Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan had been in a trance for three days. It had gotten to the point that the other members of Clan Lavellan were growing restless, and began looking to Ellana, Deshanna’s granddaughter and First, to take the initiative in assuming leadership.

Ellana ran her fingertip over her precious copy of The Litany of Adralla. It had been seven years since the Knight-Captain of Kirkwall had given it to her. Or, to be more accurate, since he arranged for it to be stolen from his superior’s office and placed in her possession. She was no Andrastian, but she’d read it so many times that she was sure she could recite the whole of it from memory alone. With it, she had been able to keep Clan Lavellan completely free from demonic possession and mind control by blood mages. But if she were totally honest with herself, she would say that she read it because he gave it to her.

He never told her his name.

Sure, she hadn’t told him hers either, but the balance of power was in his favor. Besides, what did it matter? What future was there in Thedas for a Dalish mage and a Templar? Other than capture or death, that is. In the long run, this was the best thing for both of them. He had been wise to walk away. She only wished he hadn’t kissed her goodbye when he thought she was asleep. It had only implanted hope, a longing in her heart that she could not extinguish.

“Ships. Passing in the night,” Ellana whispered to herself. She was pretty sure that was the shemlen expression that applied here. Some things just aren’t meant to be. It was a young girl’s infatuation. Nothing more. She had gotten what she wanted, the position of First. And besides, after everything that happened in Kirkwall, he might not even still be alive.

So why did she feel restless and incomplete? Why, after all this time, could she not stop thinking about him?

Ellana heard her twin brother, and the Keeper’s Second, Evariel, approaching her tent. “Knock knock,” he said.

She hurriedly slipped the tome into her pack. “Who’s there?”

“She’s awake.”

Evariel would have usually gone ahead with a joke, but this was a serious matter. Ellana swallowed hard. There was no small amount of dread forming in her stomach. The Keeper may be awake, and she may yet live, but would she be well?

Ellana scrambled to her feet, slipped on her boots and scurried to her grandmother’s tent, whispering a prayer of thanks to her patron goddess, Mythal, as she did so. Evariel followed at her heels, as usual. He had become accustomed to the role of Second. It was a position both both safe and solid. When the twins burst into the Keeper’s tent, they were greeted by an equally lucid and troubled Deshanna.

“The Dread Wolf spoke to me,” she whispered. She would not have wanted anyone else from the Clan to hear her, as a vision of Fen’Harel was considered a bad omen by most Dalish. Deshanna was wise, however, and took all things as they came. “Something important, something terrible, and something wonderful is going to happen. It all has something to do with the Conclave the shemlen are holding in Haven, in the Frostback Mountains down in Ferelden.”

“What is this Conclave, Keeper?” asked Ellana.

Deshanna gestured for Evariel to come to her side and he helped her get to her feet. “It is a peace summit of sorts. It regards mainly the Rebel Mages and the Chantry. It seems that Divine Justinia seeks to soothe relations between the apostates and the Templars—”

Ellana’s ears pricked a little at the mention of the Templars. Like any Dalish mage, she feared most of them. One of the last pieces of advice her mother had dispensed to her before she disappeared was, “If you see a Templar, don’t fight them, don’t try to reason with them. Run.” But if there was a chance, even the slightest one, that she would see the Knight-Captain again...

“—before they end up killing all of Thedas in their crossfire. However, if my interpretation of my vision is correct, then there is even more at play here. While the politics of the shemlen rarely change anything for our people, the results of this Conclave will reverberate through time, for all people. Nothing will be the same again.”

“That sounds...rather dramatic,” said Evariel. “I want nothing to do with it.”

“Don’t worry, child. I’m not sending you. But you shall have new responsibilities. You shall be First in your sister’s stead during her—absence. ” Ellana was in shock. She had figured on the Keeper sending a hunter spy to observe the proceedings, and that the three of them would then meet to discuss strategy.

She did not expect to be chosen. But Keeper Deshanna extended her hand to her. “Come girl. Do you think I’d trust a hunter to something this important?” The Keeper pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “The Dread Wolf requires my very best. And Thedas deserves no less if it is to survive and change.”

Fen’Harel. The Dread Wolf. The Trickster. Most Dalish both feared and respected Him, but given their druthers would rather avoid His gaze completely. When He spoke, however, the People listened.

Ellana nodded, and wrapped her grandmother in a tight embrace. If nothing in Thedas was to be the same after the Conclave, she would not be either.

Chapter Text

The last thing she remembered was being chased by those giant spiders and the glowing woman taking her hand. Her story wasn't going to change no matter how many times the Seeker asked her, so why did she keep at it, depriving her of sleep and food, and shackling her like an animal?

At least there had been no beatings and no threats of being made Tranquil. Yet. Ellana sensed the dark haired woman's patience wearing thin, but she also got the feeling that the Seeker's passion was driven by more than just religious zealotry.

Divine Justinia was dead, and the only person left standing from the Conclave was a Dalish apostate. If Ellana had been in her place, if perhaps she had lost her Keeper and her Clan, finding only a glorified Templar alive amongst the dead, she'd have been suspicious too.

It was this empathy that kept her from striking the woman called Cassandra Pentaghast with a few choice lightning bolts. It informed the softness of her voice and the carefully chosen words that belied her naturally snarky wit.

That and the pain that emanated from the palm of her left hand was too excruciating to allow for snappy comebacks.

The Mark, as it was being called at the time, glowed a bright green, like a great light shining through a handful of peridots. Would it that she were that rich. Perhaps then she could have bribed her way out of prison.

Then again, based on the reactions from some of her jailers, it may have been safer inside her cell. She had rocks thrown at her, was spat on, and was called a monster at best, a filthy murderous knife-ear spy at worst. And that was by people who had a vested interest in keeping her alive, if only so they could ship her off to a quick trial and public execution in Val Royeaux.

The Seeker had finally given up for the day and had stormed off to Creators only knew where. Ellana’s weariness began to outweigh her pain, dread, and hopelessness. She soon fell asleep on her knees in the middle of her cell.

Chapter Text

Cassandra had gotten nowhere with her. Her grief at the loss of her mentor had clouded her judgment, made her relentless and, as Sister Leliana had informed him, merciless.

Damn it all, he didn't leave the Templars so he could be associated with the torture of mages. Again. He resolved to visit the prisoner after The Seeker was too exhausted to continue with the interrogation.

When Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition, arrived at the cells beneath Haven's Chantry, Leliana was waiting for him.

"Has the prisoner's story changed?" he asked the Inquisition's Spymaster.

"Not one word, Commander," she replied quietly. "But I'm afraid if this continues, she will break and simply tell Seeker Pentaghast what she thinks she wants to hear."

Cullen crossed his arms over his chest. "So? Why don't you intervene?"

Leliana sighed. "Cassandra would believe me to be compromised. I've made no secret about my fondness for elves and mages. The prisoner is both. You on the other hand...well, let's face it. No one would accuse you of being biased towards mages. That may work to your advantage...and hers."

He snorted. "You want me to confront Cassandra?"

The red haired spymaster cracked a small smile. "No. That...is for you to decide. I'm not going to let you look back on whatever decision you make here and tell yourself that you were just following orders. I think you've had enough of that for one lifetime."

Cullen sighed. "You may be right."

Sister Leliana left him alone with the guards and his thoughts. It didn't take long for his curiosity to get the better of him.

"Guard?"

Within moments, the thick wooden door creaked open. What Cullen saw there would change his whole world forever. He would not and could not be the same man afterwards.

There she knelt in the center of her cell, hooded head bowed from exhaustion. It was apparent from her clothes that she had been hoping to pass unnoticed while she attended the Conclave. A spy perhaps? Cullen turned to the guard behind him. “I’d like to see Seeker Cassandra’s report if you don’t mind. And leave the keys with me.”

The guard objected. “But Commander, we don’t know what—”

Cullen patted the hilt of his sword with a chuckle. “I think I can take care of myself, thank you.”

The guard left to retrieve the requested documents while Cullen slowly approached the prisoner. “Hello?” he asked, softly. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

No response. Was it a trick? A ruse? Cullen steeled himself for an attack, but before he could do anything more than unshackle her hands, the guard returned, papers in hand. “Commander, I have the report.”

Cullen reached behind him, not wanting to take his eyes off the prisoner, just in case. “Watch her for a moment, please.”

It looked like Cassandra had kept things relatively straightforward. He began to skim the essentials.

Name: Ellana of Clan Lavellan

The clan name sounded...familiar, like an echo across a great distance. But the Dalish clans were splintered all across Thedas and all the names were foreign to him, so he couldn’t place it even if he wanted to.

Race: Dalish Elf

Obviously.

Occupation: Keeper’s First

Well, good for her, he thought. His next thought, however, was Why would a Dalish Keeper want to have someone observe the Conclave? And why would she send her First? Cullen knew enough about the Dalish that the First was often the second most important person in a given clan. Why send someone the Keeper could not afford to lose? Why not send her Second?

Cullen worried his bottom lip between his teeth, deep in thought. He shrugged, and resolved to keep reading.

Country of Residence: The Free Marches

A tightness began to grow in his chest. Was it dread or anticipation? He wasn’t sure yet. If the clan name sounded familiar, and she resided near Kirkwall...ugh damn lyrium, he thought, why can’t I concentrate?

He’d given it up months ago, ever since the Seeker sought him out to command the Inquisition’s troops. After the death of Knight-Commander Meredith, he had taken her place, and was leading what was left of Kirkwall’s Templars in the wake of the fall of Kirkwall’s Circle and the birth of the Mage Rebellion.

Cullen was only too glad to walk away from that life. But the lyrium withdrawal was more difficult to handle than he had imagined and it made it difficult for him to concentrate or recall certain memories.

Notable Possessions on Person: 8 Healing Potions, Apprentice’s Lightning Staff, a copy of the Litany of Adralla…

The papers slipped from Cullen’s grasp and floated to the floor. Before they made it, he had rushed to the prisoner’s side and pulled back the hood of her robes.

White blond hair. Could it be?

Cullen took her right hand (so as to avoid setting off the Mark) and tapped gently on her wrist, whispering, “Lady Lavellan? Wake up!”

The elf moaned and squinted her eyes before finally opening them briefly. “Took so long to get to sleep. Why did you wake me?” she murmured deliriously.

Cullen lifted her chin and looked into her face, catching a glimpse of her eyes before she’d shut them again. Ellana seemed to curl into his arms almost instinctively and at least one part of him was only too happy to oblige her.

Violet eyes. Like sparkling amethysts. He gasped.

“Maker, no!” he whispered despite himself. Was this some sort of punishment for him arranging the theft of Chantry property or for leaving the Templars? He had tried so hard to forget her, and had mostly been successful. Yet here she was again, turning up like a bad copper at the worst possible time in the worst possible place in the worst possible way. Just his luck.

Varric was going to have a field day when he found out.

She had changed in the seven years since he’d seen her last. She’d received her vallaslin, an intricate design with a color that matched her eyes and, much to Cullen’s chagrin, accentuated her natural beauty rather than detracted from it. And Maker help him, she was beautiful. Any of the awkward coltishness of girlhood she’d exhibited before had been replaced by a radiant, blossoming womanhood. If his estimations were correct, she was twenty-five to his thirty, though he immediately questioned why his mind had gone in that direction.

Then Cullen remembered that there was still a guard in the room with him. And that he had apparently been calling him for some time. He snapped out of his stupor. “Yes?”

“Do you want to be alone with her, Ser?” asked the guard, clearing his throat.

Maker, YES. “I mean, no!” If he hadn’t been holding Ellana’s unconscious form, he might have smacked himself in the forehead over the implications of his clumsy response. “I want you to get a cot and some blankets. And—” he looked down at her face. “Some food. My dinner if there is none to spare. She’s going to need her strength, I think.”

“Ser!”

The guard seemed distracted by something.

Cullen turned to face him. “Now!”

Then the guard hurried off into the night. Cullen leaned in, pressed his forward to Ellana’s, and whispered, “Maker, why?”

He was going to have to ask that cranky elven hedge mage Solas to take a look at that Mark. Maybe he would know something about it.

Chapter Text

“Prisoner Lavellan!” a voice cut through Ellana’s deep sleep.

So, it wasn’t just some sort of nightmare. Damn.

“Lady Lavellan, please wake up quickly!” urged the gentle female voice. “I don’t think the Commander’s people can delay the Seeker for much longer.”

Ellana sat up abruptly. At first, she was shocked that she had been lying down at all, and comfortably at that. And she didn’t remember having her shackles removed. The only thing she did recall through the last night’s haze was someone patiently spoon-feeding her a hearty mutton stew. She could still taste it on her tongue. Finally, she looked at the person who’d been addressing her and saw a honey-haired dwarven girl with a warm smile and steel in her spine.

“The name’s Harding. Hold out your hands. I have to put the shackles back on you, I’m sorry. I’ll explain as soon as I can, I promise.”

Ellana obliged the girl while others folded up and absconded with the cot and blankets she’d spent the night in. Before Harding left her, she turned and said, “Try to look pathetic, like you actually spent the night kneeling on the cold stone floor. The Seeker is a lot of things, but cruel isn’t one of them. She’s got a good heart, she’s just...going through a hard time right now.”

Ellana smirked. “I know the feeling.”

Harding smiled and shut the door behind her. Less than two minutes later, Ellana heard the commanding tones of Cassandra Pentaghast.

Something was different about her today. She seemed softer, maybe a little remorseful. She strode up to Ellana and helped her to her feet. “Can you walk?” she asked.

Ellana nodded.

Cassandra shook her head. “I...regret that I got carried away yesterday. I—I have to show you something. Maybe then you will understand what I’m dealing with here.” The Seeker led the way outside.

She had expected the bitter cold, but not the sickly green storm above them.

“We call it The Breach,” Cassandra said solemnly, her back turned to her. “It’s a massive rift into the Fade that grows larger with each passing hour.” She turned to face her. “It is not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

Ellana was shocked. “An explosion...can do that?”

Cassandra nodded. “This one did.” She placed a hand on Ellana’s shoulder. “Unless we act, The Breach will grow until it swallows the world.”

Suddenly, the storm surged, like lightning striking. Ellana’s mark responded in kind. The pain was overwhelming and she fell to her knees, screaming. Cassandra knelt beside her. “Each time The Breach expands, your Mark spreads. And it is killing you.” The Seeker helped Ellana to her feet again. “It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

Ellana looked into Cassandra’s eyes and saw the conviction and sincerity within them. She bowed her head. “I understand,” she said.

“Then…” Cassandra began, a hopeful tone in her voice.

Ellana squared her shoulders and nodded. “I will do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Cassandra nodded in return and led Ellana through the Haven camp in the direction of the Breach. A crowd gathered, keeping a distance out of respect for the Seeker, but the hostility was palpable.

“They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our most holy Divine Justinia...” Cassandra explained as they kept walking, her voice breaking at the end. She composed herself and continued, “...head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between Mages and Templars. She brought their leaders together, now they are dead.”

They walked on to a bridge that led to a path to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Or at least to where it used to stand. “We lash out like the sky. We have to think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the Breach is sealed.”

The Seeker removed Ellana’s bonds. “There will be a trial. I can promise no more.”

That didn’t exactly fill Ellana with hope, but it was all she had.

“Come,” said Cassandra. “It is not far.”

“Are we going to the Breach now?” asked Ellana, with no small amount of apprehension.

“No,” replied Cassandra. “Your Mark must be tested on something smaller.”

They moved to cross the bridge that led to the Valley of Sacred Ashes, but a destructive bolt that originated from the Breach struck it. Down went Ellana and the Seeker, crashing into the snow below.

Soon enough, Cassandra was standing over Ellana, offering her a hand up. But just past the Seeker, Ellana saw a Rage Demon approaching and gasped. Cassandra drew her sword and interposed herself between Ellana and the demon. “Stay back!”
Ellana was unsure whether Cassandra was talking to her or the demon. All she knew was that the Seeker was about to be flanked by a shade. After a quick scan of the area, she saw an abandoned staff that must have also fallen after the bridge collapsed. Stepping on the bottom of it, she flipped the weapon into her hand and killed the shade before it could harm the Seeker.

Cassandra was...decidedly ungrateful for her help. She turned on Ellana, sword drawn. “Put the weapon down!” she commanded.

Ellana tilted her head, “I just saved your life, Seeker.” She dropped the staff with a shrug. “But have it your way. I don’t need a weapon.” And with that, Ellana formed a ball of lightning in her hand, let it hover just above her palm just long enough to make a point, and then hurled it past Cassandra’s head at an approaching wraith that was about to attack her from behind. “I could have chosen to hit you both, perhaps with a larger spell. I didn’t have to miss you.”

The Seeker smirked. “Fair enough,” she said, and kicked the staff back towards Ellana. “I can’t protect you from everything and we can’t afford to lose you.” She turned and started walking up the frozen river. “Besides, you have a point. You could have attacked me at any time, but you didn’t. I suppose you deserve some benefit of the doubt.”

Demons were pouring out of the rifts. Cassandra and Ellana battled their way up the river until they came upon an interesting sight: a bald elven mage and a beardless dwarf with a crossbow fighting side by side against a mass of wraiths and shades. Before them was a rift, sparkling and green. It would have been beautiful had it not been so terrible. The rift pulsed and Ellana yelped in pain again, but the elven male grabbed her by the wrist, pulled her to her feet, and held her hand up close to the rift, causing it to shut with great force.

“Remarkable,” murmured the elf. He bowed. It was a formality, not one borne of subservience, but of politeness. “Aneth ara, Da’len. I am Solas.” He looked at the staff in her hand. “It is good to see a fellow mage.”

Though his face was not lined with age, something about him seemed...older. Much older. “Andaran atish’an, Hahren,” Ellana replied, returning the bow, more deeply, recognizing the contrasts in their respective standing as it were.

Cassandra groaned. “Varric, what are you doing here?”

Varric pointedly ignored Cassandra at first, and held out his hand to Ellana. “Varric Tethras. Author, businessman, and raconteur at your service.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “But you know that already, don’t you?” He winked at her in a canny, but not suggestive way. Ellana shook his extended hand and smiled. "It is good to see you, Varric."

“You two know each other?” asked Cassandra.

“You could say that,” Varric replied. “We had business together in Kirkwall about seven years ago, with a Templar as her go-between if you can believe it.” He laughed. “I think he was a little besotted with you, Lady Lavellan.”

Ellana blushed as she remembered the feel of the Knight-Captain’s lips on hers, and how much she had wanted to kiss him back. Varric’s next question brought her out of her reverie. “How was the book?”

“Really? You’re going to ask about your books? Now? With demons all around us!” Cassandra was flabbergasted.

“Not my book, Seeker,” Varric said with a smirk. “The Litany of Adralla.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened with shock. “How did you know about that? Nobody knows that!” she exclaimed. “That’s top secret information, Varric.”

Varric began to head towards the next rift in the distance. “There’s at least one other member of your inner circle who knows the story of the Lady and the Litany.” The next sentence he said in a sing-song voice, “But I’ll never tell!”

“Ugh! So infuriating!” Cassandra grunted. "I wish you would just leave already."

“You need me, Seeker. And you can’t afford to turn away what few allies you have.” Varric called out.

As they walked, Solas explained what he had gleaned from his observation of the Mark on Ellana’s hand. “For what it’s worth, Lady Cassandra, I do not believe your...guest...is responsible for the opening of the Breach. She does, however, seem to have the ability to close rifts. If this power can be strengthened, she may be able to close the Breach as well.”

“Let us hope you are right, Solas,” replied Cassandra. “Come. The Forward Camp is not far.”

Chapter Text

When Ellana, Cassandra, Varric, and Solas arrived at the Forward Camp, they came upon Sister Leliana and and a rather officious but high ranking male member of the Chantry embroiled in a heated argument. Apparently, they’d been expected. Leliana seemed pleased, the man significantly less so. This put Ellana at somewhat of a disadvantage, but she hoped that maybe she could fade away into the background and let louder personalities prevail.

Leliana spoke first. “You made it! Chancellor Roderick, this is—”

“I know who she is,” the Chancellor sneered dismissively. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.”

Ellana shot a panicked look at Cassandra. She had promised her a trial! And who did this man think he was, anyway? From everything she knew about the Chantry, men held very little real power and here he was puffing himself up like a bird in season.

But Cassandra did not even see the fear on Ellana’s face. She was too busy being outraged. “Order me? You are a glorified clerk! A bureaucrat!”

“And you are a thug,” he answered derisively. “But a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry.”

Leliana intervened on Cassandra’s behalf. “We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know.”

“Justinia is dead!” Roderick objected. “We must elect a replacement and obey her orders on the matter!”

Ellana’s patience was at an end. “So I take it nobody is in charge then? Lovely!”

“I am the most high ranked member of the Chantry left. I am in charge!” exclaimed Roderick.

Cassandra snapped, “You weren’t even important enough to be invited to the Conclave. That is the only reason why you’re still alive.”

Ellana suppressed a guffaw. It came out as an amused snort instead.

Roderick sighed with exasperation. “Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.”

Cassandra was defiant. “We can stop this before its too late!’

“How?” Roderick asked, “You won’t survive long enough to reach the Temple, even with all your soldiers.”

“We must get to the Temple,” Cassandra replied. “It’s the quickest route!”

“But not the safest, “Sister Leliana observed. “Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”

“We lost contact with an entire squad on that path,” argued Cassandra. “It is too risky.”

“Listen to me,” interrupted the Chancellor. “Abandon this now before more lives are lost!”

The Breach stirred. Ellana’s Mark hurt less with each rift she closed and that time, it was only a minor twinge. Cassandra turned to her and asked her how she thought they should proceed.

Ellana rolled her eyes. “Oh for—now you’re asking me what I think? Are things really that desperate?”

“You are the one with the Mark,” observed Solas.

“And you are also the one we need to keep alive,” Cassandra added. “Since we cannot agree on our own—”

Ellana pondered her choices, then replied. “We take the Mountain Path. Let’s see if we can rescue those scouts. Enough people have died here already. And by the Earth and Sky, stop bickering! This is a matter of life and death, people.”

Varrick smiled and nodded in approval.

Cassandra shrugged, “It makes my job harder, but it is your choice.” Then she turned to Sister Leliana. “Bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone.”

“On your head be the consequences, Seeker,’ the Chancellor admonished.

“Mew mew mew mew mew mewmewmew mew-mew,” Ellana mocked. She could swear she heard a snort from Cassandra’s direction, but she couldn’t be sure, since the Seeker’s back was turned to her.

Up and up they went, After ascending two ladders, Cassandra called out, “The tunnel should be just ahead! The path to the temple lies just beyond it.”

Solas asked, “What manner of tunnel is it? A mine?”

Cassandra replied, “Yes, an old mining complex. These mountains are full of such paths.”

Varric asked, “And you’re sure your scouts are in there somewhere?”

“Along with whatever has detained them.’ added Solas.

“We shall see soon enough,” Cassandra answered.

Ellana had expected soot and grime upon entering the mining complex, but nothing could be further from reality. Though dark, they were very clean and more like buildings than mines. The only sign that the complex was not meant as a permanently habitable environment was the presence of black ice that spread haphazardly within.

Well, that and the wraiths. They did not make for a relaxing atmosphere either. Though their glow-in-the-dark quality did aid the companions in their successful navigation through the tunnels.

When they finally broke through into the sunlight again, the first sight that greeted them was that of about five or six dead scouts. “Ugh,” Varric sighed. “Guess we found the soldiers.”

“Damn,” murmured Ellana under her breath.

“That can’t be all of them,” exclaimed Cassandra.

Varric was hopeful. “So the others...could be holed up ahead?”

Solas interjected, “Our priority must be the Breach. Unless we seal it soon, no one is safe.”

Varric replied, “I’m leaving that to Lady Lavellan."

