Amidst the Shadows Ch. 03

'This is a shield.' yelled Cullen 'It's not for decoration, it's not for balancing your sword's weight. It's not for eating your dinner off at night in the barracks when you're in need of a table and there's none to be had.'. Murmured chuckles sounded around the yard before growing quiet once more as the Commander continued 'It can however defend you, and it can attack your enemies. If you have a shield in your hand, use it.'

The new recruits were gathered around Commander Cullen in the courtyard of Skyhold that midday, the warm sun beating upon their fresh steel as they listened attentively. Like fresh ducklings in the wild, they stood together wide eyed, uncertain yet curious, and somewhat alert as the Commander addressed them. They varied from bright youths barely reaching fifteen to those late in their years and well rough around the edges. It mattered not however, for the Inquisition did not discriminate when it came to fighting their cause.

Armed and ready, Cullen pointed his sword towards a black hair man in his early twenties that stood at the front of the group. 'You there, what is your name?'

'Kieran, sir.' mumbled the man.

Cullen nodded 'Well, Kieran, come at me.'

Nervously, the young man cast his black eyes around the crowd, hoping to disappear amongst his fellow recruits rather than being singled out.

'Come on man!' roared Cullen 'Do you think the enemy is going to leave you alone in the heat of battle? You'll be faced with one, if not five or more enemies coming at you at once, ready to spill your blood as best as they can. Now come at me.'. Cullen's last words were stern and low, with a tone that could not be interpreted as anything but an immediate threat. Standing tall in the middle of the sparring circle, the ex-templar's feet were firmly planted in the ground, sword and shield ready, as if he had done this a million times before and probably had.

Raising his right arm that was holding his blade, the young man lunged towards the Commander. Kieran swung his sword diagonally across at Cullen, who effortlessly took a step back to avoid it, leaving the recruit to fall forward, his blade hitting the dusty ground with an unceremonious clang. With one short, sharp shove, Cullen rammed Kieran with his shield, and the young man fell backwards onto the ground with an oomph. A few men and women chuckled in the crowd before silencing quickly as the Commander threw his eyes dangerously across the group.

'Do you think this is a joke?' he roared 'If this seems funny, I can imagine how hilarious it will be to see you all run through by an enemy blade on our next mission.'. The courtyard went deadly silent, not even the pigeons that resided in the wooden rafters of The Herald's Rest dared coo when the Commander was in such a mood. 'To those of you who are actually interested in learning how to fucking fight, did you see how I used my shield as a weapon to destabilise him? I used it on the offence. I used it as a weapon, with more force to push my enemy off his feet than a sword ever could. When you're fighting the enemy remember to use what you have in your hands to the best of its abilities.'

The Commander stood over Keiran and reached out his metal gauntleted hand, helping the recruit up off the ground. It was clear that Kieran was struggling under the weight of his metal cuirass to gain his foothold.

'It's hard to move in this armour.' winced Kieran achingly as he rejoined his fellow recruits. A few nodded in agreement, and there was more than half a dozen shifting uncomfortably in their steel dressings even as they stood idle.

'We could train better without it.' observed one of the younger recruits, producing a few ayes in the crowd.

Cullen nodded briefly and raised his eyebrows as if pondering the thought. 'Yes, you're probably right. You could swing a sword better without the cuirass, and you could move easier without the pauldrons.'. Walking slowly and sagely, like a man who had seen more in one lifetime than a dozen soldiers ever would, Cullen threw his eyes sternly across the recruits. 'Has anyone heard of The Great Serf Rebellion of Bastion?' he asked, looking around at a sea of blank faces 'No I thought as much.'.

Throwing his shield to the ground, Cullen rested against the stone wall of the foundations behind him. the sweat from his brow glistening in the midday sun. 'Bastion, for those of you who do not know, is a large city in the south of Antiva, well known for it's feudalistic tendencies, and the subsequent peasants obligation of serfdom under that regime. The land is controlled by a handful of extremely powerful merchant families, I believe the lords of the land are referred to as Merchant Princes over there. Fifty years ago there was one group of serfs that worked over a rather extensive part of Bastion under the servitude of Lord Sarzurious, a man who owned many of the lucrative mines and vineyards in south Bastion. Forced to work for the Merchant Prince, the Bastion serfs under the regime of Lord Sarzurious were offered little in return that amounted to adequate protection or food. In fact, Lord Sarzurious treated his serfs worse than slaves for the most part. As you can imagine, over the years the serfs became somewhat...disgruntled in their predicament and decided to overthrow their tyrannous master. Lord Bravadius, another Bastion landowner in the region, desired such a rebellion. He knew that it would open up an opportunity to take over the lucrative estate of Lord Sazarious, something that would otherwise never fall into the hands of Lord Bravadius.'

