The Arcane Archive

Here There Be Dragon Ages (Beware: Rabid Cullenmancer) AO3: Lady_Aubade

[the-arcane-archivist]

Hello and welcome to the Arcane Archives!

The Archives are comprised of all things Dragon Age. From canon, DA media summaries (dubbed “The Archives”), and meta, to my personal musings, and fanfics. The Dragon Age brainrot is real and I love to write, so I thought I’d bring the two passions together in one place: this blog. Below is a list of the various topics that can be found as well as links to meta series and fanfics. Feel free to browse, comment, like and reblog to your heart’s content.

Thank you for visiting!

D

: The Archives :

Pre-Dragon Age: Origins

Dragon Age: Origins

Pre-Dragon Age II

Dragon Age II

Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Pre-Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

: Canon :

Playthroughs — #da:o canon in d (Neria Surana) — #da2 canon in d — #da:i canon in d (Anaia Trevelyan)

Canon PCs — #neria surana -- #anaia trevelyan

: Fanfics Masterpost :

Coming Soon!

: Funnies :

#d makes a funny

: Meta :

Characters — Cullen Rutherford

: Musings :

Criticals (#d gets critical)

Headcanons (#d’s headcanons)

Musings (#d’s musings on “insert character” or “insert game”)

Responses (#d responds)

Inquisition: HISHE

: Screenshots :

DA:I Cinematic Tools (no longer use)

DA:I Photomode

#d’s screenshots

[the-arcane-archivist]

Boiling Point

"We are all part of the Inquisition."

"Don't let anyone riot while we're gone." "The walls will be standing when you return. I hope."

"I will keep the peace while you and the others appeal to the Chantry in Val Royeaux."

xxx

Anaia's Journey: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Cullen x Anaia Romance: 1 | 2 | 3 Romance Vids: 1 | 2 | 3

[the-arcane-archivist]

Cullen and Ana's encounter outside the chantry.

Cullen x Anaia Romance Videos: 1 | 2 | 3

[the-arcane-archivist]

The Crossroads & Horsemaster Dennet

Anaia's Journey: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Little ramble under the cut...

It was muscle memory and I loved every bit of it.

Talk to Corporal Vale. Talk to the people around the Crossroads and rack up quests. Make a trip to Redcliffe to have the guard tell you she's been ordered to keep the gate closed. Cut through the Witchwood and the Gully to get to the river near Dennet's land to avoid some of the tediousness of the fights. Skirt around that ridiculously hard rift. Make camp. Talk to Dennet. Talk to Elena. Go defeat the demon and the possessed wolves. Talk to Bron. Talk to Senna. Place the markers for the watchtowers on the farm and then work my way back to the Crossroads via the West Road hitting a couple of the smaller templar camps along the way. Get the final watchtower near Fort Connor. Drop off mutton with the hunter and return to Haven to get Solas to shut up (for some reason it’s always him in my saves that pushes to go to Val Royeaux after I get enough power points). Next will be a short stint in Haven to tick off most of the quests there, and then Val Royeaux before the Hinterlands grind.

I've missed this game. I don't get all the hate for the Hinterlands. Yes, it's long and tedious at times, but it's the "coziest" portion of the game to me. Nostalgic. But it's also the only time where the Mage-Templar conflict takes center stage in the game and I love that. Plus, it's the time that "humanizes" everything (for lack of a better way to explain it). It breathes life into the story and sets the foundations for the rest of it. Helps to start give shape to the "why". I love it to pieces.

Also...why are all the Fereldan men so fine? The hunter, Corporal Vale, Recruit Whittle, Bron, even Dennet would’ve been back in his prime? And it goes without saying Cullen, Alistair, and even Carver. I get the feeling the Maker has a favorite nation as well...

As for Ana, I think this part of the journey is hard for her. She feels like she can't catch her breath. Can't process anything that has happened and continues to happen. She just keeps getting pushed along because of this Mark she has on her hand that she doesn't even understand. She doesn't know how she got it, doesn't fully know what it can do, only knows that it's tried to claim her life multiple times already as well as being the reason so many people want her dead. They think she did it. She doesn't know herself because she doesn't know what this Mark is. But she stopped the Breach from growing and now she's the Herald of Andraste and people look at her as if she's not human—but not in the way she’s used to. Instead of fear or hatred, it’s…something possibly more dangerous than both. She just wants to be Ana. Just wants to help people who are hurting without them worshiping her in return. She just wants to put a stop to the mage and templar fighting. I think the first moment she really feels like she can breathe is when she climbs atop Dennet's horse and humors Senna with her courses. Up until that point (and afterwards), the poor girl has barely been holding it together. Cullen asking her how she feels about being called the Herald was a desperately needed reprieve, making her feel grounded, but being able to ride a horse and do something silly in light of all that was happening helped her to get her feet under her (so to speak)…until she returns to Haven.

[lycanthrope-trait]

Quick question

I've seen so many people say Cullen was originally supposed to be bi but I haven't seen ANY official source, I'm not accusing people of lying or anything but if someone could point me in the direction of some official source or send me a link or anything that'd be great

[the-arcane-archivist]

This stems from the datamined dialogue in this video. Specifically, 2:09 for a timestamp. There was another video, but it has been deleted and I can’t find what it contained.

Here’s the voiced exchange between a male Inquisitor and Dorian from the first video:

Inquisitor: “I meant I wanted to talk about us.” Dorian: “‘Us’? Don’t be silly. I’m told you’re…involved with someone else.” [It seems that the Inquisitor was meant to have a few options for a response here, but don’t quote me on that. Still, I broke them down in how they seem to have been intended.]

Inquisitor (Response A): “Why should that matter? What do you think I’m asking?” Dorian: “I’m not interested in complications, is that so difficult to understand?”

Inquisitor (Response B): “That’s not true.” Dorian: “I see. Do they know that?”

Inquisitor (Response C): “Perhaps. But I’d rather be involved with you.” Dorian: “If you wish to talk about ‘us’, then talk to them first. Ensure there are no…misunderstandings.” Inquisitor: “I thought you’d be…” Dorian: “Less cautious? Not this far south.”

[These next few lines (including the one in question) seem to be separate from the rest, so it could be a follow-up/final statement to the conversation no matter which response was chosen or it could be this response vs the prior ones based on circumstances in the game.] Dorian: “Talk to Cassandra first. There’s no way I’m crossing paths with that woman.” Or “Talk to Josephine first. She’s a sweet girl. I wouldn’t want her eyeballing me every time I cross the courtyard.” Or “As I said before, talk to Cullen first. It’s quite simple.” [The Iron Bull is not named despite also being a romance choice for a male Inquisitor. Whether that is indicative of where this fell in development timing or not, I have no idea as I know Bull was race locked at one point because of animation issues.]

Below is someone’s experience with the Bi!Cullen mod again stating that there is voiced dialogue in places. This video shows a voiced exchange between Cassandra and a male Inquisitor presumably in a romance with Cullen. Another mod, Cullen’s Romance for Anyone, (which I believe is seen here and is described in the other two following pics) shows the fully voiced ending the first pic is talking about.

Based on old Reddit posts, YouTube comments, and both old and new posts on Tumblr, the assumption is that because of time restrictions from Cullen only being added on when development was extended by a year that they ultimately cut his romance down to just the female Lavellan and Trevelyan because of complications with animations and limited resources.

However, as seems to be the usual with Cullen, there’s more to it than that.

To start, this archive (thank you DA wiki) of the Official BioWare Forum gives some more insight. If you filter by only the BioWare employee’s responses you’ll get the devs’ feedback about the romances.

David Gaider did say that animations and such made having numerous bisexual/all races romances difficult which meant if they’d followed DA2’s romance formula, Inquisition would’ve had a limited number of romances overall. However, he and other devs (Mike Laidlaw and Allan Schumacher) that speak in this thread repeatedly state that it was not ultimately the intention for Inquisition to follow DA2’s romance formula and instead the want and focus was on “representation of all sexualities” because that lended to “realism”, more “varied storytelling”, and characters being “internally consistent”.

Here’s a few pics from the aforementioned forum archive that are most relevant, but there’s more on there if anyone would like to read:

Below is part of an interview between Lady Insanity (Ashe) and David Gaider (timestamp 37:19)—

Ashe: “What is the reason behind Cullen being only romancable by a female Inquisitor? (Pause) Is there any reasoning?”

David Gaider: “Um, that’s sort of a larger question. I think that leads to a question of why did we change the system from say DA2 to Inquisition in terms of DA2 had four characters that were bisexual, why did we change that? ‘Cause I mean, it’s like, why…why did Cullen…‘why was Cullen, uh, made straight?’ is really more of a question of ‘why do we have straight characters?’ And, and gay characters? I, I…so I mean, I…my answer to that specific question would be because that’s where we eventually landed. Like, because [we decided] some characters have to be straight, and some characters have to be gay, and some characters have to be bisexual. And once we made that decision, that means now they’re not going to be these other things. So there’s a simple answer, which is, yeah, because that’s what we decided. The more complicated question is well, why did we decide that there must be straight characters? And that was more…and I’ve said this every time I’ve talked about the, the romance system for DA2, for instance, every time I said given the resources, if we had enough romances to go around, I would prefer to have set sexualities. And that making them all bisexual is a compromise of sorts. And not one that I really like because bisexuality itself is not a compromise. It is a distinct sexuality. And that I also didn’t want to tell four bisexual stories, so it varied even in DA2. Isabela, for instance, is very, uh, open about her sexuality, she talks about romancing either sex and then you go all the way down to Merrill who doesn’t mention it at all. And the idea was to leave room for ambiguity, but I think what we ultimately landed on was that that ambiguity wasn’t necessarily helpful. I know some people like it, some people really hate it, some people felt it diluted their characters and that led to…that, that sort of ran down a road of what people call ‘playersexuality’ which isn’t a term I really like ‘cause it sort of implies the player’s perception [of a character’s] sexuality dictates their sexuality, dictates the reality of their sexuality. So, that if you’re, er, a man romancing Merrill and because she never talks about her sexuality that lets you…‘pretend’ that she’s straight, if you like. But you seeing her as straight does not make her straight. She is bisexual, even if you’re not exposed to that. That sort of, like, that’s the same as a bisexual person. A bisexual person—a bisexual woman—can be wrote, can be in a current relationship with a man; that doesn’t make her straight, she’s still bisexual. So, I mean…so us changing that is not that we didn’t want to deal with that, it’s that okay, getting away from the ambiguity as a thing we thought some people might like, we’re like, okay, we’d like to have set sexualities so we can tell different stories.”

Ashe: “Okay.”

David Gaider: “We can have actual representation. We can tell stories…so there are bisexual stories adjacent to gay stories, and straight stories as well. It is about having all types of people and not needing the ambiguity means we can include that as distinct parts of that character.”

There’s also a deleted thread from a BioWare employee stating it was only cut for time constraints that David Gaider corrected by saying that Cullen is canonically straight. (I can’t find it anywhere or I would share pics, but it is referenced here. Note: I’m only including this link as proof that this exchange existed, not because I endorse this or similar posts by this user.)

So in conclusion, yes, it may have been a concept in earlier stages of development, but from everything I could find, the lead writer and devs stuck to the explanation that the finalized sexualities for each character, including Cullen and Solas’s gender and race locks (plus Sera’s soft preference for non-elven females) were intentional because they are what were ultimately determined by the writing team to suit the respective characters and their stories best.

***Disclaimer***I’m providing the information I could find pertaining to OP’s question. Since this fandom is toxic, let me be clear: I do not give a flying fart in space what people do. It makes no difference to me. Fans can headcanon, fanfic, mod, and art whatever they like to their heart’s content. It should go without saying that not everyone does or has to adhere to the perception of Cullen being bisexual. It isn’t hateful, “phobic”, invalidating of real-life sexualities, participating in erasure, bigotry, or whatever other asinine rhetoric people might try to say. But because I know this fandom, I’ll also add this: if you feel the need to hate someone for their position on Cullen’s sexuality that opposes your own, that’s your problem. You don’t have to like it, you don’t have to agree with it, whichever position it may be, but that doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk to strangers on the internet.

[animezinglife]

Characters are people, and the vast majority of real people have preferences.

If Dorian or Sera were originally "meant to be bi," it would not be any more relevant than any idea previously tossed around about Cullen that got scrapped (if one even did, though I do not think the evidence is there to support it). If it never makes it to the page, it doesn't count. Dorian and Sera have canon sexualities, too: they're both attracted to their same sex. That is a concrete, factual aspect of them that has not been contested by any evidence from within the series: Dorian is shown to be exclusively attracted to men (though he playfully flirts back with a female Inquisitor, as is very normal for a female x gay male friendship in real life), and Sera is shown to be exclusively attracted to women.

And that is fine, just as it's fine for Cullen and Cassandra to be exclusively attracted to the sex opposite their own.

Cullen has only ever been attracted to women in the games: specifically, human or elven women. Thus, that is what's canon. His romance is only available to a player playing as a human or elven female and, depending on which option you choose, only a human or elven woman can marry him.

Characters having a set sexuality like real people isn’t a set of shackles—it’s an opportunity to create another character and explore different options. I’ve seen the same type of complaints towards Cassandra, when in reality, playing as a male character to suit her actually changes the feel of the game and makes the playthrough feel fresh.

Pursuing romance in these games takes time and effort, and I understand well what a barrier that can be. That said, I'd argue that if taking time for the romance is an issue for someone, they probably weren't interested in getting truly invested in the first place.

Fiction gives us all the opportunity to walk in someone else's shoes. It gives us all the opportunity to delve into who they are, both internal and external conflicts, thoughts, desires, hurts, and loves.

I will always encourage people to take advantage of those opportunities. It helps us be more empathetic and accepting. It helps us grow and see things in a new way, as long as we're open to it. It is the mark of an educated individual to be able to entertain an idea, even if you don't necessarily accept it for yourself.

Though I too have seen and felt similar ugliness from people towards others who simply adhere to and like what the canon storyline has offered, and it tends to only ever work one way. It's often very underhanded and passive-aggressive at that.

We should not be putting others down simply for engaging with a game or characters as they see fit.

Nobody has the right to try to control the narrative around him or anyone else.

What we all have the right to do is speak freely about this series and these characters on our own blogs, and there's not a single reason why we can't still respect each other despite any differences that may emerge. Just because I'm married to my Cullen-is-completely-straight beliefs doesn't mean someone else doesn't have equal right to their own opposing beliefs, and I respect their right to that belief fully even if I don't agree.

Because it's not about me. It's not about that person who holds an opposing belief. At the end of the day, we both love Cullen—that's what it should be about.

I would also (gently) advise caution with the "so many" mentality: Tumblr is not exactly a hub for the diversity of ideas, nor does it represent the majority of DA players throughout the years.

Play the games, watch the playthroughs, and make your own, informed opinions. That's always the way to go.

[the-arcane-archivist]

Find Mother Giselle

"Don't let them touch me, Mother. They're magic is--" "Turned to noble purpose. Surely their magic is no more evil than your blade?" "But--" "Lie still. Allow them to ease your suffering." "What you said to that soldier..." "We do not teach that magic is evil. We teach that pride is evil--and does not corrupt only mages."

"Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call, as they will listen to no other."

"You could turn the Inquisition into a force that can deliver us...or destroy us."

xxx

Anaia's Journey: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

[the-arcane-archivist]

Happy (Late) Birthday @kogarashi-art! Thank you again for the chibi Cullen and Ana and for including me in your awesome birthday idea!

[the-arcane-archivist]

Cullen and Anaia’s encounter in the Chantry after the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

xxx

Cullen x Ana Romance Vids: 1 | 2 | 3

[the-arcane-archivist]

The Chains They Placed

Part 1 of The Unbreaking Series Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II Relationship: Cullen Rutherford/Female Surana Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Dragon Age: Inquisition Ensemble, Lavellan Clan (Dragon Age), Non-Inquisitor MC, Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Female Surana (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Rylen (Dragon Age), Bethany Hawke, Minave (Dragon Age), Original Characters Additional Tags: Implied Sexual Content, Lyrium Withdrawal, Lyrium Addiction, Romance, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Canon-Typical Behavior, Sided with Mages & Templars, Dreamers (Dragon Age), Fade Spirits, The Fade (Dragon Age), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Fix-It of Sorts, Andrastians, Dalish Elven Culture & Customs (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford Has Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Cullen Rutherford has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Fluff, Slow Burn, Canon Compliant - Some Divergence, Attempting to Fix Cullen Rutherford’s Redemption Arc

Chapter 37: Ties That Bind

Chapter 36 | Chapter 38 | AO3

CULLEN

Commander Rutherford,

I am sorry to have missed out on such a celebration, but I thank the Maker that our friends have a reason to celebrate and are well. For your sake, I am glad Seeker Pentaghast was there to spare you from the merrymaking. Perhaps I can offer you a lesson in the art of it upon my return? Maybe if you occasionally spent an evening in the tavern instead of your tent, you could at least learn the basics?

Praise be to Our Lady that such progress is being made. Maker knows the folk of the Crossroads need such improvements. I hope Vale and his men find their new post amenable.

I am very pleased to hear that Dennet will be with us. I look forward to seeing the man again and observing how he cares for our mounts. I have no doubt Captain Rylen is doing his utmost to have Haven prepared and I will be excited to see the changes to Haven.

I, too, look forward to our conversation. Thank you for sending Researcher Minaeve's notes, I will enjoy reading over them.

Maker watch your steps on your journey back,

Talitha

  I could not stop the chuckle that came at her teasing, nor the blush at her offer to teach me how to make merry. The thought of her approaching me, her lovely eyes sparkling with mischief as they met mine, before her rosy lips parted in a smile. Her rich voice coaxing me to join her, a slender hand outstretched in invitation to dance with her. Warmth spread through my chest and pooled in my gut as I thought of taking her hand in mine and placing the other on the curve of her hip.      The dances of the farming folk had been lively and quick, but as the night progressed some slower, sweet songs had been played. The wedded couples and sweethearts had surrounded the flames of the fire, entwined in each others arms, gently swaying to the tunes. I imagined her pressed against me as we too, swayed to the music. A contented sigh slipping from her lips, my name on her tongue before she lifted her eyes to mine. I would stare into those pools of jade, ringed in grey, and finally tell her what I wanted to say all those years ago. “I love you.”    Would that be enough? Would those words even convey what I felt for her? How would she react? Would her beautiful face shine with joy and surprise - my knees threatening to give out? Would she…would she kiss me? Or would she reject me as she rightfully should? What if she confessed to me first? How would she say it? What would I say?

“Letter from yer lover?” Rylen’s voice spoke, pulling me from my thoughts.

  We’d arrived back in Haven the day before. I was now sat in the new command tent Josephine had ordered to be erected in my absence. I’d argued with the woman that it was unnecessary; my prior accommodations had been adequate for my duties.   Lady Montilyet had refused to back down from her decision, claiming the growing Inquisition’s Commander could not be seen working out of a drab little tent by our noble benefactors; she then proceeded to request that I get a new set of armor, minus the "ridiculous" fur mantle, as she felt I looked like some mixture between a disheveled templar and bear cub with mange. I knew I needed to track the woman down and apologize for the unkind remarks I had made in retort, but I was still nursing the offense she'd given my pride at her assessment. Bear cub with mange.    I had been provided with a few comfortable chairs, a decent desk, a small table, cot and brazier. Despite my objections, I would admit the change was welcome. I no longer felt cramped; I could speak with those needing my attention out of the cold and without feeling as if we were in each other’s laps. The desk had provided the perfect spot to sort the never ending paperwork.   I'd even allowed myself a moment to enjoy the fact that the space was mine. Not the shared barracks or templar chambers, not a pitched tent shared with Rylen, not the bedroom my siblings and I had all shared together. Yet, I still had to spend more time out of the tent than in as eventually the canvas walls felt too much like the walls of that magic cage. My skin would crawl, nausea would roll and I could swear I felt the eyes of the demon on me. 

“You know I have no 'lover', Rylen,” I scoffed as I folded the letter and tucked it away.

  “Mince,” he contended with a grin, “You were smiling and blushing like a lad.”   Rylen made his way over to the empty chair across from me, moved a stack of papers out of the way and sat. He wrenched the helmet from his head and ran a hand through his dark waves. The movements caused the smell of lyrium on him to drift my way and my mouth watered in anticipation. I swallowed down the excess saliva and tried to breathe through my mouth to block out the smell awakening the slumbering beast. I reached out for my water goblet and began drinking greedily, knowing it wouldn't sate the thirst.   “I know, Cullen. We all know ye got a lass on yer mind, but ye haven't made any...headway," he said with a wink.

I nearly choked on my water, pulling the goblet away as I had a coughing fit. “Sweet Maker, Rylen,” I swore at him between coughs.

Rylen laughed in that easy way of his at my obvious discomfort. "It’s why ye stomp around here, barking orders like a mabari.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I growled as I dried myself off, ignoring the hot tips of my ears.

“It means ye need to walk up to yer lass, give her right proper winch on those lovely lips and take her to bed.” Rylen rolled his neck. “Work off some o' that pent up frustration and give us all some fec—”

“—Rylen,” I warned.

The man met my eyes, his own serious. “No, Cul. Ye know I’m right here. What in Andraste’s name are ye waiting for? For some other eejit to come along and have a go at her? She’s a right bonnie lass, Cullen. And I'm not generally attracted to elven females. Ye think no one else is gonna notice?”

  I knew he was right. She'd had plenty of suitors in the tower as...affairs were rampant within the walls, but she'd refused them all. Open relationships and marriage had been forbidden between the mages, but we'd never been instructed to stop things carried out in secret. I'd always wondered why she'd rejected the attentions, but had never had the courage to ask.   Then Kirkwall... Your fault. I had to ease the sudden grip on my quill to keep from snapping it in half. Don't you ever blame yourself for that again, Cullen.    “That’s hardly a good enough reason to simply bed her, Rylen,” I pinned the man down with my gaze, "She deserves far more than that."

