Thinking about a mage Rook, left all alone in the Lighthouse after everyone else has moved back home. Rook, exiled from their city because they didn't save it, alone with just the Caretaker and the wisps.
Remember how sad some parts of the Lighthouse looked to begin with, like that single chair at the dining hall table?
Rook finds themselves wandering the library. They find books that contain information on magic that hasn't been seen in the living world for centuries if not longer, ancient magic practiced by the elves or the Evanuris.
Rook is left alone with these books, aimlessly reading through them and learning ways to adjust their own magic, alter the way they cast it and use it.
Just think about the secrets they discover, both good...and bad.
Good riddance to that mess: Thank the Dread Wolf we’re done with the Mage-Templar conflict
(because magic in Thedas is more interesting this way)
Okay the people who love conflict have won and I am going to talk about this now lol
I've decided to stick within the framework of the world/story for this particular post, because I think you could talk about the issues with the mages/templars in connection with how they relate to real-life groups for an entire essay AT LEAST, and I want to focus on magic here, so I don't think it's that germane to the discussion. If you all want to talk about that later, I can put it on the pile.
It turns out that Jenny Nicholson was 100% right about the efficacy of numbered lists on the internet, so this essay will be hybridized into a list. Here are the reasons I'm glad the mage-templar conflict is gone and hope it never returns:
It limits storytelling avenues
I understand how they arrived at this dichotomy as the logical extrapolation of a minority of people in Thedas being born with magic BUT it's very boring and it doesn't facilitate interesting stories. If you have this strict system and hierarchy that means that every mage has to live in the tower or they're a) a criminal or b) Dalish, that seriously limits the kind of characters you can make who are mages, which is dull as both a player and a writer.
Trying to make it nuanced is difficult
Attempting to show that everyone has a point in a situation is difficult when one group has absolute power over the other and can kill them whenever they feel like it. Also, with the abuses the Templars regularly perpetuate against the mages established in DAO and DA2 any attempted justification reads as the story sanctioning an oppressive force. If they try to demonstrate the danger of magic, they end up with the 10,000 blood mage problem from DA2. It's a hard thing to do within the framework they set up, but they also haven't been particularly successful with it, imo, so abandoning it is a better choice.
It's the most reductive version of the conflict
Reducing the entire discussion to whether magic is good or evil, whether mages should be free or confined is really boring. It's a false dichotomy that promotes extremism in characters on either side of the conflict who never interact with one another. "Is magic bad?" is a useless and uninteresting question. Who cares? What does it do?; Where did it come from?; What different ways can you use it? are all better questions.
Makes it difficult for the audience to learn more about magic
If the only characters the audience ever meets are people who come from the Circle, Dalish mages, and apostates, the amount they're going to learn about different perspectives on magic and its various uses is limited. Part of the reason Jaws of Hakkon was such an interesting DLC for DAI is because the Avvar have a completely different philosophy about magic and spirits. It was refreshing after several games of having the same ideas about magic shoved down our throats to hear someone give a different perspective and ACTUALLY NEW information. Everything I needed to know about the mage-templar conflict, I already knew by the end of DAO, but I had to sit through two more entire games while people discussed it at length.
Magic in the North is fascinating
Now that we're finally rid of that conflict, look how many different kinds of magic we get to see in DATV! We get to meet a Rivaini Seer, a Mortalitasi (who can use magic to TALK TO REAL DEAD PEOPLE!!!), a non-Altus mage from the Tevinter Imperium; we get to see magic as it was utilized by the ancient elves and how it interfaces with technology. We got DWARF MAGIC!! Finally, an answer to what Sandal was doing! We found out you can use it to turn yourself into a LICH!!! All of that stuff is so cool, and we had never encountered it before this game! It brings up so many new questions about the nature of the Fade, the source of magic itself, the strength of magic in Thedas relative to other places in the world. And NONE of it could be discussed in the South because they are too busy arguing about fucking towers!!!
tl;dr: The mage-templar conflict was a boring and reductive lens through which to view magic in the DA universe, I'm glad it's gone, I hope they continue what they started in DATV and explore different ways magic can be used in the future.
Would like to start this off with empire blue is one of the top ten fanfics I have ever read in any fandom and I love it immensely. Your writing is so good and your characterization of Vivienne is fantastic. I really like how you made it clear that the circle as a system has also hurt Vivienne as well, even if it’s less so than some others, because I feel like so many people miss that when talking about Vivienne.
Now that I’ve said that, I was wondering what you think Vivienne’s opinion of spirit healers would be? They’re circle-approved (though only because they can be used), but they also do work closely with a single spirit, which Vivienne does distrust?
first of all anon, thank you so much for taking the time to read empire blue and I’m so glad you enjoyed it!!!!!! Comments like that honestly mean the world to me <33
I feel like Vivienne’s opinion on spirit healers would likely be very complex due to a number of reasons (as most things are with her lmao)
Although Circle mandated, we know spirit healers are generally under heavy supervision and Vivienne certainly seems like she would be very adverse to magic involving spirits.
What’s interesting though is that, for someone very adamant about the dangers of spirits, Vivienne is canonically a heavy user of spirit/direct fade magic.
Knight enchanters not only conjure a blade straight from the Fade (using a hilt that has a spirit willingly bound inside) but also literally veil themselves with the fade.
Vivienne’s special ability, Resurgence, also sounds eerily similar to what spirit healers do as well:
“You call on benign spirits to restore you and your allies for continuing the fight.”
My guess is Vivienne would initially be wary of spirit healers - just like she is of any powerful mage - but as long as they show considerable caution and discipline, she has no issue with the practice and practitioners in general!
Some random thoughts:
It’s interesting how, similar to phylacteries, spirit magic, while mostly condemned by the Chantry, is used heavily by its mages given special dispensation; the age old scenario of “it’s not bad when we use it, but if you use it, you’re breaking the rules!!”
