullen scowls as the dog barks in approval. “He’s not supposed to fetch the ball.”

Evelyn laughs again, “You’ve never owned a dog before, have you?”

Cullen continues petting the dog. “Another unfortunate Ferelden trapped at the Winter Palace. I couldn’t leave him to that fate. Besides, I think he likes me.”

The dog licks Cullen’s face. Cullen protests but a grin says he is delighted. Whatever problems burdened the Inquisitor and the Commander is forgotten for a moment.

“You should take him to Ferelden. He should know where he came from.”

“In my last letter I promised my sister a visit. We could bring him along.” Cullen looks sternly at the dog. “She might try to spoil you. Remember who you report to.”

The dog barks and goes belly up for more scratches.

Cullen looks happy and peaceful as he attentively scratches the dog’s belly.

“The Inquisition will change after this. I’m not yet sure what that will mean. Still, I’ve found certainty in my life now. The council won’t change that.” He looks at Evelyn meaningfully.

Evelyn continues fussing over the dog. “When you wrote your sister how did you explain me? Girlfriend? Sweetheart? I haven’t rightly decided what to call you. Partner? Boyfriend? What fits best?”

“How about husband?”

“Husband?” She is caught off guard.

“Marry me.” He says gently.

The dog barks in approval.

“What?” She stares wide eyed as if she is lost in the Emerald Graves.

Cullen’s natural discomfort about emotional topics takes over. “ …I mean...will you? (sighs). I had a plan, and… And there wasn’t a dog. And you were… It doesn’t matter.” He surrenders completely and smiles unbothered by his stumbling.

“I’m a mage…”

“You are not in a Circle. You know it's possible. I’ve thought of little else. Only to know if you would.”

Circle worries dissolve. The Inquisition disappears. The Exalted Council unimportant.

“I would, Cullen, I will.”

“You will?” Cullen looks hopeful and the dog barks his approval.

Cullen and Evelyn look ready to jump into each others arms. They resist the impulse. Too many people close by. Anyone looking would notice they stood but a breath between them. The dog bounces around them barking.

“Marry me, today.” He is more sure than ever.

“People will notice the Inquisitor marrying her Commander in the middle of the Exalted Council. It won't go over well.”

“We know a few people who can keep things…secret.”

“When?”

“Tonight, when things settle down. When the moon is brightest.”

“Who knew you were such a romantic.”

“For my wife, always.”

Takes every once of strength not to kiss him all over, and she very much needs to kiss him. “There is never a closet around when you need it.”

Cullen smiling at the Winter Palace. Someone is bound to figure it out. “I have a few more people I have to meet,” She says.

“I’ll take care of the arrangements.” He looks down to the dog. “We have duties to attend to, soldier.”

Evelyn watches the two walk off, Cullen discussing proper military behavior to the mabari. She's forgotten who she is as she imagines her life not as a mage, not as the Inquisitor. For some reason she can't phantom, the thought of married life feels exhilarating and frightening. Maker, married.

.

In the early evening, Evelyn and Thom Rainer, formally known as Blackwall, sit in conversation outside the Tavern filled with noisy Inquisition people. Leliana sent out a “distress” message across Thedas and everyone showed up.

“How many times did you get hit?” She asks Blackwall.

“So many times I quit counting. But I know how to take a punch. Making restitution isn't easy but I wanted them to see there’s a way to come back from nothing. Tough as it’s been, I’m grateful you gave me a second chance.”

“I believe in restitution, earning forgiveness. Not everyone sees when they've done wrong, that they should make things right. You did. Even fewer find a way to make it right. You have.”

“I’m a better man for doing it, for doing the right thing. Thank you.”

"Anymore word on the Griffin eggs?"

"Officially and unofficially, I can say nothing more about the fact that the Wardens found those eggs. Understand?"

"What eggs?" She smiles in agreement.

Iron Bull emerges from the tavern interrupting the discussion, abruptly picking up Evelyn. The massive Qunari set her on his shoulder and carries her into the tavern where Sera holds up a mug. “A toast to the Inquisitor! To the Inquisition! Big friggin' heroes, us! Next round is on the Inquisitor!” The tavern cheers to Sera’s toast and a free drink.

“Bull, put me down!” Evelyn fusses.

“Promise you’ll drink with us and I will.”

“Promise. Now put me down you big goof!” The Iron Bull sets her down as Sera hands them both a mug of ale.

Sitting at a smaller table near the front, Varric catches Evelyn’s attention and points her to the chair next to him.

“Sit. I have something for you, Inquisitor. As the new Viscount of Kirkwall, I am granting you the title of Comtesse and an estate in Hightown. If things don’t work out for the Inquisition you have a place lined up in Kirkwall. For you and Curly, of course, and the new dog.”

“You know about the dog? Spying on me?” She says in good jest. She accepts his document. “Oh, my, Varric. This is official. As a Viscount are you allowed to do this?”

“What kind of Viscount would I be if I didn’t abuse my position to give shit to my friends? I’ve got traditions to uphold!”

Cole stumbles into their table.

“I can’t drink this!” Cole grimaces at the mug as if it contains poison.

“I already told you, kid. Spirits in human form can’t handle liquor of any sort.” Varric says, “I’ll take care of that for you.”

Cole gladly hands over the mug of ale to Varric. “So kid, meant to ask, why a human shape? Why not the shape of a cat or a dragon?”

“It is the shape that helps best.” Cole answers. Cole turns to Evelyn. “Your hand hurts. It's a heartbeat. Not yours. Hammering the beat of a song in its final verse. I'm sorry."

She looks blankly at Cole trying to reason out what he said. The Anchor hurts but she lacked any reference to everything else. No matter how nonsense it sounds, she pays attention to what he says “It’s fine, Cole.”

“You don’t have to make me feel better. That’s what I do. Varric wants to know about Curley.”

“No, I don’t.” Varric replies quickly.

"I know already.” Cole responds. "Safe and solid, protecting and proud. He feels like quiet, stronger when you hold him."

Out of what seems like no where, Mordine, the Elven Art Historian, sits at their table. “Inquisitor. Busy? Me too.”

"Mordine! Delighted to see you. What are you doing in the Winter Palace?”

“Work here. Halamshiral. Ancient elven grounds. Find artifacts, frescoes. Hidden treasures. Catalog. Record lost history. Busy. Always busy.”

“Did you ever decide if that was a dragon or a titan in Solas' unfinished fresco?”

“Yes! Both.”

“Well, I asked didn’t I?”

“Yes. You did. I’m around. Ask. I’ll answer.” As quickly as Mordine is there he is gone.

“Varric, where is Cassandra hiding?” Evelyn asks.

“Patio. She’s there now.”

“Thanks Varric.” Evelyn excuses herself and sneaks out of the tavern. Down the stairs she finds Cassandra standing by the railing looking over the hills of Halamshiral. Cassandra jumps when she sees Evelyn.

“Oh! Inquisitor!” Wide eye, she is a bit more animated than her usual calm self.

Evelyn notices Cassandra’s discomfort. “I could leave and come back later so you can try again.”

“Always with clever suggestions. Inquisitor. Maybe you should sit.”

Evelyn replies, “I’m fine.”

"Maybe I should sit.” Cassandra sits on the stairs. “I hope to give you sound advice on this momentous day. Do what is in your heart, my friend, no matter what anyone might tell you.”

Evelyn is confused. “I’m going to leave and come back. I think I missed something.”

Cassandra is exasperated at her fumbling. “I’m talking about marriage.”

“Marriage?”

Cassandra looks carefully at Evelyn. She decides something isn't right, her information is wrong. “I am going to kill Varric. Why do I believe everything he says? Why?”

“Varric said I was getting married?”

“He mentioned a proposal. I suppose I filled in the blanks. Or he did this on purpose. That dwarf gets entirely too much joy from my discomfort.”

“Maybe there was a proposal.” She confesses a small bit, for Cassandra’s sake.

Cassandra is greatly relieved. She hugs Evelyn. “Oh! I suspected something. Being Inquisitor has brought you many good things. Take what happiness you can. That is all I mean to say. Advice from a friend, for the days to come.”

Evelyn wasn't going to say anything else. Nothing stays secret in the Inquisition for long.

.

.

“Greetings, Commander Rutherford. How are you?” Mother Giselle greets Cullen.

“Well. Very well. May I have a word with you?”

“Of course, Commander. How can I help you?

“I’m here to request a Chantry service, and secrecy.”

“I believe I am capable of both. What service can I provide?”

“Marriage. Mine. To Inquisitor Trevelyn.”

Mother Giselle smiles with heartfelt joy. She saw them earlier in the garden standing close gazing into each other’s eyes. That the discussion involved marriage made much more sense. “Such happiness you both deserve.”

“We don’t want to distract from the Exalted Council.”

“Of course. Do you have somewhere in mind?”

“Tonight, plaza balcony. It’s quiet, isolated.”

“The rush?”

Cullen blushes slightly. “I would have married her two years ago but for the marriage restrictions for mages. We have precedence that while she is not in a Circle restrictions don’t apply.”

“And if she is sent to a Circle?”

“We’ll still be husband and wife.”

“And you would be happy with that?”

“I gave my life in service to the Maker. I served in the Circle at Klinloch and Kirkwall. I serve as the Military Adviser for the Inquisition. By the Maker, I found Evelyn. The Chantry teaches that a husband gives his life in service to a wife. When I fell into darkness, when lyrium withdraws crippled my life, she stood by me. I would not abandon her during a time she may need me more than ever. But I don't believe she'll be required to go to a Circle.”

“You humble me in your faith and your chosen service. As this is last minute, do you have suitable wedding outfits?”

"We have our Inquisition uniform.”

"The Chantry keeps a few donated outfits. I believe we can find something that will fit close enough. I shall send them discreetly to your room.”

Cullen’s appreciation is plain all over his face. “Thank you, Mother Giselle. We’ll see you at the full of the moon.”

.

.

Cullen and Evelyn arrive dressed in the traditional white with gold and red trim: Cullen in a jacket and Evelyn a dress. Though borrowed, the attire set a tone for their ceremony and honored Chantry tradition.

Mother Giselle greets them on the balcony. “This is a joyous event. The Chantry’s marriage ceremony is simple. You speak vows to each other. We being with a blessing of the Andraste and the Maker.”

While Mother Giselle recites the blessing, Cullen takes Evelyn’s hands and whispers to her. “Just know…everything feels like it was worth fighting for.”

“It was.” Dear Maker, please make this real, that when I wake tomorrow I shan’t be in a Circle recalling a mage’s sleeping dream.

Cullen sighs contented that somehow he is about to be married. “This is…”

Mother Giselle interjects, “This is the part where you make a promise.”

“Oh, right.” Cullen begins the serious job of making Evelyn his wife. “I swear unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste to love this woman for the rest of my days.”

Still not sure she isn't walking deep in the Fade, she vows, “I swear unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste to love this man for the rest of my days.”

Their first kiss as husband and wife assure her she is standing with Cullen. If war erupts tomorrow and the Fade threats to swallow them all, she’d have this moment to hold and remember.

.

The first light streaming through the window wakes Evelyn. The gaudy blue drapes and the golden lace sheers remind her where she is. A warm body settled against her back and limbs sprawled everywhere remind her who sleeps beside her. Turning to nestle against his chest, a contented sigh lets her new husband know she is awake

He's been awake for a long time waiting for her to stir. He has such a great sense of joy holding her while she sleeps, like he safeguards her while her spirit is in the Fade. A morning warmth makes it a challenge to be patient. She never objects his morning attentions nor complains if everything goes quickly. He always makes it up to her.

There is no time for that this morning. Stewards are already around the corner announcing breakfast.

He gently kisses her forehead letting her know her husband is also awake. He pulls her up against his chest. She stretches out against him.

“Good morning, wife.” The declaration brings happiness to her face.

“Husband. Is there time?”

“Breakfast is on its way.”

“You are so in trouble tonight.” She whispers.

“Oh?”

“Dorian gave me some tips.”

“Pardon me!” He is immediately anxious.

“Kidding. He wants to give me tips but I turned him down. Unless you want me ask?”

“No, please. I’ll answer any question you have.”

“You blush anytime we discuss this.” She says.

“Obviously I’m listening.” He blushes just thinking about what she would suggest.

“Obviously you do.” She returns to resting against his chest. He holds her while deep in thought.

“I want children.” He announces.

“Children?!” She's surprised. “Not child. You want children. How many?”

“Five.”

“Five! I'm the youngest in my family. Never been around children. Even the Circle kept us separate. I’ve never held a baby. I haven’t the least idea how to take care of one let alone raise it. One. One child.”

“Three. Three children.” He counters.

“Two. My final offer.” She says.

“Two then. Agreed. I was around a lot of children growing up. I know about babies, pregnancy. You’ll be fine.”

“Pregnancy?” She sighs bewildered.

"You can slay a dragon, survive an avalanche, walk physically in the Fade yet pregnancy worries you?”

“May have to rethink this whole marriage thing.”

“Love, you're not going anywhere. Just think about all the lovemaking required to get you pregnant.”

“Sur, you're suddenly very bold talking about sex.”

“I’d brave a dragon for a son or a daughter. What’s a few new positions or techniques, starting tonight.” He's surprised at his boldness.

“Two children, you say?” She smiles too much.

Evelyn settles down over Cullen's chest. Down the hall steps slowly make their way to their door.

She looks up to him. For the first time she really wants something.

"I want this, Cullen: Marriage, family, home, you. I really want this." Sometimes wedding vows aren't enough.

"I do, too. More than anything. With you." His answer's firm. What was once impossible, possible. He pulls her back into his arms. He seriously thinks to ignore the knock on the door.

Chapter Text

The Inquisitor sits glassy eyed as Josephine addresses a list of concerns submitted by both Arl Teagan and Cyril De Montfort. The Ferelden and Orlais’ representatives sit blissfully unaware of the third manipulating agenda sitting right between them. Divine Victoria looks smug as the two grilled Josephine and Evelyn.

“Arl Teagan, as to your concerns….” Joesphine begins.

“The Inquisition established an armed presence in Ferelden!" Arl Teagan abruptly interruptes. "You outright seized Caer Bronach in Crestwood!”

Leliana met the Arl during the Blight describing him as a champion of the people. Had pomp and politics changed him so much? Evelyn could hardly believe how little the Arl cared about what happen in Crestwood.

“From bandits! We seized Caer Bronach from bandits! Bandits repeatedly attacking Crestwood’s citizens. Between the walking dead and bandits all outside commerce ceased. Your people were starving. Shocking to find out that Ferelden would send no military support to Crestwood. So yes, when I showed up, me and a whole garrison of nine Inquisition soldiers stuck around and helped. When I left two weeks later we left a second even bigger garrison of twenty-eight soldiers to help rebuild the town and secure the roads for commerce. The Inquisition was simply passing through Crestwood pursing a whole other agenda. Staying seemed the polite thing to do when people were dying. So, yes, guilty of staying to help!”

“Your help was appreciated two years ago. Now order is restored yet you remain. Invading under the pretext of restoring order is exactly what the Grey Wardens did centuries ago and we exiled them. Now the Inquisition is doing the same thing with Grey Wardens in their ranks.”

"And now all Grey Wardens reside in Weisshaupt Fortress, since two years ago. Except one. One Grey Warden who arrived here two days ago. Does your King have an intelligence officer? A spy?"

“Your concern is ill founded.” The Duke spoke in the Inquisition’s defense. “The Grey Warden’s proved their worth time and again.”

The Arl didn’t let that go. “Of course Orlais tolerate this interference. The Inquisition is the only reason Celene still has the throne!”

“Rest assured the empire of Orlais will not stand by if the Inquisition oversteps its bounds. Unlike Ferelden, we understand these are the well-intended mistakes of a young organization.” The Duke retorts.

“An organization in need of a guiding hand…your hand, no doubt.” The Arl scorns.

Evelyn drops her head on the table in complete astonishment.

One of Leliana’s spies, a young elf, quietly approaches Evelyn. “Sister Leliana wishes to speak with you. In private. A very urgent matter.”

Evelyn gently stands and apologizes for the interruption, “An urgent matter has come to my attention. Ambassador Montilyet can you handle this for a short time?”

“Of course, Inquisitor.” Josephine conceals her irritation but Evelyn knows it is there.

As the Inquisitor stands to leave the Council resumes complaining.

“This is highly irregular,” Duke Montfort comments.

Arl Teagan is louder. “Are we not even worth the Inquisitors time?”

Evelyn is happy for the getaway but worries why Leliana is interrupting proceedings. She is lead to a small building near the tavern in the Inquisition’s area. It's a single room with a couple of desk, book shelves and an alchemy stand. She spent time in the room yesterday. What is present today that wasn’t there yesterday is a dead body. A Qunari body.

“The guard said we should both see this. I believe she is correct. A Qunari warrior in full armor. The bigger question is how did he get into the Winter Palace?”

“Without anyone noticing? So, what would a spymaster see when she looks at this?” Evelyn asks.

“He is a warrior, not a spy. Part of the Antaam, the Qunari military. Most of his wounds come from someone using magic, but at least a few are from a blade. He was badly hurt, separated from his allies, and made it here before he died.”

“We need to find out what’s going on. Can Josephine manage the diplomats while I look around?”

“She'll be fine. It’s all speeches and posturing for the first few days. I'll ask Divine Victoria to call for a recess. I will also have our friends ready themselves for battle, if need be.”

“You think that’s likely?" Good and bad news, Evelyn thinks. At the least, bad news sounds more interesting.

“I think the Exalted Council will be more exciting than we expected.”