Cullen held up his longsword to the recruits, the silver steel's reflection from the sun blinding their eyes 'In secret, Lord Bravadius funded the serfs in their planned rebellion, providing them with exceptional quality Antivan steel weapons and armour. For a year the serfs trained to fight in secret, practicing with sword and dagger, bow and axe, until the day arrived that they decided to strike. Lord Sazarious naturally had soldiers protecting him, however they were half the number of the serfs that approached the gates of his manor in the early hours of morning on that fateful day. Each and every serf was donned in the finest steel plate armour, and each held an exquisite weapon in their hands. The outcome of the day was assumed obvious and victorious in its result. However...'. Cullen turned his sharp gaze upon the crowd '..they were all misled in their assumptions. As the battle began, the serfs struggled and stumbled to fight as they were met with the soldiers and knights of Lord Sazarious. For all the weapon training they had done in secret, not one of the serfs had practiced wearing their armour. Not one. The weight of the steel exhausted them, drained them of their stamina. They couldn't yield their weapons, and they couldn't move with agility. Although not outnumbered, the serfs were struck down that day effortlessly. Each and every one slaughtered at the entrance of their master's estate.'

A heavy blanket of silent unease fell across the courtyard. Satisfied by the response, Cullen nodded before continuing 'This is why we train in our armour. This is why when you are not training, you will continue to wear your armour throughout the day, right up until you retire for the night. These heavy, uncomfortable steel trappings are now your second skin, and if I see anyone not wearing them in their entirety there will be repercussions. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes Commander.' replied the group of recruits.

'Good.' remarked Cullen 'For the rest of the afternoon I want to see you in groups of five, using your shield for attack and defence. We will not stop until the sun goes down. Proceed.'

The recruits hastily joined off in groups, eager to placate their Commander. Everyone knew Cullen Rutherford was an exceptionally talented warrior, however he lacked the bedside manner that others may have bestowed when teaching. To the Commander the only thing that mattered was results. He would push every recruit under his command to their limits, and refused to coddle and comfort in between. Perhaps he would get little thanks for it in the short run, but Cullen knew in the middle of a fight his recruits would be eternally grateful for his method of teaching.

Running his stern gaze over the group, Cullen could see Leliana approaching in the distance, descending the stairs from the Great Hall with a light swiftness in her step. Silently she approached the sparring circle and sidled up to the Commander with a raised eyebrow, looking towards the soldiers fumbling about with their shields.

'Give them time, they will come good.' muttered the Commander.

'Time is something we may not have.' observed the spymaster with a hint of doubt. Leliana looked tired, her ginger hair lay scattered across her face limply, and dark skin bulged under her eyes. It was apparent she had enjoyed little sleep or respite for many days. 'I have had word that Samson was spotted near the Emerald Greaves but a week ago. One of my spies was taken by his Red Templars. I will be heading out tomorrow at dawn to track them.'

'Use your fucking shield Flinders!' Cullen roared towards an older recruit in the corner of courtyard. With a heavy sigh, he turned back to Leliana. 'They will be ready, even if they do this all night.'

A curl grew on Leliana's lip as she observed the agitation in the Commander. She knew Cullen too well to believe shields were the real reason of his displeasure on this particular afternoon. 'I assume Cassandra mentioned I will be taking the Inquisitor with me?' she added.

'Of course.' muttered Cullen, turning his back to observe his recruits. With his face concealed, Leliana could not see the shadow that fell across it at the mention of Trevelyan. 'Hopefully you will be able to locate Samson, as well as your agent.' remarked the Commander 'If that is all, I must return to my duties.'

With a swift nod, Leliana withdrew back to the steps, eager to ascend into her study at the top of the tower once more.