Another interesting point I remembered while writing this is that there are a number of hints within game, whether that be banter, codex information, or Vivienne’s canon abilities that suggest that she’s naturally and highly gifted in spirit magic - a terrifying prospect for both a mage trying to avoid being persecuted by Templars as well as a Circle tower already afraid of having an extremely young prodigy. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why Vivienne is harrowed so young.
I was just in the shower and vaguely remember a dream from I don't know when the fuck. Well, I know it's at least after the Dreadwolf alpha footage:
Bioware released info on new mage specializations, which were structured like the ones in Origins. And one of them?
FUCKING Illusionist
Light-bending magic. Magic that bends light to create illusions. Illusions on the caster. Illusions in the environment. Illusions that make a person see anything the caster wants them to see.
Illusions that, combined with other schools of magic, can convince a person to believe in the look, sound, smell, and feel of an illusion. That makes them believe it's REAL.
So considering how big of a fear of demons Iron Bull seems to have and that as a kid he had really vivid dreams of them (it’s a Cole dialogue I think?) is it like theorized/speculated that he might be magically sensitive? Maybe that’s part of why his Tamassran is relieved when he leaves the Qun (that ones definitely a Cole dialogue), she didn’t want to see him end up a saarebas? Maybe also how he stumbled on Reaver stuff I think Origins said it could also be taught by demons somewhere.
Is the Crossroads essential to eluvian travel? Or could there possibly be a way to 'link' two eluvians to each other and bypass the Crossroads altogether?
Eluvian lore. I love eluvian lore! Looking through the instances of eluvian use in the games and in The Masked Empire, I would say yes, it’s totally possible to connect two eluvians without using the Crossroads. The only things that seem essential to the operation of an eluvian is sufficient knowledge and power to create a path connecting two eluvians. If the distance being traveled is sufficiently short, neither of these pose much of a problem. The longer the distance, however, the more difficult it is to gather the power to create the path.
The Path Makers
Once you step through, stay on the path, and you will find your way to the crossroads. (Imshael, The Masked Empire, p. 258)
One day I hope we get to craft eluvians (or at least have Merrill and Dagna put their respective knowledge together to make us a few) but for right now all we know is that eluvians are linked together with magic that creates paths that are neither the mortal world nor the Fade. These paths are described in The Masked Empire:
“When her vision cleared, Briala saw that they stood on a path whose stones were carved with the same runes that had adorned the sides of the tunnel last night. Unlike the tunnel, however, the stones shone with brilliant light. The light seemed white, but when Briala looked away, it glittered with rainbows at the edge of her vision. The path stretched off into the distance ahead. Behind her, it ended at the eluvian, which looked here just as it had back in the burial chamber, only without the elaborate decorations.
Beyond the path, everything was hard to make out. The ground looked like grass, but it was grey and dim, despite the light coming from the stones of the path. Briala thought she could see trees in the distance, but they were merely smudged outlines against the horizon.
“What is this place?” she asked Felassan, who was rocking back and forth on his heels.
“You know, da’len, I honestly have no idea.” He leaned over and poked at the stones. “It’s not the Fade. The runes are elven… If I had to guess, I would say our ancestors actually created some sort of a tiny world between the eluvians.
“Can that be done?”
“Apparently.” Felassan stepped off the path and reached down into the grass.
“The demon said not to do that.”
“The demon says a lot of things.” Felassan focused his gaze, and the gray grass around his hand filled with color, one lone spot of lush green in the strange dime meadow. “And this little world seems to like us.”
….
“I suspect that this land was made for the elves,” Felassan said as Michel stood up, stiff and awkward, wincing against the light. “Which they aren’t.” (The Masked Empire, p. 281-282)
So the elves made pockets “little worlds” that connect the eluvians together. The trails help travelers stay on their designated path. (You have to wonder what happens if you wander too far off the designated roads. Bets on if we find out in the next game?) It’s interesting that the trails in The Masked Empire look like a meadow while in Trespasser we have trails suspended in a void. Does that mean that the trails in Trespasser were damaged when the Veil was created? Or does the look of the path reflect the design of its creator? Not sure, but the the presence of the magic eggs on the Trespasser paths suggest it could be the latter.
Depending on the needs of the travelers, the distance between the eluvians could be very long or almost instantaneous. We’ve used both kinds in game.
The Shortest Distance
There are many instances of short distance eluvian travel that doesn’t require a visit to the Crossroads to manage. These could be considered door, escalator, or elevator eluvians. These types of eluvians can be found in just about all of the ruins in Trespasser and there is evidence that there were others in various Elvhen/Almarri ruins throughout Ferelden. Some great examples of this can be seen in the Vir Dirthara. It is likely that the paths would be so short that you would step through one eluvian and out the other without any travel at all. Straight shot, no crossroads required.
Stranger Trails
“The eluvians are magical mirrors. You walk into one of them, journey through a kind of in-between place for a bit, and come out the other side several days’ ride elsewhere…. Old elven magic. Always have to respect old elven magic.” (Imshael, The Masked Empire, p. 227)
Others eluvians we know connect through a crossroads. These mirrors are meant for long distance travel and function more like roads than doors. They are set up like a highway system with lots of intersections, on ramps, and off ramps for the convenience of those traveling them. This is the kind of setup we find in Trespasser. Lots of trails intersecting so that areas of import can be accessed. One has to wonder if this section of the Crossroads was meant for and/or created by Solas for his followers. (An interesting question is whether more than one eluvian can lead to the same important place, like the Vir Dirthara.)
The Nexus
The Crossroads Morrigan takes the Inquisitor to in Inquisition seems to be set up for another purpose. It seems to be a portal convergence, a place where all eluvians can be accessed if one has the time and geographical knowledge needed to search through all the eluvians connected to it. This part of the Crossroads seems more like an airport than a road system, given that it is capable of sending the user to a far greater number of destinations. On could, in theory, use Morrigan’s eluvian for a quick trip to Kirkwall (if Merrill’s was in working order). You just need to catch a connecting flight through Morrigan’s Crossroads.