“Anything is more exciting than what I've heard in the Exalted Council’s room. They’re already drooling over the Inquisition’s spoils. Except Arl Teagan. He needs to hit something.”

Leliana takes the situation in hand. “I’ve got this. See what you can find.”

“I’ll see where the blood trail leads. Find out where our dead Qunari came from.”

Evelyn follows the blood trail outside the door and around the building. The blood trail ends at a vine covered wall. She climbs the trellis to the third floor. The blood trail continues through an open window. She climbs inside. In the second room, the blood trail ends at an active eluvian.

“You found what!?” Leliana askes with the rest of the Inquisition Council standing beside her.

“The blood trail led to an eluvian.” Evelyn says.

“An eluvian?” Cullen says alarmed.

“An active eluvian." Evelyn explains, "Like the one Morrigan showed us. Like the one by the Well of Sorrows.”

Cullen continues to the obvious important question. “Where does the mirror go?”

“Don’t know yet. No telling where it goes. Maybe walking into an army of Qunari. Or elves. Or dragons. Could be dragons. I'm good at dragons.”

“I’ll move the eluvian to a secure location with guards posted. Security will be increased around the gardens.” Cullen says.

“Thank you. I’ll leave as soon as I am ready. I’ll taking the Iron Bull, Cole and Cassandra.” Evelyn readies herself for whatever lies ahead.

Chapter Text

Evelyn and her team emerge into an almost dream-like place. Eluvians are scattered around a landscape of jagged rocks, floating islands, steep pathways, high cliffs and ancient walls. Getting to some of the eluvians looks like a challenge.

Cassandra looks around puzzled. “This doesn’t feel normal. What is this place? Is this the Fade?”

Evelyn has a good idea. “I’ve been here before. Morrigan brought me here, not this exact area but close enough. Has characteristics of the Fade but it's not the Fade. She called it the Crossroads, a central transport area. Ancient elves traveled from one place to the next. Each eluvian is a single path to a specific location. Some require a key, a magic phrase or an enchanted object to enter.”

“This place goes everywhere." Cole says. "Even places that aren’t anymore.”

“Most of the eluvians were intact, last I was here. So many of these are dark, inactive. So many damaged. Someone went through a lot of trouble to destroy all these eluvians. Has to be a reason.”

Cassandra points to the ground. “The blood trail leads to that inactive eluvian.”

"Our Qunari tried but couldn’t get into that eluvian. When he failed he tried the mirror to the Winter Palace. Look further up these stone stairs. There’s more blood. That’s where he came from. Let’s go.” Evelyn says.

The blood trail stops at an active eluvian under a rock ledge. Without hesitation they enter the mirror. Evelyn and her companions emerge inside a narrow hall. The area is marked by elven totems and a drawing of a golden halla.

Evelyn points to the elven artifacts. “We’ve traveled to an older elven structure. Just guessing. Mordine would know. Maybe I can bring him here later.”

“Boss, the blood trail. Leads upstairs.” The Iron Bull points out the blood that runs the entire length of the stairs.

Mid way up the stairs they find another dead Qunari.

“Just like our dead Quanri in the Winter Palace. From the way he's dressed, probably from the same group.” Cassandra suggests.

“Two dead Qunari. One died here. The second, while critically injured, made it to the Winter Palace.” Evelyn sums up the situation.

They continue up the stairs until they emerge on top of a sentry tower in a mountain range.

“We’re not in Orlais anymore." The Iron Bull points out. "This is not the Vinmark or Frostbacks mountains.”

“It's a higher elevation than the Winter Palace.” Cassandra observes. “The eluvian took us to a mountain range outside Halamshiral. This does appear to be a sentry tower.”

“The towers protect the fortress.” Cole points to the lake.

Cole is correct. Three sentry towers perch around a mountain vista overlooking a valley with a large lake. In the middle of the lake is an island fortress accessible only by a bridge. They move down outside stairs and spot another active eluvian. The mirror is surrounded by statues. At least they look like statues.

The Iron Bull's appalled at the sight. “These Qunari were turned into stone with magic. This whole area is covered with smoldering scorch marks. I can still feel the heat crackling. This was done by a very powerful mage.”

“And recently.” Cassandra points out. “Happened less than an hour ago.”

Evelyn shakes her head. “We started with one dead Qunari in the Winter Palace, then another on the stairs and now a bunch of Qunari warriors turned to stone. Hmm. Let’s go through.”

The eluvian exits on an incomplete bridge leading to the lake fortress. Fresh blood drops confirm they are heading in the right direction. Across the bridge is a group of Qunari warriors fought someone…or something.

“We got to raise this bridge.” Evelyn says. “This pedestal appears to be the bridge control but its statue is broken. We’ll need a matching statue to summon the bridge. Unless everyone wants to swim? Nobody? Okay, then let’s try the eluvian to our left. Hopefully it'll take us to a key storage area.”

THE SMOKING TOWER

The eluvian brings them to the second tower overlooking the lake. Evelyn dubs it the Smoking Tower as everything seems to be on fire. Was this caused by magic from the same powerful mage? Moving forward her team is stopped by a number of armed ethereal elves ready to attack. They are surrounded by a lot of dead Qunari.

“Guardians. Elven spirits bound to this place, feels very old.” Cole says then, after a moment of silence he says, “The guardian spirits stayed. Not bound. Because he asked. He knows how to speak to spirits so they listen."

The largest spirit spoke insistently to Evelyn in the elven language.

“I think they'll attack if we don't have permission to be here.” Cassandra worries.

“No idea what they’re saying but the Well of Sorrows knows the correct phrase to let us pass. The phrase is from a secret ritual greeting for those Fen’Harel trusted.” Evelyn responds. “Ar-melana dirthaveren, Revas vir-anaris.”

“You don’t speak elven.” Cassandra remarks

“I don’t. Sure I lost points for bad dialect. Whatever I said is working. They're letting us pass. If the Well of Sorrows knew Fen'Harel's trusted greeting does this mean Mythal and Fen'Harel were friends?” Evelyn wonders.

“Where do we go from here?” Cassandra asks.

“We find an entrance.” Evelyn points forward.

They found no entrance but found a conspicuous glowing wall mosaic. It's a mosaic of the Dread Wolf in perfect condition. When Evelyn approaches her Anchor activates and connects to the mosaic.

Powerful magic overwhelms Evelyn with images of elven slaves fleeing to this place in ancient times, greeted by others who tended to their wounds. Suddenly she experiences words not heard but felt: ‘Fen’Harel bids you welcome. Rest, knowing the Dread Wolf guards you, and his people guard this valley. In this place you are free. In trusting us you will never be bound again.’

Cassandra shakes Evelyn. “Inquisitor, what happened? The light from the mosaic almost engulfed you. You were in a trance."

“The Anchor stung me when it connected to the light. Hurt. I got a vision of the past. This whole valley is a refuge created by the Dread Wolf for elven slaves, ancient elven slaves.

“Cowering, cringing, blinking in the night and then cool hands, kind voices: Sleep now. You’re safe.” Cole says.

“Odd. In Dalish legends, Fen’Harel is the god of misfortune.” The Iron Bull adds.

The mosaic dissolves revealing another active Eluvian.

“Now let’s see where it leads.” She says.

SILENT TOWER

They exit on the third sentry tower marked by failing rails, broken stairs, and ruined walls. As they made their way around the tower and up the stairs they find more dead Qunari with surprised and frighten looks. Recently killed, the blood isn't even dry.

“I don’t like it here.” Cole says nervously.

They pass walls with more Elven drawings, then another glowing mosaic. Evelyn raises her Anchor which connects to the light. She bathed in powerful magic that conveys a pang of hope. Images flash before her: A man in wolf skin standing with a group of freed slaves, clasping one’s arm in friendship. Once again, words and feelings conveyed to Evelyn: ‘Fen’Harel has been falsely named a god, but is as mortal as any of you. He takes no divine mantel, and asks that none be bestowed upon his. He leads only those who would help willingly. Let none be beholden but by choice.’

Evelyn explains what she's learned. “This is Fen’Harel helping former slaves as a mortal not a god.”

“Kind of curious that he had to specify he wasn’t a god." Comments the Iron Bull. "Fen’Harel sounds like quite the rebel. The old elven gods must have simply loved that.”

“Worship makes you more. He just wanted to help.” Cole says.

The mosaic dissolves and inside they find a dark stairwell leading downward. The passage dark with little light is filled with cobwebs and drawings with gloomy overtones.

“I still don’t like it here.” Cole repeats.

At the bottom they find another glowing mosaic. Connecting to another mosaic reveals more words and more images to Evelyn.

She experiences another wash of powerful magic carrying a sensation of bitter fury. Images flash of elven mages with tens of thousands enslaved elves. The eleven arrogantly proclaiming godhood. She feels words: ‘The gods, our Evanuris, claim divinity yet they are naught but mortals powerful in magic who can die as you can. In this place, we teach those who join us to unravel their lies.’

“They're being re-educated.” Evelyn says.

The mosaic dissolves opening to a room whose only light was an inverted magical golden elven tree sculpture. Around it are multiple small statues on stands. When Evelyn steps near the tree the Anchor reacts violently overwhelming her for several seconds.

“The old magic seeks the Anchor. Changing it. It glows in bright light. Moments you are invulnerable but it burns inside.” Cole says.

“I vouch for the ouch. Like my hands in a hot oven. Yep, hurts." Evelyn clenches her hand. "Every time something in here triggers the Anchor feels more painful.”

Cole is right. Something about being around these ancient Elven ruins effected the Anchor, both good and bad. It's magic is changing, stronger. Feels like the Anchor's power moves through her body.

“Are you okay?” Asks Cassandra.

"I'm not sure. Thank the Maker it stopped. Grab the wolf statue that matches the broken one on the bridge. Let's back track to the bridge.”

“Gladly. This place gives me the creeps.” Cassandra comments.

Returning to the bridge, Evelyn sets the statue on the pedestal. The missing bridge section emerges from the water. They head for the fortress only to see Qunari exit the fortress and attack them. The sheer power of the Qunari overwhelms them. Evelyn never confronted Qunari in battle. She doesn't know Qunari weaknesses. Better learn fast.

As the Qunari quickly take advantage of the smaller group the Iron Bull shouts strategies to changed the tide of the fight. “Let Cassandra tank the biggest. Cole back her up in stealth. I got the support warriors. Boss, hit them with all the lightening spells you got.”

With those few tips they gain advantage over the Qunari. Two more waves of warriors emerge but the Iron Bull’s combat tips turn the battle to them.

“Why did the Qunari attack us on sight? We forget to send someone a Name Day gift?" Evelyn asks.

“Qunari only attack on orders.” Cassandra answers.

“These warriors have to be outcast or Tal-Vashoth. Possible they're a rogue group who think they are following the Qun.” Suggests The Iron Bull.

SANCTUARY

After dispatching more Qunari inside Evelyn and her group can look around inside.

“I like the quiet. This was a good place for spirits.” Says Cole.

“The front area is filled with beds for maybe a hundred freed slaves. Bedding, tables, camp fires, cooking utensils, books. All covered in cobwebs, except the area the Qunari took over.” Observes The Iron Bull. “Interesting the Qunari fortified their area. They put up wooden spikes and barriers against something threatening them.”

“Possibly that powerful mage or those ancient elven guards. Or both.” Says Cassandra.

“Keep looking. There's a corpse down the North shore I need to check out." During the fight Evelyn saw the Qunari corpse surrounded by papers. She found an interesting charred note clutched in his hand Qunari. As soon as she read it she decided it was worth the trouble. She returns to her group.

“Check out this this scrap of paper I found. Remember the the huge explosion on one of the towers. The Qunari was a witness. I’ll read the part I recovered.”

…struck the tower, a great sizzling bolt out of a blue sky. Afterwards, spirits emerged from a statue of a wolf as if the lightening woke them and they appeared to be looking for someone. The only word I understood was 'Fen’Harel.' They did not see me, but beware, for they attack any guards who…

“This Fen’Harel's a fairy tale but everything we've seen suggests he is real," concludes Cassandra. "Either there is a Fen’Harel or an impersonator wears his mantle.” Cassandra says.

“Wonder how the mural in the back supports that, Boss.” The Iron Bull points to the far end of the sanctuary.

Under a dome covered rotunda stands a large statue of the Dread Wolf. A mural on the wall depicts the dread wolf magically removing vallaslin from elves.

“Never seen anything like this before. Fen’Harel removing vallaslin. Solas said vallaslins are slave marks. Odd. The Well of Sorrows been bugging me about Fen’Harel for a month now. Here we stand in the middle of a Fen’Harel project.”

“Look, it's a riddle" Cassanadra says. "It says ‘The wolf gazes on one light. It illuminates the way forward.’

"And I am the master of riddles." Evelyn steps closer. "Okay. Notice the statue is looking at one of those light braziers. There we have veilfire. Oh, I got this.” Evelyn lights the brazier. A button activates on the statue. “Ta-dah! Press the button, Cassandra.”

A hidden stairwell is revealed. They walked down the hidden stairs to another glowing mosaic.

“Anyone notice the Anchor won’t extinguish? These mosaics make it worse. I’m afraid to touch another one. Not good. Well, here I go.”

As soon as Evelyn interacts with the mosaic a wash of magic conveys a sensation of determination. Images of former slaves in rank with Fen’Harel, armed and strong. Their skin is clear, their tattoos, the elven vallaslin gone. She feels rather than heard words: ‘The brand of the Evanuris can be lifted from you, that all may know you oppose their cruelties. None here are slaves. All are under our protection. All may choose to fight.’

The mosaic disappears and opens a new passage.

“A hidden armory.” The Iron Bull says. “These freed slaves fought back against the Evanuris.”

“Let’s continue down, team.”

At the bottom they spot a group of Qunari relaxing in an area by another Eluvian.

“What’s the chance this group isn’t hostile?” Evelyn asks quietly.

“Zero.” The Iron Bull says.

“Great. Maybe we should turn around, send flowers. Do Qunari like flowers? Probably not. Any other tips?” Evelyn asks.

“What I said before seems to get the job done. Maybe watch out for the stealth assassins, never underestimate Spear Warriors. Keep moving. Harder to skewer you.”

“Too bad they don't like flowers. Everyone likes flowers.” Evelyn tries to cheer herself up.

For Evelyn, it's a tough in the tight quarters. Hard to know if she's casting storm energy at a Qunari or a shadowy chair. Out of the group of twelve warriors, one was particularly difficult. Shock Warriors are fast and hard to avoid. Which she didn't and took a huge hit right into the wall. Everyone else survives with minor injuries.

“Hey, look, we survived, all limbs intact. And new bruise.” Evelyn says. “Let's look around.”

Cassandra finds a note in a side room. “Says two hours ago an unknown intruder, a masked and cloaked mage, penetrated their defenses. The mage summoned spirits to attacked them. They claim the intruder was familiar with area. The note is wet with blood.”

“Were dealing with two parties: the Qunari and a mystery agent determined to stop them. What else?” Evelyn asks.

“You’re not going to like this, Boss. Found this letter on a dead warriors. It's written in both Qunlat and the common tongue which is very unusual. It reads, ‘I have read your reports. Station your people in the abandoned elven towers by the lake. It is a short distance from the mirror that connects to Halamshiral. We will need the space to lodge our people after infiltration is complete.’ Attached is a map of the Crossroads. At the bottom it marks the eluvian here and the eluvian in the Crossroads that leads to the Winter Palace.”

“The Qunari plot to infiltrate Halamshiral? They act like they’re at war.” Cassandra says.

“These notes are written in the common language and Qunlat. It's not common practice. Note that.” Said the Iron Bull.

“So the Qunari attack the Inquisition on sight. They only attack if they have orders. Does this mean the entire Qunari nation wants the Inquisition dead?” Evelyn waves her head back and forth in a ‘no way is this happening to me again’ kind of way. "Let's send a cake. Everyone likes cake."

Evening

Evelyn and her team returns to the Winter Palace early in the evening. With only thirty minutes before the Exalted Council dinner Evelyn calls everyone to her room to debrief.

She updates them about the Qunari as she changes clothes behind a screen.

“One dead Qunari is bad enough. Now there are more and they are hostile." Cullen says concerned. "The eulvians put us at risk so I've doubled the guards on the mirror.

"Hostile Qunari in the Crossroads with access to the Winter Palace.” Leliana frowns.

“The Exalted Council is at a delicate stage. We can’t let the Qunari disrupt the council.” Josephine emphasizes.

“I’m sure you can attend to the council while we handle the real threat.” Cullen comments

“Not when the Inquisitor insults everybody by walking out in the middle of the talks!” Josephine yells.

“I’m sorry Josephine. The Qunari situation is important too.” Evelyn apologizes.

“What purpose do the Qunari have in the Crossroads and why use eluvians?” Leliana asks.

From behind a dressing screen, Evelyn answers. "Don't know. No telling what other eluvians they're using and where they go. And there is this unknown agent in the crossroads with access and knowledge of the eluvians. Whoever they are they are hostile to the Qunari. Ouch! Oh, sod it all!”

Disregarding the inquisitor’s privacy, Leliana and Cullen hasten to her behind the screen.

Evelyn is looking at a dark purple bruise that runs from her left hip to her rib cage.

“Inquisitor, what happen here?” Leliana asks.

“Slammed by a Qunari Shock Trooper: Big thing. Could use a healer. Ellendra is here, can we send for her?”

Josephine opens the door and askes one of the guards to fetch Ellendra.

“Didn’t you notice this? It must hurt.” Cullen asks concerned.

“It does. The Anchor hurts worse.”

“What’s happening with the Anchor?” Leliana asks.

“It’s been acting up in the Crossroads. Elven artifacts trigger it. It’s tolerable. I’m handling it.”