  Rylen relented and sighed, “Of course she does.” So, he's trying to rile me up on purpose, then.   “I’m just trying to say that ye need to get a move on. Probably doing a terrible job at it—sorry, Cul. As yer friend, I'm advising ye to start wooing the lass.”

I shifted in my seat, my ears burning. “I-I have been…trying. As much as I can as her superior officer; it's not appropriate in our current state.”

“Well, that's going to change eventually, right? Ye'll essentially be equals? Better lay the groundwork so yer ready when the time comes. Armor, a dagger, a sketchbook and a few letters is hardly wooing,” Rylen groaned, “Armor and a weapon…that’s not what a lass wants. The sketchbook was a better attempt—at least that’s an interest of hers. Letters are not bad, but only if yer teasing and flirting in yer writing; not yer usual formal and to the point.”

  I was becoming genuinely curious now, but I refused to show it to Rylen, so I continued my work. I knew Rylen was…more experienced in these matters. So, against my better judgment I asked: “How does one…flirt?” I kept my gaze on the report I was writing, not daring to meet the man's eyes.   "I-I mean...I knew once, but I have, um, fallen out of practice."

Rylen boomed a laugh. “Seriously, Cullen?”

“Is everything alright, gentlemen?” Cassandra’s accented voice spoke from the open tent flap.

“Seeker Cassandra,” Rylen greeted.

Cassandra nodded at him, “Captain. I heard a loud noise.”

Rylen smiled wickedly at me. “I was laughing at our Commander, Seeker.”

I shot Rylen a murderous glare. “Cassandra does not need to know why, Rylen.”

Cassandra took the other seat after removing the contents. “Well, I would like to know why, Cullen.”

  “Our Commander has an interest in a lass,” Rylen began to which I glared harder, promising death. The man only smiled wider.   “Dafty that he is, he’s failing miserably thus far. Perhaps he could use a woman’s perspective?”

  “Interest?” Cassandra questioned, her dark eyes searching my face, which no doubt betrayed me in its deep flush. Her lips twitched, humor lighting her normally serious demeanor.   “I see. I cannot say I am…well-versed in these matters, but I will offer advice if you wish.”

"I have no such wish," I mumbled, "There is no need to trouble yourself."

  “The last question he posed was ‘How does one…flirt?’” Rylen mimicked me almost perfectly and I couldn’t help a chuckle. Even Cassandra let out a breathy laugh.   "I dare say our mighty Commander is in dire need of help."

“Have you no…experience, Cullen?” Cassandra quirked a brow. She was gently prodding, not teasing.

  “I-I wouldn't say that. Well, she was the last...I mean, I-It's just..." I rolled my eyes to the roof of the tent, sending up a silent prayer. Andraste, preserve me. "Why are we discussing this?” I grumbled. “This is hardly a matter of importance.”

  Cassandra seemed disappointed. “It is important.”   I met her eyes, there was concern there as she glanced me over. I was sure she found the evidence I wanted to keep hidden. The light sheen of sweat that was becoming ever present, the shadows under my eyes as I kept avoiding sleep until I couldn't any longer, and the weight I had lost. Cassandra was the only one that knew what I was attempting to do. I forced my now dry throat to swallow as the thirst licked its way up from my gut again.   “You work so diligently, I am surprised to hear you could have your attention diverted. She must be very special.”

“She is,” I voiced before I thought better of it. “I-I mean…”

Cassandra sat up straighter as her interest peaked. “Who is it?”

“Sister Nightingale’s most recent recruit,” Rylen chimed in. I cleared my throat awkwardly.

  Cassandra looked between Rylen and I for a moment, digesting what he'd just divulged. Her gaze found mine again, her eyes softening, “Of course." She  chuckled as if she should have known.   "Very special, indeed.” Cassandra knew a little of Meira and I's history, not as much as Rylen as we'd met shortly after I'd found her in Kirkwall, but neither of them knew the full truth.

“At least we know our Commander doesn’t suffer from a lack of taste,” Rylen agreed, "She's one bonnie lass."

“Then are you also interested, Captain?” Cassandra asked, her brow quirking. Her question was serious, which caused Rylen's roguish smile to falter.

A fire lit in my chest at the idea, despite knowing the idiocy of it. Rylen was a loyal friend and not as much of a charmer as he tried to pretend. The man had a gentle heart that genuinely cared for those in his life: family, friends and lovers. When the right woman came along, he’d happily commit and settle down.

  “No, Seeker. She’s Cullen’s lass through and through; one look at her face when her eyes were on him and I knew." My heart stuttered in my chest at his words, but I couldn't bring myself to believe them.   "The big oaf is just too stubborn to do something about it.”

“You haven’t told her how you feel?” Cassandra gasped.

  I’d told Rylen most of what had happened while at the farmland, which caused him to use several colorful phrases to describe my lack of intelligence. He could not believe I had not kissed her or, at the very least, mustered up the courage to tell her how I felt about her. When I tried to explain to him that it had been confessed for me, in a way—as I would not discuss Kinloch with him—he'd scoffed and said if I wasn't the one saying it, it didn't count.   “According to Rylen…no.”

“According to me?” Rylen snorted, “According to everyone in the history of wooing a woman. Please, Seeker, explain to him what he needs to do.”

  “Well, what have you done thus far?” she asked.   Rylen quickly filled her in, though he left what happened at the farm up to me. I explained a few highlights, but avoided saying anything about what happened in the cabin. Both for Meira's sake and because I worried Cassandra would run me through if she thought I had in any way tarnished Meira's virtue. I pictured Cassandra easily filling the role of the knight in shining armor in the old tales Mother used to read to us as children. She'd fit the role better than I.    Cassandra contemplated for a moment. “I think you’re overreacting, Captain. I agree, the Commander should leave no room for doubt about his intentions, but you underestimate the number of things that can gain a female’s affection." She turned to me.   "Talitha does not seem the sort to have her attention easily gained—romantically speaking—so, if she's been receptive to your tries to cross the line of friendship, that's a good sign. I believe you’ve done well, thus far. Continue on your current course, but perhaps add in a few of Captain Rylen’s suggestions? Flowers or books, whatever you think would please her, time together when you can manage, but even more so when you cannot, and Cullen?“

She didn’t finish until I met her eyes, my face burning, but I asked, “Yes?”

“Touch her,” she murmured.

I blinked, for I did not believe I'd heard her correctly. "What?"

Her own cheeks went a little pink, to my astonishment. I had witnessed Cassandra in a state less than serious only once before. "I said 'touch her', Cullen."

My hand flew to the back of my neck as the skin prickled with heat. "What-what do you mean? A-As Rylen...suggests?"

  Cassandra made a disgusted noise in her throat. "Absolutely not."  I glanced at Rylen who now looked like a wounded pup and I had to stifle a laugh.    "Intimacy should be the culmination of a romance, not the beginning of it; at least, in my opinion. Coming only after a proper pursuit. You've taken the initial steps, but you've given no real chase as of yet."   From the pounding in my face, I knew I had to be positively scarlet. She spoke about it so nonchalantly and I could hardly bring myself to think about it without forming knots in my gut. I said nothing as I turned my attention back to the report, beginning to furiously scratch what no doubt had to be nonsense across the parchment. I'll fix it later.

"As in marriage first?" Rylen asked.

  The image of me on a knee in front of Meira with a ring held out came unbidden. Her blushing in white as she said her vows. A dizzying lightness swirled in my gut at the thought. Then I imagined how terribly I would fumble with my words trying to propose, how I'd most likely drop the ring or trip in my nervousness and crash into her—probably causing us both to fall to our deaths—and pushed the thought away. Sweet Andraste, Rutherford, get a hold of yourself.      I glanced up at the two when a silence fell. Rylen was studying Cassandra as she turned his question over in her mind. Though friends, Rylen found Cassandra perplexing and did his best to try and puzzle her out. She was an enigma to any who didn't know her: a fierce warrior that hid her soft heart, sense of humor and longing for love.   I'd realized her hard outer-shell was simply a front when I'd caught her reading one of Varric's...suggestive serials on our travels to Haven. I hadn't known what it was about when I caught her with it, but her reaction made me curious. She had been flushed, stammering and unable to meet my eyes. At the first opportunity, I'd snuck a peek at where she'd left a piece of cloth as a mark.   One paragraph in and heat had lanced through my entire being as the salacious words met my eyes. I'd quickly slammed the book shut and put it back where I found it—desperately wanting to pluck my eyes out and burn the words from my mind—all the while worried a Chantry Mother would materialize out of nowhere to beat me with a stick until I perished. Only to bring me back and beat me to death again--the only time a Mother would gladly sanction the use of necromancy. 

Cassandra shifted in her seat, pulling me from my thoughts; a blush gracing her sharp cheekbones. "That is...a very direct question, Captain…the pursuit does not necessarily need to end in marriage—not that it should be the end—but an assurance of love. That could take a number of forms. However, I find the idea of waiting for marriage wonderfully romantic. Just as I find the idea of…passion occurring in the right setting at the right time, romantic. Everyone—every female—has their own idea; it is the pursuer's duty to figure it out." I had to fight a snort at how she described it all: so clinical and restrained, despite her form giving away the eagerness with which she wanted to speak about romance.

"Hmm," Rylen made a noncommittal noise in his throat. "So what do you suggest then, Seeker? For our Commander, I mean?"

  Cassandra's dark eyes met mine again, she stammered for a moment before continuing on. Her stubborn nature winning out over her obvious embarrassment.    "Offer her praise, encouragement and support whenever it’s earned and you can. Recognize her hard work. Do little things for her. As for touching her: curl her hair behind her ear, take her hand in yours when appropriate, place your hand on the small of her back to lead her through a room, press yourself close to her when your standing together, lean into her, nudge her shoulder or elbow, place your hand on her arm. Whenever there is an appropriate excuse, break into her personal space." Cassandra opened her mouth, hesitated and then went on.   "If she doesn't shy away from your touch, you'll know for certain that she is receptive to your advances. If she does then stop and give her time."

I cleared my throat. "I've done...some of those things."

"Did she shy away?" Cassandra asked. 

   "Um...no." I shifted in my seat and coughed. I placed my elbows on the desk and steepled my fingers in front of my mouth to hide my growing smirk.   "She kissed me on the cheek...several times. She also...would, um, touch me...too." As those words left my mouth, I wanted to slam my head into the desk to end this misery. She would touch me too. Maker, Rutherford, you sound like a pervert. 

A humored smile broke Cassandra's normally stone-like face at the same time Rylen's lips curled suggestively, pulling the tattoos on his chin. "Then I think you have nothing to fear, Cullen. I believe if you continue to follow your instincts, you'll do just fine."

I flicked my gaze towards Rylen and leaned back in my chair, discreetly stretching the cramps in my calves out. "My Captain seems to disagree. He fears another will come in and sweep her off her feet if I do not...pick up the pace."

Cassandra snorted, "Men."

"What?" Rylen retorted, "Do you disagree?"

  Cassandra gave him a flat look, "Emphatically, Captain."  Rylen grumbled under his breath while Cassandra met my eyes again.   "From what I have observed of Talitha, she is hardly a female to be so easily dissuaded from whatever course she has chosen for herself. Dare I say, Commander, that she may give even your stubbornness a run for its money. I believe she's already proven that true to you.”

  I blushed further at the words Cassandra conveyed in her eyes, but didn't speak. Lest you forget Kirkwall. Not only Kirkwall, but all the attempts she made to bridge the gap before I had left.   Then the image of her standing tall, her foot slammed into the ground as ice magic swirled around. Eyes blazing, glossy hair curling out of her hood in the wind caused by her mana shifting reality around her as she raged at me. 'Don't you daredo that to me, Cullen'. I'd never seen her look so angry or so beautiful: cheeks flushed with the exertion; frost clinging to her hair, eyelashes and nose; her eyes full of anger at and for me. Yes, she could be very stubborn. 

  "She has, but...but there's—Maker's breath." I pinched the bridge of my nose. The all too familiar headache was beginning to pound behind my eyes and I could feel the tremor beginning in my hands.   "You both are well aware that there is plenty she should reject me for. I would hardly blame her—blame anyone—for doing so."

  We'd all become good friends on the road to Haven. Rylen and I already had been before Cassandra came with her offer, but with an ease I envied, the two had quickly developed their own rapport. In turn, they did their best to support me like siblings—a kindness I did not deserve, but they freely gave. Cassandra, normally so guarded, had let down her walls with Rylen and I quickly.   She confessed to me once that we reminded her of her brother. Rylen's easy temper and my strength and kindness. She'd done her best to hide it, but I could see her dark eyes glossing with tears as she spoke of him and I knew that he had died tragically. So, as much as their banter—usually at my expense—could cause me to bristle, I endured it.

Their smiles faltered as a mutual frustration passed through their faces at my last words. Rylen spoke first, "Cullen, if I may, that's a load of Void-coated jobbies."

"Indeed," agreed Cassandra.

  I looked between the two of them and sighed. "I appreciate the encouragement, but it is not a load of—whatever you just said." I stood, hiding the weakness in my legs by using the back of the chair and my grip on the desk to pull myself up. I did not want to discuss this anymore; it was embarrassing.   "If you'll both excuse me, I need to be getting back to my duties."

"You were taking a break?" Rylen asked, his voice teasing as he eyed the reports I'd been filling out as they tried to help.

"Well, I...no, I suppose not," I grumbled, "However, I need to go check the calibrations on the siege equipment."

Rylen groaned audibly, "Again?"

"Truly, Cullen, how often do you check the calibrations?" Cassandra questioned, "We've been back only a day and I've had to find you by the trebuchets no less than five times thus far."

"Perhaps the Commander likes the excuse to be able to flee from the rest of us?" Rylen wondered aloud, "Or he's like a child with a new toy?"

Cassandra's lips twitched, "I would say both are true. Though, right now he's running away as he'd rather be anywhere, but stuck in this tent as we discuss his love life. Calibrations..." she snorted.

I shifted on my feet trying to ease the weight of my body and armor off of them, their teasing hitting too close to the truth. "That's not—I would not ru—Andraste, preserve me."

  The two laughed before they stood and left the tent. Rylen letting Cassandra go first before turning to give me a wink as he pulled his helmet back on. I let out a breath, allowing my back to bend at the weight of my armor. Not even a full set and yet it seemed to be growing heavier every day, the fit already a little too large before I had lost a few pounds which was only adding to the discomfort; my legs harder to move forward as the lyrium still leeched from my bones.   I bit back a groan as I straightened myself out once again, the aches and pains screaming as I did so. Forcing my feet forward, I walked over to the small table by my cot and scooped up the mirror Josephine had ordered. My hair was a little disheveled, stubble getting worse and the bags under my eyes like two permanent bruises.   I splashed some cold water on my face from the basin nearby to clean off the sweat and dried my skin with a cloth. I could do nothing about the shadows beneath my eyes, my hands were shaking too much to try and shave, but I went to my trunk to fish out the jar of wax. Taking a small amount between my palms, I smoothed out the unruly curls. I readjusted my armor and mantle and let out a heavy sigh.   The thirst was starting to come in earnest now. Whenever I was around the templars, I could feel it and the longing called out to be sated. My mouth would water, my heart would thunder with anticipation and I would have to do everything in my power not to rip a philter off their belts. When it got that bad, I'd excuse myself and restrain my legs from running. I'd retch in the snow, my body trembling and slick with sweat.   All of that I could endure—I would endur—but the thing that I feared were the symptoms to come. They'd already started, though they were fewer and farther in between. The spelling of a word escaping me or forgetting a soldier's name; perhaps not unusual given the strain of my position, but I feared the worser truth. What if I forgot something important? Overlooked something that cost the soldiers' their lives unnecessarily? I’d begun double and triple checking everything.    Then the nightmares...there were nights it was harder to escape their grip. Rylen had even had to come in and shake me awake one night, saying I'd been shouting. Between being a Fereldan during the Blight and having been posted in Kirkwall, most recruits politely ignored it.   I plunged my hand into the pocket of my leather pants, my fingers running over the worn, cool metal of the coin Branson had pressed into my palm that day so many years ago. The old talisman had become a source of comfort as of late, my one reassurance that I was indeed awake, that all of this was really happening and not some elaborate vision the desire demon had conjured. I relished that the memory came to me so easily.

  I looked out at the lake as I stood upon the dock, closing my eyes to listen to the gentle sounds of the water lapping against the wood. The sun was just beginning to show itself, nervousness and excitement sitting equal in my chest as I anticipated what the day held. I took a deep breath to try and ease the knots in my gut.   Everything that I had been working towards—every moment my family had devoted to helping me reach my goal—was about to be rewarded when the Knight-Captain came to take me on to my training. So long as my parents agreed. As the sky lightened, I thought back on the past few years and all my family had done for me.    Father, golden hair and eyes. Boisterous laugh, broad smile and broader shoulders. Proud, protecting and strong. Father, who had taken the time to craft a wooden sword and shield for me to train with and given it to me on my tenth birthday, a matching set for Branson on his next birthday. Father, who at every free moment had helped me practice my archery. Father, who'd taught me how to work hard and be a man worthy of respect.   Mother, gentle and warm; who'd taught me what faith looked like, what caring for others meant and whom I had caught time and again beseeching the Maker on my behalf as I aimed to devote myself to His service. Mother, who'd ruffle my hair and place a soft hand on my cheek before saying how proud of me she was.    Mia, fierce and valiant; who still disapproved of my chosen path, but had done everything in her power to ensure I was prepared; who'd walked with me every day to the Chantry to ask the templars there to teach me all they could. Who, when they had scoffed at me the first time, had demanded they teach me with such ferocity I thought the grown men would flinch.   Branson, witty and jovial, who'd taken every chance he could to tease "Ser Cullen", but had been the first to volunteer to practice sword fighting with me. I'd watched him grow in his own skill and earned my first sparring scar from him. We'd both grinned wickedly when we presented broken fingers to Mother.    And Rosalie...a lump formed in my throat as I thought of her innocent face. Amber eyes dancing and soft, golden curls bouncing as she ran through the tall grass. She'd always pout about being the apostate for me to chase, until "Ser Cul" started chasing her. I'd let her get some distance before closing it. I'd catch her around the middle and cause us both to descend into laughter as I tickled her soft belly. Her laughter like the chimes of the tinkling First Day bells. 

  "Cul," Branson's voice spoke from behind me. I quickly swiped an arm across my face, knowing he wouldn't let me live it down if he saw me crying. I turned to find him looking slightly bashful. We were so alike in looks, though he favored mother. We all shared Father's golden curls and eyes, but Branson and Rosalie had gotten Mother’s beauty while Mia and I had gotten Father's handsomeness. He closed the gap between us.   "It's...almost time."

"I know," I nodded. "I was about to return."

"I...wanted to give you this first," Branson murmured.

"What?" I asked.

He grabbed my hand and pressed something into my palm. "It's for luck, don't lose it," he murmured before turning to jog back towards the house.

  I uncurled my fingers to find a coin. I smirked, knowing it wasn't some lucky coin, just what he happened to have in his pocket as he came to find me. Yet, I cherished the gesture all the same. Slipping it into my own pocket, I hurried to catch up to him. I flung an arm around his neck and ruffled his hair.   "For luck, Bran? You do care."

He snarled and shoved my arm off.  "Shove off, Cul. Of course I care, you dolt," he grumbled, "You better write."

I smiled broadly, "You know I will." I ruffled his hair again, causing him to smack my hands away before tackling me in a hug.

  That day had been difficult, despite my excitement. Everyone had cried, but Rosalie most of all. I remembered her wrapping her small arms around my legs, begging her Cul not to leave. Mother and Mia had to pull her off and hush her, while fighting back tears themselves. Father and Branson had stood tall as they sent me off. The Knight-Captain had clasped my shoulder and said something about having a good family.      My chest hollowed out at the thought that I would never see Mother or Father again. Would they still be proud of their son, who'd let anger blind him and caused others to suffer because of it?  Regret threatened to overwhelm me as I recalled my promise to Branson to write. I had initially, often.   Then Uldred and Kirkwall. I didn't know what to write—didn't want Mia to suspect. Eventually a letter reached me in Kirkwall and I read it. Full of reprimands, the news of my parents' passing and updates on Branson and Rosalie—I'd been both comforted and gutted. Knowing they were still the family I had left behind, but I was not the brother they knew. She'd sent letter after letter after that, but I'd ignored them all. Even the ones Bran and Rose sent. Does he—do they all hate me?    After several attempts to write and a lot of trying to convince myself I shouldn't, I'd sent a letter to Mia telling her I'd left the Order and joined the Inquisition. I had yet to receive anything in return. How old would they be now?    I did the calculations in my head, forcing my throbbing mind to work. Mia would be around thirty-three, Branson would be twenty-seven, and Rosalie would be twenty-three. Sorrow coiled my spine at the thought of how much I had missed. Mia would no doubt be strong and capable; Branson, a carefree, handsome man. What was he up to? Has he found a girl?    And Rosalie, Rose, Rosie...she'd be a woman. A woman. I recalled braiding her soft curls for Mother and how Rose would squeal in delight at the masterful plaits I would create. Maker's breath, a woman. Would she even remember me? I could hardly believe I was nearly thirty, having turned twenty-nine just days ago.  I rubbed my fingers over the coin some more, I flicked my eyes to the chest that contained all the unopened letters from Mia—I need to start reading them—counting to ten, breathing slowly in and out before exiting the tent. 

...

