CHAPTER ONE

Eliana Lavellan used her staff, one-handed, on a training dummy with a fierce determination to put the damn thing through the dummy's face. With a loud crack, the staff gave way on the return swing and the blade flew into the nearby grass. She breathed deeply as she stared at the destroyed weapon. After a moment, she swore and threw the rest of the staff after the tip.

Her magic was intact, but her prowess with the staff was gone since the loss of her hand. That final searing pain had been her breaking point. By the time Falon had removed the damn key, El would have given anything to make the pain stop. She'd have given up the arm, her life, whatever it took to no longer feel like she was burning up from the inside.

"Bad day?" Iron Bull watched from the tavern door.

El huffed, then sat on the bench under the shade tree. "I can't get back what I lost, Bull."

"People seldom do," he said simply as he walked over and sat down beside her. Trust Bull to be too honest, she thought. "A staff is a two-handed weapon. What you need is training in something one-handed, work on your balance. Blades, I think."

"You think that will work?"

"Boss, I've seen you kill demons with your brain. You can learn a blade."

Eliana met the eyes of the most unlikely friend she possessed. Iron Bull was a refreshing, jolting breath of fresh air. The most important men in her life had lied to her one too many times. She had Bull and Cullen to believe in at least. Bull was tidally locked.

He never changed, and there was a time she might have considered that to be a bad thing. There's something to be said for certainty. "When do we start?"

"No time like the present, Boss." He stood patting his massive hands on his knees. "I'll go looking for a good blade. I'm sure we'll have something in storage."

"Tomorrow morning?" She wanted to do this. She needed to feel like herself again.

"Sure."

Putting her hand in her pocket, she made straight for Cullen's tower. He would be there today slogging through backed-up paperwork. As she approached the heavy door, the guards on watch greeted her one by one. She nodded to them all.

She knocked once then entered as was her habit. Once her eyes adjusted to what she was seeing, she said, "Oh, I'm so sorry!" She covered her eyes with her hand. Cullen had Falon bent over his desk. He'd made it to shirtsleeves, and El was fairly sure Falon had no small clothes under that skirt. "Sweet Andraste," she breathed closing the door again.

That was when she saw the Commander's new batman, Timmons approaching. He had a communique in his hand.

"You don't want to go in there," she told him in warning. He smiled at her. She hadn't seen Timmons much before this, but he always smiled even when he had little cause. He was like Dorian that way.

"They can't keep their hands off each other since they got the news."

"What news?" She said in confusion.

"Oh, damn. You don't know." He put up a hand, then knocked. "Everybody decent, commander?"

"Yes," Cullen growled from inside.

The batman held the door for her, and she took one last querying look at the man before she entered Cullen's den of iniquity He pulled his vest back on, but hadn't had time to button it.

He began as soon as she entered, "Inquisitor, I apologize. That was completely inappropriate."

She waved her hand. "It's perfectly fine, Cullen. I, too, know the temptations of a good sturdy desk. Where is Mrs. Rutherford? Upstairs mortified because her husband's a beast, I presume."

Cullen put one hand on the desk in question, his face red as a rage demon. "Just so, Inquisitor."

"I'll talk to her in a moment. What's this about news?"

Cullen cast a look at the Sergent. "I apologize. I assumed she would know."

Nodding, he said, "I hadn't had time."

Knowingly, Timmons replied, "You have been occupied with other matters, ser."

That got Cullen to unwind entirely. It was clear the two were friends as Cullen mumbled in a good-natured kind of acceptance, "Have done."

Cullen walked to the steps. "Falon," he called upstairs. "Do you want to tell her?"

Adorably pink, Falon stepped down a few steps on the spiral staircase. Her curls were arranged in unruly disorder on top of her head. They always looked that way, and now El wondered how much that had to do with Cullen. His elven wife always appeared traditionally dainty and sweet, but Falon had seen a fiercely protective streak in the other woman that she could hardly deny and wholeheartedly respect.

"Cullen tells me you have news, Falon," she said softly.

"We do, but first let me say, I'm so sorry for earlier."

El held up a hand to interrupt her moving closer to the steps. If she knew the girl, she knew just what bothered her the most. She would be less embarrassed and more concerned that she'd flaunted her love before the Inquisitor, her friend, who no longer had one.

Or, she supposed she shouldn't.

No one knew that he was still visiting her in dreams, pulling her into the Fade with him either on purpose or on accident. Looking stern, Eliana spoke quietly. "Truly, Falon. Your happiness brings me nothing but joy."

Falon smiled widely. Then, said, "I have a question then. Do you like children?"

"I suppose I do. I haven't been around them much." She threw the two men puzzled looks. They merely beamed at Falon. "Why do you...? Oh," she said. "Oh!"

