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“Both.”
At their surprised looks she continued, “I have no reason to trust any of you. When both the Right and Left hands of the Divine live while she perishes, it lends a foul feel to the heart.”
“What are you insinuating?” growled Cassandra.
“That either you are responsible, extraordinarily incompetent, or very very lucky,” snarled Trysraine, matching Cassandra’s attitude. “And I don’t believe in luck.” Turning to gaze at Leliana, “But, as I said earlier, you’re the spymaster. I’m certain you can enlighten the Seeker.”
All eyes turned to the spymaster.
Leliana’s lips thinned for a moment. “Knight Captain Trysraine Trevelyan, promoted to Knight Commander. Await orders, begin recruitment should conclave fail, prepare for Exalted March.”
“Maker’s breath,” breathed Cullen. “When were you going to tell me.”
“Well, ideally the orders would have come through you, but you were off playing guard dog,” said Trysraine, irritably rubbing her temples.
“Enough, you two may discuss that later.,” interjected the Seeker. “For now, Commander, what do you remember of the events leading up to the destruction of the conclave?”
Cullen blinked in confusion before realizing the Seeker was not addressing him.
“Nothing,” Trysraine said flatly.
“Is this another of your attempts at secrecy?” Leliana asked sarcastically.
“Hardly Lady Nightingale. I simply speak the truth. I recall nothing of the day’s events,” the young woman’s voice dropped away.
“Are you certain you’ve tried hard enough?” Leliana’s voice was like ice.
“Well, to be honest Spymistress, between apparently walking out of the fade, being unconscious for three days, waking to an irate seeker, traversing through the mountain pass, fighting demons left and right, closing a tear in the veil, falling unconscious once more. No, I really can’t say I’ve found the time to try and think harder,” Trysraine snapped.
An awkward silence descended, thickening the tension in the room.
“You are right,” Cassandra said quietly, “forgive us, it has been trying for us all.”
“You are taking her side?” Leliana was incredulous.
“I am taking no one’s side. It is not uncommon for some memory loss following trauma. We should allow her some rest before we begin questioning her. I suggest we rest for the day, and begin our deliberations again tomorrow.” Cassandra smirked suddenly, “and perhaps give the Commanders a chance to get reacquainted.”
“Yes, I would appreciate that,” agreed Cullen.
“Indeed,” whispered Leliana to Josephine.
Cullen looked up from the map in confusion at their knowing looks “That’s not… I mean, Maker…” Cullen blushed and spluttered at the tittering ladies.
Trysraine sighed through her nose, “Yes, I would appreciate some time to myself and my husband.”
“Then it is decided,” Cassandra concluded briskly and left.
Trysraine and Cullen nodded at the other two women as they too departed. A silence yawned between them, broken only by the creaking and click of the closing door. Both stared idly at the map between them. She mapped in her head the many paths she had taken through Thedas, while he focused on specific points and places. That was how it had been for so long, she would leave while he would stay, but after Kirkwall, their elopement, her pregnancy and confinement, his resignation and reappointment, everything had been turned on it’s head.
“How did we get here?” Cullen asked quietly.
She gave a soft snort, “Well, if you believe the Chantry ideology, the Maker set us on this path and it was inevitable.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then we’re all screwed, because somehow shit keeps getting worse and even the Maker doesn’t know what’s going on.”
Cullen looked up at that, the Trevelyans were renowned for their steadfast faith in the Maker. But right now, Trysraine looked tired, defeated. Even during his weakest moments under Meredith, when he had slipped from the path and she feared he was losing himself, she had never looked like this. He walked around the table, and pulled her into a tight embrace. In response she grabbed hold of his shoulders, and for a long while they stood together in silence.
At last she pulled away, eyes downcast. Cullen reached out in attempt to raise her gaze to meet his, but she purposefully moved away to a nearby bookshelf, she she pretended to peruse the titles. “You must decide the image we are to present to your troops,” she said in the quiet.