“Tolerable? But you didn’t notice this injury?” Cullen won't let her dismiss the injury.

“Don’t bother dressing. Ellendra will want to look at it.” Leliana says. “Put on your robe.”

“Does this mean I don’t have to wear a dress at dinner?”

“Don’t be foolish.” Josephine says, “Ellendra can fix that up in minutes. You’ll be fashionably late.”

Leliana notices Cullen’s personal items in the room. “Are you both staying in this room? Didn’t they give you separate rooms?”

“That’s personal and…” Cullen protests.

“I know this one, ‘my personal affairs are no one’s business.’ Ellendra may go to the wrong room.”

“This is my room.” Evelyn says, “Better view of the guillotine. They put up a fresh rope this morning.”

Cullen scowls at her. She rolls her eyes back at him. “Ellendra will find us.”

“In the meantime what else do we need to know?” Leliana asks.

“I’ll return tomorrow to see if we can find out more about what they’re doing and why they attacked. With any luck we’ll be back for the noon Exalted Council session.”

“Good.” Leliana replies.

“I’d like to retain Mordine’s services to look at the elven ruins. He’s an expert on historical elven art and artifacts.”

“The Qunari are more important than old elven relics.” Cullen points out.

“What kind of information do you want Mordine to get?” Leliana asks.

“Obviously the ruins are Fen'Harel's and one mural is unique to him. Some of the drawings are unique to Mythal...I think. Could point to a relationship between Fen'Harel and Mythal. I want Mordine to see them” Evelyn explains.

“Why is this important at all?” Cullen asks.

Ellendra, mage healer for the Inquisition, arrives. “Oh, that looks bad.”

Ellendra goes to work while the discussion continues.

“If it’s important to the Qunari it's important to us. Should be.” Evelyn says.

“He'll need an escort." Lediana says. "I would suggest sending someone who was in your group like the Iron Bull, someone who’s been there. Commander Rutherford can arrange a guard escort.”

“Thanks.” Evelyn says.

.

Evelyn snags a place at dinner next to Cullen by swapping seats with Cassandra. Cullen needs someone to run interference against the Rutherford Orlesian Fan Club. Several Rutherford fans have already sent marriage offers and suggestive gifts. Their own marriage continues to be a secret. Cullen prefers the secret and she has every reason to support him.

Cullen's company keeps her mind off the Anchor, her injury and the irritation of wearing a dress. As the third dinner course of eight arrives she notices he too is distracted.

“You do realize we’ve been married almost 18 hours and we haven’t….” Cullen bravely whispers to Evelyn.

“Haven’t what? Picked out china?”

“You know. Don’t embarrass me.” He says quietly.

“Embarrass you? You brought it up.”

“I was thinking…” Cullen tries to continue.

“We could play Wicked Grace tonight with Varric?” She suggests.

“You’re being impossible.”

“How is it I‘m being impossible? Didn’t I mention that tonight you were so in trouble? I'm a little impatient about...china patterns.” She quietly places her hand on his.

Cullen's face turns red. “Please don’t do anything...at the table.”

“Have I ever done anything to you at a table? You're perfectly safe around me in public. Later, when we are alone, I have plans for you.”

Cullen looks even more uncomfortable. She adores his modesty: It's a rare and admirable virtue.

She returns her hand to her lap and leans over slightly. “How about I say how absolutely happy you make me and I can’t think of anywhere more wonderful than in your arms. If everything goes just right tonight you could be holding a baby in your arms this time next year."

Embarrassment falls away. Cullen smiles delighted.

"Quick disclosure. I've never changed a nappy in my life so you get dirty nappy duty.” Cullen doesn't hear her. He's still smiling.

Chapter Text

The idiom “kicked in the gut” suggests an unexpected betrayal, being caught off guard or coming into knowledge. For Evelyn a kick in the gut is an epiphany.

When Evelyn and her team of Cassandra, Cole and Varric arrive in the Crossroads they find the Qunari busy, busy, yep, busy. The Inquisition team tries to catch up with this Qunari group until they disappear...briefly. Cole points to a conspicuous large egg device. Touching the egg magically opens a new path to previously unreachable eluvian. Evelyn and her team run to catch up with the Qunari.

“Well, shit.” Varric groans as he exits the eluvian. “The Deep Roads. Again.”

Varric is right, sort of. At first glance the underground area seems a normal Deep Roads dwarven thoroughfare marked by geometrical stone walkways, walls and ceilings. The team walks on a cloister path overlooking over a deep chasm into the earth. As expected, the cavern is lined with tall geometrical basalt columns common sights in the Deep Roads and along the Storm Coast.

“This reminds me of Heidrun Thaig." Cassandra muses, "The Legion of the Dead found an ancient prison they believed once held an Archdemon."

Evelyn looks over a rail into the cavern and suddenly freezes. “This is not like that. Something is not...”

Without warning, a Qunari Shock Trooper runs at Evelyn slamming her into the rock railing. She hits the stone with a grunt. Adrenalin surges putting her quickly on her feet. She hastily cast a wall of ice. The Shock Trooper pulls up his massive axe only to be frozen solid in the trap. Evelyn scampers from under the massive axe before he regains control.

Evelyn is really starting to dislike those Shock Troopers.

Two more Qunari appear. While Cassandra shield bashes the frozen Qunari. Varric and Cole dispatch the new fighters until all is safe. Cassandra finds Evelyn staring at chasm while nursing her bruised side. Cole joins her at the rail.

“Songs singing far away. It wants to wake up but can’t remember how.” Cole puts his hand on her shoulder. “No one should be here.”

“What are you two harping about?” Cassandra asks.

“Don’t you see it?” Evelyn points across the chasm to the volcanic columns.

"They made bodies from the earth." Cole mutters one of his strange nothingness that always mean something. "And the earth was afraid. It fought back. But they made it forget."

Cassandra and Varric finely see it.

“Mythal.” Evelyn says. “That is the largest statue of Mythal I’ve ever seen.”

“What is a statue of Mythal doing in the Deep Roads?” Varric asks.

“Statue of Mythal and eluvians and Qunari warriors." Evelyn emphasizes. "What are any of those doing in the Deep Roads? It's making my head hurt.”

"A good point, Inquisitor." Cassandra points out. "Are those lyrium veins around the chasm?"

“Something’s very wrong. It's vey dark.” Varric observes. “Where's the volcanic magma? It's the primary source of light in the Deep Roads. This area of the Deep Roads is wrong.”

“Something...feels like I'm being tapped on the shoulder, like hint, hint. Well, let's worry about the Qunari for now." Evelyn says. "As for the lack of light, the Anchor provides us light.”

“Inquisitor, look." Cassandra points to the area around the corner where the Qunari were working. "A recent cave in from the quakes perhaps? Looks like the Qunari are using gaatlok to clear away rubble from this door. ”

“Are the Qunari insane?" Varric exclaims. "Using gaatlok underground?”

Both Cassandra and Varric are right. The Qunari are ill-advisedly tearing down walls and tunneling under using gaatlok explosives. Are they looking for something? Several gaatlok barrels are pushed up against a blocked door. Evelyn peers over the rock rubble through a small opening.

“Another eluvian. They're using gaatlok to blast their way to it.” She shakes her head. “Two eluvians. Anyone else find this disturbing? We should check back here later. Passage may open with all the tremors.”

To traverse the Quanri altered the cavern they use hastily built scaffolds and wood planks. A maze of broken walkways, falling walls, and collapsed ceilings. They move deeper into the area until they find damaged structures, ruins and some solid ground. In the ruins they find statues.

Varric finds notes by the obviously elven statues. “Inquisitor, an elf who converted to the Qun wrote these notes. Not surprised. Lots of Kirkwall elves converted to the Qun. Point is the Qunari brought an elf here to evaluate these elven statues.

"The Qunari interested in Elven statues? That's...that's odd." Another tap on her shoulder, another weirdness for Evelyn to unravel.

"There are sketches of all the elven statues…that shouldn’t be in the Deep Roads…and notes.”

“Statues are all very old and strangely in good shape. Most depict Mythal, a few are Fen'Harel. Why does Fen’Harel have a spot of honor by Mythal's side. There are features in the area which should be dwarven but are not. This last note recalls an elven children’s song about Mythal and how it may relate to all this. Song says elves drove the dwarves underground. Something about Mythal giving dreams. Translation about Mythal taking the sun. Maybe Mythal taking the light? You're right, Inquisitor, the Qunari are deeply interested in the ancient elves.” Varric said.

“Hate to interrupt your scholarly musing but we found something else not supposed to be in the Deep Roads." Cassandra points to the next area.

There stands a human in the next room. As the group approaches, the man threatens them with a sword until he sees the glowing hand.

“Your hand… Are you the Inquisitor?" He drops his sword.

“Odd to find a human surrounded by Qunari. Who are you?” Evelyn asks.

“My name is Jerran, formally a Templar. I converted to the Qun during Kirkwall.”

“Also not surprised.” Varric adds.

“I don’t care if you serve Fen’Harel or not, you must stop Viddasala and her insane plan. There's not much time.”

“You think the Inquisition serves Fen’Harel?” Finely, someone to ask whose not attaching us, thinks Evelyn.

“The Viddasala says you do so the Qunari down here believe it.”

“We don’t serve Fen’Harel.” She says. “Why are elven mirrors in the deep roads?”

“The mirrors, eluvians? I don’t know. Seems ancient elves were mining down here. Looking for lyrium? This place is a lyrium spring. The more we mine the more lyrium there is. That pleases the Viddasala."

“Viddasala?" Cassandra stands astounded. "One of the three leaders of Ben-Hassrath? Her job is to find, study and stop magic.”

“Not any more. It’s the complete opposite. The Viddasala is mining lyrium for Saarebas as part of a plan called Dragon’s Breath.”

“The Viddasala is giving lyrium to Saarebas?” Cassandra points out what is clearly insane and foolish.

“What is the Viddasala planning?” Evelyn asks.

“The plan is to save the South. That can only mean one thing: an invasion. You must put an end to this." He practically begs. "If you go to Central Supply you’ll find gaatlok primers. Detonate gaatlok around the mining processing area and the mine will go up in flames. That will end the lyrium mining and maybe stop the Dragon’s Breath plan.”

“And the Viddasala?” Evelyn asks.

“Find the Viddasala and end this war before it begins".

“What about you?”

“I’ve had enough of the Qunari.”

“Better head out. Once I set off the gaatlok you won’t have much time.”

“Thank you inquisitor.”

They leave searching for lower walkways by cutting back and forth through blasted basalt columns. The cavern is barely holding together.

The Inquisition finds hostile Qunari at the central platform of the mining and processing center. Stealth assassins taunt from the shadows, ‘Are you afraid of the dark, Inquisitor?’ ‘Do you see me Bas? I see you!’

Evelyn shoots lightening across the shadowy area paralyzing the Qunari assassins who get finished off by Cole’s deadly double daggers.

“You don’t frighten me!” Cole lands his killing slice.

The Mining and Processing Center, the whole operation is larger than Evelyn imagined. Four large platforms store barrels and barrels of gaatlok.

“Bull said that the Qunari wouldn’t invade, but look at all this gaatlok.” Evelyn says. "Looks like war preparations to me."

The group moves to the next mining and processing center where a second group of Qunari are ready to fight.

As soon as the Qunari are finished Cole points across a bridge. There on the other end of the stone bridge is the silhouette of a very, very large Qunari.

“Do you remember Jerran talking about Sarabbas? I think we are looking at one.” Cassandra warns.

“Why do you say that?” Evelyn asks.

“Because he stands in a battle ready position and carries no weapon.”

“Dragon balls. If we're smart we'd worry."

Battling the Sarabass is chaos. The Sarabass moves unlike any mage in Thedas, with the exception of Corypheus. Both quickly blink-steps to new areas. Sarabass has a pounding magic that crushes down large areas. Evelyn plans to use fade step to quickly avoid incoming slams. Almost works. He is too fast.

It takes Bee bombs to slow down the Sarabass who is soundly humiliating Evelyn and Cassandra. Varric and Cole take to heart the Iron Bull's warnings that spear warriors cause a lot of damage. Never underestimate Qunari spears.

“Did you notice the change in here?” Evelyn asks as the battle is won.

“What change? Varric asks.

“The architecture. Just look around. The columns. The décor on the walls. The ribbed vault ceiling. It’s not dwarven. It's elven. This area is elven!” She feels a silent tap on the shoulder.

“That's nonsense. Elves digging underground? Certainly they don’t built underground.” Varric complains she'd even suggest such a thing.

"I'll bet you Bianca.”

“Sacrilege!” Varric protests.

“Fine. But I’m right. That ceiling isn't dwarven.” Evelyn points up.

Cole interrupts, “The songs are old here. Sleeping, sadness, already forgotten. I can’t help this hurt.”

“Sleeping?” Evelyn asks.

“Don’t bother. Solas is the only one who could interpret Cole.” Varric points out.

Everyone searches the area for intelligence. Cassandra finds a note that mentions Dragon’s Breath and Fen’Harel. Evelyn checks the opposite side for the detonators. She glances over the railings and drops the detonators to the ground.

“Inquisitor! Be careful with those." Cassandra warns. Evelyn isn't playing attention to her. "Inquisitor?”

“Cole. Look here.” Evelyn calls him over. She points to another large space below them.

Cole looks over the railing. “They’re all singing. Coffers, Coffins, corpses that aren’t dead. A song crying out in the dark.”

Evelyn’s hair stands on end. That tap on the shoulder again. Everything Cole's said since they arrived. It's a kick in the gut.

Cassandra and Varric look over the balcony.

Coffins, elegantly decorated, made of heavy stone, hundreds all lined up on both sides of a narrow vein of pure blue lyrium. The narrow vein joins up to a large circle of blue lyrium. n the darkness there are even more coffins.

“Andraste! Is that liquid lyrium?” Cassandra asks.

“Lyrium saturated stone?” Varric should be a lyrium expert but even he is confounded.

Evelyn looks again around the room they are standing. Things are clearer as information bubbles up. “This is a ritual room. Those coffins…Cole said it several times already. Ancient elves in uthenera, the long sleep. We’re seeing something we shouldn’t see. We shouldn't be here.”

"He broke the dreams to stop the old dreams from waking. The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap." Cole says.

"What did you say, Cole?" What Cole says makes goosebumps appear on Evelyn's arms.

Cassandra interrupts her, “The coffins. Why do you think those coffins contain sleeping ancient elves? This is underground. Could be dwarves.” Cassandra said.

"Those are not dwarves. Dwarves don't bury their dead in coffins. Dwarves entomb their dead to return to the stone. Nobles and Paragons are entombed in elaborate crypts but not like this." Varric says as an expert.

"I've seen coffins just like these. Solasan in the Forbidden Oasis had nearly identical tombs. All sealed, undisturbed. All of them. Those are elven tombs down there." Evelyn sighs. She wants to understand.

“So what are we going to do?” Cassandra asks.

“Collapse those platforms and end the Qunari lyrium mining.” Evelyn says regretfully.

“What about these coffins?”

Evelyn thinks a moment. This place is a piece of a larger puzzle. One she isn't supposed to know...yet. “Now The Well of Sorrows has something to share. We shouldn't be here. The Well overwhelms me with feelings of 'get the hell out of here' and it's not the Qunari that bothers them.”

She brings herself mentally back to the group. “We leave these sleepers to their fate. I’d like to bring Mordine here. Provided the whole place doesn't collapse when we set off the gaatlok. I wonder if the Qunari even know where they were... Why didn’t they investigate the coffins?”

“Fear.” Varric says.

“We're fighting Qunair yet this ancient elven matter is bigger and more important than we suspect and I can do nothing. Let’s get back and report to the others.” Evelyn says but a feeling haunted her. This place is secret. This place is very important. But in what context? The Well of Sorrows turns silent.

Collapsing the platforms causes the whole area to collapse and flood. Is the flooding a fail-safe? Mordine may never get a chance to see this. Maker. She has no choice but turn to more urgent matters.

“So, who gets to tell Josephine and Cullen we’re at war with the Qunari? Anyone? They’re going to kill me.”

The Inquisitor’s team returns mid-day. The duty guard hands Evelyn a note. Message is simple: Noon Exalted Council session cancelled. Please check in. Outside the tavern Evelyn sees a very excited Mordine

.

“Inquisitor! Got message. Elven ruins! Must see!” Mordine holds up his gear to support his readiness.

“Oh, Mordine. I have to check in first.” The wiry man bursts with enthusiasm. She sighs in resignation. She is taking Mordine to the ruins and the Deep Roads. Just the two of them. Because she needs to. To understand. Now. Leliana, Josephine and Cullen are going to kill her. “Come on. It may be dangerous so if there’s trouble I want you to…”

Mordine pulls two assassin daggers from the back of his belt. “Help if I can. Run if I must.”

Evelyn calls Cassandra over. “I know I’m asking much but will you give the Inquisition Council an update. I'm taking our Elven Historian to the Crossroads. Tell them I’ll be back in a couple of hours?”

“They aren’t going to like this.”

“I know. Sometimes a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

“You’re not a girl.”

Evelyn grunts in reply. She summons Mordine to follow her into the eluvian.

“Crossroads.” Mordine says as they enter the area of many eluvians.

How do you know about the Crossroads?”

"Empress Celene was here. Civil War.”

“That's right. Okay. First stop. Elven Ruins.” She looks back at Mordine. “Talk like you.”

The man smiles. “No words wasted.”

Evelyn guides Mordine through the eluvians stopping briefly at each of the three sentry towers. Mordine would occasionally jot a word or two about a picture or statue.

