The harsh cold of the Emprise du Lion cut through them, and in an instant, Evelyn cast a barrier around the two of them as they came to. Ishmael was already having a fit of violence after being thwarted, battering her shield with vile energy. His voice hissed in foul curses in dead ancient tongues, but she ignored it for the sake of the man holding onto her for dear life.
Evelyn tightly hugged his head to her chest, covering his ears and sight. She could hold Ishmael off while he took a moment, as she knew by his grip and ragged breathing this was his living hell. She knew it was bad when he was even ignoring the pain she was most certainly causing him with his mana sensitivity just to seek comfort. At the first sign of her barrier weakening, it was only a matter of time before it failed entirely. "Cullen," she slowly brought his head up, her voice urgent, "I need you to fight!" His eyes honed in on her with an unmatched focus, cutting through the chaos of his mind. "I cannot defeat Ishmael alone, I need you!"
At that, his body stilled as he regained control of his limbs. The Commander bent at the knee to retrieve their helmets that had been cast aside. Pushing hers into her hands while placing his on his head, she could see by his expression that Cullen was back; he was ready for a fight. His brow had drawn down into a cold, fierce determination; his top scarred lip was just barely perked up in a snarl; and he stood tall, lightly testing the weight of his armor and weapons as if calibrating himself to their weight.
The sudden flash of her barrier having failed blinded them, and when their vision returned, they were surrounded by pawns of the demon’s likeness. Evelyn's magic was flickering at her fingertips ready for any one of them to be so foolish as to come closer. Instinctively turning back to back, she could feel Cullen's every shift of his armor trying to anticipate the enemy's moves as the Ishmaels before them taunted and looked for an opening in their defenses.
"Hold steady, we let them come to us. I’ll protect your right and you protect mine," the Commander imparted to her. Relief flooded her that his mind too was in the fight.
"Right. I got your back." With a whirl of her hand, a ring of fire surrounded them, pushing back the enemy. The Phoenix poured an immense amount of mana into the flames making them lash out at the demons.
"Too much, Eve!" Cullen growled. Remembering she couldn't use that much magic beside him without hindering him, she dispelled the flames.
A new tactic was needed, "I guess we're doing this the hard way." Her Spirit Blade blazed forth, "Do you think you can Cleanse?" If he could, they could start weeding out the doppelgangers from the real demon.
"I was just thinking that. Hold them off, it's been a while." Cullen began gathering his strength, a void of magicless pulling at her from behind. It was still so strange to see him use his former abilities.
Knowing what was coming, the demons lunged at them as she slashed with her blade and swept the area around them with bursts of thick flames. "A little quicker please, Cullen!"
With a sweep of his shield, his power was unleashed banishing the fake demons, leaving one standing before him. The unnatural speed in which Ishmael jumped Cullen was dizzying, over before a blink of an eye. The demon pressed his hand to his forehead growling as the blonde Ferelden grappled with him from the ground. Green and black ethereal light emitted from his hand, and it was then she realized Ishmael was trying to enter his mind to take control like Envy had done to her back at Therinfal.
The Commander's arms were shaking trying to hold the demon back, chanting prayers through his gritted teeth. "There is a new god who will command the realm, Commander. One with the power to grant your every wish, if you'd just submit to me!" The creature growled and hissed in his wicked human voice, "You will lead his armies and be rewarded. I've shown you this. No more pain from lyrium withdrawal; all your painful memories lost to the Void; and you can even be with the woman you love." Evelyn froze in horror. "Isn't that what you want? To live in peace with her? So long as she surrenders the anchor to my master, all is forgiven. She will be yours forever and you won't have to hide it like a shameful secret." She knew well the allure of the promises demons used to lure people like sirens to their demise. Their words affected people differently, sounding all the sweeter from their immortal tongues.
The Inquisitor took a step forward, but not before being hit back by a force equivalent to a hard punch to the face. She spat out the blood from the cut within her mouth, "Don't listen to his lies! You know he'll pump you full of red lyrium! He has also shown you that!"
