Behold, the final chapter! Heads up that I altered the final battle a bit - personally, I love final battles where you get to take everyone with you or at least have a sense that everyone's fighting beside you, so that's what's here. I tried to fast-track through the slog of the fighting itself in order to get to the scenes and interactions, but let me know if you think it's too rushed! Or, I mean, if there's any part in general that you think needs tweaking. First half is in Trevelyan's POV, second in Leliana's.

Notes and such are at the end. Enjoy!

(PS: note that there's discussion of certain lore that may be spoilery? Maybe? If you want to be surprised for Inquisition DLCs, you may want to be cautious.)

The next handful of days passed in a blur. Trevelyan's wound, despite being painful, healed more quickly than she'd expected. She'd asked Morrigan about it, when they'd traveled to the Altar of Mythal ("Perhaps the effects of the red lyrium, transferred to you from Sampson himself? T'would explain the appeal of the substance, after all."). Trevelyan had been vaguely unsatisfied with the conjecture, but put it out of her mind after it was clear she would recover with no ill effects.

Then had come the waiting for their troops to return from the Arbor Wilds. Cullen had sent word that he was traveling ahead of them. No doubt the Commander was eager to discuss their final strategy of slaying Corypheus once and for all – they all were. But Cullen had yet to arrive, so Trevelyan and the few left in Skyhold were reduced to an anxious anticipation.

Trevelyan, having developed a gnawing headache as the day wore on, had wandered outside and seated herself on the platform of the staircase leading down to the courtyard, legs dangling over the edge. Here, she could get fresh air and watch the gate surreptitiously (though, Trevelyan supposed that staring dead-on at the gate – which was what she'd been doing – was anything but surreptitious).

Cole had found her there and taken a seat next to her. Cole had suggested cloud-gazing ("Varric taught me. He said it helps with the unraveling, when your head is tangled."). Trevelyan had humored him, knowing it was the boy's way of attempting to make her feel better. Cole's observations varied from excessively literal to so abstract they took Trevelyan a minute to comprehend.

But now, as they sat in simple silence staring up at the sky, Trevelyan had to admit she felt calmer, even if the ache in her head remained. She leaned back, letting her eyes fall closed, enjoying the play of wind through her hair and the sunlight washing over her face. The sounds of the courtyard filtered through the air: the dull thwacks of Cassandra and Iron Bull's training weapons, as well as the occasional grunt when the other landed a well-placed blow; the distant echo of voices and laughter from the garden, where Josephine had gathered a group for tea; Sera's shrieked Shite! and the sound of glass breaking (Maker, Trevelyan hoped that wasn't one of her jar of bees).

There was a sweetness to the moment, despite what lay ahead, that Trevelyan savored.

"Honey," Cole spoke up suddenly, startling Trevelyan. "In her wine."

Trevelyan waited, but no more details seemed forthcoming. "Cole," she said, opening her eyes and smiling slightly at the boy's quirky behavior. "Who has honey in their wine?"

Cole's pale brows knit together. "No one. Or…perhaps someone?" He shook his head. "I don't know. Probably –"

Trevelyan cut off his rambling gently. "Who were you talking about?"

"Oh. Leliana. She likes honey in her wine." Cole's expression smoothed. He smiled, fingers tracing an intricate pattern along the stone.

Trevelyan raised a brow, gaze sliding over to Cole. She hadn't realized that. It seemed like such a trivial fact, but knowing it filled Trevelyan's chest with warmth. She idly glanced back at Skyhold's tower, watching ravens flit in and out its windows. What other little things did Leliana enjoy?

As if sensing her thoughts, Cole continued. "She likes sweet things. Everything was bitter, before. Burning, black, the taste of darkness. A sacrifice, and then another and another, blood in the challis, blood on the ground, blood on her hands. Bitter, blighted blessings, draining the succor of the rose – is that why the petals are red?" Cole's voice grew more strained as he went on, the words pouring from his mouth. He slumped in on himself, and Trevelyan felt a pang of concern for him.

"Cole, hey," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, hoping the weight of it would anchor him to the present. "Come back."

Cole glanced over his shoulder, looking up at her, pale eyes gazing into her own. "Come back to me. Whispers in the night. A smile. Soft touches. A tender blooming, dawn rising in the darkness. Hearts singing hope." Cole smiled, turning to face her and crossing his legs. He watched her reaction curiously.

Trevelyan blushed lightly. Though half of what he said was a riddle, she understood enough to know he was speaking about her and Leliana's relationship. She cleared her throat. "That's…disconcerting, to be on the receiving end of," she mumbled under her breath.

"She is happy. You gave that to her, and she to you. I…" Cole looked bashful, lowering his eyes. He continued, sincerely, "I don't understand why, but it makes me happy, too."

Trevelyan smiled widely, her blush deepening. She leaned over and wrapped an arm around Cole's shoulders, pulling him into a quick hug. "Thank you, Cole," she said simply, ruffling his hair before moving away. "You're a good kid."

Cole beamed. "Varric says so too."

Trevelyan laughed. She opened her mouth to reply, but her head pounded with a sharp pain and she clenched her jaw, breath hissing out of her lungs. It felt like a knife had been driven into her head, and she screwed her eyes shut, breathing raggedly.

"You're hurt!" Cole sounded far away, though Trevelyan was dimly aware that his hands were on her shoulders. "I don't – I don't know how to make it better…"

Trevelyan gasped out a breath, about to tell him it was just a nasty headache, when a pins-and-needles feeling began to crawl up her arm from her hand. White-hot lightning sparked through her veins. Behind her eyelids, all Trevelyan could see was green. Tears streamed down her face. It felt like her hand was on fire.