“Mordine, do you need more time?”

“No need.” He points to his head. “All here. Everything. A second in the eye. Forever in mind.”

“Really? Fascinating. Seems I attract unique people.”

They arrive at the island sanctuary. “The mural I mentioned is in the back.”

Mordine hurries back until he catches a glimpse of the Dread Wolf mural. He isn't even off the stairs before he began his analysis.

“Not fresco.” He observes. “Different paints. Dread wolf? Hmm. Figure putting vallaslin on elf.”

“Wait, what?” She stops him. “No, he’s removing the vallaslin from slaves.”

“Is he? Hand offers. Hand out, palm up. Offering. Gesture of giving. Look at Dread Wolf. Skin healthy, peachy. Look at others. Why are the two without markings not happy? The others, standing in line. Waiting for turn. Stoic. Three with markings look odd. Don't look happy to me."

Mordine moves back to the central figure. "Something wrong. Dread Wolf odd. Staff concealed. Hand on staff wrong. There is a second figure behind robes. Who is second figure? Mural is odd. Different paints. Touched up? Damaged. Repainted?" He turns to her. “Allegory. Mural is story. But paint changed story. Not done by original creator."

He looks again at Evelyn. “Remember? A point of view. Here conflicting views. Dread Wolf giving or removing vallaslin? Picture doesn’t add up. Humm. Okay. Next?”

“We’re going to the Deep Roads.”

They travel through eluvians to the Deep Roads. The situation hasn’t improved. Is the flooding intentionally keeping people out. So why were the Qunari allowed?

Evelyn points to the large Mythal statue half covered in water.

“Mythal in Deep Roads! Surprise.” The sight genuinely astonishes him. “Historical hints? Maybe. Underground references to Evanuris. Some. References to dwarves and titans. No hints of this."

She takes him around the corner but water tops the walkway. She takes him to the blocked opening.

"See the eluvian in the next room? Want to get there but the rubble keeps us out.”

“Rocks loosen by quakes.” Suggests Mordine.

The rocks did shift. Evelyn takes a chance that releasing the anchor will clear the rubble. It works. The room is small with only the eluvian inside. They brave forward.

The first thing they notice stepping out of the eluvian is the scent of clean sweet air. They are in a sun filled elven ruin. Mordine dashes past her.

“Oh, yes! Look. Like Skyhold. Pristine. Preserved in time. Fresco with a story. Allegory. Both. Point of view. Well done.”

Mordine points to the central figure within the large half circle. “Titan! Yes! Dying titan. Body separated. Sundered across body. Yes. Head removed. Single eye. Interesting. Death of a titan. Story, viewpoint or allegory? Hmm.

“See golden circle on chest. Gold is magic. Gold sphere emits powerful magic. Sphere core of titan? What is core of being? The heart? Core of titan? Sphere sits where heart sits. Is sphere symbol of heart? Heart of a titan? Heart is core of being. Heart beats with life. Life force of titan compressed into sphere? Golden sphere with star. Life force of titan. Mural suggests.

“Look at two elves, flanking figures.” Mordine ponders the two sides. "The left panel. The Beyond? Elven Beyond. The Void, the Fade, the Golden City. Waters of the Fade. Maybe? Many places past the veil.

“Right side. Our living world? Thedas, ocean, hills, sky. Everywhere. Is grey earth? Mountains? Look. Rolled in earth. Deep Roads? City? Earth protecting or holding?

Two elves. Same elf: Same robe, same face, same hands. Gold aura. Gold shadow. Elf in living world. Elf holds green orb with star. Other elf in Beyond. Hand in gold orb. Left hand. Like your hand. Two orbs. Or same orb?”

Mordine turns to look at Evelyn. “Earth orb is contained. Other is… Power unlocked? Is titan power? Is titan source of Anchor’s power? Seen anything like this?”

“Solas’ mural." Evelyn said. "Corypheus holds orb. Two hands in orb. There is something else I read and felt in the Arbor Wilds: 'In this place we prepare to hunt the pillars of the earth. Their workers scurry, witless, soulless. This death will be a mercy. We will make the earth blossom with their passing.' I saw an an image of two overlapping spheres; and unknown flower blooming in their center."

Mordine nods his head then turns quiet for two or three minutes. “Ancient elven art rarely survives. Elven history bits and pieces. Nursery rhymes. Songs. Elven buildings historical source. Gets built over. Reoccupied. I’m just another song. Another nursery rhyme. Piece things together. Try to help.”

He stands quiet for a moment then points to the rune on the mural. “Read?”

Evelyn touches veilfire to the rune she is overcome with images, feelings and scents. In the light of the veilfire she watches the runes shift, coiling and uncoiling like snakes. She hears a thunderous voice shatter the stillness, shouting:

“Hail Mythal, Adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the people. Praise her name forever!”

The scent of blood fills her nose. A vivid image emerges of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire. The vision darkens. It feels as if an aeon passes. Then the runes crackle as if filled with an angry energy.

She sees a new vision of elves collapsing caves, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic. She feels a terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spell is cast.

A voice whispers. “What the Evanuris in their greed could unleash would end us all. Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger. They must rise before their false gods, destroy them all.” The vision darkens.

When the vision disappears Evelyn is kneeling by the mural. Mordine kneels quietly beside her.

“How long?” Evelyn asks as she sits up.

“Twenty-seven heart beats. Mine. You didn’t die. Thanks. Did you see?”

“Saw, smelt, felt, heard. The runes say the Evanuris, mostly Mythal, fought the Titans. They mined their bodies for lyrium. I saw growing vines from a sphere of fire. And something else. Then an uprising. Sealing the Deep Roads. "

“Interesting.”

“Cole told me the Anchor is a heartbeat, not mine. Beating in its last verse. He also said the Veil was trying to escape.”

“Anchor’s power from titan life force? Titan essence extract into orb. Maybe. The Anchor? Think about it. Consider. Could be completely wrong. Are you frightened?”

“Something keeps tapping on my shoulder. I get close to understanding but then it's a thread too far. So close. So far. It concerns me. Lot of other things concern me. Might just say I’m queen of concerns. All these images. All this information. One day it's all going to hit me, a kick in the guy. Everything will make sense. One day. Regretfully, we should leave. Do you have this memorized?”

Mordine put his writing items back in his pack. “Yes. Let’s go."

.

Evelyn and Mordine are gone just under two hours. Long enough to worry people.

“Listen.” She says in the Inquisition Council meeting, “That was my choice. Something I had to do. Something I’m glad I did.”

“We debriefed your team in your absence.” Cullen tells her.

“And?” Evelyn asks.

“No answer to why the Qunari are attacking us over this Fen’Harel.” Leliana says.

“No idea why they think the Inquisition serves him.” Josephine adds.

“We know Mythal exists." Evelyn points out. "Fen’Harel could be here in some form. Or someone using the name.”

“But how does it implicate us?” Josephine asks.

“What of this invasion? Is that what Dragon’s Breath is? An invasion?” Leliana asks. “Everything seems to be centered on this Dragon’s Breath plan.”

“Qunari agents moving through eluvians with plans to invade the South is bad enough already.” Cullen says.

“Let’s concentrate on Dragon’s Breath and the Qunari’s invasion plan.” Evelyn says.

“Glad we’re all in agreement.” Cullen scowls at Evelyn.

“Our only lead about the Dragon’s Breath is the Viddasala.”

Evelyn lookes across the table at Cullen, Leliana and Josephine. Should she should share what she and Mordine uncovered, what they saw? She's afraid they will discount its importance. At that moment they are focused on the Qunari and immediate events.

“Let’s see the Exalted Council try to disband the Inquisition after we save them from this dragon’s breath.” Cullen says.

The chamber door above pushes open and two men head down the stairs.

“Gentlemen?” Josephine turns to find Arl Teagan and the Cyril de Montfort arriving in haste.

“Please pardon the interruption, Lady Josephine, there’s been an incident with one of your soldiers. Apparently there’s been a scuffle between one of your soldiers and an Orlesian servant.”

“How dare you!” Arl Teagan roars, “It's bad enough hiding the Qunari corpse from the Exalted Council but now your soldiers are attacking servants. You have overstepped your bounds.”

“Arl Teagan, this is Orlais and not Ferelden. This is the Divine's Council, not yours. The servants are not your servants so who here is overstepping bounds? Have no fear as I shall personality look into the situation.” Evelyn can handle Lord De Montfort’s deceptive kindness but Ban Teagan’s bullying is getting at her.

“Thank you, Inquisitor. Orlais stands ready to assist the Inquisition, as always.”

“Secrets and lies. Do you understand why we fear your Inquisition?” Arl Teagan spits out directly at the Inquisitor. “You act as if you’re the solution to every problem. How long before you drag us into another war?”

The two gentlemen leave the room.

“I wonder if The Iron Bull’s stick therapy to reduce stress would work on Arl Teagan?” Evelyn says in a very serious tone "I volunteer to hit him into bliss." Josephine is the only one in the room not desperately trying to hold back nervous laughter.

.

“What’s going on over here?” Evelyn asks the Inquisition guard facing off with an Orlesian guard.

“The Orlesian tried to take one of our people, Inquisitor. We’ve secured the area.”

“This is the Winter Palace.” Argues the ranking Orlesian officer. “You simply cannot seize control when one of your guards attacks a servant.”

“I only asking what he was doing.” Claims one of Leliana's young female elf agents.

The elven servant sits on the bench as ordered. “And when I refused to answer your Inquisition dog attacked me.”

“How would you like us to handle this, Inquisitor?” The Inquisition guard asks.

Evelyn notices a barrel of gaatlok sitting by the servant.

“Where did that barrel come from?”

“I was ordered to bring wine for the guests.” The elven servant replies.

“You’re lying.” Leliana’s spy snaps.

“Please take the servant into custody.”

“On your order, Inquisitor.” The Inquisition guard salutes and takes control of the servant.

“Inquisitor? What gives you the authority?” The Orlesian guard demands.

“Our Ambassador will explain later. For now we’re taking the servant into custody for questioning.”

“Inquisitor.” The elf spy hands a parchment to her. “Found this note by the barrel. I can’t read the writing.”

As Evelyn reads the note she sees Leliana by the Smith making a discrete head motion to join her.

“Have you solved the incident with the guard?” Leliana asks.

“Kept it below an international incident, barely. May set off Civil War. The servant was moving a gaatlok barrel through the Winter Palace. Your spy intervened and found a note by the barrel but I can’t read it. It’s in Quanlat.

"Let me see. I picked up some of the language from the Iron Bull. The note says once the barrel is placed to report back to the Viddasala using the mirror near a bookcase.”

“Thank the Maker: A lead. I’m taking the Iron Bull with me. And Cassandra and Cole. I’ll leave right away.”

“While you investigate I will contact my foreign agents to see how wide spread this Dragon’s Breath is. The Commander is by the tavern. You should speak with him first.”

Evelyn turns to see Cullen waiting outside the tavern. She goes right to him.

“Got a lead. I’m headed out to the Crossroad.”

“I see.” He replies tersely.

“You’re upset.”

He gestures to follow as he heads away from the tavern. “You should let your Military Adviser know when you leave the area. In person. Not through Cassandra. Why didn’t you talk to any of us about this? Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“Cullen.”

“I'm your Military Adviser. I’m also your husband.”

“I know. I’ve seen things and I haven’t told the Inquisition Council. Things weighting on me. I didn’t trust that anyone would listen. I should insist but don’t. I should confide in you but I haven’t.”

“Like what?”

“Todays? Things hard to believe. Things that scares me.” She lifted up her hand. The Anchor shined as if she had just used it. “The Anchor’s source of power may be a titan. Being in the ruins is changing it. Hurting me. Like it's trying to take me over.”

Cullen furrows eyes at her.

“We know this came from an elven artifact. It caused an explosion that leveled the Temple of Ashes. It opened the fade twice. Closed the Breach twice. It's from somewhere powerful.”

Cullen still looks like it's a theory and not fact. Evelyn scrunches up her face.

“This is what I mean. Why share things when I get looks like I’m crazy. You don’t have to believe me. But I wish you would listen. I’m admitting for the first time that I am afraid of this.”

Cullen's hand goes to her shoulder. “I don’t know where it comes from or if what you said is true but I’ve always feared it. I can cut down a sword pointed at your heart but I can’t protect you from the Anchor.”

“Then understand that all this elven stuff may help me understand the Anchor and maybe find something to keep it under control.”

“Alright.” Cullen said gently.

“Thank you. Big step, confiding something. In our husband wife thingy. There is something else. May sound silly but I think way too much…about being…intimate with you. Way too much.”

Cullen blushed lightly and smiled. “So often you wonder if you’re neglecting your duties.”

“So I’m not a deviant fiend? Thank the Maker. I love you."

"So much the heart soars.”

"Very cheesy, husband."

"I can stop."

"Don't you dare. I'll take all the cheesy you dish out.

They are enjoying their moment until Cullen notices a soldier approaching their location. “I think we have company.”

A guard stops ten feet from their position. “Inquisitor, the Divine would like a word.”

Evelyn sighs then smiles at Cullen.

The impulse to hug her is strong. Share a kiss affirming this precious bond. Decorum prohibits so he resigns the thought. He nods his head to say okay.

"We must attend to consummating our marriage." She says only to receive a embarrassed look from Cullen.

"You fell asleep." He whispers.

"I beg to differ. You fell asleep."

"Okay, we both fell asleep. It'll be the same tonight. I'm exhausted. We’ll talk later, Commander.” Evelyn turns to the guard. “Lead on, guard of the Divine.”

The guard brings Evelyn to the empty Exalted Chambers.

Divine Victoria stands in the center of the room. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Your Perfection, I’m sorry I have no more information on the Qunari yet. When we get more information we’ll let you know.”

“That’s not why I called you.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“When the Exalted Council concludes you'll be taken to the Circle.”

Evelyn's heart drops and blood drains from her head making her light headed. “Why are you telling me this? Are you hoping I’ll run? Send your templars to chase a fleeing apostate?”

“I’m giving you another chance to do the right thing.” The Divine says.

“I'm going to hear what my life is worth. What I can trade for my freedom.” Evelyn failed, no, ignored what she knew would happen the day the Divine joined the Inquisition. What she feared is happening.

“Put the Inquisition under the Chantry. The mages or the templars will follow. They’ll see what is in their best interest.”

“My freedom for the Inquisition. If I say no?”

The Divine’s confidence says she is about to show the winning card. “You may not have a choice. We know the Well of Sorrows has influence over you. How many times has it interfered, made you do something not of your free will? You are an abomination, my dear. A danger.”

“So it’s to the Circle one way or another. The bargain is for my life. You’ll have the Inquisition or I’ll live as a tranquil. And the Well of Sorrow? Does the Well of Sorrows interest you? Perhaps a tranquil will share its knowledge? So many possibilities that I can’t imagine. What the next step?”

“As soon as the Exalted Council is done turn yourself in. Simple as that.”

“Why aren't you worried about the Qunari? Oh, that's right, you don’t have to worry. Orlais is worried and they’ll act. During a time of crisis and danger the Faithful flock to the Chantry. With the Inquisition under your control you can order an Exalted March.” Evelyn shakes her head at the Divine’s arrogance.

“Alarming, isn't it, I see your scheming while everyone else thinks the Divine works for the good of the people? I don’t give a druffalo dropping what you plan except when you use me. You’ve manipulated me as a pawn this whole time.” Evelyn left without another word.

She is not like the Divine. She will do the right thing. The Viddasala needs to be stop and the Inquisition is best suited to stop her. She heads back to the Crossroads.

Chapter Text

The Iron Bull isn't happy. “Boss, I really don’t like talking with demons.”

Evelyn stands in awe of what was once the most spectacular library in history but now stood…well floats…torn apart by a great catastrophe. Large chunks of the library broken apart, scattered, and suspended in the air.

“First, that's a spirit, a helpful spirit, not a demon," Evelyn says, "The Archivist told us where the Qunari are camped and she explained that this library, the Vid Dirthara, crumbled into pieces when it was cut off from magic. Come on, in the past four years this may be strange but still within the parameters of normal for us.”

The Iron Bull grumbles. “Next time we get the gang together, let’s do a dragon. Dragons are fun.”

“The Spirit said the eluvian at the end of that walkway will take us directly to the Viddasala. She and her Qunari are here studying the Veil so...” Evelyn suddenly stopped as most of the walkway was missing. “What in the Fade is this?”

“Figures, Boss. Nothing is easy or straight forward. If you haven’t noticed, ‘just ahead’ is an upside down island where the Qunari are, camped on the upside down island. Have I mentioned I hate magic?”

“Cole is happy.” Cassandra adds just a bit exasperated.

“The Veil isn't real! It’s false, fake, fabricated to forbid. Isn't it wonderful?” Cole shares excited, "I'm supposed to be here!"

"Wonderful isn't the word I have for any of this.” Comments the Iron Bull. “No wonder my people are shitting themselves about this place.”

“What could cause such destruction like this?” Cassandra asks.

“We're searching for a dragon egg to help the path remember.” Cole reminds them.

Evelyn grumbles. “Why is everything a puzzle?" Grumbles Evelyn, " Just put out signs! 'This way to the insane Qunari.' Geez.”

Following Cole’s lead they find an eluvian that transports them to another area of the library. In a Courtyard two more eluvians and a spherical metallic trees containing raw magic mark the entrance. When Evelyn approaches the tree her Anchor connects to the magic causing it to discharged. Evelyn shrieks.

“What happened, Inquisitor?” Cassandra asks concerned.

