The events after the Inquisition had wandered through the Frostbacks to find Skyhold had surprised Ellana even more than even being hailed as the Herald of Andraste in the first place. Suddenly, the castle was unfolded, bursting to the seams with people coming and going, fixing the walls, hanging up their heraldry, putting things here and there. It was like a small city contained within battlements, sitting on an icy mountain like a crown on a king's head, and suddenly Ellana was the reigning queen. Everywhere she went, strangers bowed and called her "Your worship," in passing, merchants and ambassadors and leaders all came to see her, wanted something from her, needed something from her. It was Haven twofold, only know she had a sword nearly bigger than her to prove her authority. It was all... extremely strange.

But that wasn't even what surprised Ellana. As the right hand of her clan's Keeper, she as at least partially prepared for a leadership role- though over nothing as large as the Inquisition. What surprised her was the way that Cullen looked at her when she had a chance to speak to him in the courtyard.

"You stayed behind. You could have.. I will not allow the events of Haven to happen again. You have my word."

His voice was not serious and decisive as he always seemed to be in the war chambers, but gentle, soft, vulnerable. He allowed what appeared to be emotion to seep into his words. It was a side she had never seen of the usually all business Commander.

What had she done to earn it?

He had been her advisor several times in the events leading up to Corypheus' attack on Haven. She had begun to rely on his advice, and depend that every task she gave him would be efficiently handled. They had enjoyed smalltalk a few times even, as he told her anything she wanted to know about the Templars, but up until that very moment, he had been nothing but business, nothing but order and command and service.

Did she dare wonder if he admired her? Or even.. have feelings for her? No, Ellana, who stood on the battlements, staring out at the vast icy valley below them, shook her head at that thought; that was silly of her to imagine, a waste of her time and an abuse of professionalism. She was a Dalish mage, an elf, a mere hunter who would most likely go back to her clan after all of this was over. She was on borrowed time, on borrowed authority, hell, even the lovely velvets on her back were probably borrowed- and she was hardly anything like the rest of the Inquisition's council. Cullen was once a Templar, and now commanded an army; Leliana had been with the Hero of Ferelden and had served the Most Holy; Josephine was a daring Antivan politician, socialite and ambassador; Cassandra was even Nevarran royalty; what made Ellana think that she belonged here, or even measured up to the rest of the council? She was a plain hunter. An Elf, a mage, a mere woman who not six months ago was running nearly barefoot in the Dales. She was nothing. And she was astounded.

"Your Worship."

There it was again.

Ellana turned to see a messenger approach her. He gave her two sealed notes and a report, and word from Josephine to see her in the council chamber when she was available. She was grateful for something else to do, if only to distract her from puzzling thoughts of Cullen, and his face, and everything else about him that left her completely dumbfounded.