It hurt, it had never hurt like this before – no. Not never. A faint memory stirred of a similar pain. Stone walls; red swirling through the air; a deep, booming voice; pain ripping, tearing through her entire body. Green.

Someone was screaming, the sound fading in and out of the fog in her mind. It took Trevelyan a few disconnected moments to realize it was her, her voice twisted and warped in agony.

"Inquisitor!"

"What's going on?"

"Move aside!"

"The mark!"

All of the words, the voices, were familiar, but Trevelyan could make no sense of them. The lightning cooled though still lanced through her arm. But then –

"Trevelyan!" There were soft hands on her face, a tender touch. Leliana.

Trevelyan gritted her teeth and opened her eyes. Her vision swam before settling. The spymaster was kneeling next to her, blue eyes wide.

"Leliana," Trevelyan said, her mouth feeling as if it had been stuffed with ashes, the acrid taste of destruction on her tongue. "It…hurts," Trevelyan admitted, but seeing the worry – the fear – in her lover's eyes, she pushed past the haze in her mind and tried to sit up, adding, "A little."

Leliana's thumbs soothed away the tears tracking down Trevelyan's cheeks. Trevelyan reached out a hand to comfort the spymaster, but stopped when she saw the Anchor. It was glowing brightly, tendrils of green magic emanating from her palm. She flexed her fingers, trying to close it, but the mark didn't respond. What was happening?

"The Inquisitor requires a healer!" Cassandra bellowed from somewhere behind Trevelyan.

"Na melana tel'sahlin. This condition is fleeting. Tis no need for a healer." Trevelyan could feel a hand wrap around her wrist, and when she turned Morrigan had settled next to Leliana, examining the Anchor with a sharp gaze.

"How can you –?"

The question was cut off as the Anchor flared brilliantly, shooting a bolt of through Trevelyan's arm that had the edges of her vision blackening, tinting her world green. She blinked but the color didn't clear.

"What in the name of the Maker…" Around her, everyone stood, staring in confusion.

The sky glimmered green. Slowly, clouds began to swirl around a point on the near horizon. They picked up speed, and a familiar shape appeared there.

Another Breach.

Morrigan tutted, her eyes on the blemish in the sky. "It seems Corypheus is not content to wait."

"He's drawing us to him," Trevelyan remarked, rising to her feet. As soon as the Breach had opened, the Anchor had died down, taking the pain with it. She felt like the sheath of a drawn sword, hollow and strangely light.

"Trevelyan!" Leliana's attention returned to the rogue, and she frowned. She put a hand on Trevelyan's arm as if to steady her. "Are you –"

"I'm alright now." Trevelyan gave the redhead a small, comforting smile. "It's…odd, but where there was pain, now there's just- nothing." She shrugged, casting a glance down at the silent mark. It was a stark reminder that, despite it's proven utility, the Anchor was still borne of magic they did not understand.

Leliana's eyes searched her face, noting the clarity of Trevelyan's gaze, the returning color to her ashen skin, the surety of her posture. After a moment, she nodded, hand trailing down the rogue's arm to circle lightly around the rogue's wrist, the thrum of Trevelyan's steady heartbeat beneath her fingertips reassuring her.

Trevelyan turned back to the Breach in the sky. Her eyes narrowed. "Corypheus is in the Valley of Sacred Ashes."

"Indeed. Either you close the Breach once more or it swallows the world." Morrigan's tone was somber.

"But…that's madness!" Josephine spoke up from the edge of the group, pushing her way forward to stand next to them. Her bronze complexion was several shades paler. "Wouldn't it kill him as well?"

"The fool is mad," Morrigan stated dryly, arching a brow and putting her hands on her hips. "That a madman succumbs to his own lunacy is hardly surprising."

It's pride, Trevelyan thought, certainty and dread falling like twin stones in her gut. If he cannot inherit the Maker's throne, then he'd rather see the world burn. The notion made her nauseous.

"Inquisitor," Cassandra said, drawing Trevelyan out of her thoughts. The Seeker's expression was drawn in sharp angles – the furrow of her brow, the tightness of her jaw, the slant of her frown. "The bulk of the Inquisition's forces will not return from the Arbor Wilds for some time. We are without an army."

Trevelyan's mouth set in a grim line. "I must go now, before it's too late." This new Breach was already widening in the sky. She couldn't afford to wait.

Cassandra immediately protested. "You cannot –"

Trevelyan squared her shoulders, glancing in turn at each of her gathered companions. By now, everyone had crowded around. "I have to."

Leliana's grip tightened around Trevelyan's wrist. When Trevelyan looked at her, there was an unreadable expression scrawled across the spymaster's face. But she met Trevelyan's eyes and nodded.

"This cannot wait, Cassandra," Leliana said in a measured tone, crossing her arms over her chest. "If we are to go, we must leave now." A shared look of understanding passed between the Right and Left Hand.

"Hold on. This fight will be dangerous. I will not ask anyone unwilling to join me, and I will take only a small party," Trevelyan said firmly, eyeing them both. They appeared unmoved by her words.

From behind Cassandra, Varric snorted. "Stabby," he drawled with a crooked smile. "If it's a small party you want..." He gestured down at himself, eyes glittering with mirth.

Trevelyan frowned, but Iron Bull spoke up next. "I'm with you, Boss. I think I like the challenge of cleaving a god in two."