The Paths of Power
So could an eluvian connect two places that are farther apart from one another without using the Crossroads? Yup, they can. I would label these the “high speed trains” of eluvian travel. We have seen just these types of eluvians in at least three instances.
The final eluvian in the Darvaarad appears to lead directly to the Elven Ruins without a stop over in a Crossroads.
The eluvian Tamlen and Mahariel found in the Dalish Origin also seems to be a direct path, although it is strange because Tamlen can look through it and see an underground city when it is active.
None of the other eluvians we have encountered seem to be able to do this.
And then there is that business with Kieran and Morrigan’s mirror. He, and it, are the best example of what is possible in eluvian travel with enough power backing you up.
Kieran basically rekeyed Morrigan’s eluvian to lead directly to the Fade, something that was certainly shocking to his mother and all together expected by his grandmother. (A good question is whether the eluvian in the Fade already existed or if he or Flemythal created it.) So not only is a direct path between eluvians possible, one can also repurpose them to lead to other destinations. Useful.
Stretching the Limits
“[Imshael] pressed his hands together, and coils of read light shone from between his fingers. When he brought his hands apart, he held a ruby the size of a child’s first. “The keystone,” he said. “It will awaken the mirror nearest you. Once you step through, stay on the path, and you will find your way to the crossroads. From there, let the keystone guide you. It will point you towards a chamber where you will find a pedestal that lacks just such a gem. Place the gem, whisper anything you like, and all the eluvians will awaken, ready to use.” He smiled. “But only to those who whisper the same phrase. Old magic. Lets honored guards in, keeps tomb robbers out.” (The Masked Empire, p. 258)
I suspect, however, that there are limits to the direct paths eluvians can take. All of the eluvians require a power source open them, and one can assume the greater the distance it travels the greater the power the eluvian will need to work. Sort of like needing more fuel for a long drive. If you don’t have enough fuel, you are going to run into problems.
“These mirrors have been dormant for centuries. It would take powerful magic to awaken one. I might be able to do so, but I’d need the rest of you to carry me for the rest of the day.” (The Masked Empire, p. 279-280)
Felassan is certainly no slouch when it comes to magic. He is either being modest or the power demands of opening an eluvian are high enough to be taxing even to an ancient elven mage. If opening a dormant eluvian is difficult, one can assume that repair one would be more so. (Props to Merrill!) Such efforts demand a high price, or so Morrigan says.
Morrigan’s mirror does the prudent thing and connects to an already existing eluvian nexus. From there she can take portals to many different places around Thedas and beyond.
Creating or repurposing an eluvian to lead to only one place would also come with a price, and I suspect that price would become very steep as the distance between them increased. Can it be done? Yes. Can you take a direct eluvian from Skyhold to Minrathous? Possible, but that is a vast distance.
If magical engineering is anything like real engineering then there are limits and consequences to making direct gateways. In addition to the power drain, it is very possible that long distance direct eluvian travel would make the mirror less stable. And the key for such an eluvian may need a very high power source.
It is interesting that Morrigan’s Crossroads has so many elven “energy” trees. I postulated in a different post (and a follow up) that these served as power collections and/or conduits. The presence of so many in the Crossroads lends support to the notion that they are more than merely decorative. Perhaps they once channeled energy to the eluvian nexus.
So, to sum up, you don’t need to use the Crossroads to link two eluvians together. Two eluvians could be linked to provide a more direct, and private, means of travel. The lore suggests that one would need to create a new path through the “in between places” or reestablish an old connection. It wouldn’t be instantaneous travel. Any traveler using such an eluvian would still need to walk the path to the other. And it is likely, however, that more power would be needed for such a connection and it is possible that bridging too large a distance could make the connecting eluvians less stable.
The Revelation of All Things - 54. In which the proverbial gauntlet is metaphorically thrown
Read the full fic on AO3.
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The days of unbroken working and concentration meant Cullen's headaches had returned in full force by the end of the week. Thanks to Evana, however, he now had a new supply of draughts and the occasional magical assist if things got too bad.
The pain behind his eyes was particularly intense today. He'd spent part of the day with Hawke training the men they were to take with them for the assault. The physical exercise had felt wonderful at the time, but now, as he sat alone in his office, the aches in his shoulders, hips and knees only added to his discomfort.
He debated sending a note to Evana but decided to pour himself a draught instead. He'd just stood up to retrieve it when his door opened, and the object of his thoughts slipped inside. She smiled at him shyly and locked the door behind her. His heart began to pound as she walked toward him, but his smile turned to concern when she swayed on her feet. He raced from behind his desk to steady her, placing his hands on her hips. Her hands came up to rest on his upper arms, and her smile widened to a grin when her eyes met his.
"Good evening, Commander."
The faint smell of The Iron Bull's liquor wafted to his nostrils, and he heaved a sigh through a wry smile. "You, my dear, are drunk."
"Not drunk," she contradicted as she shook her head, raised a hand and pinched her forefinger and thumb together in front of her eye. "Just a liiiittle tipsy. Bull insisted that I celebrate with him and the Chargers, so that's what I've been doing for the last couple of hours. Didn't let him get me as drunk as last time... though he wants me to come back later, when I'm done talking with you."
"Talking with me?"
She nodded but said nothing further. Normally, he'd be delighted to talk with her any time, but her strange behavior had him nervous. A roiling sensation took up residence in his gut as they stared at each other in the dim candlelight.
"What would you like to talk about?" he asked warily.
"You. And Magic. And templars. And... other things."
Cullen furrowed his brow, the uncomfortable feeling growing. "I'm always happy to answer any questions you might have."
