Chapter Text
Josephine was the last to arrive, having been in the middle of negotiations with some faction or other of the Orlesian court. She took her place at the table, and Cullen passed on the report.
"As our resident fade rift, time travel, and red lyrium experts, I wanted you to attend to provide any insight into what this new 'red rift' might be." He addressed Solas, Dorien and Varric, the latter of whom shook his head.
"If I'm the best we can do for resident red lyrium expert, we're in more trouble than I thought."
"Everything helps," Leliana said, "It may be you know more than you realise."
"In any case, I imagine the better handle we can get on this before the Inquisitor's return, the better chance she has of closing it and ending the threat." Cullen agreed.
"Do we know if there are several red rifts, or is this the only one?" Josephine asked, taking a small red counter and placing it on the map, amidst the hundreds of green counters already in place. Due to the scale of the map, it looked unnervingly close.
"I have not had any report of red rifts from my network," Leliana replied, frowning, "although its proximity to Skyhold could represent some form of attack specific to us."
Solas spoke up, "I am not sure what it could be. In all my time traversing the fade I have never come across red tears in the veil. In fact the veil invariably manifests itself as green when it is torn. I have never seen otherwise."
"The same with time travel, Dorian agreed. "Since Alexis was using the fade - and the breach - to manipulate time, the portals he used were always green as well."
"That leaves red lyrium," Varric grimaced. "Why, every time I think it can't get any worse, it suddenly does? Maker curse me for finding the damned stuff in the first place."
"So it could be red lyrium?"
Varric looked at Solas, "Do you think combining red lyrium with the magic required to tear open a rift would cause it to change colour?"
He shrugged, "I could not say. I think we need to inspect this red rift ourselves to find our answers."
Cullen nodded. "Take Cassandra and Iron Bull with you. If it acts like a normal rift it may start spewing demons at you if you get too close."
"The Inquisitor is likely to be back tomorrow afternoon," Leliana said, "So if you can, try to return before then."
As it happened, the five companions had not returned before Evelyn, Blackwall, Sera and Vivienne stomped through the gates. Vivienne looked disgusted - she practically threw her reins at the waiting soldier before storming off, muttering to herself about baths, civilization, and the need for all bogs to be filled in with sand.
Sera, indefatigable as always, chuckled as she slapped Blackwall on the shoulder. "Pint first? I'm more thirsty than dirty, and that's sayin' something!"
"Thanks, but I think I'll be hitting the baths as well. This mud gets everywhere and I don't want to get barred from the Herald." And so saying he followed the Enchanter up the steps.
As Evelyn shook her head to decline, she caught sight of Cullen hurrying down from his tower office steps and immediately went a bright shade of pink.
"Shit!"
Sera followed her gaze and immediately broke in to raucous laughter. "Oh, Inquisitor! Really? Jackboots? This is perfect!"
"Shut up! Distract him or something - I stink of bog mud and horses-"
"Sorry, Ev, but this I've gotta see. Hey, Cullen!" Sera waved manically, "Guess who's back!"
Cullen, who had by now nearly reached them, gave a confused half wave, the enthusiastic greeting having put an expression of bewilderment on his face.
"Er... hello, Sera. Glad you made it back in one piece. Inquisitor? There's something you need-" as he reached them he recoiled involuntarily at the stench emanating from both women. "Ah. Perhaps you would like to... wash... first? I can leave the report on your desk. I, er, I'll be in the tower when you're ready." He gave an awkward bow and retreated the way he had come.
"Cor, your face! If I had an egg I could cook it!"
"Shuttup." Evelyn growled through clenched teeth.
Over an hour later - really, the bog mud was almost impossible to shift, and mixed with gore from putrid corpses made it worse, and had required two refillings of the bathtub - Evelyn had wrapped her hair back in a braid, dressed in new beautifully clean clothes, and read the report Cullen had left in her room. Now she was standing outside his, report in hand, wondering if it was possible to blush any more than she already was. At least she didn't stink of dead people marsh this time but Maker couldn't she catch a break?
She entered at Cullen's terse invitation to find him standing, head bowed, over a sheaf of papers spread across his desk.
"I could come back later if you're busy," she said hesitantly.
Cullen jumped and looked up. "No. Sorry I was just... it doesn't matter." He smiled slightly. "Do you feel better?"
Evelyn grinned, relieved he hadn't tried to ignore her earlier embarrassment. "Maker yes! If I never see another marsh again it will be too soon."
"Well, the detachment of troops you rescued arrived at the castle yesterday, looking tired and smelling worse. But alive, thanks to you. Well done."
She was blushing again. Dammit. "Thanks."
"Along with a rather confused looking Avvar warrior. Your doing, I assume?"
"I meant it when I said we can't be picky in our choice of allies. The breach in the sky is everyone's problem."
"I agree. And he has already proved invaluable-"
Cullen broke off as a scout entered the chamber. "Missive, Commander." He placed a report in Cullen's outstretched hand and left.
Evelyn smiled. "Would you like to take a break? Get out of this room for a bit?"
He hesitated. "I... would like that. A walk on the battlements?"
(At this point the main storyline kicks in, until Wicked Eyes Wicked Hearts)