RP: Cullen (cullen_fadewalk)

[evelea_fadewalk]

Evelea had stared at that book for hours, pouring over the entries, the banter, the quips and doodles and jibes looking for clues. Her head ached and her eyes crossed and finally she'd admitted defeat. She wasn't going to be able to discern the verisimilitude of handwriting that she'd never seen.

The ones she recognized were worse.

She didn't know when she'd started to pray. She had rarely felt the need, never wanted to turn the Maker's gaze on her. She was a mage, and well, everyone knew the Maker had more than enough opinions about that. But somewhere as she crept along empty halls and peeked into abandoned rooms she'd started to whisper tiny, ardent pleas for help.

From anyone.

When she pushed open the door off the cloister garden her eyes focused up, fixing on Andraste's face. The short huff somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "A statue certainly isn't going to fix this, but thank you for trying."

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[cullen_fadewalk]

Cullen came to pray every night.

It was a habit, a ritual as comforting as putting on or taking off his armor. Even locked in his cell, he and Cassandra had prayed together--taking comfort in the old songs, the words they'd said so often they almost didn't have meaning anymore.

Even here--maybe especially here--he slipped away from the armory to say a few words to the Maker. When he reached the door and realized someone was already inside, however, he pulled back with a quiet, "Pardon. I didn't mean to intrude."

And then when she turned, he saw her. And his blood ran cold. "You," Cullen said.

[evelea_fadewalk]

Like most Circles, Ostwick had its own economy of torrid serials, Antivan picaresques, and Tethras novels. Evelea had read them, just as the other apprentices had, but she'd always rolled her eyes when the heroine's heart thrummed in her chest like the wings of a bird beating against the bars of its cage.

The hand that clutched to her own chest in that moment proved her wrong. Looking over her shoulder at the voice in the doorway, cursing herself four kinds of fool for being cornered in the one room in this whole ridiculous nightmare castle that seemed to only have one door, and it was Cullen.

A smile flickered and died on her lips at the chill his voice gave her. "Commander?" Uncertain, smudged with weariness, her eyes widened, her whole body suddenly tensing. Should she fear that he might be a demon? Or that he was (once, no longer) a Templar?

[cullen_fadewalk]

Cullen could count on the fingers of one hand how many times he'd used his Templar abilities to cripple a mage. He tried to be sparing, humane. Even when he'd been wrapped up and bitter in the wake of Kinloch, he'd tried.

But now, here, seeing her? He immediately jerked up a hand and snarled, "Silence," yanking away her mana as if he had been practicing for this all his life.

And then, before the demon-tongued brute could get in another word, he flung out his hand and slammed his most powerful holy smite straight at her.

[evelea_fadewalk]

Blue eyes the color of summer sky widened in shock as the Silence washed over her, a ragged gasp at how suddenly hollow she was. One hand went up, fending or pleading, but the smite was already crashing into, through her, and it carried her to the ground, tumbled like a dropped doll into the candles at Andraste's feet.

She lay there, mouth opening and closing, trying to get her wind back, to ask him why. Her marked hand clawed aimlessly, scrabbling in the dried flowers petals and hardened drips of candle wax at the statue's base.

[cullen_fadewalk]

Cullen didn't take his eyes off her, hand still lifted--the other gripping the hilt of his sword hard enough to make the knuckles bleed white. "I need help in here!" he bellowed out the still-open door, hoping that someone was around to hear him. Then, moving carefully, he crossed the small space and crouched by her side.

His face was still bruised and hollow from torture and systemized starvation, a new, fresh scar just beneath one eye, as if someone had pressed a blade there to threaten to gouge him through. His hands actually shook as he flipped her with quick, jerking moves, pinning her arms behind her back. A quick glance about the room brought no obvious way to bind her.

"Near the end," Cullen said, voice a rough, painful husk, "Cassandra and I wondered if you were perhaps possessed. I prayed for it. At least then you were a demon instead of-- But you're here now, and you're no demon. You're just a Common murderer."

