Mages or Templars: that is the question. And Cullen doesn’t intend to let the answer be made without voicing his thoughts. Even if the Herald doesn’t seem keen to hear it.

—–

Leave it be–the decision is out of your hands.



Maybe if I just talk to her…

No, no, don’t bother the Herald. She has plenty to worry about.

But if I could just convince her…

Cullen paced between the tents outside Haven’s walls, his gaze moving between the ground below him and the sight of the Lady Trevelyan’s back at the edge of the frozen lake. She had only been back a day from the Storm Coast, bringing with her a rather rambunctious group of mercenaries, and had barely had a minute to herself. Josephine and Leliana almost immediately pounced on the poor woman upon her return, trying to gauge if she had made a decision about approaching the mages or templars. The conversation would have carried on longer if not for Vivienne. Though the mage had only recently joined the Inquisition, she was quite capable of demanding respect and authority. She had snapped at the two women to allow the Herald at least two day’s time to come up with an answer.

Rather begrudgingly, the two had agreed. And now there was only one day left before they expected a response. He knew what side of the conflict they wished to ally themselves with. Cullen seemed to be the only one advocating to reach out to the Order. The reports from the Herald’s visit to Val Royeaux only made the matter seem far more desperate. If the Lord Seeker has truly lost his way… They needed to get to the Order before something happened to those within it.

He now dealt with his own conflict–whether or not to present his case to Florence and try to convince her to see his side. If she could see reason and understand what the Order could bring to their cause… but he didn’t want to bother her. Not after she had already heard the same argument plenty of times. It seemed to be all they could talk about during meetings at the war table. He was not blind to her patience wearing thin–by the time the meetings were adjourned, she often looked beyond exhausted. Once she had snapped at them to quit their bickering.

This is too important to ignore. He finally decided, rolling his shoulders as he moved past the tents towards where she sat. I have to at least try to make her see reason. There was no guarantee the rebel mages were even organized enough to aid them. The Templars were an organization that they could rely on. Assuming Lord Seeker Lucius hadn’t done something outrageously stupid to put the Order in peril.

The Herald was seated on the snow at the edge of the icy lake, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her arms were tucked under her chin, presumably lost in thought. She didn’t look up as Cullen stepped up beside her, glancing down at her. She looked completely lost in thought as she stared out beyond the ice, elbows resting on her knees. The skin of her neck was exposed underneath a blue scarf, the color of the fabric reflecting her eyes in the most appealing way. He cleared his throat as one hand involuntarily rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hera–Lady Trevelyan.” Cullen began to say, quickly remembering her request from a prior conversation. The edge of her lips twitched into a smirk.

“Nice catch, Commander.” She responded quietly, unmoving from her position in the snow.

“I wondered if I could perhaps speak with you.” He continued. She gave a curt nod in response, moving one hand to pat the ground next to her.

“Take a seat, then.” She said, finally glancing towards him expectantly. Really? He wanted to suggest otherwise, but her ice colored eyes were upon him and waiting. He reluctantly clamored to sit on the ground beside her, silently cursing his armor as he clumsily got situated. Her gaze shifted back out towards the lake, tucking her arm back under her chin as her chest lifted with a heavy sigh.

“It is peaceful, no?” Lady Trevelyan said in a distant voice. Cullen wasn’t entirely sure if she was truly expecting an answer or simply talking to herself. It was difficult to tell with the way she held herself. Almost cautiously.

“Compared to the noise of recruits training, anything else seems peaceful.” He responded. Her head shifted to her left–towards the ominous sight of the Breach looming over Haven.

“All that we need to do is close the Breach and it would be perfect…” She mumbled, her words almost inaudible.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about, Lady Trevelyan.” Cullen began to say. “I’m certain you are tired of hearing our arguments for who to side with, but I felt it necessary to make sure you considered both options.”

“There is no need, Commander.” She responded in a flat voice, pressing her lips together in a tight line. So it is the mages, then? What other choice would she consider, being a mage herself. He gritted his teeth, refusing to give up so easily.

“I know Leliana insists that more magic could strengthen the mark and power it to close the Breach, but I have to disagree. The Templars could suppress the magic of the Breach and allow you to close it permanently without risking some sort of magical catastrophe. The Order is trained to deal with magics of all types–if anyone knows how to prevent something disastrous from happening–”

“Commander–”

“–it would be the Templars. If the Lord Seeker is truly out of his wits, we need to get to the Order and secure an alliance with those still loyal to the Maker. We cannot allow them to–”

“I’m going to the Templars, Cullen.” She cut him off sharply, cold eyes meeting his own with a stern expression on her face. His eyes widened as he stammered over his words–his thoughts came to a halting stop, finding no immediate response. “I made up my mind this morning.” She continued, the severity gone from her tone as she looked back to the lake.

“Y-you did?” He stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. All that worrying for nothing. Her face seemed to shift into one of uncertainty, nervously biting her lip as she nodded. His eyes lingered on her lips for a moment longer than appropriate, clearing his throat. “If you don’t mind my asking… but why? I had assumed you would go to the rebel mages.”

“Because I do not see the Templars as my enemy.” Lady Trevelyan stated with a sigh, closing her eyes. “I had friends, family among the Templars in my Circle. My cousin was one of them–probably my closest friend there. He talked to me about what life was like for them. The way the Chantry leashes the Order to lyrium… they were no more free than we were. And yet, it was rare to find understanding between the two groups. Being forced to live in a tower with no freedom to leave makes people resentful. When the Circles began to rebel… I did not want bloodshed. I wanted lenience–tolerance. I wanted my fellow mages to be equals to the Templars, not prisoners.”