Ellana ran on ahead. Of course the Breach was important. But if she could save those remaining scouts, she would, and soon enough she came skidding to an abrupt halt as she discovered yet another rift. The demons pouring out were battling the remaining scouts, who would soon succumb to exhaustion if no one intervened. Without thinking, she forcefully extended her hand, and the tangled knot that was the rift before her began coming apart, as if she were unraveling it thread by thread. As the rift frayed, all the demons became stunned.

“That’s a neat trick,” Ellana murmured under her breath.

Cassandra called out, “You’re alive!” to the remaining scouts.

One of them sardonically replied, “Just barely.”

The newly arrived reinforcements and the remaining scouts were soon able to cut down the demons with ease and when the rift stilled, Ellana again drew its remaining energy into her Mark and slammed it closed.

The rescued scouts were then treated to the slightly unsettling image of the petite elven mage, glowing hand outstretched, with a pirate’s smile spread across her delicate features.

“Sealed, as before,” Solas declared with an approving nod. “You are becoming quite proficient at this!”

Varric added, “Let’s hope it works on the big one.”

The scouts were all too ready to credit the Seeker with saving their lives. “Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra. I don’t think we could have held out much longer.”

And then Cassandra did something that would perfectly encaspulate her in Ellana’s mind forever. “Thank the prisoner, Lieutenant. She insisted we come this way.” A shemlen in a position of power like Lady Pentaghast did not have to examine her mistakes or even admit to them. She certainly didn’t have to give credit to others when simply accepting praise would have made her look more the hero. But she was thoughtful, contemplative, and humble. In that moment, Ellana forgave her for the harshness of her tactics when interrogating her. Cassandra had taken no pleasure in it. She was not a cruel woman.

“The Prisoner?” asked the scout in surprise. “Then you—”

“It was worth saving you, if we could,” replied Ellana with a gracious bow.

The scout came forward and saluted her. “Then you have my sincere gratitude.”

Cassandra turned to the scouts. “The way into the valley is clear for the moment. Go. While you still can.”

As the scouts scampered off back towards the Forward Camp, Solas turned to Ellana. “The path ahead appears to be clear of demons as well.”

“Let’s hurry before that changes,” replied Cassandra.

There was one more ladder and staircase each to descend before they would find themselves in the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

“So, holes in the Fade don’t just accidentally happen, right?” asked Varric.

“If enough magic is brought to bear,” explained Solas, “it is possible.”

Varric sounded puzzled. “But there are easier ways to make things explode.”

“That,” Solas replied, “is true.”

“We will consider how this happened once the immediate danger is past,” declared Cassandra.

Ellana stopped when she reached a veritable crater laden with burnt corpses, some blackened bodies captured in mid-scream as if chiseled from obsidian, some still on fire, even days later.

“The Temple of Sacred Ashes,” Solas observed.

“What’s left of it, anyway,” added Varric.

“That,” Cassandra said quietly, “is where you walked out of the Fade, and our soldiers found you.” The Seeker looked Ellana straight in the eye. “They say they saw a woman behind you. No one knows who she was.”

Finally they reached the center of where the Temple once stood. There was a rift there, but that was merely the eye of the storm that was the Breach directly above it.

“The Breach sure is a long way up,” said Varric.

Ellana stared at the vastness of it. How in the name of the Creators would she get up there? Would they shoot her in a trebuchet? This was a question that needed answering.

But it would have to wait as Sister Leliana and a small coterie of her personal guard rounded the corner. “You’re here? Thank the Maker.”

Cassandra turned around. “Leliana, have your men take up positions around the Temple.”

Leliana nodded silently and left to fulfill the Seeker’s order. As Ellana stared at the rift, Cassandra passed in front of her. “This is your chance to end this,” she said. “Are you ready?”

Did it matter if she was? “I’ll try,” she answered. “But I don’t know if I can reach that rift, much less close it.”

“No,” Solas said firmly. “This rift was the first, and it is the key.” He turned to her. “Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.”

“Then let’s find a way down,” replied Cassandra. “And be careful.”

Ellana smirked to herself and leapt down. It wasn’t a significant drop, and the only thing she had to worry about was whether or not she landed on a corpse and inadvertently crunched its bones under her fall. Let everyone else figure out an organized path; she wanted to get this over with.

She was greeted by a booming voice that shook her ribcage. “NOW IS THE HOUR OF OUR VICTORY.”

The Mark throbbed and Ellana stopped in her tracks, wondering if the sound had been in her head, a side-effect, as it were.

“BRING FORTH THE SACRIFICE.”

The voice of an Orlesian woman rung out, “Someone! Help me!”

And Ellana heard her own voice follow. “What’s going on here?”

Cassandra’s eyes widened. “That was your voice!” She spoke haltingly. “Most Holy called out to you, but—”

Sounds were soon accompanied by vision, showing Divine Justinia, suspended in midair, arms outstretched, and Ellana rushing to her side, only to be told by her, “Run while you can! Warn them!”

The booming voice was only represented by a pair of glowing red eyes. “WE HAVE AN INTRUDER. SLAY THE ELF.”

When the vision was over, Cassandra was noticeably upset. “You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she—was this vision true? What are we seeing?”

Ellana rubbed her forehead. “I don’t remember!”

“Echoes of what happened here,” said Solas. “The Fade bleeds into this place.” He turned to Cassandra. “This rift is not sealed, but it is closed, albeit temporarily.” Then he turned to Ellana. “I believe that with the Mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely.” Finally he addressed the entire group. “However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.

“That means demons!” Cassandra shouted to Leliana’s troops. “Stand ready!” Then she turned to Ellana and gave her a silent nod.

Ellana stretched out her hand and opened up the rift. The first thing that came out was a Pride demon.

“Wonderful,” Ellana grumbled under her breath.

At the Seeker’s command, the archers on what remained of the walls opened fire. Not that it mattered, as its armor was impenetrable. Luckily Cassandra remembered something she’d seen Ellana do earlier. “Disrupt the rift!”

It worked. Everyone began attacking the Pride demon when it became vulnerable. This went rather well, at least until more demons came pouring out of the rift.

“You must be joking!” Ellana shouted. She bore down and began to cast lightning spells as fast as she could form them, only relying on her staff when she needed to replenish her energy. One by one, the demons fell. She needed to disrupt the rift twice more before they could finally destroy the Pride demon.

It was the moment of truth. Time to seal the rift. Ellana reached out...

Chapter Text

When Ellana came to, she was tucked into a warm bed in a cozy little cabin. A voice nearby shrieked and various sundry things the owner of the voice had been carrying came crashing to the ground.

“My lady!” whimpered an elven girl who was barely more than a child. She fell to her knees and touched her forehead to the ground. “You’re awake!”

Ellana was puzzled. “Are you all right?”

The servant remained in place. “I am not worthy to be noticed by you, my lady! You...saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the Mark on your hand!"

Ellana chuckled nervously as she swung her feet out of bed and onto the floor. “I don’t bite. What’s your name?”

“It’s all anyone has talked about for the last three days!” exclaimed the servant, pointedly ignoring Ellana's question.

Three days? Ellana was reeling. “Wait. They’re...happy with me?”

“The Breach is still in the sky, but yes,” the servant answered. “People are coming from all around just to catch a glimpse of you, my lady! But Lady Cassandra said that when you awoke for her to be informed right away,” the servant said, scrambling to her feet.

“Wait, what?” asked Ellana.

“Right away, she said!” squeaked the servant, who rushed out the door and slammed it shut.

Ellana raised an eyebrow. “Creators. Am I dead?” Shrugging to herself, she decided to investigate her surroundings, since she no longer appeared to be under key and guard. After she slipped on her boots, which sat neatly next to her bed, she got up and opened the door, only to be greeted by the most pleasantly unnerving sight of her life thus far:

About half the inhabitants of Haven were gathered in the street outside her door, murmuring in awe. Many of them were bowing, others simply called out, “That's her! The Herald of Andraste!”

Ellana looked behind her to see this Herald, only to see the door. Me? she thought incredulously, but I’m Dalish! And a Mage! What is going on here?

She shook her head. Cassandra would likely explain things, and she was likely in the Chantry. And so she ran, the people’s words echoing in her ears:

“That’s her! She stopped the Breach from growing!”

“Why did Lady Cassandra have her in chains? I thought Seekers knew everything!”

“Chancellor Roderick says that the Chantry wants nothing to do with us.”

“That isn’t Chancellor Roderick’s decision.”

She could hear Cassandra and Roderick arguing from outside the Chantry door. Ellana steeled herself and stepped inside. The voices were coming from deeper within the building. Ellana followed her ears.

“Have you gone completely mad?” Ah, Roderick. How she did not miss him. At all. “She should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whomever becomes Divine!”

Ellana opened the door. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something? Because I can come back—”

“Chain her!” Roderick demanded of the guards within the room. “I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial.”

“Disregard that,” Cassandra bellowed. “And leave us.”

The guards left. Roderick narrowed his eyes at Cassandra. “You walk a dangerous line, Seeker.”

“The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat,” Cassandra said. “I will not ignore it.”

“So, I’m still a suspect even after what we just did?” Ellana asked.

“You absolutely are,” growled the Chancellor.

“No. She is not,” countered The Seeker.

Ellana quirked her head in Cassandra’s direction, shocked at this vote of confidence. A lot must have happened in the three days she’d been unconscious. She’d have to ask someone about that. Maybe Varric…

“Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave,” declared Sister Leliana. “Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others—or perhaps they have allies who yet live.”

Roderick was outraged. “I am a suspect?”

“You, and many others,” retorted Sister Leliana.

“But not her,” objected the Chancellor.

“I heard the voices in the Temple,” asserted Cassandra. “The Divine called to her for help!”

“So her survival, that thing on her hand—all a coincidence?” Roderick asked.

“Providence,” answered The Seeker. “The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour.”

Ellana raised her eyebrow. “Why would your Maker send a Dalish apostate to be your savior?”

Cassandra replied, “I may be wrong, but I cannot deny that you are exactly what we needed when we needed it.”

“The Breach remains,” added Sister Leliana, “and your mark is still our only hope of closing it.”

“This is not for you to decide!” Chancellor Roderick angrily objected.

And that was the historic moment when The Seeker slammed the book on the table. “You know what this is, Chancellor?” she asked. “A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn!” She walked towards Roderick, who seemed to shrink in her wake. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order, with or without your approval!”

Roderick could say no more. He retreats! Likely to tattle on the Seeker to the Chantry in Val Royeaux so they could all clutch their scented handkerchiefs in shock or whatever it was they did there. Shemlen.

Sister Leliana looked at Ellana, decided she needed further edification, and explained, “This is the Divine’s directive: Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who would stand against the chaos. We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support!”

Seeker Cassandra countered, “But we have no choice. We must act now,” she turned to Ellana, “with you at our side.”

So this was what the Keeper had foreseen: something that could reshape the very face of Thedas itself, and she, a Dalish elf, and an apostate mage at that, was being asked to join it. When would another elf get a chance like this again, she wondered. And she could not deny that she too wanted to end the senseless bloodshed between the Mages and Templars.

Ellana smiled. “How could I refuse?”

Cassandra extended her hand to her and they shook on it.

Chapter Text

Cassandra met Ellana at the entrance of the Chantry. “They’re waiting for you,” she said.

“They who? Is there someone other than you and Leliana in charge of this thing?” Ellana asked.

The Seeker smirked. “I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘in charge’, but yes, there are others, and there will be introductions all around.”

Ellana paused, her stomach twisting into knots. “Cassandra, what if they don’t like me?”

She had half expected a brusque dismissal from the Seeker, but instead, Cassandra’s face softened. “Of course they’ll like you. If they don’t...they’ll have to answer to me.” Then she smiled and patted Ellana on the back before asking, “Your mark...does it bother you?”

Ellana smiled sadly. “It didn’t close the Breach, and when I tried I spent the next three days unconscious.” She was worried that her next attempt might kill her.

“What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach,” Cassandra said reassuringly. “You’ve given us time, and Solas believes that a second attempt might succeed—provided the mark has more power; the same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by.”

“Powering up a rift destabilizing mark? What could possibly go wrong?” Ellana asked with a smirk.

Cassandra chuckled. “Hold on to that sense of humor.” And with that, the Seeker opened up the door to the War Room.

Ellana was still smiling at her own joke when she walked into the War Room after Cassandra and then froze in place, transfixed.

“May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces.” Cassandra’s voice seemed to be coming from a long ways away. Ellana had locked her violet eyes on Cullen’s gold ones and Cullen suddenly forgot what he was going to say.

She spoke first. “We’ve...met. If I’m not mistaken. But I never got your name.”

“Nor I yours,” Cullen replied. “It’s—you’re—how have you been?” He cleared his throat as all the women in the room turned to stare at him. They’d never seen the Commander so flustered.

“Good,” she exhaled, and her face relaxed into a bright smile that about took Cullen’s breath away. “Thank you,” she added, twisting her hands nervously. “For the book, that is. It saved my people. I owe you so—”

Cullen did not want to have this reunion in front of all these people. Especially these people. He cleared his throat emphatically and looked over towards Josephine, who was anxiously awaiting her introduction.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Ellana blushed and looked crestfallen. Cullen looked at the table to avoid having to see the disappointed look on her face.

Cassandra cleared her throat with an amused expression and continued, “This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat.”

“Andaran atish’an,” Josephine said with a respectful nod of her head.

“You speak elven!” Ellana looked so excited. Cullen couldn’t blame her. She only had Solas to converse with in her native language otherwise, and he...did not seem a lively conversationalist.

Josephine giggled. “You just heard the entirety of it, I’m afraid.”

“And of course, you know Sister Leliana,” Cassandra continued.

“My position here involves a degree of—” Leliana started.

The Seeker interrupted. “She is our spymaster.”

Cullen snickered under his breath. Cassandra had no sense of tact and as long as he wasn’t her current target, it was hilarious. Leliana shot him a chastising look and he pretended to be serious. It almost worked until he caught Ellana’s gaze, her eyes dancing with amusement. He covered his mouth in an effort to control his mirth and she snorted. Leliana rolled her eyes.

“Tactfully put, Cassandra,” the Spymaster said with a glare first at Cullen and then at the Seeker.

“Well, that’s an impressive list of titles there!” Ellana said cheerfully. “I only hope I can measure up.” She took a deep breath. “Here it goes. I am Ellana, Stormbringer of Clan Lavellan. First to Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan. And...apparently the Herald of Andraste. Whatever that means.”

Cullen smiled. “I think you’ve measured up plenty.”

Ellana blushed. She blushed!

Cassandra spoke, trying to steer the meeting back towards the Business at Hand. “I mentioned that your mark requires more power to close the Breach for good.” Cullen found himself wondering exactly how much longer this meeting was going to be. He had to speak to her.

“Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help,” added Sister Leliana.

Wait, what? “I disagree,” Cullen declared, “The Templars could serve just as well.”

Cassandra sighed and rolled her eyes. “We need power, Commander, enough power poured into that Mark—”

“Could destroy us all!” he exclaimed. “Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it, so—”

“Pure speculation,” said Leliana dismissively.

“I was a Templar,” Cullen answered in exasperation. “I know what they’re capable of.”

Silence fell over the group. This division amongst the leaders was awkward to say the least. For the record, Ellana agreed with Cassandra and Leliana, but she didn’t like their dismissiveness towards Cullen. When the time came for her to tell him her plan, she would try to explain her reasons gently and with respect. She hoped.

Josephine intervened. “Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet.” She looked pointedly at Ellana. “The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition—and you, specifically.”

“Well, that was quick,” Ellana quipped.

“They are scared. Some are calling you—a Dalish apostate—The Herald of Andraste.” Josephine turned to address the rest of the group. “The remaining clerics have called it blasphemy, and we, heretics for harboring you.”

“Chancellor Roderick’s doing, no doubt,” grumbled Cassandra.

Though she was not Andrastian, Ellana got the sense that this was a serious matter. She held her tongue.

“It limits our options,” declared Josephine. “Approaching the Mages or Templars for help is currently out of the question.

“How am I the Herald of Andraste?” Ellana asked.

“People saw what you did at the Temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing,” answered Cassandra. “They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste.”

“Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading—” Leliana began.

“Which we have not,” Cassandra added.

Leliana glared at the Seeker again and continued. “The point is, everyone is talking about you.”

Cullen smiled at Ellana and she felt her insides melt. “It’s quite the title, isn’t it? How do you feel about that?”

Ellana drew a deep breath and gave him her honest answer. “It’s...a little unsettling.”

Cullen laughed. “I’m sure the Chantry would agree.”

Leliana spoke up. “People are desperate for a sign of hope. For some, you’re that sign.”

“And to others,” Josephine added, “a symbol of everything that’s gone wrong.”

Ellana looked down. If she hadn’t been who she was, or what she was...if she was somehow more acceptable; a human, an Andrastian, Cullen and the others wouldn’t be in danger. “So if I wasn’t with the Inquisition…”

Cullen seemed to sense her worry. “It’s not your fault,” he said softly. “They would have censured us no matter what.”

Cassandra turned to her. “And you not being here isn’t an option.”

Leliana brightened. “There is something you can do! A chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable.”

Ellana raised an eyebrow at the Spymaster. “Why would someone from the Chantry help a declared heretic?”

“I understand she’s a reasonable sort,” replied Leliana. “Perhaps she does not agree with her sisters? You will find Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe.”

Ellana shrugged. “I guess I’ll head out first thing in the morning.”

But first…

After the meeting was dismissed, Ellana immediately sought out Commander Cullen. Part of her felt self conscious at being so shameless, but the Creators had given her another chance to get to know him. She wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass her by. She found him training his troops just outside the gates of Haven.

“You there! There’s a shield in your hand, block with it! If this man were your opponent, you’d be dead.” He turned to his Lieutenant. “Don’t hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practice one.”

“Yes, Commander!”

Ellana approached from the side, her hands shaking a little from nervousness. “Commander? Do you...have some time for a little chat? I—I can see that you’re busy and I promise not to take up too much of your—”

Cullen took her delicate hands in both of his. Maker, was he shaking? “I will always make time for you, Ellana. What’s on your mind?”

She gave him a shy smile. “I wanted to thank you for the book. That—that’s not why you’re an ex-Templar now, is it? Please tell me you didn’t get into trouble because of me!”

“No, I left the Templars only recently,” he answered. “Although if I were to be honest, I would say that you did play a small part in my decision to leave the Order.”

“I did?” she asked.

“You left...quite the impression on me,” he answered, smiling despite himself. “You forced me to start re-evaluating the way I viewed mages.” He blushed and looked away towards the mountains. “You and Lady Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall.”

“Lady Marian Hawke?” asked Ellana, a little starstruck. “Were you two…”

“No! We were just friends. Fenris would have likely torn my heart out of my chest otherwise,” Cullen said. “She was an apostate mage, like yourself. She...sought me out, challenged me on everything I thought I knew about mages. It turned out she didn’t need a glorified babysitter breathing down her neck to keep her from becoming an abomination. I realized that she was likely not alone, that we’d been treating the mages unfairly, especially in Kirkwall. And that Meredith had to be stopped.”

“So what happened?” Ellana asked.

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Cullen smiled sardonically at her. “Well, let me sum it up for you. Meredith went mad and attacked Hawke and the Circle Mages, the Templars loyal to me defended them, she turned into a statue, the First Enchanter turned into an abomination, lots of people died and the Chantry was blown up by an apostate. Oh, and after Meredith died, I got her job, which wasn't as great as it sounds. Does that...suffice?”

Ellana tilted her head. “Almost.” It wasn't until she gently extricated her hands from Cullen's that he realized he'd been holding them the whole time. She reached up, and with one slender finger traced the scar on his upper lip. He shut his eyes and found himself shuddering with delight at her touch. “Where did that come from?” she asked in an innocent tone of voice.

“One of the templars on Meredith’s side tried to strike down a mage,” Cullen replied. “I...got in the way.”

“So you’re a hero,” she said breathlessly. For a moment, Cullen was able to see himself reflected in her eyes. It was...humbling.

“I guess so,” Cullen whispered. “Does the scar...bother you?”

Ellana smiled and shook her head. “I think you look even more handsome than you did before, if that’s possible.” She blushed profusely and looked away, but found, much to her chagrin, that her feet were rooted to the ground.

Cullen took a deep breath and decided that the best course of action was to change the subject. He looked over at the soldiers he had been training and cleared his throat. “We’ve...received a number of recruits—locals from Haven and some pilgrims.” He smiled at Ellana. “None made quite the entrance you did.”

Ellana smiled back. “At least I got everyone’s attention.”

“That you did,” Cullen concurred. Ughhhhh. He had done this. He had steered the conversation back towards her. But he just couldn’t help himself. The feelings that coursed through him when she was around was somewhat akin to when he slipped into the nearby hot springs to bathe; warm, comforted, delicious, like a new man. Why was he fighting it? “I...was recruited to the Inquisition in Kirkwall, myself.” He made as if he had to inspect the troops for the upteenth time. Move, yes. If you walk, you can get your blood moving in the right direction again. “As I said earlier, I was there during the Mage Uprising—I saw firsthand the devastation it caused.”

Cullen’s personal assistant, Lieutenant Shapeley gave chase. “Ser!”

“Cassandra sought a solution.” Shapeley shoved some papers for him to sign under his nose. Whatever, I’m sure it’s fine, Cullen thought. He signed without even reading it and turned his attention back to Ellana. “When she offered me a position, I left the Templars to join her cause.” He stopped and faced her. “Now it seems we face something far worse.”

Left the Templars? One does not just leave the Templars. Later. She would ask him about it later. Ellana smirked. “The Conclave destroyed, the Divine dead, a giant hole in the sky. It looks like we have our work cut out for us.”

“It is why we’re needed,” Cullen replied. “The Chantry lost control of both Templars and Mages. Now 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 we could—” suddenly embarrassed at his intensity, Cullen became apologetic. “Forgive me,” he said, shaking his head. “I doubt you came here for a lecture.”

“I like your enthusiasm,” Ellana said with a giggle. “Do you have one prepared? I’d be happy to be your captive audience.”

She winked at him. Did she just wink at me? She did! Maker, what do I—Cullen laughed. “Another time, perhaps,” he said with a smile.

She smiled back at him, and it was like watching the sun rise over the mountains, the pinks, violets, and golds hitting the snow just so, like the peaks were encrusted with millions of precious gems. And he’d give them all to her. He wanted to say it. But he didn’t want to scare her off. Instead, he stumbled over his words awkwardly. “I...uh…” He cleared his throat nervously. “There’s still a lot of work ahead.” Work. Yes. Keep busy. This can wait till later.

As if the Maker Himself agreed, Lieutenant Shapeley returned to him. “Commander! Ser Rylen has a report on our supply lines!”

Oh, how exciting. Still, it was just the distraction he needed: a legitimate reason to push her away. Still he couldn’t help smiling at her as he rolled his eyes and said, “As I was saying…”

Ellana watched him walk away, her heart racing in her chest. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe she would see him again, and here he was, working alongside her for Creators knew how long. It had taken all her will not to rush to his side, to wrap him in her arms and correct the mistake she’d made not kissing him back seven years ago. But what if she had just been a passing infatuation for him? Here he was, older, more accomplished, even better looking than she'd remembered. Shemlen women were probably throwing themselves at him. She looked down at her plain beige leather clothes. How could she compete in this?

“Cullen,” she murmured to herself, savoring the taste of his name on her tongue. She liked it. It suited him. She turned away, and headed out to explore the rest of Haven, reciting his name over and over like a prayer.

Cullen turned and watched her walk away. Maker, she is almost as enticing from behind as she is facing me. “Ellana,” he whispered. “El-la-na,” he repeated, like a chant, his tongue snapping in his mouth sharply with each syllable, and, much to his shame, making him think of all the things he wanted to do to her with it. Blushing furiously, he turned back to his soldiers and got back to work.