"A skull? On a...staff?" I asked.      Solas's blue-grey eyes met mine, a hardness in their light. His body was relaxed, but his gaze gave him away. He was nervous about what these things were.   He'd been in the Hinterlands, searching out relics of the elves that he believed could help strengthen the Veil. Magical items, but ones he had determined upon activation, would hinder the opening of any more rifts or passing through of demons in the area their magic covered. I had allotted a few of the recruits to go with him in order to keep the elf protected, but he had declined such protection, citing that he'd attract less attention alone.   While on his travels, he'd stumbled across a glowing, whispering skull sat on a staff. He'd looked through the eyes of it to find that it revealed magical items across the landscape. He'd tracked down the ones revealed, one of which now sat between us on the desk. The thing was ominous and how it came to be found even more so.

"Why bring it to me?" I asked, perplexed.

His full lips twitched. "Former or no, you think like a templar. I have never seen such a thing in my travels. I wanted to know if you could discern anything from the object or perhaps if you could tell anything about this." He placed the skull on the desk. “I’ve conducted a few tests, but all have been inconclusive.”

  With a grimace, I picked up the skull first. It was not bleached white, so it was most likely not very old. I turned it over in my hands, there was a crystal embedded in the back that must have allowed the user to peer through the eyes and use whatever magic had been cast. I could feel the spells, but the magic was barely clinging to the bone and crystal, so I could not discern what they were. Yet beneath the outermost layer, I could sense something familiar and—   "Blood magic."

  Solas nodded, his slender fingers holding his cleft chin. His brows knitted together as he looked between the two objects. "I fear their origin, Commander. Even more so who is behind their creation and what they are after." He leaned forward to pick up the "shard" as he called it and looked it over.   "These shards far predate these...skulls and just about everything else in the area, but I can find no record of what they are anywhere."

  I leaned forward to grab the shard and the carved stone that had held it. It was definitely of magical origin and old. The carved skull that had held the shard in its mouth on the front of the stone was near monstrous. I turned the stone over, expecting there to be something on the back, but it was blank.   "A mystery indeed. Were there others? Did they seem concentrated in a particular area?"

"The others found more," Solas informed, absently.

  As we awaited Meira and Ellana's return, the advisors and I had sent Varric, Bull, and Asaala out to see to requests and odd jobs within the immediate area. Protecting caravans, escorting refugees, helping rebuild. Blackwall was tracking down more leads about the Wardens, trying to figure out where his brethren may have gone and searching for artifacts pertaining to them that may have been left behind to avoid their being destroyed. The Chargers and some of the soldiers were currently scouring the remains of the Temple for anything of use, looking for what Solas believed had been behind the explosion. Some kind of magical device, as he did not believe any being capable of releasing that kind of magic without aid.   Lady Josephine was juggling several different visiting nobles and disputes, while seeing to the final steps to securing our audience with the Lord Seeker. Leliana was seeing to final preparations of her plan for the envoy with the Magister in Redcliffe and had her agents combing the area for remnants of the cult that had occupied Haven before the Chantry had come to build the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I'd hardly believed the account Leliana had given of her and the Hero's run-in with the cultists, wondering what poor souls had to clean up the village and Chantry before the Conclave. 

"There was no clear pattern to their locations, other than being set high enough they could overlook vast expanses of the landscape," Solas continued, "Hopefully, we will find clues as to their origin and purpose in our travels. For now, if more are found, I would advise collecting these shards and removing the skulls after they have been used. We do not know who built them, nor where the skulls came from; however, we both know blood magic was used in their creation. I believe it unwise to let such things stay intact given our current state."

"I agree," I nodded. "I apologize that I could not be of more help, Solas, but I thank you for bringing this to my attention none the less."

  The elf stood from his seat and offered a slight bow, "Commander."

He reached a lithe hand for his staff, his fingers curling around the shaft. Crafted of what I assumed was ironwood, with runes and images carved into the surface that glowed faintly as his hand held it; the top had been whittled into several small shoots to look like roots. It was a fine instrument, despite being simplistic in its make. I suspected the elf male had crafted it himself, and to the untrained eye it would appear as no more than a walking stick.

At the thought that he'd made it himself, I spoke out. "Solas."

The male turned his eyes to me, a brow quirked which caused the scar on his forehead to pucker slightly. "Yes, Commander?"

I shifted and cleared my throat. "Could I ask you...that is-what do you know about making a staff?"

  I had his full attention now as curiosity lit in his eyes. "A great deal, if I am to be honest." He held his own across his palms.  "I crafted this one myself. What do you wish to know?"

"I would like to have one made...for a friend," I muttered, “However, I know little of the process. It was the duty of the First Enchanter to have staves crafted.”

Solas's lips twitched. "Certainly, Commander. A staff should reflect the user to truly work properly. I assume in the Circle, it was viewed as no more than a tool and one that could be used by any mage." The elf's gaze grew scrutinizing which caused my back to stiffen. There was an accusation in his words, even if he did not speak it outright.

I clenched my jaw briefly. "That is correct." 

He continued to stare at me with that accusatory gaze. 'You think like a templar'. I had to remind myself that he was an apostate and had most likely not had friendly dealings with templars in the past. I breathed out, forcing myself to relax. I may think like a templar, but I am a templar no longer. It was hard not to feel the hypocrisy in the thought as my hackles raised at the elf's mana swimming around him, powerful and experienced. Not soothing like Meira's, but raw and contained. He knew control, restraint and I had no doubt could kill me in an instant if he so desired.

The elf's lips pulled in a smirk as if he were reading my thoughts. "Let us walk, Commander. I could use the exercise as you tell me about this...friend."

  I stood, fighting down the groan of pain I wanted to let out as my limbs protested at the movement. Solas's eyes studied me like a scholar studying a specimen, his head tilting slightly.   "Lead the way," I gestured out the tent.

  We walked around Haven which allowed me to see to a few other duties at the same time. Speaking with Rylen, checking the progress on our fortifications, handing off a few reports to Minaeve and the other advisors, checking on the mounts and speaking with Dennet.   Awkwardly, I described Meira as best I could. I could not fight the feeling that Solas was merely playing a prank on me, knowing full well who we were discussing and not actually requiring any of the information I shared. The feeling was confirmed when I caught the corners of his mouth fighting to curl up in a smile.   "You do not actually need to know any of this, do you?"

The elf chuckled. "I am afraid not, Commander. I bet Master Tethras five silvers that I could get you to confess your feelings for Talitha to me in no more than three maneuvers. I triumphed in two. Forgive me for the cruel joke, but it was certainly entertaining and I will have made ten silvers off the dwarf."

"Maker's breath," I groaned, "I am a fool, aren't I?" I murmured more to myself than to the elf.

The elf faced me, one hand holding his staff, the other resting on his low back. "Not at all, Commander. Perhaps foolish at times, but not a fool."

"Meaning?" I asked.

"Keeping what could be perceived as flattery to a minimum," he chuckled, "in the short time since I have joined your cause, I've watched as you turned a rag-tag group into an army with little more than your skill and earning of their loyalty. From what I've gathered, mostly at Master Tethras's discretion, you have been through much in your life. Though you think like a templar, you do not act like one. He told me you chose to leave the Order—that alone is impressive. Yet, you have made your share of mistakes in your time."

I looked out towards the frozen lake. "I have."

"So foolish, but not a fool," Solas repeated, "You know the mistakes you've made and you seek to correct them as best you can, no matter what others may think of you. I find that admirable, Commander."

I met the elf's gaze and gave him a curt nod. "Thank you."

He gave a slight bow. "I will see to your friend's staff. I believe our blacksmith should have everything he needs now to make a proper one for her. I just hope that we are able to craft one that works."

"Works?" I quirked a brow.

"Do you not know?" he asked, cocking his head, "Your friend has told me that when she has tried to use a staff in the past, it either hindered her or it would shatter as she attempted to channel her magic through it."

I thought for a moment. "I suppose I do remember that she rarely used one."

"As a former templar, could you think of any reason why that would occur?" he quirked his brow, "Outside of it being a staff not made for her?"

  "There were instances of mages that had magic too powerful or unpredictable to channel through a staff; or they lacked the focus to contain their magic within the tool. Perhaps those things occurred because we used commonplace staves and it was, in fact, not the mage's fault at all?" I wondered aloud.   "However, it did not happen often, so it was never looked into. The First Enchanter would simply commission new staves to be made. Once an apprentice became a mage, they were given a staff crafted for them and, generally, there was no issue."

"Do you believe it was her having too much power or a lack of focus?" Solas asked.

  "I would not say a lack of focus," I voiced, "She has never lacked focus, determination or resolve." My cheeks warmed at his answering smirk.   "Though her magic is different now, she was a prodigy by the standards of the Circle. Her magic was...powerful, to say the least. That's why her Harrowing had been so daunting. The Knight-Commander feared what would happen if she did not succeed."

"Such a profane practice," Solas scoffed, that accusatory glint returning to his gaze, "What could possibly have possessed a person to believe such a practice would end in little else, but misery and hatred?"

I shifted on my feet. "I do not disagree with you, but we had no other tool at our disposal."

"For what? Weeding out the weak from the strong? Ensuring that demons stalked the dreams of your charges?" his voice was growing angrier, despite his still calm demeanor.

  I met his eyes, clenching my jaw. "I left the Order. I will answer for the mistakes I made. I will do what I can to change things from within the Inquisition, but I will not be made to answer for the Order's mistakes as a whole." I placed my hands on the pommel of my sword to hide the tremor that was causing them to shake.   "You may be able to keep the demons at bay, but not every mage is as strong or skilled. Would you prefer they be left to become abominations? Killing anything in their path until a blade cuts them down? Like it or not, that blade is usually held by a templar as few others have the fortitude or training to end such threats."

  Solas hesitated a moment, his anger fading. "I apologize, Commander. You can understand my frustrations, can you not? But you are right, I can not ask you to answer for the deeds of the Order you left." His eyes swept over me.   "If you'll excuse me, Commander, but I am sure I've taken up enough of your time," Solas inclined his head, causing the green light of the Breach to reflect off his bald scalp.

"Thank you, Solas, for your...help." He chuckled again. "Also, you're welcome to call me, Cullen." He nodded and headed off towards the woods outside of Haven.

  I looked up to the sky. I could hardly believe I'd grown accustomed to living under such an ominous thing. It no longer groaned or crackled, but it was still a horrifying sight as it swirled above us. With it came an ever present prickle at the back of my neck. I could sense the barely healed tear of the Veil; sense the darkness pressing against it, begging to be released. Screams from Kinloch echoed in my mind and I shuddered.   The sooner Meira and Ellana returned, the sooner we could go to the mages and templars to close the thing properly. Maker, please. What would become of us once that was done? Hope flared in my chest as I thought of all the possibilities, but quickly died as that hunger, that thirst clamped down on my gut. So painfully, it took everything I had not to buckle where I stood, in full view of the practicing recruits.   My knees shook with the effort to stay upright, sweat beaded at my brow, the pain in my head feeling as if something were trying to claw its way out behind my eyes. I will endure. I will. I will! I took in several sharp breaths.    The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon, the dawn will come. For a moment, everything stilled as I recalled the old Chantry hymn. I remembered singing it as a boy after I'd been taken for training. The melody so like that of the lullaby Meira had hummed to me that night in the cabin. I will call you home, I will call you home. The dawn will come.    I took a deep breath through my nose and went through the verses of the old hymn again and again. It helped subdue the ache in my skull and refocused my attention just enough that I could straighten under the weight of my armor. I set my back to the Breach and looked towards the clear sky in the distance.    The dawn will come. It would come. She would come. I would endure everything withdrawal could throw at me, I would rise to every challenge that was to come, I would fight for that future I was beginning to feel on the tips of my fingers.   "Get your shield up, recruit!" I shouted at one of the sparring pairs. Maker, know my heart. 

[the-arcane-archivist]

The Chains They Placed

Part 1 of The Unbreaking Series Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II Relationship: Cullen Rutherford/Female Surana Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Dragon Age: Inquisition Ensemble, Lavellan Clan (Dragon Age), Non-Inquisitor MC, Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Female Surana (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Rylen (Dragon Age), Bethany Hawke, Minave (Dragon Age), Original Characters Additional Tags: Implied Sexual Content, Lyrium Withdrawal, Lyrium Addiction, Romance, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Canon-Typical Behavior, Sided with Mages & Templars, Dreamers (Dragon Age), Fade Spirits, The Fade (Dragon Age), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Fix-It of Sorts, Andrastians, Dalish Elven Culture & Customs (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford Has Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Cullen Rutherford has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Fluff, Slow Burn, Canon Compliant - Some Divergence, Attempting to Fix Cullen Rutherford’s Redemption Arc

Chapter 36: Sisters

Chapter 35 | Chapter 37 | AO3

MEIRA

  Ellana stayed late into the night as we spoke about the males. As she spoke about Solas, I couldn't help but smile as a sparkle came into her eyes. I had not seen that kind of joy in her since she'd woken up following the explosion. Our reconciliation had brought her happiness, peace and comfort, but her affection for Solas was a source of unexpected excitement for her. Even if she had to voice her frustrations with him as he seemed to judge the Dalish as foolish for trying to cling to a dying culture, but refused to voice his thoughts on how they could do better.   In her retelling of his exploits, I realized how he'd known about the potion he'd suggested I take and knew so much about dreamer mages: he, too, was a dreamer. He travelled the Fade, befriended spirits and peered at the history of the world through their eyes. It was fascinating to listen to, even secondhand. I was unsure if Ellana had put the pieces together, but I decided I would ask the male about it at the first opportunity. I hoped that I could discuss his thoughts on the Fade with him as it seemed he shared many of the same views as I did.

"When did you first realize you were attracted to Solas?" I asked her. "I mean physically? You told me what first drew you to him."

An impish grin flashed across her face. "That's easy," she chuckled, "I caught him doing his morning exercises while we were on the road. He was...hypnotizing to observe. He's lithe and tall for an elf male. Every movement was purposeful and graceful. The way he casts magic is just the same, even though he uses storm magic. Lightning—so unpredictable, yet he wields it with such control." She sat silent for a moment.   "He's paradoxical. Restrained, yet passionate; intellectual, yet humorous; conducts himself with such propriety and yet there's an...untamed quality to him. Add in his handsome features, stormy eyes, and smooth as silk voice...I couldn't help, but swoon."

I laughed at her self-deprecating smirk, "He is certainly mysterious."

"What made you attracted to Cullen?" she asked, curious, "What would be your favorite feature of his?"

I giggled like a girl and blushed. "We were allowed outside once a week for exercise and fresh air. Often, our outdoor time slots intersected with the templars' training schedules. They had to rotate and schedule training throughout the day to ensure there was a good balance of those patrolling and those training. The first time we happened to be out at the same time, was a month and a half or so after he'd arrived. We had yet to speak to one another, but I'd caught him looking at me a few times. He'd always blush when I caught him, the tips of his ears scarlet. I'd been sitting with Solana and Jowan, they were arguing about some magical theory while I read a book.”   "Cullen and a few of the other templars he was good friends with—Wilhelm, Beval, Farris and Annlise—were training. He was just...so full of life. He smiled easily, laughed in a way where you couldn't help but join and he was so warm with everyone. They teased and riled each other up as they trained together. Cullen and the boys ended up wrestling like a group of brothers. I could hear it all, but I was enjoying my book.   “Until, I happened to look up and saw him,” I blushed deeper, Ellana teasing me at it, “He was down to only his pants and boots as it was hot out that day for Ferelden and their training had been rigorous prior to them cooling down and goofing off. He had this huge grin on his face as Wilhelm and Beval tried to take him down. He was...very well built and their wrestling showed it off. Then his eyes caught mine and I...smiled like an imbecile. I couldn't help it, his smile was...infectious. Then it got impossibly bigger as his eyes stayed locked on mine. That is until Farris joined in and took out Cullen's legs. They all laughed heartily as Annlise sighed and rolled her eyes while muttering 'boys'."   "Solana nudged my shoulder and said, 'You better wipe that drool off your chin, Neria.' I blushed at her teasing. 'While I can't like him on principle because he's a templar, the Maker sure did favor him with beauty', she had sighed while she looked at him appreciatively. I denied it and said I'd been looking at something else to which she rolled her eyes. I returned to my book, but couldn't stop myself from sneaking a peek at Cullen every now and again. His smile turned smug and I knew he saw me looking at him. Eventually, I excused myself and hurried inside before I did something even more foolish. I haven't seen that carefree, boyish grin on him within the Inquisition...I hope, someday, he can find the boy he was again."

"He does seem far more serious and guarded now," Ellana nodded, "Yet, I will admit I can see some of the boy you paint in the man he is now."

"As can I," I smiled, sadly, "He's there...he's just buried underneath a lot of pain. Don't misunderstand me, though, I love the man he's become; I just pray that Andraste brings him happiness."

"When did you first know you loved Cullen?" Ellana asked. "I mean, when did you fall in love with him?"

"Solana will be mad she missed such conversation," I sighed with a smile, "I hope you get to know her and become a friend to her. We may argue because we don't agree on everything, but she is a fiercely loyal friend with a kind heart that is unrivaled."

"She does seem to care very much about you," Ellana murmured, her eyes growing sad, "As if she became what I should have been to you."

I took Ellana's hand and met her—our—jade eyes. "No one could ever replace you. No one ever did." She smiled sadly at that. I fought a smirk before saying, "Except maybe Cullen." She barked a laugh to which I smiled broadly.

"You're wicked, sister," Ellana groaned, "Now stop avoiding my question."

"I'm not avoiding it," I blushed, "I don't know if there was a single point where it happened, to be honest. I think everything just culminated over time and when he was gone...I realized the hole he left behind."

"I don't believe that," Ellana's eyes narrowed, "I don't doubt your feelings grew and shifted over time, but there had to be something or some moment that made you realize you wanted this man; that made him so valuable to you that you pursued him to Kirkwall."

  "You make me sound deviant. I'd wanted to follow him to Kirkwall to try and be a friend to him; to make him see that not all mages were like those who'd rebelled at Kinloch Hold." I took a moment to think and look back on our time in the tower.   “I suppose the first instance was when he’d helped me clean our refectory. It was the first time we really got to speak in-depth and it was during that conversation that he told me something no one—except other mages—ever had: that I was not a monster. That my magic was a gift from the Maker. That he worried I thought him a monster.” Ellana looked at me, eyebrows raised. “I suppose that’s what began it, but…” It came to me, the memory a little fuzzy, but I remembered.   “I remember,” I murmured, a warmth filling my chest, “I was…missing home. Missing you and Ma and Da. Missing what might have been. I’d snuck out of my room—we all knew of a path the templars didn’t seem to check or know about—the path led up to the observatory balcony. It’s where we studied the weather for practical magic application along with the constellations, planets and phases of the moons. It was also where we went to be alone or…secret affairs were carried out. That morning it had been empty though, I guess it was early enough most were asleep.   “I was leaning on the balcony rail that overlooked Lake Calenhad, my gaze towards home. I could almost imagine seeing it; imagine you looking towards me. I heard the scrape of metal on stone and nearly jumped out of my skin. I fell against the rail. It was Cullen, he’d been on patrol.”

“Neria?” he asked, his eyes wide in surprise as he found me.

I had one hand over my heart as it beat wildly in my chest, the other on the rail behind me to keep me steady. “Ser Cullen?”

“Wh-what are you doing up here?” he questioned, his eyes searching the rest of the balcony, “You-you should be in your room.”

“I-I,” I stammered, “I needed some air.” I straightened and curled an errant spiral over my ear.

His wariness faded and concern took its place. “There...there are tears on your cheeks.”

  I turned my back to him and quickly wiped the tears from my eyes. Solana’s voice ringing in my head: ‘Never let them see you cry - it gives them power’. Once my face was dry, I hugged my arms around myself.   “I’m fine. You can escort me back to my room, if you must.” Cullen was silent a moment and I looked at him over my shoulder.

“As long as I am here, I see no harm in letting you stay,” Cullen shrugged, “Unless you were thinking about jumping.” He wasn’t joking when he said the last line. It had been years since someone had taken that route to escape, but I had no doubt that all the templars would've known about the dark history.

“I can't say I haven’t thought about it before, if I’m going to be honest,” I admitted, my raw emotions loosening my tongue, “What would that accomplish, though? Besides pain for those I love?”

Cullen looked at me a moment. “Have you…actually considered jumping?”

I turned to face him, but kept my gaze averted. “I have,” I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself as that dark time resurfaced, “It was…some time ago, but I did think about it.”

“Are the lives of the mages here...that miserable? Is yours?” he asked. His tone was not angry or mocking, but genuinely concerned.

I met his eyes. “Do you truly wish to know?”

He made a few steps towards me. “I do,” his voice low.

“Why?”

"As I said before," he murmured, “I do not want you—want mages—to feel imprisoned or afraid. This is still new to me. My duties and the lives of mages. I want to know what can be done to make things better.”

  I huffed a breath, ignoring the fluttering in my chest at his nearness. His golden curls fluttered in the chilly wind blowing off the lake. The light from the torches made the gold in his eyes dance. His face was kind, his gaze gentle as he awaited my answer with genuine interest. Thoughts of him had been plaguing me since that night he’d helped me in the rectory. I could hardly focus on anything without thinking of his boyish smile or the warmth of his hand as I'd briefly held it that first time we'd talked in the library.   I found myself watching him more and more, catching his honey eyes gazing at me more often than not. He'd show up unexpectedly, ask how I was doing or offer assistance to me and I'd stammer like a fool while my heart jumped into my throat. He looked after all the mages, but he sought my company out in particular. We'd talk about all manner of things and the more I got to know him, the more I wanted to know. The more I longed for his companionship. But no matter how I felt, his attention troubled me—why would a templar so willingly involved himself in the lives of the mages?   “I do not understand you,” I voiced aloud.

His lips twitched. “Is that not the problem? Mages and templars not understanding each other? I may still be relatively new to this, but it’s not hard to see the tension between our factions.”

“No templar before has had an issue with it,” I murmured, “They happily keep their distance. They wouldn’t care one bit if I threw myself off the balcony. How are you different?”