Like a feral bear, Ishmael bared his teeth at her for her interference. "A small price to pay to erase all memory of what happened in Kinloch and Kirkwall. You won't be broken anymore. You could go back to your family whole, and unashamed." The fight Cullen was putting up began to lessen to her dismay.
"You are not broken! Do not listen to this demon's filth--" Evelyn cried out in pain as he struck her again with an unseen hand. Sprawled on her stomach, Ishmael held a hand out to her holding her against the cold stony ground with his magic. She grits out, "Resist him, Cullen!" Flame cloaked her as she brought her mana forth with a vengeance to fight against the demonic force pressing on her. She was breaking his hold on her slowly, pushing up from the cold stone with her hands.
Ishmael gripped Cullen's chin turning it over to face her, "She really is a rare woman. I think you know as well as I do, that she deserves better than having to deal with all your flaws. You don’t want to be a burden, do you? I can make you one worthy of her affection. You can be happy and proud. Let's not forget that artful letter you wrote to her father. You, a commoner, want to be worthy in his eyes as well, don't you?"
"You fucking bastard! You'll never have the anchor!"
The demon ignored her, "All you have to do, Cullen, is let me in. That's not so bad, is it? She'll come around, you're her one weakness after all. If anyone can get the anchor, it is you. We know it's true." A shiver pricked down her spine at the way he said 'we.' Who was we? The two of them? The three of them? Corypheus? Maker forbid...
"No!" Evelyn pleaded with her love, "You're stronger than this trickster, do not give in! He speaks only lies, you know this! Cullen, please!"
"See, if I do this..." Ishmael conjured a flame and pressed it to the pauldron on his scarred shoulder where the blood mage back at Kinloch had burned him. His voice grew darker, "… watch how she squirms." Cullen tried to fight the terror, she could see him squeezing his eyes shut and biting his tongue. Panic and fire pumped through her veins knowing exactly what this demon could trigger within the former Templar. "I said look at her!" Ishmael jerked Cullen's head up with a fistful of his hair.
"Stop it!" She sobbed, "I'll..." Evelyn stopped herself realizing it was all true. She'd throw away everything for him, but not at the cost of the world; the same world that would end with him in it should she give up the anchor. A bottomless pit opened in her gut at the thought of losing him and this new revelation. Duty had to come first, it had to. Learning this lesson from a creature such as Ishmael enraged her beyond reason. "… I'll kill you!"
With great speed, she fade-stepped but her mana was running so hot, she morphed into an ethereal mass of fire. Evelyn whirled around the Commander, causing Ishmael to back off, but he somehow grabbed her essence out of its spectral form. The demon had her by the throat, lifting her toes from off the ground. His grip was so fierce the sudden loss of air from her lungs was too much for her limbs to fend him off properly.
"You will not interfere any longer, Phoenix! He's mine, he's already considering my offer." Ishmael growled and his form flickered between his hideous demonic self and the façade of a man. "The Commander will belong to Corypheus, and I will be the one to deliver--"
His words were cut off by a blade to where a mortal's heart would reside. She could feel the cold steel under her arm, as Cullen had stabbed around her with unmatched precision. His shieldless arm gripped her around the waist as he twisted the blade forcing the demon to drop her. Delivered from the grasp of the demon, she gasped for breath falling back against the Commander's chest. He immediately turned her away from Ishmael, still holding her tight to his side.
"Together," he intoned with renewed strength.
Holding herself up using his armor, her right hand wrapped around his back and the other reached for his sword. Turning their gazes on the demon, they pulled it out, watching the black bile pool on the gritty stone. With Cullen's sword before them, Evelyn cast her fire upon it. The molten flame snaked its way up, coating his blade before she let go of it, not willing to hinder Cullen's dominant arm. Without hesitating a moment longer, the Commander raised his arm out to the side and severed its head from the body. An otherworldly scream erupted, but faded quickly, signaling Ishmael's departure for the Eternal Void.