Chapter Text

Cullen looked over the new recruits. Ellana had been busy in the week she'd been gone, and she had clearly made a glowing impression on all of them. He heard them in the barracks, whispering of her in rapt tones, about how the Herald of Andraste herself had gone out of her way to personally save a sick mother, avenge a grieving widow, and provide food and blankets for refugees. She has a gift. Perhaps she has been sent by the Maker after all. It made him feel selfish to want her all to himself.

"You've assigned a special guard rotation a quarter of a mile outside the gates," said Sister Leliana.

Cullen jumped. He hated it when the Spymaster sneaked up behind him like that, and that fact clearly amused her. "Yes, well, I think it's only logical to want to have someone meet the Herald and the Seeker when they arrive, to see to their needs."

"Ah, and if the Herald were to travel without the Seeker?" Cullen couldn't see her face, but he could hear the playful tone in her voice. She was teasing him.

Cullen blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Is there a point to this line of questioning, Sister?"

"No, except to tell you that I intercepted the message your people sent your way." Sister Leliana turned and called over her shoulder. "She should be arriving right about...now!"

"I hate you," Cullen grumbled. But he was smiling. For there she was, walking up the hill towards the gates followed closely behind by Cassandra, Solas, and Varric. Her eyes met his and as a slow smile spread across her face his heart leapt in his chest. But she stopped suddenly, and stood about ten feet away from him.

She called out, “It’s good to see you!”

He called back, “Likewise! Why don’t you come closer so we don’t have to shout at each other?”

Ellana shook her head rapidly. “I—I can’t.”

“Are you going to give me a wide berth all day, then?’ Cullen asked with a chuckle. “Come on, tell me what this is all about.”

“You’ll laugh!” Ellana responded.

“No, I promise I won’t!” Cullen insisted.

“Does Josephine have a bathtub in her personal quarters?” asked Ellana.

Cullen’s eyes widened. “I...wouldn’t know what her amenities entail.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Why?”

Ellana sighed laboriously. “She asked me before I left if there was anything she could do for me and I said that I wanted a bathtub. She hesitated before saying she couldn’t help me. I was thinking that—”

“She was hiding something?” Cullen finished for her.

Ellana nodded. “I—this is so embarrassing…”

“Ellana,” Cullen said, just loud enough for her to hear, “You can tell me anything.”

She visibly relaxed. “I...haven’t bathed since I left and I—” she gestured to the icy river nearby. “—almost froze to death the last time I tried.”

“Oh,” Cullen said. This was going to be a difficult decision. When he’d first arrived at Haven, he’d explored the surrounding area outside the Chantry and found a hot springs nearby that no one else, as of yet, had discovered. It was his little secret, the reason why he’d been able to keep his hair straight and why he smelled better than anyone else other than perhaps Leliana and Josephine. For the record, he was pretty sure Josephine did have a bathtub in her room and that she allowed Leliana to use it. He looked down at Ellana, who was clearly miserable and uncomfortable. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share the springs with her, or even that he didn’t trust her not to tell anyone else about it.

He was worried about what would happen if they ended up there at the same time together. Alone.

“Cullen?”

How would it happen? Would she discover me? Would she linger in the woods watching me for a while before stripping off her clothes and slipping into the water behind me? Could I resist her if she clung to me, her skin slick and warm, and begged me to make love to her? Maker—

“Cullen?”

Or if I stumbled upon her? Would she be ashamed or inviting? Would I run or would I join her? Would I make her mine in the spring or would I carry her out and ravish her in the snow? He suspected that while the snow seemed romantic and impulsive, that it was less comfortable than desired. Then again—

“CULLEN!”

“Sorry!” Cullen blushed profusely. “Um...I know a place. But we should probably coordinate things so as to avoid any awkward situations. Come, I’ll show you.”

Chapter Text

She’d introduced him as her new personal bodyguard.

Cullen looked over at the huge, one-eyed Qunari who called himself The Iron Bull. He was gamely answering Ellana’s many questions as she buzzed around him like a honeybee, excitedly showing him where the Blacksmith and the Apothecary was. Who knows, perhaps if she works her considerable charms she might be able to get the recipe for blackpowder out of him. He grunted. He would much rather leave that job for Josephine.

The intelligence The Iron Bull had provided from the Ben-Hassrath had already proven to be helpful. The contract he’d made for his Chargers with Josephine had been fair.

So why was he uneasy when he saw them together?

Lieutenant Shapeley shook him out of his self pity. “Commander? Have you seen the Herald? A package arrived for her.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “Why are you telling me about this? It’s her package, so it’s her business.”

“Because,” Lieutenant Shapeley whispered, “it’s from Par Vollen.”

“Par Vollen?” Cullen asked, more than a little surprised that the Herald would be receiving correspondence from the Qunari homeland. “Are you sure it’s not addressed to The Iron Bull, in care of The Herald?”

“See for yourself, Ser.”

Cullen nodded at Shapeley, indicating that he was dismissed, then examined the package carefully. Sure enough, it was addressed to Ellana. By name, no less. Is it explosives? He brought the package to his nose and inhaled. Sweet.

“Good morning, Commander!” It's her! Instinctively, Cullen hid the box of probably-not-explosives behind his back. “What do you have there?” she asked.

“Where?” asked Cullen. Oh, I am terrible at this.

“Behind your back,” Ellana answered, making as if to walk behind him. Cullen began to turn in place.

“I have something behind my back? Really?” he asked, trying not to laugh as he rather desperately tried to keep up his charade.

Ellana stopped. There was something about her smile that made his belly tighten with anticipation. She leaned in, wrapped her arms around his waist, and— “Hey!”—nicked the package right out of his hands.

“Ooh, they were fast!” Ellana exclaimed. “Bull sent the request back when I met him on the Storm Coast and they somehow managed to get it here within a week. Extraordinary!”

Cullen snatched it back. “I’m confiscating it. For now. It’s from a hostile foreign power and we don’t know if it’s safe—”

Ellana pouted. “Are you joking?”

“No, Ellana,” Cullen replied, becoming serious. “If anything were to happen to you—”

“Yes, yes. I know.” Ellana said, rolling her eyes. “The Breach would swallow the world. Believe me, I have not forgotten the only reason why everyone keeps me around.”

“It’s not just that—” Cullen began, but the rest of the words got caught in his throat.

“You know what?” Ellana said, “Take it. Do what you want with it.” And with that, she ran off towards the Chantry.

Cullen stood there feeling horrible for a few minutes, until Varric approached him. “So...did you and the Lady have a spat?”

Cullen snapped, “What, no clever nickname for her yet?”

Varric chuckled, “It’s a work in progress, Curly. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“No. Yes. I guess so?” Cullen answered, running a gloved hand through his hair. “I’m just trying to protect her. If anything happened to her…” he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck miserably. “it would kill me.”

Varric let that sink in for a while. There was no taking something like that back once it was out there. “Does she know that?” he asked quietly.

“Is it not obvious?” Cullen asked incredulously.

“That’s a ‘no’ then,” replied Varric.

Cullen looked at Varric. “Don’t you dare tell her.”

Varric held up his hands. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about anything from me.” He frowned for a moment. “Sit down.”

“Here?” Cullen asked.

“In the nearest chair, Curly,” answered Varric.

Cullen shrugged, but obliged him, taking a seat outside the tavern. Varric immediately poked him in the chest.

“Ow!” exclaimed Varric.

“I’ve got armor on, you know,” remarked Cullen.

“So I gathered,” replied Varric, with a groan. “Look, Curly. You don’t have to worry about her hearing anything from me. Do you know why?”

“...Why?” asked Cullen warily.

“Because she begged me to tell her who you were seven years ago back in Kirkwall! I didn’t say a thing. Even after she left for her Clan, she wrote letters to me, hoping I’d change my mind. No dice.” Varric raised an eyebrow at Cullen. “Open the package, Curly.”

“What?” Cullen asked.

“Open the package. You owe her that much. If it makes you feel better, you can do it outside the gates so you ‘don’t put anyone in danger’,” Varric answered with a sigh as he began to walk away.

“Don’t you want to know what’s inside?” asked Cullen.

“No,” answered Varric. “Because I trust her. And because it’s not my personal business.”

Cullen waited until he was out of Varric’s eyeline before he walked outside of Haven’s gates and opened the box.

There was another box inside, with a note on top of it. It read:

“Herald of Andraste,
Here are the chocolates you requested. Enjoy them with your Commander.
Men tend to prefer the toffee-filled ones. Try those first, as Fereldans are notoriously squeamish about foreign sweets. Save the chili-powder truffles for last.
Gatt”

Cullen’s heart sank. He took off towards the Chantry, the package firmly in his grasp. When he burst through the door, Sister Leliana was standing there, arms crossed over her chest. Behind her was Mother Giselle, giving him that look that Reverend Mothers give you when you’ve sinned.

“Commander, do you really think I would let someone assassinate Ellana?” She raised her eyebrow at him. “Nothing gets into this settlement without me knowing about it. Nothing.”

“Save the lecture, Leliana. I already got the third degree from Varric,” Cullen replied, rankling. He attempted to move past her, but she was quicker than he was, and pushed him back into the door.

“Be gentle with her, Cullen,” she said softly, like silk hiding steel. “The Dalish are...a proud people.”

Cullen nodded silently and Leliana pointed to the room where Ellana had holed herself up in. He knocked on the door.

No response. He very carefully opened the door a crack. Ellana was prone on the bed that sat in the center of the room. She was crying softly.

Cullen thought his heart was going to stop. A younger version of himself would have run from this. But he was no longer a Templar. He would not let the fact that they were so different stop them from coming together. Not on his end. He tentatively walked into the room, but the sound of his armor gave him away.

Ellana gasped. “Cullen?” Hurriedly, she wiped away the tears that lingered on her cheeks, looked at him, and frowned. “What do you want?” she asked.

Cullen placed the box next to Ellana on the bed and knelt down before her. “Only your forgiveness.”

Ellana snorted. “As the ‘Herald of Andraste’?”

Cullen took her hands in his. “No. As Ellana of Clan Lavellan.”

“Oh, Cullen,” Ellana sighed and stroked his hair. “As if I could stay angry with you.”

He looked up at her and smiled.

She was a fool for that smile. He could have asked her to do anything at that moment and she would have obliged him.

“Isn’t there something you wanted to share with me?” he asked.

CREATORS, YES.

He was talking about the chocolates, of course. “Yes,” she answered, and she reached for the box, but Cullen stopped her.

“Ellana, I still feel terrible. If there is anything I could do to make things up to you—”

Without thinking, Ellana said, “Take your armor off.”

Cullen blushed. “All of it?”

Ellana smirked. “I know you have to be wearing something under all that metal, so don’t be such a prude.’ She stuck out her tongue at him and he laughed despite himself. Her expression softened. “I want to be...close to you, Cullen.” She smiled mischievously. “And I don’t want you trying to get out of trying this stuff.”

Cullen shrugged off his cloak and blinked.

Ellana rolled her eyes. “Cullen, I don’t bite.”

“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s just that...this could take a while.”

“Oh for—”

Five minutes later…

Cullen settled in next to Ellana on the bed. “Whose room is this?”

Ellana shrugged.

“I don’t care either,” Cullen said.

Ellana opened the box and hunted through the rows of confections, looking for the toffee-flavored one.

Cullen grimaced. “They look like balls of mud. Or—”

“Or what?” Ellana asked.

“Shit,” Cullen said very quietly. Ellana laughed and punched him in the shoulder. “You see? This is why I wear armor all the time! To protect myself from you and Leliana!”

“Cassandra doesn’t hit you?” Ellana asked.

“Cassandra doesn’t bother with body shots. She just smacks me on the back of the head,” Cullen replied with a laugh. While he was busy laughing, Ellana slid her slender fingers between his lips and deposited a chocolate on his tongue. Curious about these little confections that Ellana had thought so important, he bit down and let the dark sweetness permeate his mouth.“Mmmaker! This is amazing! You eat one!”

It was torture. Wonderful, blissful torture. “You know,” she said, “we never really talked about your having been a templar.”

Cullen tensed slightly, but Ellana reached up and gently tugged at his hair in a teasing way. Teasing or no, it felt...good, and it helped him to relax. “Don’t worry, Cullen. I’m not afraid. I’m just looking for information. Remember, I’m not a Circle Mage, so I’m coming at this from a place of total ignorance.”

The questions were rather harmless, of the 'when did you begin your Templar training' and 'what were your duties' variety. The more Cullen shared, the more he relaxed, and the closer Ellana got.

It wasn’t until she playfully slipped in a question about whether or not he’d taken a vow of celibacy that he realized she was sitting between his legs, he was holding her from behind, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He gasped. “Physical...temptations?" Cullen cleared his throat. "Why would you—" He took a deep breath and tried to quell his excitement, lest Ellana feel him hardening behind her. "That's—not expected. Templars can marry, although there are rules around it, and the Order must grant permission." He paused thoughtfully. "Some may choose to give up more to prove their devotion, but it's, um...not required."

Ellana tilted her head back, resting the top of it against Cullen's chest and looked up at his face. Her voice was sultry and warm. "Have you?"

"Me? I...um...no! I've taken no such vows." he answered, wriggling uncomfortably in place. "Maker's Breath! Can we speak of something else?"

Ellana grinned to herself as she fed Cullen another chocolate and returned to the innocuous questions; 'where are you from' and 'what was it like living in Ferelden during the Blight'. He was surprisingly reticent about his time at Ferelden's Circle Tower, though he had been perfectly fine speaking of his time in Kirkwall.

Considering the horrors wrought at the beginning of the Mage Rebellion, this meant that whatever Cullen had gone through at Kinloch Hold...well, it must have been bad. "Cullen?"

"Hmm?"

"It's alright. I—don't take it personally if you don't want to talk about it. I...just want you to know that no matter what happened..."

Cullen sighed. "Thank you, Ellana."

Chapter Text

Finally!

It had been two weeks. Two long weeks.

Not that Cullen had been unable to make good use of the time. Recruits were continuing to pour in every day. Haven was beginning to burst at the seams with the bounty Ellana had provided though all the requisitions she continued to fill on the regular, so there were plenty of tasks for him to delegate.

But none of that mattered much to Cullen at that moment. He was just too happy to see her to care.

But just then, Lieutenant Shapeley appeared at his side.

"Ser, you'd better come quickly. There's a fight breaking out in front of the Chantry!" He frowned. Their reunion would have to wait.

Cullen had seen her. She was sure of it. But why the sour expression? She'd had so much to tell him! All the fade rifts she'd closed, the apostate mages and Red Templars she'd defeated to make the Crossroads safe, the cult in the mountains she'd turned to their cause and the Grey Warden she'd recruited; now it would have to wait.

If he wanted to hear from her at all.

Ellana visited Seggrit to sell some of her excess goods and the Blacksmith's to make some alterations to Varric's crossbow, Bianca. As she finished up, she heard a commotion nearby, and she headed off to see what all the fuss was all about.

A crowd of Mages and Templars was gathered in front of the Chantry.

"Your kind killed the Most Holy!" yelled a Templar.

"Lies! Your kind let her die!" a Mage shouted back.

"Shut your mouth, Mage!" the Templar screamed, and he reached for his sword.

Cullen interposed himself between them. “Enough!”

“Knight-Captain!” the Templar exclaimed.

“That is NOT my title!” Cullen growled. “We are not Templars any longer. We are all part of the Inquisition!”

Watching Cullen take charge and assert his dominance over his men sent the oddest charge through Ellana’s body. She wanted to take him behind the Chantry, remove all that armor, and do...things to him. What, exactly, she didn’t quite know. She had mostly kept to herself in her Clan and was rather inexperienced in the ways of...whatever it was her body was telling her to do with the Commander.

Perhaps I should do some research on the subject, so I will have a road map of sorts, should the situation arise and present itself.

She was sure there would be kissing involved, though. Lots of kissing.

The moment was ruined by Chancellor Roderick, who strolled up to Cullen and stirred up more trouble in front of the crowd. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

“Back already, Chancellor?” Cullen shook his head. “Haven’t you done enough?”

“I’m curious, Commander,” Roderick replied. “as to how your Inquisition and it’s ‘Herald’ will restore order as you’ve promised.”

Cullen narrowed his eyes and sneered. “Of course you are.” He addressed the crowd. “Back to your duties, all of you!”

The crowd dispersed and Ellana tentatively approached the Commander and the Chancellor. Cullen looked over at her and explained, “Mages and Templars were already at war. Now they’re blaming each other for the Divine’s death.”

“Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order!” exclaimed Roderick.

“Who? You?” Cullen asked with a smirk. “Random clerics who weren’t important enough to be at the Conclave?”

“The rebel Inquisition and its so-called ‘Herald of Andraste’? I think not,” countered the Chancellor.

Ellana could feel Cullen bristle every time the Chancellor referred to her in a disparaging way. It made her feel safe, safe enough to make light of things, anyway. “Oh, I don’t know, the Inquisition feels about as functional as any young family.”

“How many families are on the verge of splitting into open warfare with themselves?” Roderick asked dismissively.

“Yes,” Cullen snapped. “Because that would never happen to the Chantry.”

“Centuries of tradition will guide us,” the chancellor sniffed. “We are not the upstart, eager to upset every apple cart.”

Ellana groaned and asked Cullen, “Remind me again, why we are allowing this man to darken our doorstep?”

“Clearly your Templar knows where to draw the line,” replied Roderick.

Cullen narrowed his eyes. “He’s toothless. There’s no point turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth.” He turned to Ellana and his expression softened. “The Chancellor’s a good indication of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however.”

Am I being sent away again so quickly? I just got back! “The Mages and Templars are fighting even though we don’t really know what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?” she asked, trying to focus on work.

“Exactly why this should be left up to a new Divine. If you are innocent, the Chantry will establish it as so,” answered Roderick.

Cullen stepped in front of Ellana defensively. “Or will be happy to use someone as a scapegoat!”

“You think nobody cares about the truth?” Roderick asked. “We all grieve Justinia’s loss!”

Cullen lowered his voice to a growl and slid his arm out in front of Ellana. “But you won’t grieve if the Herald of Andraste is conveniently swept under a carpet.”

Ellana blushed at Cullen’s protectiveness towards her. She tried to tell herself that he was just doing his job, defending her like that, but something in his carriage and demeanor gave her reason to doubt. She decided to rescue the situation with humor. “Well, let’s hope we find solutions, not a cathedral full of chancellors.”

“The stuff of nightmares!” Ellana could hear the smirk in Cullen’s voice.

“Mock if you will, I’m sure the Maker is less amused,” Roderick said before turning on his heel and stomping off angrily.

Cullen turned around and made a mimicking face at Ellana. She burst into hysterical laughter and grasped his arm for support. He put an arm around her shoulders to bolster her, and they leaned in towards each other, both of them laughing. When they stopped, they were still in each other’s arms. Ellana’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Cullen? Since I have you here…”

“Yes?” Cullen asked. He was so close she could feel his breath.

“I wanted to tell you—” Ellana began.

“About your most recent adventures?” Cullen asked. “It’s been two whole weeks! I’m sure a lot has happened.”

Ellana nodded slowly. She had just worked up the nerve to drag him behind the Chantry, but clearly the moment was over.

“Excellent!” Cullen said with a smile. “Meet me back here in an hour? We can have lunch together, if you like, and we can...catch up.”

Chapter Text

She'd only been back a day before she set back out again, this time for Val Royeaux. Cullen sat in front of the War Table, trying to find something, anything to keep his mind occupied, even though the rest of Haven was fast asleep. He got up and paced the room. He sat down and fiddled with the map markers, tracing Ellana's work in the Hinterlands and the Storm Coast. He got up and looked for a book on the Elven language. A Elven to Common dictionary? Good enough, he thought, and opened it up to a random page.

"Emma" (possessive pronoun): My

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Why had he agreed to this? The clerics in Val Royeaux had been clamoring for her death since the tragic events that enfolded at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and yet Cassandra, Josephine, and Leliana all agreed that Ellana had to go bow and scrape to the Chantry in an effort to curry favor with them.

A Dalish apostate was being sent to broker an alliance with the Chantry. What could possibly go wrong? He opened the book.

"Nehn" (noun): Joy

Everything, of course. They could take her by force, and no matter how fast Leliana's people got word back to me, there was no way I could raise an army large enough, fast enough, to save her. Why were they wasting time playing nice with people who wanted nothing to do with them except to hurt her? A powerful army, one worthy of the Herald of Andraste, could simply intimidate everyone into compliance, or at least civility.

The likely presence of the Templars in the Capitol did little to ease his mind. Cullen had spent the last hour re-reading the correspondence that Ellana had recovered from the Red Templars in the Hinterlands. He could only imagine how frightening it must have been for her, as a Mage, to see so much hatred and vitriol directed at her and those like her. It made his blood run cold, and he prayed that it was just the work of extremists. More than anything, Cullen hoped that there was something redeemable left in the organization he'd given so much of his life to, that Ellana would be able to trust them, but, most of all, he worried about how their behavior would reflect on him and that he would become less in her eyes because of it. He opened the book again.

"Vhenan" (noun): Heart

He hadn't had nearly enough time with her in the brief moments she'd spent in her most recent return to Haven. And she'd seemed distracted, her eyes often flitting towards the Chantry, before she'd meet his gaze again, blush, and stumble over her words as they continued their, he thought, rather innocent conversation.

What if they put her on trial? Would they torture her to elicit a confession?

Cullen pulled off his gloves, shrugged off his heavy cloak, and gazed over at where she would have been standing were she there. Tentatively, he reached out, shifting his wrist and fingers as if he were smoothing her hair back, as if he could tenderly stroke the tip of her ear, as if he were to caress her full lips with his thumb. "Stay safe," he whispered. "I miss you."

He collapsed into his chair, and as he gazed at the crackling flames in the fireplace, drifted off to sleep.

~~~

She'd disappeared. That's all he'd been able to find out. Cassandra and Varric had been taken captive, and since Leliana had gone ahead three days ago, he'd heard nothing. Cullen knew that Alistair was already on his way with the King’s Army, what with Arl Teagan being his uncle (sort of) and all.

But he couldn't wait for Alistair to lay siege to the castle and possibly kill everyone inside. And a siege against a fortress like Redcliffe Castle would take too long. That's why he'd taken The Iron Bull and his Chargers with him. Perhaps a guerrilla-style attack would take them by surprise, whereas a larger force might be sitting ducks for the occupying forces to pick off.

~~~

He had been so close.

They had made it as far as the main hall when what trace amounts of lyrium left in his bloodstream screamed to him of dark magic. This was no ordinary occupation. And the paranoid ferocity of their counterattack confirmed his fears. They didn't know where she was either, and they would do anything to find out where she'd gone.

~~~

They'd murdered the Chargers one by one in front of Bull in their insane drive to find out where she'd gone. Bull went mad from grief and was too much of a liability to keep alive.

Cullen could hear Leliana screaming in the next room. But she would not break. And neither would he.

Ellana needed him to be strong, wherever she was.

~~~

They'd discovered a use for Leliana. She was being kept alive, but just barely. He'd heard that Cassandra and Varric had both exhibited resistance to the Red Lyrium, but since they knew she'd come for them if she were to ever reappear, they were needed alive. To trap her.

Cullen had taken a sort of dark satisfaction in the role fate had dealt him. He was the one they brought in to scare the shit out of the other prisoners. "This," they'd say, shining a bright light on his broken, disfigured form, "is what happens to those who resist." Continuing to defy them proved his devotion to her. He'd stopped praying to the Maker months ago. Now he just chanted her name over and over and over till he fell into whatever it was that passed for sleep...

~~~

The Red Lyrium tore through his flesh.

She will come.

She will hold him one last time.

And she will grant him the merciful death these bastards had denied him for almost a year now.

She will come for him.

Ellana...Ellana...Ellana...please.

I miss you so.