"And I, for one, would never miss an opportunity to knock a magister down a peg," Dorian added in his typical smug-bordering-on-arrogant fashion, winking. The small smile he aimed at her hinted at a different motivation, and Trevelyan suspected there wasn't a corner of Thedas that her friend wouldn't accompany her if she was in need.

"What, with sparkles?" Sera rolled her eyes, indignant. "Arrows, that's what you'll need. Lots and lots of arrows." A mischievous grin spread across her freckled face, and she started sniggering. "And bees."

"In sum, I believe I speak for us all when I say you will be having all our support in the battle ahead. We won't desert you in your time of need, my dear," Vivienne said, lips curling into a regal smile.

"Corypheus is not your responsibility alone," Solas agreed, brows knit together gravely as he regarded the Breach hanging over them.

Trevelyan was buffeted with a wave of emotion as she regarded them all. She swallowed the rising lump in her throat. "Very well," she said, voice uneven. She cleared her throat. "I…I could ask for no finer company. No finer friends." Trevelyan cut herself off there.

"We could ask for no finer cause," Leliana replied, and Trevelyan's heart flipped at the tender look of devotion on the spymaster's face. The sapphire-blue of her lover's eyes were intoxicating, and for a long moment Trevelyan couldn't find it in herself to tear her gaze away.

"Hear, hear!" someone – Blackwall? – chimed in, and the sound of it broke Trevelyan's reverie, causing her to blush. The phrase caught on, and around her a chorus of affirmation went up.

Trevelyan grinned, feeling the telltale prick of tears burning behind her eyes. She truly could not have asked for better, more steadfast friends. There were none she would trust more to have her back in the battle ahead.

"Everyone grab their weapons and armor and rendezvous back here in an hour's time," she instructed. "For the Inquisition!"

"For the Inquisition!" They echoed, the rallying cry reverberating throughout the courtyard as they dispersed.

She waited until the others had left, then turned to Leliana. The spymaster stood at her side, cowl down, arms crossed loosely over her chest. She was smiling, small but true, and her eyes shone with pride.

"You're coming?" Trevelyan posed it as a question though she knew the answer already.

"I am," Leliana said unwaveringly, radiating a soft determination. She arched a brow at Trevelyan as if waiting to see whether the rogue would object. "I hear you'll need arrows."

"Lots of them," Trevelyan said playfully, with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. She had the utmost faith in the spymaster's abilities – Leliana was a capable fighter and could easily hold more than her own; there was a sense of comfort in the idea that she would be joining them. Still, Trevelyan couldn't quell the anxiety snaking in her gut at the thought of her lover putting herself in danger. It was an unsettling duality. "Leliana…"

Leliana frowned at her tone, and opened her mouth to retort, so Trevelyan continued quickly, moving past her doubts.

"I'm glad, to be in this together." Trevelyan took a step forward, reaching out and taking the spymaster's hands in hers, lacing their fingers together.

Leliana's expression softened at her words. "Always," she replied gently, echoing Trevelyan's promise and returning it in kind.

This time, Trevelyan's grin was true. "Good," she said, and leaned forward to press her lips against Leliana's.

The kiss started out slow, but the emotion and anticipation surrounding the upcoming battle fueled its intensity. Trevelyan swept her tongue over the redhead's lips, and with a small guttural sound in response, Leliana parted them eagerly. Leliana brought her hands to rest on Trevelyan's waist, each time her tongue grazed Trevelyan's sending a jolt through her. Trevelyan reached up, cupping the spymaster's cheek with one hand while the other gripped at the crest on Leliana's chest, dragging them closer. Leliana slipped her hands beneath the rogue's shirt, and the rasp of a moan Trevelyan made in reaction sent a flush of heat to Leliana's core. It felt like her body was on fire, but Maker, what a pleasure it was to burn.

"Wait." Trevelyan broke away, mind hazy and eyes closed. She could feel Leliana lean in to pursue her, nipping at her bottom lip. For a moment, Trevelyan couldn't remember why she'd stopped. "We should…" Her breath hitched as the spymaster's hands ghosted up her stomach. "Go. My quarters. Before someone stumbles upon us." They were in probably the least private area in Skyhold, practically begging for an interruption. Trevelyan's mind flashed back to their moment in the war room before they'd left for Valance, when Cullen had found them. The memory alone made her blush. Yes, one awkward intrusion was enough for her.

Trevelyan could feel Leliana smirk against her lips. "I am merely," she paused, dragging her hand almost torturingly slow across the plane of Trevelyan's stomach until resting it on Trevelyan's hip, her thumb hooked under the waistband of Trevelyan's pants. "Giving my Inquisitor a helping hand. Undressing is the first step to changing into armor, no?"

Trevelyan swallowed roughly, mouth dry. She had an idea of how Leliana's hands could help her. Trevelyan took a step back, feeling a flush creep up her neck and heat pooling somewhere decidedly farther south. Trevelyan bit her lip. "I suppose, though the step before that is usually to go somewhere private," she quipped, her dry humor kicking in where her rational thought was failing her.

Leliana's blue eyes were a shade darker as she watched Trevelyan, gaze flicking from the brunette's lips to her eyes. Her smirk returned. "Then let us go somewhere private."

The journey to the Valley of Sacred Ashes was much faster this time around, without a snowstorm to hinder them like they'd faced in their flight from Haven. As they marched, Trevelyan couldn't help but find a sort of poetic justice in the idea that this would end where it all began. But perhaps that was why Corypheus had chosen it.

Halfway through the trek, they had spotted a small party traveling towards them at an impressive speed. As they neared, Trevelyan recognized the Inquisition's insignia on the banners they carried and the sandy hair of their Commander. His face was grave as he approached her, dismounting his horse and handing the reins to one of the soldiers behind him.

