The Enchanter and The Lion

Chapter 9 - The Inquisition Reborn

It was two days before Cassandra came to her in the small cabin that she had awoken in; her quarters while she was in Haven, it seemed. She had tried to busy herself by helping the apothecary, Adan, with poultices and healing elixirs while she waited. Her forearms were sore from all the elfroot and spindleweed she had ground.

"Are you ready?" Cassandra asked. Maeve nodded and stood from the small desk where she had been reading. She threw on her cloak against the chill of the mountain air and followed the Seeker to the Chantry. 

"A moment?" she asked as they entered, and Cassandra nodded. She went to kneel briefly before the statue of Andraste again. 

Cassandra's eyebrow was raised as she rejoined her. 

"What?" she asked. 

"Nothing. I just did not expect you to be a devout Andrastian." 

Maeve chuckled. The Trevelyan's were extremely devout Andrastians, and the younger of her four older brothers would likely have joined either the Templars or the Chantry as was tradition for noble families with extra heirs. 

"Despite my position, Cassandra, I do believe magic is given to us to serve mankind. Where I disagree with the Chantry is that I don't believe that service requires imprisonment." She watched the Seeker out of the corner of her eye. She was taking a risk admitting such things, but was pleasantly surprised when Cassandra remained thoughtful and introspective. 

The mark briefly flared as they continued down the aisle towards the council room that she had met them in previously. She glanced down at it in annoyance and clenched her fist around it. At least it's just tingling and not the searing, burning pain like before, she thought. 

"Does it bother you?" Cassandra stopped and asked, glancing at her and then the hand. 

"Not for the most part," she shrugged. "There are moments of discomfort, but nothing as bad as before." 

"That's good," she said as they resumed walking. "What's important is that the mark is stable, as is the Breach. We have time, thanks to you. Solas believes a second attempt to close the Breach will succeed - provided the mark has more power. He believes we need the same level of power used to create it in the first place, and that will not be easy to come by."

"Pouring massive amounts of magical energy through a conduit on my body that we don't understand? Sounds like fun," she said sarcastically. 

Cassandra favored her with a half grin, "Let's see how long you can keep that sense of humor."

She pushed the door open in front of them and Maeve followed her through. The room was much as she remembered it - brightly lit with torches and candles and a large table in the center. 

This time, though, a map of Thedas was spread across it with various markers strewn about. She raised her eyes from it and met the honey brown ones of the Commander on the other side of the table. Her breath caught briefly in her throat. His posture was relaxed, but his left hand rested ready on the pommel of the sword at his hip. Even through the armor Maeve could tell the broad shoulders and thick arms were all muscle. His light brown hair was cut short, but had a gentle curl to it. The strong, squared jawline and five-o-clock shadow around the well trimmed goatee were all Ferelden and a small scar extended above the right side of his lip. He really is quite handsome, she thought.

"You've already met Commander Cullen Rutherford, leader of our forces," Cassandra saw her gaze and introduced them. 

"It was only for a moment on the battlefield, but I'm pleased to see you survived," he said the ghost of a smile on his lips.