I had a Dragon Age dream last night - woke up and wrote this on my phone, and found it this morning with no recollection of writing it! Weird. It's got a tiny bit of Cullen so thought it might be worth a post. Clearly I am playing this too much and rather overthinking things! Maybe I am turning into Cole!
She hated fighting the red templars, even knowing that it was a necessity. It was too close to home, too close to Cullen. To what he could have become, had he not left Kirkwall to join the inquisition. Evie spun away from the warrior she was targeting, leaving Cassandra to strike the finishing blow. The move took her into the path of the behemoth, and she cursed, rolling below the swing of its huge fists, glimpsing the sneer of its grotesque face. Had this beast really once been a fresh faced initiate, eager to take his vows, excited to serve? She smashed the stealth powder onto the ground, the silvery powder flying up and settling on her body. She whisked away from the group to the nearest archer, tumbling past him and springing up behind him. Hesitated. A split second. She hovered, unseen and unheard. Had the man he once was been in there? Desperate but unable to prevent the red madness from descending, crying out unheard to be spared, or no, perhaps even crying out for death? The man raised his bow, the string creaking as the tension mounted, elbow lifting as he aimed. A fraction in time. Could he even remember drawing that bow on a training field, eyeing a target, competing with friends, comrades, fellow young templars sworn to serve and protect? His fingers twitched, and Evie slammed her twin blades down into his back, through to his lungs. She heard his dying breath. She hoped he found peace. For a moment, she despised the person she had become. She thought of Haven, of the people at Skyhold. Of Cullen. She threw herself back into the battle.