"Thank you, Cullen, that's... that means a lot to me." She looked away, but her eyes darted back to him a couple of times before she finally spoke. "I guess... I guess I want to know if you... do you still regret the man you became after leaving Ferelden?"
He breathed an internal sigh of relief. The question was personal, but no more or less than any of their other conversations. Still he had to think on his answer a moment.
"Well... in many respects, yes. After the Ferelden Circle, I thought all mages were like the ones there. Knight-Commander Meredith's methods were harsh. I recognize that now, but at the time, all I could see was that they kept people safe."
"But you said Meredith was unstable," she observed quietly.
Cullen shrugged and absently let his thumbs caress her waist as he fell into memories of his past. "She was my Knight-Commander, and I her Knight-Captain. I had no reason to distrust her. Perhaps it was naive of me... but she wasn't wrong about the blood mages in Kirkwall. Meredith encouraged my anger toward the mages. But there was only so far I would go, and she knew that, too. I was her second-in-command, but she kept decisions from me - those I would question. I believed she was serving the city. I never thought to question her. Not until it was too late."
"You can't control everything. And you stood up to her in the end," she reminded him.
He appreciated her words, but he was still entrenched in the memories. "If I hadn't, would I be like her now? I wanted mages locked away as much as she did. I trusted they were treated reasonably well, but I should have done more. I should have looked into it." He shook his head as if trying to shake away a bad dream. "It is not yet enough. The Inquisition is my chance to atone. I will see it through."
Her eyes filled with concern, yet there was hesitancy in her looks as well. "I know you will. But... with so much corruption and ill treatment of both mages and templars, things... they can't go back to the way they used to be. Don't you think...? I mean... do you think templars should cease to exist?"
His skin prickled in defensiveness at the loaded question. How could she ask him such a thing? Unsure of where she was headed with this line of questioning, however, he bit back his initial reaction and answered in as even a tone as possible.
"No. I may have chosen to leave that life, but I respect those who remain. Magic ungoverned could tear the world apart. It's doing so now. Templars are trained and able to confront such dangers."
"Like the Grey Wardens can deal with the Blight?"
Cullen frowned. "I... I suppose so. Although I would hardly compare magic with the Blight. Magic can do good. The Blight never could."
She smiled a little at his rebuttal of her comparison. It seemed to please her, and he relaxed the tiniest bit. Her next question, however, put him right back on edge again.
"What would you suggest, then? To change things, I mean."
This was a serious conversation to be having with a slightly tipsy Inquisitor, and it was a dangerous conversation for an ex-templar to be having with his slightly tipsy mage lover. And yet, he could not bring himself to deny her an answer. They'd been having variations of this conversation from the beginning of their acquaintance. She'd even needed to get a little drunk to work up the courage to ask these questions, so they must be hard for her. He couldn't blame her. He could do with a bracing shot of whiskey right about now.
Cullen sighed as he gripped tighter at her waist and tried to organize his thoughts. He'd always assumed the resolution between mages and templars would rest in hands far more qualified than his own - such as the new Divine's. But the Inquisition was quickly becoming a powerful political organization thanks to their ambassador. His answer might carry more weight than he realized, and that scared him. She likely wouldn't be pleased by what he had to say, but he had to speak truthfully and from his own experiences.
"Some call the Circle a prison that can only breed resentment. Perhaps opportunities to work outside the Circle? A mixed military service, or healer's clinics with templar support? And there must be a safer way for templars to leave the Order. Templars can lose their memories to lyrium. Some call it a gift - to forget the failed harrowings, the demons." He looked away from her. "You know that some atrocities haunt me still. But to lose what good I can recall... I nearly lost my mind once. It is no gift."
Her eyes were troubled as he turned back to her. She pulled away from him, and after a moment's hesitation, he let her go.
"And yet, to me," she countered, "this seems even more reason to end the Templar Order. Why bind them to such a horrible fate at all? Mages can take care of themselves. Dalish mages such as myself have survived for thousands of years without templar interference. And you know... until the explosion at the Conclave, the only truly horrific thing in my life was caused by templars. Fiona has done a good job of leading the Inquisition mages without templar support. And if things are really so bad for templars, I wonder why we need them at all."
The rational part of his brain argued that her experiences might indeed lead her to such a conclusion, but the words still cut. Anger flared, and he responded in kind, his voice scraping harshly through the void between them.
"Tell that to the parents of a child who falls prey to possession. Mages cannot handle such threats alone."
The sudden heat and adrenaline that rose up between them nearly stifled him. She crossed her arms and leaned her hip to one side, her eyes narrowing on him with a steely glint of defiance.
Yes, this is a very dangerous conversation.
But it had begun, and he had no idea how to stop it without seeming as if he were dismissing her concerns - or burying his own. When she responded, her voice carried a forceful determination he'd only heard a few times before and usually only around the war table.
"Can they not?" she responded, a note of disdain coloring her previously hesitant tone. "Far more parents mourn the loss of their children to the Circle or try to hide their loved ones from the templars rather than lose them. How many of those possessions could have been avoided by simply teaching mages in the places they live instead of ripping them away from their homes? It's unnecessary."
Cullen's lip curled in answering derision, his hands fisting at his sides, his voice tightly leashed to prevent himself from shouting. "And when the people become overly frightened of the two or three mages in their midst, what then? Should we simply turn a blind eye to the deaths of those who could have been otherwise protected in a Circle?"
"Protected?! Is that what you call the likes of Kirkwall? The Gallows? The very name betrays the murderous intent behind the place. And don't even get me started on how many abominations could have been prevented by simply giving mages equal rights instead of treating them as prisoners."
"Circles are not supposed to be prisons," he tried to reason. "They allow for mages to learn from one another. Senior enchanters could often come and go on official business with little oversight. And young mages could be with others like themselves instead of ostracized as different or freakish. Tell me, why is that a bad thing?"
