There had been no word from Henley and Sorin in the two weeks since they left. She didn't expect word due to the secrecy of the mission, but she wished she had some news of their progress. It was the only hope she had to cling to, yet her only lifeline was plagued with uncertainty. So many things could go wrong, from Henley and Sorin dying to Ryker finding out, the whole plan was risky. What else could she do? The problem was, the only thing she knew how to do was fight, it was what the world had molded her for. Throughout her life, people sought to tear her down for one reason or another. She had seen rock bottom numerous times, and it was becoming a familiar place of rest of late. In recent memory, she had seen it after red lyrium poisoning, the explosion of the Conclave, and the defeat at Haven. Each time, through the pain and trauma, she picked herself up with or without help.
Her current predicament was no different. Ryker was an infection; her unsuspecting and all too willing mother was his first victim, followed by her and Ilara, though they had no choice. Had he not involved Ilara, things would have been so much easier. Though no fault of her best friend, Evelyn had become subject to the ex-Templar's abuses once more. Her only way to fight it was to endure it, and she was nothing if not resilient, but at what cost?
In the past weeks of hell, she had been dressed up like a trophy and paraded around like a prized Ranger. The illustrious Lord Einar Armand had done what others failed to do and claimed the Inquisitor's hand; A marked hand that was Thedas' only salvation, and one that was bound to be forever remembered in the annals of history. What history would fail to note, was the sudden arm jerks into a private enclave to be threatened for stepping out of line or the quiet beatings to tame her fiery spirit, though he preferred if Ilara was there to patch her up afterward. The physical and mental abuse was taking its toll and it had not gone unnoticed.
Josephine and Leliana were quick to question the loss of life from her personality. She was living in a husk of her former self, looking every bit the Inquisitor, but acting as if she had been made Tranquil. Cassandra too, looked at her good friend with apprehension, unsure as to how to help her. She'd drag her to the training grounds to spar, but she'd tire quickly at having the fight beaten out of her daily. The hardest people to deal with were her brother and Cullen. As Cullen recovered from a bout of terrible withdrawl - which he had tried to hide from her - she found the two of them in each other's company more than she would've liked. Their eyes never left her, picking up every faked smile, every wince from her invisible bruises, yet they said nothing to her. A reckoning was coming, she just wasn't sure how soon.
Until then she held on to anything to keep her going. It's all she could do to get through the day. The year, the month, or week didn't matter, just the today. If she could end it standing and fighting, it was a victory over Ryker. It was one more day Henley and Sorin had to destroy their phylacteries; one more day Ilara was safe; one more day she had simply survived. But from within the deep pit of darkness, the one Ryker and the red lyrium had dug in her mind, her demons were always watching and waiting for her to slip.
The first time they had tried to snare her was on the training grounds one afternoon, sparring with Blackwall. Normally, she enjoyed her sessions with the aging Grey Warden, but the recent troubles involving his brethren had sobered him, contributing to her somber state. Bull and the Chargers had been on hand watching and cheering when she absently let her barrier go, taking a devastating hit to the head. She remembered seeing it coming, but subconsciously in her mind, she wondered if such a hit could make her forget the past week. Coming to after what she was told was a few minutes, flat on her back and surrounded by people, unfortunately, she still remembered.
Another time, she had met with Dagna, Ilara, and Leliana to follow up on some of the research they were conducting. Upon the table were several potions that they had improved upon to make them more potent in the field. Most were restorative, but there was one acid for coating blades and arrows. Her mind blocked out the conversation as she picked up the dark flask, holding it up to the light. The liquid within looked so inviting, so harmless.
As she brought it to her lips, the Nightingale's hand quickly reached out stopping her, "Inquisitor, that's the wrong one. Here." She slowly switched the bottles, yet Evelyn's gaze longingly looked after the former glass. Leliana eyed her, shaking herself from her trance-like state.
"Oh, I'm not sure what I was thinking."
"I don't think you were," Dagna innocently implied, as Leliana gazed over to Ilara. The mage quickly covered for her stating that the concussion received from Blackwall must still be affecting her.
The only surprising reprieve came at night, as Ryker left her alone and unmolested. He knew the time after dinner was risky, as she had all manner of visitors, he discovered, from drunken Chargers to the scholarly Solas and everything in between who came to see her when she retired from her Inquisitorial duties. However, it was short-lived as night terrors gripped her each time she slept. It was all becoming too much and one night, she had finally hit her breaking point. Losing herself to the demons of her mind, there was only one person in all of Thedas who kept her grounded. Despite the risk and in the cover of dark, she donned a cloak and fade stepped through the keep as if she were a specter. When she reached his office, all was quiet except for the creek of the wooden floorboards above someone alerted to her presence. Evelyn climbed the ladder, finding Cullen asleep in his bed and his sentry on duty.
"Dorian."