Evelyn hisses as she clutches the Anchor which continues to glow. “Damn tree discharged the Anchor. It’s fine. Let’s find that dragon egg. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, into which eluvian shall we go. This one it is.”

"Trying to be funny, Boss?

"Shooting for obnoxious. Obnoxious and pain: good combination."

The first eluvian takes them to another broken library segment. Near the mirror they found another Qunari body with a face frozen in terror. Past the body, the spirit Archivist on duty reveals more secrets:

“Listen to the last words of those who lived past the fall. How could the Dread Wolf cast a Veil between the world that wakes and the world that dreams? The Evanuris will save us. When did you last hear from the gods? When the Veil came down they went silent. What is this Veil? What has Fen’Harel done?”

“Did the spirit say Fen’Harel created the Veil? So the world that wakes is Thedas? The world that dreams means the Fade? So the Veil holds back the Fade and it's magic?” Cassandra speculates.

“It means without the Veil we’d be knee deep in demons.” Adds The Iron Bull.

“The ancient elven empire collapsed because of the Veil not because of humans?” Evelyn guesses.

“This rewrites history as we know it.” Cassandra says.

“It’s really hard to concentrate on the Qunari crisis when we get hit with huge revelations like this. I swear, I should hire Mordine join our little brigade here. This is just more stuff he needs to know.” Evelyn says.

Cassandra finds the egg object they're seeking. “Our magical dragon egg. Trigger it and then let’s get back to the eluvian.

Retracing their steps they expect to find the Archivist but not a Quanri welcome party.

“Great. The Qunari know we’re here.” Evelyn says.

“Say, Boss, which of the Ben-Hassrath are your favorite?” Says The Iron Bull as he slams down one of the spearmen.

“Really, we’re talking about this now?” Evelyn cast a barrier across her team.

“Best time.”

Evelyn shot a static energy across two stealth assassins forcing them out of hiding. Cole ends their misery.

“The assassins." She tells The Iron Bull. "They leave a trail of fuzzy air which makes them not-so-stealthy.”

“See, Boss. Talking makes the battle go faster.” The Iron Bull does a fast whirl and takes out another assassin.

“You don’t talk during dragon fights?” She dodges a Ben-Hasssrath trying to flank her.

“As I’m bringing down my blade across that thick skin I’m thinking of all the pleasure I’ll bring myself later.”

“You think about sex while you’re killing a dragon?"

“Ugg. Will the two of you concentrate?” Cassandra yells.

After the last assassin falls, the group takes the eluvian to the Courtyard.

The Anchor spontaneously discharges as they pass the elven tree. Again. Evelyn falls to her knees as the discharges holds longer than before. Evelyn notes the pain is moving further up her arm.

Cole kneels by Evelyn. “The magic here wakes it. Familiar. Strong…Ripping apart again, all again.”

“Bloody blast it. Not helping, Cole.” Evelyn calms herself. “Sorry, Cole. It just hurts. Keep telling me things. I like what you say.”

“Your Anchor is getting worse.” Cassandra helps Evelyn stand. “Someone should look at it.”

“It’s fine now. Lets keep moving. Let’s try that last eluvian.”

BROKEN TOWER
On the other side they are greeted by an Archivist.

“Welcome. Listen to the last words of those who walked this place. If we get out of here, I will end Fen’Harel. After he held back the Sky to imprison the gods, the dread wolf disappeared. Lies. We must tear down the Veil. The cities, the pathways… Without magic, they are crumbling. You’re wasting your time. Fen’Harel’s Veil has turned our empire to ruins.”

"Held back the sky? What sky? The sky is still there." Cassandra.

“We'll go crazy trying to piece these little clues together. Let’s concentrate on the job.” Evelyn begins looking for the next dragon egg.

The group find a room where Qunari spent time studying parchments they find. Some parchments contain detailed mathematical calculations.

“I think they're trying to find a magical formula to strengthen the Veil. What do you think, Boss. Boss?” The Iron Bull turns to find Evelyn staring at yet another unique mural.

“Now what?” Cassandra asks.

“This mural is similar to one Mordine and I looked at yesterday. What are the chances two murals in two very different areas could have such similarities?”

“A mural in the Deep Roads?”

“I went back. Got to that eluvian in the Deep Roads. It took us to some outdoor elven ruins.”

“What’s similar?” Cassandra asks.

“Both had twin-looking elves, one elf of the Fade and the other of the world. Mordine would say that the symbols above the head the elves represents their world. I’d guess the one with the sphere is in the real world. Everything says the sphere is a powerful object that may contain the power of…maybe. Different and the same.”

“The borders are the same. Same as the one in the Sanctuary. Painted by the same artist possibly. Here the two elves are standing in eluvians. In the center, a circle of great energy watched by pillars of the earth...if that is what the eye-looking things are. So many things or symbols or what nots. The murals mean something.”

“What does it mean?” Cassandra asks.

“Don’t know. Clever artist. Why use plain words when you can draw things that say everything but nobody can understand. The Well of Sorrows is delighted. Hauling the Well around I feel like a mule with a cart of carrots except the carrots aren’t for me. I’ll tell Mordine.” Evelyn says.

The Iron Bull gets their attention. “While you two enjoyed your painting Cole and I found the dragon egg. The last stepping stones are up. We should be able to reach the Viddasala.”

On the way back to the eluvian they find six Qunari waiting for them.

“Oh yeah, the Qunari know we’re here. They just don't give up.” Evelyn prepares for another battle. Fighting that is beginning to wear on them all.

When they return to the Courtyard they face yet another fight.

“Shit, Boss. Fear demons! That Fear Demon in the Frostback Mountains nearly killed us all. This time there are four! Have I mentioned that...?”

“You don’t like demons. Yes. Yes, you have. I’m beginning to agree.” Evelyn's wondering how to handle the four.

Cole feeling friendly with the spirits in the Crossroads approaches the nearest librarian.

“Hello. My name is Cole.”

The Fear Demon slams poor Cole into the ground, then sends spider-looking Fearlings upon him.

“I don’t like this demon.” Cole says as Evelyn comes to his defense wiping out the Fearlings with a lightening current.

Nobody argues with Cole. Fear Demons are tricky with their spirit magic, Fearlings and overwhelming attacks.

“I give up.” Evelyn yells the third time one of the demons puts her on the ground. “Toss bee bombs!”

Four bee bombs brings the demons under control.

"Keep them busy while the Anchor recharges...and it recharges faster now."

"Why couldn't it be four dragons!" The Iron Bull complains.

Evelyn uses her getting-more-painful Anchor again and again until the demons are finished.

"You used the Anchor four times. It's never charged that fast. Are you hurt?" Cassandra ask.

"Demons got the worse of it. My guts feel cooked and scrambled. The Anchor gets more powerful every time I use it. Don't know how much I can take."

Once they had recovered they left the Courtyard through the eluvian. The steps restored they head to the inverted island.

THE INVERTED ISLAND
“Survivor of the Breach, Herald of Change, Hero of the South.” A female Qunari stands above the gathered Qunari.

“The Viddasala I presume.” Evelyn decides the Qunari are not only aware of their presence in the library but waiting for them.

“After fulfilling your purpose at the Breach it is astonishing to hear you still walk free among your people. Your duty is done, Inquisitor. It is time to end your magic.”

“So which is it? To the Circle with me or perhaps you believe in making all mages tranquil. I would think you would approve the Anchor which repairs in the Veil.”

“Is that all it does? Tell me, why hold your hand as if it’s begun to pain you?”

“If this Anchor does more than repair the Veil, then please share. I’d like to know.”

“I am no stranger to catastrophe but this chaos in the South defies comprehension. The Qun left your people to curb your own magic. You’ve amply proved we should have stepped in long ago.”

“So mass assassination? Is that the goal of Dragon’s Breath? Murdering our heads of state just to control out magic?”

“Do you believe closing the Breach solved everything? That its consequences stop there? The day we saw the Breach the Qun decided its action. We would remove your leaders and spare there toil. This agent of Fen’Harel has disrupted everything. Lives that were to be spared lost for him.”

“Who is this agent? Why would you think they work for the Inquisition?”

“Kill the Inquisitor," Orders the Viddasala, "Then follow me to the Daavaard.”

“So Boss.” The Iron Bull looks at their predicament. “Any good strategic views for this coming fight?”

“We got a lot of room to maneuver.” Evelyn decides.

“I’ll take it.”

“Who gets the Saarebas?” She askes as the warriors the attack.

“You’re welcome to the Saarebas, Boss.”

“Thanks, Bull.” Last words spoken by Evelyn before a Shock Trooper slams between them sending her tumbling into a pile of sand bags.

The Iron Bull is quick to his feet returning the charge to the Shock Trooper.

Cassandra shield bashs the Shock Trooper into submission.

Cole went after all the support agents while Evelyn try to tame the Saarebas. She guesses the best tool against the magical monster is static and ice which proves difficult to cast as the Saarebas moves quickly. His magical slams are getting the best of her and Cole so she releases her Anchor on him.

Cassandra frees herself to assist with the Saarebas. A shield bash briefly stops his movement to another area. Evelyn adds a bee bomb. Timing herself, she waits for the Saarebas to transport to release the Anchor. Cole double daggeres him into silence.

From the bodies they loot a Keystone which Evelyn believes is the key to open an eluvian.

Evelyn finds a very interesting note labeled as Risk of Saarebas.

“Listen to this note: We have learned from this place that there lived an elven mage who saw a great wrong and sacrificed all to right it. This mage made the Veil which protects us from the Fade. This Veil stripped power from his rulers, who had treated their people with such excess that it makes the southern kings and queens seem staid. Thus does every action carry rightness and all paths converge.

“In his greatest magic, the elven mage became an agent of peace through the Veil. In our willingness to brave this place, we may discover how the Veil can be strengthened through our own mages. For that, we risk our lives. The Saarebas who have joined in this endeavor understand the dangers and have made their choice.”

“Such irony. The Qun praise the ancient mage who made the Veil. Do they even realize their talking about the real Fen’Harel? Maybe that’s why this unknown agent wreaking havoc chose the name Fen’Harel.”

“The Viddasala’s efforts are misguided to believe the execution of every Southern leader… It’s insanity.” Cassandra states.

“Still think the Viddasala is rogue." The Iron Bull gives his best view of the situation. "The Qunari fought Tevinter for decades and have gotten no farther than a stalemate. How could the leaders of the Qun believe fighting Tevinter, the Free Marches, Ferelden, Orlais and the Inquisition all at the same time is a sound strategy? She is off her rocker, I say.”

“Inquisitor. This is how they're getting around our people.” Cassandra shows her another note. “The Qunari are using elves, converted to the Qun, as spies across Thedas. Elves of the Qun pass themselves as servants to infiltrate the palace.”

“No wonder. Let’s get back and warn everyone. First, let's have a chat with the Archivist upstairs.”

“Do you know where the Viddasala went?” Evelyn asks the spirit.

“Yes, we heard much although she fooled herself into thinking we could not hear. ‘Take a keystone to the Darvaard. I will join you there soon, and take stock of our remaining gaatlok powder.’ You need words for their keystone, “Maraas Nehraa.” It will open the way to the Darvaard.”

RETURN TO THE PALACE
Leliana explains the situation to the Inquisition Council. “According to my agents, we've found barrels of gaatlok throughout places of power throughout Thedas besides the Winter Palace: The Grand Cathedral, Council of Heralds, Ferelden’s Royal Palace, Orlais and Starkhaven. Every head of state across Thedas. Further, someone in the Inquisition is responsible for transporting gaatlok to the Winter Palace.”

Josephine is less than pleased. “The Inquisition is responsible for the gaatlok getting in the Winter Palace?”

“The barrels arrived on our manifest.”

“Are you saying we can’t even trust our own people?” Cullen fumes.

Josephine laments, “Do you know what the Exalted Council planning to do? While we speak they are discussing how to dismantle the Inquisition. And perhaps they are right.”

The Anchor suddenly builds sending Evelyn to her knees. She clutches her wrist as its energy expands, enveloping her. Stinging magic penetrates causing her to cry out.

Everyone watches as its power envelopes Evelyn. She is desperate to hold on and just as desperate for it to conclude. Only it didn’t.

Cullen moves toward her. She looks up in panic. “No! Don’t. Stand back. Just stand back. It needs time.”

The Anchor flares causing Leliana, Josey and Cullen to squint. As the Mark subsides she is left the kneeling, breathing heavy, her brow wet from stress. Even as the Anchor’s bout concludes sparks continue to surround her hand.

Leliana remember Evelyn’s Anchor after the Temple of Ashes destruction. “It wasn’t this bad four years ago. It’s killing you. Inquisitor, you’ll die if… What can we do?”

“It’s too late. It’s ripping me apart from the inside. It builds quicker, discharging is painful. I don’t have much time. What I do know is the Qunari need to be stopped before the Anchor finishes me.”

Ignoring her warnings, Cullen helps her up. As she nurses the hand he embraces her. After a moment she looks to him with sorrowful eyes.

“I’m sorry, Cullen. I shouldn’t have married you, shouldn’t have promised you babies.”

“There you go telling everyone we’re married.” Cullen says brushing his hand along her cheek.

“Now you decide to have a sense of humor?” She fights the pain sweeping through her.

“Apparently humor is very useful in times of stress.” He kisses her forehead to comfort her.

“Why cry when laughter can ruin a perfectly hopeless situation.” Evelyn adds.

“Where do you get these?” Josephine asks.

She leans into Cullen. “I wish I could stay here with you, but I have little time. I need to get to the Darvaard while I can still fight.”

“You are the love of my life." He says gently. "I’d appreciate it if you’d come back.”

Still holding the active Anchor, Evenly looks to her friends. “About the Exalted Council. The Divine wants the Inquisition under the Chantry. She ransoms my life for the Inquisition. If the Inquisition moves under her I’ll get to live the rest of my life peacefully in the Circle. If I don’t give her the Inquisition I’ll be made tranquil.

“She believes I’d trade the threat of tranquility for the Inquisition. My life is in her hands. She says it’s the Well of Sorrows you see. I’m a dangerous abomination.” Evelyn lets out an inappropriate laugh.

“Vivienne has me in a corner. Got to admit, she's master of the Game. Funny, I’ve always had the strangest luck. I won’t survive long enough to be sent to the Circle so you all can choose the Inquisition’s future.

“Josephine, Leliana, Cullen, they have no right to decide the Inquisition’s fate. Don’t forget that. You have choices. I trust you."

“Since the anchor is dangerous, I’ll take it where dangerous is useful. I’ll find a way to stop the Viddasala. It’s the right thing to do.”

“What shall I tell the Exalted Council?” Leliana askes.

“The truth. Tell them the Inquisition will once again save their collective butts.

“Josey, handle this with your skillful diplomacy. Sooth their ruffled feathers. Convince them the Inquisition should choose its own fate. You are a brilliant diplomat. Your words carry weight.

“Leliana, I believe the Viddasala has lost her way and is taking unadvised, unsanctioned steps to wage a war with all Thedas. Of course, if the Viddasala succeeds, Par Vollen will take credit. If she fails, Par Vollen will disavow her and all her actions.

“Cullen, you're a brilliant tactician even before a battle begins. Don’t let fools take up arms. Keep the friendship between Ferelden and Orlais.

"As for Divine Victoria, she carves out a perilous path. Give her a wide berth.”

Leliana spoke. “Thank you, Inquisitor.”

Chapter Text

The Iron Bull, Cole, Evelyn and Cassandra step out of the eluvian into a castle fortress. The fortress, unlike all the elven ruins they’ve traveled the past few days, is modern, maintained and occupied.

“This is the Darvaard.” The Iron Bull states not at all surprised.

“It’s an eluvian graveyard.” Cole says as the group huddles out of sight. “Over there. It looks like those Qunari are studying eluvians.”

“Cole, did you just talk? No deep insight, no hidden meanings?” The Iron Bull looks puzzles at Cole.

“I can talk. Unless I’m busy feeling feelings. Feelings everywhere.”

“And we lost him again. It’s okay kid. I’m kidding you. No other knife man I’d have fighting beside me.”

“Thank you, the Iron Bull. Your horns are not bull horns. They’re dragon horns. You could call yourself the Iron Dragon.”

“The Iron Dragon. That is much better.” The Iron Bull returns to the subject at hand. “Boss, a Darvaard is a magical quarantine site. Where we’ll find the Viddasala. Most people think the Qunari savage but they’re highly educated, organized, and technically advanced.”

“I respect the Qunari people but the fanaticism and dogma goes too far. No room for practical thinking. Of course, same could be said for the Chantry. But why the civics lesson?” Evelyn asks.

“Because we’re in Par Vollen.”

Evelyn’s eyes grow wide. “We traveled across the sea? You realize that means the eluvian network could go to places beyond Thedas. I’m aghast.”

“Interesting,” Cassandra says bit irritated, “but I believe there are more important matters. Besides the two Qunari over there studying eluvians I see sentries walking the perimeter. If we’re to get into the fortress we need a plan.”

“Okay. We take out these two eluvian scholars. Their Saarebas must be hit fast and hard. I’ll sneak as close and stun him. Cole can follow behind and dagger him under control.”

“Good plan, Boss.” The Iron Bull agrees. “Cassandra runs back up.”

Evelyn stealth to get quietly to the platform. Something goes terribly wrong as she begins screaming. With no warning the Anchor discharges. The power throws the two Qunari into a wall and Cole down the stairs.

The Iron Bull and Cassandra take the advantage, quickly descending on the two gravely wounded Qunari.

On her feet quickly, Evelyn checked to see if Cole is okay. She's relieved when he opens eyes.

“I’m okay.” Cole says. “You aren’t. Your hand hurts. It’s pulling you apart.”