"Because they have no choice!" she cried. "Whether or not Circles were intended as prisons, that's what they became. You said it yourself - rounding up mages and forcing them into cramped spaces breeds resentment. And putting that many mages in a single space where their interactions with the Fade can do serious damage to the Veil, thinning it and drawing demons with the collective power of so many mages? It's madness!"
Cullen's anger faltered slightly as images of Kinloch flashed through his mind. His head throbbed insistently, the headache of a few moments ago blooming into a full-on migraine. The questions flooding his mind now were not new, though they'd only recently surfaced as he slowly came to terms with traumas long past: Would so many have died if they hadn't been locked in the tower together? Would anyone have become possessed at all? She seemed so certain...
He shook his head, using the simmering anger to push away the memories. He knew what he'd experienced. Mages could not deal with such things. He had to believe it. Otherwise... otherwise he and all the others had suffered and died for nothing. He paced away from her, his agitation requiring movement to keep it within manageable levels.
"I understand what you're saying, but the idea of no oversight... No, I cannot accept that. It's too dangerous! Look what we're dealing with now - magic running wild and threatening our very existence. Perhaps... perhaps properly Circle-trained mages could be allowed freedom in exchange for-"
"No!" Evana sliced a hand through the air. "Mages should not be imprisoned simply because we were born with a gift and then have to earn our freedom based on the whim of some Chantry lackey. Why can't you see this? It's so simple!"
"There is nothing simple about it!" he snarled.
"Yes, there is. Either you think mages are worthy of the same respect and freedom as non-mages or you think them inferior... you think me inferior." Her voice broke slightly as she asked, "Which is it, Cullen?"
"I don't..." he stumbled, her comments throwing him off balance. "I'm not talking about you. I-"
"I. Am. A. Mage," she hissed. "I am not an exception. I am no different from the rest. If you think of mages as inferior, as untrustworthy, you are including me. So which is it? Am I a person? Do I have the right to be free, or should I be locked up in a tower with all the other animals?"
Mages cannot be treated like people; they are not like you and me.
The words - his words from what seemed a lifetime ago - rose up out of the swirling confusion of thought to taunt him, and he cringed internally as truth dawned slowly despite the maelstrom of emotion. He'd set her apart. He'd relegated her to a "different" category, just as he had Dorian and even Vivienne. But those impulses still simmered under his skin - the knee-jerk reaction of mistrust, the feeling of impending doom when he thought of mage freedom, the desire to exert some sort of control over the uncontrollable.
He saw the flash of pain behind her anger and realized he'd taken too long to answer. He gritted his teeth and tried to regain some control over himself and the conversation, but trying to reconcile his thoughts on mages with his thoughts about Evana proved difficult.
"I... I do think mages deserve respect," he finally managed to grind out, "but their 'gift' as you call it has the power to harm far more people than a non-mage ever could. Their-"
"Our," she inserted in a forceful tone.
"Your..." Cullen looked at her, his irritation dipping briefly into despair as her truth - the truth? - continued to pound at the thick wall the Chantry had built around his values and moorings. Although weathered and eroded through the years, the walls held, and he knew he'd need more time to resolve the cognitive dissonance she'd forced him to acknowledge tonight. He shook his head, a surge of irrational resentment bleeding into his words. "Regardless of how I might feel, your powers are fearsome, and those powers out of control exponentially so. People will not simply accept mages among them because you will it."
"I am the Inquisitor. If anyone can do this, start us down the path, it's me. And why do you think people are frightened of mages in the first place, Cullen? Perhaps because the Chantry and those in power have taught them to be afraid? The Dalish-"
"Are not a sufficient example of how mages could be integrated!" Cullen snapped in a burst of frustration. He sucked in a breath and modulated his voice, immediately knowing his mistake and yet unable to keep his mouth shut. "Your culture is admirable, but it's a bit presumptuous to suggest your methods are transferable to a people with an entirely different set of cultural beliefs and values, don't you think?"
Her eyes widened in shock and then immediately narrowed to slits. "Careful, vhenan. You are sorely out of your depth. Have I not been immersed in both cultures? Do you think so little of me that you believe I would suggest something without first giving it proper consideration?"
Cullen took a step back at the fury in her gaze. Maker, he should not have said it. But then he should not have said half of what had come out of his mouth this evening.
"I'm sorry," he conceded in a low, even tone as he held his hands in front of him in supplication. "I went too far."
Her body relaxed the tiniest bit, and she jerked her head in a small nod of acceptance. Silence strained between them, and Cullen struggled with the despair steadily creeping up to suffocate his anger. They'd needed to deal with this fundamental disagreement, but he wished he'd been more prepared. Now, angry words had been exchanged, and she'd never seemed further away from him than in this moment.
Maker, was this the end? Would they fall apart over an age-old question out of sheer stubbornness? He pressed a thumb and finger into his temples. He had to regain control of his emotions. I cannot... Maker... I cannot bear to lose her...
"Even if some areas of training need modification, the base is sound," Evana finally continued in a slightly subdued tone. "Educating mages in the ways of magic doesn't require giving up lives and families. It just requires careful tutoring by a senior mage or two - as I had in my clan. I learned to control my power, but I was never restricted from seeing my mother or Vash'an or anyone else. The Chantry and the Order have cultivated a culture of fear around mages, but the vast majority of mages want to do good - or at the very least live normal lives. Those few who would do evil could be judged and monitored by other mages... or maybe... maybe a force of templars could guard those judged guilty of purposefully harming people with magic - but only after they have done so. And the children... those poor children..."
Her voice broke, and a fat, angry tear that had been glistening in her eye while she spoke finally rolled down her pale cheek. She looked down and swiped at it angrily, huffing out something in elven under her breath.