"Sneaking around in the dark? So cliché." She pushed her hood down as she stood from the ladder. Her expression was one of pure exhaustion, but the kind that lacked peace rather than rest. "If you're here to speak with him, I'm afraid he needs his beauty rest. Hopefully, this is the last night he'll need my assistance." He frowned in concern looking at his charge, but a deep inhale as he stood dispelled it.
"That's fine, he shouldn't hear what I have to say anyway." She wrung her hands together anxiously, as if ready to jump out of her skin.
"Quite the paradox. This is why I make sure never to fall in love."
"Don't tell him I was here." They shared a pained look before he mounted the ladder he slid down to sit at his desk.
Alone with Cullen, she knelt beside the bed, since he was rolled on his side. Her eyes swept up his face taking in the rejuvenating effects of sleep. He looked younger when the stress and weight of his symptoms were forgotten and the creases of his skin were smoothed. His lips were just parted, allowing a stream of warm breath out at her. Though his skin was still pale, lacking its warm underglow, it was no longer clammy or feverish. A gentle finger traced his face from his forehead down to his stubbly chin.
Tilting her head to the side to match his angle, a soft smile graced her lips, having already relaxed from his presence alone, "If only things were as simple as this, as innocent as your sleep. I came here because I'm lost. It's like I've been thrown into a pit and forced to dig it deeper every day. The light above is fading and there was a time when you always saved me from getting too deep. I fear now that I won't be able to climb out." Though her voice was soft and steady, she caught a twitch in his fingers.
She caressed his face with her whole hand now. The faint green glow illuminated his face casting half in a shadow. She sighed, "What I wouldn't give to go back to South Reach with you, live simply with your family. You probably think I'd hate that, but that's far from the truth." She chuckled lightly, "You and I are getting too old for this shit - the fighting, the politics. When this is over, let's just run away. Let the others sort things out, we've given as much blood and sweat to this cause as any, and the least they can do is leave us alone… if there is an us. I suppose it's just a pleasant fantasy now after everything I've done. I know that your trust, once broken, can never be regained, so I have no expectation of forgiveness." She sat back on her heels, "I don't know what I expect or if I will even be able to get out of this mess." Against her better judgment, she pressed a lingering kiss on his forehead. The simple act flooded her with a plethora of warm feelings as if she had dipped herself in a hot bath. She tingled all over as every fiber pulsed back to life. Closing her eyes, still close to him, smelling his various scents, Evelyn took one more moment to savor the sensation of their closeness.
Opening her eyes, she stepped back and the further away she got, the colder and darker it became. Sliding down the ladder, she met Dorian's eyes for a second before fading back through Skyhold to her chambers. Lying in bed, she tried to relive the moment in her mind's eye, and though it fell short missing the sensory details, it was enough to invoke a peaceful slumber.
The next morning, she awoke with a start, "Good morning, Inquisitor." Ryker sat with his leg crossed and fingers tented gazing over at her from the day bed. "I hope I didn't startle you."
Rubbing the sleep frantically from her eyes, she sat up, "How did you get in here?"
"Pff, I paid off your servant, how else? The same way I found out who you visited last night." Though bathed in bright morning light, his face darkened. "I told you to stay away from him. And I think I've been rather lenient as of late, so now I must exact punishment."
"How is it you expect obedience from a woman you've tormented for years? On what grounds do you dare to demand such respect?" Unsure of where the sudden fire sparked from within her, something, perhaps her visit to Cullen last night, had rekindled some of the old Evelyn back to life.
Getting up from the bed, she gracefully stalked towards him, one foot after another. Releasing a mind blast spell that sent him flying off the couch and to the floor, then again into the wall. "You call me an abomination, yet I don't actually think you know just how much of one I am. Go ahead, silence me, Templar, if you can." Snarling with a crooked smile at the challenge, he obliged her. The first merely took her breath away as she took another step toward him. "Pathetic." The next blast hit her harder, staggering her but still she came at him, "Is that all you've got!" Visibly enraged now, he threw every last ounce of his augmented strength behind it. She winced, having to take a knee, but rose again to her feet with fire dancing at her fingertips.
She laughed at him wickedly, "Look at what the rebel Templars and their red lyrium have made me into, not to mention the gift from Corypheus." The mark flickered to life and she held it out to him. He backed away reluctant to show her weakness, yet he was fearful having now witnessed the full extent of her corruption. She let the grip on her mana go, standing before him with a serious countenance, "Remember, that while you may have the means to command me now, one day when all my enemies lay dead, you'll be next." The Inquisitor walked over to her half-eaten breakfast shoving the muffin in her mouth.
Ryker was beside himself, looking like he wanted to rip her apart with his hands. Continuing to eat her breakfast with an unamused stare, he left with one final warning, "I will be back to collect my punishment. You've gone too far this time, darling." The ex-Templar's look could've killed as he descended the stairs and slammed the door. She blinked and exhaled, knowing that he'd make good on his threat, and she'd regret having ever provoked him. Yet, there was only so much she could take, and after her one-sided talk with Cullen, it had emboldened her. It had made her remember who she was and what had been taken from her. Ryker's blackmailing had cost her dearly, but she was determined in the end to make sure he knew one way or another just how far she'd go to see him burn.
