Chapter Text
Cullen was the only one among them to keep his cool when a red blast tore apart the sky.
"Isn't that exactly where the synod is?" asked Leliana. She got up and walked away from the fire.
"It would seem so." Cassandra gazed at the sky, looking to stars for confirmation, but the night was dark and cloudy. "It is hard to say. What else could it be, though? There is nothing but mountains there."
"The Most Holy," whispered Leliana. "What if it's Kirkwall all over again?"
That question was all it took for Cassandra to be reminded of the horrifying image of what was left of the Grand Cathedral. Judging by Cullen's face, suddenly paper white, his thoughts went in the same direction.
"We should go," she said, picking her saddle up from the ground. "We can get there before dawn if we―"
"I don't think it's a good idea," said Cullen. Cassandra glared at him, unaccustomed to being opposed. "Everyone is tired, it's dark and the terrain doesn't get any easier. Haven is probably half buried in snow by now."
Cassandra braced her hands on her hips. "What if something did happen there?" she asked, as Cullen shifted from one foot to the other. "We cannot just stay here."
"Even if something did happen, we will not be able to get there before dawn. And believe me, these parts are not easy to travel through even by day. I would know, I was born in these mountains."
"I stand by Curly here," said the dwarf suddenly, almost invisible beneath all the blankets and saddle-cloths. "Strange as it may seem, I really do. I didn't live through all this shit only to die in Ferelden now!"
"No one asked you," snapped Cassandra. "Leliana?"
Leliana wrapped her arms around herself. "I am inclined to agree with Cullen. We don't know the terrain half as well as he does. And if something has already happened..."
Cassandra let go of the saddle and sat back down by the fire. She was so fixated on getting to the synod and finally closing that part of her journey, she could barely stand to think that something could go wrong. Suddenly she found herself thinking of Regalyan.
"Seeker," said the Commander, taking a seat next to her. It was getting darker with every minute and the shadows made him look like a lump of fur topped with a mop of fair curls, very Fereldan. "We shouldn't worry in advance."
Cassandra's first reaction was to snap back at him, but before she did, she realised that his only intention was not to reprimand her, but to cheer her up, so she resigned herself to a nod.
She stood watch almost through the whole night, with a short break for a nap, her arms wrapped tight around herself, head hanging low. When she woke up, just before dawn, the pillar of fire gave way to an ominous, green aurora. They hit the road soon after dawn, only to finally find out that Cullen was right about both the terrain and the snow. They didn't reach Haven until evening.
"Hold!" The guards, clad in Chantry colours, stepped forward to meet them. "Who's coming?"
Cassandra loosened the snow-covered scarf she had wrapped around her face. "What happened here?" she asked. "We have been on the road for a week with no news, report, now!"
"The Temple is in ruins and almost everyone who attended is dead, my lady! No one know what's really happened, the messengers have been sent out but—"
Leliana's face was paper white. "Almost everyone?" she repeated.
"Yes, sister. Only one person has been found alive so far. A mage."
Leliana turned her head away and suddenly Cassandra could feel everyone's gaze focusing on her. She clenched her teeth, because she felt her face changing. "Take us there," she said.
The village called Haven was quite small. As it often was in such places, the biggest building was the chantry, in front of which most of the newly arrived had already set camp. The people – villagers, mostly, and some Chantry forces and sutlers – all turned their heads to them, their faces full of hope. The crowd, however, was devoid of templars, Chantry mothers and sisters, and even mages, as most of them were supposed to be in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, attending the peace talks.
The chantry was where the guardsman led them. He pushed the door open, revealing an ascetic, murky interior. A few people in Chantry frocks were already inside and tried to greet them, but Cassandra didn't pay them any attention, instead heading straight for the stairs the guardsman pointed at. Leliana was at her heels.
The holding cells were even murkier, the ceiling low. In one of them, Trevelyan lay on a straw mattress.
Cassandra stopped mid-step, her mouth wide open from shock.
"You know her?" asked Leliana, clearly astounded.