[evelea_fadewalk]

The changes to Cullen's face arrested Evelea's attention, her eyes widening further and further until they showed white all the way around, like a hart set to bolt. It wasn't until he was hidden from her sight, pressed on her stomach on the floor, that it even occured to her to struggle, but she was empty. No strength, no magic, nothing.

"Please," she whispered, still struggling to fill her lungs entirely. 'I didn't... I didn't." She gasped in a rough breath and managed stronger, "This isn't real. This is the demon. Cole! COLE!" Her voice didn't carry, not enough air yet for that.

[cullen_fadewalk]

Cullen went very still, big hands still closed around her wrists. She sounded so--

She sounded like she used to, before she showed her true colors. She sounded like the woman who teased him about vows of chastity and curled against his side as he carried her through the snow and smiled breathlessly at him as he confessed the worry and...hope...that he still burned with shame to think about.

That was the worst part. That nearly flayed him to the bone.

"If you're not her," Cullen said, the strain clear in his voice as he lifted her to her feet, wrapping her wrists behind her using fabric torn from the end of his own coat, "I will be the one burning in the void. But until Cole can tell me otherwise, you are the woman who killed Cassandra Pentagast, you are the woman who committed me to death, you are the woman who scoured the mages and enslaved the Templars and broke the crown of Orlais for your own gain, and I will not let you go free even if I have to die to take you under."

[evelea_fadewalk]

The litany of crimes he leveled at her struck Evelea like physical blows. Her shoulders hunched down as she swayed on her feet, the silence and smite leaving her limbs still aching with pins and needles. She let out a small broken noise, shaking her head. "You're wrong. You're wrong." This was still the demon's trap, Envy's twisting maze, meant to reveal her, meant to break her.

If she didn't resist the Commander, would Envy get a greater foothold? If she fought him would she die here, and leave her body a husk for it to take? What he spoke of, those were Envy's words, Envy's plan. It took her a moment to speak as he bound her wrists and pushed her toward the door, stumbling and tripping, trying not to fall. She shuddered that he should catch her because the memory of Cullen's strength should not be tainted this way. Finally she choked out, "At least tell me where this is meant to be?"

[cullen_fadewalk]

And catch her he would, if she did fall--even as he hated himself for that weakness.

"I'd think you'd recognize the Fade," Cullen said, eyes scanning the courtyard for assistance even has he kept a careful eye on her.

[evelea_fadewalk]

"Well if it was only the Fade I'd have little to worry about." Some familiar tartness returned to her tone. Evelea could be a touch... brisk when she was annoyed. She was beyond annoyed, but she had only her words at the moment, denied her magic, the mark on her hand... her hands generally. She bit her tongue, considering how much to bother asking. Wouldn't this shade of the Commander just lie for its own purposes?

The tension in the hand on her arm, the weight of his presence, his fear, his hate rattled her and finally the words came loose. "But what is this place? This castle? Where in the void are we supposed to be?"

(OOC: Just wanted to make sure... she was taken by Envy before the fall of Haven, so she's never seen Skyhold, right?)

[cullen_fadewalk]

Cullen hesitated, though he didn't let go.

She didn't know?

Maker. Was this the Inquisitor from before she had revealed her true nature? The thought made his stomach twist.

"Skyhold," he said. "Some unknown magic brought us here from across worlds and timelines. If you are not the Inquisitor I know--if you are not that, that monster--I--"

Doubt was crushing. Impossible.

"You will be given a fair trial," Cullen said. "I will not resort to the mockery you showed Cassandra and myself."


(OOC: Yep! I may have goofed along the way? If so, apologies! Do you want to bring someone in to help? I assume you don't want your character to sit in a cell. Though Cullen is happy to be your jailer for awhile if you do.)

[evelea_fadewalk]

"Skyhold." Evelea spoke the word as if it were foreign, and she shook her head at the explanation. She twisted her head to try to see Cullen's face, remind herself the harsh lines, scars that were unfamiliar to now carved there.

