Chapter Text
Ellana struggled to keep her focus on the book at hand; an account from a historian trying to prove rumors and myths about inquisitor Ameridan that she wanted to read in preparation for the operations in the Frostback Basin. There was very little info on him, and the book was mostly a dry account of a mid-level scholar chasing down dead-end leads. Not only was it dry, but there was another book which she had a much greater desire to read, “The Tale of Mythal’s Touch,” A book Solas had fetched for her, written by a Dalish keeper. This story was much more close to home. In truth, it was a story she had heard many times before, the story of Mythal’s son and herself. But reading different accounts was always educational, since every clan had a slightly different telling. The book about Ameridan, however, was all about duty to the chantry, devotion to Andraste, things like that. Ellana could never get herself to care about Shem history, with their Chantry, templars, and false god. She played the game, pretended to understand and nod when people talked about how she was Herald of Andraste, but in private she thought it was all a load of bullshit. These things had been used as justification for the genocide of her people. To hear them tell of the love and mercy of Andraste sometimes made her sick.
She also wanted to read her other book because it was a little piece of Solas left behind. She missed him. After they defeated Corypheus a month ago he disappeared without a trace. She still wasn’t sure why, but she knew he had been planning on leaving, she had put that much together. That must have been why, after he removed the vallaslin, he had ended their… relationship? Was that what it was? She missed their talks about history and the fade. She missed him, and this book sitting on her desk had a little of him in it. He told her he left notes in the pages, little scraps of information he had collected over his travels about any inaccuracies or additional information he could point out about the story. Maybe the notes would have some clue… some little piece of Solas that would complete the puzzle of who he was and give her a hint to his whereabouts. She found herself looking for these clues everywhere. When she passed his desk, which no one had rearranged, she checked what books he had been reading. What was he trying to tell her through his beautiful murals? Sometimes, especially on long horse rides, she would drift off, re-visiting things she remembered him saying, anything he said, anything that would give her a clue. She thought that if she collected enough that they would sort of, shift in her brain into a pattern, and that she would suddenly understand him. But none of the little clues ever led her to any meaningful conclusion.
She put her book on Ameridan away and gently slid the Mythal one closer. She opened it to a page that had a little scrap of paper sticking out. It had a note in two different scripts. Common and Elvish. Ellana could read and speak common, but could only speak elven, the writing part was lost to time, but Solas had been teaching her how to write in elvish. Everything he gave her in writing was written twice, it was a small, thoughtful little thing, but before he left it always melted her heart. She still couldn't read the elven one, but it gave a nice opportunity to try. The note said, “The original temple referenced in this text has fallen to the bottom of the sea.” She almost laughed. There was no way he could have known that, he must have made it up, she thought. To have walked in the memories of an ancient temple, he told her he had to sleep in them, and unless he could breathe underwater, she was sure he’d have no way of knowing such a thing. Perhaps some memory he found of someone watching it fall into the sea?
About two years she'd known Solas. A year she'd loved him. And yet he was still a mystery. There were these exchanges between him and Cole that were ingrained in her mind. Barely comprehensible, but one thing she was certain of: he had made some sort of grave mistake when he was younger, and it haunted him. She'd spent long nights imagining him, holding her, telling her his dark secrets. She was sure that with enough affection and curiosity, he'd relent and tell her something shocking. But he didn't. He ran away. She still had hope he might come back, of course, but it had been a while since an empty ache had replaced the heartbreak he caused when he ended whatever they had. She was sad, yes, but it was a calm sort of sad, more of a curiosity. Curious about why he left, curious if he ever really loved her, curious what he was so scared of in the possibility of love.
She got up and wandered to the window, icy air biting at her nose and ears. She wanted to bring a chair and a blanket out and just stare into the wild. It might have been a waste of time, but then again a waste of time here or there may have been warranted. She had saved the world, maybe now she could start to take it slower?
A knock at the door pulled her back inside.
"Come in." She yelled down the steps. It was Cullen, who came up the stairs with a professional stride.