"Well met, Commander," Trevelyan greeted, relieved to note that, despite a dogged weariness that haunted his gaze, Cullen seemed no worse for the wear.

"Indeed." Cullen ran a hand through his hair, glancing up at the sky. A hint of a wry and humorless smile graced his face. "Would that our victories lasted long enough to celebrate them."

Trevelyan let out a short laugh. "Where would be the fun in that?" She shook her head and explained their situation to him.

When she had finished, Cullen protested just as Cassandra had, but half-heartedly. He admitted that even the vanguard of their troops were still at least a day's march away. It was plain to see that the Breach was unstable and had already grown wider – time was a luxury they did not have.

"Inquisitor. If you insist on going into battle, I will not turn my back on you." Cullen squared his shoulders, straightening the exhaustion from his posture. His steely eyes met Trevelyan's own, and he continued, voice lower, "I ran from Corypheus once, at Haven." Dark emotion shadowed his face at the memory. Guilt? Whatever it was, it pained him enough to look away.

"Upon my orders," Trevelyan reminded him. Cullen looked back to her, though Trevelyan couldn't tell if he truly believed her words – if they were enough.

"Then," he paused, his hand coming to rest on the pommel of his sheathed sword as if it were a touchstone he could draw strength from. He glanced at someone behind her, then back to Trevelyan. "I ask you to give me different orders now. Allow me to join you in this fight."

Trevelyan hesitated, before nodding. She trusted the Commander to know his limits, and if this was what he wanted, what he needed… She would not deny him this redemption, though she didn't believe it was necessary. They'd done what they had to survive at Haven.

"Just…instruct your soldiers to return to Skyhold," Trevelyan said, gaze drifting to the half dozen Inquisition soldiers behind him. She had no doubt that, if given the chance, every one of them would charge into battle with them. Cullen apparently thought the same, and his brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to protest, but Trevelyan insisted. "Our people have done enough – more than enough. This is not their fight. It's ours."

Cullen regarded her a moment before bowing his head. "Very well, Inquisitor. And…thank you."

Trevelyan smiled faintly, watching him return to his soldiers and give them a few short orders. When he turned back, face a mask of resolve, Travelyan commanded, "Alright, move out!"

The wind picked up as they began their descent into the Valley, the sky darkening as clouds were sucked towards the pull of the Breach. Trevelyan had moved to take point, and Leliana was content to follow a few yards behind, bow in hand, eyes scanning the tree line. The air was thick, with more than just blowing snow – there was a wrongness that caused the hairs on the back of Leliana's neck to rise.

Varric, who was traipsing a few feet ahead of her, seemed to sense her tension. He shouldered Bianca and looked back at her. "So," he drawled, a small encouraging grin spreading across his face. "Seeing as this'll be your second time saving Thedas, any tips for us beginners?"

It was an innocuous enough question, but it brought back memories of the Battle of Denerim and slaying the archdemon. Memories of the rag tag group Leliana had (naively, it turned out) considered an inseparable family splinter, first when Morrigan abandoned them after the Warden had refused to complete her dark ritual, and then again when the Warden had slain the archdemon and sacrificed his life. Too much had been quietly lost on that day, even in the midst of their ultimate victory; the light in Alastair's eyes, the small smile Sten sometimes wore when he thought no one was looking, the innocence –

Chest suddenly feeling hollow and too empty, Leliana pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. The years had been enough to dull the sharpness of the memories, but not defang them completely. (What was it Trevelyan had said once – without sentimentality they'd be no better than Corypheus? Leliana knew it to be true, but Maker, that didn't make it easy.)

Realizing Varric was still waiting for an answer, she replied simply, "Don't die."

Leliana thought she'd masked emotion behind her words well enough, but Varric was perceptive. His face fell in sympathy, and he sighed with a weariness that was more than just his own. "Oh, Nightingale…" He hesitated, glancing to her right. Leliana followed his gaze and saw that Morrigan had drifted close to them. "Wasn't planning on it," he said, opting for his trademark humor, but giving her a knowing look. "I don't think any of us are."

With that, he bowed his head, a small sad smile hanging on his lips, and ambled away to give her privacy. Training her eyes back on the valley, Leliana wondered idly whether it was the dwarf's side career as a writer that made him so empathetic, or if it was his empathy that drove his writing.

"Leliana," Morrigan said, coming to stand by the spymaster's side. The witch's voice held a strange, heavy tone to it, causing Leliana to tear her gaze away from the valley before them.

Morrigan was watching her, expression stoic but amber eyes betraying an old pain, one that echoed with the fear writhing in Leliana's gut. A shared understanding passed between them like lightning, prickling the scars of old wounds.

"Tis going to be different, this time." It was barely a handful of words, the first they'd spoken of what had happened all those years ago, and not at all what Leliana had been expecting.

Leliana lifted her chin, meeting Morrigan's eyes. She was surprised to see the hesitance, the glimmer of vulnerability, there.

Morrigan herself was different now. The realization hit Leliana with more force than it should have. She had been so caught up in the bitterness caused by Morrigan's betrayal at the Battle of Denerim – Morrigan had abandoned them (the oddball family Leliana had foolishly thought they'd been), abandoned the man who so dearly loved her. Morrigan had ran, and Leliana had been so sure it had been out of pride or anger or some other selfish emotion. But now… Morrigan had returned, had aided the Inquisition forthcomingly enough (though Leliana couldn't shake the lingering suspicion that the witch had some ulterior motive). Now, in their hour of need, Morrigan was staying.