“I want to protect people—all people,” he crossed his arms over his chest, “I’ve always wanted to be knight and though I am still learning, I do understand what that means. To protect means you should care about what you are protecting—in this case both the common folk and the mages within this tower. It is not very caring to be cold and ignore those in my charge. No one’s life should be so miserable they believe the only escape is death. If my duties as a templar are part of the reason why any of the mages here feel that way, I must see it changed.”

“You won’t let this go, will you?” I quirked a brow as I leaned against the balcony wall.

“No,” his voice as resolute as his stance.

“Let me explain it this way,” I began, “I was taken into the Circle as a child. I have not known anything or anywhere else outside of these stone walls and the outdoor space we’re allowed to use no more than once a week since. I cannot leave, I cannot go outside. I cannot know anything beyond this tower except what I can learn in books, see in the stars and view from this balcony. I do not get to decide what I wear, I do not get to decide what course my life will take beyond the select few choices I can make within these walls and I am forbidden from love, marriage or a family of my own.”

  I turned my back to him as tears burned in my eyes again. I had longed for—and envied—the freedoms Ellana would be experiencing. Free to live, free to love, free to be whom she wanted. Her life wouldn’t be without hardships, but at least she could choose her own path.   He came and stood next to me, hands clasped behind his back. We both stared out at the lake below, the shades of dawn beginning to be brushed across the sky. I could see him looking at me out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t press for me to speak furhter.   I sighed deeply, “I do love the Circle. Greagoir rescued me from harm. The Circle spared me from starvation, has given me an education and has brought me to faith in the Maker. I’ve made friends who have become my family. I am safe, so long as the templars stationed here do not use their power to abuse. The ones here currently are good men and women, but that has not always been the case. Those few templars I can talk to, I respect and even admire. I can make certain decisions for myself and could eventually create a life I enjoy, but I am still trapped here.”

“You are not trapped,” he murmured, “Mages are able to leave, but only senior mages and first enchanters. You’ve passed your Harrowing, you just need to be patient and work towards one of those titles. Since both Irving and Greagoir care for you, I do not see that being difficult for you to accomplish.”

“Why does it take a title to be able to leave?” I questioned.

“It shows you are trusted and can maintain control,” he voiced, “Why, however, you are not allowed to be outside more than once a week, I do not know. To prevent escape, I suppose.”

“The only escape is the lake,” I scoffed. “It takes at least a day’s swim from any direction to reach land. What mage would have the physical strength for that kind of feat?”

Cullen chuckled, “T he other templars have mentioned a mage who accomplished it. But what you say is true, you all are rather weak.”

I turned to him, a smirk pulling on my face, “And why do you think that is, Ser Templar?”

Cullen turned slightly pink. “I see your point,” a thought crossed his features, “Well, what do you say, Neria?”

A look of bewilderment colored my face. “What do I say to what?”

He stepped closer to me. He was in my space now, I could smell mint on his breath. “A bet—or deal, if you prefer. If you become First Enchanter, I will become Knight-Commander. Together, we’ll do all we can to make this tower an example for others to follow.” He removed his glove and held out his hand.

I eyed his hand with a brow raised. “Why me?”

A smirk pulled his full mouth. “Solana despises templars and Wynne is…as old as Irving. The rest are too political or set in their ways.”

My lips twitched. “Scraping the bottom of the barrel with me then, Ser Cullen?”

  He leaned forward a little and I had to lift my chin to meet his eyes, “Hardly.” His voice was so husky, my breath caught to which his smirk deepened.   He leaned back, “If I were to become Knight-Commander, you—you would be my choice for First Enchanter. You see what is wrong without wanting to throw out the whole system. You care deeply for all in the tower—mage and templar. Your devotion to the Maker rivals even us templars. You work hard, stay out of trouble, give kindness freely. You do not deny your hardships, but you do not wield them like a sword against us. In my mind, you are what every mage should be and I could think of no better example for other mages to follow.”

My face burned at his appraisal of me. “I-I am hardly worthy of such praise.”

“You are, Neria.” He smiled at me.

  I cleared my throat and leaned on the back on the rail of the balcony once more. Cullen began to say something else, but as he did, the stone of the balcony groaned and cracked. As it gave way, I went with the crumbling wall. The world froze and rushed simultaneously as I went into a backwards free fall.   It was abruptly cut short as I was wrenched forwards at the wrist. I slammed against something hard. I let out a gasp of pain as my chest bent. As I had stopped, I grabbed the falling debris with magic and it hurtled forward as I fell.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen’s panicked voice sounded as the stones fell around us, “Are you alright?”

  I blinked a few times and my eyes met his breastplate, my arm aching from where he’d grabbed me. His hand still held my wrist while his other plated arm was crushing me against him. I coughed and he loosened his grip, but didn't release me. He looked me over and gingerly lifted my arm. I winced.   “Are you injured?”

 I met his eyes, so full of concern and worry. Everything I’d been thinking and feeling about him came crashing together, his prior words cementing them into place. I didn’t care if we couldn’t truly be together. I would do whatever it took to be at his side as long as I could—even if all he could ever give me was friendship.   “Deal.”

He blinked, his face utterly confused. “What?”

“Well, I was trying to get out of making a deal with you,” I sighed, voice shaky, “But then you saved me, so now I suppose I owe you. It is a deal, Ser Cullen.”

It took a moment for his face to calm as his thoughts put my words together. His concern passed into an amused chuckle, “I knew you would reconsider.”

I laughed and then winced at my aching ribs. “Maybe not grab me quite so hard next time?”

“Are you planning on falling off another balcony soon?” he asked.

“Only if you’re around to catch me,” I grumbled.

  He barked a laugh before scooping me into his arms, “Always,” he whispered so softly, I doubted he wanted me to hear. He seemed to not realize that I could hear things humans could not. I hid my face behind my hair as I smiled, a blush creeping into my cheeks.   “And, Neria?”

“Hmm?” I hummed, not trusting myself to speak.

“Please, call me Cullen,” he said, softly.

I met his eyes then, “Thank you for saving me…Cullen.”

He went a little pink, but nodded. "I apologize if I injured you. Allow me to see you safely to the infirmary." I nodded and he carried me. Lowering me to a cot in the infirmary, he saw that I was being looked after before going to inform Greagoir of the crumbled balcony railing.

As I finished telling Ellana all of this, her lips pulled into a gentle smile. “What?” I asked.

“You truly do love him, don’t you?” she murmured.

I blushed. “I do.”

“I am sorry that your lives took the turns they did,” Ellana said with sincerity, “Neither of you deserved what came.”

I looked away. “Just pray that if now is the time, we make the most of it.”

“If it were me,” Ellana chuckled, “I’d marry the man at the first opportunity. Ten years is long enough of a wait and you've gone through more than enough together.”

  I laughed heartily. “Oh, Maker. I hardly know what to say to that...or what to think. Yes, we've known each other a long time and been through a lot, but as friends. Doesn't there need to be more time spent...romantically before we'd marry?” I snorted.   "I sound like a girl taken away with her fantasies. Besides, I am still a mage."

“You're no longer bound to the Circle or the Order, who's going to stop you? Ma and Da didn’t even wait a year,” Ellana offered, “They knew they were each other’s from the beginning.”

My smile faltered at the mention of them.  “What was…What was life like in the clan?” I asked, unsure if I wanted to know the answer.

  Ellana’s eyes met mine, guilt in their light as her smile fell. “My responsibilities as First did limit my options, but…I was far more free than you.” A sadness flickered over her face as she pulled off her glove and looked at the Mark.   “However, this…thing is changing that. I…I can’t run away—no matter how much I wanted to when I first woke up.”

I placed a hand on her arm. “Tell me.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I miss the wild. The trees, the grass, the sounds of the clan, the halla, the Keeper. I miss our hunters, the debates around the fire, our community. Children laughing. I woke up to find some magical enigma killing me. I was labeled a murderer, hated, doubted and distrusted. All the while dealing with the death of my friends, the question of the clan’s safety and the doubt I would live through this.”  She closed her eyes briefly.   “Then I closed the rifts and they began to...worship me as some messenger of their deity they worship. Whom I do not believe in. No one ever asked me what I thought about it or how I was feeling. I don't even remember what happened in that temple. I was never given a moment's peace; yet, I was more than willing to help as I knew all of Thedas was in danger." Ellana met my gaze.   "Then you…” she took my hands, “You were there. Branded, scarred…changed, yet still the same. I was so afraid, so grieved and so angry I lashed out at you because I felt you’d erased us—erased me—from your life. They told me you’d been using a different name and no one knew you’d been born Dalish. I…I thought you were ashamed of me. I lashed out and you lashed back.” Her gaze lowered as shame colored her features.   “Could I blame you? Why wouldn’t you hate me after…after what we did to you?”

We were silent for a moment. I wrapped her in my arms. “I never hated you, da’len. I resented you, even envied you, but I never hated you.”

She hugged me. “Sometimes…sometimes I think Solas is right about the Dalish. Perhaps that’s why I get so upset, because deep down, I know he’s right.”

“I will not lie to you,” I began, “there is much I think they need to change, but I understand what they're trying to do.”

She was quiet for a time, but stayed in my arms. I felt her pull away as she spoke. “I should let you sleep. You’ve got to be exhausted.”

“I am,” I chuckled, “We can speak more tomorrow.”

She stood and walked to the door. A hand on the knob, she turned back. The white-blonde wig spilling around her face like spun moonlight, the jade of her eyes shining in the torches, her face solemn. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I murmured.

[the-arcane-archivist]

Knight-Captain Rylen

[the-arcane-archivist]

The Chains They Placed

Part 1 of The Unbreaking Series Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II Relationship: Cullen Rutherford/Female Surana Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Dragon Age: Inquisition Ensemble, Lavellan Clan (Dragon Age), Non-Inquisitor MC, Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Female Surana (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Rylen (Dragon Age), Bethany Hawke, Minave (Dragon Age), Original Characters Additional Tags: Implied Sexual Content, Lyrium Withdrawal, Lyrium Addiction, Romance, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Canon-Typical Behavior, Sided with Mages & Templars, Dreamers (Dragon Age), Fade Spirits, The Fade (Dragon Age), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Fix-It of Sorts, Andrastians, Dalish Elven Culture & Customs (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford Has Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Cullen Rutherford has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Fluff, Slow Burn, Canon Compliant - Some Divergence, Attempting to Fix Cullen Rutherford’s Redemption Arc

Chapter 35: A Late Night

Chapter 34 | Chapter 36 | AO3

MEIRA

  I made my way through the belly of the ship to my quarters. Torches lit the way, boards creaked at my steps and as the ship groaned against the water. The off-duty sailors slept in hammocks while those on duty tended to the needs of the vessel. Cleaning, sorting goods, checking manifests among other things.   Those awake whom I passed would tip their hats and offer a "my lady" or "Herald". I would dip my chin in return. I gave a sigh of relief as I leaned against my door as I closed it behind me. My eyes were shut and I stood there for a moment. 

"Long day?" Solana's gentle voice questioned.

  My eyes flew open and I saw her sitting on my bed. She looked beautiful with her blonde hair falling in a long braid over one shoulder, her pearly skin shining in the torchlight, darkening the spattering of freckles across her nose. Her dark brows were knitted in concern as her rosy lips were pursed.   "Solana? What are you doing up?"

"We haven't really spoken and its been eating me up inside," she murmured, "I snuck in here as I figured you shouldn't be seen talking to me too much as the Herald—since you shouldn't know me."

  "That is probably true," I whispered in return as I made my way over to her. I sat on the bed and released a sigh as I ran my hands over my face.   "I am exhausted and the real difficulties haven't even begun."

Solana threw her arms around me. "Tell me everything that's happened," she pleaded, keeping her voice low, "I saw the scars, the brand...Leliana said you read the book, too."

I placed a gentle hand on one of her arms and leaned into her hug. "Solana," I bit back a sob, "There is so much and I am so tired."

Her arms stiffened around me and she began to pull away. "Of course...I should've waited."

"That's not what I mean," I met her coffee eyes, "I'm just feeling overwhelmed. I'm tired in the sense of wanting to talk about it."

  There was a soft knock on the door. "It's Talitha, Herald. I need to speak with you." I stood and went to open the door. Ellana met my eyes, concern flickering in her own, before her gaze found Solana.   "I can speak with you later, if you wish?"

"Come in, please," Solana beckoned.

I stepped aside so Ellana could enter the room, closing the door behind her and setting the lock. She hesitated, looking unsure of what to do. I took her hand and brought her over to sit with us. "I know you met, but this is Solana. She was with me in the tower and was my best friend there."

"It's nice to meet you," Ellana murmured.

"And you." Solana smiled before giving me a hard look. "That's hardly true," Solana scoffed, "Cullen was your best friend. I got your leftovers."

"I did not give you leftovers, Solana, and you know it,” I retorted, “You were my friend first. And then Jowan."

"Well, we all knew who you really wanted to be with when you were with us," Solana stuck her tongue out.

"That isn't true either," I rolled my eyes, "I knew you long before Cullen."

"Didn't seem to matter to you," Solana huffed, "One look into his puppy eyes and you were smitten; the rest of us forgotten in the wake of his 'honey stare' as you so often liked to tell us."

I blushed a little. "Well, his eyes do look like honey."

"Or gold, or molten or gold-flecked," Solana listed off with a annoyed look on her face.

"What made you fall for him?" Ellana questioned after a chuckle, her jade eyes curious. "I mean initially."

"Yes, please do enlighten us," Solana interjected, "I still cannot figure it out."

  I blushed deeper, remembering. "It was when he first came to the tower. Greagoir—that was our Knight-Commander—was leading the new templars through the library up to their quarters. Cullen stopped in the middle of the library and looked at me. His eyes were wide as a goofy grin formed on his face and when I smiled at him he turned scarlet," I chuckled.   "It made me curious about him as I'd never seen a templar be so...normal. So, I observed him when I could. During his initial days, before he and his fellow recruits became full-fledged templars, he was kind. If a mage dropped their books around him, he'd help them pick them up. He'd offer a smile and a laugh. He'd help the little ones if they fell or got upset. He'd settle disputes by talking, instead of force. And he was amicable towards us, happy to talk if we wanted.   “I just felt he filled the tower with warmth. His presence was one I couldn't ignore—even when I tried. I was drawn to him. Then when he kept finding ways to talk to me or be around me—not that it’s hard when you live in a small tower all crammed together—I didn't want to fight what I was feeling any more...so, I didn't. Neither of us would cross a line as we valued our faith and propriety too much, but we didn't believe being friends was wrong."

"I couldn't ignore his presence either," Solana groaned, quietly, "But only because I found him so annoying."

"Why?" Ellana questioned.

"Solana hates templars in general," I chuckled, softly, "Cullen was no exception."

  Solana rolled her eyes. "You make me sound so prejudice. I don't hate templars just because they're templars. I despise the Order and have several issues with the Chantry. I hate what the Order and the Chantry turns those men and women into—not the people themselves.   “Most come out with a superiority complex - believing they're the Maker's own soldiers to 'keep the mages in check' by 'any means necessary'. They're warped into believing that we somehow rebelled against the Maker by having magic. As if a gift I was born with was something I chose so I could shake my fist at the Maker." Solana rolled her eyes.

"But why did you dislike Cullen so much?" Ellana quirked a dark brow, "From what she's told us, it doesn't sound like he believed those things."

"He didn't believe them," I offered, "His beliefs aligned more with mine and Solana's—at least, until Uldred."

"I found him annoying at first simply because of his interest in you," Solana met my eyes, "I worried for you. Templars had been known before to use their positions to abuse us...in every way possible. I feared he was trying a different tactic from force to lure you into his bed."

"He would never," I assured.

  "I came to realize that," Solana admitted, "The problem was that even if he did believe differently, he still followed the rules like a well-trained dog. Sure, he may have broken some with you; but when push came to shove, he still would've cut you down if Greagoir ordered him.   “He may not have enjoyed killing mages, but he still did it. You and I both know there are other ways to save mages from possession beside a sword, yet the templars always chose blood over magic. Your Cullen was no different."

"Do the templars know about the other means?" Ellana asked.

  "Surely, they must," Solana flicked her braid over her shoulder, "Mages are the ones who discovered it and then wrote a whole dissertation on the process. The Hero of Ferelden came to the tower in search of the means to perform the ritual to save Arl Eamon's son, Connor. He'd been possessed by a desire demon as a child, causing the siege of the undead against Redcliffe.   “Warden Evelyn sought to free him without killing the boy. After she had saved the tower, Irving selected a group of us to help her. Wynne entered the Fade and saved him."

"Solana, you know that possession has to have not taken hold completely for that ritual to work," I reminded her, "It wouldn't work on someone who has fully given into their possession. I forgot you were part of that group, I'm assuming that's when you escaped?"

"I know, but perhaps that stage comes with every possession?" Solana questioned, "If templars were trained to study the stages of possession and seek to save us before it was too late instead of cutting us down...it's just a thought. And yes, that is when I escaped. On our way there, I pleaded my case to Evelyn and Leliana. I helped Evelyn and in the middle of the night she and Leliana helped me escape."

"Why would the Hero help you escape?" Ellana wondered aloud, "From what I’ve read and heard, she sounds like someone who would be against something like that."

  "Evelyn was far more liberal than the tales have painted her," Solana replied, "That's not to say she's not a woman of supreme merit, she is; she just understands that the world is not black and white. Every situation and person deserves an open mind. I told her why I wanted to escape and what I hoped to do with my freedom; she deemed me worthy of help because I wished to help unfortunate mages who had not chosen their fates.   “Apostates who simply wished to live, not blood mages and those who'd chosen evil. Whereas with Jowan, she judged him worthy of a second chance within the walls of the Circle. There is a reason she was allowed to become queen and while currently her husband may be failing, I have no doubt she will swoop in and clean up the mess."

"I hope I get to meet her," Ellana murmured, a tinge of awe in her voice, "I've heard so much about her that makes her sound almost otherworldly."

"I can attest that while the legends about her have grown preposterous, she is a woman who could do the things people claim," Solana smiled. Solana met my eyes, "But, back to your lover—"

"He is not my lover," I growled, “We are friends—no more, no less."

   "Keep telling yourself that," Solana rolled her eyes, "I disliked him for his hypocrisy—which you seemed blind to while we were at the tower because he'd turned your head with his attentions. Then my beliefs about him were proven right when he raised his sword to you during Uldred's revolt. It took next to nothing for him to lose his trust in you, despite all his feelings and supposed beliefs. It disgusted me. I didn't want to be proven right, but I was.   “Then I was in Kirkwall. My time was brief, but I got a taste of your beloved templar's zealous reign. He wiped out the Mage Underground in Kirkwall. I stayed hidden, by the Maker's grace, but I saw the fire of hatred in his eyes as he razed our refuge to the ground and placed my friends in chains.   “I escaped to Val Royeaux and over the years, as others fled Kirkwall, I got bits of news about what was happening under his watch. I don't care wether he committed the atrocities directly or not, they happened while he was second-in-command. Once again, he could've done something and chose not to because he was faithful to his leash holder. All because a few mages killed his friends and he suffered abuse—which we faced every day in the Circle—he determined we all were what the Chantry told him we were: monsters."

"It sounds like you did exactly what he did," Ellana observed, her eyes narrowing on Solan, "You had preconceived notions about him and when they were proven right in your eyes, you latched onto them with a zeal to justify your hatred of him."

  Solana looked livid for a moment, giving Ellana a withering glare. I couldn't help but agree with what Ellana said, but I waited for Solana to reply. She took her time and when she spoke she did so slowly.   "I never lied to myself about my beliefs. It was the lie he told himself that disgusted me; it was that lie being pulled into the open that corrupted him and the follow through of his supposed 'newfound truth' that made me hate him."

  "I understand what you are saying, Solana, I do," I began. "However, I think you never allowed yourself to truly see him. You saw the armor and a belief that didn't fit inside of it. You couldn't reconcile the two, so therefore, you rejected the idea that he could truly believe what he claimed. When he turned on me, I saw his fear while you saw the lie.   “What happened to him in that tower...changed him. Not because what he claimed he believed was really a lie, but because what he wanted to believe—what he did believe—was so tainted by the deeds of Uldred and his acolytes that he was torn apart. He eventually convinced himself that it was his opposing beliefs and questioning of the Order that had led to all that happened.   “He vowed he would never again question his duty and set aside his previous beliefs and humanity. That was the zeal you saw in Kirkwall; but all the while those beliefs were there whispering to him. The events in Kirkwall made him walk away from the Order. He is no longer a templar."

  She gave me the same withering glare for a moment before she scoffed, "We'll see. You can say what you like, my friend, but until I see him for myself, I will hold fast to my opinion of him. Your love for him blinded you to his faults. His love for you blinded him to the real beliefs he held about mages. I saw the truth.   “He was a templar, you were a mage. It spelled disaster from the beginning. I fear that it is happening again as I look at your face when you talk about him."

Anger flickered in my chest. "Solana, I don't know how to get you to understand."

"You won't," she shrugged, "You were branded, put through the Rite. Your body is riddled with scars. That had to happen in the Circle—at the hands of a templar. How can you turn around and love one who fulfilled his duty like a zealot? It's insane!"