“You noticed. I noticed.”

“The anchor changing but it’s not finished. Come on. We should hurry.” Cole gets to his feet as Cassandra and The Iron Bull finish the two Qunari.

“Leliana told us about the Anchor. Can you go on?” Cassandra asks because Evelyn looks shaken.

“Focus on the mission. All that matters is stopping the Qunari. The rest we worry about later.”

“If you need me just say.” The Iron Bull says quietly.

“I can handle it. This is bigger than me or any of us. We’re here to stop a war.” As Evelyn replies something catches her attention. “Bull. If we’re in Par Vollen why is there a very big statue of an elven deer statue at the top of that rock?”

“Don’t let your curiosity distract you, Inquisitor.” Cassandra points out.

“Okay. To the castle.”

“What about that guard tower. Should we look there?”

“Briefly, but as you just said, let’s not get distracted too much. “

“We can get there by sneaking around some of the guards, Once we're at the main gate we’ll have a fight on our hands. There may be ten guards there. Picking off one or two will make the fight go easier.” Suggests the Iron Bull.

In the Guard Tower they find the Qunari researcher. Once he is dispatched Evelyn finds a gate key and a note addressed to Tallis.

“Tallis is a title, not a name.” The Iron Bull points out.

“Maybe,” says Cassandra, “but I think this note refers to the Tallis who was in Kirkwall with the Champion.”

“Is it important?” Evelyn asks.

“Not right now.”

“Take the note and let’s move. Spread out. If it’s important, let me know otherwise make a note of it.”

“Is that red lyrium? Do the Qunari have any idea what they’re dealing with?” The Iron Bull asks.

“Red lyrium, magical relics. Astrariums, pyramids, tranquil skulls…it’s endless.” Evelyn notes.

The Iron Bull calls her from the lower level. “Oh, Boss. Get down here. You need to see this.”

Below the Qunari had excavated and transported a large fresco from an elven ruin. Not an easy task.

“The note says it’s a self-portrait of Fen’Harel.” Says the Iron Bull.

The four stare at the portrait that looks a lot like Solas.

“Reminds me of Solas’ frescos. Maybe. Something different than the others we’ve seen. It’s not a story, not static. It’s more alive.”

"Fen'Harel soars with Purpose. Soars with Pride." Cole explains.

“Could this be Solas' work, painted before joining the Inquisition, Boss.”

“If Solas painted this then why does the elf in the fresco look like Solas?”

“Solas didn’t wear robes, Boss. Totally different haircut.”

Evelyn looks at the Iron Bull. “Now you’re being funny?”

“I’ve been waiting four years to say something about Solas’s bald head.”

“Great. Funny. Let’s move along.” She jabs the Iron Bull in the side. “Okay. You get that one. Very funny.”

Cassandra's impatient, “While you two jokers were busy, I solved a riddle upstairs. One sees the hunter. That's an owl. One flees from it: Halla. One hunts it in turn: Dragon…I almost didn’t get that one. One out wits them all. Fen’Harel. That triggered a hidden compartment and we found a dagger. Cole is oodling over it as we speak.”

“It makes me faster.” Cole beams at his new dagger.

“Faster is better. Come on. Here’s the plan to get inside. I’ll stealth…without Cole this time…to that area with gaatlock barrels. I’ll show myself, the guards will run at me, I’ll set off the barrels. You all come in and finish them off.”

“Maker, Inquisitor. You do know you’ll be in the middle of the blast?” Cassandra points out the obvious.

“I’ll Fade Step as soon as I’ve release the Anchor.”

The strategy works marvelously. Except the Anchor which is building too fast. Lucky timing for them. The is gate is opened and are inside the Daavaard.

Inside they dispatch of group of Qunari leisurely sitting at a large table. On the table they find detailed instructions for making gaatlok, and a note how the spies are sneaking in gaatlok.

“So, according to this, making gaatlok is a slow process requiring mining and alchemy. The Viddasala found a short cut using venom to quickly make gaatlok in large quantities. Then it says “bringing peace to the South… save the workers of the South… deliver them into our teaching… before corruption takes over… blah, blah, blah.” Evelyn says. “Let’s move on.”

Around the corner they find the Viddasala’s study filled with caches of magical.

“Look at this place! This catalog is filled with magical items. Why do they need so many artifacts?” Cassandra asks.

“My guess?” Evelyn says, “To unlock eluvians. A key may be words, a magical spell, an enchanted item, knowledge. She’s stockpiling possible keys to eluvians.”

“So many things.” Cole is mesmerized.

“Oh great Maker! “ Evelyn exclaims.

“What is it?” Cassandra hurries over to her. “What did you find?”

“This is one of Varrics’ novels, from the smutty romance series. In her office.”

“So, the Viddasala likes smutty literature. Good enough for blackmail?” The Iron Bull asks.

“It’s not smutty. It’s romantic!” Cassandra protests. “Alright, it’s smutty. Good smutty.”

"Keep up the funny. It distracts me from blowing myself up with the Anchor.” Evelyn adds.

“So, you're being funny.” Cassandra says.

“Oh, Great Maker. This place is full of puns and stuns. Big stun coming.” Evelyn says. “This is a response to a message Josephine sent to the Salasari of the Qun Trumvirate asking why the Qunari are attacking the Inquisition. The Trumvirate wrote back saying they approved no military action against us or the Exalted Council. They inform her they are seeking to apprehend the Viddasala who acts without their consent.”

“So.” Cassandra.

“Don’t you get it? The Viddasal intercepted this letter. It never reached Josephine. The Viddasala is rogue. Somewhere along the way she carved out her own agenda. What caused her to go her own way? She's studying magic but then she starts using magic. Feeding lyrium to her Saarbas. Lots of lyrium. Qunari don’ let their Saarebas anywhere near lyrium, right? And we just saw red lyrium.”

“The Song scares them. It’s the wrong song, the wrong blood.” Cole interrupts. “The Song is different but the pieces fit together.”

“The Qun strictly forbids the use of lyrium, and I mean forbid." says the Iron Bull. "She may very well be mad.”

“We’re distracting ourselves. This is important but it's nothing if we can’t stop her. We'll sort out her madness later. Grab any notes you find and let’s move.” Evelyn pushes them forward to the next room.

Down the hall the quietly enter a large area. They duck behind a balusters. Beyond the room is an opening into a very large space and a…

“Oh, Boss! It’s a dragon! That’s badass.”

“Dragon’s Breath is an actual dragon? Is it spitting venom? Do dragons spit venom?” Evelyn asks.

“If this is your last day on earth, Boss, at least you got to see a dragon. She is magnificent!”

“Oh, thanks Bull for cheering me up.” Evenly grumbles.

"Anytime, Boss.

A Qunari spearman spots them. “Teth a’Bas!”

The Viddasala shows up on a balcony.

Evelyn stands as the Viddasala and a number of Qunari enter the room along with the biggest Saarebas she’s ever seen.

“Inquisition! Neraa Ataashi-Asaara Meravas Adim Kata!”

Viddasala speaks directly calls to the Iron Bull to assist. “Hissrad! Now, please. Vinek Kathas.”

The Iron Bull replies, “Not a Chance, Ma’am”

“You’ve come far enough, Inquisitor. No more.” Before leaving the room, the Viddasala orders the attack and leaves them to fight for their lives.

"Suggestion, Iron Bull?”

“Anchor time or we’re gonna get our butts kicked.”

Evelyn does her best. She fights her way to areas with stacked Gaatlok while tempting Qunari to attack. Soon as they approach she unleashes the Anchor. Cole finishes off the wounded Qunari.

She races to assist the Iron Bull who is being soundly damaged by the Saarebas. The Anchor isn't yet recharged so she uses a lightening trap but the Saarebas puts the Iron Bull to the ground. It isn't good.

Evelyn gives the Iron Bull several healing potion. "Back on your feet, solider. Take out supports and keep your distance from the Saarebas. I’ll try to get control of the beast.”

“Got it boss.”

Evelyn’s Anchor is charged so she looks for the beast. Saarebas slams Cole to the ground then looks for his next victim. Time to be noticed.

Evelyn Fade Steps to a pile of Gaatlok but not before the Saarebas hits her with a Lightening Ball. She tumbles into the Gaatlok barrels. The Saarebas approaches charging up another spell.

She pushes between the barrels of gaatlok as the Saarebas approaches. She casts a lightening trap catching Saarebas in its perimeter. Lightening and fire set off gaatlok but Evelyn doesn't attempt to leave.

Evelyn releases the Anchor. The blast is huge. Cassandra witnesses an explosion pushing out more than twenty feet in all directions, Evelyn disappears in the cloud of smoke. Saarebas is thrown dead away from the explosion. Evelyn stumbles out of the carnage.

Just as they think the battle over more soldiers enter the room. With one less Saarebas to fight, Evelyn recovers enough to help finish the party of Shock trooper, Spearmen Defender and Assassins. Not an easier fight at all but they are successful.

“Is everyone alright?” Evelyn asks.

"Us? What about you blowing up in the middle of the gaatlok.”

“The Anchor protected me somewhat for the explosion. I mean it hurt and so did the Anchor but I’m still dressed and have all my hair.” Evelyn says as she handles the pain.

“Don’t think that was the best way to test the Anchor.” Cassandra notes.

“Hey Boss, you’re gonna like this. This note has the formula for Gaatlok. One part Ataashi Venom, equal parts Deathroot auxin, three parts powdered Silverrite. It’s not the original recipe.”

Cassandra looks over other notes. “We have all the evidence we need about the Dragon’s Breath plan. We take down that dragon and we end the Dragon's Breath plan.”

“She's hurt” Cole points at the dragon. The very angry, injured dragon. “She did nothing to deserve it.”

“Oh, come on, Boss. We haven’t killed a dragon in two years. Need a good fantasy.”

Evelyn walks them to the Venom Extraction Chamber. The Dragon is fighting her Qunari handlers. She been obviously wounded, probably in the Qunari’s effort to extract venom.

“Listen up. I’ve done enough killing today so I say we free this beast, if we can. Let's kick a few more Qunari butts and find the Viddasala. So, you all keep the Qunari busy, avoid the Dragon and I’ll try to figure out how this contraption works to free the dragon.

“If you say so, Boss.”

“Bull, dragons are not extinct anymore. I suspect you’ll have a few more dragon skulls to grace quarters. Lets this one go.” Evenly gets a nod from The Iron Bull.

Cassandra charges the Qunari handlers while Evelyn examines the three platforms. Each has a mechanism controlling rings of fire that kept the dragon from escaping. In order to release the dragon the rings must line up. One ring is blocked so Evelyn no choice but use her Anchor to clear the debris. It works.

Gates open and the dragon flies across the hillside to unknown destinations.

"Yes, we're helping her! She's free!" Cole is ecstatic.

Feels good to help the dragon, Evelyn thinks but the Anchor is burning her up inside every time she uses it. Sure, the Anchor is protecting her from outside damage but if she uses the Anchor too many times she’ll disintegrate. To survive she must use it less, if possible.

Evelyn and her group follow the dragon out the door. On the bridge she finds Viddasala standing by large eluvian with a dozen warriors and the freakishly big Saarebas.

“Viddasala!” Evelyn yells.

“Dear Inquisitor, you have such little time left, you must finally see the truth. Elven magic already tore the sky apart. If the agents of Fen’Harel are not stopped, your hand will shatter the world as well.”

“The inquisition has nothing to do with these agents. And how could I shatter the world?”

“Come, inquisitor, I am the eyes and ears of the Qunari people. Do you think you can deceive me? You would have died from the Mark on your hand but for the help of their chief agent. The same agent who helped seal the Breach. Who led you to Skyhold. Who gave Corypheus the orb, then founded the Inquisition. Solas, agent of Fen’Harel.

Goosebumps across her body. A tap on the shoulder, a kick in the gut. “Solas is an agent of Fen’Harel?

The Viddasala looks at Evelyn curiously. “Did you not know? We believed you were his ally. Solas tricked us all. He pushed a dying Qunari into the Winter Palace to lure you into opposing us. Without him, we could have brought the South peace and wisdom along the gentle path. Now we must take the way of blades.”

Suddenly Evelyn finds herself on her knees crying out in pain, gripping the Anchor.

“Panahedan, Inquisitor. If it is any consolation, Solas will not outlive you.

Evelyn grips the Anchor tighter, the pain greater than before. Maker help me, she thinks, I am no longer in control of the Anchor. It charges too quick, it hurts not to discharge, it must be discharged, every discharge hurts. No limiting it's use. These is less time than she thinks.

She turns to her companions. “Solas was once a part of us and I respected him. More than that he saved my life once before. I need him to heal my hand. It’s my only chance.”

Everyone nods and follows her into the eluvian.

Chapter Text

Evelyn and her team step into a beautiful elven ruin, stunning with exotic foliage, water features, and expansive bridges. Beauty to be ignored as there are Qunari to battle, the Viddasala to stop and Solas to find.

At the top of an overgrown path they see the Viddasala’s team. Evelyn and her companions run to catch them.

The pursuit is abruptly halted when the Anchor accelerates to a dangerous level and is ready to release. She attempts to step ahead of her team when the Anchor violently erupts throwing everyone in all directions.

Evelyn feels like her chest exploded but seems to be intact. She gets to her knees to look for everyone else. Her team is sprawled across the ground but all getting to their feet.

Cassandra is first up, “Inquisitor, if this keeps up like this it will kill you. Solas must help, as he did at Haven.”

“Listen, all of you, if this thing is about to discharge you need to get away. Do you understand? Get away!”

“It changed again," Cole says. "It kills everything. It needs to get out.”

“I know, Cole. Yes, and charging faster and…well, just try not to stand near me. I can’t protect you.”

Across a deep gully, at the top of a crest Evelyn sees the Viddasala entering another Eluvian. “We can’t lose them. We have to keep up.” She yells as she nurses her left hand. She stumbles briefly as she moves ahead. There isn't much time. Solas is her only hope.

As they approach the eluvian the Quanari attack.

Feeling the Anchor building again and quickly, with no choice, she must release its power. Soon. She is ahead of her people by a few feet. She tries to run faster at the Qunari. The Anchor is builds. She's on the Qunari when she discharges the Anchor throwing him dead on his back. When her team catches up Evelyn jumps through the eluvian.

The Viddadal is waiting for them. She orders her people to attack and Qunari emerge from all corners. Evelyn groans. This will hurt...her.

Evelyn lures the nearest Qunari then releases the Anchor. Except for the Shock Trooper, all others fall dead or severely wounded. Leaving her team to finish leftovers, Evelyn runs ahead to take out the warriors by the mirror. Taking advantage of nearby gaatlok barrels, she releases Anchor with enough power that the four range warriors are permanently out of commission. Evelyn, with little time, tries to take a second to breathe but her lungs feel like they are on fire. Tick, tock, Inquisitor, tick, tock.

Chances of survival are small; slight even to reach Solas in time. One should have time to contemplate the end of life, to think about the people you love. Her mind flash's images of Haven, meeting Anders, Varric, all her companions. She wants to live, to see a future with Cullen, to live in his embrace. The Iron Bull, Cole, Cassandra willingly follow her through this hell. She must fight to keep them alive, to do the right thing. She is incapable of doing any thing else. She takes her team through the next eluvian.

They emerge at the end of a long bridge with Qunari stationed along the way. Cole, The Iron Bull and Cassandra stand behind her, they stand by a large courtyard. Evelyn feels feel the Anchor building.

“The Anchor is building even faster. We don't have much time. I don’t have much time.”

“How long?” Cassandra asks.

“Minutes, ten minutes, not long. It's consuming me inside. If we can just reach the Viddasala. We just need…” Evelyn doesn't finish her words. A discharge is on her so she runs toward the next group of Qunari.

Before the three warriors can take cover, Evelyn sets off the Anchor killing the whole group. She doesn't wait, she keeps running.

The Viddasala speaks at them in the Courtyard of the Shrine to the Dread Wolf. Two percent of her brain thinks it interesting that the Dread Wolf, who claims not to be a God had his own shrine. Evelyn hears little else the Viddasala says as the Anchor has a life of its own, she has little if no control. Her guts boil every time the Anchor discharges. She has no time for the Viddasala’s rants.

Evelyn takes notice the pet Saarebas because he lands not five feet from her sending her to the ground with a grunt.

Maybe it's anger or fear that droves Evelyn but she quit worrying about herself. She is taking down the Saarebas if it was the last thing she does. She’s seen enough of the Saarebas to know his powers and techniques. This is a game of evasion then hitting the Saarebas while it build up its own spells.

At the cost of her own health, Evelyn knocks away his health using the Anchor on him every time it's at near full power. She protects her people from the monster's magic with a magical barrier.

In the mist of the fight, Saarebas becomes unstable. He grasps his mask with his hands, twisting in pain. His mask brakes and he seems to be possessed.

“He hurts when she’s not near.” Cole says. “That could be very bad.”

“I believe the Saarebas is no longer following orders, Boss.” The Iron Bull says.

Evelyn discharged the Anchor again and it seemed to take a serious toll on the Saarebas. He teleports upward and disappears.

“You will not leave here, Inquisitor!” Yells the Viddasala.

“We got to move while we can...while I can.” Evelyn says. She looks at her team and realized how badly hurt they are. They barely have time to heal themselves trying to keep up with her.

She tosses them all her healing potions. “These can’t help me anymore. Use them. No matter what happens to me, I want you to stay alive. Do you understand? Stay alive. Let’s go.”

Evelyn charges across the short path. The few Qunari there are unfortunate to be standing by some gaatlok barrels. The Anchor desperately needs to be discharged so Evelyn runs right in the middle of the Qunari and the gaatlok and released its power. There is nothing for her team to clean up.