And Trevelyan was not the Warden. In the final moment, she would choose differently than he had.

"It already is different," Leliana replied quietly. Morrigan's brows rose slightly, eyes flickering with some feeling Leliana couldn't place. "We have suffered. The world has suffered. But, we are stronger for it. In our hearts burn an unquenchable flame."

Morrigan scoffed and rolled her eyes at the paraphrased Chant of Light line. "It seems at least some things remain ever constant."

A faint chuckle escaped Leliana's mouth. "Yes, I thought you would appreciate that."

"Hmph." Morrigan's eyes slid back to the spymaster, neither confirming nor refuting the remark. Her lips pressed into something that almost resembled a smile. Her typical biting comment went left unsaid, to Leliana's surprise.

Yes, things truly were different, this time around.

They managed to near Haven (what remained of Haven) before they ran into trouble.

Cullen and Leliana flanked Trevelyan as the group came to shore of the frozen lake. Trevelyan's hands were clenched in fists at her side, shoulders tense.

"Movement ahead," Leliana noted, seeing shadows through the snow in the air. She drew an arrow, knocking it.

"Be on guard," Trevelyan called over her shoulder. Leliana could hear the metallic sounds of armor shifting and weapons being drawn behind her.

"Demons, no doubt." Cullen said, brows furrowed as he peered ahead. "Is there a rift nearby?"

Trevelyan shook her head with a frown. If there were demons this far out from the Temple, who knew how many more would be waiting for them the closer they got?

They heard a snarl, and all of a sudden they were being charged. Leliana pulled her bowstring, aiming for the chest of the nearest one, and let her arrow fly. It connected with a scraping clang.

Armor. Not demons, then.

With their numbers, the battle was over in a scant moment, with only their ranged fighters engaging. There'd been five enemies, Leliana saw as they stood over the crumpled forms.

"Red Templars?" Trevelyan wondered, nudging the helmet of one with her foot. "They're smaller than usual. Weaker, too."

The bodies were encased in armor, red lyrium crystals spiking off the metal, feeble bursts of red magic occasionally flaring up like a flame slowly being choked off. They were small, both their heights and builds no larger than an ordinary human's. Something was off.

Trevelyan knelt, carefully lifting the corpse's helm. When it came away, Trevelyan's hands faltered, and she sucked in a sharp breath. "These are-"

"Walking dead," Leliana confirmed, staring down at the shriveled, eyeless face.

"Shite," Sera swore from somewhere behind them, voice shrill. "Shite, shite, shite, that's wrong! Dead should stay dead!"

"They'll all be dead again soon enough," Blackwall reassured her.

From where he'd been examining the corpses, Cullen looked up, mouth pressed into a grim line. "Inquisitor. When they lived, these were Templars. We…should be wary. There may be more in the area."

Yes, Leliana supposed if there was one place with plenty of corpses to reanimate, it would be here. The thought of Corypheus mutilating these souls not once, but twice, caused a cold anger to freeze through her veins.

"Understood." Trevelyan's expression was hard, but Leliana could just make out the revulsion hidden beneath in the slant of her frown, the bob of her throat as she swallowed quickly, the shifting of her gaze as she avoided looking at the bodies at her feet.

As the party started moving again, Leliana drew close and put a comforting hand on the rogue's arm. Wordlessly, Trevelyan shot her a grateful smile.

They ran into more as they snaked along the path to the Temple, mostly pockets of just a few ambling aimlessly in the desolate valley. Farther along, however, the walking dead increased in number and ferocity. The first time they were flanked, Leliana chalked it up to an unfortunate coincidence. They'd been fighting a half dozen walking dead where the path led uphill and cut along a sheer cliff, so that they were forced to fight in a natural narrow corridor. Another, smaller group of walking dead had heard the sounds of fighting and had come up the path, boxing the Inquisition party in.

The second time was no coincidence.

"These are no ordinary animated corpses," Cassandra said, sheathing her sword and scowling down at the now twice-dead bodies.

Iron Bull snorted, blood trickling from a shallow wound on his chest. "Are there ordinary ones?"

Cassandra huffed at the quip. "They should be mindless, but these…they are capable of thought, strategy."

"These also look different," Leliana pointed out. They were less withered, less grotesque, and they had moved in a more fluid, natural way.

"Perhaps it is an effect of the lyrium?" Solas, who had been mostly silent until now, suggested. He bent, examining a body clothed in what might have been a mage's robes but were now tattered almost beyond recognition. Red lyrium was encrusted on parts of the corpse's skin.

"Whatever it is, I do not like it," Cassandra said, casting a last dark look down before turning away.

"Tis a powerful, tainted magic," Morrigan remarked, standing at Trevelyan's side. The witch frowned as she stared down at the bodies, brows drawn together. As Leliana watched, she tilted her head ever so slightly as if she were listening to something, but Leliana could hear nothing. "Beyond even Corypheus' ken. Tis likely he is drawing upon some artifact or source to create these…things."

"Stabby…" Varric gave Trevelyan a meaningful look.

"He's using the red lyrium beneath the Temple." Trevelyan's eyes were cold, face stony. She turned to look at the walls of the Temple, looming in the near distance. "Why is it always red lyrium?" she wondered quietly.

Varric muttered something under his breath that sounded like There's the question.

"Whatever shit he's got up his sleeve, we're gonna find out soon enough, Boss," Iron Bull pointed out, his great axe still in his white-knuckled grip.