  That anger burned hotter in my chest. "You think him a zealot?" I stood and angrily stripped down to my bindings and smalls, nearly all of my scars bare before them.   "These scars were received by a zealot who used a demon to experiment on me in order to figure out the best way to 'rescue me from my sin'." I pointed to an ugly gash that curved underneath my left breast from my rib to my navel.   "Alrik sliced this one into me as he whispered sweetly that if I just gave into the Rite, I'd save my soul from the Void." I followed the raised line of one that stretched from my right shoulder to where my heart pounded in my chest. "He carved this one as he moaned to let him 'rescue me' as he ra-," tears burned hot in my eyes and I ground my teeth together. I pointed to the first scar he gave me.   "He gave me this one as he told me of his 'Tranquil Solution' before I tried to defend myself; when I did, he cut me and forced his mouth on mine." My breathing had become ragged as I spoke, fighting the writhing in my gut, that darkness I'd felt in the templar camp flickering in me.   “Let me out.”   I shoved the voice away. Solana's eyes were wide, her face pale as I saw her putting the pieces together.   "Every single cut that marks my skin was inflicted as it was whispered to me again and again the sin my magic was, the sin my love for Cullen was, and how the only route to my salvation was the Rite. That is a zealot." I glared at Solana.   "I am not excusing Cullen's behavior, but at least when he fulfilled his duty, he did his best to treat mages fairly. It may not have been the way you or I would have wanted, but he kept Meredith from killing them, spared them from the Rite when he didn't have to, listened to Hawke and others over his own distrust. He wasn't and isn't perfect, but don't label him a zealot. It is undeserved, Solana." My gaze softened as my anger cooled.   "Forgive me." I pulled my shirt back on.   "Confront him if you must, Solana, I will not stop you, but please bear in mind that there are worse things a templar can do than putting mages in chains and keeping them in the walls of a Circle." I closed my eyes and pinched my nose.   "What I suffered does not outweigh the suffering of others, I just—" I looked them both in the eyes, “—I love Cullen...with everything that is left of me. I can't explain it, as there are not words enough. I can't tell you all of the reasons why, as his story is not mine to share. I ask that you know that I am not blind to who he was or is, nor to what he has done. I...I—" Solana and Ellana flung their arms around me. I wrapped my arms around them in return.

"I cannot promise that I won't confront him nor can I promise that I won't be angry if I do. That anger is compounded by the fact that I now feel he's just as much to blame for what happened to you as Alrik—" Solana murmured.

"—He's not Solana—" I argued, but she cut me off.

"—Wether or not that is the case is a matter for debate, but know that I do not dismiss your feelings for him. I care for you, but I cannot simply set aside what he's done and allowed."

  "I will do what I can to understand him, my sister," Ellana whispered, "I am here for you." She grabbed my face.   "Let me carry some of your burden. You've carried it alone for too long." She stared into my eyes, her own shimmering with tears, until I nodded. "Just tell me one more thing."

"What do you wish to know?" I asked as they released me.

"How did you survive down there after Alrik died?" Ellana questioned, gently, "You didn't say when we discussed it before and I've never known a creature to survive three years without food or water. And why did you never try to escape or use your magic?"

  "I don't fully understand how I survived myself," I admitted as I tried to keep myself steady, "I did have a water source as the stones were always wet. I used a tattered blanket to absorb the moisture and I would...suck it out. It was never enough, but it kept me from dying of dehydration. As for food," I let out a shaky breath.   "There was a plethora of vermin to choose from." I tried to smirk, but failed.   "Mice, rats, cockroaches, centipedes, spiders...after vomiting the first few times, I was eventually able to hold them down. Roasted vermin tastes good when you're starving to death. Once, that source stopped coming, my body ate itself. Once that resource was used up, I think I consumed my mana. Over time I grew unable to use my magic, it was shortly after that happened that Cullen found me."

"Cullen found you?" Solana questioned. 

I met her eyes and smiled sadly. "The look on his face told me all I needed to know of the state I was in."

"What did he do?" she asked before his eyes turned steely, "Did he turn you Tranquil to keep you quiet?"

  I looked at her in horror. "What? No!" I vehemently whispered, "He-he tried to help me. He and Marian Hawke, along with Marian's sister, Bethany. They enlisted the help of a dreamer mage to try and reshape my memories so I could cope. I...resisted. A demon came to claim me and to spare me from possession, he turned me Tranquil.   “I forgot what happened to me while I was Tranquil and when the Rite was broken I was able to remember knowing I had survived. It is because of the Rite that I was able to cope with what I went through. It was broken when the Breach exploded into existence."

"But how?" Solana implored, her eyes begging.

"I'm not entirely sure, Solana," I admitted, "A spirit approached me in the Fade and did...something." I knew she wasn't satisfied, but she nodded her head.

  "As for why I didn't try to escape or use my magic," I met their stares. This truth I did not want to share, but I knew it would help me if I did. "I did try to use magic. Whenever I did...he'd...he'd take me into another cell and make me watch as he...tortured the others he held down there. He'd smite me and chain me to the wall. He'd beat them, break them, violate them all the while chanting how it was my fault—that they had to pay for what I'd done.   “Eventually, I lost the will to use my magic in my defense. He'd allow me to heal myself and the others, but only just enough to keep us from dying. If I tried to remove scars or heal us completely...he'd-he'd," I took another shaky breath as the memories returned.   "He was a monster. As for escape…the one and only time I tried and escaped." Words failed me for a moment and tears welled in my eyes.   "I saw Cullen." 

"What?" they gasped in unison.

  "He didn't see me," I muttered, "He was...praying. There was blood on his face, streaks of tears cutting through the smears. He was weeping as he spoke the Chant." Seeing him in the candlelight, looking so utterly broken and defeated had made me forget what I was running from just long enough.   "Before I could call out to him, a templar that was part of Alrik's circle stepped out of the shadows as another pressed a blade to my throat. Alrik strode up next to me and whispered, 'One word, one scream, one single syllable and I will kill him. I will bring him down below, make him watch as I take you before I gut him like a pig in front of your eyes. As he bleeds out, I will carve you open. I'll drag both your carcasses before Meredith and tell her you were an abomination. We'd come too late to save the boy from you'." Tears fell from my eyes as I recounted his malice and the absolute terror that had paralyzed me at his words. He would do exactly what he promised.   "He went on to say if I ever tried to escape again he would fulfill his promise to me. I never tried again, not even when he hadn't come to my cell after a time. I didn't know how long it had been between his death and Cullen finding me until I read Tale of the Champion." Their eyes were full of horror as words failed them. I encircled my arm around my sister and Solana before I pulled them close.    "Enough about this," I said thickly, "I did not mean to place that burden on you. Neither of you needed to know those details." I released them.   "Cullen is never to know about what I just told you, do you understand? Never."

They both nodded their heads. Ellana softly touched my shoulder. "Let's stop dwelling on the past."

"Yes, please," Solana breathed.

"Will you tell us about your conversation with Vivienne?" Ellana asked, though her voice was hesitant as if she shouldn't have spoken.

  I took a deep breath to steady myself, before pulling the rest of my clothes back on. Ellana explained that she'd seen me enter Vivienne's room before I recounted what we discussed. The distraction served its purpose in easing my frayed nerves.   "I hope what I said aligns with your thoughts," I glanced at Ellana. She seemed to be mulling things over.

  "For the most part," Ellana gave a slight nod. "I'll try not to be offended by your comments on the Dalish, however," a smirk flickered on her face.   "I will admit that I do not wholly disagree with you on anything you said."

"I'll even admit that your ideas sound agreeable to me," Solana agreed, "Maybe changing a few details, but a Circle that I can leave as I please—that doesn't sound so bad. What did Vivienne say?"

"I don't think she was very happy, but she didn't give a solid refusal or dismissal," I explained, "As I said to her, the future of the Circles and the Order can't be decided by one person alone."

"Indeed," Solana nodded.

As conversation lulled, I glanced at Ellana who looked troubled. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

She glanced up at me, her eyes widening slightly as her cheeks flushed. "Nothing, it's not important." Her eyes flicked to Solana.

That made me curious. "It's not nothing."

"I-I," she kept glancing at Solana.

  Eventually, Solana took the hint and with a sigh hauled herself off the bed. "I should get some sleep," she sighed, "Though I hate missing out on interesting conversation.”   She turned to me and hugged me before saying, "We all need to talk again, but about happier times. Your sister needs to hear about the girl who grew up in the tower." She smiled gently and I returned it with a smile of my own.

  "I would like that," Ellana admitted. Solana smiled wider before dismissing herself. Ellana waited until Solana had left the room before turning to me.   "I think I'm attracted to Solas, but more than attracted to him. Like you said—drawn to him. How do I know? How are we going to handle romantic relationships in our roles?"

"I kind of guessed as much," I chuckled, "What is it about him that draws you to him?"

  A small smile formed on her lips as a blush crept into her cheeks. "He's mysterious, intelligent and even though he opposes the Dalish, I find our conversations and arguments about elves riveting. There's a passion in him that I can sense beneath his cool demeanor. I find him...fascinating." A smirk flickered as she spoke the last word.   "I enjoy his company."

"Sounds like you're on the right track to me," I smiled, "Have you...not been in a relationship before?"

She blushed deeper. "No," she squeaked before her features were colored bashful, "Is it that obvious?"

"A little," I admitted, "But we do share the same face...and the same tells. And it’s not like I can claim I have been in a relationship."

She chuckled before looking at me seriously, "I’ve missed you."

"And I you," I murmured, "As for how we're going to handle relationships," I paused before smiling mischievously, "Perhaps we should let the males figure it out."

Ellana looked shocked before laughing. "Oh, you're terrible. What will your dear Cullen think?"

I smiled wider. "He'll live...after he dies of embarrassment."

[the-arcane-archivist]

The Chains They Placed

Part 1 of The Unbreaking Series Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II Relationship: Cullen Rutherford/Female Surana Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Dragon Age: Inquisition Ensemble, Lavellan Clan (Dragon Age), Non-Inquisitor MC, Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Female Surana (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Rylen (Dragon Age), Bethany Hawke, Minave (Dragon Age), Original Characters Additional Tags: Implied Sexual Content, Lyrium Withdrawal, Lyrium Addiction, Romance, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Canon-Typical Behavior, Sided with Mages & Templars, Dreamers (Dragon Age), Fade Spirits, The Fade (Dragon Age), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Fix-It of Sorts, Andrastians, Dalish Elven Culture & Customs (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford Has Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Cullen Rutherford has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Fluff, Slow Burn, Canon Compliant - Some Divergence, Attempting to Fix Cullen Rutherford’s Redemption Arc

Chapter 34: Upon the Waking Sea

Chapter 33 | Chapter 35 | AO3

MEIRA

We spent the next few days in much the same manner: visiting the market, chatting, enjoying the fine Orlesian food. Yet, soon enough the morning came for departure, established when Vivienne had sent word that she had concluded her business. I was startled awake on the morning in question by the squawking of a large bird in the window.

“Hush,” Leliana spoke sweetly, petting bird before removing a letter from its leg. She unrolled the parchment, glanced at the front and handed it to me. “For you,” she murmured. 

It was from Cullen:

Talitha,

I am pleased to hear your task went well. I have no doubt you will find your stride and do so quickly. 

Our Marcher friends are in good health, helped even more so by intense celebrations following our defeat of the bandit threat. Dennet and his wife were kind enough to put together a feast in our honor, which included a plethora of ale and dancing. I have never seen such merrymaking and I will admit it was a happy sight. We had a few injured, but no casualties, for which I thank the Maker. The people were in need of such a diversion after these past months of hardship. Even if such activities are far outside my area of expertise. Seeker Pentaghast and I took patrol in order for the others to join in the revelry.

The villa has been a Maker-sent blessing. We have a proper place to house our soldiers and rations now, instead of placing them under the roofs of the people or in tents. Vale and his men have moved there, though there is still a post outside The Crossroads. It is out of the way, but we remain close to continue aiding in repairs and construction. There are new homes being established within the village while old ones are being rebuilt on the King's Road. Life is returning to the area; it is slow, but steady. I got to see it first hand as I passed through on our return journey—which we are in the middle of as I write this letter.

Our Marcher friends are returning with me to Haven where I will assign them duties befitting them. Dennet is with us as well; he brings his mounts and promises to reprise his role as a horsemaster for the Inquisition. Captain Rylen informed me that construction is well under way and things should be ready for the horses upon our arrival. As I'm sure you've guessed, our progress is slow with so large a company; but it is to ensure the horses' safety. I fear even with the added barns, we will still not have enough room for the animals, but I hope Dennet can make due.

I am familiar with Magpie. I hope that our personal history can be set aside for the sake of the Inquisition, but Magpie's talent and the potential relief for Healer Bethany outweigh any tension it may bring. 

l will arrange for us to be able to discuss your ideas unhindered; it is important that we are in agreement about everything in this matter. I look forward to our conversation and hope this letter reaches you before your departure—even if the blighted bird tried to murder me when I tied the letter to its leg.

Travel safely,

Commander Rutherford

P.S. I attached a copy of Researcher Minaeve’s notes so you could read over them on your way back. She included notes on the dragon as well, as you suspected she would.

I laughed at the bit about the bird and ran a finger over his name. I missed him and determined I would make more of an effort to be in his company in Haven when appropriate; not that I’d have much choice as we would truly be working together from now on. I folded the letter and notes and stowed them in the breast pocket of my vest. Leliana's eyes had been on me while I read the letter, her observation continuing as I put it away.

“What does our dear Commander say?” Leliana asked, mischievously.

I blushed at her tone. “He was informing me of the situation with the bandits and mounts. He-he also attached Minaeve’s latest research notes.”

“Riveting,” she murmured, huskily.

I blushed deeper and she smirked. Ignoring the blush in my cheeks, I wrote Cullen back.

Commander Rutherford,

I am sorry to have missed out on such a celebration, but I thank the Maker that our friends have a reason to celebrate and are well. For your sake, I am glad Seeker Pentaghast was there to spare you from the merrymaking. Perhaps I can offer you a lesson in the art of it upon my return? Maybe if you occasionally spent an evening in the tavern instead of your tent, you could at least learn the basics?

Praise be to Our Lady that such progress is being made. Maker knows the folk of The Crossroads need such improvements. I hope Vale and his men find their new post amenable.

I am very pleased to hear that Dennet will be with us. I look forward to seeing the man again and observing how he cares for our mounts. I have no doubt Captain Rylen is doing his utmost to have Haven prepared and I will be excited to see the changes upon our return.

I, too, look forward to our conversation . Thank you for sending Researcher Minaeve's notes, I will enjoy reading over them.

Maker watch your steps on your journey back,

Talitha

  I hoped he wouldn't take too much offense to my teasing about his lack of socialization, but the man rarely came to the tavern; even less so as Haven was exploding with activity and people. It was only if he was in need of food and couldn't flag down a runner to bring a tray to his tent. I understood it was his diligence to his work, but people needed to see their commander taking a rest every now and again.   I chuckled at the thought of him brooding in the shadows as the townsfolk danced, drank, ate and laughed. I could even imagine Elizabeth trying to coax him away from patrol to dance and he refusing to hide his utter terror at the idea. Then I thought about he and Elizabeth traveling back to Haven together and worry flickered in my heart. I set it aside, quickly, as dwelling on it would only bring trouble. I had to trust the Maker and Cullen; as Bethany had said, it would happen as the Maker intended.   I folded the parchment, sealed it and handed it to Leliana. With little fuss, she tied the letter pouch to the bird's leg and sent it off. We ate breakfast and prepared to leave. Vivienne had arrived in her coach shortly after we'd finished breakfast, offering us a ride to the docks. We accepted, riding in relative silence after introductions were made, though it felt as if everyone was silently studying each other.   Solana was already aboard the boat when we arrived and Leliana had said that the elf, Sera, was already on her way to Haven. As I stared up at the large vessel, I mentally prepared for a week trapped on it upon the sea, pretending to be my sister. With a deep sigh, I walked up the ramp.

…

  We passed the first day in polite conversation and the occasional chess game. I spent as much time as I could on the deck of the ship as I had on the way to Val Royeaux, the belly bringing back thoughts of that dank cell that had claimed too much of me. It was only Ellana and Solana's presences that enabled me to stay below when necessary.   I enjoyed the brininess of the sea air, the sounds of the ship cresting the waves and the gulls calls as they flew with our sails. The sun was relentless, however, on the open ocean and I found the dark waters both drawing and haunting. The sea felt alive. I longed to draw the scene before me, but Ellana and I had concluded that both my sketchbook and the dagger Cullen had given me needed to be with whomever was Talitha, as it would be a give away if I had them as Ellana. Dispirited at the thought, I took a deep breath in of the fresh air as the sun began to dip below the horizon of the water.

"My lady," a gruff voice spoke behind me. 

I turned and found one of the crew members with his hat in his hand. He had a look of admiration on his face as he bowed. "Yes?" I asked.

"They say you're the Herald?" he questioned hesitantly.

"That's what some call me, yes," I nodded.

"I-I wanted to thank you for all you've done. I have family in the Hinterlands and they sent word of your deeds there," he shyly offered as he bowed his head again. "My faith was shaky at best, but knowing Our Lady sent you and how you saved my loved ones from the rogue mages and templars...I've more a mind to say the Chant. I wanted to say that while I had the chance, my lady Herald."

I inclined my head. "I'm glad I could help, though I can hardly take all the credit. The Inquisition's people are responsible. However, I am thankful that our deeds were able to save your family."

"Ma'am," the sailor smiled, his tanned skin crinkling in its wake. He placed his hat upon his head and returned to his work. 

With that single interaction, I knew Leliana's plan had succeeded. It hurt, I wouldn't lie to myself, to have my deeds assigned to Ellana, but I knew in my heart it had been me; I knew that this was better for the Inquisition, for Ellana's safety. I gave myself comfort by remembering all that had happened in the Hinterlands—most of my comfort coming from that little cabin shared with Cullen. I watched the sun melt into the ocean's cerulean waters before I returned to the belly of the ship.

"Herald," Vivienne's rich voice called from her cabin as she stood in the doorway. She'd removed her mask and horned headpiece to reveal a beautiful face beneath. Her dark hair was shaved close to her scalp, a groomed brow was quirked as her near black eyes studied me. Her saturnine face seemed to be carved from stone as she allowed no emotions to show. High cheekbones, an elegant nose and glossed, full lips finished out her features. I understood why she'd come to be called the Lady of Iron—her very essence oozed an iron will.

"Lady Vivienne," I greeted.

"Join me, will you?" she gestured towards a small table set with dinner inside her cabin as she stepped back to open her door wider.

"I will, thank you," I inclined my head and took a seat at her table. The food was inferior to what we'd become accustomed to in Val Royeaux, but it was still well prepared. A pan fried fish, roasted root vegetables and fresh bread.

  "These humble sailors still know how to make a decent fare, though, I had to ask for a dinner prepared as the captain's would be served," Vivienne explained as she took her seat across from me.   "I do hope you enjoyed the food my coin provided during your stay in Val Royeaux."

"It was excellent, as was our room. I wish to extend my utmost thanks to you, Lady Vivienne."

"Think nothing of it, my dear," she waved a manicured hand, "I want only the best for my friends. So, tell me, what am I to expect at Haven? My connections have provided me an overview of the people working for the Inquisition, but I'd like your perspective." As she finished her question, she began to eat her food with the height of manners.

  "You obviously know about our Ambassador, Josephine Montilyet—from what I understand, she studied in Val Royeaux, is trained as a bard and is quite accomplished in the art of the Grand Game," I began, "I find her a soothing presence in our more heated discussions and she always manages to unearth a diplomatic way of handling any situation and to the gain of both parties.” I took a bit of my own food before continuing.   “You've recently met our Spymaster, Sister Leliana, Left Hand of the Divine, companion of the Hero of Ferelden during the Fifth Blight. She also was trained as a bard and is adept at the Game. Leliana's network is so vast and secretive, we are kept abreast of things sometimes before they even occur.   “Our military advisor and commander of our forces is Commander Cullen Rutherford—formerly a templar, his highest ranking being acting Knight-Commander in Kirkwall following the removal and subsequent death of Knight-Commander Meredith. I understand that he almost single-handedly pulled Kirkwall back together after the explosion of the Chantry and he has proven himself adept at commanding our forces following the explosion of the Conclave; practical and occasionally difficult, but he has the loyalty of our troops. Those three are our foundation, without them, the Inquisition would not exist."

"You give yourself too little credit, my dear," Vivienne shook her head, "Without them, the Inquisition would not function. Without you the Inquisition would not exist. You are the one who has pulled the organization together and who the people have begun to put their faith in. Tell me, as a Dalish elf, what is your opinion of the Circles? Of the Order?"

  I took a moment to collect my thoughts. I had to think how Ellana would answer this question, not me. However, she and I would need to come to some kind of compromise or plan as to how we would address those situations. I decided to keep my answers true, but vague.   "Since you asked, I am going to speak plainly. As a Dalish elf, I have seen the dangers of magic unchecked, but have also known the freedom of not having an armored shadow. I have had both good and bad experiences with templars; those who wished to protect, and those who used their positions and power to abuse.   “I believe templars could be and are a force for good, but they need to return to their true purpose. They have become too bound to the Chantry and it to them; not that they shouldn't be connected, but the templars should not be treated as leashed dogs to do the Chantry's dirty work.   “The Circles, unfortunately, have been twisted into something I do not believe they should have ever become. While some are more lenient and lend themselves to be places of education as you describe, others are no more than prisons riddled with corruption, abuse and oppression." Vivienne's eyes turned cold, but she remained silent as I continued to speak.   "However, the people of Thedas will not tolerate the dissolution of either entity, no matter the circumstances or the validity of their needing to be eliminated. I think change can be achieved—and should be—for both entities; more freedoms for both the mages and the Order. They should not be forced to be bound to each other, but poisoned into mortal enemies."

"Then what would you have them be?"

  "I would have the Circles be places of education where mages do go to learn how to control their gifts, study, and work their way towards an intended career path. They should be able to visit family or have family visit whenever they wish or be given designated times where they can do so. Once their education is finished, mages should be able to leave the Circle if they wish; to become healers, join the military, join the Wardens, run shops or to simply live.   “Perhaps they have a templar assigned to them upon entry into the Circle and the two are viewed as 'partners' for lack of a better term. They are each other's charges. The templar protects and observes the mage; the mage teaches the templar how to defend themselves against magic. Fraternization is not forbidden, but encouraged. Perhaps not romantic relationships while within the Circle, but I do not believe that should be forbidden either.   “It is the lack of understanding between them that has led mages and templars to where they are now. It's no different than my people and the rest of Thedas. We are feared because we are not understood—and that is as much our fault as the rest; probably more so ours, if I were to be honest. So much violence would be avoided if people would simply take the time to talk and understand one another—you still may not like each other or agree on anything, but at least you can understand you both have value." I blinked and realized how winded I was from speaking.   "Forgive me, I am rambling."