Cullen thought about it. It would not be good for his image if it looked as though he were consorting with the only suspect to the destruction of the conclave. But, she was his wife. In addition, her reputation was divided, was she in fact the enemy to be blamed, or the Herald of Andraste as he had begun hearing around camp. That did not change the fact that she was still his wife. She was a Templar, that would mitigate some of the negativity surrounding her, but not much thanks to the marauding faction that had splintered off. Worse still, if it were known that she was his wife, there would undoubtedly be accusations of favoritism regarding her treatment should she remain accused.
A sudden chill ran down his spine, Varric. The Dwarf knew her, but he wasn’t the only one. Several of his Templars had followed him from Kirkwall, a great many of them knew her as well. But no one knew of the elopement. No one save the chantry mother they had convinced to join them. So her reputation as a Templar would by now be well known among the people. Roderick would likely make an attempt to turn it against her, but the Trevelyan name retained weight and would protect her for a while. But, beyond the other women that had been gathered in this room, for Trysraine’s sake and their child, not a soul more could know about their marriage.
Cullen turned to her, she was now idling with the pewter markers and didn’t look at him, her officer’s face had set in. He realized she had already come to the same conclusion and with a heavy sigh he nodded. The Commanders exited the small chantry. Wordlessly they made their way to the training grounds, where arms crossed they stood in identical poses, frowning at the training men and women.
One of the overseeing officers turned to see the Commanders, a look of surprise passed quickly over his face before he made his way towards them.
“I dinae expect to see ye here in the open lass.”
Trysraine smiled warmly at the man, “Rylen! I might have known Rutherford would convince you to join him.”
A quick look of understanding passed between the three before Rylen answered, “Aye lass, t’weren’t a hard sell though.”
Trysraine expression grew sad, “I understand, we are all the poorer for your departure.”
Rylen gave a rueful laugh, “I much doubt that lass.”
It did not escape their notice that the sounds of mock battle had lessened, nor the increased volume of whispers.
A deep chuckle from behind drew their attention.
“Well, I gotta say Chanter, I was surprised to see you with the Seeker. First you were the mad heretic that blew up the Conclave, now they’re telling me you’ve been promoted to the Herald of Andraste, ” Varric grinned, “though, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Description
“Both.”
At their surprised looks she continued, “I have no reason to trust any of you. When both the Right and Left hands of the Divine live while she perishes, it lends a foul feel to the heart.”
“What are you insinuating?” growled Cassandra.
“That either you are responsible, extraordinarily incompetent, or very very lucky,” snarled Trysraine, matching Cassandra’s attitude. “And I don’t believe in luck.” Turning to gaze at Leliana, “But, as I said earlier, you’re the spymaster. I’m certain you can enlighten the Seeker.”
All eyes turned to the spymaster.
Leliana’s lips thinned for a moment. “Knight Captain Trysraine Trevelyan, promoted to Knight Commander. Await orders, begin recruitment should conclave fail, prepare for Exalted March.”
“Maker’s breath,” breathed Cullen. “When were you going to tell me.”
“Well, ideally the orders would have come through you, but you were off playing guard dog,” said Trysraine, irritably rubbing her temples.
“Enough, you two may discuss that later.,” interjected the Seeker. “For now, Commander, what do you remember of the events leading up to the destruction of the conclave?”
Cullen blinked in confusion before realizing the Seeker was not addressing him.
“Nothing,” Trysraine said flatly.
“Is this another of your attempts at secrecy?” Leliana asked sarcastically.
“Hardly Lady Nightingale. I simply speak the truth. I recall nothing of the day’s events,” the young woman’s voice dropped away.
“Are you certain you’ve tried hard enough?” Leliana’s voice was like ice.
“Well, to be honest Spymistress, between apparently walking out of the fade, being unconscious for three days, waking to an irate seeker, traversing through the mountain pass, fighting demons left and right, closing a tear in the veil, falling unconscious once more. No, I really can’t say I’ve found the time to try and think harder,” Trysraine snapped.
An awkward silence descended, thickening the tension in the room.
“You are right,” Cassandra said quietly, “forgive us, it has been trying for us all.”
“You are taking her side?” Leliana was incredulous.