"I do." Cassandra took a step forward to make sure she wasn't just seeing things. "It's baroness... Trevelyan. From Ostwick. I..."
"That Trevelyan?" reiterated Leliana, incredulous.
Cassandra ignored her, taking a step further.
When, if at all, she thought of Trevelyan – however rarely and reluctantly – what came to mind was the soft-faced girl she had first met in the Free Marches. Now, before her lay a definitely grown woman, dressed in a light hauberk that could often be seen on mages nowadays. She was tanned, her features sharp - both telltale signs that she had been spending most of her time outdoors, worrying more often than smiling. Her hair was braided and longer than Cassandra remembered. A dash of grey could be seen at her temple.
"Is she even breathing?" Leliana sounded worried.
"She's in a deep sleep," came a gentle, soft voice, and soon the speaker emerged from one of the dark corners of the cell. He was leaning on a staff. "One that serves the purpose of regeneration and as such shouldn't be disturbed."
"And you are?" Cassandra touched the hilt of her sword. The man, who turned out to be an elf, raised his hands in a universal sign of peaceful intentions. "What is your business here?"
"My name is Solas. I study the Fade and when I... heard about what happened, I immediately rushed here. My intention is to help."
"You're an apostate."
"Every mage is an apostate now, Cassandra," said Leliana. "Could you tell us anything about what has happened here?"
"It is a tear in the Veil, a very formidable one and probably created on purpose," the man explained, his eyes never leaving Trevelyan. "At least now we know the name of our sole survivor."
"It's a surname," said Cassandra. "She does not go by her name. Only a surname."
What followed was an awkward silence. They could hear Leliana's footsteps perfectly as she approached the mattress and kneeled next to Trevelyan, whose left hand suddenly began glowing with a green light, resembling that looming over the ruins of the Temple. Trevelyan winced and frowned, as if she was in pain. The elf reacted immediately by crouching down next to her and putting a hand to her forehead. With the light gone, Trevelyan sighed, but didn't wake up.
Leliana and the elf engaged in a discussion regarding breaches, holes and mysterious lights, but Cassandra found it difficult to keep up with the conversation. She tasted bile in her mouth and had to step away. Leaning on the bars, she tried to take deep breaths to calm herself down.
"Who's in charge now?" she asked, when they were on their way out of the holding cells.
"We are... I suppose. There is a chancellor in Redcliffe we could send for. Unless someone has already."
"Good idea. The people need to see for themselves that this is not the end of the Chantry."
After a moment she realised that Leliana wasn't at her side anymore. She turned around and went back to where she was standing.
Leliana looked her right in the eye. It was difficult to keep still under her gaze. "Cassandra," she said. "It is not the end. We need to remember that."
"Well, of course." Cassandra nodded, hooking her fingers over her sword belt. "What if it is Kirkwall all over again, though? What is it's the work of the Apostate, but on a bigger scale this time?"
"Why is that? Because both times there were explosions? I do not think so... In Kirkwall they used saltpetre to create the bomb, and this one seems more... magical." She stopped and tilted her head to the side. "Unless you know something?"
"Trevelyan... she was captured in Cumberland for trying to help a certain man escape," she said, not without difficulty. "A man who later became known as the Apostate."
"And you think it's connected?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen her for thirteen years." She rubbed her forehead. "I apologise for not telling you about this sooner. I didn't think it would be relevant."
Leliana shifted from one foot to another, giving it some thought. As her work here was done, Cassandra wanted to leave, but when she turned she felt the touch of soft leather on her wrist. Leliana gave her hand a soft squeeze. "Remember what I told you," she said.
"I will. We should confer after the second bell."
Cassandra found Cullen in one of their bigger tents, busy trying to come up with a way to strengthen the encampment. "What's the situation, Commander?" she asked.
"Sadly, not good," he said, raising his head from the map he was currently studying. "The scouts report the presence of demons in the area. They say it could be an effect of the explosion and the lights."
"As if we haven't had enough to deal with," Cassandra said, leaning heavily on the table. "We certainly needed demons. Do we have people to fight them?"