"Not at all, Herald," Vivienne spoke, "Please, continue. I asked for your opinion, so give it."

  "Very well," I nodded my thanks, "As for the templars, they should have the ability to do more than just 'guard mages' or 'hunt apostates'. If our commander and the templars who followed him are any indication, they are excellent soldiers. They should be able to choose more career paths than just being stuck in a tower or at a Chantry.   “Our commander has suggested the creation of a mage battalion within the Inquisition's forces. Mages being trained to fight and perhaps eventually it will be mages and templars truly working together; at least, that is my hope. Templars should be able to focus on protecting the common folk from dark magics and those who seek to do harm. They should be able to have families and leave to visit as well.   “While I know Andrastian faith is integral to what the Order is, there should be no bind to the Chantry; both so the Chantry cannot wield them and so the templars cannot wield the Chantry. 'Magic exists to serve man' does not, in my mind, mean that templars have a 'divine right' over mages. Magic serving man to me should mean that magic serves. Healing, enchantment, education, military—that is serving, not a life spent locked behind a door. Templars are called to serve. They are soldiers, they stand against dark magic and maleficars, why can’t mages do the same? Why can’t mages be trained to defend the common folk as well?”

"For not believing in the Maker or the Chantry nor ever having been in a Circle, you seem to have given a lot of thought to all in your idealization of the future," Vivienne quirked a brow.

"I do not have to believe in either to respect and be educated in their workings,” I rebutted, “As for the Circle, it is not hard to imagine how I would feel about never having known family, the wild or freedom."

"Touché," Vivienne smirked, "I will admit it is simply a surprise to me that you are so well educated."

"I will try not to take offense to that, Lady Vivienne," I chuckled.

  "Do try, my dear," a flicker of a smile on her lips formed before Vivienne hesitated as if digesting everything I had said.   "You spoke of poor experiences with templars, but what of mages? To wish such freedoms for those born with magic, I want to be assured that you understand the dangers."

  "Of course. Our clan suffered due to the hubris of prior clan members; they sought knowledge with an insatiable greed and it nearly cost the clan its life at the hands of vengeful templars." Shock flitted on her face for a second before she regained her composure.   "And I have been faced with temptation a time or two myself."

"And yet you still desire freedom for mages?" she questioned.

  "As I said, not absolute freedom." I took a sip from my glass.   "Even the Dalish have their regulations on magic. My clan, for instance, allows no more than two mages within its members. The Keeper and the First—the Keeper is our leader, so to speak, and the First is their apprentice who will take over leadership upon the passing of the Keeper. Any clan member born with magic once the Keeper and First are chosen are exiled."

"How cruel," Vivienne grimaced.

  "I will not disagree with you," I frowned, "This decision was made after the prior mages nearly led to our eradication. It is because of this that I am not inclined to eliminate the Circles entirely, nor the templars. The templars put an end to our clansmen who became abominations when no one else could have.   “In theory, the Circles could provide a safe place for those Dalish elves that are banished from their clans. Yet, I do not believe that because mages might pose a threat that they should have only the choices of imprisonment, Tranquility or death. As with everything, there will be those who choose evil and those who choose good. If mages are looked at as cursed and the only solution is to lock them up, are they not being setup to fail? If templars are trained to think mages will inevitably fall prey to demons, are they not being setup to view us as nothing more than threats?"

"I understand what you are saying," Vivienne murmured, "I do not know yet if I agree with you, however, my dear."

  "There is no need for you to," I smiled in assurance, "These are my opinions and ideas. This situation is not one that can be fixed by one person alone, nor should it be. I am a Dalish elf—a mage born free—I have not been in your place or the place of so many other mages. I am not a templar either. I am voicing what I think could be done from the perspective of one who was on the outside and who has listened to the frustrations of others.   “I will welcome the advice, ideas and opinions of those who have lived those experiences in order to, hopefully, achieve a compromise that suits those who will actually be affected by the decision—if the Inquisition is called upon to make it and if I am even in the negotiations. This is, of course, all hypothetical discussion. A new Divine may be chosen any day, the Inquisition defeated or any number of things."

  Vivienne said nothing, but her dark eyes studied me. She was weighing me in her mind and if I was reading her correctly, she was finding the Herald more complex than she had anticipated. Good, perhaps she will not be so eager to try and manipulate things to her advantage. After swallowing a bite of food, she spoke again.   "You mentioned that your commander has requested a mage battalion. What does he anticipate that looking like?"

"The details have yet to be worked out, but he did agree that a mage needs to lead the battalion, but still operate within the army as a whole," I voiced, "I know this much: it is a chance to show Thedas that mages—and their magic—can serve just as well as the templars; and going a step further, if we are able, that it can be done side by side the templars."

"It is an intriguing idea to be sure," Vivienne offered, "I will be curious to see how the idea comes to fruition."

"As will I."

  We passed the rest of the meal in lighter conversation as Vivienne shared a bit about her life and her time in the Circle. She shared her opinions on the Circle and the Order. Her opinions on templars aligned more with Cullen than even my own did, but I found her approval of them refreshing. I discerned that she was very difficult to read and abrasive, yet her opinions and advice were sound—even if they were arrogant.   I concluded she would be a woman I could respect and seek advice from, but wether she could or would form a true friendship with anyone would remain to be seen. We would not always agree either. Her personal interests would always come first, even if she did seek the interests of the Inquisition. 

"Herald, would you be so kind as to allow me to teach you a few things while we're stuck on this vessel?" Vivienne asked as we concluded our meal, "Of magic, I mean."

"I would greatly welcome it," I nodded, "I noticed you have an affinity for ice?"

"Indeed," a slight smirk appeared on her full lips, "To me, it is the most versatile of the schools—besides healing."

"I agree."

"Meet me on the upper deck an hour after sunrise then, my dear,” she instructed.

"Thank you, Lady Vivienne," I inclined my head as I stood, "And thank you for the meal and your company."

"And you, Herald."

[animezinglife]

Lord Seeker Lucius's design:

Generic Jaundice Templar:

Ser Barris, for some reason:

[the-arcane-archivist]

The Chains They Placed

Part 1 of The Unbreaking Series Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II Relationship: Cullen Rutherford/Female Surana Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Dragon Age: Inquisition Ensemble, Lavellan Clan (Dragon Age), Non-Inquisitor MC, Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Female Surana (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Rylen (Dragon Age), Bethany Hawke, Minave (Dragon Age), Original Characters Additional Tags: Implied Sexual Content, Lyrium Withdrawal, Lyrium Addiction, Romance, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Canon-Typical Behavior, Sided with Mages & Templars, Dreamers (Dragon Age), Fade Spirits, The Fade (Dragon Age), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Fix-It of Sorts, Andrastians, Dalish Elven Culture & Customs (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford Has Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Cullen Rutherford has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Fluff, Slow Burn, Canon Compliant - Some Divergence, Attempting to Fix Cullen Rutherford’s Redemption Arc

Chapter 33: Madame De Fer

Chapter 32 | Chapter 34 | AO3

MEIRA

  The Ghislain estate was a beautiful property. There were a few attendees milling about in the courtyard as I walked towards the mansion. Leliana had instructed that a couple of her agents attend with me for protection, but wait outside to avoid offending Lady Vivienne.   I felt many eyes turn to me as I approached the open doors to the estate’s foyer. I couldn’t see their faces as it was an Orlesian custom to wear masks. Leliana had fitted a delicate, gold mask designed to look like wings over my eyes before I left the inn. An agent went in to pass on the invitation before exiting. The agents saluted and stood outside the doors as I walked inside.

Quiet chatter echoed about the grand room as I heard myself, or rather Ellana, announced: “Lady Lavellan on behalf of the Inquisition.”

  I couldn’t help but admire the ostentatiousness of the estate. Giant statues, marble everywhere, a fountain large enough to swim in all within the foyer. I scanned the room, seeing if I could spot the Lady Vivienne. Leliana had given me a dossier on the First Enchanter with a description and relevant information to give me an idea of what I was walking into.   Vivienne sounded like a force to be reckoned with as she had taken charge of her own life despite being a mage. She had improved her life within the constraints of the Circle in ways I’d never considered possible. I had to admit I was somewhat eager to observe the Lady. Yet, it seemed only her guests were here and she had not yet graced them with her presence. A couple of the attendees approached me as I waited.

  “What a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” the man dipped his chin, “Seeing the same faces at every event can become so tiresome.” I inclined my head in return.   “So, you must be a guest of Madame de Fer? Or are you here for Duke Bastien?”

“Are you here on business?” the woman eagerly interjected, “I have heard the most curious tales of you! I cannot imagine half of them are true.”

“I was invited here by First Enchanter Vivienne,” I offered.

“Madame de Fer is a...fond nickname the court has given to Lady Vivienne,” he said with a chuckle, before adding in a whisper, “It means Lady of Iron.”

“I’ve heard she finds it amusing,” the woman added.

“Who is Duke Bastien? I have heard very little of him,” I asked.

“He hasn’t been seen much at court lately,” the woman said.

“His business with the Council of Heralds often takes him away from home for long periods. It can’t be good for a man of his age,” the man gossiped.

“And of course there’s the Civil War,” the woman added as if civil wars were a daily occurrence, “Bastien probably wishes to distance himself from the actions of his one-time son-in-law.”

“Tearing up the Dales in a foolish bid for power? It will end in disgrace for Gaspard,” the man sneered, “Everyone knows it.”

“And what have you heard about me?” I asked, genuinely curious and wanting to steer the conversation to a place where I understood what they were talking about. Leliana had given me a short explanation of what was happening in Orlais, but it had been hard to follow.

“Some say when the Veil opened, Andraste herself delivered you from the Fade!” the woman exclaimed. “Then you faced down the remaining clerics in Val Royeuax, singlehandedly brought balance to the peasant settlements near Redcliffe while sealing rifts opened all across the map of Thedas.”

“Some of those story tellers may have gotten carried away,” I conceded.

“But only for the best effect,” she chuckled, “The Inquisition is a ripe subject for wild tales!”

  “The Inquisition?” a sneering voice snorted, “What a load of pig crap!” I turned to find a man descending the steps, a sword strapped to his belt.   “Washed up sisters and crazed seekers,” he raised his voice, vying for the attention of all in attendance, “No one can take them seriously.” He approached me and when I didn’t back down, he walked past me.   “Everyone knows it’s just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power."

“The Inquisition is working to restore peace and order to Thedas,” I stated calmly as I stared into the man’s eyes.

 “Here comes the outsider!” he laughed without humor, “Restoring peace with an army.” He stalked closer to me.   “We know what your ‘Inquisition’ truly is,” he sneered. I could smell stale wine on his breath.   “If you were a woman of honor, you’d step outside and answer the charges.”

I had to keep myself from laughing. This man was asking me to step outside for a duel to defend my honor? He was the one hurling insults while I had claimed nothing. I stayed silent, only staring him down. He went for his sword, but was frozen—literally—before he could draw it.

  “My dear Marquis,” a refined voice called from the top of the other set of stairs, “how unkind of you to use such language in my house to my guests.”   I followed the voice to find a tall dusky woman descending the stairs. She was elegantly dressed in the finest materials coin could buy, her face partially covered in an elegant silver mask topped with horns. She swayed her hips as she descended the stairs, causing the material of her robes to reflect the light of the room as her full lips twisted in a smile that had no warmth. Every eye turned to her as her heels clicked on the marble floor. This had to be the Lady in question.   “You know such rudeness is..intolerable,” she scolded sweetly as she approached the Marquis.

“Madame Vivienne,” he sputtered out, “I humbly beg your pardon!”

  “You should,” she smiled wider, “Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?” The Marquis said nothing, fear dripping off him in waves. Vivienne turned to face me, a frown pulling on her glossed lips.   “My lady, you’re the wounded party in this unfortunate affair,” she shook her head, her dark eyes boring into my own, “What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?”

  I could tell this was a test, though she would carry out whatever I desired. She wanted to know what I was made of and wanted others to see if I was to be feared or respected. I decided to lay the choice at her feet.   “The Marquis does not interest me,” I replied nonchalantly, “Do whatever you like with him.”

  She smirked and turned back to the man. Grabbing his face as if in pity, “Poor Marquis,” she pouted, “issuing challenges and hurling insults like some Fereldan dog lord.” She snapped her fingers and he unfroze. He coughed and shook with cold as Vivienne continued to tear him to pieces with her words.   “And all dressed up in your Aunt Solange’s doublet,” she clicked her tongue. “Didn’t she give you that to wear to the Grand Tourney?” He said nothing, which made her sink her claws in even more.   “To think,” she said with mock surprise, “all the brave chevaliers who will be competing left for Markham this morning...and you’re still here.” The Marquis lowered his head.   Vivienne looked down at him, her hands on her hips, “Were you hoping to sate your damaged pride by defeating the Herald of Andraste in a public duel? Or did you think her sword would end the shame of your failure?” The Marquis opened and closed his mouth, lowering his head again when he said nothing.   “Run along, my dear,” Vivienne dismissed, “Do give my regards to your aunt.”   The Marquis tucked tail and walked out the door as Vivienne turned back to me, “I’m delighted you could attend this little gathering, I’ve so wanted to meet you.” She gestured me to follow her as she ascended the steps to a deserted hallway.   “Allow me to introduce myself,” she began, “I am Vivienne. First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court.”

“Is that Marquis going to pose a problem?” I asked.

“His aunt is the vicomtesse of Mont-de-Glacé,” she explained, her eyes assessing me behind her mask, “Not a powerful family, but well-respected...and very devout. Alphonse will be disowned for this. It’s not the first time he’s brought his aunt disgrace, but I’m sure it’ll be the last. And after such a public humiliation, I expect he’ll run off to the Dales to join the empress’s war effort. Either to make a good end or to win back a modicum of self-respect.”

“Your salon has certainly exceeded my expectations so far,” I commented.

She smirked, “I’m glad to keep you entertained, my dear. I wanted to meet face to face. It’s important to consider one’s connections carefully. With Divine Justinia dead, the Chantry is in shambles. Only the Inquisition might restore sanity and order to our frightened people. As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause.”

“Loyal to whom?” I asked.

“To the people of Thedas, of course,” she said as if it were obvious. “We have not forgotten the commandment, as some have, that magic exists to serve man. I support any effort to restore such order.”

“What exactly can you do for the Inquisition?”

“I am well versed in the politics of the Orlesian Empire,” she offered, “I know every member of the Imperial Court personally. I have all the resources remaining to the Circle at my disposal and I am a mage of no small talent. Will that do?”

“Does that mean you’ll be aiding the Inquisition from the Imperial Palace?”

“Ordinarily, I would be happy to serve as liaison to the court, but these are not ordinary times,” she stated, “The Veil has been ripped apart and there is a hole in the sky. It is now the duty of every mage to work toward sealing the Breach, and so I would join the Inquisition on the field of battle.”

“While I appreciate your desire to serve on the battlefield, perhaps you could still be a liaison from a distance?” I questioned. Having someone with an ear to the ground within the court would be invaluable.

”Perhaps,” Vivienne conceded, “I understand your Ambassador Montilyet is quite versed in the Grand Game and the workings of the court. Upon my joining of the Inquisition, I would be happy to offer her further assistance if she so desires.”

“Since you title yourselves ‘loyalists’, are you in favor of restoring mages to the Circle then?” I questioned.

“Where else can mages safely learn to master their talents?” she challenged, “We need an institution to protect and nurture magic. Maker knows, magic will find neither on its own.”

“Are you devout? What’s your opinion of the Chantry?” Being loyal to the Circle led me to believe she must be at least of the mind to work within the boundaries set by the Chantry, but wether she was truly Andrastian or not was harder to discern. 

“I was a great admirer of the late Divine Justinia the Fifth. The Chantry, at its best, unites the disparate cultures of Thedas and looks after the most vulnerable. Had she lived, Justinia could have accomplished so much.” Her words echoed my thoughts to a degree, but she placed too much value and responsibility on the Divine. The Chantry as a whole should reflect the best of its figurehead.

  All she had said thus far rang true to me as I felt much the same as she did. Her answers also aligned with what Leliana hoped she would say and thus I felt she would be welcomed by the Inquisition. I asked the most vital question last.   “What’s in this for you?”

“The same thing anyone gets by fighting this chaos: the chance to meet my enemy, to decide my fate. I won’t wait quietly for destruction.” A fire burned in her eyes that she had kept hidden until that answer, but I felt there was more to it than just taking her fate into her own hands. 

“The Inquisition will be happy to have you, Lady Vivienne,” I dipped my chin.

“Great things are beginning, my dear, I can promise you that,” she smiled.

…

  We returned to the salon after we discussed travel plans. Vivienne said she had a few things to tie up at home before she could depart, but if we were willing to wait a few days, she would happily sail back to Ferelden with us. She encouraged me to stay the evening, to which I obliged and she introduced me to all of her guests. I could hardly remember any of their names as all their faces were covered. I just thanked the Maker no one asked me to dance.    My bare feet were aching and blistered by the time I returned to the inn. Vivienne had been kind enough to offer her coach to take me back which I eagerly accepted. Leliana was gone, but Ellana was asleep in her bed, Tale of the Champion lying on her chest. I laughed to myself to see her reading that, but hoped it meant she was willing to give Cullen the benefit of the doubt. It looked odd to see her with the white-blonde wig and absent of her vallaslin. I made a mental note to ask if she was truly okay with them being covered. I stripped down to my pants and undershirt before climbing into bed.

…

I awoke in the morning to the smell of breakfast. Leliana was pouring a dark liquid that wasn't tea into delicate cups for each of us and Ellana was already seated at the table. I stretched before sitting down across from her.

“How did the salon go?” Leliana asked as she spread butter across a flaky roll.

“Aside from a Marquis wishing to duel me, it was rather uneventful,” I smirked before sipping at my cup. It was fantastic. Rich, smooth and bold versus tea's delicate, subtle flavors. "What is this?" I asked.

"Antivan coffee," Leliana replied, as she met my gaze, “What did Vivienne think of the Marquis?”

“She would have killed him if I asked I think, but she did with her words anyway. We best tread carefully with her, we don’t want to make an enemy of her.”

“I’d heard as much," Leliana nodded her head. "Did you find her agreeable to joining?”

“Very much so,” I nodded, “I would be cautious, however, as I feel she has ulterior motives. She does truly want to help—not only to restore order, but to have mages viewed in a good light.”

Leliana dipped her chin. “I will have my agents keep an eye on her and her communications. She will be a valuable asset, but could just as easily be a debilitating enemy.”

“She didn’t suspect anything?” Ellana asked before taking a bite out of her bread slathered with dark jam and honey.

“No, but why would she? She’s never met you.”

“I know," she sighed, "I can’t help but feel that people will just know.”

“I understand, but we are twins after all, Ellana,” I assured.

She gave me a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. I looked at her with concern, but she looked away from me. A soft knock sounded at the door and Leliana stood to open the door. It was Solana. “Good morning, ladies,” she beamed.

“Good morning,” we greeted.

“Our trip has been delayed a few days,” Leliana informed her, “You’re welcome to wait with us or sail on ahead.”

“I’ll wait, I need to see to a few clients and finish transferring everything to the woman taking over the shop.” Solana sat in the remaining chair, Leliana offered her a cup of coffee which she greedily drank.

“I will miss this food on Vivienne’s dime,” I sighed.

  “I received a letter from her this morning,” Leliana began, “I didn’t want to mention it until I had gotten your opinion on her. With her joining the Inquisition, she is bringing not only her own financial support, but the support of a number of wealthy nobles." She gave me a look saying this was what we needed to secure our plans for addressing the templars, I gave her a slight nod.   "Do you think we are okay to accept the money or will she use it against us to assert dominance?”

“She may later on, but for now I see no harm in it," I shrugged, "If she wants to be a part of the Inquisition and see it flourish, surely she understands coin will have to be involved? As for her wielding it against us, gaining her trust would possibly ease that likelihood as well as ensuring Josephine makes other, more substantial connections if possible.”

Leliana nodded, “Right on point, my lady.” I was taken aback by her addressing me that way, causing her to smirk. “You need to get used to it. After all, when you are the Herald, you will hear many titles.” I said nothing, staring into my coffee.

“Vivienne is a harpy,” Solana grimaced, “and she knows it. I’ll do my best to avoid her to keep any...unpleasantries from occurring.”

I laughed. “That would be appreciated my friend.”

  We spent the morning chatting, until Solana left. Then Leliana led us out to the streets to visit the market stalls. A few of the stall keepers offered aide to the Inquisition either in discounted prices or the steady supply of goods. They had heard about the Hinterlands and found the cause hitting close to home. Leliana then led us to the various boutiques tucked within the city walls. Clothing, shoes, furniture pieces, food, wine; almost any good that could be thought of was sold in Val Royeaux.   We entered a shop that sold paints, brushes, canvases and other various goods for artists. Ellana purchased a set of paints, a slight blush on her cheeks. It didn't take much guess work to discern who they were for, even if she did say they were for her. I bought some more charcoal for drawing.   At another shop, Leliana perused the shoe selection. She wanted to try on everything they had and when I realized it was going to take quite some time for her goal to be accomplished, I headed out to the main street. I found a bench by a tinkling fountain and drew Val Royeaux. The bustling people, the fountains and shops, the city guards, small gardens and the afternoon light.   I drew the Gishlain estate from memory as well, wanting to show Minaeve, Bethany and Cullen. When I'd finished both, Leliana and Ellana were both still in the boutique. Ellana seemed to share in Leliana's delight over the shoes, picking some out for the Spymaster to try on. I told them I was going to continue on. Leliana assured there were eyes on me that would keep me safe.   I worked my way to a small courtyard with benches tucked into arched alcoves. There were a few boutiques tucked into a far wall. I ducked into one to find books, globes, maps, rolled parchment and chess sets. The shop owner greeted me in Orlesian to which I apologized, stating that I did not speak it. He waved a hand in dismissal and switched to Common before he listed off his wears and then let me browse. I walked over to his shelves of books and looked over the titles. Mostly Orlesian historical texts, but a few Fereldan as well. 