“I am taking no one’s side. It is not uncommon for some memory loss following trauma. We should allow her some rest before we begin questioning her. I suggest we rest for the day, and begin our deliberations again tomorrow.” Cassandra smirked suddenly, “and perhaps give the Commanders a chance to get reacquainted.”
“Yes, I would appreciate that,” agreed Cullen.
“Indeed,” whispered Leliana to Josephine.
Cullen looked up from the map in confusion at their knowing looks “That’s not… I mean, Maker…” Cullen blushed and spluttered at the tittering ladies.
Trysraine sighed through her nose, “Yes, I would appreciate some time to myself and my husband.”
“Then it is decided,” Cassandra concluded briskly and left.
Trysraine and Cullen nodded at the other two women as they too departed. A silence yawned between them, broken only by the creaking and click of the closing door. Both stared idly at the map between them. She mapped in her head the many paths she had taken through Thedas, while he focused on specific points and places. That was how it had been for so long, she would leave while he would stay, but after Kirkwall, their elopement, her pregnancy and confinement, his resignation and reappointment, everything had been turned on it’s head.
“How did we get here?” Cullen asked quietly.
She gave a soft snort, “Well, if you believe the Chantry ideology, the Maker set us on this path and it was inevitable.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then we’re all screwed, because somehow shit keeps getting worse and even the Maker doesn’t know what’s going on.”
Cullen looked up at that, the Trevelyans were renowned for their steadfast faith in the Maker. But right now, Trysraine looked tired, defeated. Even during his weakest moments under Meredith, when he had slipped from the path and she feared he was losing himself, she had never looked like this. He walked around the table, and pulled her into a tight embrace. In response she grabbed hold of his shoulders, and for a long while they stood together in silence.
At last she pulled away, eyes downcast. Cullen reached out in attempt to raise her gaze to meet his, but she purposefully moved away to a nearby bookshelf, she she pretended to peruse the titles. “You must decide the image we are to present to your troops,” she said in the quiet.
Cullen thought about it. It would not be good for his image if it looked as though he were consorting with the only suspect to the destruction of the conclave. But, she was his wife. In addition, her reputation was divided, was she in fact the enemy to be blamed, or the Herald of Andraste as he had begun hearing around camp. That did not change the fact that she was still his wife. She was a Templar, that would mitigate some of the negativity surrounding her, but not much thanks to the marauding faction that had splintered off. Worse still, if it were known that she was his wife, there would undoubtedly be accusations of favoritism regarding her treatment should she remain accused.
A sudden chill ran down his spine, Varric. The Dwarf knew her, but he wasn’t the only one. Several of his Templars had followed him from Kirkwall, a great many of them knew her as well. But no one knew of the elopement. No one save the chantry mother they had convinced to join them. So her reputation as a Templar would by now be well known among the people. Roderick would likely make an attempt to turn it against her, but the Trevelyan name retained weight and would protect her for a while. But, beyond the other women that had been gathered in this room, for Trysraine’s sake and their child, not a soul more could know about their marriage.
Cullen turned to her, she was now idling with the pewter markers and didn’t look at him, her officer’s face had set in. He realized she had already come to the same conclusion and with a heavy sigh he nodded. The Commanders exited the small chantry. Wordlessly they made their way to the training grounds, where arms crossed they stood in identical poses, frowning at the training men and women.
One of the overseeing officers turned to see the Commanders, a look of surprise passed quickly over his face before he made his way towards them.
“I dinae expect to see ye here in the open lass.”
Trysraine smiled warmly at the man, “Rylen! I might have known Rutherford would convince you to join him.”
A quick look of understanding passed between the three before Rylen answered, “Aye lass, t’weren’t a hard sell though.”
Trysraine expression grew sad, “I understand, we are all the poorer for your departure.”
Rylen gave a rueful laugh, “I much doubt that lass.”
It did not escape their notice that the sounds of mock battle had lessened, nor the increased volume of whispers.
A deep chuckle from behind drew their attention.
“Well, I gotta say Chanter, I was surprised to see you with the Seeker. First you were the mad heretic that blew up the Conclave, now they’re telling me you’ve been promoted to the Herald of Andraste, ” Varric grinned, “though, I can’t say I’m surprised.”