Trevelyan nodded and the party moved out. They did not encounter any more enemies along their path, and that paired with the howling of the wind and the darkening of the sky around them set everyone's nerves on edge. This was it, what all of the Inquisition's actions had pushed towards. The moment of truth.

Stepping onto the charred ground of the Temple imparted an uneasy sense of déjà vu in Leliana. When she had been here with the Warden, searching for Andraste's ashes, the Temple had invoked a sense of awe and reverence in her. With Justinia and the impending Conclave, hope. After the explosion, despair and vengeance. And now? Leliana's emotions were a moving target and she was unable to pin them down.

Leliana thought she could see Corypheus' form by the entrance to the ruined Temple, right hand alight with scarlet magic. She shot Trevelyan a sidelong glance. The rogue's eyes were narrowed and focused sharply on the former magister as well, daggers in hand.

"I-in…quisitor." A rasp of a voice brokenly called out. Leliana's brows rose in surprise, and Trevelyan's steps faltered. To their right, slumped against the crumbling remains of a wall, was an Inquisition scout. Her brown eyes were dark, half-closed, and when they approached, Leliana noticed the shallow rise and fall of her chest was uneven. The scout turned her ashen face slowly to the spymaster. "L-lady Nightingale."

"Piper," Leliana recognized, the young woman a shell of herself now.

"Is there anything we can do?" Trevelyan asked, voice breaking halfway through the question. She knelt next to the scout, examining the gaping wound in her abdomen.

"No, my dear," Vivienne said simply, but not uncaringly. Trevelyan's jaw clenched.

Piper's lips, red with a sheen of blood, rose into a whisper of a smile. "It…was a p-pleasure to serve." Her eyes swung from Trevelyan to Leliana. "Tell m-my brother-"

Leliana nodded, her heart constricting. She had heard enough dying wishes over the years to know the rest of that sentence without it being spoken.

Piper's eyes closed, her smile widening ever so slightly. She took a shuddering breath. "For…the Inquisition."

Trevelyan stayed by her side until the scout's chest stilled. When she stood, there was a fire in her eyes. Every muscle in her body was taut. She was an arrow ready to fly. "Let's go."

The weight of the death settled heavily on everyone's shoulders. The party took a few steps away when there was an odd, crackling hum behind them.

"What n-?" Cassandra stopped short, turning and eyes widening at what she saw.

As Leliana watched, magic arced like lightning over Piper's fallen form, clinging like static. Her skin became rosy, her veins glowing eerily crimson.

When her eyes opened, they shone scarlet, no trace of brown behind them.

"Fucking shite!" Sera yelped.

Piper stood, movements unencumbered by the mortal wound in her stomach.

"Piper?" Trevelyan stepped forward, and Leliana's grip tightened on her bow.

"Too late." Piper's voice was gravelly, hard. In a deft move, she unsheathed the shortsword at her belt. Just as swift, Leliana knocked an arrow. "You were too late to save me." With that, she lunged at the Inquisitor.

Leliana pulled her bowstring back, aiming in the time it took her to blink. She needn't have bothered. Trevelyan neatly sidestepped the blow and countered, her dagger lodging into Piper's chest. A merciful strike that would grant a quick death. Trevelyan whispered something to the scout that Leliana was not close enough to hear, but she read the words I'm sorry from her lover's lips. Piper fell, lifeless once more.

"What manner of creature was that?" Cassandra wondered, giving voice to the question on everyone's mind. "It could not be a walking dead."

"No," Morrigan agreed, amber eyes not leaving the scout. "T'was a walking ghost."

The Seeker scoffed, and Leliana tried to keep the skepticism out of her voice when she asked, "A…ghost?"

Before Morrigan could respond, there was a whispery sound, like sighs or hushed voices. Piper's body charred, burning without flames, turning to ash. With a gust of wind, the ashes scattered, disappearing into thin air.

"Borne of the lyrium here." Morrigan's words were hallowed with awe. She shook her head, then glanced at Trevelyan. "Inquisitor, we should beware."

Trevelyan looked up from the last place Piper's body had been and nodded shortly.

The party picked their way through the ruins to the Temple's entrance. As they neared, Leliana could see Corypheus standing in the doorway, the elven orb clutched in his grip, swirling with magic. At his feet lay three Inquisition scouts, though Leliana noted thankfully that they were still very much alive. Corypheus was speaking to them, his deep voice carrying in the ruins.

"You say your Inquisition seeks to save Thedas, to bring order. Tell me, is that what you see here? Bow to me, and I shall restore the world to its proper glory. I shall bring deliverance. Bow to your new god, of your new world, and be spared."

"Never!" One of the scouts shouted, scrambling to his feet.

Corypheus' lip curled into a sneer. "As you wish." The orb in his hand flared, shooting out a wave of crimson magic that buffeted the area, bringing the scout to his knees. Out of the wave, two figures appeared, what looked like a Templar and a Dalish mage. Their eyes burned scarlet.

With a roar, Cassandra rushed forward, parrying the strike the Templar had aimed at the scout. The Dalish mage cast a protective barrier, but was beset by Iron Bull and Sera's arrows. Through the melee, Trevelyan strode to stand before Corypheus.

Corypheus mockingly bowed to her. "I knew you would come. Returning like a gnat to the stench of your failure."

Trevelyan gritted her teeth. "It ends here, Corypheus."

He smirked, straightening. "This place has seen so many endings, Inquisitor. So many deaths. And now it – they – shall see yours as well."