A single tear had never more effectively doused a fire. Her eyes locked on his again, the glistening depths pleading for him to understand, and he slumped slightly, all his remaining fight drowned in that single, passionate tear. That and her allowance - the possibility of a place for templars in her dream of mage freedom - placated him in no small way.
"Those children..." she finally continued in a wavering voice, "locked up for the rest of their lives, never to see their family again... At least for you it was a choice, though even that is debatable. For a mage... You would do that to your own child? You would allow them to be taken to a Circle... you would agree to never see your own flesh and blood ever again?"
His anger had already faded, but with the shock of this final retort came an additional flash of understanding. She was concerned about herself and the mages she'd taken in but also about any children those mages - or she - might have. She was appealing to his own sense of familial duty.
He didn't dwell on the fact that, if things progressed between them, any child of hers would also be his. That dream of his - of the life he and Evana might have after the Inquisition - hadn't progressed that far. He hadn't allowed himself to dream such a precious and terrifying thing.
He also didn't dwell on the disturbing fact that he wasn't sure what he would do if he had a mage child of his own. Six years ago, they would have gone to the Circle, no question. Four years ago, he would have balked until ensuring for himself that the Circle in question followed all proper procedures.
And now? Though the current lack of Circles rendered it a theoretical question, he simply didn't know. He would want to keep his own child, he was sure of that. But whether he thought it better for them to be in a Circle... for their own good...
"I do believe things must change, Evana," he conceded in a rough tone. "And I didn't mean to imply that my ideas were the only answers. You asked, and I spoke the first things that came to mind. If Fiona has methods for safeguarding free mages as well as non-mages from the dangers of magic, I would love to hear them... as would others in the Inquisition, I'm sure."
She stared at him, clearly trying to comprehend his sudden attempt at reconciliation. Then her arms fell listless to her sides, and her shoulders slumped forward, falling out of the taut, defensive position she'd maintained only a moment ago. Giving in to the urge, he carefully approached her, placing his hands tentatively on her arms as he used to do when comforting her in Haven... back before he could comfort her in other ways.
"Evana, I..."
He stopped, unsure of what to say. He did not agree with her vision of completely free mages, but he reminded himself that his objections were based on a lifetime of Chantry indoctrination. He'd not missed her implication that, even at eighteen, he might not have been in a right mind to make a decision about dedicating his life to the templars. It was an ugly, insidious thought he'd only recently allowed himself to acknowledge. He first reaction was still indignant denial of such a thing, but deep down he knew he'd eventually have to deal with the implications.
Not tonight, though.
"This is not a question we can answer in one night," he said gently. "I know we still disagree on many things, but... but I want us to keep talking. We... I'm willing to walk the path with you until we come to a mutually agreeable understanding. And I do believe we can come to an understanding. I promise to think more carefully on the subject in the future. I don't want-" He cut off as his voice broke slightly with emotion. He cleared his throat and continued on. "Evana, I don't want this to come between us. Can... can that be enough for now?"
She took a breath and gave him a weak smile. "Yes... Yes. I want... I want us to come to an understanding, too. I want that for us. I'm sorry if I came on strong, but you can appreciate my... passion on the subject, I think?"
"Quite well."
He dropped his arms back to his sides, hesitant to act on the urge to pull her into an embrace. A strange silence fell between them. She was quiet, but not in her normal way. It was... awkward and oppressive. Their fight - for it could be called nothing else - still hung in the air, tainting their tenuous peace with vague unease.
She looked down at the floor, her posture relaxing slightly but not enough for him to feel completely easy. The heaviness in the air closed around him, invoking a feeling of confinement and putting him on edge yet again. He found himself raising a hand the back of his neck to rub at the pain and tension gathering there as panic bubbled up in his already roiling gut.
After all that... what now?
He wished to ease the strain between them, however, so he took a deep breath and prompted softly, "Uh... there was something else you wished to talk about?"
"Oh... um... yes, it's nothing, really, but..." She shifted and glanced up at him. "Did you hear that Solas is back? He arrived a couple of hours ago."
Cullen stiffened as he read the nervousness in her eyes. Why was she nervous? Panic struck more forcefully this time. Taking a breath and forcing himself to relax, he spoke as nonchalantly as he could manage.
"No, I hadn't heard, yet. That's... good news. How is he doing?"
"As well as can be expected after losing a dear friend." She looked away from Cullen yet again and took a couple little breaths before blurting out, "I hugged him. When he came back... came through the gates... we hugged."
Cullen felt his jaw clench involuntarily. The hammer pounding at the inside of his head threatened to explode from his skull, exacerbated by their heated exchange, and now this. Why was she telling him, anyway? Unless... she felt guilty for some reason. That would explain the nervousness. But - Maker - what does she feel guilty about? He was surprised at the evenness in his own voice as he responded.
"Oh?"
"Yes. It was right downstairs in the courtyard. I didn't want you to hear it from gossips who'd make it out to be... something it wasn't. You know?"
Cullen let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding. If that was all...
"You don't need to justify yourself to me, Evana. And you give many of your friends hugs. Why is this different?"
She suddenly started pacing. Oh... Andraste. The panic turned quite suddenly into a knife of jealousy sliding through his heart.
"It just... is. But... Fenedhis! I didn't mean to say it like that."
"Regardless, that is how you said it."
Despite intentions, his tone came out harsh, but he was barely keeping himself together. She glanced at him as she paced, and he saw her eyes glistening as she gestured wildly.
"I know. I can't help it! You're the one who... who I always talk to when I don't know how to deal with something. Or when I'm scared of something. You even told me... I have to talk through my fears and doubts! But... I know that's unfair in this case. I've always relied on you far too much. I shouldn't be talking about it... not with you. No matter what Cole says, it's not fair to burden you with it. But if not you, who? There's no one I trust as much as you."
She was rambling now, and he could only decipher bits and pieces of it. Most of it seemed gratifying. But the small part about "in this case" caused the knife to slide deeper. His breathing grew erratic as panic clawed at him, and he shook his head slightly. They'd never get to the truth unless they both calmed down.