~~~

Cullen startled awake. It was almost always nightmares, ever since the "Incident at Kinloch Hold" as the Templars referred to it in their official records. It suddenly occurred to him that he couldn't remember the last time he'd dreamt of Neria. Not that this was much of a comfort to him.

Not since he had someone else to watch over.

He opened the book again.

"Lath" (noun): Love

He snorted. "Trying to tell me something, Maker?"

He rose and walked back to his room, taking the book with him.

Chapter Text

"You're the Herald of Andraste?" the woman known as Vivienne, the Madame de Fer asked.

"Is it the ears?" Ellana asked, hearing the disbelief in the woman's voice. "It's the ears, isn't it?" She'd had a rather bad day, what with the Chantry attempting to take her prisoner, the Templars rebelling against the Chantry in the most ugly and unpleasant way possible, arrows narrowly missing her head, and Cassandra abandoning her usual unflappable attitude in favor of an almost flailing confusion in the wake of the Lord Seeker's uncharacteristically “arsehole” behavior.

Vivienne took a deep breath. "You know, my dear, a dry wit is appreciated by many. But it is not always the most appropriate course of action. Sometimes the best thing is a glass of wine and blessed silence." She nodded her head at a servant who had apparently been lingering just out of Ellana's sight line, and took two glasses of sparkling white wine from her. "Thank you, Shaila. I'll not be needing you to wait on me for the rest of the evening. Please see to it that my bags are packed, as I'm leaving for Ferelden straightaway.”

"Oui, Madame!" Shaila exclaimed, and scurried off.

Vivienne handed Ellana a glass of wine and looked her over. "I ask not because I don't believe it possible for an elf to be chosen by the Maker. I ask because you do not project the authority of one chosen by the Maker." She pulled Ellana to the nearest full-length mirror, which wasn't as far as one would think; there were many such mirrors in the Ghislain Estate. "Do you see, my dear? The way you carry yourself? Something must be done about it."

Ellana took a sip of her wine and coughed a little. "How—ahem—should I carry myself?"

"Like a Queen, darling. As long as the role of Empress is taken, anyway." Vivienne laughed a little at her own joke. "How soon do you need to return to Haven?"

Ellana thought about Cullen and bit her lip, torn. "I—I don't know. I should...um...brief my Commander on what happened in—"

Vivienne raised an eyebrow. “Ah, yes. Your Commander." She gave special emphasis to the word 'your'. "Handsome young Fereldan? Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall? I see your dilemma." The last sentence was dragged very out slowly, as if she were already thinking of something else. “No, my dear. You simply must stay, for at least a day or two.”

“But what about Cassandra, and Varric, and Solas?” asked Ellana, sipping her wine.

Vivienne blinked. “Darling, I may be fabulous, but I’m just one woman. I think Solas is quite beyond hope. Varric can stay because he amuses me. Cassandra...such lovely bone structure, pity about the scars...maybe I can do something with her hair if she’ll let me.”

Less than one hour later...

Ellana was standing stark naked in a room with Vivienne, her personal tailor, and five of her servants. “Hold still, my dear,” ordered Vivienne, “so the nice man can take your measurements.”

“Why isn’t Cassandra standing here naked?” asked Ellana.

“Cassandra isn’t getting fitted for a corset, darling. Sssh!” admonished Vivienne. “Drink more wine.”

One more hour later…

“I can’t breathe!” grunted Ellana.

“Of course you can, darling!” exclaimed Vivienne. “Because you’re talking. Now, watch me walk.”

Ellana observed the other woman closely, how her hips seemed to lift up, one after the other, and her legs crossed in front of her, in tandem. It was...mesmerizing.

“Now you do it,” Vivienne directed.

Thirty minutes later…

“You’re still slouching, darling! It may be an elven thing, but that doesn’t mean you have to do it. You are more than just an elf! You. Are. The Herald. Shoulders back!” Vivienne poked Ellana in the shoulder with her staff. “Now, do it again. And this time, think of your Commander. I want to see it in your eyes.”

Another thirty minutes later…

“I think you’ve got it,” said Vivienne in an approving tone of voice. “Now—”

“Madame de Fer?” asked Ellana.

“Yes, my dear?”

“May I sit down now?” asked Ellana.

“Of course, darling! I have some designs to go over with you before the tailor takes your measurements back to the dress shoppe,” Vivienne replied. She snapped her fingers and another servant appeared, bearing a large book filled with color illustrations. Vivienne bade Ellana to take a seat next to her on the chaise and together, they began to flip through the pages. “You don’t have to pick exactly what you see. The beauty of having a personal tailor is that you can make your own designs.”

Ellana’s eyes widened as she looked at all the beautiful clothes. “I—I don’t know where to start!”

Vivienne took Ellana by the hand. “I can show you the way, but you must have your own style, my dear. Thedas does not need a second rate Madame de Fer. It needs a first rate Herald of Andraste.”

One hour later...

Vivienne was astounded. “The twists and turns your mind takes my dear! An interesting blend of Orlesian high fashion and Dalish traditional Keeper robes. The bare thighs are very risque, but for those such as yours, darling, you may as well show them off. My favorite one, though, might be the one with the red feathered high collar. Gold satin bodice, wine red cloak...I can’t wait to see you in it! Wherever did you get such an idea?”

Ellana smiled. “You’ll see.”

Vivienne smiled and raised her glass. “And so I shall, darling. A vote santé!”

The Herald and Madame de Fer then toasted their new partnership.

Chapter Text

At the end of his life, Cullen Rutherford would recall five separate instances in which he saw Ellana of Clan Lavellan for the first time.

The first time, well, was the first time. The eyes like sparkling amethysts that caught him completely off guard. Not easy to forget.

The second time she was on her knees in a dank prison cell, accused of murdering the Divine Justinia. Even trussed up in nondescript mercenary clothes, to him, she shone like starlight.

This was the third time.

Solas had arrived first, wearing a bemused expression. He went out of his way to assure Cullen that “the Herald was all right” and “was detained on serious Inquisition business.” But he was smirking.

It was...unsettling.

About a day or so later, Cassandra and Varric arrived with a younger elven girl in tow. Cullen thought he noticed that Cassandra’s hair was a little different, but he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t want to risk a blow to the head if he was wrong, so he kept his mouth shut. Varric spent a lot of time just after his arrival examining his hands appreciatively, his fingernails in particular. Sera, the young elven rogue, who had clearly never had any work done on her in her life, moved into Haven’s tavern.

Random things started to go missing soon after.

That night, under the full moon, Ellana returned by coach with Vivienne, Enchanter to the Orlesian Court. Vivienne’s servants followed after with her numerous personal effects.

Cullen would remember that he had been eating dinner at the time.

Shepherd’s pie.

Glass of red wine.

The same color as her dress.

Of course it wasn’t a dress, but it was a dress all the same by the way she wore it.

He had rushed out to see her, just in time to watch her step out of the carriage, one heeled boot at a time, her outer cloak riding up just so he could catch a glimpse of the creamy skin of her bare thigh glowing in the moonlight.

His mouth literally watered as he thought of flipping Ellana onto her back and biting those thighs until she squealed, but all he could do at that moment was moan deep in his throat.

When she finally came fully into view...it was all Cullen could do to remember to breathe.

Of course, he recognized the similarity in their clothing. Gold and wine red. High collar. Lion motif. But she had taken what could have been slavish replication or broad parody and instead made something unspeakably feminine and sexy.

Maker, how he wanted her. And that was before he noticed the way she was walking towards him, like the undulating flame of candlelight.

Alistair had once written to him about his wife Elissa, saying that she made him feel like his head was going to explode. Finally, finally, he understood what he had been talking about.

Ellana stopped in front of Cullen, and he watched her lips part enticingly as she spoke his name.

“Cullen?” she asked.

“This is your Commander, I take it?” asked Vivienne. “Well. Mission accomplished, my dear.” Madame de Fer swept past with servants scurrying behind her with her trunks.

“Cullen?” Ellana asked again, worry starting to creep into her voice. She sighed. “It’s my hair, isn’t it? It’s just...too short to do anything with and I didn’t want to wear a henin. Ugh. I look like a boy in a dress. Well, go ahead and laugh. Then we can both laugh and—”

Cullen still could not speak, so he pressed his fingertip against Ellana’s mouth to still her lips. She was talking nonsense and it was hurting his head. He again opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he blinked, bowed, and walked to the Chantry, hoping the brief stroll through the cool night air would get things functioning again so that he could actually participate in the War Room discussion.

Ellana was not sure that this was what she wanted, Cullen so dumbstruck that he was...struck dumb. Though she had enjoyed herself at the Ghislain Estate, she had missed their little chats, which were becoming less and less frequent as more and more responsibilities were heaped on both of them. It was in this mood of frustration and confusion that she entered the War Room to meet with the others.

Josephine and Leliana had already received detailed reports from Leliana’s agents that had been stationed throughout Val Royeaux documenting the treachery of the Chantry and the odd, violent hostility of the Templars. Ellana had had a lot of time to think on the matter, not that she needed it, and she informed the others of her decision to hear out the Rebel Mages in Redcliffe. As usual, Josephine and Leliana were enthusiastically supportive of the idea of bringing more mages into the fold, while Cassandra was more cautious. What Ellana had not been prepared for was the vehemence of Cullen’s contentiousness on the matter.

Perhaps if Cullen had explained to her about what had happened to him, she would have understood. But he just...couldn’t bear the thought of it. She would not and could not ever understand. Being a Dalish apostate, she may not have even been able to fathom what it had been like. So, as before in Kinloch Hold, Cullen wished that people would just trust his experience on the matter, but he could already feel that he was fighting a losing battle. What if there are abominations? I cannot lose her like I lost Neria.

“Do you really think that the mages are more united?” Cullen asked. It was a reasonable question, if you heard only the words. But the tone and delivery were...all wrong. And he was shaking.

There was something strange going on within him. Ellana watched his body language shift dramatically. Where he had once been confident and assured, he had become tense, worried, tightly coiled.

It frightened her. Not for her sake, but for his.

“I could at least find out what the mages want,” Ellana protested.

That’s how it always starts. That’s how they get you. He was so disturbed by the idea of Ellana going to the mages that he stormed back to his tent after the meeting, without so much as a word or a glance in her direction.

Chapter Text

She’d awoken at the crack of dawn to try to catch Cullen before she had to leave, but he had somehow eluded her. He's doing it on purpose. It was mean, it hurt, it made her want to cry, and she couldn’t cry, couldn’t indulge her pain because there was important work to do. She had to meet Fiona, leader of the Rebel Mages, in Redcliffe Village, and that meant leaving without saying goodbye to him.

So be it, she thought, as she left with Solas, Cassandra, and Varric. She hoped he was pleased with himself, in the way that people feeling sorry for themselves hope someone who has wounded them are happy, which is to say, not at all.

Cullen stood on a nearby hill, and watched her leave. Go talk to her! What if something happens to her? You’ll never forgive yourself.

But he was still too sore, too ill, and too proud to go after her.“She made her bed,” he grumbled. “And now she has to sleep in it.”

He made himself walk away, with each step feeling like he was treading barefoot on broken glass.

On a normal day, Varric and Ellana would play “I Spy” to annoy Cassandra. It was all in good fun, as Ellana was actually quite fond of the Seeker at that point, so when she continued to march ahead in stony silence despite numerous proddings from Varric, Cassandra actually participated just to break the awkward quietude.

Solas for his part, walked beside Ellana and told her how proud he was of her, that she was willing to parlay with Fiona. “The decision must have been difficult,” he said, “knowing how much the Commander was opposed to the idea.” Then he dropped his voice to a whisper, adding, “And how much you care for him.”

“He doesn’t understand!” answered Ellana. “He could never understand what it’s like to be an apostate, always looking over your shoulder. But how could he think that I would ever go to the Templars, especially after how they behaved in Val Royeaux?”

“I suspect, Da’len,” replied Solas, “that your rejection of the Templars feels like a rejection of him.”

“But that’s absurd!” Ellana protested. “He left the Templars.”

Solas shook his head. “Part of the Commander will always be a Templar. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be.”

After a few hours of hiking through the Frostback mountains, they arrived in Redcliffe. To say that the situation was bad was an understatement.

First off, there was a Tevinter Magister by the name of Gareon Alexius in charge of Redcliffe. Literally. He had driven Arl Teagan out and had indentured the Rebel Mages into his service.

Secondly, THERE WAS A TEVINTER MAGISTER WHO HAD HOSTILELY TAKEN OVER AND WAS OCCUPYING REDCLIFFE, AN ARLING OF FERELDEN.

Foreign occupation.

Act of War and whatnot.

Also, Fiona had absolutely no recollection of meeting Ellana in Val Royeaux, and not in the “I’m just telling you I haven’t seen you before in my life because I’m afraid of the Magister holding my leash” sort of way. No, this was a complete loss of memory. Something awful was going on, that is, beyond the FOREIGN OCCUPATION OF REDCLIFFE BY TEVINTER.

Ellana hoped that the large lettering in her report that she planned to send back with Scout Harding properly conveyed the seriousness of the situation to the War Council, and to Cullen in particular. He had to see the urgency of the matter, had to see reason. This aggression could not stand.

It only got worse after she met Alexius, who veritably oozed menace as they attempted to negotiate a “loan” of the mages in order to close the Breach in Haven. For her part, Ellana did little to help matters. Feeling reckless, she got into a game of ‘who can intimidate who’ that caused the arbitration to break down into a stalemate. It appeared that she would have to leave Redcliffe empty handed.

But she didn’t. Not quite, anyway. First, Alexius’ son Felix slipped a note to her whilst pretending to faint, its contents encouraging her to meet him in the Redcliffe Chantry and informing her that she was in danger.

“Grave danger?” asked Cassandra as they got up to leave.

“Is there any other kind?” asked Varric.

Secondly, there was Alexius’ reaction to his son’s collapse. Full of worry, love, concern. It was the only sign of a soul she saw him display during their meeting. I could use that to my advantage.

Ellana was stopped at the door by a Tranquil named Clemence, who was about as frightened as a person who’d had their emotions forcibly removed could be. He’d said other Tranquil had started disappearing since the Tevinters showed up and that he wanted to work for the Inquisition in exchange for asylum. When Ellana sent her note off with Scout Harding, she sent him along with her as well. He could be in no more capable hands.

Just before she exited the Inn for the Chantry, she noticed a book sitting on a table near the stairs that led to the lodging rooms. It had a sword surrounded by flames pointing upward on the cover. “Cassandra,” Ellana asked, “What is that symbol? It looks...familiar.”

“That’s the symbol of the Templar Order,” answered the Seeker.

Ellana then looked the caption below the symbol. It read:

A Report on the Incident at Kinloch Hold by Knight-Commander Greagoir

Not stopping to think about why such a thing would be just lying around where she could easily happen upon it, she slipped the book into her backpack to read later.

Ellana had taken the book in good faith. Despite what Cullen thought, she truly wanted to understand where he was coming from and why he was so afraid of the mages. But if he wasn’t going to talk about it, she reasoned, this was the only way she’d find out.

When they arrived at the Chantry, there was a lone mage there, holding off a group of—

“Demons!” shouted Cassandra. “How did a rift open in here?!”

“Good! You’re finally here.” the lone mage observed drolly. “Help me close this thing, would you?”

Ellana couldn’t help smiling as she joined forces with the good-humored stranger. The rift was...unlike any other she’d seen before. It seemed to warp time itself. But despite it’s unusual qualities, they adjusted to them and made rather quick work of it.

After she closed the rift, the lone mage looked at Ellana curiously, her Mark in particular. “Fascinating! How does that work, exactly?”

When Ellana found herself without an answer for him, he laughed. “You don’t even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers and boom! Rift closes.”

She liked him. He reminded her of her brother. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Ah. Getting ahead of myself again, I see,” said the mage. After giving a polite bow, he continued. “Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?”

It was the nicest introduction she’d had to anyone she’d met thus far. Her companions weren’t quite as charmed as she was, though.

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. “Be cautious. This mage is from Tevinter.”

She should have hated him outright, then and there, on general principle. According to recorded history, Tevinter destroyed Arlathan, ending her people’s immortality, and pressing them into slavery. But after the months she’d spent with the Inquisition, Ellana felt that she knew people, and she sensed instinctively that just beneath the jocular wit Dorian wore on the surface there lay goodness, warmth and a kind heart.

“Suspicious friends you have here!” Dorian remarked. “Magister Alexius was once my mentor, so my assistance should be valuable—as I’m sure you can imagine.”

Ellana tilted her head. “I was expecting Felix to be here. Not that I’m disappointed.” She smiled.

He smiled back, then grew serious. “I’m sure he’s on his way. He was to give you the note, then meet us here after ditching his father.”

She nodded. “Alexius couldn’t jump to Felix’s side fast enough when he pretended to be faint. Is something wrong with him?”

“He’s had some lingering illness for months,” replied Dorian. “Felix is an only child, and Alexius is being a mother hen, most likely.”

“Are...you a Magister?” asked Ellana.

Dorian rolled his eyes and sighed. “All right, let’s say this once. I’m a mage from Tevinter, but not a member of the Magisterium. I know Southerners use the terms interchangeably, but that only makes you sound like barbarians.”

“I’m Dalish,” she replied with a wink. “I am a barbarian.”

Dorian threw his head back and laughed. “So you are, my dear, so you are. Ooh, I like you! Still. Knowledge is power, and as a fellow mage, you should understand that well. Makes for less embarrassing social blunders in the future.”

“Are you the one who sent that note, then?” she asked.

“See? You are a clever girl,” he said with an approving nod. “I am the one who sent the note. Someone had to warn you, after all.” He lowered his voice. “Look, you must know there’s danger. That should be obvious even without the note. Let’s start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the mage rebels out from under you. As if by magic, yes? Which is exactly right. To reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself.”

“Distorting....is...bad,” asserted Ellana. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the concept. Time magic? It didn’t seem possible! Tevinter was weird.

“It’s even worse than it sounds,” Dorian concurred. “The rift you closed here? You saw how it twisted time around itself, sped some things up and slowed others down. Soon, there will be more like it, and they’ll appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it’s unraveling the world.”

Ellana gulped. “That’s a lot to take in all at once. Are...are you sure?”

Dorian nodded. “I know what I’m talking about. I helped develop this magic. When I was still his apprentice, it was pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work. What I don’t understand is why he’s doing it? Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackeys?”

A figure stepped out of the shadows. “He didn’t do it for them.” It was Felix, Alexius’ son.

“Took you long enough!” admonished Dorian. “Is he getting suspicious?”

Felix shook his head. “No, but I shouldn’t have played the illness card. I thought he’d be fussing over me all day.” He turned to Ellana. “My father’s joined a cult. Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves ‘Venatori.’ And I can tell you one thing: whatever he’s done for them, he’s done it to get to you.”

“Me?” Ellana asked. “What do they want with me?”

“They’re obsessed with you,” Felix answered. “But I don’t know why. Perhaps because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes?”

“You can close the rifts,” added Dorian. “Maybe there’s a connection? Or they see you as a threat?”

“If the Venatori are behind those rifts, or the Breach in the sky,” asserted Felix, “they’re even worse than I thought.”

Ellana raised her eyebrow at Felix. “Alexius is your father. Why are you telling me all this?”

“For the same reason Dorian works against him,” Felix answered. “I love my father. and I love my country. But this? Cults? Time magic? What he’s doing now is madness.” He took her hand in both of his. “For his own sake,” he pleaded. “You have to stop him.”

“It would also be nice if he didn’t rip a hole in time,” asserted Dorian. “There’s already a hole in the sky.”

Ellana smirked. “All this for me? And here I didn’t get Alexius anything.”

Dorian smiled. “Send him a fruit basket. Everyone loves those. You know you’re his target. Expecting the trap is the first step to turning it to your advantage. I can’t stay in Redcliffe. Alexius doesn’t know I’m here, and I want to keep it that way for now. But whenever you’re ready to deal with him, I want to be there. I’ll be in touch.” He turned to leave, but then paused, and turned around one last time. “Oh, and Felix? Try not to get yourself killed.”

“There are worse things than dying, Dorian,” Felix said quietly.

It was late. Under most circumstances, Ellana would have elected to stay at the inn, but with the likelihood of Alexius sending Venatori assassins to kill her in her sleep being rather high, she elected against it.

“Come on,” she said, after they left the Chantry. “I know a place where we can go.”

~~~

There was a waterfall in the Hinterlands that had a significant amount of dry space behind it. The water acted as an insulator and also drowned out any sounds of their conversation. Not that anyone was speaking. Everyone was still processing everything that had happened.

Everyone except Ellana.

Leaning against the limestone of the waterfall cave, she waited until the others had gone to sleep, then pulled Knight-Commander Greagoir’s book out of her pack and opened it.

“...Templars massacred...Grey Wardens Alistair Theirin and Elissa Cousland intervened...Enchanter Wynne advocated for Mage survivors...Cullen Stanton Rutherford, aged nineteen, only Templar survivor of tower siege...thirty-six hours of psychosexual torture by a desire demon...First Enchanter and half the high ranking mages of circle rescued by Grey Wardens...Rutherford called continuously and adamantly for Rite of Annulment for entire Circle...suspected mental instability due to torture endured...recommend six months treatment/observation…”

The book slipped from her hands to the floor of the cave. She didn’t know it was possible to feel so many things at once: sympathy for the suffering that Cullen went though and betrayal, both because he hadn’t told her and because of his documented desire to kill all the mages in the tower. It was monstrous what happened to him, and then he, in turn, had become a monster. She found herself afraid that deep down, he didn’t trust her either, that he would turn on her in a heartbeat, and that it was the reason he'd left her in Kirkwall.

She didn’t know what to think. All she knew was that her heart hurt and that she was already filled with dread that she would have to see him the next morning and try to explain why they had to help the mages.

Ellana laid her head down on the stone floor and cried herself to sleep.

Chapter Text

Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Now, walk like Vivienne taught you.

Ellana’s indigo robes contrasted sharply with the unusually grey skies that hung heavily over the Frostback Mountains. Varric looked up and grumbled, “Looks like rain.”

“Rain?” asked Cassandra. “There’s snow everywhere!”

“Only on the peaks. Believe me, I've spent enough time running around outdoors with Hawke to recognize the passing of the seasons, Seeker,” Varric replied. “Spring is here.”

“So we can expect milder weather, then?” asked Ellana. Everyone was shocked. It was the first sentence she’d uttered since they’d left camp that morning.

Varric laughed. “This isn't the Free Marches, this is Ferelden. Hawke always said that the Springtimes here always start out cold and stormy, and sometimes the snow comes back. But eventually, the sun comes out, the birds start singing, the buds turn to blossom and everything is beautiful.”

“Mmm.”

“Shitty at first, totally worth the wait in the long run,” Varric said with a smile.

And then Haven came into view.

“I don’t feel well,” murmured Ellana.

“Next time, bring The Iron Bull. You can have him carry you back,” said Cassandra.

“I don’t know, that might make Curly pretty jealous,” joked Varric.

“Curly? Who is Curly?” asked Cassandra, sounding very concerned.

“You don’t know?” Varric inquired.

“I wouldn't have asked if I—ugh, you’re insufferable,” said Cassandra.

“Think about it, Seeker. Who do you know who is head over heels for The Lady?” asked Varric, with a sweet smile directed at Ellana.

“Oh, that’s easy,” answered Cassandra. “Commander Cullen. Oh. Ohhhhh. I forgot about the hair.”

“Yeah, I wonder what his secret is,” said Varric with a tone of awe.

“Here I was beginning to worry that a fight was going to break out. Well, that is certainly a relief!” exclaimed Cassandra.

Ellana knew her companions meant well, but every step she took towards what had become her new home filled her with trepidation. Perhaps she would be able to slip in without anyone—

Suddenly, the bells of the Chantry started to ring out, welcoming the Herald of Andraste back to Haven.

“Well, shit,” whispered Ellana.

Cassandra, apparently not having heard Ellana over the sound of the pealing bells, turned to her and smiled. “Cullen’s agents must have spotted you. Come along, we must brief the War Council about the events in Redcliffe.”