Dropping his sword, their arms embraced each other tightly. Evelyn grabbed on to his mantle fearing someone would tear her from him again. Fuck their secret and fuck having to pretend she didn't love him with every fiber of her being. Her hands found his face, traveling from his forehead down to cup his chiseled jawline, "Are you alright?!"
"I think so," she could see he was breathing a bit heavily. His eyes flicked about as if taking stock of his mind making sure all was as it should be. When they came back to rest on her, she pulled him against her lips instantly regretting it. The unbalance in their energies made it painful. He winced and groaned, yet didn't pull away, and neither did she, feeling her shoulders muscles tense. They pushed away gasping, feeling the coiling of unsated desire continuing to tighten. "Maker, I cannot wait to leave this bloody place. Red lyrium, demons, and not being able to… simply touch you."
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"Me too." She sat back away from him on the ground, massaging her jaw in an attempt to make it relax. The remains of the demon had melted into a puddle of black bile beside them, reeking of death.
"Thank the Maker!" They turned to see Cassandra and Sorin running through the archway and over to them. With Ishmael dead, the barrier dissipated into nothing. "Are you two hurt?!"
Sorin knelt next to her with a perplexed look, "We saw you fighting each other. What happened?"
Evelyn sighed heavily, "Ishmael was recruiting for Corypheus. He wanted Cullen and had us trapped in a waking dream." She looked over at Cullen, the same expression of exasperation on his face. “We’ll tell you about it back at camp.” Cassandra was next to him, trying to help him up, but he waved her off unwanting of the assistance.
"Samson, what of him? What of the battle?" Cullen's question brought a sense of urgency back to the other matter at hand.
"Our soldiers were outmatched, but their training saw them through." The Seeker clasped a congratulatory hand on the Commander's shoulder. "We won the battle and captured Samson. He had nowhere to go after we got the upper hand."
"Where is he now?" The Inquisitor's tone darkened and she stood.
"In a cage like one of his creatures awaiting your word, Inquisitor."
Wasting no time, the group headed for where they were holding Corypheus' General. Upon seeing him sitting comfortably, and not at all like a man who just lost his army, Evelyn frowned. When he spied her approaching, his crooked grin spread across his face. He was hardly bloodied as she examined him, and he had an odd set of armor on, sporting a rather large and pointed crystal of red lyrium in the center of the chest. His eyes glowed red as Cullen's had in the nightmare they had just come from.
"Inquisitor," she said coyly, "how's the leg?"
Without skipping a beat, she embraced her haughtiness, "Well enough to shove up your arse, thanks for asking." Samson chuckled, biting back a smile. "As a former Templar, I would've thought you knew better than to strike a deal with a demon such as Ishmael."
Cullen chimed in, "One who so readily abandoned you and your army for its own ambition." He shook his head scowling at his fallen brother. "You've surrendered yourself, I assume?"
"Didn't have much of a choice when our battle plan went to the bloody Void once Ishmael disappeared. Where is that blighted demon anyway?"
"Dead," Evelyn answered definitively, crossing her arms. She swiveled her head to Korbin, who was watching their caged guest, "And where is the rest of the Red Templar force?"
"Eatin' dirt and nug-shit, Inquisitor." The dwarf spat at the ground.
"Very good. Commander, Seeker, a word," and with that the three walked a few paces away. "Recommendations on what to do with him? You think he'll talk?"
Cullen nodded his head, "If given the chance Samson will talk. His desire for self-preservation and lyrium usually outweighs all else."
Evelyn cocked an eyebrow up at him, “I’m not sure he’s in want of lyrium with that crystal attached to him.”
"If he indeed has valuable information worth sharing, we should take him to Leliana. Let her deal with him." She was inclined to agree with Cassandra on that point.
"No," Cullen looked between the two intensely, "put him in my custody. I'll be able to get you the answers you want. Sister Nightingale's methods will not work on him and he may then decide he's unwilling to share information about this 'Vessel' and Calpurnia that we need badly." Studying his amber eyes, his will was set on this matter. She trusted Cullen not to botch an interrogation due to vengeance. He had a tight grip on his emotions, as she well knew, and above all else, his duty came before personal vendettas.