"Inquisitor, I have a report on the Frostback Basin for you,” He said, holding up a scroll. She walked over to take it from him.
“Can you give me the short of it?” she asked, placing it down on my desk.
“Yes ma’am,” He stood up straight, arms behind his back, “My scouts found heavy resistance from some Avvar tribesmen in the area.”
“The Avvar?” She groaned. Memories of dealing with them in the Fallow Mire flashed through her mind. A miserable trip, her feet were soaked through for weeks. She thought she was going to lose her feet, or at least a few toes.
“Yes ma’am, and Scout Harding tells me that the professor has not yet uncovered anything of note.”
She rubbed her temple, suddenly feeling so much more tired with the knowledge she would be off on another expedition soon.
“If that is all, I will take my leave inquisitor,” Cullen said, turning around.
“Wait,” She said, stopping him. He whipped his head back, expectantly, “Look, Cullen, please, can we not be friends again?”
“Excuse me?”
Ellana looked at his scandalized face. Cullen was a soldier, very comfortable with rank and decorum, and he had always been very professional with her but something had changed in their relationship after his struggles with lyrium addiction, right as she was just getting to know him. After she encouraged him to quit it, and he did successfully, he had distanced himself from her. She thought they were on the verge of being friends, of her being able to convince him that mages weren’t as dangerous as he had thought, but afterwards it seemed like he had become more standoffish. Not only that, but every time she tried to have some friendly conversation with him or invite him to a chess game he’d brush her off, make some weak excuse about a report he needed to write, which was definitely bullshit because his reports came directly to Ellana, so she’d know when he wrote one. Maybe he was angry at her for having him quit lyrium? Or angry that she banished the Gray Wardens, as it had occurred around the same time. She just wasn’t really sure what was bothering him.
“I just mean, we’ve saved the world together, and you forget I am not a soldier, I do not enjoy all the rank and professionalism. It seems the Inquisition will continue, looks as though we are still needed to calm the fighting between mages and templars and to track down the threat of red lyrium. So we will be working together for some time longer and I simply wish to be friends. You seem to have decided you don’t like me recently.”
Culled stared at her for a moment, still a bit shocked. Through her experience as being the leader of the Inquisition, Ellana found she had gained a lot of confidence, specifically the confidence to simply say what you feel. Before she was the Inquisitor she knew she would not often be taken seriously outside her clan, so her habit had been to shrink down, to stifle her personal feelings and thoughts, knowing they’d likely be disrespected anyway. But now, she found that people listened to her, and they respected her opinion, so she was much more apt to give it without fear.
“I am sorry if I gave that impression, Inquisitor,” Cullen said. She put a hand on her hip.
“Have I done something that you disapproved of?” Ellana asked.
“No, not at all, I trust your leadership. If I seemed distant you may account it to my being focused on our mission.” Ellana was not convinced.
“Is it because I am an apostate mage?”
“No! Not at all, in fact you have changed my view on mages entirely. I am ashamed of what I once thought of mages.”
“What is it then, Cullen? You are, in many respects, my right hand man, and if I cannot trust that you are 100% behind me, then I don’t feel we can lead the Inquisition well and I will not be inclined to trust you.”
That struck a chord. She could tell that being accused of untrustworthiness hurt him a bit. It was obvious he had not expected this attack after delivering a routine report. He stood silent for a while, shifting uncomfortably between his feet. She gestured an offer to him to sit down on my couch, he shook his head and waved the offer away. Then, after another moment, he spoke.
“Ok. Very well, I shied away from our friendship simply because I was embarrassed about how I acted when I was coming off the lyrium.”
"Embarrassed?"
"Yes, I had a moment of weakness that I never wanted to trouble you with. I should have simply persevered and kept it between Cassandra and myself." His voice had softened, grown quiet.
"But I'm glad you told me about what was troubling you. If you had not come to me, wouldn't you be back on the lyrium? Or stepped down from your post?" Ellana asked.
"Maybe,” He said reluctantly, “Your orders did help to … motivate me to stay on the straight and narrow. But the point is I shouldn't have needed your help."