Evelyn falters. Breathing is difficult, almost too difficult to go on. When her team caught up she ignores the pain and pushes forward. Without the Anchor she nor her team could survive fighting the overwhelming number of Qunari. It's frightening just how powerful the Anchor is, and is becoming.

As much as the Anchor is tearing Evelyn up she discharges it as often as needed to bring down the warriors between her and the Viddasala. They catch up with the Viddasala waiting at a large eluvian.

“You are dead, Inquisitor. Your soul is dust.” Even the Viddasala underestimates the powerful Anchor.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Evelyn yells charging the Viddasala who disappears into the eluvian.

The pet Saarebas appears from the sky knocking everyone to the ground. This time he is fighting to the death. Evelyn has everything she needs to take him down except the unleashed Saarebas is even stronger than before.

Evelyn positions herself to charge the Saarebas. On approach the Anchor is at full charge discharge by it own will.

At peak power of the Anchor liftes her into the air. Its energy fills the air crackling and burning then in a thunderous roar fully discharges. Evelyn fees the explosion then crashes to the ground. No doubt the beast feels it too.

The Anchor changes yet again. If Evelyn doesn't discharge the Anchor as it nears peak power it will explode with immense power. Her lungs are seared and she struggles to breathe. This can kill her team. This fight needs to end fast.

Evelyn concentrates on protecting her team so they could live through the Saarebas’ attacks and stay clear of the Anchor's discharge. As the Anchor nears its peak Evelyn cover the team with a Barrier, runs to the Saarebas then releases the Anchor. As soon as she clears away her team attacks.

The offensive plan works, the Saarebas panics. He becomes distort, strange forms appear around his head, is hands glow. He calls into the Fade and produces demons. It isn't good.

“Boss, you see this? Is the Saarebas creating Fade Rifts and calling demons? Is he an abomination? This is not right.”

The Anchor builds so fast Evelyn doesn't hear Bull but she sees the demons. She focuses on killing the demons which takes pressure off her team.

She miscalculates her timing. As the Anchor near its peak she’d hadn't set a barrier for the team. She screams for them to run as she nears the the Saarebas. The Anchor lifts her, the air crackles and thunders releasing an explosion.

The Iron Bull hears the warning and manages to grab Cassandra and roll them both clear. Cole ends up curled up in a ball at the edge of the discharge. Everyone manages to get clear. With not a moment to spare all three attacks the Saarebas.

The Iron Bull notices first. Normal weapons no longer hurt the Saarebas. "Boss, hate to bother you with the Anchor trying to kill you and all but our weapons have no effect on this beast anymore. If we're gonna finish him you'll have to use the Anchor. Sorry, boss. Use the Anchor!"

Her team turns on the demons leaving her with the Saarebas. She hadn't but a brief moment to consider it but the Anchor is going to kill more than just the beast. She can barely stand. The Anchor evolved, time between peaks diminishes, it just keeps going and going and going. She can just picture it: Her burned-up body dead on the ground and the Anchor suddenly realizing it has no legs. Nice. A bit a humor to lift the spirits.

The Saarebas is quickly failing. Summoning demons does not help him. Her team is good at demons. Evelyn hit him the Anchor three more times and he is done.

Cassandra is first to reach Evelyn. She isn't standing. As the Anchor grows stronger Evelyn is weaker. She grabs Evelyn around her waist to hold her up.

“Rest, if just for a moment. Let’s put a lyrium and healing potion in you.”

“Won’t work. The Anchor is too strong. The stronger the Anchor the less there is of me. We need to move before the Anchor erupts again. Please, just get me to the mirror.”

Cassandra holds onto Evelyn while The Iron Bull and Cole follow behind. Cassandra lets go of Evelyn at the eluvian.

“The Viddasala better surrender," Evelyn leans against the eluvian, "because all I have left is really mean insults.”

Cassandra laughs maybe because she is too tired and hurt to fight the impulse. “One day they’re going to say the Inquisitor was hilarious."

Evelyn steps into the eluvian. Cassandra puts out her hand to enter but the mirror is solid. No one gets through except Evelyn.

“Oh, shit.” The Iron Bull says.

Chapter Text

Iron Bull, Cassandra and Cole wait anxiously by the eluvian that allowed the Inquisitor to pass through but not them.

Cole leans his head against the solid mirror as if he is eavesdropping. He runs his finger nail across the hard surface. “She’s in there. We must wait.”

“How long do we wait?” The Iron Bull asks Cassandra.

“As long as it takes.” Cassandra paces back and forth. “We can send someone and alert the others but I prefer to wait at least a bit before we do that.”

Cole looks back at the Seeker. “We won’t have to wait. Solas has other places to go.”

Cassandra asks, “What does that mean?”

Cole backs away as the eluvian shimmers to life. The Inquisitor tumbles out falling to the ground.

Cassandra drops to her knees beside the unmoving figure. Her eyes widen. “Great maker, her hand is gone.”

“He took the Anchor to save her.” Cole says. “He took the Anchor to save his people.”

"Inquisitor!" Cassandra gently shakes Evelyn hoping for a sign of life. Evelyn groans. “Thank the Maker, she’s alive.”

She turns to the Iron Bull. “Can you carry her?’

The Iron Bull picks the Inquisitor up. “Easily.”

Cassandra emerges first through the Winter Palace eluvian. She barkes orders at soldiers on duty.

“The Inquisitor is gravely injured. You, guard, go find a healer. No, wait. Find Ellendra, our healer. Bring her to the Inquisitor’s room.” She turns to another guard, “You, find Leliana and the Ambassador. And Commander Rutherford. Go!”

The Inquisitor in his arms, The Iron Bull follows Cassandra toward the palace. “She saved us all,” he says to the guards. “The Qunari threat is over.”

Cullen rushes in from the gardens relieved she is alive. Temporary joy disappears when he sees her pale face. “Great Maker. She looked better coming out of the blizzard.”

“Commander, escort the Iron Bull to her room. I'll find the healer personally.” Cassandra heads to the Inquisition’s side of the garden.

Cullen walks the Iron Bull through the foyer. The commotion catches the Council's attention. The Divine appeares followed by the Exalted Council.

Divine Victoria demands that Cullen stop and tell her what is happening.

Cullen moves between the Divine and the Iron Bull. “Leave her be.” A red face Cullen has zero patience. “She just saved us, again. She is… If she’s going to die I’ll see she has some peace.”

Outside her room Cullen gives orders to Inquisition guards posted at the end of the hall. “Keep this area secure. No one, and I mean even the Empress herself walks walk down this hall. No one save the Inquisition Council tells you otherwise."

It's late evening when Evelyn returned from the Daavard. By early morning, her healer, Ellendra, declares Evelyn's condition stable. They wait only for her to wake.

Standing at the open door, Cullen points Sarge to a spot outside. “Hold this position, soldier. Sound the alarm to any unauthorized intruders.” Sarge rewards him with a double bark.

“That Sarge?"

The sound of her voice is music to his ears. Cullen closes the door and sits beside her on the bed. He resists a need to gather her in his arms.

“How long?” She asks quietly.

“They carried you back late last night. It’s early morning.” He kisses her forehead.

Ellendra stands on the opposite side of the bed. “Let’s sit you up.”

“I’m fine, I can…” Evelyn looks puzzled when she can't push herself up. She pulls the sheet back and finds part of her arm missing.

“Awe! He took the Anchor and my hand? Bloody hell, Solas! What happen?” She looks to Cullen for answers.

“We've only part of the story.” Cullen helps her to sit up. “Bull said you followed the Viddasala into the mirror and came out with…part of the arm.”

“You’re very lucky. From what Cassandra said, the Anchor was killing you.” Ellendra adds. “Your body needs time to recover. The arm... magic injury. I'll monitor it. Go slow and easy. You must rest, no running about. You’ll be unsteady for a while.”

Leliana and Josephine slip quietly into the room.

“Alive but missing part of my arm.” Evelyn grumbles at what was left of her arm. "I liked that hand."

Cullen kisses Evelyn affectionately to reassure her. “It doesn’t matter. You came back. You’re alive. It’s all that matters.”

Evelyn’s eyes grow wide. “You just… you kissed me in front of everyone.”

Cullen blushes lightly. He did let down his guard. “Not the first time. I kissed you in front of Mother Gisselle when we were married.”

“You’re married!” Ellendra exclaims.

“Private ceremony three days ago.” Leliana explains.

"Eloped.” Josephine confirms.

“If you’re not too tired, Inquisitor, we'd like to hear what happened. After you entered the eluvian?” Leliana asks.

“She needs rest.” Ellendra insists.

“Ellendra, just a few minutes.” Evelyn says. “Rest can wait.”

After Evelyn fills in the details about Solas Josephine updates her on the Exalted Council.

“Arl Teagan demands the Inquisitor appear today or the Royal Guard will arrest the whole Inquisition for not cooperating. Then Orlais and Ferelden will march to Skyhold and take the Inquisition apart.”

“Forget it. You need more rest.” Leliana suggests.

“Calm down? They think they have rights over the Inquisition? Surely they can't be worried about me? I’m a one-armed, scarred up woman who can’t button her own shirts. Andraste’s knickers, when I can’t put on my own clothes and buckle my own boots I’m supposed to be a hundred years old.” Evelyn grumbles.

“Easy now. You’re tired. You need time to recover. Just rest.” Cullen says.

“You’re right, not ready to face them this morning. Tell the Exalted Council the Inquisitor will attend this afternoon.” Evelyn says. “Less one arm.”

“I’ll inform the Council.” Josephine heads out immediately.

“Time for everyone to go. The Inquisitor needs rest if you expect her to stand in front of the Council.” Ellendra says.

Cullen feels Evelyn's hand slip into his. He pulls it up and kisses her one remaining hand.

“You’ll stay?” She askes quietly.

“Until the day I die.”

“So dramatic.” She smiles. “So Sarge’s on duty?”

“Even the Divine wouldn’t dare to come in.”

“Good Sarge.”

Ellendra excuses herself to pick up some food for Evelyn. Before she opens the door she looks back and sees Evelyn resting against Cullen’s chest.

“Just rest.” Cullen says. “I promise to keep you safe.”

“What a romantic.”

“I told you so.” Cullen relaxes as she rests gently against his chest.

Leliana and the Inquisitor stand outside listening to the Exalted Council’s discussion.

“I agree something must be done but we cannot lose the inquisition now. We stand on the brink of war with the Qunari.” The Lord Cyril said.

“They are dangerous yet they remain in their own fortress because this Solas provided it to them in the first place!” Argued Arl Teagan.

“The inquisition did not cause the Qunari threat. We informed the summit of the danger.” Josephine intervenes.

“The danger posed by Qunari spies in your organization.” Arl Teagan counters.

“We were all compromised by the Qunari. We’ve discovered Qunari spies among your own people: Stewards in Ferelden’s court, servants in the Grand Cathedral, guards in the Denerim City Watch, servants in Starkhaven’s Palace, servants in Orlais’s royal palace as well as other key location.”

Cassandra is less patient. “We stopped the threat. Without the Inquisition none of you would be here to complain.”

Outside Evelyn prepares herself to walk inside.

“Let me fix that button for you.” Leliana says.

“Don’t. They’ll be uncomfortable looking at a button a cripple can't fasten and they’ll fight the urge to come down and button it for me. If anyone does, I win. So leave it.”

"No one will come down and button your jacket."

"That's because I'm scary. A one arm inquisitor armed with bad jokes."

“Right. Your bad jokes are scary. " Cassandra replies. "Are you ready?”

“Let's go.”

Inside, Arl Teagan yells at Cassandra, “No one has forgotten what you have done, but Corypheus is two years dead."

Divine Victoria does not intervene. The arguing works to her advantage. She lets it continue until the door slams shut and the Inquisitor stands at the back of the room.

The large crowd watches the Inquisitor walks forward accompanied by Leliana. She stays close as the Inquisitor is less than steady on her feet.

Dressed in the inquisition’s red military jacket, the second button undone, she carries a large book. Confirming rumors that she lost part of her arm, her jacket sleeve folds back to where it is severed. She put the book on the edge of the Inquisition’s table.

“Arl Teagan, Lord Cyril, and Divine Victoria, Thank you for your patience. My unexpected injuries caused this Council great inconvenience and I apologize. I am here now."

In an unusually calm matter she continues, “The Inquisition apologizes for holding back information over the last three days while we faced yet another crisis. Late this morning we provided each of you full information about a Qunari faction planning a preemptive strike on all of its Southern neighbors. We were all compromised.

“The Viddasala’s misfortune was targeting the Inquisition as well. With unique skills developed during the Breach crisis, the Inquisition’s response was swift and precise identifying the responsible parties and removing the threat. War with the Qunari ended before it began. It is time for your nations to send your ambassadors and diplomats to speak with the Qunari Triumvirate to prevent future misunderstandings.”

She laid a finger on the book sitting on the desk. “Do you know what this is? A Writ. A Writ from Divine Justina authorizing the formation of the Inquisition and granting us the authority to act. A Seeker, a Templar, a Chantry spy, an Antivan noble, and a Circle Mage followed this Writ to organize a force to close the Breach, find those responsible, and restore order. With this Writ, the Inquisition needs no treaty, or pact, or authorization to act, nor anyone’s approval: Not from Orlais, not Ferelden, nor Tevinter or the Free Marches. Following the death of Divine Justina, the Chantry severed all ties with the Inquisition thus losing all authority over us, our actions, and our property.

A bit theatrical she says, “The Inquisition was birthed in the chaos of the templar-mage war, baptized in the fight against Corypheus. We ended chaos and delivered Thedas peace.

Evelyn pauses and looks directly at Divine Victoria. “Divine Victoria if I may ask: When you send me back to the Circle will you allowe me to choose which Circle I shall live out my life?

The Divine is shocked and taken aback by the unexpected question. Evelyn sees heat in her eyes, as if she is close to losing that cool demeanor. With all eyes on her, the Divine fights to compose herself.

Divine Victoria responds in her most practiced calm and charming manner. “Of course you may choose your Circle, my dear.”

“Thank you, Your Perfection.”

Evelyn focuses on the whole council. “The Inquisition’s purpose is not to take over any sovereign state, or supply soldiers to a nation’s armies, or serve as the Chantry’s military arm. The Inquisition belongs to no one but to its purpose: to restore order. The Exalted Council desires to guide the Inquisition as if we had no sense of who we are, demanding us to bow to their agenda. That is precisely what we will not do.

“As of this moment I announce that the Inquisition shall retire from service to Thedas. We shall step aside, lay down our arms, and return to our families. Divine Victoria, Arl Teagan and Lord Cyril, the Inquisition has fillfilled it's purpose and now disbands. Andraste guide you. You must face the future, do what’s right and live with the consequences of your actions. Maker help us all for we shall live under your rule and protection.

Evelyn turns and leaves taking no comments or questions.

Leliana cautchs Evelyn by the waist and walks her to the door.

“They’re all sitting there with their mouths wide open.” Leliana tells Evelyn leaning against her for support.

“Good. I need to lie down.”

Lelianna and Ellendra sit by Evelyn's side. Cullen stands at the door with Sarge.

“Please don't bring that dog in here." Ellendra says to Cullen. "How about take him for a walk?"

"But..." Cullen starts.

"Go on. She'll be here when you get back." Having sent Cullen and Sarge on their way, Ellendra turns to Lelianna. "So how did it go?

“Last I saw? All of them sitting there stunned.” Leliana watches Ellendra help Evelyn out of her red jacket and into bed clothes. "She put them in their place and knocked them down a peg or two."

“Good. They should get off their noble butts and do something besides whine about the Inquisition because we are no longer in their sights.” Evelyn says.

“I should go back and support Josey. I’m sure the Council has questions.”

“Leliana? Come back later to talk about all this? Maybe this evening?” Evelyn asks.

“Of course.” Leliana says by the door. "Can't wait to witness the aftermath of our announcement. Rest, Inquisitor, I expect we’ll depart for Skyhold tomorrow.”

“If you see Cullen, tell him to hurry back?” Evelyn asks.

“Or not. She needs rest.” Ellendra says.

"Yes, she does. I'll tell the guards to keep visitors away. Rest, Evelyn, I'll talk to you later.” Lelianna leaves Evelyn in Ellendra's care.

Evelyn tries arrange blankets with only one arm and getting a bit frustrated. Without a word Ellendra pulls up the blanket.

"Guess this is my life now. Assistance needed for the most simple tasks. Maybe the Empress can share tips on living while everyone around you does everything for you."

"So fussy. It's my pleasure, Inquisitor, to help you. The mages at Skyhold are indebt to you. You brought the College of Enchanters together. You helped the templars. I’ll see you continue changing things for the better in the years to come.”

Not a moment later the door opens.

Four templars in full uniform and swords drawn enter the room. They spread across the chamber. The lead templar steps closer to the bed.

Evelyn knows. Her day is come. No stopping it.

Ellendra protests. “I don’t know who sent you but you’ve no business in this room. The Inquisitor is still recovering and needs rest.”

The lead templar waves to the others to remain where they stand.

“Stand down.” He says to Ellendra then looks to Evelyn. “You’re the Inquisitor? Evelyn Trevelyan?”

Evelyn remains unmoving in bed. She cannot suppress the fear running through her body. She fights to replied in an even tone and calm manner.

“I am Evelyn Trevelyan. Formally, Inquisitor Trevelyan. Who are you, if I am allowed to ask?”

He removes his helmet and draws closer. As he stands at the end of the bed they take the moment to fully recognize the other.