Corypheus spread his arms wide. Another blast of magic exploded from the orb, staggering them all and forcing them several yards back. Two things happened at once: a red mist rose from the ground, and great pieces of the earth and Temple rose in the air as if being scooped up by a giant invisible hand. Shadows began to appear in the mist – one, two, a dozen, dozens. Maker, it was too many to count, too many to guess.

Corypheus had constructed a floating fortress in the air out of the carcass of the Temple. As it ascended higher into the sky, he called down, "Should those you failed to save not end you first, 'Herald of Andraste,' I leave you a way to me." A hundred yards away, a small, perilous-looking path rose, a tentative connection to the mass in the sky.

And blocking the way was Corypheus' ghostly army. All of those who had died at the Conclave, their eyes glinting through the shadows.

"Shit," Leliana heard Trevelyan curse as an incoming arrow whistled past her head.

The party leapt into action. Solas cast a protective barrier around them, though Leliana still ducked behind a crumbling wall for cover, letting a volley of arrows fly at a group of approaching Templars. Dorian and Vivienne rained spells of fire and ice down on the battlefield, and Iron Bull swung a mighty blow at a charging Qunari warrior. The familiar crackle of Morrigan's lightning magic downed two of the Templars Leliana had been aiming at, and stunned the rest, allowing the spymaster to fell them with a few skillful shots. Sera and Cole charged a group of mages that were attempting to flank the party, the elf cackling maniacally while the boy was silent and deadly.

It was chaos, and they were effectively pinned in a defensive position, the numbers overwhelming.

"Inquisitor!" Cullen's voice barely rang out above the fray. "We will carve you a path. You must go after Corypheus!"

Trevelyan, who had been skirting along the edges of combat and striking vulnerable foes, glanced over her shoulder at him. Leliana could clearly read the reluctance in her gaze; Trevelyan was not one to leave her allies behind.

From across the way, Iron Bull yelled, "The Commander's right, boss!" He sliced his axe through the air, cleaving an elven rogue who'd been attempting to sneak up on him.

Cullen deflected an arrow with his shield, then lashed out at an approaching Templar. "We'll divide our forces in two. Take who you like with you, Inquisitor. We will break their lines, buy you time to get through."

Trevelyan's mouth pressed into a thin line, but she nodded. "Alright. The scouts will stay here with you, Commander. Morrigan, Solas, Dorian, Cassandra, Varric…" Trevelyan named, scanning the party as she did so. Her eyes locked on Leliana, and the spymaster started towards her, taking the decision out of the rogue's hands. "And Leliana, with me. Everyone…stay safe."

"We will make you proud, my dear," Vivienne promised, twirling her staff and freezing an archer sniping from atop a nearby wall.

"Yeah, and no funny business, right?" Sera piped up, putting her hands on her hips and turning to regard Trevelyan with a critical look. "You better still be breathing and everything by the end of this, understand?"

Trevelyan grinned. "I will if you will."

"Deal!" Sera cried, seeming relieved at the answer, then turned to Cullen. "Right then, let's get a move on!"

Cullen's expertise in battle tactics and fighting was one thing to appreciate in reports, Leliana noted, but another to witness on the battlefield itself. The Commander marshalled his group together, gave them short orders, and with a rallying cry they were moving. Cullen, Blackwall, and the Iron Bull charged into the thick of the enemy, a wall of ferocious steel. Vivienne cast punishing wintry spells, raising walls of ice to block out advancing foes. Sera fired arrow after arrow with a rhythmic twang of her bowstring, the scouts joining her. Cole seemed to vanish into the air, though Leliana could catch glimpses of him weaving through the fray.

"Go!" Trevelyan shouted, and sprinted towards were the path beckoned.

Leliana tucked her bow beneath her arm and followed her, the heaviness of her armor slowing her somewhat (Leliana could shoot a target dead between the eyes, but it had been awhile since she'd ran like this). Their group had to duck and dodge as the lines of the fight around them ebbed and flowed. Trevelyan led the way, Cassandra at her side with her shield raised protectively. Solas was intent on their heels, firing arcane bolts at any enemies who strayed too close, and Varric trailed after him, focusing all his efforts on keeping up. The four of them moved like a well-oiled unit, their time spent on missions together showing through.

They ended up having to fight to reach the base of the path, but only a handful of forces, and between the seven of them they fell in a matter of minutes. Trevelyan hesitated, glancing back at Cullen's group, who were completely surrounded, but it was only for a moment and she was moving again.

The path was steep and narrow, allowing for only a single-file ascent. Though he was nowhere to be seen, when they were partway up Corypheus' voice rang out. "So you have made it this far, exchanging another's fate for yours. But there is a final obstacle before you reach me."

Of course, it couldn't be easy, Leliana thought. Ahead of her, she saw Dorian grimace.

A large shadow passed overhead. The dragon.

"Run!" Trevelyan urged. She started to call out something else, but it was drowned out in an ear-splitting roar.

A scant few feet in front of Dorian, a blast of fire slammed into the ground. The force of it was tremendous, dust and smoke flying, the shock sending Dorian, Leliana, and Morrigan stumbling backwards. As Leliana stared, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, the path in front of them crumbled and gave way, leaving a yawning hole separating the three of them and Trevelyan's group.

"Leliana!" Trevelyan had turned back, face a mask of anguish.

"We're all right!" Leliana called back, reassuring her.

"Bit too close to being fried to a crisp to be 'all right.' We're going to have to turn back, before our flying friend returns!" Dorian pointed out urgently, eyes trained on the dragon, which was circling back around.

"Go!" Trevelyan yelled, desperation threading her voice. Each second they lingered was another second without cover, another second vulnerable.