“I watched mages I considered friends rebel and fight templars I considered friends.” Her voice grew quieter, icy eyes opening and staring at the ground. “In that moment, it was not the templars I was afraid of. Arlen, my cousin–he was…”

She trailed off with a shake of her head and pressed one palm to her temple, fingers tangling through her tightly bound black hair. “I’m rambling. What I’m trying to say is that I believe the Templars are capable–capable enough to do exactly what you were saying, Commander.” She held out her left hand, calling attention to the lightning-like scar upon her palm. “I do not know if it is the right decision. I do not know what will become of my fellow mages if we go to the Templars. But I do know that I would rather not pump more magic into something that had once before been killing me.”

“It is wise to be cautious…” Cullen spoke slowly, unsure of what to say. Silence fell over them as Lady Trevelyan tucked her hands back under her chin, eyes unfocused as she looked across the lake. He tried to think of something to say–thank you, maybe–but the words escaped him each moment he glanced towards her to speak. Something about her tale had caught his attention. Her cousin–a Templar at the Ostwick Circle. Judging by the way she had avoided speaking of it, he assumed the man was gone. Perhaps a result of the rebellion itself. He knew what it felt like to watch friends die–Kinloch Hold still haunted his sleeping hours. His closest friends had perished. And from what he gathered, she had lost hers as well.

“I, uh… I’m sorry about your cousin. Arlen, you said?” Cullen finally spoke. She slowly raised her head to look at him, her lips parted in surprise at his words. “Would you… You could tell me about him, if you… If it might help.” He stammered out the words, his cheeks flushing pink as he rubbed the back of his neck. Maker’s breath, I’m hopeless. “I understand if you don’t wish to speak of it.”

“No, no, I…” Her response was quick, verging on urgent as she sat up from her hunched posture. “I appreciate the sentiment. Arlen was… “ She paused, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “He was a pain in the ass. I think he was in trouble with his superiors more often than not. But he was good at his job–he took his training very seriously when he decided to.” She hesitated, the smile fading as her brows furrowed in thought. “It cost him his life when some within my Circle rebelled. Fighting broke out when the First Enchanter tried to prevent mages from leaving–Arlen died protecting those caught in the middle of the fighting.”

“He sounds like an honorable man.” Cullen offered. Lady Trevelyan nodded slowly.

“The least I can do to honor his memory is go to the Order–any true Templar will see reason and come to our aid.” Her left hand curled shut into a fist. She glanced towards Cullen, smiling softly. “I can’t imagine Leliana will be happy about it.”

“She’ll be fine–we did, after all, leave the decision in your hands.” He replied lightly. Another silence came over them as she nodded and looked towards the lake, once more burdened by her thoughts. He could see it in the way her brows furrowed, her eyes becoming unfocused. Part of him longed to know what exactly went through her thoughts when she became distracted like so. But it was not his place to pry–he had work he should likely be doing rather than staring at the Herald of Andraste. In fact, the last thing he should be doing is staring at the Herald of Andraste. No matter how interesting she was to him. “I should let you get back to your thoughts, Lady Trevelyan. I did not mean to intrude.”

“Commander–” She cut off his retreat as he moved to stand. Her expression looked startled, almost alarmed at the fact that he was leaving. Maybe startled at the fact that she had stopped him. It even looked as though she had moved to reach out and grab him. Instead, her eyes shifted towards the ground with a sheepish smile, biting her lower lip. His own gaze lingered, watching the way her cheeks seemed to gain a hint of color and the snow that melted upon her pale skin. He wondered as he stared at her soft features what would it be like pull her close and hold her, to run his hand along the freckles on her cheeks, to feel her lips–

No, no–that is definitely inappropriate. Maker’s breath.

“Perhaps… would you mind staying with me for a moment longer? I may not be the most lively conversation partner, but I do appreciate the company.” Lady Trevelyan spoke quietly, her sparkling blue eyes meeting his gaze with sincerity. This woman is going to be the death of me. The last thing he should do was stick around–not with the sort of thoughts that had started intruding his thoughts when he saw her. It had started ever since she had smiled at him in the war room. The blue of her eyes, the soft freckles that covered her cheeks contrasted by dark hair, the complexity of who she was–all of it made her an intrigue to him. A woman he wanted to discover and know better. And unfortunately for his professional focus, that discovery extended to the physical as well. Walk away. But her eyes were shining as she gazed at him–more breathtaking than the frozen landscape beyond them.

He smiled sheepishly and shifted back to his original spot in the snow, nodding solemnly at her earnest expression. “Of course, Herald.” She narrowed her eyes in a playful scowl, shaking her head with a quiet laugh as she rested her chin upon her arms once more and looked out onto the lake. His own gaze seemed incapable of moving from her person, mesmerized by the way her hair swayed in the breeze and the way the snowflakes looked in her hair. He studied each freckle he could see upon her cheeks. The way her dark brows pressed down as she once more disappeared into her own head. How he had never noticed how pretty she was until recently, he did not know.

What he did know, however, was that he was in trouble. It was becoming quite clear that this was not some simple attraction. He genuinely enjoyed her presence, even one shared in complete silence as she stared at a frozen landscape. When she returned to camp from her expeditions, he felt excited to see her. This attraction, whatever it had started as, was becoming something more. Perhaps… maybe something I could bring up. He shook his head at the thought, turning his eyes away and simply enjoying the moment. The last thing on the Herald’s mind was being courted by her Commander, he was certain.

But for now… What had she called it? Peaceful? He smiled at the word, inclined to agree that there was nothing more peaceful than sitting next to such a beautiful woman and enjoying the silence of her company.