The salt and pepper hair Evelyn notes first. The burn scar below his eye removes all doubt. She escalates to a near level of panic. She desperately tries to remain calm.

His purpose is forgotten. “You? You're dead...you should be dead. You’re the Herald of Andraste? You of all people?”

“I thought the apostates killed you.” She said bravely.

“The apostates caught us off guard and put us all down. They didn't bother checking on three dead templars. I alone survived.”

The moment grew as each considered what comes next.

“Will you have me killed?” He asks.

“Why would I? Oh, because you tortured me. I’m not sure what’s worse, facing the man who nearly flogged me to death or knowing you're the templar taking me back to the Circle.”

He waits the answer to his inquiry.

“You will come to no harm from me or any person in the Inquisition. You have my protection. I will not resist you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What happened that night haunts me. I was left disfigured and ashamed. Took time to accept the scars and live with them as I must now live with one less hand...arm, hand, bit of both. As for the Circle, I know who I am. I knew this day would come. I’ve obsessed about it, feared it. Never far from my mind. And here you are. I am curious.”

“About what?”

“Did you face the decision? Red or blue? Join the corrupted templars or spend your days looking for the blue. Find lyrium or face the inevitable withdraws. What did you do?”

“Found a supplier. Not always steady but it kept me alive. The Chantry found me. Steady supply of lyrium for Templar service.”

“A mage sits on the Sunburst Throne.”

“And we no longer the Templar Order. We are the Divine’s templars.”

“But you get lyrium. A higher amount than the Order requires. In five years the brain damage will start showing, if not sooner.”

“We don’t have much choice. We’re watched closely.”

“The templars at Skyhold take the minimum and some even less. You have choices.”

“Why are you telling me this? You should be happy I’ll be a drooling idiot in five years not knowing who I am or where I am. Begging for lyrium on the street.”

“You’re wrong. I do care. That's why I say you have a choice.”

“I’m here to take you to the Circle. That’s all.”

“After you drag me back to the Circle, you'll return to Divine Victoria and report you did your duty and receive your next philter of lyrium. Your reward for honoring your vows to the Divine. The Divine’s Templars. Not templar vows, not the Templar Order.”

“Your templars serve you.”

“The templars at Skyhold do not serve me. They are the Templar Order. We work side by side.”

Ellendra spoke up, “If you’ve heard about the templars at Skyhold then you’ve heard about the College of Enchanters, the Circle at Skyhold. The Inquisitor, Evelyn Trevelyan is a member of the College of Enchanters; she is already a part of a Circle."

Evelyn looks at Ellendra with complete adoration. “The Divine told the Exalted Council I could choose my Circle. My choice is made. Will you honor that choice?”

“It’s time to go.” He holds out his hand to her.

“Stop.” Ellendra moves to intercept. “Let me at least dress her.”

The templar nods. Ellendra helps Evelyn out of bed and into her robe.

“She shouldn’t be walking. Let me carry her.” Ellendra says.

“I’ll carry her.” The templar replies.

“I’m her healer so I’m going. Don’t bother saying no. If she dies on your watch you’ll regret it.”

The templar motions to Ellendra to let him pass. He picks up Evelyn. Ellendra covers her with a blanket.

“What is your name?” Evelyn asks.

“My name is Sur Lowry.”

Another Templar opens the door and clears the hall for any interference. Instead of going down the hall where Inquisition soldiers stood guard they turn to the balcony. Using a hidden latch the large window opens. They passed through the window and turned to the next window on the balcony which is already open.

“So basically you snuck in. Cowards.” Ellendra says.

“Quiet or I will quiet you.” Another templar snaps.

“Gently.” Evelyn looks to Ellendra, “I made a promise. No one is harmed this day.”

“Gently” Sur Lowry instructs the templar.

Making way through service corridors they come to a door that opens to an area by the stables. Four horses and a cart wait them outside. A cart ready to carry a mage with ties, a hood and shackles.

Evelyn finds it difficult to be upbeat or confident in the moment. "Too many slots in those shackles. Only got one arm.” She says to Lowry as he set her down.

“They are unnecessary.” Lowry mounts his horse. “You ride with me.”

He put out his hand. Another templar assists her and she sits sideways in front of Lowry. He look to Ellendra. “You have a choice, mage. Ride in the cart or with one of my brothers.”

“The Inquisitor says we are cooperating, so I’m cooperating.” Another templar lifts Ellendra to ride behind him.

They leave the Winter Palace on horseback, three templars, Sur Lowry, Evelyn, and Ellendra.

Chapter Text

Cullen walks Sarge past the garden fountains, his mind on a hopeful future. He watches Sarge running about looking for sticks. So deep in thought about his last days as the Inquisition’s Military Adviser he is taken by surprise by a Chantry guard.

“Commander. The Divine would like a word.” He points to a bench where the Divine sits.

Cullen pulls himself from his daydreams. He calls Sarge to his side and approaches the Divine. Why isn't the Divine handling the uproar between Arl Teagan and Cyril de Montfort?

“Your Perfection. What can I do for you?”

“Darling, I'm concerned about our Evelyn. She was so pale when she spoke to the Council. Is she under a healer’s care?”

“She is recovering.”

“Yes, of course. She survived a great trauma. The magic in the Crossroads made the Anchor dangerous and unstable. A blessing it was removed. Her wound is stable with no complications?”

Cullen nods.

“So fortunate for the Inquisitor. What about the Ancient Elven relic possessing her? ”

Cullen’s eye twitches, he reacts sharply at the Divine's word. “Possessed?”

“Elven magic affected the Anchor. May effect the Well of Sorrows relic as well. We've noticed her growing irrational behavior. Surely as a templar you’re concerned about the Well of Sorrow's control over of her.”

Cullen grows increasingly irritated.

“She’s always been responsible, until recently." The Divine continues. "Running reckless into the Crossroads with a researcher, no support or guard. Unusual not informing her Military Advisor. It’s not like her. When did she tell the Inquisition that the Anchor was spontaneously discharging? It became deadly. She put so many people in grave danger. Surely as a former Templar you can recognize dangerous changes in a mage.”

“How you know these things?” He says tersely.

“Our Evelyn is always discrete, as a person in her position should be. Yet she embarrassed you soundly at dinner, did she not? Has she always shown such impropriety? Yes, she speaks her mind, but embarrassing her peers. That’s quite new.”

A dangerous heat rises in Cullen. “This is none of your business.”

“Darling, the Anchor changed into a lethal weapon, yes? The Anchor killed Qunari and it should have killed her. Humans cannot survive such trauma but a demon can." The Divine emphasis on demon caused Cullen's face to turn red. Just as the Divine hoped.

“As the head of the Chantry people's safety is my concern. Innocent people are at stake. The Inquisition blindly trusted her, you did not respond to the danger. The after effects of Anchor, it's effect on the Well of Sorrow must be properly examined, by magical experts. Putting her in a Circle isn't a whim. As an ex-templar, you know I am right. I ask you to respect over a thousand years of Circle, Seeker and templar knowledge.”

“Sarge!” Cullen calls his dog. “Thank you, your Worship. I must get back.”

Cullen steps past the Divine with purposeful strides. Dark thoughts tumbled around his mind. Familiar thoughts of a seasoned templar caught by surprise one too many times by possessed mages. Past trauma louder and more urgent than thoughts of the past three days.

But twenty minutes past since Cullen left her room. No one is present when he opens the door. He sounds the alarm and calls guards when he finds a one word message burned into the sheets: Circle. A message written with magic.

Anger heats as he wonders if he foolishly disregarded the signs the Divine points out.

Leliana enters the room followed by several guards. “Where's Evelyn?”

“The Divine took her. To the Circle. She's possessed.” Cullen responds numbly.

Leliana speaks to the guard. “Please find the Ambassador. Dear Maker, Cullen, she's not well enough to travel.”

“Templars snatch mages when its least expected.”

“Commander? What are you saying?”

Josephine enters the room. “Someone took the Inquisitor?”

“Templars took the Inquisitor.” Cullen says. ”To the Circle because she's possessed.”

“That’s ridiculous. She is not possessed.” Josephine says.

“What if she is possessed?” He responds.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Josephine looks to Leliana. “She isn’t? Right?”

“The Divine believes the Well of Sorrows possesses her.” Cullen continues.

“Commander, what is going on?” Leliana asks.

“The Divine has a legitimate concern. She'll be evaluated at the Circle.”

Leliana's eyes bore sharply into the Commander. “The Divine got to you, didn’t she? She manipulated you. When did she speak with you?”

“When I was walking Sarge in the garden.”

“That manipulating nug burger! As long as your templar paranoia is peaked, tell us, Commander, how did the templars get her out, including distracting you!”

Cullen clenches his fist to hold back a second wave of anger. “I was gone probably twenty minutes. The templars waited for me to leave. That's the head start they have. Kidnapping a mage involves planning, secrecy, surprise. Once the apostate is in hand it’s about getting distance from any person or family member who may object. They'll move her out of the Winter Palace quickly.”

Leliana is livid with herself for not taking Evelyn serious. “She was right, all this time. The Divine planned to put her in a Circle. But why? I'm missing something. Josephine, go to the Divine. Tell her... Tell her Solas wanted the Well of Sorrows, he took it when he took the the Anchor.”

“The Well of Sorrows is gone?”

“You don’t know that.” Cullen protests.

“I don’t, but Evelyn said it was the reason the Divine would make her Tranquil.”

“Where is the Divine sending her? The Spire, Val Royeaux?” Josephine asks. "We must send guards."

“You can’t pursue. Templars have a code. People may get killed.” Cullen says.

The Spymaster suddenly grasps the situation, an epiphany. “What a perfect set-up, Viv. The concealed reason for the Exalted Council. Truly she is master of the Game. This whole thing, as Evelyn pointed out, it's one more step in the Game. Sublime, elegant and set up before Vivianne joined the Inquisition. We haven't seen the end yet."

"The Divine needs the Well of Sorrows...?” Josephine asks.

“The Divine needs the Inquisition. Evelyn for the Inquisition. She won’t make Evelyn tranquil, not right away, not while the Inquisition is independent. It’s a bargaining chip.” Leliana turns to Josephine. “See if you can get confirmation where they went with her, Josie. Commander, hold on a moment.”

As the room cleared Leliana faced Cullen. “Don’t know what twisted garbage the Divine fed your ex-templar brain but snap out of it. The Divine found the Inquisition’s weak spot. She dug at your templar trauma and bought time to kidnap Evelyn. While you linger in your templar nightmare the less use you are to us. Oh, the Divine was clever to use you. Right now I just want to Double Dagger you.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing here.” Cullen said.

“Right. Because Tranquility is the answer to any and all templar’s concerns.”

"That's unfair."

"Exactly why I said it. How much more horror does she need Cullen?"

.

The templars stop at an inn outside a small village. Lowry sends two templars to procure accommodations for the night. Evelyn thinks this odd as templars moving a captured mage follow a prearrange itinerary. Nothing is left to chance. She also notes this isn't a most direct route to the Spire, they are traveling toward the mountains.

The templars returns with news. “We have accommodations.”

Lowry tosses a bag of coin to the templar. “Coin for service. Stable horses, our rooms, food and drink tonight and the morning, food for the road.”

“Yes, sur.” The templar returns to the inn.

“May I ask what’s going on?” Evelyn asks. "We left the Winter Palace traveling toward the coast. Since we've turned toward higher elevations.”

“This can wait.” Lowry carefully hands her down to a templar, cautioning him to handle her with care. “ Watch the arm. Hold onto her while I get down. I'll carry her inside.”

“I’ll walk.” So Evelyn thought but her legs prove too unsteady to stand.

Lowry jumps from his horse and slips his arm around her waist. Ellendra follows the two into the Inn.

Lowry guides Evelyn upstairs while barking orders to the templars to set up sleeping arrangements. Upstairs he places Evelyn on the edge of a bed so Ellendra may care for her. Without a word he leaves the two ladies.

“How are you?” Ellendra asks as she help Evelyn lay back.

“Tired. Very tired.”

“Pain?”

“Aches more than before. Could be the traveling. You can take care of that. Did you notice we don’t’ seem to be traveling toward Val Royeaux?”

“Thought something was off. Maybe they're worried we'll be followed. Lowry treating you right?”

“He’s…not the templar I remember. He's careful with me. This sounds very sympathetic but the Lord Seeker abandoned all the templars when he tore up the Nevarran Accord. Templars lost their controlled and ordered life. None of the templars signed up for what came after that. Just look at Cullen. Sometimes I think he barely survived.”

“You’ve gave him a new life.”

Lowry knocks on the door and enters. “Food is being prepared. We’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

Ellendra crosses her arms and stands defiant. “We’ll eat up here.”

“Fine. Whatever she needs.” He speaks directly to Ellendra.

“I am her healer and I don’t take orders from you. I'll let you know if we need anything.”

“Fine. Let me know.” Before he leaves he looks to Evelyn. "Rest."

.

Evelyn is asleep when Ellendra brings up a tray of food. "I’ve been watching the templars.”

“And...something's going on?”

“Something. Lowry’s been speaking with them. Some lively discussions back and forth. Seems they’ve come to a consensus. When I picked up our food he asked to speak with you.”

There is a knock on the door. Lowry is there as Ellendra opens the door. “Yes?”

Lowry seems apprehensive and troubled. “Need to speak with the Herald.”

“Fine.” Ellendra says.

“Just her.”

“Can’t agree to that.” Ellendra crosses her arms.

Lowry looks at her then to Evelyn sitting quietly in bed.

Lowry steps around Ellendra. In an unsure yet needy voice he says, “May I see the back? Please.”

Ellendra looks ready to loose control at the request. Evelyn gestures that it was okay, she would comply.

“Ellendra, help me.” Evelyn stands at the edge of the bed. Ellendra covers her while she slips the robe off her shoulders. The scars on the upper back are not new to Ellendra but not the whole back. She pushes down the robe. The scars go lower. She ends up dropping the robe on the floor revealing all the scars.

Lowry’s expression stiffens as he looks at scars five plus years after the fact. The scars move down all across the back, over her sides, and descend over her buttocks. The scars are white, a few pink, but those that cut deepest are still an angry red.

Ellendra boils. She's never seen worse. Evelyn was not meant to survive the whip. They held nothing back. They, or he, intended to kill her. She'd die a slow, bloody death. Evelyn owes her survival to the Spirit Healer. Who else could heal the damage to her back, injuries deep into the muscles, skin loss, decomposition, blood loss, infection. Her fists curl, she fights to contain a flow of mana that building magic demands. She promised not to harm him but it's hard.

Evelyn feels Ellendra’s building mana. Despite the offensive situation she gives Ellendra a look that says, “Let this be.”

Ellendra looks at the templar.

The templar's breath slows, hands shake. He feels the drop of every lash he struck upon Evelyn's back. All those years ago rage, anger and hate drove him, keep him from remembering.

“You meant to kill her.” Ellendra's voice is hard and accusing.

“I did. I know how to kill, I took it that far. When we came across the Inquisitor, Evelyn and her group, we had no lyrium for weeks. Lyrium Rage surged through me. It's not an excuse, I know that. The Lord Seeker sent us to chase and kill apostates with no support. No lyrium. Abandoned. Lucky templars died early during the mage-templar war. Those who made it back to Therinfal suffered from lyrium withdraws, months without lyrium. Not difficult to talk most into red lyrium, into becoming red templars. I fled. What happened at Therinal Redoubt is not why I became a templar.”

Ellendra watches the templar drop to his knees, his head and hands against the floor. She experiences an unexpected compassion. Is she feeling sorry for this monster? While the templar contemplates his sins, Ellendra covers Evelyn with the robe.

Lowry pulls back onto his knees but remains head down before her.

“Herald of Andraste. I seek forgiveness. Can a man of such sin find redemption in the Maker’s eye for what he’s done?”

“I cannot say I speak for the Maker." Evelyn says. "I cant' say why we came together all those years ago. If it now brings you to me I can only be glad of it. I see a templar who struck out in anger and now knows those reasons were wrong. I offer my forgiveness to a good man and I would know him better.”

Lowry stands up before her, his arm across his chest in a respectful salute.

“It is the Oath of the Templar to protect the vulnerable. We, all of the templars here, agree. We're taking you to Skyhold, to your Circle run by the College of Enchanters. When we get to Skyhold the templars under my command would speak to the templars to see if they would welcome us."

“They will welcome you. Knight-Commander Barris will see the good I see, and he will welcome you.”

“Thank you, Herald.”

“Please, Sur Lowry, call me Evelyn.”

He nods and backs out of the room.

"He'll never call me Evelyn." Evelyn says to Ellendra as she shakes her head. "Never."

Ellendra isn't sure what to say. “Who are you?”

Evelyn laughs nervously like someone who almost fell off a cliff. “A person with some very odd luck. That’s all.”

Ellendra smiles. “Now what?”

Evelyn pulls out the necklace she wares and opens it. Inside is a crystal. She mutters some magic words and the crystal glows.

A voice travels from the crystal, “Oh great Maker. Say it is you!”

“Dorian? Yes, it’s me. Who is with you?”

Dorian’s voice cracks with happiness. “Everyone! Thank goodness, I think they're planning an assault on the Circle. Shall I tell the Commander you are okay? Where are you?”

“Tell Cullen my Templar escort is taking me to Skyhold.”

There is a long silence.

“How is this possible? Did you happen to kill three dragons on the way?”

“Just two dragons.”

“Right. Like to chat more but some people are anxious to reach to Skyhold. Hugs and kisses, my dear.”

Chapter Text

Link to ending. Picks up after the end of Tresspasser.

Games and Consequences, a humous look and Cullen and Evelyn's future.
Games and Consequences