"Cullen, that is ridiculous. I do not look down on you for needing help or struggling with lyrium addiction. I am proud of you for kicking it and freeing yourself from the templars completely. You do not need to put up this ridiculous façade of professionalism. I need your advice and counsel.”
There was another moment of silence before she felt the need to add, in a softer tone, "In the clan, we relied on each other for everything. We all knew we needed each other to survive, so I have never felt It was shameful to ask for help, as maybe some human or dwarven cultures seem to think. Be ashamed to ask for help from any human if you like, if that's what you feel like your honor demands, but never think like that with me. With me, know I will always be willing and ready to help," She said, taking a step forward.
"Ah…” He said, ears reddening ever so slightly. Another silence followed. “I see my mistake now. I am sorry Inquisitor, I thought it would make you more comfortable but I see I’ve just made it worse. I will not continue.”
She smiled, “So we’re…friends again?” Ellana said, feeling a bit childish. It reminded her of something her keeper told her before she got the vallaslin. Ellana was worried she wasn’t mature enough for it, she said she still felt like a child. Her Keeper told her, ‘every adult is just a child who has responsibility and figured out how to hide their immaturity, you don’t truly outgrow that feeling until your children have children.’ She was still not sure if she was entirely correct, but she felt a bit of it’s truth in the current situation, like her and Cullen were just two children, who childishly assumed things about the other.
He smiled back, “Yes, I’d like that,” He said, with a bit of a sigh.
"Good. I have to leave for the Frostback basin soon I suppose, but when I get back, will you save a moment for a game of chess?"
He smiled and nodded once.
"I've gotten much better, you know, Dorian has been teaching me."
Cullen let out one humorless huff of a laugh, "Dorian may not be the best teacher, he sees cheating as just another part of the game."
"Well, we shall see if you can catch me," she said, smiling.
Cullen nodded, and turned around for the last time to leave.
Ellana sighed, pleased with herself. She was glad to have Cullen back.
The mission in the Frostback basin had disturbed Ellana, and Ameridan's fate held many troubling implications. Would the same thing happen to her, would no one remember she was an elven apostate, in love with another elven apostate? Would history eventually wash away all her "undesirable" characteristics, or forget how she had tried to fight for cooperation between all the different factions of the world? Or even how many different kinds of people she called friends. Would Cole and Dorian's contributions be forgotten, simply because they do not belong in a good Andrastian tale? If Tevinters and spirits could be good, what else could our moral and unquestionable chantry be wrong about?
She stood over her reflection in the washbasin of her room. Had she not started this procedure of identity erasure herself? Everyone who looked at her now would never know she was Dalish. A city elf circle mage, they'd assume. She traced the missing lines where her pride and identity used to be. A prayer to Mythal. Angrily she threw her hands into the water, bringing some up to wash her face.
Then she remembered what she had been thinking about before the mission. The advice her keeper told her about childishness. Did it have another aspect of truth the keeper did not intend? Was the vallaslin just the childish Dalish attempt to keep any bit of history they could keep their hands on? Just children grasping at a world wider than themselves that they would never understand, never fully reclaim?
Forget it, she thought, If the shemlen will not remember me, then my clan will at least, and they will pass my story on through their line.
She decided to take a walk through the castle. The garden was her favorite place. Picking the herbs she had planted there reminded her of home.
"Hello Inquisitor," said a cheery voice behind her. She turned to see Cullen standing there. Interestingly, sans armor. He was still wearing his gambeson, however, and his large cloak, but he looked strange to her. Quite a bit smaller in stature. Just as tall, but it gave a hint of a man underneath all the usual metal.
"Cullen," She greeted, holding a handful of embrium flowers, "you can call me Ellana, if you like. I think if you kill a would-be God together, you can do that."
"Right," he chuckled, "how was the Frostback Basin, I've just read the report, so I heard about Ameridan's true fate."
"Yes, he was a Dalish elf it seems," She said.