'Leliana.' called out Cullen

'Commander?'

With dark amber eyes that glared into her green quite sternly he stopped for a moment. 'Keep her safe.' he said in a softer voice, before turning with a sharp step towards his recruits once more.

The spymaster watched Cullen, curiously, as he returned to his recruits, already barking orders at several. With a small smile, she departed the courtyard to prepare for the next day's journey. There was much to be done and little time to ponder anything in between, however much she may have wanted to do otherwise.

****

Stumbling through the green forest of the Emerald Greaves, a peace had fallen upon us that dreamy afternoon as we drifted through the broken sunlight filtering through the leafy branches above. Holding my hands above me, outstretched into the endlessness, the warmth peppered across my fingers, begging me to dance with it like a long lost lover, revelling in our reunion after such a very long, long time. Such euphoria at such a simple moment, I dared not close my eyes for I knew what would come to pass. What often crossed my mind in the silence of a rare moment to myself. Cullen.

While the others drew up their cloaks tight to their necks and blew warmth into their fingers, I was oblivious to the unforgiving chill in the afternoon air. The pink flush on my cheeks had nothing to do with the threat of an impending winter frost on the air, nor was my lack of hunger a result of having had my fill of nourishment. As many a fool before me, I was stumbling along the path of my life with my eyes shut tight, humming the sweet tune of infatuation all the way along, unaware that the shadows loomed close by.

Not even Corypheus could dampen my spirits at present, and that was why I knew what I was feeling was dangerous. Unrealistic. Perhaps even delusional...but I did not care. None of this mattered anymore. All that I wanted, all that I truly craved was the company of a man whose time was scarcely bestowed upon me. Unrequited. Unreturned. Unwanted. For every action of his that warranted serious question, I was eager to excuse it with the flippant excuse of fate. Of destiny, to which we fools are ever obliging to use to explain why two people meet. Time had chosen to bring Cullen and I together for a higher purpose, so who was I to question the troublesome facts?

Of course I knew I was being ludicrous. Cullen was nothing more than the keeper of my affections, a wonderful and most cruel master that dangled a small sceric of happiness before me before pulling it away from my grasping hands. I wasn't even sure if he knew he was doing it half the time, so powerful was his hold over me that merely being in his presence filled me with strange comfort and delight. The more I feasted on that delirium, the more I wanted, and the more I needed it, until I was nothing more than a rabid beast in the wilds craving it's next meal in uninhibited, wanton desire.

The pendulum of my psyche swung from bliss to despair many times in every breath I took. I was losing control over my every part of being and the sad desperation of the Inquisition had sent me drowning into morbid reality. I was suffocating, if not dying already, and I was using Cullen as a rope to pull me out of it. I knew however that the temporary ignorant delight I experienced through him only lead me further into the depths of that pool of ruin. When I finally opened my eyes, when I tried to draw my one last breath, I knew I would be long past saving myself and there would be nothing to be done about it.

The sound of a second horse approached from behind me, it's hoofs softly treading through the long wet grass of the damp forest floor. Looking across to my side I was greeted by Cole, serenely looking about the forest as he rode beside me, the brim of his hat hanging low across his face. 'Falling, falling. Ever falling.' he whispered in a sing-song manner 'The water is rising above your head and you are sinking into the depths. Flaying arms and short breaths, you are losing control and you wonder what to do. But what can you do? To love is to feel pain, and no one loves pain. He does though. He loves it, and he knows he will cause it.'

A heavy sigh released from my lips as I looked away from the rogue. I didn't need this, not now. I knew Cole was reading my thoughts. I knew he had read Cullen's. However I did not want to know. Not like this.

'The pain is so strong,' continued Cole placidly 'seering like white heat, and there is no escape. I try to take it away from him but it is sewn into his flesh and blood, flowing through his veins, running deeper to his core. It is bound to him and I cannot take it away lest I destroy him, for now the darkness and him are one and the same. They cannot be parted, they cannot be torn apart.'. Cole sighed sadly, his shoulders hunched over as if he could feel the very pain himself and could not bare it.

Casting a frown to my companion, I pulled my reins to slow my horse to a halt. 'Do you have something to say?' I asked sharply.