Falon nodded, and El held out her arm to the girl. They were near in age, but worlds apart in experience. El thought of Falon as a young sister. She supposed that made Cullen a brother. "Baby?"

"Baby." Falon ran into her embrace. "I've never wanted anything more."

A horrid realization hit her. "The cupboard. Oh, no."

Falon nodded sadly. "I may never get out again. You have to come and visit me."

Behind them, she heard Timmons ask, "What cupboard?"

"Don't ask," Cullen growled.

"All right then," Timmons said. "Commander, if you'll walk with me, Charter's received a dispatch from the Approach." The two men started for the door when the Inquisitor stopped them.

"One moment, I want to hear that dispatch."

"Inquisitor..."

"Cullen." Her voice was the voice. The one she used when she wanted her way and creator help the one who got in her way. Cullen nodded at Timmons.

"Very well, ser. The Cultists have been spotted. We believe they are on the move."

El demanded, "Are they still in the Approach?"

"Only just," Timmons answered. "Charter wants to dispatch riders before end of the day. Two days hard ride and she thinks we could catch them before they got to the plains."

"In the exalted plains, we'd have Orlesian aid."

Cullen spoke up. "Since the council, we are attempting not to strain our Orlesian alliance. There is some pressure on the Empress to distance herself from us."

El nodded. "Of course there is." She stood straighter. "I'll take the Chargers. We'll leave tonight."

Everyone said her name at once with the exception of the Sergent who only watched her carefully. "You aren't in fighting shape." Cullen ran his hand over his neck as he detailed all the reasons she couldn't.

"I'm going, Cullen. If you feel I should step down from this position, now is the time to say so." It was the harshest she'd ever spoken to him in or out of a war council meeting, and some of those arguments could get heated.

He looked as if she'd struck him.

"That is not what I meant at all."

Timmons cleared his throat. "Ser, permission to interject?"

"Let's hear it, Timmons," Cullen waved a hand with a frustrated sigh.

"The Inquisitor is a mage, after all, Ser. What she needs is a bodyguard to protect against close-quarters fighting. I volunteer, ser."

Eliana hated the idea, but it was a good one. She was hobbled in melee, and she knew that. There was no sense in pretending it wasn't true. "What's your specialty, Sergent?" She asked the question as if she hadn't guessed.

"I'm a bladesman, Inquisitor. A dualist, as well."

"Orlesian?" she asked.

"In the beginning, Ma'am. I left Orlais as a boy."

His voice had only the slight purr of that thick Orlesian propriety.

"That explains the accent and the specialty. Will that satisfy you, Cullen?" El turned what everyone called her "dragon eyes" on her commander. He waved a hand at her.

"I suppose that will have to do. Andraste, who's in the cupboard now?"

El met his eyes regretting that they were falling out over this. He was the closest friend she had since... She shook her head. "Yes, but you only get put in there for bad behavior. Timmons, would you mind telling Bull the plan? Between the two of you, can you ready the troop?"

He saluted her. "Of course, Inquisitor."

He left without another word. Cullen said to his retreating form, "I do believe my batman is running away."

Eliana laughed at Cullen. "He's probably worried about what sights await him in this office. But then, he's not married to Falon, so..." Her voice trailed off, and impulsively she hugged the commander of her army.

Pressing herself against his chest and meeting Falon's troubled gaze, she said, "I'll be careful. I promise." Falon nodded, and Cullen wrapped both arms around her and squeezed.

She hadn't been held since...

Eliana stepped back and left the tower quickly before she did the unthinkable. Tears were the last thing one wanted in an Inquisitor.

She pulled on her riding gloves, then was forced to readjust her camp bag on her shoulder. In the courtyard, she could hear the mounts jangle and the soldiers tromping through mud. "Chargers! Horns up!"

It was routine when the Inquisitor traveled with the Chargers. In truth, it made her feel like one of them that she was included. "Horns up!" they all shouted out in the afternoon air.

Timmons hurried to take her camp bag and stow it on the back of her saddle. Her red hart whinnied hello as El reached into her pocket and pulled out an apple for her. "Good girl, Finril."

"Are you ready, Inquisitor?" Timmons stood at perfect attention waiting for her answer. She nodded. Few people were this formal with her.

"Let's go. Ready, Bull?"

"Always ready, Boss." He road a Ferelden mount up to stand over her as she hadn't mounted yet. "Here's your blade, Inquisitor."

She took the sheath and blade from Bull and secured it for the time being on her mount. She'd ask Timmons to familiarize her with the set up once they camped. It was her understanding he would be in the tent beside hers for the duration of the trip into the Approach.

She wasn't entirely sure why that made her uneasy, but it did.

They rode out of the courtyard a party of fifty men, the Inquisitor, and her own personal Orlesian rogue.