From the personal Journal of Cullen Rutherford

Kirkwall - 9:34

Anders thumbed his nose at me today. He's moved in with Hawke, which I know because he took great pains to work that into the conversation when Hawke came to the Gallows today. The man almost strutted. I imagine he thinks I'm frothing at the mouth to clap him in irons and drag him off to the Circle, and I can't because he's the Champion of Kirkwall's lover.

He's partly right. Meredith will not order me to do so because he has Hawke's protection...but even if she did, I would tell her that he is a Grey Warden and thus their problem. I might contact the Warden Commander in Starkhaven and tell him to come get his wayward Warden, but that's as much as I'd do. In truth, I hope she never gives the order. Anders' clinic does a lot of good in Darktown. I would hate to see it go. I would vastly prefer it if there was even one templar there to keep an eye on things, though. And while I'm wishing, I'd like a pony.

Haven - 9:41

"They don't really roll cheese wheels in Ostwick, do they?" Cullen asked Lady Miralys as they walked to Haven's small tavern. Josephine's report included mention that the Hinterlands was producing a decent amount of food again, now that they'd pacified the region a bit, so there would be a greater variety of food rolling into Haven soon, including eggs and cheese. The Hinterlands normally produced a great deal of food for Ferelden, so Cullen hoped that they'd be able to bring the entire region under the Inquisition's banner. Lady Miralys had quipped that they could start having 'genuine Ostwicker cheese rolling tournaments'. He'd heard of the tournament, but he had assumed that was a tall tale told to people new to the Marches, so he had to ask.

"They really do. Mother never let me or my sister participate - too unladylike -but Gareth certainly did. Maxwell too, until he went to the Circle," she said. "We used to bet on the outcome, though. People greased up the wheels to make the cheese roll faster - did all kinds of things to sabotage each other, too. It's almost a blood sport," she said. Cullen started to laugh, but from the look on her face he wasn't entirely sure she was joking.

You take your cheese seriously in Ostwick, then," Cullen finally said.

"Oh yes, it's serious business. There were always fights. And sometimes the winner would cry like a baby when his cheese wheel was cut into and consumed during the festival that would follow the competition."

"Now, that I do not understand. Cheese is meant to be eaten."

"True, but when you've spent time perfecting your technique...well, apparently the cheese ceases to be food and starts to become a friend," Lady Miralys said

"If you say so," Cullen answered with a smile and a shake of his head. They'd reached the tavern by that point, so he opened the door for Lady Miralys and ushered her inside.

"What is this?" Miralys asked as Cullen sat a tankard in front of her.

"Ale," Cullen responded.

"Oh, thank you, Commander Obvious, that helps so much," Miralys retorted, which made Cullen smile.

"Fereldan ale," Cullen said.

Miralys looked at her tankard dubiously. "I've heard that Fereldan ale is made from dog piss," she said. Cullen stifled a groan. He'd heard that comment so many times in Kirkwall.

"Nonsense. There aren't any dogs in camp," Cullen said, taking a drink and wincing, "although this is closer to it than some I've had," he admitted.

Miralys looked at Cullen with her eyebrows raised. "Did you just make a joke?"

"Of course not. I have no sense of humor. Ask anyone," he responded. It was a pathetic attempt at a joke, although he was pleased that she recognized that he'd made the effort. Most people did not.

"Now that, I believe. That people say that, I mean," Miralys said.

"So...Blades of Hessarian," Cullen prompted. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his reputation for grimness.

"Right, back to the serious business," Miralys said with a sigh. "I should have asked at the gate what the token meant. I assumed it was a parley sign, or maybe their insignia, or something. Stupid," Miralys said, taking a drink from her tankard and shaking her head.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. Yes, you should have asked, but Cassandra and Bull could have asked, too," Cullen said, taking another drink of the awful ale. The second drink was not as bad - perhaps the ale had numbed his tongue. He hated to admit it, but Marcher ale was better….better than this swill, at least. He'd have to ask Josephine about getting some better ale in from the bannorn. Surely some of the breweries were operating now that there was a significant Inquisition presence in the Hinterlands, or they might be willing to start again, if they had some protection. He added that thought to his mental list and turned his attention back to Lady Miralys.

"And then once I figured out what was going on...I should have tried harder to talk to him. Found out if there was a reason….I don't know," Miralys said, making a face.

"From what I've been told, their former leader was little more than a highwayman. I think you did everyone a service by killing him," Cullen said. Miralys looked up at him in surprise.

"It was Harding who actually killed him," she protested.

"Be that as it may, ultimately you are responsible. You were leading, after all," Cullen said.

"I suppose. I still say it was Harding's success, though."

"That's to he good, actually. Victories should be shared," Cullen said.

"Failures, not so much?" Miralys ventured.

"Blame, not so much," Cullen clarified, "If you share the victories and give praise where it is due, then your men will be more willing to own up to their mistakes when they make theml. But when you point the finger of blame…"

"Ah, yes, that makes sense. First instinct is to deny an accusation. Well, in the spirit of owning up to one's mistakes, I should have named a champion when we went up against the Blades," Miralys said.

"Perhaps. I'm not sure they would have accepted anyone other than 'The Herald of Andraste', Cullen said with obvious emphasis, which made Miralys take a big drink of ale.

"You have no idea how much I hate that name," she said after she put down her tankard.

"Oh, I think I do, if the look on your face is any indication. That could be the ale, though. I'm starting to wonder if this actually is dog piss."

"It is awful, isn't it? Although I do have to say, the country doesn't smell like wet dog, like I'd been led to believe."