"Something could be arranged. There are some brothers and sisters, as well as some other Chantry forces. A few magnates brought their own units to the synod and some of them are still here. The squires and sutlers could be provided with weapons, we could have them join the Chantry brothers... Morale has improved slightly since our arrival," said Cullen and scratched his neck. "Unfortunately it also means that the people await orders and moral support."
"I could use some of that support myself right now," murmured Cassandra under her breath. "Is there a position that should be strengthened, Commander? It would boost the people's spirits and send a clear signal that we are not afraid."
"A front camp would be useful, a first line of defence if you will, should something come down from the mountains." Cullen pointed to a spot on the map with a bridge stretching across the valley. "Here, for example."
"Very well. Let us gather five volunteers with torches and move."
Cullen reappeared after a while with templar recruits, while Cassandra was joined by the forces of Revered Mother Joanna from Cumberland. The wind was ice cold and kept blowing relentlessly; nothing, not even a suit of armour, stood in its way. Despite her best intentions to hide it, Cassandra's teeth were chattering and Cullen must have noticed it, because he doubled back to the tent and came back with a proper woollen coat.
The ascent was difficult – it had been snowing earlier that day, and when they weren't getting stuck in the fresh snow, they were instead slipping on the smooth surface of the path already trampled down by the members of the synod. The torches didn't do much to illuminate the eerie dusk that settled over the valley right below the greenish aurora of the Veil torn asunder. They stumbled upon some wraiths once they reached the frozen surface of the lake; the fight was fairly easy, but the higher they got, the more demons appeared. To make matters worse, the guardsmen claimed that they kept on coming – try as they might to kill them all, more and more emerged from numerous rifts.
The volunteers stayed back in the fortress by the bridge, set on fortifying their position, while Cassandra and Cullen began their descent back to the camp, the sound of howling wind following them all the way down. A few shades came at them at the base of the hill – Cassandra actually took pleasure in pummelling them with her sword, so concentrated on the physical effort it took that she managed to forget for a while about the Divine, Trevelyan and everything that had happened. Cullen held the line behind her; what he lacked in finesse, he made up in endurance and confidence.
Once back in the camp, she met with Leliana as promised, but nothing came out of it. For a while she walked around the dormant camp and finally retired to her tent, where the Commander was already snoring, fast asleep. She lay down on the bedding next to him but found it hard to fall asleep, thinking instead of the last summer she spent at home, of the green park and the vineyard, the lake surrounded by trees, the warm nights and all those things she and Trevelyan were doing together back then. She remembered when she kissed her hand under the plane tree as if it had been yesterday; everything that happened afterwards did not really cast any shadows on what had transpired between them at that time.
When she was just about to immerse herself in that last night they spent together in Cumberland, Cullen moaned loud enough for Cassandra to cast him a glance over her shoulder. By now she had noticed that the Commander suffered from afflictions caused by what had happened to him in Kinloch and in Kirkwall, but they seemed to be getting even worse in the vicinity of the Temple. In the faint light of the fire she could see the wetness on his cheeks, and the trembling of his shoulders. He kept murmuring something under his uneven breath. She felt sorry for him, so she rolled over and touched his elbow gently. "It's just a dream, Co... Cullen. It will go away soon and everything will be alright."
Cullen gasped and felt around blindly with his arm, finally pressing Cassandra tight against his back. She fought against his hold for a while, but relented when she noticed that his breathing went back to normal. He was very warm, too, a quality she welcomed with open arms in the cold tent they shared. It's been a very long time since she had the occasion to huddle with someone.
The next morning Cullen kept grunting and rubbing his neck, clearly embarrassed, but all it took was one cool glare from Cassandra to calm him down. It looked like Leliana hadn't slept at all, so Cassandra just grabbed a big bowl of soup and some dried Orlesian sausages and went out to look for her. The morning was bright and cool, and the fresh mountain air made it almost painful to breathe.
Leliana bumped into her at the door, almost causing Cassandra to drop both the bowl and the sausages.