'Bad things, terrible things happen to people and there is no way to remove them from the past they have endured. It becomes a part of them, and they change. They are transformed, liked a caterpillar into a moth, and even though the nightmares have changed them, they are no less beautiful than the butterflies of the world. Dark winged creatures of despair, so perfect. So...perfect. It has changed him and shaped him into the man that he is now. If I took those memories away he would be a different person. Cullen would cease to be.'

'No one is asking you to fix Cullen.' I snapped.

'Yes you do.' replied Cole sadly 'You want to take away his pain all the time. That is why you need to understand. That is what I am trying to make you understand.'. His eyes lifted from under the wide brimmed hat, and drew patiently into mine 'He likes you but fears to love. If he opens himself to you, you will see...you will see.. and he knows you will not want to see.'.

Digging my heels into the side of my horse, I quickened the pace and left Cole behind. Perhaps what he said was true, but I didn't want to hear it.

As the sun fell behind the trees and darkness began to engulf the forest, we set up camp, Vivienne, Varric, Cole, Leliana and I. A small grove of trees provided us with some concealment, and a small fire burned brightly, a warmth that was eagerly welcomed. One of the Inquisition's agents had gone missing, and it was imperative that we find them. We had been wandering through the forest for less than a day, searching for any signs that the Red Templars had ventured this way, although to our dismay and possible relief we had found nothing except the deep serenity of the forest.

Shaking my head, I threw some twisted up leaves I had been diligently tearing away at into the depths of the camp fire. Ever since I had spoken to Cole, I had been thrown into a most foul mood. My bubble of my infatuation, idealising the misconstrued actions of Cullen, had been burst by the observant spirit that took pleasure in analysing the minds of others. Cole was trying to help, of that I knew, however like many with such good intentions the result often rendered quite the opposite.

I spent the better half of the night meditating on idle thoughts, trying to distract myself from what I craved to think about, until all my companions had retired to bed and I was left alone with my mind to haunt me once more. Leliana was also awake, however she too seemed plagued by her own demons that night, quietly observing the silence with welcomed reverence. Leliana lent her ginger hair against the log behind her, and was looking up to the stars, as if searching for an answer from the Maker above.

'The stars are so beautiful in a clear night sky,' she murmured 'I almost forget how much so when I spend too long at Skyhold in my study.'

'Yes,' I murmured 'out here it almost feels how life should be.'

'Life is never how it should be.' muttered Leliana bitterly.

I turned my eyes to the spymaster, half interested in that remark, half concerned. I was under no pretences at how important Leliana was to the success of the Inquisition. If she was losing faith, then we were all doomed.

Leliana's eyes were wide and looking deep into the night, as if only slightly aware of my presence and her observations were rather directed to herself. 'I spent many nights like this in Ferelden,' whispered the spymaster 'after I left Lothering. I would sit and tell so many stories to my companions on a nightly basis, like a naive little child, unaware of what foul events would come my way as the days progressed. How I long for that innocence again, in our blissful unawareness of the impending terrors fate bestows upon us all, perhaps it is only there where we can truly be happy?'

'Cassandra mentioned that you travelled with the Hero of Ferelden' I remarked, interested in holding a conversation that could distract my spiralling thoughts.

'Hero.' scoffed Leliana bitterly 'Hardly. She killed an arch demon but does that act alone make you a hero? No. Heros are just people, and people can do terrible things. I believe a hero must be selfless in their sacrifice. She is self serving until the end.'

Raising my brows, I shifted my body to face Leliana. 'What did she do to warrant that assessment?' I asked curiously, if not a little surprised.

A tired sigh departed Leliana's lips, her eyes glassy at the memories filling her already consumed mind. 'There were many things that Sierra Amell did, where does one begin? Ah that's right.' chuckled the bard bitterly 'She murdered me.'

'What?!!' I blurted out.

A hardened expression grew on Leliana's face. 'Yes.' she replied sharply 'At the temple of Sacred Ashes. She intended to taint the ashes of our holy Andraste for the sake of a cult, The Disciples of Andraste. They worshipped a high dragon which they falsely believed was the reincarnation of Andraste herself. What fools. We all knew they were delusional and dangerous, but the hero believed she could use this to her advantage. The leader of the cult, Kolgrim, asked her to pour a vial of the dragon's blood onto the ashes of Andraste.'