She couldn't feel her hands, her feet, suddenly cold. "A trial. A trial by whom, to what end? Who judges me? A demon's constructs? Curious spirits? Where do we find a tribunal fit to weigh your evidence in the Fade?" She halted, her spine suddenly stiff. "By Andraste's blood, if I don't answer your charges because I can't will you torture me? You may as well start now. I swear, I swear to you, Cullen, I have done you no wrong." Except if what he said was true, and she was from some other moment, and this was real, then she had failed. Failed to win against Envy, failed to return to him-- to Haven and the Inquisition and the fight.

That knocked the breath from her, bent her shoulders and she jerked her face back front. No, if she had already failed, this was cruel.

(OOC: No worries, you just mentioned him carrying her in the snow a few posts back, and I wanted to make sure I hadn't gotten it wrong. Of course, we can backstory him carrying her around for some completely unrelated to the fall of Haven reason. :D

As far as bringing someone else in, I'm down for that. I'm also totally okay if he throws her in jail. I'll put up a public rp post where people can come talk to her while she's locked up. Maybe we can lure Cole's player back out of hiding to vouch for her. :) )

[cullen_fadewalk]

"I do not believe in torture," Cullen said in a quiet, slightly strained tone as he marched her into the keep and toward the cells. "I am not the Herald of Andraste. I leave that in her all too capable hands."

(OOC: If this works for you, I think I will say Envy took over but some of the game events played out as Envy sort of laid low and gathered power and its bearings for a time. So flirting more with Cullen, the battle, and Skyhold. If you see me treating Cole like Cullen knows him, though, slap my hand because I've clearly forgotten Envy would never have allowed Cole near.)

[evelea_fadewalk]

No, no he wouldn't. Because Commander Cullen was a decent man. Who had scowled at his recruits, held his men to strict standards, and been kind enough to indulge an impertinent former Enchanter all her questions as she prodded him to see if he would frown or snap or crack a smile. He'd looked surprised when she brought him tea later as he went over supply reports in the freezing air of his command tent.

That was the day before they'd left for Therinfal, and he'd smiled at her. Now he hated her.

The cells held a chill that seemed deeper than flesh, the strange air of the Fade hardly having any temperature at all. She shivered. "Do you remember the day you asked me how I felt about the title of Andraste's Herald?"

(OOC: Oops, yes that totally works. Poor Cullen. Strung along by Envy!Herald. :( Okay, right, Cole wouldn't have been there. That makes sense. Just like Eve has never met Dorian. I should make a continuity fact sheet for myself. Heh)

[cullen_fadewalk]

"I do," he said quietly, checking to make sure the Silence was holding. It would take some concentration, but with Alistair to help him, he could keep her from accessing her powers until something could be decided.

He hoped.

The cell was clean enough, though spare. Cullen unbound her hands...then hesitated and tugged off his coat. He laid it aside for her, in case she grew cold, and pulled back to close the cell door. He stood close, haunted, hurt eyes on her.

He couldn't seem to look away. Cullen cleared his throat. "Has your opinion changed, then?"

[evelea_fadewalk]

Evelea folded her arms, hands cupping her elbows and moved away from the door, docile enough. She watched him remove his coat with enormous eyes, gone glassy with a sudden rush of tears. "Don't--" She fell silent when her voice caught in her throat, and she looked at the garment then up at him, where he seemed more simply a man.

The first time they'd spoke around the War Table, Josephine and Leliana and Cassandra all there, and she'd looked at Cullen as he'd chuckled at her answer. "It is rather--" She cleared her throat to steady her voice, letting it drop lower. "It is rather more than unnerving now, Commander."

She blinked, a tear dashing off her lashes and onto the stone. "It hurts you every time you say it, and I find I loathe it."

(OOC: If you have anything to add, please do, otherwise, I'll open a public thread for Inquisitor in Jail tomorrow after I get home from work.)

[cullen_fadewalk]

"I want to believe you," Cullen admitted. "Even after everything. I want to believe your tears."

He looked down, away, clearing his throat. "If you are innocent, you won't be here long," he promised--then, unable to bear more, he turned on his heel and left her.

(OOC: Done! Sad thread is super sad.)