"Cassandra, she's awake! We can question her!"
Cassandra pushed her food into the hands of the closest guardsman and immediately headed for the holding cells. After a few steps and some thought she adjusted her sword belt, patted down her hair and slowed down her step to the confident gait she always used in the presence of arrogant templars.
Leliana caught up with her, her chainmail clanking. "One more thing," she said. "Promise me you will remain calm."
"Of course," said Cassandra through clenched teeth and pushed the door open with her elbow. Trevelyan, pilloried, was kneeling outside of her cell. Upon seeing Cassandra she leant forward, shocked. "C—Cassandra?"
"It's 'Seeker' now," said Cassandra, her hand coming to rest on the hilt of her sword in a meaningful gesture. She walked around Trevelyan, stopping behind her back, and bent down to her ear, breathing in the smell of healing herbs. "Tell me why we shouldn't kill you right now. The synod is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for... you."
Trevelyan gasped. "What do you mean, everyone? I know nothing about this!"
Cassandra grabbed her wrist. "Explain this."
Trevelyan's hand glowed with green light, but what burned Cassandra was a perfectly normal flame. She took a step back and shook off her hand, which was currently giving off smoke.
"Touch me like this again," said Trevelyan coldly, "and the next thing on fire won't be only your glove. I'll repeat – I don't know what that mark is, nor how I got it. I don't remember anything from the moment I arrived late—"
Cassandra moved to grab her by the collar, but Leliana stopped her. "You promised," she said, lowering Cassandra’s arms slowly. "We're here for information. Important information."
Trevelyan adopted an apologetic expression. "Cassandra," she said, her voice gentler this time. "Unchain me and let's just talk. I'll tell you everything I know. For the sake of what we once had..."
Cassandra turned her head away, feeling her willpower slowly slipping away.
"You're the Right Hand of the Divine now, aren't you?" continued Trevelyan. "It seems you have come far."
"As have you, lady Trevelyan," said Leliana. "To become First Enchanter at such young age is no small feat."
"It got much easier when mages started dying."
"Which allowed the leaders of Libertarian fractions, such as yours, to rise in the ranks."
"That was the only possible decision. What with us being Libertarians."
Leliana continued, "You are also the sole heir to the Ostwick barony, my lady."
"So I am... It happens when your whole family is killed off," said Trevelyan bitterly. "Would you like to know how my parents and sister died, Cassandra? It was templar deserters, as it turned out, who murdered them. They were convinced they had finally found one of the Libertarian leaders. They mistook Adolphine for me, would you believe that?"
Cassandra didn't even raise her gaze. "The only thing we want to know is what happened here," she said. "You are the sole survivor."
"I don't know! I can't explain that! As I said, we were late because of the thick snow in the mountain pass... And then something was chasing me and I was running... there was a woman there. She reached out her hand. I don’t know her, or that bald guy, I don't even know this redheaded lady!" Trevelyan raised her chained hands in a gesture of frustration. "Unchain me and I swear, I'll do everything I can to help you."
"It would be best to show her," said Cassandra, turning to Leliana. "The Breach."
Leliana put her hands behind her back and tilted her head to the side. "Are you sure you are up for this? We can send Cullen, he also has the proper training."
"There's no need. I'll take care of that."
"Very well." Leliana sent her a warning glance. "We'll meet in the front camp."
With Leliana gone, Cassandra kneeled down next to Trevelyan, her skin covered with goose bumps caused by the proximity of magic. She glanced at Trevelyan's face as stealthily as she could, noticing that one of her brows lost its gentle shape in favour of a faded scar, the remains of a wound dealt with a sharp instrument. Cassandra unchained her and outstretched a hand in a helpful gesture, which Trevelyan made a point of ignoring.
It would probably be easier to accept that she was a different person than thirteen years ago, if not for the hair she threw back just like the old Trevelyan used to.
"Shall we?" asked Trevelyan, blissfully unaware of Cassandra's quandaries.
Cassandra snapped out of it. "We shall," she said and pointed at the door courteously. "After you, my lady."