"They will be safe, Inquisitor," Morrigan said from somewhere behind Leliana. "I can match the dragon. Now matching Corypheus, that is up to you."

Leliana glanced back at the witch just in time to see her jump off the path. A hair-raising moment later, there was a second roar, and a purple dragon surged up, soaring through the air to collide with Corypheus' dragon in a tangle of teeth and claws.

"Maker's breath," Dorian muttered, momentarily distracted, watching the display with wide eyes.

"Trevelyan! We'll rejoin the Commander's forces. We'll find a way to you when this is over." There was so much more Leliana wanted to say, but they didn't have the time. "Remember-"

"We're getting out of this alive," Trevelyan promised. "All of us."

"Then I would suggest we move," Cassandra said, impatience creeping into her tone. The warrior gazed across at the spymaster. "Leliana. We shall meet you on the other side of this fight."

With that, they separated, the battle raging around them.

The battle lasted hours, or so it seemed. Leliana's arms ached, fingers of her bow hand numb despite her gloves. When she'd run out of arrows, she'd drawn her daggers, switching ranged for close quarters combat. Her ribs were sore from a sword strike that her chain mail had taken the brunt of, and her shoulder stung slightly where an enemy arrow had grazed it. But they had managed to thin the enemy to numbers evening their own, and the feeling of accomplishment dulled her pain to a background ache.

Leliana glanced at the sky. Corypheus' dragon had since stopped its attack, and Leliana knew with certainty it was dead. But that was all she knew, from down below, and the sense of being in the dark left her uneasy.

A clang of steel on steel focused her attention back on the battle. Cullen had locked swords with a Templar. Leliana readied her daggers, circling and moving in. Cullen finished him off first, bashing his shield against the Templar's chest and when he staggered, the Commander ran his sword through the vulnerable gaps in the Templar's armor.

Cullen nodded at her, opening his mouth to say something, but his gaze slid behind her. "The Breach."

Leliana turned. A jet of emerald magic tore through the sky, burying into the heart of the Breach. After a few long seconds, it faded away, and as Leliana watched, the tear in the sky narrowed, spiraling in on itself until it vanished completely. Around them, the few remaining ghosts, as Morrigan had called them, crumpled, their bodies turning to ash before they even hit the ground.

The sky-bound fortress that Corypheus had constructed teetered, and pieces of it began to fall to the ground.

"The Inquisitor!" "Trevelyan!" the advisors cried out at the same time. Exchanging a look, they ran towards it.

Debris thudded into the ground around them, rocks and chunks of earth. The main portion of the floating fortress was descending more slowly, but still Leliana could not quell the fear that blazed through her veins.

When it hit, the whole valley shook, knocking Leliana off her feet. Cullen groaned, and Leliana flinched as she rose, her hand coming to rest gingerly over her ribs. Bruised, Leliana mused, but no fractures. She peered through the cloud of dirt and dust that had risen from the impact.

They circled around, picking their way around the scattered rocks and ruins, searching. The remaining scouts, Blackwall, Vivienne, Sera, Cole, and the Iron Bull joined them, and together the group moved as one. They found a set of stairs leading up. Leliana stepped towards them, then paused.

There, standing on one of the top steps, was Trevelyan. She was glancing over her shoulder, looking at something behind her. Leliana drank in the sight of her as if she were parched. Trevelyan stood tall, brunette hair mussed slightly, flecks of blood dotting her armor, with no apparent wounds. Trevelyan had been victorious, and she was alive. The overwhelming relief that engulfed her nearly left Leliana in tears.

Someone called out to her, and Trevelyan turned. When her honeyed eyes found Leliana's, a dazzling smile broke across her face.

They were together before either thought to move, the distance falling away between them like nothing. Leliana wrapped her arms around Trevelyan's waist, pressing her close, breathing her in.

"You did it. It's over," Leliana said warmly. She turned her gaze to Trevelyan, blue eyes glistening. "You won. And you're…" Leliana shook her head. "You kept your promise."

Trevelyan reached up, cupping the redhead's cheek, and leaned up to bring their lips together in a slow, passionate kiss.

"We did it," Trevelyan insisted when they broke apart, voice breathy. "We won." She rested her cheek against Leliana's. "And there's nothing that could keep me apart from you."

They heard whooping behind them. Sera was jumping up and down, pumping a fist in the air with one hand while pointing at them with the other. "Knew it. Knew it!"

Cassandra snorted indelicately, sheathing her sword. "I do not think it was meant to be a secret." The warrior rolled her eyes when Sera's only response was to blow a raspberry.

Leliana felt, rather than saw, Trevelyan's lips twist into a smile.

"Corypheus is defeated, the Breach is finally closed, lovers are…lovingly reunited," Morrigan drawled, amber gaze drifting from the sky to the pair on the stairs. She raised a brow. "What is the phrase? 'All in a day's work.'"

Next to her, Cassandra stepped forward. "What do we do now?"

Trevelyan pulled away from Leliana, entwining their hands together as she looked down at her companions. "Now," Trevelyan's smile became a wide grin. "We go back to Skyhold, and throw one hell of a party."

This was emotional to write, just a little. I had started writing a version where Trevelyan died, but...

Ok, am I the only one who thinks fighting red lyrium ghosts would've been cool? The extra bit of angst of having your enemies be people you couldn't save, maybe even people you know? Haha, I like to twist the dagger a bit.

Anyway, thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed and/or favorited this story! It's the first story I've ever sat down and finished, beginning, middle, and end - so thank you for the motivation! I appreciate every single one of you so much! I hope it was even a fraction of as much fun to read as it was to write.