~~~

When Ellana and Cassandra entered the Chantry, Cullen, Leliana and Josephine were already waiting. Ellana hadn't been prepared for this. She had hoped for an opportunity to take a brief detour in favor of visiting Mother Giselle, who reminded her a little bit of her grandmother and was not averse to giving hugs.

So, she did the next best thing, which was to completely avoid eye contact with Cullen.

This was a bad idea, since everyone was expecting her to initiate communication. After a few not-so-subtle nudges from Cassandra, she finally spoke, softly. “So, did Scout Harding arrive with my report?”

“Yes, she did,” answered Leliana.

“Everybody read it? Or at least had it read to them?” asked Ellana. “Broken down into small words so that they might grasp the enormity of the situation?” She knew she was being rude and hurtful. She didn't even really mean it, as much as she simply wanted to hurt Cullen in the same way he'd hurt her.

There was silence. Ellana was looking at the floor, but she assumed that everyone else was looking at each other with puzzled expressions. She sighed, then looked up at the ceiling. “Everyone is aware of what is going on in Redcliffe? Yes?”

“Yes,” answered Josephine.

This was moving along at a snail’s pace without the dynamic rapport between Cullen and Ellana that usually drove the meetings forward.

“Is...something wrong, Ellana?” asked Leliana. “You’re acting...odd.”

“You mean other than the Tevinter occupation of Redcliffe and the time magic?” Ellana answered. Because other than that, I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

Cullen sighed.

“WHAT.” There it was. Ellana’s frayed nerves gave way to anger. “Do you have something to say, Commander?”

“You’re acting childish, Herald.” Cullen answered. “Upset that I didn't give you a goodbye kiss before you left for Redcliffe after I practically begged you not to?” He too was out for blood, and if she was going to use the impersonal titles, then so would he.

“I’m being childish? I wasn't aware that people who stomp off when they don’t get what they want were allowed to lecture anyone else on the subject of maturity,” snapped Ellana.

“I told you that you should have spoken to the Templars—” Cullen started.

“And what? The situation in Redcliffe was just going to—poof—go away without anyone doing anything about it?” Ellana began. “Let’s examine our options, shall we? On one hand we have magic ripping a hole in time and a hostile foreign occupation of an arling. On the other hand, we have an arsehole Templar leader doing arsehole things and the rest of the Templars just going along with it because doing arsehole things is just what they do. Which one should we do something about? The very idea that I would go to the Templars after what they did in Val Royeaux—”

“Let’s not pretend. You were never going to go to the Templars!” shouted Cullen. “You don’t trust them!”

“No, I don’t! Ask the Templars to join an Inquisition whose public face is an apostate?” Ellana scoffed. “Are you mad? One call they don’t like and they’ll be calling for me to be made Tranquil or given the Rite of Annulment!”

“Now who’s being ludicrous!” Cullen countered. “The Templars wouldn't execute you for something as minor as one bad decision.”

“Oh no?” Ellana threw Greagoir’s book down at Cullen’s feet. “You would.”

Thunder shook the building, and the rain Varric had spoken of started to beat against the stained glass windows of the Chantry.

Cullen bent over to pick up the book. “Oh no,” he whispered.

“That’s why you don’t want me to go to Redcliffe,” Ellana growled. “You’re afraid that I’m so weak that I’ll get possessed by a demon.”

“No, I’m afraid you’ll be slaughtered by one,” Cullen said quietly.

“Even better! I fight demons every day, ever since I walked out of the Fade. How is this any different?” asked Ellana.

Cullen ran his gloved fingers through his hair. “You don’t understand…what it was like...and what it’s like for Templars.”

“I don’t think I want to understand anymore!” Ellana shouted. “Throwing hapless and helpless young mages to the demons with barely any means of protecting themselves. That’s what the Templars have been doing. For ages. Everywhere that there's a Circle. And if the Mage fails, they’re dead.”

“Yes, pity the poor helpless mages sacrificing innocent people so they can bind demons,” snapped Cullen.

“Do you remember when you stole the Litany of Adralla for me?” asked Ellana. “Because let’s face it, you may have used Varric as a go-between, but it was really you. Stealing. From Meredith. For me. I wanted the book to protect my clan from blood mages, and thank the Creators, it worked.” She took a few steps closer to Cullen so they were almost touching. “Do you know why I wanted the book? It was for two reasons. To protect my people from blood mages, true. But the other reason was to protect my Clan from the Templars. One possessed person and whole clans have been wiped out for fear of...what did you call it? Contamination?”

Ellana and Cullen stood opposite each other, not even one foot apart, skin flushed, hearts racing, eyes dilated. It was like they were waiting for something.

Out of Ellana’s eyeline, Cullen tentatively reached towards her wrist. But she turned her back on him before he could make contact. “I thought you were different,” she spat bitterly.

“Enough!” shouted Cassandra.

Ellana hung her head and rubbed her temples. “You’re...right, Cassandra. We came here to discuss work, let’s discuss work.” She scowled at Cullen, then stalked off to the War Room while the others followed.

“We don’t have the manpower to take the Castle!” Cullen protested. “Either we find another way in, or give up this nonsense—” he paused and stared at Ellana, “and go get the Templars!”

“Redcliffe is in the hands of a Magister,” Cassandra countered. “ I agree with Ellana. This cannot be allowed to stand.”

“We received a letter from Alexius that asked for Ellana by name,” said Josephine. “It’s an obvious trap.”

“Isn't that kind of him!” Ellana remarked. “What does Alexius say about me?”

“He is so complimentary,” answered Leliana, “that we are certain he wants to kill you.”

Cullen shook his head. “Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults.” He turned to Ellana and for a moment, the anger left his eyes. “If you go in there, you’ll die. And we will lose the only means we have of closing the rifts. I won’t allow it.”

“You?” Ellana asked mockingly. “Won’t allow it? Are you going to stop me? I'm the Herald of Andraste!”

“You don’t even believe in the Maker!” objected Cullen. “You don’t get to throw your title around just to win an argument!”

“What’s one more God to me?” argued Ellana.

“Be silent,” Leliana said firmly but quietly before turning to Cullen. “If we don’t even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep.”

Josephine sighed. “Even if we could assault the Keep, it would be for naught. An ‘Orlesian’ Inquisition’s army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied.”

Ellana rolled her eyes. “Who here is Orlesian? Show of hands!” Ellana pointed to Cullen, Josephine, Cassandra, herself and finally to Leliana. “Fereldan. Antivan. Nevarran. Free Marches. The only person here remotely Orlesian is Leliana and not only is she Fereldan by birth, but she’s friends with the King of Ferelden. We’re safe as kittens!”

“It’s...more complicated than that,” answered Josephine.

“The Magister—” Cassandra began.

“Has outplayed us,” Cullen interrupted.

“No,” said Ellana, settling into the armchair by the fire. “I refuse to believe that there is nothing we can do. There has to be another way to get into that castle.”

Cassandra followed Ellana, leaned against the mantle and stared at the fire. “Ellana is right. We cannot accept defeat now. There must be a solution.”

“I don’t suppose we can just ask Arl Teagan for the keys,” Ellana joked.

Josephine walked over to the fireplace and stood to the opposite side of Cassandra. “After he was displaced, the Arl rode straight to Denerim to petition the Crown for help. I doubt he’ll want our assistance once the Fereldan army lays siege to his castle.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Wait,” said Leliana. “There is a secret passage into the Castle, an escape route for the family. It’s too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through.”

“It’s too risky,” argued Cullen. “Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the Magister.”

“Not if we give Alexius what he wants,” Ellana asserted quietly. “He wants to have a meeting with me, right? Josephine can set up the meeting. While he’s distracted with me, Leliana’s people go in through the secret passage, kill his guards, and I stop Alexius.”

“It’s risky, but it could work,” Cullen concurred.

The door opened dramatically, and Dorian Pavus, most recently of Minrathous, stepped inside like he owned the building with Lieutenant Shapeley following in his wake.

“Fortunately, you’ll have help,” Dorian said.

Shapeley addressed the Council. “This man says he has information about the Magister and his methods, Commander.”

Dorian spoke. “Your spies will never get past Alexius’ magic without my help. So if you’re going after him, I’m coming along.”

Cullen looked at Ellana. “Your plan...puts you in danger. We can’t in good conscience make you go through with it. It’s not too late to go with—never mind.”

Ellana got up from the chair and tentatively approached him. “Cullen, I—”

“Don’t get captured, Herald,” Cullen said quietly, looking away from her. “I won’t come riding to your rescue.”

Ellana turned around so Cullen couldn't see the tears in her eyes. "Of course, Commander. I wouldn't want you to lose the only means you have of sealing the rifts. I know how important that is to you. It's the only important thing to you."

Chapter Text

Ellana, Cassandra, and Varric strode into the main hall of Redcliffe Castle. They were stopped by a masked Venatori and a milquetoast lackey. Ellana was in no mood to be trifled with.

“Announce us,” Ellana commanded. “Now.”

“The Magister’s invitation was for Mistress Lavellan alone,” said the lackey. “The rest will wait here.”

Ellana raised an eyebrow and hoped that she was doing Vivienne proud. “I don’t go anywhere without my entourage.”

The Lackey paused.

“Is there a problem?” Ellana asked.

The Lackey gave Ellana a nod and led her and her companions to the throne room with several Venatori guards bringing up the rear.

The Lackey announced Ellana. “My Lord Magister, The Agents of the Inquisition have arrived.”

Alexius rose from the Arl’s throne. “My friend! It’s so good to see you again...and your associates of course. I’m sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties.”

Fiona stepped forward. “Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?”

Alexius addressed her condescendingly. “Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives.”

“He’s right, Fiona. Take a look at that face!” Ellana remarked, pointing at the Magister. “That’s a face you can trust.”

“Yes, I get that a lot,” replied Alexius. He turned, and sat back down on the Arl’s throne. “The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach, and I have them. So. What shall you offer in exchange?”

Ellana flashed a pirate’s smile at the Magister. “Nothing. I’m just going to take the Mages and leave.”

Alexius asked, “And how do you imagine you’ll accomplish such a feat?”

Felix turned to Alexius. “She knows everything, Father.”

Alexius’ expression turned grave. “Felix, what have you done?”

“We’re going to play a little game, Alexius,” Ellana said. “It’s called ‘Let’s Tell The Truth.’ You go first. Why are you really here? I know you have no real intention of handing over the mages. They’re just bait.”

“Clever girl,” remarked the Magister.

“Such flattery!” Ellana exclaimed with a smirk. “The Keeper did not raise fools.”

“Do you know what you are?” asked Alexius.

“Do the ears not give it away?” Ellana asked in return. “What about the facial tattoos? No?”

“You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark—”

“You’re one to talk about stealing!” Ellana snapped. “Last I checked, your name’s not Arl Teagan. He has a goatee. Brown eyes, brown hair. I can’t tell what your hair color is if you wear that hood all the time. So last Age!”

“You think you’re in control?” Alexius spat. “You’re nothing but a mistake!”

“My, this is traumatizing,” retorted Ellana. “And here my parents told me I was planned. Their little blessing from Mythal—”

“Shut it, you knife-eared little trollop!” yelled Alexius.

“Curly’s not going to like that,” mumbled Varric.

“If I’m a mistake,” shouted Ellana, “then what, precisely, was supposed to happen at the Conclave?”

Alexius responded breathlessly. “It was to be a triumphant moment for the Elder One, for this world!” If there was one thing Ellana was very good at, it was irritating people to the point that they’d end up showing their hand.

“Father, listen to yourself!” pleaded Felix. “Do you know what you sound like?”

Dorian strode into the room. “He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliche that everyone expects us to be.”

“You always do know how to make an entrance,” said Ellana with a smirk.

“Well, I have to try a little harder with you around, Mistress Lavellan,” Dorian said with a playful wink.“What with you dominating these proceedings like a queen.”

“Dorian,” Alexius said with a frown. “I gave you a chance to be a part of this. You turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes.”

Ellana rolled her eyes. “Blah, blah. ‘My cult is better than yours.’ I’ve heard it a thousand times. Yawn.”

Dorian added, “Well, you know, it’s a chance for the Imperium to really one-up that whole ‘Starting the Blight’ thing.”

“He will make the world bow to mages once more,” said Alexius. “We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas.”

Fiona was furious. “You can’t involve my people in this!”

“Alexius,” Dorian pleaded, spreading his hands out placatingly, “This is exactly what you and I talked about never wanting to happen! Why would you support this?”

Felix reached out to his Father, “Stop it, Father! Give up the Venatori. Let the Southern mages fight the Breach...and let’s go home.”

“No!” Alexius said in anguish. “It’s the only way, Felix! He can save you!”

“Save me?” asked Felix.

“There is a way,” explained Alexius. “The Elder One promised! If I undo the mistake at the Temple…”

Felix shook his head. “I’m going to die. You need to accept that!”

“Seize them, Venatori!” ordered Alexius. “The Elder One demands this woman’s life!”

But that order would prove difficult for them to obey, as they each collapsed, dead, victims of Leliana's assassins who had slipped in through the secret passageway.

“Your men are dead, Alexius,” said Ellana. A powerful sensation of triumph began to come over Ellana. See, Cullen? I told you I could handle this!

“You…”gasped Alexius in an apoplectic fury, “are a mistake! You never should have existed!”

Something began to glow in his hand, then levitate. An amulet. Dorian, sensing trouble, readied a counter-spell in an attempt to knock the focus from the Magister’s hand.

“No!” Dorian cried out.