***
Cullen awoke with renewed vigor, having had Dorian stay with him one last night to keep him all but sedated. After a terrible few weeks of fighting off his relapse, it had left him exhausted physically and mentally. Having returned from a productive workout in the ring and hearty breakfast, he was making up the work from the past weeks that he had set aside. The day was going smoothly when he had an unexpected visitor trespass in his solitary tower.
"Commander Rutherford, I don't suppose you could spare a moment for a fellow ex-Templar?" Though he asked, having not yet heard his answer, Lord Armand stepped inside already familiarizing himself with his office. He slowly walked about the room studying everything with his hand clasped behind his back, "I had hoped to speak with you about a troubling message I received from a Templar by the name of Raleigh Sampson. Have you heard of him?" Cullen picked his head up from his desk at the name, "You are familiar with him then?"
"Of course. We served together in Kirkwall for a time. He was my bunkmate until he was expelled from the Order. Now he serves Corypheus, and you had contact with him?"
"Yes, months ago he wanted me to help supply his forces with food, which I refused. The Inquisitor is well aware. I have no desire to serve others anymore, especially those who don't pay. When I refused he tried to persuade me by offering to give me a more powerful form of lyrium. I wonder if you know of it?"
"Red lyrium, yes I am… familiar." Everyone, especially Templars, knew about it after the events in Kirkwall. Something in the way the man walked and his choice of words had Cullen on edge. Aside from the fact that this was the man responsible for taking Evelyn away from him, while in Kirkwall, Cullen had developed a better knack for when people were trying to deceive him, and the more he watched the lord's easy-going manner, the more suspicious he became.
"I refused it, but I find my curiosity getting the better of me. How exactly is it more powerful?"
Ever weary of the corruption of the addiction to lyrium of any kind, he chose his words carefully, "Whether it is more powerful, I cannot say, we don't know much about it yet to safely say. However, we do know it is inherently evil. You would do well to avoid it for the sake of your sanity, especially if you're still taking regular draughts of lyrium." He knew the man was, sensing it on him anytime he was in the same room as him. Knowing he wasn't getting it from the Chantry, he must have contacts within the Carta supplying him, like everyone else these days.
"Evie, I mean, the Inquisitor has told me the same." The man wore a grin that was hard to read. It was genuine, but his eyes made it seem as if there was something hidden behind it. "She said the Red Templars corrupted her magic with it. Bent her to their will."
"I'm surprised she'd speak of it. It was a particularly traumatizing experience for her. Though I don't remember her doing their bidding, it was more of the lyrium that sought control of her, but she fought it."
"I see. I suppose her strong will saved her yet again." A thoughtful faraway look had his eyes glazing over. "Well, she wanted me to be aware of the effects of it on her mana being that I will soon be her only sentinel, to whom her wellbeing will rely on completely." He flashed the same goading smile again. His anger peaked slightly, but he suppressed it, remembering that the man had no idea of Evelyn's former attachment to him, so it had to be a coincidence. What reason would she have to tell him? "From one Templar to another, I wanted to know if there was anything specific I could do to help her."
"Not that I'm aware. The Inquisitor is one of the most responsible and experienced mages I've met, she knows the dangers and has been monitoring her mana since losing control of it."
"You mean after she took red lyrium?" Cullen eyed the man suspiciously, saying nothing. "Right, of course. It's hard to keep up with all her issues."
Armand half-heartily laughed, but the former Knight-Commander saw no humor in it, "Regardless of leaving the Order, as former Templars, you and I owe it to her and other mages to keep our oath of protection for the sake of the mages and of the people of Thedas. The Inquisitor's "issues" must be taken seriously and with compassion, for they were not done to her on her own volition. She was forced to drink the red lyrium and now lives with the consequences of it. Between the mark and her increased power, she's somehow keeping it all in tight control through her will alone. Surely, you feel the struggle and the way her magic spikes at times?"
"Of course," he said with a frown before it relaxed, "I only meant to say that our training didn't exactly cover it. I didn't mean to upset you, Commander. I had no idea a man with your reputation had such a soft spot for mages." Cullen hated when he heard that of his reputation and he found himself clenching his jaw tight, but his gut was telling him not to engage this man. Seeing him shift uncomfortably, Armand continued, "Apologies, it is not a weakness. I was just pleased to hear my Evelyn is surrounded by those who do not judge her for what she is."
The Commander cleared his throat, his Evelyn, he couldn't help the jealousy as it surfaced. His hand gripped the pommel of his sword a little tighter. Thankfully, a messenger arrived with a field report out of the Emerald Graves about the red lyrium smuggling operation there, "If you'd excuse me, my lord, this requires my immediate attention." He turned his back on the man pretending to read the report, though all the while listening for his exit. When he was at last alone, he placed the report on his desk and headed for the Herald's Rest where he'd no doubt find Owayne. Something was indeed amiss.