"I heard that all the time in Kirkwall, at least until my accent faded," Cullen said.

"Wait, you're Fereldan? I thought you were from Kirkwall," Miralys said.

"No, I'm Fereldan, born and bred. I'm from Honnleath. Little fishing village in the foothills of the Frostbacks - only about a half day from here, actually."

"Have you been to see your family, then?"

"They aren't there anymore. Honnleath was hit hard by the Blight. They evacuated and ended up in South Reach. It's not far from Denerim."

"Ah. They all survived, I hope?" Miralys responded.

"Yes, they are all well, although I haven't seen them since I joined the Templars. It's been...more than twenty years. I get letters, though."

"You've been a Templar for twenty years? You don't seem that old."

"Was a templar. I left the Order when I joined the Inquisition. But no, I have't been a full templar that long. I was thirteen when I joined as a recruit. I was eighteen when I took my vows and became a full templar," Cullen said. Maker, had it been so long? It seemed like yesterday, sometimes, although sometimes it seemed like more than an Age had passed.

"What's it like, being a templar?" Lady Miralys asked.

"Isn't your sister a templar?" he responded, which made her look a bit embarrassed.

"Yes...but...we aren't close. We haven't done more than say hello at family gatherings since she joined the Order," Miralys responded.

"Ah...well, I'd hardly call my experiences typical. I was in Kirkwall when the Chantry exploded, and at the Ferelden Circle when it fell, as you know. I don't have a lot of good memories of being a templar," Cullen found himself saying. Maker, where did that come from? He never talked about this.

"Surely it wasn't all bad? My sister seems happy enough, although I suppose I haven't talked to her enough to be sure…."

"No, it wasn't all bad. The camaraderie was good. I had friends. Still do. I was very glad when Knight Captain Rylen accepted my offer to join the Inquisition as a lieutenant. He was invaluable in Kirkwall."

"But?" Miralys prompted.

"I...the Chantry has not done right by mages...or templars. I still think mages need oversight and protection. But there has to be a way to do it that doesn't involve caging them. Perhaps...I don't know, a mixed military service, or a healing clinic with Templar support," Cullen said, warming to the topic. "There was a mage...the mage who blew up the Chantry, actually. He had a healing clinic in Darktown...that's the worst part of Kirkwall...he did a lot of good there. It's one of the reasons I let him be. I knew he was down there. But...he wasn't hurting anyone, or so I thought. Sometimes I wonder...well, it doesn't matter what I wonder. I'm sorry, you did not come here to drink bad Fereldan ale and listen to me lecture you."

"Actually, I did, if you'll remember," Miralys said, which made Cullen flush, "I don't feel particularly lectured, though. I've enjoyed this," she said, which made him flush even harder. He was trying to figure out what to say to that when she continued.

"You really don't think I cocked that whole situation up?" she asked.

"I really don't. You walked away from it uninjured, and we have more allies than we did. You need more training…"

"Ah, I knew there was a catch."

"There always is," Cullen agreed.

"Well, I already knew I needed more training, so even that isn't so bad. This idea of yours for a mixed military service. We should do that," Miralys said.

"You think it's a good idea?" Cullen asked.

"I do. We already have mages and templars here. And you're the commander of the army...I think you probably have the authority to make it happen if you want to," she said with a smile.

Cullen answered her smile with one of his own. "I suppose I do," he responded.

"You'll want to choose mostly younger ones, maybe with a few of the...more moderate veterans, at least at first," Miralys said.

"I had thought of the older mages and templars. They'd be steadier. Why do you think the younger ones would be better?" Cullen asked. He lifted his tankard and drained it, but made no move to order another. It really was terrible ale. He'd speak to Lady Josephine about securing a better supply.

"Well, we have more of the younger ones, for one thing. Too many of the older ones are died at the Conclave. But...the younger mages and templars haven't had as long to be set in their ways," Miralys said.

"Ah, I see. They'd be more adaptable," Cullen said. She had a good point.

"Exactly. You can't have all young people, though, because 'young' and 'stupid' seem to go so well together," Lady Miralys said, which made Cullen smile at her. He'd smiled a lot during this meeting, actually. She had that effect on people, though. She could even make the elven mage smile, and he was so dour that Varric called him 'Chuckles'.

"Not always. You're young, and I'd hardly call you stupid," Cullen said, which made Miralys flush.

"Well, thank you, Commander, but I am not all that young. And I had my moments when I was," Miralys said.

"As did I. I take your point. I'd like Knight Captain Rylen's advice on the group, though, so it will have to wait until he returns," Cullen said.

"I've not met him, but from what you've said, he seems a good man."

"The best. Now, if you've finished that abominable ale, I have another task for you,"

"Am I going to like this?" she asked, warily.

"Perhaps. We're going to see Harritt. He has new armor for you."

"Ooooo, new armor, it will be like shopping!" Miralys said, an eager grin lighting her features. She jumped up and rushed out of the tavern without once looking back. Cullen paid for their drinks and followed, albeit at a more sedate pace. He probably didn't need to be there when her gear was fitted, but he did want to make sure that all was well with the armor he'd ordered made for her. It was a She was their only hope of closing the Breach, after all.

A/N: This chapter was edited and uploaded while I was on a flight to Las Vegas. :) I just had to tell you that because wifi on the airplane - zomg technology! Also, I will be in Vegas for a week, so you might not see anything from me for longer than usual.

Nearly 100 reviews! Thank you all, so very much, for reading and reviewing. It means more than I can possibly say.