"I have maps of Orlais and Ferelden as well," the shop owner offered, "Recent maps and older. Are you a collector?"

"I am not, but...a friend of mine may be interested. What would you recommend?" I asked, "They would appreciate historical texts as well as a chess set."

"Do you have a budget, my lady?"

  I uttered my price. The owner nodded and began flitting about his shop, bringing various items back to his table. He unrolled maps, stacked a few texts and brought over a single chess set.   "Unfortunately, my lady, this is the only chess set I have within your budget. It is still made of the finest quality, but the other sets I have are...finer." His posture said he was uneasy and desired not to offend, which I appreciated given the fact that I was an elf. I had expected more prejudicial treatment.

  "I understand," I smiled, trying to assure the man he had not offended me, "My friend prefers utility to finery anyway so it will suit them."   He seemed relieved by my words. I looked over the chess set and found my statement to be correct. It was handsome, yet simple; made of dark woods, marble and smooth metals. The pieces were housed in a wooden box that served as the base for the board which folded. I thought he would appreciate its ability to be compact and easily moved.   "I will take it." He gave a slight bow and began to package the set. I looked over the texts and maps, requesting a recent map of Ferelden and a text on Fereldan history. I purchased a copy of Genitivi's In Pursuit of Knowledge as I had not read it since the early days in the Circle. The owner packaged everything neatly, thanked me profusely as he revealed his shop was rarely visited.   "That's a shame. I will have to return when I can then." At that, I left.

  I found Leliana and Ellana, both with shoeboxes in their hands. They asked about my purchases, causing me to blush profusely. Ellana rolled her eyes, but seemed to be fighting a smile at the look on my face. Leliana was quiet, but her eyes shone with mischief which caused me to worry for Cullen and I.   "It's repayment for my armor and sketchbook, that's all!"

"You've already admitted that you love him," Leliana quirked a brow, "Why shy away from the truth now?"

"I-I'm not," I stammered, "I did want to say thank you for his gifts and this seemed the perfect way."

"A kiss would be better," Ellana mumbled.

"Ellana!" I gasped. She shrugged, but chuckled. "That—that would be—I couldn't."

"You could, but I won't tease you any more about it," Ellana smiled.

My face felt as if it were scarlet as we worked our way back to the inn. We passed the evening in conversation as Leliana helped me break in Cullen's chess set. I had wanted to save it for him, but she offered to teach me how to play properly. She was patient and instructive, her moves often subtle and devious. Ellana thumbed through Genitivi's work until she fell asleep. Leliana and I retired soon after, though I had a hard time falling asleep as I imagined giving Cullen his gift.

[the-arcane-archivist]

The Chains They Placed

Part 1 of The Unbreaking Series Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II Relationship: Cullen Rutherford/Female Surana Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Dragon Age: Inquisition Ensemble, Lavellan Clan (Dragon Age), Non-Inquisitor MC, Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Female Surana (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Rylen (Dragon Age), Bethany Hawke, Minave (Dragon Age), Original Characters Additional Tags: Implied Sexual Content, Lyrium Withdrawal, Lyrium Addiction, Romance, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Canon-Typical Behavior, Sided with Mages & Templars, Dreamers (Dragon Age), Fade Spirits, The Fade (Dragon Age), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Fix-It of Sorts, Andrastians, Dalish Elven Culture & Customs (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford Has Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Cullen Rutherford has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Fluff, Slow Burn, Canon Compliant - Some Divergence, Attempting to Fix Cullen Rutherford’s Redemption Arc

Chapter 32: Red Jenny

Chapter 31 | Chapter 33 | AO3

MEIRA

  Eventually the time came where Cullen took Bethany to the Gallows. Hawke was enraged as her father had been an apostate—and Bethany had been as well—without any issues. Hawke’s mother was devastated as another of her children was taken from her.   A few years passed, and it seemed camaraderie between Cullen and Hawke returned and grew. Hawke would often come to him for updates and just to talk about things going on in Kirkwall. Cullen always seemed cordial with her, which compared to everyone else was practically him seeing her as a close friend.   The qunari that had come to reside in part of the city became a concern among the people of Kirkwall, which in turn became a concern for Hawke and the templars. They discussed this soon after Hawke had restored her mother's family name: Amell. I would have to ask Solana if there was any relation. I read over the conversation that followed.

  "Hawke!" Ser Cullen greeted warmly as he raised a hand. There was an actual hint of a smile on the Knight-Captain's face as Hawke approached him.   "The new scion of the Amell family—congratulations,” the young templar's usually sullen face softened, "Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"Is there anything I can help the templars with?" Hawke offered, her tone flirtatious, but the templar seemed oblivious.

  "Oh, you're kind to offer, but after what happened with Tahrone three years ago, the Knight-Commander has closed ranks," Ser Cullen replied.   His face turned worrisome, "Our own men undergo weekly questioning and she's eliminated all work with outsiders. It's hard to keep recruitment up to maintain our numbers."

"I keep hearing about the Knight-Commander. When do I get to meet her?" Hawke probed, her voice impatient. 

  "I'm afraid she's become more reclusive since you came to Kirkwall, Hawke," Ser Cullen's brow knitted in concern.   "These last three years, especially, she's been very suspicious of outside influences. I almost wonder if something happened..." he voiced aloud.

"Everyone seems concerned about the qunari," Hawke stated, "What's the templar stance?"

  "They are heathens," Ser Cullen hissed, "They will stop at nothing less than the eradication of the Chantry. But we can't know the immediate goals of the qunari in Kirkwall. Should it come to open conflict, we are the largest army in the city. We will be the ones to lead its defense."

  Time moved forward a little more as Hawke seemed to find herself in the middle of every issue within Kirkwall. Anders came to Hawke in need of help. He wanted to break into the Gallows to find evidence against...Alrik. Anders knew about Alrik's proposed 'Tranquil Solution': a plan to turn all mages Tranquil. Anders wanted the evidence to take to Grand Cleric Elthina so that maybe she could do something about Alrik to put a stop to his use of the Rite. There was no indication that Anders knew the depths of Alrik's depravity.   They broke into the Gallows and found Alrik confronting a mage named Ella. Anders became enraged and let Justice take over before he slaughtered all the templars and nearly killed Ella. So that's what happened—he left me to go after Ella, but faced Justice; both literally and figuratively. How close had they been to me?    The evidence of Alrik's plan to turn all mages Tranquil was found and Hawke went to Cullen to confront him about it. Then I had to stop and reread a passage a few times to make sure I was reading it correctly, my stomach threatening to fall to the floor.

“Your Ser Alrik was working on a plan to turn all mages Tranquil,” Hawke quirked a manicured brow at the Knight-Captain, her tone accusatory. Ser Cullen's smallest of smiles he reserved for Hawke faltered at her words, his jaw clenching.

  “I will not ask how you came by the personal affects of a man recently murdered within our own walls," he sighed in that weary way of his as he crossed his arms over his breastplate.   "It’s true there has been some discussion of the idea, but as you can see, it’s gone no further than that. The Harrowing has served us well enough for centuries. It will be up to mages themselves whether they push us to more stringent methods.” He said the last phrase with a hint of a threat in his voice.

“It sounds like you support this,” Hawke pushed, her tone light, but words firm.

  “The tranquil ritual was created as a mercy so mages need not be killed out of hand for a threat they might pose," Ser Cullen explained.   "There is an argument to be made for applying it more widely, but many mages have made it clear that the ritual is no better than death. They want no controls on them at all.” The Knight-Captain's mouth hardened in irritation.

  As time went on, Hawke killed the Arishok—the qunari leader—after he’d murdered the Viscount and was named the Champion of Kirkwall for her efforts. The qunari threat was ended, but Kirkwall kept building in pressure as Meredith pushed the templars to put a tighter hold on the mages. This caused word to begin spreading that Meredith was unfit for the role of Knight-Commander.   As Kirkwall descended further and further into darkness, Hawke and Cullen spoke whenever he'd be in The Gallow's courtyard and she had business there—now able to approach Meredith directly if needed. The two were friendly, despite being at odds about their views on mages.   Accusations were being hurled at the Guard-Captain Aveline, one of Hawke's dearest friends. Cullen brought attention to the matter by sending Hawke a letter. Marian and Aveline made their way to the Gallows to discuss the situation with him. Cullen believed in Aveline's innocence, but warned that the goal was to eliminate Aveline's position.   Someone was after limiting the roles of authority within Kirkwall by any means necessary. Cullen did not agree, but understood that if Aveline continued to have such accusations thrown at her, the simplest fix would be to eliminate her role. The situation was taken care of by Hawke and her companions, thwarting the scheme.   Things eventually came to a head in regards to Meredith's unfitness for Knight-Commander. A letter was sent to Hawke requesting aid. Hawke pursued the issue, having to fight her way through mages and templars to get to the truth of the matter. Keran, the boy she'd saved earlier, warned that someone close to her had been taken. He directed her to the Wounded Coast.   Upon arrival at the place Keran mentioned, a man named Raleigh Samson confronted Hawke about sticking her nose in all of Kirkwall's business. A former templar discharged by Meredith for passing notes between a mage and his sweetheart, he'd turned to begging in the streets and helping to smuggle mages out of Kirkwall for coin. Samson made it clear he wanted to be reinstated as a templar, despite his desire to depose Meredith from her position; though he admitted that she may have been right about mages before abandoning the apostates he'd been assisting because they'd turned to blood magic.   Hawke came upon the scene, finding Bethany unconscious in the middle of a ring of mages and templars. Ser Thrask, a kind templar she'd assisted years before was the head of the rebellious templars. A mage named Grace—who'd been the companion of a blood mage some time before—led the apostates.   Thrask was willing to be reasonable, to work with Hawke, but the mage Grace became unhinged, shouting for blood. Grace slaughtered Thrask at his protests and turned on Hawke. She and her companions ended the apostate threat, sparing the life of a mage who had defied the maleficar. The boy, Alain, released Bethany from her spell in time for Samson to bring Cullen to the scene.   Cullen questioned Hawke's involvement, the boy mage vouching for her actions. Cullen was cold to Alain, ordering him to go before Meredith for questioning. Hawke intervened and convinced Cullen to vouch for the mage to be treated gently for what he had done. Cullen agreed that despite the mages' actions, some might still be saved.   Hawke went to check on the situation a little while later. Cullen assured her that Meredith had gone easy on the mages and templars that had worked with Thrask. Her leniency being confinement and sedation for the mages and no pay for the templars. This prompted Hawke to question Cullen about the spreading rumors concerning Meredith.

"Everyone says the Knight-Commander's gone crazy," Hawke's tone teasing as she questioned her old templar friend, "Are you still behind her?"

  The Knight-Captain's face soured, but he obliged the question. "The people ask too much of her. She needs a spine of iron to survive her position."   Ser Cullen's brow furrowed as he continued, "I have seen madness before: I saw Uldred's eyes when there was nothing human left in them. The Knight-Commander...she is not there, yet."   His tawny eyes turned steely, "But I do not have to ask where the rumors come from."

"If it comes to war with the mages," Hawke pushed, guessing at the young templar's line of thought, "who's side do you think the Grand Cleric will take?"

"She is bound by faith and duty to support the templars; we have dominance over mages by divine right," Ser Cullen stated, adamantly.   "But it is cruel how she leads them on—letting them think they might have a chance at rebellion."

"We'll see what comes," Hawke smiled, gently, "I pray to the Maker we can avoid further bloodshed. Andraste knows I've seen enough. I just wanted to see how an old friend is doing in this difficult time?"

  The weary Knight-Captain gave Hawke the smallest of smiles that did not reach his eyes. "After what happened in Ferelden, I told myself I would never again question the purpose of the Order. But it grows harder each day to tell whether I'm serving the templars or only the Knight-Commander." His shoulders slumped as doubt edged its way into his voice.   "It may be that they are no longer one and the same.” Worry crossed his features. “I fear Ser Alrik's plan may seem a mercy compared to what is to come."   His face turned serious again as he met Hawke's eyes. “I hope the Order can count on your support, Champion."

  ‘It is man who has twisted the tenet and sown fear’. The boy I knew had been so thoroughly broken that he'd given in—mind and soul—to the Order he had questioned at one time. Life had been open with possibilities when he first stepped into the Order. He'd believed in protecting and serving, but believed things could be better than they were.   Then he'd seen firsthand all he'd been taught to believe in his training at the hands of Uldred and his acolytes. No matter how he'd questioned or wanted to believe differently before—to see what he'd been told, been warned of, been instructed to believe come to fruition; to have all his friends die in front of him; to have been mentally assaulted, physically abused by the people he'd vowed to protect had broken the boy I knew completely. Only for him to be patched up in the worst possible way at the hands of Meredith and Kirkwall.   Yet, beneath it all he had doubt. He didn't speak it outright, but his actions spoke for him. Cullen had reinstated Keran, despite what had to have been his worst fears coming to light in blood mages summoning demons to possess recruits. He spared mages on nothing more than Hawke's word. Vouched for leniency for them and the templars to the Knight-Commander whenever Hawke asked him. Suspected that Hawke was behind Alrik's death, but never pursued the matter. Cullen knew Hawke had apostates working with her and yet never arrested them or Hawke. He even voiced his doubts about Meredith to Hawke on occasion, but he still hadn't completely turned against her. 

  "Cullen," I whispered, my heart twanging with pain. ‘What I allowed my hatred and fear to convince me was right’. Tears stung my eyes as I pondered the words Varric had written. How vilely had his pain—his fear—twisted him? His very soul? He'd sacrificed his humanity for the sake of duty.   He was eager to serve the Order and had vowed not to question it because when he had before, horrific things happened. How much farther had Meredith pushed that corruption that he would even consider the thoughts of Alrik, who wanted to make every mage Tranquil, valid or merciful? I had to remind myself that he did not know the full extent of Alrik's depravity until later. The thought that he was so afraid of mages and magic, so willing to be obedient to the Order he'd once questioned, that he'd be accepting of widespread tranquility...   "Oh, Cullen. What did you let them do to you?"

Then the Chantry exploded; the breaking point finally came and the nightmare Cullen described broke loose. Hawke made her way to The Gallows. The scene Varric wrote was brutal.   Orsino, the First Enchanter, tried to curb the death by asking Meredith to jail the remaining mages instead of killing them all. Hawke tried to intervene, to make them compromise, but Meredith would hear none of it—wanting to sate the people of Kirkwall's perceived want for blood. Before her attack commenced, she did allow the mages time to prepare for her assault. As the assault began, a few mages begged Hawke for their lives, Meredith stormed in and said the Circle was beyond saving.

Ser Cullen turned to his superior, “Knight-Commander, surely the Rite of Annulment requires something more—,”

“It requires my word, Cullen. Do as I’ve commanded,” Meredith barked at him.

The mages continued to beg for their lives. Hawke demanded to hear what the Knight-Captain had to say. “I—the Rite has always been a last resort, when every mage involved was beyond salvation. The situation was far more dire in the Fereldan Circle, yet many mages were saved. We could still do as much here,” he offered Meredith.

“Objection noted, Captain,” Meredith retorted, venomously, her lip curling at the young templar's questioning of her leadership.

“Is there a way to tell if they’re blood mages?” Hawke asked Meredith.

“There is not,” she replied, her blue eyes icy.

“But they haven’t resorted to it—even to save their own lives—perhaps if we watch them carefully—” Ser Cullen interjected.

“And if they hope to escape by playing innocent? Will you accept that responsibility, Cullen?” Meredith snarled as she rounded on him.

The Knight-Captain didn’t hesitate in his response, his tired eyes clearing as if coming out of a haze as he met his superior's burning gaze. “Yes, I believe that’s what being a templar is about.”

“And I say we are here to protect the people,” Meredith argued, “We must be judges, jailers and even executioners.” She turned her back to her Knight-Captain.

“We’re here to prevent a crisis, not raze everything in our path,” Hawke's brow knit, her usually calm voice holding an edge.

“Listen to the Champion,” Cullen instructed the other templars as he and the others left Meredith to take the mages that had surrendered someplace safe.

  Meredith kept pushing, making her way further into The Gallows. Hawke set her people to protect the mages, to Orsino’s relief. He raged at the templars' actions, urging the mages left to leave Kirkwall and spread word of what was happening. He called upon them to encourage their fellow mages to rise up against the Templar Order—for these injustices were the last straw.   Hawke gave a rallying speech, saying that it was time to take a stand, before the templars smashed through the doors. By Varric’s description it was a bloodbath. Orsino’s will broke in the aftermath as he gave into blood magic and became a grotesque monster without thought as he began killing everything in his path. Hawke had to end his life to defend her own. With nearly all the mages dead, Hawke tracked down Meredith.

“And here we are Champion, at long last,” Meredith issued a near feral growl.

“You’ll pay for what you’ve done here,” Hawke challenged, her azure eyes full of rage and fire.

  “I will be rewarded for what I’ve done here! In this world and the next!” Meredith roared, “I have done nothing, but perform my duty." Ser Cullen turned his head to his superior at those words.   "What happens to you now is entirely your own doing. In defending the mages, you have chosen to share their fate.”

“Knight-Commander,” Ser Cullen interrupted, his eyes hard as he looked his superior in the face, “I thought we intended to arrest the Champion?”

“You will do as I command, Cullen,” Meredith spat.

“No!” Cullen vehemently refused, “I defended you when Thrask started whispering you were mad, but this is too far.”

“I will not allow insubordination!” Meredith shouted, drawing her sword on Ser Cullen, “We must stay true to our path!”

“Andraste’s dimpled butt cheeks,” I said in alarm as I realized Meredith’s sword was embedded with the same red lyrium that had driven Bartrand insane.

“You recognize it, do you not?” Meredith asked, an oiliness entering her voice as she pet the sword, “Your lyrium, taken from the Deep Roads. The dwarf charged a great deal for his prize.”

“The idol poisoned Bartrand’s mind in the end,” Hawke said, sadly.

“He was weak!” Meredith spat, “Whereas I am not.” Meredith turned to the templars as she screeched, “All of you, I want her dead!”

“Enough!” Knight-Captain Cullen shouted, “This is not what the Order stands for! Knight-Commander, step down! I relieve you of your command!”

  Meredith snapped, her eyes going wild, “My own Knight-Captain falls prey to the influence of blood magic. You all have! You’re all weak!"   Meredith swung her sword sporadically at her men, "Allowing the mages to control your minds, to turn you against me!”    She turned back to Hawke, her sword raised, “But I don’t need any of you! I will protect this city myself!”

Cullen stepped between them, drawing his own sword, “You’ll have to go through me.”

“Traitor,” she seethed at him before glaring at Hawke, “I’ll have both your heads!”

“She’s lost it, just like Bartrand,” I murmured to Hawke.

  Meredith attacked, the red lyrium giving her abilities beyond that of a normal human. I now understood Cullen and Varric's fear of the red lyrium. Cullen and Hawke fought together, alongside the other templars and Hawke’s people. A few templars died at Meredith’s hand, but the lyrium slowly worked its way into her body. When it finally consumed her, she cried to the Maker for help, before turning into a statue of red lyrium. Cullen and the others saluted Hawke.

  Closing the book, I pondered all I had read for a time. Pondered all Cullen had supposedly done and said according to the words. I understood Solana’s concern and even anger. I felt hurt and anger at what he’d spoken, but also knew what he had suffered. Though not an excuse for his actions, I could understand how he'd come to the place he had. I’d allowed myself to go there, so I could hardly stand in judgment.   All I could do was talk to him about it when I returned, as it was vital to the battalion’s success that he no longer held the extreme end of these views. He seemed to have grown and let go even in the span of his time at Kirkwall; more so since he'd left and joined the Inquisition.   Not that I didn’t understand his anger and distrust over what had happened with Uldred, but surely he could see that not every mage was willing to give into evil? If he still believed that, then what did he think of me? What were his true feelings towards me? If I became possessed, would he put me down without hesitation? Would he even be able to love me if that were constantly in the back of his mind?   The same went for the battalion. Would he trust the mages selected to defend the people we both cared about or would he fear we'd turn into blood mages? The fact that he’d been the one to request the battalion told me enough. However, the only way I would know for certain would be by asking him about his past; not judging him guilty without giving him a chance to defend himself.   As I was worrying over these thoughts, Ellana and Leliana returned. Exhausted, splattered with blood. Ellana had a bewildered look on her face. 

“What happened?” I asked.

“I think we just recruited someone who is a little crazy,” Ellana blew out a breath.

Leliana laughed, “Crazy, but not stupid. Her place within the network of Red Jennies will be an asset. Plus, we could use a bit of color in the Inquisition.”

“Color?” Ellana questioned, exasperatedly, “She’s the whole friggin’ rainbow.”

I had no idea what they were talking about, but Ellana’s expression made me laugh heartily. She explained what had happened: that an elf named Sera was the 'Jenny' from the letter, how she’d stolen the pants of the guards that came to attack them and how she talked absolute nonsense that Leliana somehow had understood.

…

Ellana and Leliana bathed in turn. Ellana went right to sleep after she’d slipped into bed. Leliana noticed Varric’s book and came to sit across from me.

“You read it all already?” she asked, a brow quirked.