"You must be proud of your people, to have raised such a fearless and great man," he said, reverently.
"The elves of his time and mine are very different, but yes, I suppose it is gratifying to know that I am not the odd inquisitor out. It's strange that they keep making us Dalish apostates the leaders of their holy army."
Cullen laughed an uncomfortable laugh, "The chantry I know now and the chantry I thought that existed when I was a child are two completely different beasts, certainly."
"Oh Cullen!" She said, feigning shock, "that sounds almost like a denunciation!"
He laughed again, more hearty this time, "let's just say I am beginning to think I should worship the creator in my own way, without the guidance of an organization created by people."
"Well said," She gestured for us to walk the garden path, which we followed, "so, shall we have that game now?" She asked.
"Yes, where would you like us to play, I could bring my board down here if you like?"
She nodded and he told her to wait, so she handed her embrium off to a nearby idle agent and sat down at the table they had played at last time. Soon he was back, and the game began.
Ellana got off to a rough start, Cullen had been very aggressive with his pawns, and she had already lost a mage and both towers.
"You did learn quite a lot from Dorian."
"But it seems you're winning, Commander," Ellana said.
"Yes, but I am actually trying this time."
"What?!" Ellana said incredulously, "are you telling me that last time you let me win?"
He chuckled.
"Ah… yes. I felt it was inappropriate, or bad manners to beat you as badly as I could have. Nearly every round you gave me an opening to win the game," He said.
"You could beat me that badly, even if I was cheating?"
He laughed again, not answering.
A few minutes passed, and Ellana started to see what he meant. Cullen was still winning, but he was thinking hard about each move and every sacrifice.
She looked up after she had taken a mage to see the defeat on his face, but he looked like he was far away, staring at her face.
"If we're… being friends again Ellana, may I ask you a personal question?" He asked, breaking the relative silence of the game.
Ellana smiled involuntarily. There was something about the way her name sounded in Cullen's voice that had, Mysteriously, sent chills up her spine. Perhaps it was that she was almost never called by her actual name, so when anyone spoke it it felt like an incredibly private, indulgent gesture.
"Yes," she cautiously granted.
"Your.. facial markings-"
"The vallaslin," she provided, reaching to feel her face as her smile faded.
"Yes, What happened to them? Aren't they there to honor the Dalish gods?"
Ellana rubbed the skin, it has been rough before, scarred. Now her skin was smooth.
"Solas took them,” She finally said.
"Took them?"
"He told me they were slave markings in ancient times, that slave owners would mark their slaves with the vallaslin to honor their patron god."
"What? Can he know such a thing?"
"He said he learned It walking the fade. Dalish take an oath to never submit to slavery so I let him remove it."
"Oh. I am sorry, I thought the… the vallaslin was a mark of pride for young Dalish."
"It is. I realize now that it was wrong to let him take it. Whatever the mark meant in the past, it means something different now, and I should have honored my commitment to my clan and to Mythal. She was the goddess they were meant to honor."
"I see," he said.
Strangely, she felt like she could tell what he was thinking. The similarities between his lyrium and her vallaslin. The shedding of ties to their lives before the Inquisition. The difference was, she believed the Templar Order is evil at its core, but she still respected and loved her clan.
"By the way," he said, "I am… sorry about Solas." she looked up quickly, it was her turn to be scandalized, but he was looking down, moving a piece to take the knight she had used to kill his mage. It had been a trap.
"Have you been bottling these things up after you decided we shouldn't be friends?" Ellana asked. He looked away bashfully.
"I just, I mean I heard that you two had something… and I don't know the particulars but -Well I don't know where I'm going with this but I just suspect he did not treat you with the respect you deserve before he left."
Ellana chuckled weakly.
“What I deserve?” she asked, “Who am I but some Dalish girl who got involved in world events accidentally?” She said with a sardonic smile, “It’s just lucky I was good with a mage’s staff, wasn’t it? Solas didn’t owe me anything.” Ellana had maybe said too much, so she looked back at the board. The air around them was becoming incredibly awkward, She could tell Cullen wasn’t still quite sure what to do with this rediscovered friendship. Neither was she, for that matter.