But the magics clashed and created a vortex that drew Dorian and Ellana into it.

~~~

Seconds later, Ellana realized she was crouching in a flooded cell. Venatori guardsmen rushed over.

“Blood of the Elder One!” cried one.

“Where’d they come from?” asked another.

For a couple of distinguished mages like Dorian and Ellana, the men were mere child’s play. But that wasn’t their main concern. When the last of the guards dropped and Ellana was fishing for the key to their cell, she asked, “Where the fuck are we?”

“Ellana, my love?” replied Dorian. “I get the distinct impression that the question should be ‘when the fuck are we.’ Those guards weren’t expecting us.” He thought for a moment. “Displacement. How interesting! It’s probably not what Alexius intended. He used the amulet as a focus and it moved us through time!”

Ellana looked around. They were surrounded by nothing but water and red lyrium growing out of the walls. She shuddered. “When, then, Dorian?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “But let’s look around. See where the rift took us. Then we can figure out how to get back...if we can.”

Ellana started trudging through the water, heading North. “What do you think Alexius was trying to do?”

Dorian sloshed alongside her. “I believe his original plan was to remove you from time completely. If that happened, you never would have been at the Temple of Sacred Ashes or mangled his Elder One’s plan.” They reached stairs that went right and left and took the left fork. “I think your surprise in the Castle Hall made him reckless. He tossed us into the rift before he was ready.” They arrived at a dead end. Ellana bent down to retrieve some loot on the ground and headed back the other way. “I countered it, the magic went wild, and here we are. Make sense?”

Ellana nodded. “I think I understand the concept and the execution. What I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around is the consequences.”

Dorian sighed. “I don’t even want to think about what this will do to the fabric of the world. We didn’t travel through time so much as punch a hole through it and toss it in the privy.” He stopped, placed a gentle hand on her arm, and said reassuringly, “But don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll protect you.”

Ellana smiled at him. “Curly won’t like that,” she whispered softly. She felt a strange twist in her stomach as she said it.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Dorian asked.

“One of Varric’s running gags. Whenever something happens that might make Cullen jealous or angry, Varric mumbles, ‘Curly won’t like that.’” Noticing the worry that started to creep onto Dorian’s face, she continued. “But I’m only joking. I know your interest in me is purely platonic.”

“That obvious then, is it?” Dorian asked with a smirk.

“It’s practically stamped on your forehead,” Ellana replied. “Then again, you also remind me a lot of my twin brother, so that may have made it easier to spot.”

Dorian looked around and shook his head. “Alexius has made a dreadful mess of this place, hasn’t he?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see this part of the castle,” Ellana replied.

“It was covered in the tackiest carvings of wolves and dogs I’d ever seen!” exclaimed Dorian. “This is not an improvement.”

“And all this red lyrium. So gauche!” Ellana concurred.

Dorian laughed.

They stopped when they came to a room with a living person still in it. Although living was a loose definition of his condition. Ellana recognized the catatonic young man singing the Chant of Light as one of Fiona’s mages she’d met in Redcliffe Village. “Lysas? What did they do to you?”

Lysas kept singing, apparently unaware of her presence.

Dorian and Ellana moved forward and came to a great open area within the castle. To the west was a drawbridge, raised, and to the north and south were Venatori guards. After disposing of the guards, they continued north and headed down a flight of stairs. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Ellana stopped. “Am I going mad?”

Dorian replied, “Under the circumstances, I wouldn’t blame you. But no, my love. I’m afraid you’re quite sane. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve heard that red lyrium...sings,” Ellana answered. “And I swear I can hear humming.”

They paused for a moment to listen, then Dorian said, “I’ve spent less time around it than you have and I can hear it too. I think it’s coming from this door to the right.”

Dorian opened the door and Ellana burst through it, following the sound. Immediately to her right was Varric, locked in a cell, essence of red lyrium emanating from his person. He looked up at her. “Andraste’s sacred knickers. You’re alive!” He stood up at Ellana opened the cell door with the prison key. “Where were you? How did you escape?”

“We didn’t escape,” explained Dorian. “Alexius sent us through time.”

Varric smirked. “Everything that happens to you is weird.”

“You might be right about that,” Ellana replied.

“I’m always right,” said Varric with a shrug. “And when I’m not, I lie about it.” He smiled. “So, what are you doing here? Or did you come back just to trade quips with me?”

Dorian replied, “We get to Alexius, and I just might be able to send us back to our own time. Simple, really.”

“That...may not be as easy as you think,” said Varric.

Dorian and Ellana looked at each other, and then looked at Varric.

“Alexius is just a servant,” he continued. “His ‘Elder One’ assassinated the Empress and led a demon army in a huge invasion of the south. The Elder One rules everything. What’s left of it, anyway. Alexius...is really not the one you need to worry about.”

It was...difficult for Ellana to see Varric suffering as clearly as he was. No one wanted to rid the world of red lyrium as much as he did, and now it was infesting him. He may have lost hope, but she was counting on the fact that he had not lost his sense of humor. “Assassins and a demon army?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “All these weird things happening without me? Perish the thought! This Elder One and I are going to have words, but first, I want a crack at Alexius. See if we can stop all this from happening.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re crazy,” Varric said. “Or I’m crazy. But it’s a nice thought. If you want to take on Alexius, I’m in. Let me get Bianca. She’s locked up in that cabinet over there.”

Moments later, they were heading down another flight of stairs. “You’re sure Cassandra is down here?” Ellana asked.

“Last I heard,” Varric said. “With all the water and red lyrium around, sound carries. If I listen carefully, sometimes I can hear her reciting the Chant of Light.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” said Dorian.

They again opened a door on the right, and Ellana heard a familiar alto, albeit with the same crystalline quality to it that Varric’s voice had taken on. “The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world and into the next...for she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water.”

Cassandra was sitting on the floor of her cell. She too had been infected with red lyrium. Cassandra looked up at Ellana in disbelief. “You’ve returned to us! Can it be? Has Andraste given us a second chance?” She looked away. “Maker forgive me! I failed You. I failed everyone. The end must truly be upon us if the dead return to life.”

Ellana knelt down and wrapped Cassandra in a loving embrace. After she pulled back, she looked at her again. “Cassandra! You’re hurt!” She reached for her pack. “I’m sure I have something—”

Cassandra laid her hand on Ellana’s shoulder. “I’m long past elfroot, Ellana. I’ll be with the Maker soon.”

Ellana shut her eyes and stood again. Any Maker that allowed this to happen didn’t deserve to have Cassandra by His side. But it's the only comfort she has left, and I would sooner die than take it from her.

As if he could sense her struggle, Dorian explained gently. “Alexius sent us forward through time. If we find him, we may be able to return to the present.”

Ellana extended her hand to Cassandra, and Cassandra took it, getting to her feet. “Go back in time? Then...can you make it so that none of this ever takes place?”

“I will do everything in my power to stop this from happening,” Ellana answered.

“None of this will happen,” said Cassandra. “Andraste, please let that be true.”

Meanwhile, Varric had found Cassandra’s longsword. He handed it to her. As she placed it in her scabbard, Ellana asked, “Do either of you know what happened to Cullen?”

Varric looked at Cassandra.

Cassandra looked at Varric.

They looked at her.

“No,” said Varric.

Cassandra hung her head. “We do not,” she replied. After an awkward pause, she continued,“The guards say that Alexius never leaves his throne room. That’s where we should go.”

Together, the reunited companions exited the cells and headed down the southern path, where there were more cells. Ellana opened the door to investigate.

At the end of the room was Fiona. Or what was left of her. So much of her body had been taken over by the red lyrium that she was held in place by it, unable to move. But she could still speak. “You’re...alive!” she gasped. “How? I saw you...disappear...into the rift.”

Answers were not going to save Fiona now. Ellana needed to be the one asking the questions. “Fiona, please. What is the date?”

“Harvestmere...9:42 Dragon,” she replied.

“Nine Forty-Two?” asked Dorian. “Then we’ve missed an entire year!”

“Well, we shall have to rectify that, won’t we?” said Ellana.

“Please,” begged Fiona, “Stop this from happening. Alexius...serves the Elder One...more powerful...than the Maker...no one...challenges him and lives.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Fiona,” said Ellana.

“Our only hope is to find the amulet that Alexius used to send us here,” said Dorian. “If it still exists, I can use it to reopen the rift at the exact spot we left. Maybe.”

“Good,” replied Fiona.

“I said maybe,” Dorian clarified. “It also might turn us into paste.”

“You are not filling me with confidence here, Dorian,” said Ellana.

“You must try,” pleaded Fiona. “Your Spymaster, Leliana...She is here. Find her. Quickly...before the Elder One...learns you’re here.”

Ellana and company headed back up the stairs, hurrying when they heard the drawbridge lowering. When they reached the great open room again, the guards charged them.

“Idiots,” growled Ellana.

“Now, now, my love!” Dorian jokingly admonished her, “Don’t mock the afflicted! They can’t all be preternaturally gifted mages!”

“Do you always boast this much, Dorian?” asked Cassandra as she cut down one of the guards.

“This is me exercising restraint in light of a grave situation!” Dorian called out with glee.

Cassandra groaned. Ellana smiled. It was nice that some things hadn’t changed.

After all the guards were dead, they strolled down the new avenue opened to them and headed upstairs to the Guard Barracks, and, beyond that, up another flight of stairs to the Torture Chambers.

When they reached the top of those stairs, they could hear a torturer at work. “There is no Maker. The Elder One has taken all that is His and will soon rule from His city.”

“That still doesn’t make him a God,” answered a voice Ellana recognized as belonging to a Chantry sister who was ministering to the Rebel Mages in Redcliffe. Her defiance was met with a sickening crack, and then she spoke no more.

Ellana kicked open the door. Cassandra rushed past her, charging right towards the head torturer. The rest were cut down quickly with spells and bolts. After the torturers were defeated, Cassandra and Varric began to act...nervous. Cassandra paced the room and Varric fiddled with Bianca’s settings.

“Let’s move,” said Ellana. They continued down the corridor. At the end of the hall, there were two doors, one on the left and one on the right. There were sounds coming from the one on the left, but it was locked. While Varric worked on opening it, Ellana moved closer and put her ear to the door.

“How did Lavellan know of the sacrifice at the Temple? Answer!” screamed an interrogator.

“Never!” exclaimed Leliana.

She was struck and yelped in pain. The interrogator continued. “There’s no use to this defiance, little bird. There is only one left to protect, and it won’t be long before—”

Leliana spat at him and interrupted. “You’re wasting your breath!”

She was struck again. Ellana looked at Varric and mouthed, “Hurry!”

“Talk! The Elder One demands answers!” demanded the interrogator.

Leliana laughed. It was an ugly laugh. “He’ll get used to disappointment.”

She heard the slicing sound that a sharp metal weapon makes when it is dragged across leather.

“You...will...break!” the interrogator hissed.

“I will die first,” answered Leliana, her voice filled with bitterness and hatred.

Varric opened the lock and Ellana rushed inside, which provided the perfect distraction for Leliana. “Or you will,” The Nightingale spat, then used her abdominal strength to lift up her legs and wrap them around her captor’s neck before twisting violently and breaking his neck.

When he dropped to the floor, Ellana rushed over, found his key, and unlocked the chains that were being used to suspend Leliana from the ceiling.

“You’re alive!” she said.

“You’re tough,” said Ellana.

“It hasn’t done me any favors,” snapped Leliana. “Do you have weapons?”

Ellana nodded.

“Good,” Leliana replied. “The Magister’s probably in his chambers.”

She moved to walk past her, but Ellana held out her arm. “Wait. There is one thing I need to know first.”

“We have no time for a history lesson,” growled Leliana.

“I need to know—” Ellana began.

“No!” Leliana hissed. “The Venatori had more will and more sadism than you have at your disposal and I didn’t tell them anything, so why would I tell you anything?”

“Because I’m your friend!” exclaimed Ellana.

“Friend?” Leliana sneered. “You were the Herald of Andraste and no one was going to tell you what to do!”

“That’s funny, I seem to recall that recruiting the mages was as much your idea as it was mine,” Ellana growled.

“I WAS WRONG,” shouted Leliana. “Mages are monsters. No wonder why people fear you.”

“Mages just rescued you from certain death,” countered Ellana.

“I am already dead. All you did was buy me a little more time,” Leliana grumbled, and attempted to move past Ellana again, but the elf stood firm.

“Where is Cullen?” Ellana asked.

“You don’t deserve to know,” answered Leliana.

“Please!” Ellana cried.

“No,” answered Leliana.

Ellana took her staff, charged it, and pointed it at her own head. “Tell me where he is.”

“The only person you would hurt at this point is yourself,” said Leliana.

Ellana fell to her knees weeping. She clutched the hem of Leliana’s robes with nothing short of total desperation. “Please, Leliana. Where is Cullen? I beg of you. Tell me!”

“Why do you care?” asked Leliana. “None of this will ever happen to you.”

“Because,” Ellana wailed, “I love him!”

Leliana bowed her head for a moment, then pointed towards the room across the hall.

“Ellana,” said Leliana, putting a withered hand on her shoulder. “if this isn’t going to happen, you don’t have to do this to yourself.”

Ellana patted Leliana’s hand and walked towards the other room. “Yes, I do.” The door was locked, so again, Varric had to pick open the heavy wooden door.

When she looked inside, she had to bite her hand to keep from screaming. Cullen’s broken, disfigured form lay strapped to a rack. He was bent in some places that weren’t meant to bend. There were shards of red lyrium growing out of his body in multiple places. But the sound of his ragged breathing told her he was somehow, some way, still alive.

He called out to her. “Ellana? Is it really you?”

“Cullen!” She ran to his side and threw her arms around him. Behind her, Cassandra covered her mouth as she burst into tears. Varric patted the Seeker on the back sympathetically.

“I knew you’d come back,” Cullen sighed as Ellana frantically unlatched his restraints.

“I thought you weren’t going to ride to my rescue,” Ellana gently admonished, as she turned a crank on the rack that aided Cullen in sitting up.

“I lied,” he said, laughing weakly. “I will always come for you, silly girl.”

Ellana started to cry. Cullen extended his one still-functioning arm to her and caressed her face, wiping her tears away with his thumb. She pressed her face into his hand and more tears trickled out. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice breaking.

“I love you, Ellana,” he whispered. “I have...since the first—” Cullen coughed violently. It looked to Ellana like the pain it was causing him was excruciating. When he was able to breathe properly again, he looked at her sadly. “I want to go home. Will you take me home?”

“I’ll take you anywhere—” Ellana choked on a sob, “that you want to go.”

Dorian called out gently, “Ellana, we’re running out of time.”

“I can’t just leave him!” Ellana protested.

“And you never will,” whispered Cullen. “Take Cassandra’s sword.” He pointed to his throat. “And make it quick. The weight will help.”

“Cullen, don’t—”

“Ellana, please!” Cullen begged.

Ellana reached behind her and Cassandra handed her the longsword that she carried. The she gazed at him, closed her eyes, leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. “I love you, Cullen,” she said after pulling away. “I’ve...always wanted to do that.”

“I know. It’s nice to hear you say it though.” He nodded at her. It was time.

Ellana got to her feet, and with all of her strength, she lifted Cassandra’s longsword and slashed Cullen across the throat. Then, she dropped the blade with a clatter, wrapped her arms around him, and held him until he stopped shaking.

When Cullen had stilled, Ellana kissed his eyelids and whispered, “Dareth shiral, emma nehn, emma vhenan, emma lath.”

Then she rose and walked out the door without looking back.

Alexius is going to die.

Ellana fought her way to the entrance to the throne room like a woman possessed by a Rage demon. It was all the others could do just to keep up with her. When the last body fell, she ran at full sprint to the door. She was so close...anytime now...Dorian will fix this and then she can go home to Cullen…

“Home to Cullen…” she whispered, tasting the sound of the words on her tongue. Clean, sweet, and slightly hot with a long finish, like the wine he shared with her the last time they had lunch together. It was complex. Delicious, but...natural.

When did that happen? She shrugged before she grabbed the handle to the door and pulled.

Nothing.

No. Not acceptable.

“Varric? Can you get this? It’s another locked door.”

“I’ll take a look,” replied Varric as he hurried as fast as his legs could carry him.

She walked down the steps and paced in front of the door, back and forth. She must have made for quite a sight, Her favorite mage robe, the one Cullen seemed to like so much, drenched in his blood, her skin streaked with dirt and sweat and red lyrium dust.

“I need a bath,” she muttered,

“Too bad Haven doesn’t have facilities,” grunted Cassandra. At least the weather is...was...is...was—”

“It’s improving,” Ellana finished for her. It was hard enough as a mage to wrap her mind around what had happened. She could only imagine what it was like for normal people.

“How are you, my love?” asked Dorian, rubbing her shoulders gently. It was astounding how fast the two of them had bonded. On her end, it was not so shocking. He was, as she’d told him, much like her brother, only perhaps more ambitious. And she didn’t have to worry about him secretly wanting to seduce her. But why is he taking to me so strongly?

“Heartbroken and angry,” she answered. “Thank you.”

“Thank you?” asked Dorian with a chuckle. “For your heartbreak and anger?”

“No,” Ellana answered. “For being you. I don’t think I could take this otherwise.”

“I am honored to be all that’s standing between you and going mad with grief and despair,” Dorian said with a sweeping bow.

Varric turned around. “We have a problem.”

Leliana pushed past. “Let me try.”

“It’s not that kind of lock, Nightingale,” sighed Varric. “I think that Sparkler is better off looking at it.”

Everyone turned to look at Dorian. “Is it that obvious?” he asked.

“YES!” everyone else said.

Dorian gave the door a once-over. “This door...cannot be unlocked with a key. It requires some sort of shard, five of them by the looks of it, to be fitted into these indentations here. See?”

Ellana tilted her head. Where had she seen those shapes before? She opened her pack. “Warhammer, no. Silver earrings, no. Weak frost staff that I’m going to break down for parts, no. Ah!”

Ellana pulled out a handful of red lyrium shards. “Do you think these will work?”

“Ooh!” exclaimed Dorian. “Can I take a look at that?”

Varric turned to Ellana. “Whatever you do, do not take Sparkler and Chuckles out together ever. You’ll never get anything done. Ooh, look at that demon! Let’s make friends with it! Ooh, look at this dirt! It’s magic dirt from the Storm Age!”

“Who is Chuckles?” asked Dorian, fitting the pieces into place.

“If all goes well, you’ll find out soon enough,” answered Varric.

The door lit up. “I think that means it worked,” said Dorian.

“Good,” said Ellana, walking back up the stairs. “Because I don’t want to have to retrace my steps and take the chance I’ll end up in Connor’s room again.”

“Ugh,” grunted Cassandra, following after.

“Yay!” Ellana said quietly as she moved to open the door.. “Less nightmare material!”

When the door opened, Ellana had expected a horde of guards, maybe a nasty enchanter or two, but no. Alexius was alone, his back turned to her. Felix was at his heels, hunched over like some sort of beast.

Can it truly be this easy? Where can I find the satisfaction in this?

Oh yes. With his head on the end of my fucking staff. “Look at what you’ve done, Alexius! All this suffering, and for what?” Her words rang through the throne room, but they sounded empty to her ears.

Alexius did not turn around. “For my country, for my son,” he answered. “But it means nothing now. I knew that you would appear again. Not that it would be now, but I knew I hadn’t destroyed you. My final failure.”

“Was it worth it?” asked Dorian. “Everything you did to the world, to yourself?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” answered Alexius. “All we can do is wait for the end.”

The Magister’s myopic misery angered Ellana. “It does matter. I will undo this.”

Alexius sighed laboriously, like a sloth abomination. Or despair. “How many times have I tried? The past cannot be undone. All that I fought for, all that I betrayed. What have I wrought? Ruin and death. There is nothing else. The Elder One comes for me, for you, for us all.”

Alexius had spent so much time wallowing in his own self-pity that he hadn’t noticed Sister Leliana creeping up behind Felix. Indeed, no one had noticed that she’d wandered off. Even after a year in chains, she was one of the most dangerous women in Thedas. Not that there was much competition at that point. She pulled him to his feet and held her dagger to his throat.

That got Alexius’ attention. “Felix!”

Dorian hadn’t even recognized his friend. “That’s Felix? Maker’s breath, Alexius! What have you done?”

“He would have died, Dorian!” cried Alexius. “I saved him. Please,” he begged Leliana, “don’t hurt my son! I’ll do anything you ask!”

Ellana looked from Leliana to Alexius. “Give us the amulet and she’ll let him go.”

Alexius pleaded, “Let my son go, and I will give you anything you ask!”

Wrong answer.

“I want the world back,” growled Leliana, and she slit Felix’s throat.

“Well, shit,” said Varric.

At first, Alexius was in shock. “No.” Then he sent Leliana flying backwards with a wave of magical force. “NO!”

Though Ellana had felt horribly for Felix, she found herself thinking, now this is more like it. Calling the storm by the power of her will and the magic of her blood, she struck again and again. Each time the lightning shot out of her body, she thought of Cullen. I will destroy this man, because he took you away from me.

He opened a rift or two to take the attention off of himself. This only made her angrier. “Coward!” she screamed every time she had to close one. When the deathblow landed, Alexius cried out, “Time’s...up!”

Ellana took her staff and began to physically strike the corpse with it, beating him to a pulp. But no matter how hard she tried, Alexius’ blood could not wash off Cullen’s. She fell to her knees and screamed. Dorian extended his hand to her and pulled her back up and into an embrace. “Come on, love. Let’s go home.”

“Sorry about your...friend,” she said sheepishly, as she tugged the blade of her staff out of Alexius’ head.

“Understandable under the circumstances, but’s be a little less stab-happy with the Alexius of our time, all right?” Dorian knelt down and retrieved Alexius’ focus amulet. “This is the same amulet he used before. I think it’s the same one we made in Minrathous. That’s a relief. Give me an hour to work out the spell he used and I should be able to re-open the rift.”

Leliana, apparently having recovered, strode forward. “An hour? That’s impossible. You must go now!”

And that’s when the ground began to shake beneath their feet, an unearthly howl sounded, and Leliana simply said, “The Elder One.”

Varric spoke up. “You have to hurry. This...is bad.” He looked up at Cassandra, who nodded at him. “We’ll hold the main door. Once they break through, it’s all you, Nightingale!”

“No!” Ellana cried out, “I won’t let you commit suicide. There has to be another way!”

“Look at us,” replied Leliana. “We are already dead. The only way we live is if this day never comes.”

Ellana nodded and embraced Cassandra and Varric. “I love you both so much!”

“And you can again,” said Varric with a smile. “That’s the beauty of it.”

While Varric and Cassandra walked out the door and shut it behind them, Leliana spoke to Dorian. “Cast your spell. You have as much time as I have arrows.”

As the amulet levitated by Dorian’s will, Leliana began to recite the Chant of Light. “Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame.” She readied an arrow.

The door broke open. Varric was dead. And if he was dead, Cassandra was too. Demon and Venatori troops began to march towards them. Leliana began firing. Her arrows flew faster than any Ellana had ever seen.

“Andraste guide me, Maker, take me to your side!” Leliana was struck in the shoulder by an Venatori marksman. Instinctively, Ellana began to rush towards her, but was stopped by Dorian.

“You move, and we all die!” he cried.

Ellana watched with amazement as the Nightngale spun and jabbed at her enemies with her bow. Even wounded, she seemed invincible.

The rift re-opened and Leliana turned around.

This was Venatori’s opportunity, and they took it, seizing Leliana from behind. Ellana had just enough time to see her be impaled by the claw of a demon before Dorian took her hand and guided her through the rift…

~~~

...and back into the present.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Dorian quipped.

Alexius dropped to his knees.

Ellana was incensed. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

“You won,” Alexius sighed. “There is no point extending this charade.” He looked up at his son. “Felix…”

Felix crouched next to Alexius. “It’s going to be all right, Father.”

Alexius shook his head in despair. “You’ll die.”

“Everyone dies,” replied Felix.

Inquisition soldiers escorted Alexius out.

Dorian turned to Ellana. “Well, I’m glad that’s over with!” He was interrupted by the sound of soldiers marching into the throne room.

Fereldan soldiers.

“Or not,” finished Dorian.

After the soldiers had taken their positions, Ellana was shocked to see King Alistair himself walk into the room. “Grand Enchanter,” he said. “Imagine how surprised I was to learn you’d given Redcliffe Castle away to a Tevinter Magister.”

Fiona approached the King humbly...and with something else Ellana could not recognize at the time. “King Alistair!”

“Especially since I’m fairly sure Redcliffe belongs to Arl Teagan,” the King continued.

“Your Majesty,” Fiona began as she wrung her hands. “We never intended…”

“I know what you intended,” said King Alistair. “I wanted to help you, but you’ve made it impossible!” He shook his head. “You and your followers are no longer welcome in Ferelden.”

“But...we have hundreds who need protection!” Fiona cried. “Where will we go?”

Ellana spoke up. “The Inquisition is willing to take in the mages.”

“And what are the terms of the arrangement?” asked Fiona.

Ellana’s mouth twitched. Part of her had to admire the Grand Enchanter’s audacity to ask about terms after everything that had happened.

“Hopefully better than what Alexius gave you,” said Dorian. “The Inquisition is better than that, yes?”

Cassandra spoke. “I know you are a mage, but consider how these rebels have acted. They must be conscripted, not coddled.”

Varric demurred. “I’ve known a lot of mages. They can be loyal friends if you let them. Friends who make bad decisions, but still. Loyal.”

Fiona said to Ellana, “It seems we have little choice but to accept whatever you offer.”

I don’t want to be like Alexius. “We would be honored to have you fight as allies at the Inquisition’s side.”

“Curly’s not going to like that,” said Varric, smirking.

“No, he’s not,” Ellana concurred.

“We’ll discuss this,” Cassandra said tersely. “Later.”

“I’ll pray that the rest of your Inquisition honors your promise, then,” said Fiona.

“The Breach threatens all of Thedas,” Ellana looked pointedly at Cassandra. “We cannot afford to be divided now.” She turned back to Fiona. “We can’t fight it without you. Any chance of success requires your full support.”

“I’d take that offer if I were you,” said King Alistair. “One way or another, you’re leaving my kingdom.”

Fiona bowed her head for a moment, then said to Ellana, “We accept. It would be madness not to. I will gather my people and ready them for the journey to Haven. The Breach will be closed.” She smiled. “You will not regret giving us this chance.”

“Herald?”

Ellana turned. It was the King. She curtsied deeply. “Your Majesty.”

“A word alone, if you please,” he said.

She turned to Dorian and raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the King. “How could I refuse?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m going to cut your head off if you say no,” he replied. “It’s just...what Kings say. When they want to speak in private.”

The King led her to a small bedroom and shut the door behind them. “This used to be my old room when I lived in Redcliffe. I feel...more comfortable in here.” He looked over at the bed, then back at Ellana. “I...didn’t bring you here to seduce you or anything. Happily married. And then there’s the other reason.”

“What reason is that?” asked Ellana. “Your Majesty?”

Alistair rolled his eyes. “You can lose the formalities. Here,” he sat down on his old bed, “I’m just Alistair. And you are…”

“Ellana,” she answered.

“I know,” Alistair grinned. “He told me.”

“Who told you?” asked Ellana.

“Cullen S—Rutherford. Your Commander.”

“I know who he is,” Ellana said, blushing.

Alistair’s smile turned mischievous. “You’re blushing!” He took a deep breath. “First of all, this,” he handed her a sealed envelope, “is for him. Please don’t open it. It’s personal, and I only say a little bit about you in there. It’s all nice, I swear.”

“And the second thing?” asked Ellana.

Alistair got up and capped her shoulders with his hands. “Be...gentle with Cullen. He’s a good man. He has a good heart, but he’s been through some horrible shit that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Part of it is my fault. Well, my wife’s fault, really, but ssh! Don’t tell anyone. Anyway. he likes you.” His voice grew softer. “He hasn’t liked anyone the way he likes you for a long, long time. Maybe ever. Don’t break his heart, Ellana. If you’re not serious about him, let him down as easy as you can.”

Ellana nodded.

Alistair opened the door for her. “Thanks for humoring me. And tell Cullen to come to Denerim sometime so we can catch up!”

“Yes, your Majesty,” she said.

“Yes, what?” he asked.

“Yes, Alistair.”

Chapter Text

Ellana entered the Chantry to the sound of Cullen’s voice. “It is not a matter for debate. There will be abominations among the mages, and we must be prepared.” She immediate started running towards him. Ellana knew he was unhappy, but that didn’t matter to her as much as him being alive did.

Josephine was disagreeing with him. “If we rescind the offer of an alliance, it makes the Inquisition look incompetent at best, tyrannical at worst.”

Just as she arrived, Cullen turned to her angrily. “What were you thinking, turning mages loose with no oversight?” he chastised her. “The Veil is torn open!”

“Cullen! You’re—” Ellana bit her lip, looked down, and started over. “I—I’ve decided to give them their freedom for now. If they prove later that they can’t handle it...I’ll trust you to impose restrictions.”

She had hoped that this concession on her part would show Cullen that she trusted his judgement, and that it would be enough to smooth things over with him. But he didn’t seem to recognize that she was trying to reconcile. “And how many lives will be lost if they fail? With the Veil broken, the threat of possession—”

I saw you die.

You told me you loved me and then begged me to end your life.

This is your blood on my clothes, on my skin, in my hair.

“I just told you that you, you personally, can impose restrictions on them if they do not conduct themselves in a trustworthy manner. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” she snapped.

Cullen shook his head dismissively at her before turning on Cassandra. “You were there, Seeker! Why didn’t you intervene?”

He doesn’t trust me.

I’ve been going out on missions for the Inquisition for weeks, calling the shots, and he was expecting Cassandra to what, babysit me? Keep me in line?

Cassandra coolly answered him. “While I may not completely agree with the decision, I support it. The sole point of Ellana’s mission was to gain the mages’ aid and that was accomplished.”

Dorian came up from behind and gently patted Ellana on the back in a show of support. “The voice of pragmatism speaks! And here I was just starting to enjoy the circular arguments.”

“Closing the Breach is all that matters,” Cassandra replied.

“We should look into the things you saw in this ‘Dark Future’,” said Leliana. “The assassination of Empress Celene? A demon army?”

Dorian squeezed Ellana’s drooping shoulders. “Sounds like something a Tevinter cult might do. Orlais falls, the Imperium rises. Chaos for everyone!”

“One battle at a time,” said Cullen, who had gone from looking frustrated at Ellana to looking hard at Dorian. “It’s going to take time to organize our troops and the mage recruits. Let’s take this to the War Room.” He looked at Ellana again. “Join us. None of this means anything without your Mark after all.”

Again with the Mark. Ellana bristled. “And here I thought I was going to just sit out the Breach. Go for a walk, take a nap….”

Cullen smiled at her for the first time in days. “What is it they say? No rest for the wicked?”

Dorian smirked. “I’ll skip the war council, but I would like to see this Breach up close, if you don’t mind.”

Ellana turned around and looked at Dorian. “You’re staying?” she asked with a wide grin.

“Oh, didn’t I mention?” Dorian replied. “The South is so charming and rustic. I just adore it to little pieces.”

Ellana squealed and almost tackled Dorian to the ground with a fierce hug. “There’s no one I’d rather be stranded in time with, future or present.”

Dorian mussed Ellana’s hair playfully. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, yes?”

Cullen looked from Ellana to Dorian and back. Then he cleared his throat. “I’ll begin preparations to march on the summit. Maker willing, the mages will be enough to grant us victory.

After the War Room meeting, where Ellana said very little and spent much of the time staring wide-eyed at Cullen, trying to burn images of him being alive over the ones of him being dead that were flashing through her mind, and where Cullen needed to constantly be prompted for answers because he seemed distracted by something, Ellana handed Cullen the letter from Alistair and hurried out of the room, where Dorian was waiting for her.

They were about to leave together when Cullen poked his head out of the door. “Dorian? Might I have a word with you?”

Ellana sighed, and Dorian said to Cullen, “Of course.”

“I have to...change my clothes anyway.” Ellana said quietly. “Talk to you later, Dorian.”

Dorian stepped inside the War Room and noticed that he was alone with Cullen. “Uh-oh.”

“Guilty conscience?” asked Cullen, standing by the fireplace.

“What do I have to feel guilty about, Commander?” asked Dorian, as he pulled out a chair, sat down, and crossed his legs at the knee.

“You’re very...physical...with the Herald,” Cullen said.

Dorian smiled. “Does that...bother you, Commander?”

Cullen had expected him to deny it, but here he was, shamelessly flaunting his relationship with Ellana. He cleared his throat. “I—uh…”

“Commander, I’m not interested in women that way,” Dorian asserted. “Ellana is an extraordinary woman. Brave, kind, clever, beautiful. I am very fond of her. But none of that will ever make me want to go to bed with her.” He took a deep breath. “I am not your competition. I am your ally.”

“My ally?” Cullen asked.

“Commander, Ellana had an extremely traumatic experience during our excursion through time,” he sighed.