“Varric is a good writer. Besides, I wanted to know what Solana was talking about,” I nodded.

“Don’t believe everything Varric wrote,” she warned, “It’s entirely one-sided.”

  “I know that. Even so, I…understand why Cullen felt the way he did after what happened at Kinloch Hold. It was not an easy time for any of us.” I toyed with the cover of the book as I looked away.   “However, if there’s even a hint of truth to the extremism Varric paints him as having, I need to know. I need to know if he still holds those views. This battalion will never succeed if there is; an alliance with the mages will never succeed. He cannot blame us as a whole because of the actions of a few; he cannot distrust us all because we have the potential to be corrupted.”

“True enough,” she conceded, “but talk to him about it, get his side, before you attack him.”

“I would never attack him,” I murmured.

She looked me over. “You still love him, then?”

“Still? How did—“ I began, but she cut me off.

“Solana told me about you two,” she shrugged, “Plus, it’s obvious to the trained eye.”

“You’re in love with a templar?” Ellana shot out of bed.

“I-I—” I stammered.

“By the Creators, I should have known,” she smacked herself in the forehead, “It’s so obvious now!”

“Ellana—,” I started to explain.

“No,” she growled, “You can’t be with one of them. What are you thinking?”

I threw my covers off and charged her. “Don’t you dare tell me who I can and can’t be with,” my eyes blazing, “I love you my sister, but he-he means more to me than you could ever know.”

“Why?” she implored. “What relationship could you've possibly had with your jailer?”

  “He was kind, friendly, and he treated me—along with other mages—as an equal compared to the other templars in the tower," I began to explain.   "Though I was in his charge, he sought to befriend me. He delivered books to me that he thought I would like, sought out my company and looked after me. He was in awe of my magic instead of afraid. I could talk to him freely and I often did." I smiled wistfully before my face fell.   "Then the Blight happened. Uldred and his followers did horrible things to all of us until the Hero saved the tower. Cullen was broken after that." I wouldn't reveal to them any details of what had happened to Cullen, but met Ellana's eyes to beg her to understand.   "He left for Kirkwall. I followed a few years after, but...Alrik captured me to perform sadistic experiments for his own ends." I rolled up my sleeves to display some of my scars. Ellana’s eyes widened in horror; I had not shown them to her when we'd talked about Alrik before.   “Cullen rescued me as he was making his way through The Gallows to save any remaining mages from abominations after the Chantry had exploded. He and Bethany tried to nurse me back to health, but I was broken. They wanted to ease the pain inflicted on me. Cullen sanctioned having a dreamer reshape my memories. I reacted poorly, drawing the attention of a demon and I had to be made Tranquil instead. He sent me back to Ferelden and I eventually wound up among the Inquisition. He has been instrumental in my having a place here. He has confessed that he's made mistakes and has admitted his regret to me. He walked away from the templars. He is trying to help all peoples through the Inquisition.”

Ellana studied my face before sighing. “For your sake, I will try not to hold his prior grievances against him.”

“That’s all I can ask,” I gave her a soft smile, “I’m sorry for snapping at you.” My eyes flicked to Leliana, who's face was unreadable, but she gave me a slight nod.

Ellana waved her hand, accepting my apology and we returned to our beds.

[the-arcane-archivist]

The Chains They Placed

Part 1 of The Unbreaking Series Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II Relationship: Cullen Rutherford/Female Surana Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Dragon Age: Inquisition Ensemble, Lavellan Clan (Dragon Age), Non-Inquisitor MC, Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Female Surana (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Rylen (Dragon Age), Bethany Hawke, Minave (Dragon Age), Original Characters Additional Tags: Implied Sexual Content, Lyrium Withdrawal, Lyrium Addiction, Romance, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Canon-Typical Behavior, Sided with Mages & Templars, Dreamers (Dragon Age), Fade Spirits, The Fade (Dragon Age), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Fix-It of Sorts, Andrastians, Dalish Elven Culture & Customs (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford Has Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Cullen Rutherford has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Fluff, Slow Burn, Canon Compliant - Some Divergence, Attempting to Fix Cullen Rutherford’s Redemption Arc

Chapter 31: Tale of the Champion

Chapter 30 | Chapter 32 | AO3

MEIRA 

  It was evening when we left Solana’s shop. We had decided that for the meeting place in the mysterious ‘Red Jenny’ letter, Leliana and Ellana would go without me. Ellana would be herself and I, as Talitha, would return to the inn below. I climbed the trellis down to the window and entered the room.   It had been cleaned and a tray of light fare sat upon the dining table. I chewed on some bread and cheese before I noticed a letter addressed to Talitha from...Commander Rutherford. ‘I will write’. I tore the letter open, hardly believing he had actually written. I found his handwriting fitting to him: simple and neat, but his chosen words held feeling. 

Talitha,

I hope all is going well for your task and that nothing has been too difficult. I apologize for not being able to fully disclose everything to you prior to your departure, but secrecy was deemed vital.    I am currently with our friends from the Free Marches. This bandit threat is larger than we originally believed, but they were able to discover a hideout and their main base of operations. We've assaulted both: the hideout, a small camp off the East Road and their main base of operations an abandoned villa hidden within the woods to the west of Dennet’s land.   The villa is unusual—architecturally speaking—but, is beautifully situated. It is now undergoing repairs before being outfitted as a keep for the Inquisition’s forces stationed in the area. Corporal Vale will be promoted to Sergeant upon completion for his efforts and efficiency.   I can hardly believe the next words I'm going to write to you, but I am sure you will find it fascinating. When we were attacking the bandits on the East Road, a dragon flew overtop of our battle. I sent word to Researcher Minaeve and her response was...excited, to say the least. Dragons were generally believed to be extinct and to be wrong was a great discovery to her. Thus far, the dragon is staying within the valley she has claimed, but it may be a threat we will have to address. I pray not, as the creature was magnificent to look at, though I will admit she was intimidating—it would be an excellent subject for a sketch.    Researcher Minaeve has discovered quite a few more demon weaknesses for us to exploit, as well as medicinal uses for some of their ‘parts’. Healer Bethany is doing well, though missing your assistance. Sister Nightingale hoped she’d be able to recruit another healer while seeing to other business. Was she successful?    What do you think of the idea Sister Nightingale should have proposed to you? I hope we can discuss it in-depth upon your return, if you find it agreeable.

Commander Rutherford

  I knew he had to be professional in his writing, but I could tell between the words he’d been worried how I’d take the news about my new roles. He added the rest to sound as if he were talking to a colleague, in case the letter were intercepted, but he knew I’d want to be informed of the current events.   The last bit is what made me smile. He was excited about the battalion, which made me think of Solana’s earlier comments about him. I glanced at the Tale of the Champion sitting on my bed. Curiosity won out and I determined I would read it as Solana said I should, even if I agreed with Leliana that Varric was prone to lying. I wrote Cullen back first, writing under his letter.

Commander Rutherford, 

All went well with my task. Initial difficulties are to be expected, but I will find my stride. Secrecy was vital, so no apology necessary.

I hope our Marcher friends are well. I am relieved the bandit threat is ended. The villa sounds interesting, I hope to be able to see it. It will be good for our people to have a more secure foothold in the area. How are the farmers and refugees? 

A dragon would've been an amazing site, I'm sorry to have missed it. And you are correct, a wonderful creature to draw. They were believed to be extinct, yes. I can hardly imagine one still living, let alone in a place as populace as her chosen spot. Hopefully she does not become a nuisance; it would be a shame to put such a creature down. 

Do you know how construction is going back at Haven? Have the Horsemaster's mounts arrived? Has he decided if he will aide the Inquisition by acting as its horsemaster? 

I am glad to hear about Researcher Minaeve and Healer Bethany. I will be interested to see the Researcher's notes on her newest discoveries. I'm sure she'll have thoughts on the dragon as well. I will be eager to provide assistance to Healer Bethany in the form of a new healer. Sister Nightingale was successful in her recruitment of Magpie. Are you familiar with Magpie?

I look forward to discussing the proposal when I return, though I hope we may do so without interruption as I have numerous ideas.

Talitha

  I folded the parchment and resealed it before I slid it under the door for our courier to pick up. With that finished, I undressed to my tunic and pants. I couldn't help but feel a little naked without my hood or a piece of cloth wrapped around my forehead, but the idea of not always having to hide was growing on me. I was tired of being in the shadows—at least as Talitha, I wouldn't have to be. At that encouraging thought, I poured a glass of wine, grabbed Varric’s book and sat at the dining table to read while I ate from the tray of food.

…

  I raced through the book. Whatever Varric’s faults, he was an excellent writer. It took some time to finally reach where Cullen entered the story. It began as he had said, with Keran’s sister asking Marian Hawke for assistance in finding her brother.   Keran's fellow recruits had led Marian to following Cullen as he tracked another recruit that had been missing. She found him confronting the boy, Wilmod, on the road—harshly from Varric’s description which Cullen himself had admitted. Hawke tried to intervene, but Cullen barked for her to stay out of it.   The boy turned into an abomination before their eyes. Varric described Cullen going from a hardened templar to a state of panic at the abomination's appearance and its subsequent summoning of more demons. They were forced to kill the recruit. Once he was dead, Cullen turned to Hawke.

  "I knew, I knew he was involved in something sinister!" the imposing templar shouted before eyes full of fire turned to Hawke.   He was young, a few years younger than Hawke herself, but his tawny eyes held the light of someone who'd lived more years than his age. A face of strain and weariness took over as the anger slipped away. He broke eye contact, pacing before Hawke; his rugged features shifting as he collected himself.   "But this...is it even possible?" his deep voice questioned aloud.

"Do you think he was possessed?" Hawke questioned, her gaze following the templar like her name sake.

  "Normally, we only worry that mages will fall victim to possession," the templar explained. His voice easing as he knelt to the ground, keen eyes investigating the scene around him.   "I have heard of blood mages or demons, in solid form, who could summon others into unwilling hosts. I had not thought one of our own could be so susceptible." The man's voice turned despondent as he uttered his last sentence.

"You shouldn't have been out here alone with him," Hawke chided. "Who are you?"

  "I am Knight-Captain Cullen and I thank you for your assistance," the Knight-Captain introduced himself, his eyes meeting Hawke’s once more as he stood.   "I've been conducting an investigation into some of our recruits that have gone missing. Wilmod was the first to return. I had hoped to confront him quietly, out of sight."

"If you didn't know he was possessed, why draw your sword on a recruit?" Hawke questioned.

  The surly Knight-Captain looked off in the distance, his voice growing weary as he spoke, "He'd only been back a few days when he left again secretly. It set off some warning bells."   He paused, his face falling almost imperceptibly as his voice softened, "I meant to scare him into a confession. He had to believe my threats were genuine."

"The recruits believe that Meredith was conducting some sort of deadly ritual," Hawke stated, "Was this part of that?"

  "What?" the templar asked incredulously as his eyebrows rose, "That's preposterous." He rubbed his forehead in agitation.   "Recruits can be worse than a weaving circle with their rumors." He dropped his hand and sighed.   "There is a vigil before templars take their arms, but the gravest danger they face is falling asleep."

Hawke's mouth pulled into a smirk for a moment, before her face turned serious again. "Do you know what happened to Wilmod while he was gone?" she questioned, a dark brow arching.

  “Obviously, more than I had anticipated. Wilmod had never been fully...convinced of the Order’s rules," the weary Knight-Captain sighed. The man looked in desperate need of a good night's rest as his bloodshot eyes met Hawke's again, dark circles beneath the tawny irises. Ser Cullen massaged his forehead once more, as if trying to dispel a headache.   "Mages cannot be our friends, they must always be watched. I thought Wilmod might be meeting with some old friends who’d escaped the Circle.”

Hawke crossed her arms over her chest, signifying her opposition to the Knight-Captain's opinions. “I have friends who are mages. Are you saying they must ‘always be watched’ as well?”

  “I was at the Circle tower in Ferelden during the Blight," Ser Cullen countered defensively, drawing himself up to his considerably full height.   "I saw firsthand how templars’ trust and leniency can be rewarded."

"’Trust and leniency’?" Anders barked, his voice seething, "Is that what you call it?"

  Ser Cullen glanced at Anders, but his gazed returned to Hawke. "I still have nightmares of Uldred’s depravities." The Knight-Captain shook his head as if to stave off thoughts.   "If I may ask, what brings you out here? Were you looking for me?"

Hawke shook her head, her dark hair swaying with the movement. "I was trying to find another recruit," Hawke explained, "A friend of Wilmod's. Do you know where Keran is?"

  The Knight-Captain's shoulders fell as he shook his head. "He also disappeared," he admitted, dejectedly, "They were last seen together at the Blooming Rose, but I had no luck interrogating the...uh—young ladies...there." Ser Cullen's surliness broke momentarily as he tripped over his words. His serious face turning bashful as a flush spread across his features. His eyes darted away from Hawke's for a moment as he cleared his throat.   "I doubt they know anything of magic or demons."

  Hawke's own composure slipped this time as a mischievous glint entered her azure eyes. A roguish smile twisted her lips, indicating that her sarcastic nature was winning out with whatever she would say to the templar next.   "I'll speak with them," she chuckled. Everyone knew what the Blooming Rose was and what kind of 'young ladies' occupied the establishment. Hawke clearly reveled in the dignified templar's delicate sensibilities when it came to the more carnal needs of his recruits.   Hawke lowered her voice into a more sensual tone, mocking the uncomfortable Knight-Captain, "You never know how much you can learn from pillow talk."

  Ser Cullen inclined his head, relief flickering over his face. "The Order would truly be in your debt if you'd help us with this. No one at the...brothel will speak with me, for fear that I would shut them down for serving our recruits." His lips twitched as if he might smile, but instead his face soured. He closed the gap between he and Hawke, his eyes full of fire again.   "If you learn what manner of creature did this to Wilmod, please come tell me in The Gallows. I will ensure you are rewarded."

  Hawke took over the case from there: visiting the brothel to discover the blood mage named Iduna that tried to seduce Hawke and her companions with blood magic. Upon killing her, Hawke discovered that blood mages were forcibly turning templar-recruits into abominations.   Their goal was to destabilize the Templar Order, destroy the Chantry and take over Kirkwall. They cut down the crazed maleficarum and found Keran. Anders tested him to ensure he was not possessed before they saw Keran safely returned to the Gallows.

  "Blood mages have infiltrated your ranks," Hawke informed Ser Cullen as she reported to the Knight-Captain. He swiftly turned, that panic when he'd faced Wilmod as an abomination flickering in his eyes.   "They've been implanting your recruits with demons."

"Sweet blood of Andraste!" Ser Cullen cursed.

  The young templar, Keran, and his sister had been in an embrace as Hawke and Ser Cullen spoke. The girl backed away from her brother, terror in her eyes.   "Demons? Did you say something about the recruits and demons?" she questioned, her wide eyes falling to her brother.

  "I didn't want to tell you, Macha," Keran pleaded, "They-they were horrible." Keran turned to his superior officer.   "Those mages see the rest of us as ants to be crushed. They won't stop until they've destroyed the Chantry and the templars forever."

"Can you blame them? I disagree with their methods, but mages have been systematically abused by the templars for a thousand years," Hawke argued.

  Ser Cullen shifted on his feet, drawing himself up again as his hackles raised. His eyes narrowed on Hawke, "How can you say that after what you've seen?" His voice turned as fiery as his eyes.   "True, not every mage gives into temptation, but none are ever free of it,” the Knight-Captain sliced a hand through the air as his words bit like a sword. “At any time, any mage could become a monster. From the lowest apprentice to the most seasoned enchanters. Mages cannot be treated like people, they are not like you and me."

Keran's sister, having collected herself, interjected, "Surely, that's a little harsh."

Ser Cullen's eyes settled on the woman for a moment as he continued, “They are weapons. They have the power to light a city on fire in the fit of pique."

"Mages are humans and elves just like the rest of us," Hawke shook her head.

  Ser Cullen's expression changed to one of pity. "Many might go their whole lives thinking that." Beneath his statement was a hint of wistfulness, but he shook his head.   "But if even one in ten falls to the lure of blood magic, they could destroy this world."

  "Oh, Cullen," I murmured aloud. ‘I do not want you to think I am a monster, nor do I want you—want mages—to feel like they are monsters’. ‘Any mage could become a monster’. ‘My hands are drenched in blood too, Meira.’ My heart ached as I read Varric's words and I knew I was only at the beginning.    ‘Fear took root and sank deep’. I knew he wasn't saying that all mages are monsters. He wasn't even saying that mages are inherently evil. However, his words were a far cry from the boy who'd looked me in the eyes and said he didn't want me to feel like I am a monster; that he wanted to be my friend.   I couldn't even say I wholly disagreed with his words if someone were to ask me; there was truth in them. While anyone else could kill or destroy with the right weapons, mages are weapons—we’re unable to disarm. Some use that weapon to defend, others use it to destroy, but to deny that we are susceptible to powerful influences and possession would be idiocy.    Where he was wrong was his thinking that a gift we were born with—that we had no power in choosing—somehow made us unworthy of humane treatment. Bethany told me he'd stopped physical abuses, but had allowed others. ‘Sharpening it like a blade to turn against those in my charge. I did so, gladly’. Could I blame him for his thought process? He'd been treated less than humanely at the hands of mages and blood magic; had nearly been driven mad by it.    Yet, I had suffered at the hands of a templar and did not come out the other side blaming the entire Order. ‘I simply wish I had been...as gallant in the aftermath of my ordeal’. My hands were not clean of vengeance, though, as I'd slaughtered that templar camp back in the Hinterlands.   My heart twisted. He'd been trying to tell me all along how far he'd fallen in the aftermath of Uldred's revolt. I stood by the things I had said to him, though. If he truly did regret what he had said and done in his years at Kirkwall and was trying his best to be better, then who was I—who was anyone—to judge him unworthy of another chance? That was between him and his Maker and the Maker had worked his life to place him amongst the Inquisition where mages and templars were working together. I continued to read.

The Knight-Captain turned to his recruit, clasping his armored hands behind his back. "For now, Keran—unless it is proven you are free of demons—I must strip you of your commission immediately."

Macha panicked at Ser Cullen's order, "No! You can't really think that," her voice and eyes begged for mercy, "Keran's fine. He's safe."

  "Please, ser," Keran pleaded, "I tried to resist, I never took anything they offered." The boy searched his superior's face.  "I need this position or my sister can't eat. I've been training for five years."

Instead of answering, the Knight-Captain's tired eyes turned to Hawke. 

"We conducted tests on Keran," Hawke vouched for the boy, "He's not possessed. He can stay in the Order."

  "I hesitate to ask what methods you used that you are so certain," Ser Cullen quirked a brow.   He debated for a moment before continuing, "Still, you have done much for us by stopping these blood mages. I will heed your request. If he has shown no signs of demonic possession in ten years time, Keran will become eligible for full knighthood."

"Thank you, serah. Again," Macha approached Hawke, "but without a full knighthood, Keran's pay is so small. I do not know if I can reward you as you deserve." The girl cast her eyes to the ground in shame.

  "I will handle that, miss," Ser Cullen interjected, stepping forward to hand Hawke a bag of coin. "You have done the Order a great service. We will not forget it."

Hawke was able to talk Cullen down a bit, getting him to relax his harsh judgment of the recruit. Hawke seemed to have an unusual affect on Cullen, at least initially, in getting him to see through his cloud of anger and distrust. The way Varric wrote them even made me question if there was not a mutual romantic interest in the beginning of their relationship. I'll have to tease him about that. A little time passed, but Hawke found herself in The Gallows once more. She approached Cullen and engaged in a polite conversation.

"I have told the Knight-Commander of your service," Ser Cullen informed Hawke, his tone slightly less irritable, "She commends your quick thinking and has agreed to keep the lad, Keran, around for observation."

"I've heard a lot about the Knight-Commander," Hawke began, her voice turning charming as she looked the Knight-Captain over, "What's she really like?" 

  "She is not an easy taskmaster," Ser Cullen offered, "but it is not an easy task." His lips twitched before he quickly moved on.   "I would not have liked her when I was younger. I thought mages deserved a softer touch. But Meredith is never fooled by a sweet face, she always sees the demon behind it."

"I'm not sure if that's a comforting thought," Hawke breathed a laugh. "You sound Fereldan. How did you end up here?"

  The Knight-Captain's eyes swam with memories that seemed to haunt him. "I was in the Circle tower when Uldred summoned his demons. I was held in a cage for..." the man paused, staring at nothing.   When he spoke, his voice was shaky, "I can't even say. Weeks? Months? It was one unending nightmare." His voice broke. Fear was plain on his face.   "What those mages did...what they became. I would gladly give my life to avoid seeing that again."

"It sounds like you had a very poor experience with mages, Ser Cullen," Hawke offered, "For what it's worth, I am sorry."

Ser Cullen inclined his head. "Thank you. I...learned my lesson and learned it well. I vowed to never again question the Order after that."

"What's it like being in the Order?" Hawke questioned, "Do you feel that you're accomplishing anything?"

  "The templars are not a good choice for anyone who requires a strong sense of achievement," Ser Cullen admitted, "It's a losing battle," his shoulders slumped.   "Every day new mages are born in Thedas. Every day those born a dozen years ago come into their power,” shrugging wearily he continued, "The best we can do is contain the threat and recruit more to fill our own ranks when they're emptied."

"You have to admit," Hawke began, her voice cautious, "the templars have brought some of this hatred on themselves." 

"That is the popular school of thought, no?" Ser Cullen grumbled.

"Its the truth," Anders growled.

  The Knight-Captain glanced toward the apostate before looking towards the Gallows. "It used to be that templars were welcomed wherever they went for protecting the people from dark magics. Now the townsfolk are as likely to slam their doors as offer us a bed," he groused, looking around the courtyard.   "The image of the poor, chained apprentice is a powerful one and one the mages are more than willing to exploit."