“Inquisitor if I may…” He paused and took a gulp, “Ellana,” she looked up at him, and his eyes were soft, “Originally, at Haven, you were not our leader, you just happened to have the anchor. We were suspicious of you, wary that our only source of hope was some random Dalish keeper’s apprentice.”
“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?”
“But what I’m saying is, the role of Inquisitor was not thrust upon you, you stepped into it, long before we declared you so, you were. A leader, and an inspiration. After Haven we didn’t pick you just because you had the anchor, we picked you because you were already our leader.”
“Ah. Thank you Cullen.”
“The point I'm trying to make is that Solas did not appreciate how privileged he was to be your friend, more than your friend. To leave, like he did…” He stopped.
Now Cullen was the one making it awkward. There was a weird twinge in his voice when he said “more than your friend.” What he was saying sounded a lot like the average hero-worship she had heard too many times, But there was another part… a different emotion in there that she found herself latching onto.
“Hm… Well it was a little cruel," she admitted.
“Exactly.”
“Thank you Cullen, for your kindness and for.. Saying that. I do miss him, but it’s tempered by the anger at the way he left,” Ellana said, bringing her attention back to the board and trying to figure out her next move.
“You have every right to that anger. And, should you need someone to talk to about it… I know you have many friends here in Skyhold you may wish to confide in first, but just know I am now one of them again, alright?"
His smile was sweet and innocent. She smiled back, and nodded, before moving her queen across the board.
"Checkmate," she said, watching the sweetness in his eyes turn to confusion.
"What?!" He asked, looking down at the board, searching the pieces. Ellana let out a peel of hearty laughter.
"You cheated!" He pointed at the queen. "There's no way!"
"No, I think maybe your attention was elsewhere, Cullen." She laughed, and he joined in.
From then on, they were easy friends again. Before she joined the Inquisition, if someone had told her she would have been good friends with a former templar, one who had served under knight-commander Meredith, the notorious mage-hater who practically caused the mage rebellion at Kirkwall, she simply wouldn’t have believed them. She could imagine Solas's displeasure at her having such a fondness for him. The sour look on his face when she imagined it made her a little happy.
But such was life. People Ellana thought would always be her enemy could, in fact, be kind, dear even. Dorian had proved there was more to Tevinter than she thought, and Cassandra and Leliana showed her that there were some people in the chantry who wanted it to change. And Cullen showed her that some people who she would have considered evil were simply misguided and manipulated.
Still, there were moments when their difference of opinion showed how different they really were.
“Cullen, don’t you think armed guards in the mage tower would put a hamper on our good relations with the mages? They have been indispensable,” she said, picking a book off her shelf and turning to her desk.
“I know, and I approved when you first renovated the tower for the mages, but now they are playing with the pieces of Corypheus’s orb up there.”
She swung around quickly, “They are not playing with the orb,” she said with a bite in my tone, “They are studying it.” Ellana leaned against her desk, putting down her book. Cullen shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He had begun the conversation telling her he was worried about the security and wellbeing of the mages who worked in the tower and suggesting that, to protect them, they installed some sort of guard presence. Ellana accused him of just wanting to institute a self-ruled branch of the Templars and the discussion had devolved from there.
“With all due respect, Inquisitor, I don’t quite see the difference,” He said, his volume slowly increasing.
“No, I wouldn’t expect you to.” Ellana said with a huff.
Cullen sighed and turned around, thinking for a second and trying to cool down, Ellana guessed.
“Commander,” Ellana began, quieter, “try to see past your fear, and look at the context.”
“Context?” He turned back around, eyebrows up in annoyance, but obviously trying to contain it.
“Yes. For one, the mages and the military forces of the Inquisition currently are equals. They fight together, they fraternize, they are friends and partners. If you stick a guard in the mages tower to watch them while they work, those mages will see through you. You’ve now instituted a chain of command and all that loyalty evaporates."