Reaching out to stop her pacing, he pulled her to the chairs by the fire and sat her down. Then, he moved the table aside and pulled the other chair up until their knees touched when he sat down. Grabbing her hands, he looked her in the eye.
"You know you can tell me anything, Evana. Anything. Our previous... conversation should be proof enough of that. You can tell me. Even if it... even if I don't like it. I'd..." He swallowed and drew in a long breath in an attempt to ease the pain of his heart cracking open in his chest. "I would rather know the truth."
Her eyes went wide. "Oh... no! I don't mean... Andraste's holy teardrops! This entire thing is ridiculous!"
In spite of the seriousness, Cullen let out a nervous chuckle at her creative cursing. "Learned that one from Varric, did we?"
She gave him a pained half smile. "Yes. He's a bad influence... But... Cullen..."
The door handle rattled. Malia's muffled voice called out to him. He stood, checking the lock on the nearest door on his way. He opened the middle door, but before Malia could say a word, he cut her off.
"I'm occupied. Come back in fifteen minutes."
Confused and a tiny bit terrified, she started to back away. In the gloom of twilight, Cullen spied another messenger walking across the bridge toward him.
"On second thought, stay right here. Tell anyone who approaches that I am not to be disturbed for the next fifteen minutes. Or really, until I open the door again. Got it?"
"Y-yes, ser!"
Cullen closed and relocked the door and then headed over to the third door to lock it as well. He came back to the chair to sit in front of Evana and took her hands in his once again.
"You were saying?"
Her face was a strange mixture of warmth and disturbance, adoration and distress. She took a deep breath and began.
"I... I think... with the way Solas looks at me sometimes... the way he looked at me today..." She glanced away from Cullen and then looked back with a haunted expression. "I think he cares for me... in a... in a romantic way."
He felt his jaw clench again and let a heartbeat pass before he responded. "I know."
Her brows furrowed, and she blinked once, then twice. "You do?"
"He's cared for you probably as long as I have. I used to play a little game in my head about which one of us was more jealous of the other. I usually won. He seemed to have your attention more often... for a time, at least. He certainly saw more of you in those early days than I ever did."
Wide eyed, she blinked yet again. "I... I don't know what to say..."
Cullen shook his head, set his lips in a thin line and breathed out through his nose. He still held tightly to her hands, but she seemed to be slipping from his grasp. He felt powerless to stop it.
"All I need to know is... how do you feel about it?"
"Awful!" she answered immediately. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I never wanted it. I knew... I guess I knew there was a little something. Even since our first trip to the Hinterlands. It's why I've always been so careful around him. I didn't know it had gone so far - that he had continued to... But there's so much I can learn from him, Cullen! So much I've already learned about the history and lore of the People while talking and walking the Fade with him. I know him so well now - he's much more than just a mage. I've always felt like there was a deeper connection between us. I can feel when he's around without even looking. I know he can feel the same... but... Oh, gods! Cullen!"
Now he was the one pacing, his sudden dropping of her hands and movement away from her causing her exclamation. He couldn't take it. His stomach lurched and not just from the pounding in his head. The thought of her leaving him had always dogged him, nipping at the heels of every happy moment with her, but to have it be a real possibility? He felt sick inside.
He knew exactly what she was saying. A part of her wasn't his. A part of her belonged to Solas - might always belong to Solas. They had a connection. One that she'd never have with him because he was not a mage. In his bitterness, he nearly laughed aloud at the irony.
She got up out of her chair now, standing before him as he paced. Her voice dropped to a deadly quiet, her panicked breathing the only other sound in the room. He had to pause in his pacing to even hear her, and so he stood rigid like a statue, facing away from her as she spoke.
"None of that matters, Cullen. I don't want that with him. How could I when I have you? Whatever might be between me and Solas doesn't matter because what I have with you is so much more - infinitely more. I would never give you up - not by choice. And I... I only want you. You believe me, don't you?" Her voice descended into a hoarse whisper. "Please... vhenan..."
Her words soothed him, but he resisted her for a moment longer even as he knew he'd eventually give in. To be without her... it had seemed impossible before, but now, after everything they'd been through, it was unthinkable. Even knowing they had such differing values, even knowing there was a part of her he couldn't touch, that was out of his reach - even knowing all that, he couldn't fathom giving her up.
Her hand tentatively slid into his as he remained facing away from her. She circled around to stand in front of him, still holding his hand. His fingers involuntarily clenched around hers - whether out of a subconscious rebellion at holding out on her or simply a force of habit he wasn't sure. A tiny, hopeful smile played at her lips as she felt him grip her hand firmly. But it dissolved into a pained, pleading look the longer he remained silent. Finally, he closed his eyes and pulled in a shaky breath.
"Of course. Of course, I believe you."
She gasped and surged toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist. His own arms immediately closed around her, his gloved hands rubbing slowly up and down her back. He felt her body shake slightly and then heard the sharp inhale of a sob. Sorrow and concern replaced his lingering doubts as he gathered her even closer.
"Evana... darling... it's alright," he soothed.
"You shouldn't be comforting me!" came her muffled reply. "I don't deserve that. Ir abelas, emma lath. Ir abelas."
The final vestiges of disappointment slipped from him as he felt the firm reality of her there in his arms. Jealousy still wound a thin string around his heart, constricting his normal full feeling, but her quietly passionate words still echoed in his brain - I only want you. Tears threatened at the edges of his vision. It was enough.
"I have nothing to blame you for," he replied, "so do not blame yourself."
His arms tightened around her, and he simply held her as she cried. Eventually, her sobs died down to an occasional hiccup. He pulled back slightly and handed her a handkerchief before pulling her back into him and resting his cheek on the crown of her head. After another moment of silence, he finally spoke.
