Scene Packs From Other Stories

④.①●DA:I

The Inquisition was at the peak of its power. The Breach had been sealed, the rifts closing one by one, and the people of Thedas looked to the Inquisition as a beacon of hope, for the time being. But the calm before the storm was fleeting, and darkness always loomed on the horizon.

Gemmelarke Trevelyan, the brash yet loving Inquisitor, had grown to rely on her trusted companions, each a pillar of strength in their own right. But none held a place as dear in her heart as Commander Cullen Rutherford. Their love had grown from a simple camaraderie to a deep and passionate connection.

One evening, Gemma sat in her quarters, a mixture of parchment and maps scattered across her desk. She had been reviewing reports from the field, delegating tasks, and making plans for the future of the Inquisition. But a sense of unease gnawed at her.

It had been weeks since she'd received a letter from Cullen. The commander was leading a mission to the Frostback Basin, an expedition to secure vital resources for the Inquisition. It was a dangerous mission, but she had trusted her commander's judgment. She had every reason to believe that he would return safely.

But as the days turned into weeks, that trust had begun to waver. Gemma's thoughts were consumed by the silence, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. She had tried to focus on her duties, her responsibility to the Inquisition and nearly all of Thedas, but the absence of the man she loved was a constant ache in her heart.

As she sat in her dimly lit quarters, a soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Gemma glanced up to see Leliana-her dear Spymaster, standing in the doorway, a solemn expression on her face.

"Leliana, what brings you here?" Gemma asked, her voice laced with anxiety.

The Spymaster stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Inquisitor, I have news from the Frostback Basin," she said quietly.

Gemma's heart leaped into her throat. "What is it? Is Cullen all right?"

Leliana's gaze was stoic as she met Gemma's eyes. "I'm afraid Commander Cullen is missing. The last report our scouts received from him was two weeks ago, and they haven't been able to establish contact since."

Gemma felt as though the ground had been ripped from beneath her feet. Her hands trembled as she clutched the edge of her desk, her knuckles white. Gemma nearly rambled on as if trying to relinquish all the terrible outcomes that could have led to this.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "No, it can't be. He wouldn't just disappear like that. He was looking for resources, there was no immenent danger... how-?"

As the news spread throughout Skyhold, the atmosphere grew heavy with a sense of dread. Gemma's companions and advisors gathered to discuss the situation, their faces etched with concern and sorrow. Morale was at its absolute lowest.

Dorian paced back and forth, his usual wit replaced by somberness. "Cullen has never been one to vanish without a trace. It's not like him at all."

Varric leaned against a wall, arms crossed. "We should send out a search party. Find out what happened."

Blackwall nodded in agreement, his voice gruff with worry. "The Frostbacks are notorious for their harsh climate and blizzards. If he's missing, it can't be good. We may not have many clues to go by."

Gemma's closest friends were equally unsettled. Sera, usually the embodiment of impulsive bravery, was quiet, her brows furrowed. Even Cole, the young spirit, couldn't hold his fearful tongue.

"Seeking answers, searching through time's dances, one step away from despair. You clench the truth, the proof, a plea in parchment's grasp, a desperate gasp for his return. Inquisitor and her Inquisition, both trying to fit the pieces, missing, just like him."

The words from Cole, macabre as ever, echoed in the room, casting a solemn shroud over Gemma. She stared at the parchment in her hand, the longing to act, to find him, etched onto her face. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the paper tightly, her eyes glancing from Blackwall to Dorian, seeking solace in their expressions. But they mirrored her own fear and uncertainty, realizing that the beloved commander might be gone for good.

As Gemma gazed at Cole with yearning in her eyes, she wondered if the spirit could offer any insights into Cullen's fate. She hoped, against all odds, that Cole might somehow feel a trace of the commander's presence, providing even the tiniest thread of assurance that he was alive.

Cole's gaze met Gemma's, and for a brief moment, their connection felt stronger than ever. His eyes, once filled with mystery, now held a hint of determination. "I'll try," he whispered, his voice soft but determined. "I'll listen, reach through the void, and hold the memories of him, hoping for a glimmer, a whisper."

It was a small promise, but in the midst of uncertainty, it was a lifeline. Gemma nodded in gratitude, understanding that sometimes, even the smallest possibility could be enough to keep hope alive.