“What?” Cullen asked, his voice full of concern. “Is she hurt? Why didn’t she—”

“Ellana didn’t tell you anything because you were too busy berating her for bringing the mages aboard to listen to her!” Dorian snapped. “Alexius did horrible things to people she cared about, and she didn’t want to make the same choices that he had.” He stood and clasped Cullen at the shoulder. “Forgive her, Commander. You’re hurting her more than you realize.”

~~~

Dear Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition, Defender of the Faith, Scourge of Blood Mages and Pretty Girls Everywhere, Etc.

Glad to see you’re doing alright for yourself. Hopefully the woman you’re working for now isn’t as much of an emasculating bitch as your last boss. Actually, come to think of it, I’m not sure who exactly you are working for, as the leadership of your Inquisition seems rather nebulous to define (see, I do read books! Where do you think I got nebulous from? Ha!). Based on reports from dear Leliana, it sounds like there are four women and you running that outfit, one of the women having only recently been cleared of suspicion for killing the Divine.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read Leliana’s description of her. The same Dalish girl you met back in Kirkwall that you spent ages mooning over? What are the chances?

When I arrived in Redcliffe, I was bombarded by reports of a “Herald of Andraste” running around doing nice things for people much like Elissa and I used to do before we got all important.

It’s her, isn’t it? Of course it is. It’s just your stupid luck that some pretty magical girl lands right back in your lap after you tried so hard to get rid of her. You poor bastard.

Would it that I were that lucky.

Maker, I miss Elissa.

If I know you, you’re probably already head over heels in love with her. If you are...remember, you’re not a Templar anymore. For once in your life, allow yourself to be happy. No more excuses.

Oh, and good luck with the quitting lyrium thing. For Andraste's sake, try not to kill yourself before this Breach thing is all over.

Denerim is so boring. Come visit me so it can become even more boring.

Your friend,

Alistair

~~~

Cullen folded up the letter Alistair had sent him and sat staring at the fireplace in the War Room, deep in thought. There was a knock at the door.

"Commander?" It was Lieutenant Shapeley.

Cullen put the letter away in the pocket of his trousers. “Come in, Lieutenant.”

The Lieutenant saluted Cullen. "None of Lady Lavellan's companions have seen her for several hours, Ser. They've been...expressing concerns about her well-being. Especially considering the incident in Redcliffe."

"Several hours?" asked Cullen as he practically jumped out of his armchair. "Why didn't this come to my attention sooner?"

"You said you didn't want to be disturbed, Ser," answered Shapeley. "I wouldn't have interrupted you just now, but The Seeker told me that I'd better."

Cullen sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "No one saw which way she went?"

"The Iron Bull said he thought he last saw her heading north. Should I send a search party?"

The hot springs. Cullen was sure of it. "No," he answered as he walked towards the door. "I think I know where to find her."

~~~

Cullen approached quietly, noting the change in the weather. The first buttercups were starting to spring up from the ground and a robin swooped down from the treetops to gather a beak full of twigs for his nest. But a sound that should not have been broke the idyll and as he looked up, Cullen saw Ellana in the distance.

She was almost entirely immersed in the water, which meant she was likely crouching or kneeling. Her head and shoulders were the only parts of her that were visible, and he could hear that she was weeping. Cullen gasped reflexively, and she turned her swollen face to him, covering her breasts with her hands. With a nod of her head, she beckoned to him, and he came running. "I thought you weren't going to ride to my rescue," she whispered.

"I lied," Cullen replied. "I will always come for you, silly girl."

She burst into fresh tears and laughed at the same time.

"How long have you been in there?" Cullen asked.

"A while. I wanted to wash the blood off—

Cullen remembered the blood from Neria’s hands and lips and how he kept washing his hands and face over and over for weeks to make the sensation leave.

"—but it feels like it will never go away," he finished for her.

Ellana hung her head. “Are you still cross with me, Commander?”

“Don’t—” whispered Cullen, closing his eyes. “I could never stay angry at you, Ellana.”

They were silent for a little while. Cullen looked around. “Where are your clothes?” he asked.

“I burnt them,” she replied.

Cullen gave her an odd look. “How were you planning on getting back with no clothes on?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead, I guess,” Ellana answered sheepishly.

“But you loved that dress!” exclaimed Cullen. I loved that dress.

“It wasn’t a dress. It was a mage robe,” Ellana corrected him.

“Whatever. Why would you do such a thing?” Cullen asked.

Ellana whispered. “It was covered in your blood, Cullen. You were...there. You called me a silly girl then, too.” You had also said that you loved me, but it probably isn't a good idea to bring that up at this moment, under the circumstances. “And then you asked me...to take you home.”

Cullen sighed. “Oh, Ellana!”

She started to cry again. “I held you while you died. I will have nightmares about that for the rest of my life!”

Ellana stood up and dropped her hands. Rivulets of warm water trickled between her breasts, stomach, and legs. “Cullen…” she moaned wantonly.

Maker’s breath, she is a goddess. And she is offering herself to me, wholeheartedly.

“Ellana…” Cullen reached out, grabbed her by the wrists and wrapped his arms around her, almost crushing her to him. It wasn’t until she was frantically trying to remove his armor and his lips were grazing her neck that he realized what was happening.

It was what he had been daydreaming about for weeks. Here she is, naked, warm, wet, and wanting me to take her...

But he saw too much of himself from Kinloch Hold in her to go through with it. He knew that if he made love to her now, in her traumatized state, that she would hate him for it later, and that he would also hate himself, for taking advantage of her in her suffering and for it causing him to lose her forever. He…

He...cared about her too much to let that happen.

But that didn’t mean it was going to be easy for him to turn her down. “Ellana, no,” he whispered as he gently took her hands off the clasps of his armor. “You’re not yourself.”

“But I want you!” she begged. “Please, Cullen! Don’t you want me?”

She looked up at him with those huge sparkling eyes of hers, her lips parted, her skin flushed with desire, and she caressed his cheek softly before drawing her fingertip to his ear and giving it a little flick. He closed his eyes and shuddered.

Maker, it isn’t fair.

Cullen drew a ragged breath, gently pushed her away, shrugged off his cloak, and wrapped it around her. “You’ll thank me later.”

~~~

A few minutes later, Cullen was carrying Ellana back to the Chantry while she was still wrapped up in his cloak. Naturally, this drew a lot of attention. “Nothing to see here! Move along! The Herald is...mildly ill...and needs rest. Please pray for her.”

The crowd parted for him, and he was able to take her to her bedroom, where he gently deposited her on the bed. Just like last time.

Ellana pulled her knees to her chest as Cullen tucked her in. “I don’t think they believed you,” she said.

“The only thing that matters to me,” Cullen replied, as he walked towards the exit, “is that you are all right.”

“You are truly the worst liar ever in the history of Thedas,” Ellana teased.

Cullen paused, turned, and said softly, “Well, in that case, I should tell you...that I hate you terribly and that I’m disappointed that you came back.” Then he shut the door and left to retire to his tent for the remainder of the evening.

On his way there, The Iron Bull stopped him. “You’re an oak, Commander,” he said, with an approving smile and a wink.

Cullen smiled back, turned, and rolled his eyes as he stiffly walked away. “Yes, there is something rather wooden about me, isn’t there?”

Chapter Text

Cullen looked up to see Lieutenant Shapeley standing in the doorway of the War Room, his arms laden with parcels.

“What’s all this?” asked Cullen.

“It’s everything you ordered from Val Royeaux, Ser,” Shapeley replied.

Cullen was incredulous. “It all arrived at the same time?”

Shapeley grunted under the weight of the packages. “It...certainly appears so, Commander.”

Cullen got up from his armchair and crossed in front of the War Table to help the Lieutenant, but it was too late. Shapeley’s strength gave out, and soon the boxes had tumbled on to the War Table, sending markers flying.

Cullen sighed.

“Um, I hope there wasn’t anything breakable—” Shapeley stammered.

Cullen just stared at him.

Shapeley gulped. “One hundred push-ups it is. Yes, Ser.” And he ran outside, leaving the Commander to pick up the scattered parcels.

Cullen neatly stacked the packages in the armchair and then set about re-setting the markers on the War Table.

“She should be returning from the Fallow Mire later today,” he mumbled to himself. “Any time now…”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Am I interrupting an important conversation?”

It was Sister Leliana. One of these days he’d stop jumping whenever she ambushed him. Maybe then she’d quit her infernal giggling. “No...I—I’m just a little nervous.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s silly of me. I shouldn’t even be doing this.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Leliana. “I’m sure she’ll—Oh! Hello, Josie!”

“Good morning.” Josephine said with a bright smile. “I heard people talking and I thought I was late for a meeting!” She looked over at the armchair. “Are those—”

“Yes!” answered Leliana excitedly. “isn’t it adorable?”

“What, she knows too?” Cullen cried, his ears turning bright red. “Maker’s breath, now all of Haven is going to know before Ellana does.”

“I promise to keep it secret,” said Josephine. “It will be so worth it, just to see her reaction!” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “How did you find out her size?”

Cullen groaned. “I had to ask Vivienne. Then she lectured me on my impropriety and told me that I was a Fereldan barbarian.”

“But she told you?” asked Josephine.

He nodded. “Afterwards she took me by the ear, led me to the statue of Andraste, and made me recite the Canticle of Benedictions.”

Sister Leliana’s eyes grew wide. “The whole thing?”

“No, thank the Maker, or I’d still be there now,” replied Cullen. It still would have been worth it, but he didn’t want to say it out loud for fear of the squealing that would surely follow.

The Chantry bells began to ring. Cullen froze. “Well, shit,” he said.

Leliana looked at the boxes on the armchair. “How much time do we have?”

Cullen started pacing the room in a panic. “I don’t know! It depends on how my scouts are feeling at the time. I really should just put the Chargers out there on rotation.”

“Bull will never let you hear the end of it,” retorted Josephine with a smirk. “Girlfriend duty, he’ll call it.”

“She is not my girlfriend,” Cullen protested.

Leliana and Josephine looked at Cullen, then looked at each other and burst into hysterical laughter.

“Stop it, you two!” Cullen exclaimed, blushing furiously. “You have to help me hide these!”

“Just put them in your tent!” exclaimed Leliana.

“What if she’s already out there?” asked Cullen.

“You can put them in my office,” offered Josephine.

Cullen shook his head vehemently. “She could be walking down the Chantry corridor right—”

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. “Are you having a meeting without me?”

“Ellana! Come in,” Cullen said without thinking.

The door opened. Ellana walked inside carrying two teacups and a pastry only to see Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana standing in front of the armchair by the fireplace with silly looking grins on their faces.

“What?” asked Ellana.

“Nothing!” the council said in unison.

Ellana paused, shrugged, then set her cup on the table before extending the other towards Cullen. “I brought you some Elderberry tea.”

Cullen stood there frozen. If I move, she might notice the parcels.

“It’s your favorite, right?” added Ellana.

Cullen nodded slowly. What should I do? She went through all that trouble...

“With milk and honey. Just the way you like it.”

Maker’s breath! It’s tea, damn it!

The Commander walked towards her while Leliana and Josephine surreptitiously closed the gap behind him. He took the steaming mug from Ellana’s hands and inhaled the sweet aroma of the hot liquid within.

“He’s got such a sweet tooth, you don’t even know!” exclaimed Ellana, rolling her eyes with a smile. “I got some chocolates once and he ate almost the whole box.” She gazed up at Cullen and he gazed down at her. They stood there smiling at each other for at least a minute before they remembered that there were other people in the room.

“I’m sorry. What were we talking about?” asked Cullen.

“Not what I came here to talk about,” replied Ellana. She took a deep breath.”I’ve decided that today is the day, so Cullen, you’d better get your men ready. Before I change my mind.”

The room fell silent. Cullen decided that he should speak first. “What made you decide?”

“Honestly?” Ellana asked with a smirk, “it was you, talking about how important I was because I was the only one could seal the Breach.” She sighed. “I—don’t want to just be the woman who can close the Breach. I want to be more.” Ellana opened her left hand and it crackled with green light. “More than my powers, more than this...mistake.”

“It’s not a mistake!” exclaimed Cullen.

“Everybody who knows anything about the Mark says it’s a mistake,” Ellana said quietly.

Cullen put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s not a mistake if it brought you here. You are so much more than the Mark on your hand. You’ve changed...countless lives and I believe your work is just beginning. I—the Inquisition needs you. I’m sorry if I ever made you think otherwise.”

He started to take his hand away, but she leaned into him. “Cullen, I’m scared. The last time I tried to seal the Breach, it almost killed me. Now?” She sighed. “Now I’ve got over a hundred lyrium-boosted mages pouring their magic into me. We don’t really know what will happen. What if...what if I...explode?”

Cullen snorted despite himself.

Ellana punched him in the stomach and ended up hitting her hand on his armor. “Ow! Must you always wear that stuff?”

“You can never be over-prepared in case of an attack,” said Cullen, stifling a giggle. He noticed that Leliana and Josephine had slipped out of the room, taking the packages with them, without Ellana noticing.

Thank the Maker.

“Well, it’s not funny!” Ellana snapped.

Cullen could no longer contain himself. “Boom!” he exclaimed, and the halls of the Chantry rung with his laughter.

Ellana’s mouth twitched. She never could stay angry at him.

~~~

He had offered to stand with her, to hold her other hand. He said he’d use his special Templar powers to keep her from exploding. She said that she thought he left the Templar Order.

He smiled gently at her and said, then we’ll explode together.

She had told him that she would be fine. That she would feel terribly guilty if he exploded too and that the Inquisition needed him.

And he asked her, well what about you?

She didn’t have an answer for him, just blushes and stammering. He blushed too, and said it was a silly question and that she’d better not explode because he had a surprise for her.

~~~

Ellana, Dorian, Cassandra, and Solas entered the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

Ellana’s Mark began to pulsate. Cassandra got the attention of the mages and directed them to Solas.

“Focus past the Herald! Let her will draw from you!” he called out, then he looked at Ellana one last time to make sure she was ready.

She nodded her assent and he gave the signal.

The mages concentrated, funneling their magic into Ellana. She could barely stand the enormous amount of power coursing through her body and, for a moment, she thought she really might explode after all. It didn’t help that she could hear Dorian cooing about how fascinating the Breach was and what a pity it was that they had to close it and Ellana could just imagine the look Cassandra probably gave him. Then she closed her eyes and walked towards the rift, chanting the Vir Tanadhal:

“Fly straight and do not waver…

Bend, but never break…

Together...we are stronger...than...the one!”

Ellana shot her left hand into the air, and with all that strength, she sealed the Breach, causing a blowback effect that knocked everyone, including her, to the ground.

As Ellana slowly got to her feet, she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Cassandra, smiling like she’d never seen her smile before. “You did it!”

~~~

That evening, the entire settlement of Haven was celebrating. From a nearby hillside, Ellana watched them.

She was waiting for someone.

“Is this seat taken?” Cullen asked. She turned around.

“Why are you carrying a picnic basket?” she asked with an amused expression on her face.

“I thought I would...um...ask you to join me in a,” Cullen cleared his throat, “private celebration.”

Ellana held out her hand to Cullen and gently tugged down so that he would sit next to her. “Just the two of us?” she asked with a mischievous expression on her face.

Cullen nodded.

“What will people say?” Ellana asked, feigning a scandalized expression.

“Nobody’s watching,” whispered Cullen.

Ellana leaned in towards Cullen, just in time for him to look down into the basket. She very narrowly avoided hitting the back of his head with her teeth. “I brought dinner,” he said. “And a present.” He smiled. “Which one do you want first?”

“I…” Ellana said, “am starving.”

~~~

Cullen sighed with a smile, “I was hoping that you were going to go for the present first. So I could get giving it to you over with.”

Ellana sucked on her fingers, closing her eyes in bliss. “That was amazing. Either way it’s a win for me.”

Cullen stared at her as she licked and sucked the grease and crumbs off her fingers. He wasn’t sure if he was disgusted or aroused. It may have been both. She turned to him and stared back with an exaggerated look of feigned shock on her face . Then she took his hand and playfully drew one of his fingers into her mouth. And sucked.

Aroused. It was aroused. Cullen moaned involuntarily.

“Clan Lavellan doesn’t waste food,” Ellana said matter-of-factly, after she dropped his hand unceremoniously. “We’d never know when we could get a meal like that again.”

She truly has no idea what she does to me. It was getting dark, so Ellana couldn’t see how much Cullen was blushing. But his heart was beating so hard he was sure she must hear it.

“Did you pack anything to wash this down?” she asked with her pirate’s smile.

~~~

“So, what’s the surprise?” Ellana asked.

“Here,” Cullen said, handing her a large, but surprisingly light parcel. “I hope you like it.”

Ellana tore away the wrapping with shameless abandon. Cullen couldn’t help but laugh at her unchecked glee. And then she found it.

She gasped, “Oh, Cullen! It’s beautiful!” She pulled out the brand new mage robe that Cullen had gotten for her. “Violet plush fustian velvet, silverite, and...are those dragon scales?” She looked up at him in awe. “This must have cost you a fortune.”

It had cost him a month’s salary. Many men had spent less on engagement rings.

“It matches your eyes,” Cullen replied softly. “I thought that...since I can’t be out there to protect you...that this is the next best thing. D—do you like—”

Cullen was interrupted by Ellana wrapping him in a fierce embrace and leaving a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“Is—is it okay if I go try it on?” she asked. Cullen nodded and she ran off.

“Totally worth it,” he whispered.

~~~

When Ellana stepped out of the Chantry in her brand new armor, Cassandra was waiting for her.

“Solas confirms the heavens are scarred but calm. The Breach is sealed. We’ve reports of lingering rifts and many questions remain, but this was a victory. Word of your heroism has spread.”

Ellana smiled. “You know how many were involved. Luck put me at the center.”

Cassandra smiled back. “A strange kind of luck. I’m not sure if we need more or less. But you’re right. This was a victory of alliance. One of the few in recent memory. With the Breach closed, that alliance will need new focus.”

The bells that hung outside Haven’s gates, the ones only to be used in times of emergency, began to ring. From a distance, Ellana could see a massive force moving over the mountains.

“What the—we must get to the gates!” exclaimed Cassandra.

Ellana, Dorian, and Varric joined her, and together the four of them ran to the gates of Haven.

“Never a dull moment for Southerners, is there?” quipped Dorian.

“Stop talking so much, you’ll run out of breath!” yelled Cassandra.

“You’re talking just as much as I am!” objected Dorian.

“I can run up a flight of stairs without wheezing!” snapped Cassandra.

“She’s got you there, Sparkler,” said Varric.

Cullen was at the gates already waiting for them. Ellana couldn’t help but marvel at the stamina required to run as far as he did as fast as he did, in his armor.

“Cullen?” asked Cassandra.

“One watchguard reporting,” he said. “It’s a massive force, the bulk over the mountain.” He almost wanted to laugh. It had been the ‘girlfriend duty’ post that Josephine had teased him about.

“Under what banner?” asked Josephine.

“None,” answered Cullen.

“None?” Josephine asked, shocked.

There was a flash of light, then a pounding at the heavy wooden doors.

A voice spoke. “I can’t come in unless you open!”

Ellana opened the doors and ran outside.

A lone Venatori soldier strolled towards her, then collapsed to the ground, dead. Behind him was a pale young man in a wide-brimmed hat, armed with daggers. Cullen immediately drew his sword and interposed himself between Ellana and the strange boy.

“I’m Cole,” the young man said. “I came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you.” He paused, as if he realized that he was stating the obvious. “You...probably already know that.”

“What is this?” Ellana asked, “What’s going on?”

“The Templars come to kill you,” Cole replied calmly.

Cullen was furious. “Templars! Is this the Order’s response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?”

Cole cringed in Cullen’s presence. Ellana put her hand on Cullen’s sword arm, silently telling him to sheathe his weapon.

After Cullen put his sword away, Cole seemed to relax a little. “The Red Templars went to the Elder One. You know him? He knows you. You took his mages.” He pointed towards a mountaintop opposite Haven. “There.”

The first figure that came into view was a Templar with dark hair and sallow skin wearing armor that seemed to be made almost entirely of red lyrium. He was soon followed by a monstrosity that almost defied description. Like a darkspawn, but not a darkspawn. He appeared to have at one time been human, but he was about the size of a Pride demon. His body...lengthened...in ways the human body was not meant to be stretched, and his skin was distributed in all the wrong places.

“I know that man...but this Elder One…” Cullen remarked.

“He’s very angry that you took his mages,” said Cole.

Ellana’s hand slipped to her side to grip Cullen’s tightly. She turned to her Commander. “Cullen? Give me a plan. Anything!”

Cullen replied, “Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle.” He squeezed her hand back. “Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you can!”

And then Cullen made the first of the three most difficult decisions of his life. Coincidentally, two of them would take place on this day. He let go of Ellana’s hand, and he unleashed that which he feared more than anything in his life.

Thus far.

“Mages! You—you have sanction to engage them,” he shouted, as he again drew his sword. “That is Samson. He will not make it easy!” Cullen raised his sword skyward. “Inquisition! With the Herald! For your lives! For all of us!”

~~~

Cullen had ordered Ellana to defend the Northern trebuchet. It was a strange thing, him giving the orders for once. She liked the change of pace, and this was his world after all. If anyone knew how to fight Templars, it was a former Templar. She trusted him with her life. Completely.

When she, Dorian, Cassandra, and Varric arrived at the Northern trebuchet, its small contingent of soldiers had been swarmed by...things that had once been men, but who had become red lyrium-powered horrors. Unlike normal Templars, it appeared that negating her magic wasn’t their concern.

Tearing her limb from limb, however, seemed to be high on their list of priorities, however capable they remained of rational thought.

But Ellana was in capable hands. Other than Cullen, there was no other warrior that was more of a force of nature on the battlefield than Cassandra Pentaghast. Even The Iron Bull was a little intimidated by her. While Varric picked off stragglers on the edges, Dorian and Ellana rained down destruction upon their enemies with fire and lightning. Cassandra darted from foe to foe, knocking them away from the mages, defending them with her very life, and soon they’d been able to give the soldiers time to calibrate the trebuchet, readying it to fire on their adversaries.

More Red Templars clustered around them. Ellana and her team fought to keep them off the soldiers. After that wave had been eradicated, the soldiers at the Northern trebuchet fired.

“They felt that!” said one of the soldiers. “We’ll reload—you get to the other trebuchet. It isn’t firing!”

She arrived to find the Southern trebuchet’s entire crew slaughtered and the area completely overrun by Red Templars.

“Well, shit,” said Dorian, lighting about five Templars on fire simultaneously.

“Do any of you know how to work this thing?” asked Ellana, using a shocking attack to keep the Templars from stepping out of Dorian’s flames.

“Don’t look at me,” said Varric, who delivered a head shot to a Templar who was just about to eviscerate Dorian.

“Thank you!” Dorian called out.

“Just turn that crank in the center to aim,” replied Cassandra, slicing an arc before her with her longsword, felling three flaming and shocked-in-place Red Templars. “When you’re ready to fire, spin that wheel on the right to apply the necessary force!”

When all had fallen, Ellana took to the trebuchet and turned the crank as hard and as fast as she could while any stragglers were held off by Cassandra, Dorian, and Varric.

Ellana fired the trebuchet and hit the opposite peak, causing an avalanche that buried the Red Templars. Cullen would be so proud. She smiled.

At least, she did until the unholy scream of a high dragon sounded; its only warning before it fired on the Southern trebuchet and sent Ellana flying backwards.

“Well, shit!” exclaimed Cassandra.

“Today...is now well beyond making sense,” said Dorian.

Ellana ran towards the gates. She had to find out what her orders were from her Commander. But there were people who needed her help. Thanks to her, Harritt the blacksmith escaped a brush with oblivion as they made their way to Cullen.

She could see that he had sent the rest of his soldiers ahead of him and was waiting for her. Alone. “Come on!” he called out. “Through here.”

After she entered the gates, he bolted them behind her. “We need everyone back to the Chantry!” Cullen shouted as he headed up the stairs. “It’s the only building that might hold against...that beast!”

Is it an archdemon? Cullen wasn’t quite sure. But he hoped not. They only had one Grey Warden at their disposal, and if Blackwall failed to kill it, then they were all doomed.

He found himself wondering what Alistair would do.

Alistair would likely do whatever Queen Elissa told him to. In retrospect, Cullen couldn’t blame him. In all of Ferelden, there was no one more cunning than the Wolf Queen.

Cullen turned and looked at Ellana. She was a clever woman. Brave. The most powerful mage he’d ever seen. Except for the exploding thing earlier in the day, she was totally fearless. He hoped it would be enough. “At this point...just make them work for it.”

Ellana’s heart sank at his words. He doesn’t think they will make it. She looked into his eyes, and she thought she saw him hesitate for just a moment, before he turned his back and led the retreat to the Chantry.

Ellana worked to rescue the stragglers; the Templar Lysette, Seggritt the merchant, and Threnn the quartermaster were plucked from the jaws of death as they ran to the Chantry. When she opened the door, Cole and a badly wounded Chancellor Roderick were ushering the survivors inside.

“Move!” cried out the Chancellor, holding his abdomen. “Keep going! The Chantry is your shelter!”

Roderick collapsed in Cole’s arms. As he led Roderick to a place where he’d be more comfortable, he explained. “He tried to stop a Templar. The blade went deep. He’s going to die.”

“What a charming boy,” quipped the Chancellor.

Cullen ran to meet her. “Ellana!” Then he lowered his voice. “Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us.”

“I’ve seen an archdemon,” said Cole. “I was in the Fade, but it looked like that.”

“Well, shit,” said Ellana.

“I don’t care what it looks like!” said Cullen. “It has cut a path for that army. They’ll kill everyone in Haven.”

“The Elder One doesn’t care about the village,” replied Cole. “He only wants the Herald.”

Ellana looked at Cullen, then turned to Cole. “If I offer myself in exchange for their lives, will it save them?”

“Ellana, no!” cried Cullen. “I won’t let you—” he whispered, “it’s...suicide.”

“He wants to kill you,” said Cole. “No one else matters, but he’ll crush them. Kill them anyway. I don’t like him.”

Cullen took Ellana’s hand. “There are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was that avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide.”

“We’re overrun,” Ellana replied. “To hit the enemy we’d...bury Haven.”

“We’re dying, Ellana.” Cullen caressed her cheek with a gloved hand. “But we can decide how. Many don’t get that choice.”

“Yes, that!” It was Cole. “Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies.”

“There is a path,” Roderick wheezed. “You wouldn’t know it unless you made the summer pilgrimage. As I have.” He took a labored breath. “The people...can escape. She must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could...tell you.”

“Cullen?” Ellana asked. “Can you lead them out?”

He nodded. “And when the mountain falls?” Cullen asked. “What about you?”

A lone tear rolled down Ellana’s cheek. “I—Cullen...stay safe. Protect the people. That’s an order.”

Cullen drew a ragged breath. “Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way…”

Ellana smiled and more tears spilled down her cheeks. “Go.”

It was at that time that Cullen Rutherford made the second of the most difficult decisions of his life.

At the same time that he finally realized that he was in love with her, that it was more than mere infatuation, more than desire, he had to let Ellana go.

Cullen swallowed hard, then turned, and walked away. It felt like his chest had been torn open, his heart exposed. The pain was excruciating, more than any wound he had ever known. “Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry! Move!”

He had to fight to keep a brave face. Though his eyes stung and blurred, he could not let them weep. The Inquisition needed him to be brave, strong. He needed to protect them.

For her.