"Very well. The prisoner will be placed in your care. Let Dagna take a look at that armor of his. I'll send word to Leliana explaining my decision on it. Anything else, the Commander and I missed?"
The Seeker shook her head, "No, though we did have casualties being taken by surprise. I’ve already sent for the mages from camp for the wounded. We have yet to hear back from Solas and Blackwall on their findings about the experimentation Samson was conducting, but it might be irrelevant with the General here."
The Inquisitor turned around and walked back over with them to their sole prisoner. "Provided he wants to talk in exchange for his life?"
Samson scoffed, "I would've thought Rutherford could answer that question for you."
The Ferelden's brow drew down, "Cooperate and you'll live. Step out of line once Raleigh, and I will end your miserable life."
Evelyn shot him a scolding glare, before addressing Corypheus' General, "You will be under the Commander's care. I would caution you from angering him or any of our loyal Templars."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Inquisitor."
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"How are you feeling?" Cullen turned to see Evelyn ducking into his tent. Her wrist had been healed from the cut he had scored there in the waking dream, though she looked a bit pale most likely from having gotten sick again.
"I'm starting to feel the onset of withdrawal symptoms. With the mine destroyed and the soldiers now hacking down what red lyrium crystals they can find in the area, I fear I can no longer Silence you."
She held a shaky hand up, "I'll be fine, I feel slightly less... volatile. I was more concerned with you."
"I knew this was coming, so I’m doing everything I can to prepare us to leave as soon as possible." He rubbed his forehead before combing his fingers through his hair, "The Lady Ambassador knows a local Baron who will be arriving tomorrow and he will see to the readying of the fort. I... will not be unable to perform my duties in the days to come, so I'll give command over to Captain Dane as we head back to Skyhold. Scout Harding and her scouts are set to leave tomorrow to make sure the route is secure."
As he spoke, his love's face was twisting into deep concern. The dark bags under her eyes spoke of her hardship through the past month of being in this frozen place. "And... how will you be getting back to Skyhold?"
"On horseback preferably, but," he sighed heavily, "I've had a wagon converted into a rough carriage with a palette for me to rest in. I don't want our soldiers seeing me like... that, but neither can I remain here."
She swallowed hard and nodded her head, the worry etched on her face, "That’s a good idea. I'm going to send Miri with you. I need to stay and close the remaining rifts. With any luck, I won't be far behind you and will catch up with the others." With everything going on, he had forgotten about the rifts.
“Maker, Eve you can’t stay here much longer either!”
“I know, I know, but neither can I leave the rifts to spew demons as the town recovers. It’s my duty.” The word weighed heavily on her. She needed rest as much as he did, though she’d never admit it. He sighed heavily leaning back on his desk chair in understanding, but he was seriously starting to worry about the toll her duty was taking on her. With all that she had been through, it was more than what most people survive in a dozen lifetimes. Her voice broke through his thoughts, "You promise you'll be alright? I'll waste no time and join you as soon as I can. I don’t like leaving you knowing what will happen to you."
"I'll be fine, Eve."
And he was fine for a day or so into the journey back home, until two days in his body failed him. Evelyn had sent Owayne, Cassandra, and Miriam ahead with him, so when he woke up in his field tent that morning unable to move, he was fortunate that the Inquisitor had them checking on him like the invalid he was.
“Stop styling your hair and–” Owayne popped his head in, finding Cullen’s pallid and sluggish form slumped over the side of his cot. “Shit! It’s happening, stay calm! Evie will kill me if you die on us.”
“I’m not going to–” The rogue was already gone, “–die. I hope.”
In a moment, his three guardians were inside the tent hovering over him. His half-lidded eyes focused on the mage kneeling beside him waving her hands about. Miriam and Cassandra were comparing what they were sensing, but he knew despite their academic efforts, he needed to be slugged into the wagon he had prepared and simply wait it out. After coming to the same conclusion on their own, Owayne helped him discreetly into the wagon with the Enchanter, while the Seeker went to inform Dane he was leading the column home.