"What is... emma lath?" he asked quietly, testing the words on his tongue.
He knew his pronunciation wasn't quite right, but she didn't laugh. In fact, she didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, she mumbled something indecipherable into the handkerchief. He lifted his head and pressed a kiss into her hair, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth in spite of the heaviness surrounding them.
"What was that?"
Without looking at him, she raised her head slightly and whispered, "It... it means... ... my love."
Cullen's heart stopped and then thundered violently against his ribcage. The woman would be the death of him - scaring him with all this talk of magic and Solas... then calling him her love. It was basically like she was saying...
"Oh," he breathed.
It was all he could manage as her eyes turned up to meet his. She held his gaze for a long moment before her whisper cut through the silence.
"I... Cullen... ... I-"
Another knock sounded along with a muffled "Commander?" at the door nearest to them, and whatever she'd been about to say died on her lips as she looked toward the door. He recognized the voice of one of his lieutenants through the door and internally cursed the man for interrupting. But the moment was gone, anyway, and as much as he wanted to stay with her - Maker, how he wanted it - he had to get back to work. They were leaving the same day as the Inquisitor, and packing up and marching an army across Orlais required much more planning than four companions riding off on horseback.
He bent down and kissed her tear-stained cheeks. She sighed softly and leaned into his embrace.
"I'm sorry. I have to get back to work now, but... shall I..." He cleared his throat and kissed her soft lips to have more time to choose his words. "Shall I come see you tonight?"
She gave him the first genuine smile of the evening. "Yes. Please. I'd like that."
**
Cullen found her still in her clothes, passed out on her bed and smelling distinctly of Bull's liquor. He sat down on the edge of the bed, but she didn't move at all. Only her gentle snoring betrayed her continued status among the living.
So, she had gone back to drink more with Bull and the Chargers. He chuckled a little and then sighed. He'd allowed himself to hope that tonight might finally be the right time... But it was late, and realistically, he knew it wasn't ideal, even if she'd been awake - and sober. Then again, when would be ideal in the middle of a war?
The simple truth was that he loved her, and now, he thought she might truly... Maker, she might actually love him in return. Reconciling their differences would require work, but she'd agreed to stay with him and do that work. She'd been given the opportunity to choose another, but she'd chosen to stay with him. His chest constricted and his breathe came in short puffs simply thinking about it. She'd called him her love. Emma lath. He tried not to read too much into it. After all, it was a familiar term of endearment throughout Thedas. Perhaps she hadn't meant for it to carry so much weight.
However, every time she left him, it was entirely possible she would never return, and he wanted desperately to tell her and to hear the words from her in return before they all departed on the day after tomorrow. Could he say them now? In truth, he thought perhaps he could. He nearly had just a few days ago, but his fear had gotten the better of him. Now though... despite their differences, he now knew she would choose him above others.
But when would they find the time? He had just one more day to finish preparations for an entire army to begin their march across Orlais.
He sighed heavily once more and leaned over her, tracing a finger over her vallaslin as he had that morning. Not so long ago, he'd felt like an intruder in her room, but last night she'd welcomed him into her bed - asked him to stay. At least twice during the night he'd awoken disoriented, but her small movements and even breathing quickly reminded him where he was and who he was with. In those early morning hours, he'd pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
He leaned back, and she mumbled incoherently as he moved to the end of the bed and lifted her feet to unlace her boots. He smiled to himself. How many times had he done this now? He'd helped her to bed in her exhaustion, during her illness, and now in her adorable drunkenness. His hands glided gently, reverently over her calves and feet as he pulled off her boots.
She took a deep breath as he laid her foot back on the mattress. Her eyes opened, and her face broke into a wide, lazy grin. Her arms and hands beckoned to him.
"'ma lath, come t' bed."
He smiled and came over to sit by her side, taking her hands in his own. "In a moment."
She nodded, and her hands went limp as her eyes fell closed again. He looked her over and decided to leave her clothes for now. Her teasing that morning made him nervous to test her assertions of not wearing any smallclothes. In the back of his mind, however, he wondered how long it might be before changing her clothes became a lovingly repeated gesture alongside removing her boots. He longed for it as he longed for every comfort, every familiarity with her. Each one gained became more precious to him than the last.
Now was not that time, though. In fact, he pondered the wisdom of staying at all. This morning had been awkward enough passing by the guards at her door. Their faces had first registered confusion, then surprise, and finally a knowing, almost congratulatory glee. He was positive there couldn't be a soul remaining in Skyhold who didn't know that the Commander had spent last night with their Inquisitor. And they hadn't even done anything... yet.
Well, if the damage is already done...
Pulling off his own boots and, after moment's hesitation, his tunic as well, he slid into bed beside her and gently pulled her back against his chest. She murmured breathily again, and he let out a sharp hiss as she wriggled her backside to get closer to him. Maker...
Willing his body to stay calm, he wrapped his arm around the lithe form in front of him and thought fondly over the previous year of misunderstandings and reconciliations. In hindsight, he saw it all before him, every moment of tension, every doubt, every small gesture, blush or kind word interlocking with the next to create the present.
To his relief, their misunderstandings were fewer and farther between, but they still seemed to move forward in gigantic leaps. For days - weeks even - everything would appear to be flowing smoothly. Then, as with today, a small step forward in their relationship would cause a landslide. Perhaps that was simply the result of their limited time together. Non-private letters made it difficult to express any kind of affection while she was away, and their busy schedules left them little real time together... which was another reason why this felt so precious to him.
The fire popped lazily in the hearth as he adjusted the blankets. Comically, her bed was a bit larger than his, and he relished the way his feet didn't quite reach the bottom edge of the bed. His eyes drooped, but he forced them open. Tomorrow would be just as full as today, but he wanted to savor this moment just a little longer. However, exhaustion quickly overtook him, and he fell asleep to the soothing sounds of her quiet snoring.