“Also,” she continued, “This orb is from my people, the ancient elves. Maybe it doesn’t mean much to you, but I was my Keeper’s apprentice, and someday I hope to go back and fulfill my duty to my clan. That means gathering and protecting all sources of information on Elvhenan.”
“I see what you’re saying, but the study of the orb is dangerous. Can we not cease that instead of instituting a guard? Even ignoring the danger of opening another breach by messing with it, consider the power that knowledge of such an object could mean, and what if it fell into the hands of a blood mage?”
“Blood mages? Really, Cullen, you act like us mages constantly have an invisible pride demon on our shoulders telling us to go around slapping old ladies and overthrowing governments.”
“Don’t you? Are all mages not at risk of temptation?” His eyes went a little wide as he spoke.
“No! Are you constantly tempted to plunge your sword into every person you see, since you always have it on your belt?” Ellana’s voice had risen to an almost yell now.
“My sword cannot speak!” Cullen said, gesturing to the sword on his belt.
She took a deep breath in and turned to the balcony. His attitudes were not only annoying and narrow-minded, but they were also hurtful. This is what he truly thought of mages.
“Are you scared of me?” She asked, turning back to him. Her voice was quieter, but louder than she intended.
He tilted his head and, in a voice that conveyed true remorse said, “No, I don’t think of you like that.”
“How convenient,” Ellana said.
“What is?”
“That I am your friend and the exception to the rule.”
“It’s just that I know you have come across real demons and resisted them, time and time again,” He said, trying to explain.
Ellana paused for a moment, trying to figure out a way to make Cullen understand. Then she had an idea, but she knew he probably wouldn’t agree. She wanted to share a memory with him, one that had solidified her opinions on Templars and had a large impact on who she was. She knew that if she just told him what happened, it might have a slight effect, but nothing was as effective as actually experiencing it.
“Cullen, I want you to understand where I am coming from. I want to be friends, and I want to be able to show you what it’s like to be a mage, but it requires the use of a spell I think you might not like the idea of.”
He furrowed his brow and crossed his arms, “A spell?”
“Don’t worry, I am not going to attempt to possess you through blood magic,”
“I wasn’t expecting you to,” He said, confused.
“It’s a Elvhen spell. Passed down from ancient times. It’s not used very often anymore, in fact I don’t believe most Dalish mages still know it. In my clan it is used to convey intentions to the halla, or to share a moment with a lover.”
Cullen looked a little frightened.
“I know what you’re thinking,” She said, holding a hand up to stop him from becoming more anxious.
“I’m sure you do, that I’ve had mages in my head before and that it is not an experience I wish to repeat.”
“I understand that but really, I won’t be in your head, you’ll be in mine. I will not go into your memories or show you anything but the truth, my truth,” she said, trying to sound comforting.
“No, Inquisitor, I am going to have to respectfully decline,” He said, and she noticed a slight change. A wavering to his voice, and a slight flush on his ears. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea. What he had been through at the Circle Tower was enough to make a lesser man go permanently insane. Ellana thought maybe bringing it up was counter productive, and felt a twinge of regret.
“Ok. I understand,” she said.
“I urge you to consider what I have said about the orb,” He said quietly, “Now if you’ll excuse me I think I will take my leave.”
Ellana watched him go, and thought back to something Solas had once said to her. They were talking about Templars, and Ellana had expressed to him how awful she thought the treatment of Circle mages were, expecting him to agree with her, but he took a surprising view towards the templars. “You cannot seek to change the templars without understanding them first.” When she said she did understand them, that they simply wanted to control mages with fear, he sighed at her, like she was a petulant child and he was the patient instructor. It had annoyed her.
What did he see in the templars that she did not? Maybe he meant their stated intentions: to protect mages from themselves and everyone else from mages. But Ellana knew that while that was their stated intentions, the institution had grown to what it was by the time the mage rebellions started because they feared the mages. Fear and hate. And maybe a seed of that ideology still sat in Cullen.
Sighing, she sat down at her desk to read the book she had pulled from the shelf.