~~~

Ellana directed the final stragglers to the back of the chantry. Finally, with the last survivor inside, she shut the doors.

Cole helped Chancellor Roderick to the exit. The Chancellor turned to Ellana. “Herald...if you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, then I pray for you.”

Lieutenant Shapeley ran up to her. “Herald, a note from the Commander!” He handed the slip of paper to her and ran after the others.

The hastily scrawled note read:

“Sent soldiers ahead to load the trebuchets. Keep the Elder One’s attention until we’re above the tree line. I’ll set off a signal flare to let you know it’s safe.

Let it hear you. It’s the only way we will have a chance.”

There was a number of scribbled and crossed out words beneath that Ellana couldn’t make out. She stuffed the note in her bodice and opened the doors.

Ellana ran outside to find that there was one trebuchet left standing. One chance to get it right. There were no Red Templars to be found. It was...eerily quiet.

The trebuchet had been loaded, but not aimed. She turned the wheel hard until the payload was aimed at Haven.

And that’s when the dragon began to swoop down out of the sky.

Ellana looked at the people who had become some of her closest friends. “Move! Now!”

Dorian turned to her. “Are you sure?”

The dragon screamed.

“Yes,” answered Ellana. Cassandra and Varric took off. “Dorian...if I don’t make it...tell Cullen…”

Dorian nodded and ran after the others. Just in time to avoid getting hit by a ball of dragon fire that tossed Ellana around like a child’s toy.

And from out of the flames...came the Elder One.

Ellana scrambled to her feet, only to find herself flanked by the dragon. It roared and approached her menacingly, but at one word from its master, it backed away.

“Enough!” shouted the Elder One before turning his attention to her. “Pretender. You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more.”

“Really?” replied Ellana. “Well, you are ugly. And you smell. And you have shit taste in lackeys. I mean, Alexius? Really? That was pathetic. And now you’re stuck with the Templars. Ha. Ha. If you expect me to quiver in fear at your feet, you’re going to be sorely disappointed!”

The more I talk, the more time I am giving Cullen.

“Words mortals often hurl at the darkness,” said the Elder One. “Once they were mine. They are always lies.”

“No, I am pretty sure that you are physically repulsive,” retorted Ellana. “When was the last time you looked in a mirror without breaking it?”

The fact that he was tolerating her sass just so he could keep issuing vague threats was proof of his enormous ego. This creature loves to talk about himself.

“Know me,” he said. “Know what you have pretended to be. Exalt the Elder One. The will that is Corypheus!”

“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” asked Ellana. “Because it doesn’t ring a bell.”

“You. Will. Kneel,” he growled.

Ellana laughed. “If I had a gold piece for every time I heard that phrase…” She stopped abruptly, and her voice took on a ferocious edge. “You will have no such satisfaction, monster.”

“You will resist,” Corypheus observed. “you will always resist. It matters not.” He held an orb in his claw. It crackled with magical energy. “I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now.”

He reached towards her. The Mark on her hand started to pulsate out of control. She had just gotten used to the feeling. It had become a pleasant sensation. But now, the old pain returned, and it felt like she was holding her hand in a fire.

“It is your fault, ‘Herald.’” Corypheus said menacingly. “You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose.”

He intensified whatever power he was aiming at the Mark on her hand, but she remained defiant. “Oh, I ruined your widdle tea party?” she screamed. “Boo! Hoo! Go cry to your mother!”

“I do not know how you survived,” Corypheus explained. “But what marks you as ‘touched’, what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens.”

Again the pain intensified. It was so strong, that her knees gave out. The Dragon approached from behind her.

“And you used the Anchor to undo my work,” said Corypheus. “The gall!”

Keep talking, idiot.

“Your work must be pretty pathetic if it could be undone by a single elf!” Ellana shouted. “How long did you plan this again?”

Corypheus finally lost his patience. He strode up to her and picked her up by the wrist of her marked hand so that she dangled a significant height above the ground. No matter where I land, it is going to hurt.

“I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the Empire in person,” said Corypheus. “I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years, I was confused. No more.”

Ellana laughed again. “It took you a thousand years? You’re rather slow on the uptake, aren’t you?”

Corypheus continued, “I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world. Beg that I succeed. For I have seen the Throne of the Gods, and it was empty!”

And with that, Corypheus threw Ellana into the trebuchet. Hard. She slid to the ground.

Cullen…I don’t know if I can hold him off much longer…

“The Anchor is permanent,” observed Corypheus as he slowly approached her. “You have spoiled it with your stumbling.”

Ellana reached for the closest weapon in reach. A longsword. Wonderful.

“So be it,” Corypheus growled. “I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation—and God—it requires.”

Behind him, Cullen’s signal flare flew triumphantly into the sky.

“And you,” he continued. “I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die.”

Ellana straightened, and held the sword in front of her. “You first.”

And with that, she kicked the trebuchet’s trigger. The missile flew into the air and hit its mark, sending an avalanche crashing down towards Haven. As Corypheus and the Dragon both turned to look behind them, Ellana made a desperate run for it. Corypheus had to flee or be buried, and his dragon grasped him in its talons and flew away.

“I’m coming, Cullen! I’m—”

The ground gave way beneath Ellana’s feet, and she fell.

Chapter Text

Cullen set off the signal flare to let Ellana know that the people of Haven had gotten away safely, praying that she was alive to see it, able enough to set off the trebuchet and...clever?

No.

Cunning?

No.

Lucky.

Lucky enough to escape an Archdemon, an ancient darkspawn magister, and his army of Red Templars. Varric was right. This was going to take a miracle.

Maybe it would be better if I didn't think so precisely about the odds she faces in her efforts towards saving the people who just a few short months ago spat on her and called for her death.

And she had saved him by charging him with protecting the Inquisition in her absence. She believed in him and he would not fail her, even if she didn't live to see him—STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT. He pressed his hands against his temples in an effort to drive the horrible thought from his mind.

Cullen was quite sure he’d never met anyone so unselfishly brave as that silly Dalish girl.

Brave, forgiving, kind, a joy to be around.

Heart-stoppingly beautiful.

The way he found himself thinking about her...it felt so distant. Like one would of a goddess.

Remote.

Untouchable.

Forbidden.

Like the feel of her delicate fingers in his mouth as she playfully fed him some chocolate the Iron Bull had ordered for her as a gesture of goodwill after she agreed to hire his company. The charge that shot through his body as she tentatively stroked the scar on his upper lip and told him that it made him even more handsome (her words). The tingling sensation of her breath on his ears as she whispered a dirty joke she'd learned from Dorian.

He shouldn’t have wanted her the way that he did. He shouldn’t have been thinking about the sounds that he wanted to coax from her lips as he made love to her. He shouldn’t have been thinking about what their children would look like. He shouldn’t have been thinking about forever.

A great crash echoed from the mountain below and Cullen looked down to see Haven get buried under the avalanche.

Andraste preserve him, she was down there.

The Elder One's Archdemon screamed hideously as it made off with its master grasped in its mighty talons, causing Cullen's blood to run cold. They were retreating. She’d done it. She’d saved them. And she’d likely given her life to do it.

It wasn’t until the Archdemon was out of range that Cullen realized that he was still screaming; an inhuman-sounding howl that came from the very depths of his being. He had never told her how she made him feel.

And what of it?

She was the Herald of Andraste!

And what am I? A failed, lyrium-addicted virgin ex-Templar.

What could I possibly offer her?

Stop talking about what you can or can't offer her. You are unworthy of her.

There was a whisper, just at the edge of his hearing. That strange boy who warned of the Elder One's attack. Cole. Cullen strained to hear him...

"Laying, languid, lustful. His armor presses into me as he leans forward to give me a forbidden kiss. How I long to open my mouth to his, my first love, to feel him closer, deeper, harder. But he thinks me asleep and wants to let me go. So I let him go."

Cullen could not push the thoughts out of his mind anymore.

The way her eyes light up when I speak to her. The glow of her skin, the brightness of her smile. The way she always finds a reason to touch me and the way her touch makes me feel like more than I am. The way she tries to provoke me, whether it be to fluster or to flatter. The way she goes out of her way to make me laugh or smile.

The way she looked in that dress she wore when she returned from Val Royeaux. The way she worried that her short hair would make her look boyish, even as her corset revealed her tempting curves and rounded breasts.

The sound of her voice when she moaned my name at the hot springs. The way it made me feel when she playfully suckled my finger.

The way she seeks me out first, and confides in me when she returns from her journeys, tells me her troubles, listens to mine.

Her fearlessness. Her tenacity. Her unshakable sense of what is right, even if it means disagreeing with me.

I love her.

I have to tell her.

There was a commotion right outside the borders of the camp. "Here they come," someone called out. Cullen rushed over, ready to hold her, to tell her how he felt, even if it meant humiliation and rejection and heartbreak. The words Ellana, I love you teased at his lips as he beheld the approaching figures.

Wait.

Why are there only three silhouettes coming towards us?

There is Cassandra, the tallest of them, just barely, over Dorian. Ellana was next in height before Varric, so why the gap?

Cullen saw the outline of Bianca strapped to Varric's back.

Where is Ellana's Lightning staff that comically towers above her?

Where is Ellana?

People were watching, whispering, gasping, putting things he could not and did not want to face together. When Cassandra was in reach, he grabbed her by the wrist, perhaps a little too forcefully.

"Where is she?" he asked. He was shocked at the ferocity and desperation in his voice.

Cassandra was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. There were tears in her eyes; tears of anger, frustration, and something else that Cullen wasn't used to seeing there: fear. She wrenched free from his grip and silently retired to the tent the troops had erected for her.

Varric had already made himself scarce. He would likely never admit it, but the dwarf probably had the most tender heart of all of them, and like everyone else who had met Ellana, was very fond of her.

It was Dorian who sought him out. "Commander, a word?"

Cullen nodded and stepped aside with the Tevinter mage, out of the earshot of the others. "Where is Ellana?" he asked, tentatively, as if he were afraid of the answer.

Dorian laid a gentle hand on Cullen's shoulder. "I stayed behind as long as I could. The last I saw her, she was getting flanked by the dragon and that...thing. Did she do it? Did she manage to spring the trap?"

Cullen nodded.

Dorian smiled. “I knew she would.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Good girl, Ellana.” A tear rolled down Dorian’s cheek as he opened his eyes again. “She saved us all. You must be very proud.”

Cullen’s eyes grew wide with the effort of holding back tears, then he ran his hands roughly through his hair, and began to pace like a caged beast. "I should not have left her. I was supposed to protect her. I. Failed. Her." He tried to rush forward, back towards Haven, but Dorian stopped him.

"No! You were supposed to save everyone else. You did that. Do you think she didn’t want to ask you to stay with her? She knew you would not have been able to refuse her. She sent you away...to save you." Dorian pulled Cullen in for a hug. "Forgive my sentimentality, Commander. We Tevinters are a rather sensitive people. And I think she would do the same if she were here. Well, perhaps with a bit more tongue."

The mage released him and smiled at the blush that greeted him. "Ellana adores you, Commander. She believes in you. And right now...she needs you to believe in her."

~~~

It had been hours, well past any rational hope that she could have pulled through. The survivors of Haven huddled around campfires; some told the stories of how the Herald of Andraste had inspired them to join the Inquisition, some leaned into others for comfort, and many just simply wept.

For his part, Cullen stood at the entrance to the makeshift camp, in vigil, alone. A bitterly cold wind whipped his face, and if he had been thinking about his own personal comfort, he probably would have been concerned that he was starting to lose feeling in his toes.

Either she will come back to me or I will die in the snow waiting for her. It is as simple as that.

Do you hear me, Maker?

He was unsure as to whether anyone had ever successfully bargained with the Maker for the life of another. Maybe it was in one of the Dissonant Verses. But he was desperate. At that point, he was willing to try anything.

Maybe emotional blackmail and making vague threats to a notoriously fickle supreme deity isn’t the best course of action. At that point, all he could do was cling to that last shred of hope like a drowning man clings to a rock in a raging river. Cullen fell to his knees.

“Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,
I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm.
I shall endure.
What you have created, no one can tear asunder.”

Over and over he chanted. Until he heard it. A distinct crunching sound, too staggering and random for an animal to make, drifted to his ears on the wind. Am I imagining it? He opened his eyes.

In the distance, he saw a faintly flickering green light.

As he ran, he knew he could have been propelling himself towards certain death. What if what he saw was a rift in the Fade with demons pouring out of it? It didn’t matter. Cullen swallowed his fear. If there was even the slightest chance that it was Ellana, that reaching her would be the difference between her living or dying, then it was worth it.

It was only when his eyes began to blur that he realized he was crying. “Ellana!”

The petite figure in violet said only one word, the sweetest sound he could have imagined, “Cullen…”

Exhausted, she collapsed in his arms.

“Maker’s breath, where have you been?” Cullen whispered as he rocked her in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I thought I’d lost you!”

“Commander?”

Cullen pulled his gloves off with his teeth. He had to touch her, run his fingers through her hair, stroke her lips with his thumb, so he knew she was real. “I don’t know what I would have done if—if you—”

“Commander?”

“Oh, Maker!” Cullen was overwhelmed with joy. “Thank you!” He kissed her eyelids. “Thank you!” He kissed her neck. “I love you, Ellana,” he whispered, and kissed her on the mouth.

“CULLEN!”

It was Cassandra.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m sure Ellana will appreciate the sentiment when she’s conscious. For now, we’d better get her to a healer’s tent. She’s not out of the woods yet.”

Cullen nodded quickly, got to his feet, and carried her back to camp. On the way there, he turned to the Seeker. “Don’t you DARE tell anyone.”

Cassandra smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

~~~

When Ellana started to regain consciousness, she found herself naked, on a double cot covered in blankets, and wrapped in someone’s arms. Someone who was also naked. And smelled of spices.

“Creators!” she whispered.

“Ssh!” Dorian gently admonished. “Or Mother Giselle will come. I almost suffocated myself hiding from her the last time she made her rounds!”

“Dorian!” she whispered “What are you doing here?”

“You had nearly frozen to death,” explained Dorian. “Believe it or not, crawling into bed in the altogether with another person is supposed to increase one’s chances of not dying in such circumstances.”

She stared at him.

“Not who you expected to wake up naked with, eh?” Dorian asked with a wink.

Ellana blushed. “I—it’s not that I’m not grateful. Thank you, for saving my life—”

“My love, that was Cullen. He waited for you like a faithful Mabari.” Dorian frowned. “It’s...more romantic than it sounds. He would have been here himself but he wasn’t sure if he could keep certain...parts of him in check. So he asked me. He said that I was the only other person in the world that he’d ever want in bed with you. Such a flatterer! Don’t know why he’s still single.”

Ellana snorted.

Dorian smiled. “Now I know my girl’s back. I think you're all right. Your robes are underneath the cot, so I would suggest putting some clothes on and rescuing your advisors from killing each other. They’ve been at it for hours!”

“What? Oh, no!” Ellana jumped out of the cot, grabbed her robes, and started dressing herself.

Just then, they heard a matronly Orlesian voice outside the tent. “Madame Herald, are you awake?”

“Shit!” whispered Dorian, who pulled the blankets over his head and laid back down to avoid detection.

She had just managed to pull her boots back on when Mother Giselle entered the tent. “Get back into bed, young lady. You need your rest.”

Ellana sat down on the edge of the cot, narrowly missing Dorian. She could hear voices coming from outside the tent.

“What would you have me tell them?” It was Cullen. “This isn’t what we asked them to do!”

“We cannot simply ignore this, we must find a way!” That was definitely Cassandra.

“And who put you in charge?” snapped Cullen. “We need a consensus or we have nothing!”

“Please, we must use reason!” Josephine chimed in. “Without the infrastructure of the Inquisition, we’re hobbled.”

“It’s can’t come from nowhere!” Cullen objected.

“She didn’t say it could!” argued Leliana.

“Enough!” shouted Cassandra. “This is getting us nowhere!”

Well, if I hadn’t been awake before, I would be now.

Well, we’re agreed on that much!” Cullen snarled.

It was shocking to Ellana, hearing her advisors bicker like this, especially Cullen. The only time she’d heard him sound comparatively angry was when he quarreled with her over going to Redcliffe to meet the rebel mages.

Something was wrong. In general, yes, but with Cullen in particular.

Ellana turned to the Reverend Mother. “How long has this been going on?” she asked.

Mother Giselle sat next to Ellana. This time, Dorian wasn’t so lucky. “Oof!” came the sound from under the blanket.

Ellana’s eyes widened. “Sorry. Indigestion.”

The older woman smiled and gestured outside. “It has been going on for quite some time. They have that luxury, thanks to you. The enemy could not follow, and with time to doubt, we turn to blame. Infighting may threaten as much as this Corypheus.”

“If they’re arguing over what we do next, I need to be there,” said Ellana.

“Another heated voice won’t help,” replied the Reverend Mother. “Even yours. Perhaps, especially yours. Our leaders struggle because of what we survivors witnessed. We saw our defender stand, and fall, and now we have seen her return. The more your enemy is beyond us, the more miraculous your actions appear., and the more our trials seem ordained. That is hard to accept, no? What we have been called to endure, what we perhaps, must come to believe?”

“I...escaped the avalanche,” replied Ellana. “Barely, perhaps, but I didn’t die.”

“Of course!” said Mother Giselle. “And the dead cannot return from across the Veil. But the people know what they saw, or perhaps what they needed to see. The Maker works both in the moment, and how it is remembered. Can we truly know the Heavens are not with us?”

Ellana nodded slowly. “Mother Giselle, this all sounds very inspiring, but, I don’t know how it can apply to me. I’m Dalish! What would your Maker want with me?”

Ellana got up and walked away to clear her head, but was only confronted with the sight of her advisors, who had become her friends, looking dejected and defeated.

Then, Mother Giselle emerged from the tent, and began to sing from the Chant of Light. Soon, Sister Leliana began to sing with her. After that, the floodgates opened. People from all around, who had come from nations all over Thedas were united by the Chant, and many of them knelt at Ellana's feet. She could hear Cullen’s voice carrying over them. It was so beautiful, that she wanted to cry. She had no idea he could sing. So fervent, so passionate! She would be lying if she didn’t feel just a little jealous that he was singing to the Maker.

If only she knew that he was singing because of her.

After the Chant was through, Mother Giselle whispered to Ellana with no small amount of satisfaction, “An army needs more than an enemy. It needs a cause.”

Creators, what has that shemlen gotten me into?

Chapter Text

Just as Ellana was about to approach Cullen, to thank him for saving her life, Solas tapped her on the shoulder. “A word?”

He led her to a clearing, lit a standing torch with magefire, then spoke. “The humans have not raised one of our people so high for ages beyond counting. Their faith is hard-won, lethallan. Worthy of pride, save one detail.”

Ellana stood at his side and tilted her head curiously. “What is it? What’s wrong, hahren?”

Solas took a deep breath. “The threat Corypheus wields...the orb he carried...it is ours!”

“Creators!” Ellana whispered in shock.

“You have no idea how right you are,” replied Solas. “Corypheus used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave. We must find out how he survived. And we must prepare for their reaction when they learn the orb is of our people!”

Horror seized Ellana as the implications began to make themselves clear. An elven weapon was used to murder the Divine and plunge Thedas into chaos. The Andrastians had gone on Exalted Marches for far less. There were so few of the People left as it was.

Were the humans to find out, the entire race of elves could very well be slaughtered to extinction.

Ellana took a deep breath to calm herself. So much was happening to her all at once that it was making her head spin. “All right,” she asked. “What is the orb and how do you know about it?”

Solas paused, then answered her. “Such things were foci, said to channel power from our Gods. Some were dedicated to specific members of our pantheon.”

“Which one?” asked Ellana.

“Pardon?” asked Solas.

“Which member of our pantheon was this orb dedicated to? Do you know?”

Solas shook his head. “All that remains are references in ruins and faint visions of memory in the Fade. Echoes of a dead empire. But however Corypheus came to it, the orb is elven. With it, he threatens the heart of human faith.”

Ellana’s eyes widened. Solas was right. Here was real, physical proof of the Creators’ existence and their power. This proof would make much of their Chant a lie. It was almost too much to take, and it was all on Ellana’s shoulders. What made things even more difficult was that she knew that she could never tell Cullen. His faith was from where he drew his strength. If it was revealed to be false, it could destroy him. But if she could keep it secret, or at least make herself invaluable to the survival of Thedas, perhaps it would not matter in the long run. “Didn't you see? The people trust me implicitly!” she asked hopefully.

“Faith tends to make martyrs of its champions,” Solas replied gravely. “Whatever the case, that trust cannot grow in the wilderness. You will need every advantage. Luckily, I have a solution.”

Ellana nodded and listened intently to Solas’ plan.

“By attacking the Inquisition, Corypheus has changed it. Changed you. Scout to the North. Be their guide. There is a place that waits for a force to hold it. There is a place where the Inquisition can build...grow…”