Two more days later as they passed the halfway point in their journey, the Inquisitor and her party arrived. "Cullen? How are you feeling, love?" Evelyn had vaulted up into his private “sick room” so suddenly, he thought he was dreaming. He didn’t answer her, knowing with one look she’d be able to see as his companions imparted to him frequently. Cullen’s eyes were sunken with dark circles under them. His skin was pale, missing its usual rosy undertone. His hair was slightly messy from tossing and turning, as evident by his blankets.
He tried to sit up, grumbling the whole time. "Could be worse." She gave him a pointed look telling him she didn't buy it. She at least looked better having left that Maker forsaken place. Evelyn poked her head out to yell something at her brother, who he could hear cursing right back at her as she caught up to the slow wagon. The bright light from outside blinded him to what she was doing, but after hearing Owanye’s heavy footfalls cease, he blinked over at her again. In her arms, she held a thick wool blanket with something moving within it. "Eve? What is that?"
"I've brought you something," it seemed she couldn't help the bright grin spreading on her face. "We found them amongst Samson's experiments." She hushed the two squirming bundles in her arms. They whimpered and cried, and he found himself craning his head up more to see what she was bringing him. "Hold your arms out."
He obeyed without a second thought, anticipation building of what the surprise was. When she plopped them into his grasp, unable to hold them any longer, he couldn't help the warmth spreading through him as he untangled them from the blanket.
"Mabari pups?"
She nodded though with a sad smile, "They are the only ones who've survived, and they still aren't out of the woods yet. Their mother was given copious amounts of red lyrium which killed her. Their siblings didn't make it, they died from lyrium withdrawal."
It shouldn't have affected him so deeply, but gazing down on the few week-old pups suffering from a substance they had no right being given brought on a profound sorrow. Their eyes were bloodshot, and from the way she had wrapped them, it was clear the daylight had been hurting them as well. He petted one’s head with a few fingers, but it yelped at the light pressure. There were bald patches in their coarse fur, displaying the baby-pink skin underneath. Both pups were males - brothers - one with rich brown fur and the other with a sleek gray coat.
“Careful, they are in a lot of pain.” Evelyn watched him uneasily as he observed the poor little things writhe in his arms. They were about the size of newborns - large newborns - so he was struggling in his weakened state to hold them. She was clearly taken with the pups, but it was hard not to seeing them suffer as he was. He absently wondered if she saw him the same way.
“Have they imprinted on you?”
She smiled, “No, they are unable to do much of anything right now, as I’ve been told. I was hoping you all could comfort each other. You know better than anyone what they are going through. I believe their best chance is with you.”
“Thank you, Eve.” Cradling the Mabaris in his lap, he freed an arm and reached for her. Hesitantly, her palm met his, and when no pain pricked him - or if it did he didn’t feel it over his current discomfort - their fingers intertwined.
Evelyn sighed with relief, “Rest now, my lion. I’ll be close by.”
Releasing him and heading for the back of the wagon, he spoke quietly, “After I get them some water.” Reaching for the pitcher beside him, he began pouring some into a cup, seeing Evelyn had stopped to smile fondly back at him before hopping out the back. Holding the two pups up so they could drink, he looked once more at where she had been. A small smile of his own relaxed his facial muscles as he thought that even when he was feeling his absolute worst, how Evelyn had found a way to give him clarity of mind. He didn’t need her to watch him with pity or sit for hours by his side wasting precious time when she could be battling the Elder One. No, she knew this; this is why Ishmael’s plan was doomed to fail.
With his mind busily trying to come up with a course of recovery for them, his pain dulled. Every fiber in his being wanted these pups to live regardless if they imprinted on him or not. Having had their fill, the two looked up at him, able now to see who cared for them out of the painful daylight. Their brown eyes studied him with their innate intelligence, and he knew they knew they were all suffering. Sitting unsteadily, waiting for direction, he nodded to them resolutely. Coaxing them down onto the blankets with him, Cullen knew then that either they would all perish or survive together - and they knew it too.