A Candle in the Darkness (A Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfiction)

The Dark Shadow

28 Solace, 9:41

This was far from the first time Cullen had prepared himself to die. It was practically getting to be a habit. And he didn't mind, necessarily—this life had not been so wonderful that he would regret laying it aside to go join the Maker, at least, not overmuch. What he regretted this time was that everything they had all worked toward in Haven would die, too, and with it, possibly the last hope for peace in Thedas.

It was only with reluctance that he had given the order to fall back to the Chantry on the appearance of the great dragon. Left to himself, he'd have stood and fought to the last drop of blood rather than run. But the men who fought under him had given as much as they could—they couldn't fight this dragon, and they deserved at least a chance to live. He imagined none of them were quite as prepared to give up their lives as he was.

Most of Haven was gathered in the Chantry, other than the Herald and the small team she had out with her, and they had been safely inside the gates of the village before he came to the Chantry.

She was there when he came into the main hall, and Cullen tried to stifle the immediate flood of relief he felt. He wasn't surprised to see that she had collected as many stragglers from the village as she could; she cared about the people who made up the Inquisition. He had seen her making the rounds of the village, talking to the people, something neither he nor Leliana nor Josephine had ever managed to find time to do. Cullen knew Antonia didn't think she was an important part of the Inquisition's leadership, but she didn't see the way people looked to her to decide what to do—and not just because of the mark on her hand.

"Herald," he said, drawing her attention. "Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us."

The strange spirit Cole, kneeling beside the injured Chancellor Roderick, spoke up. "I've seen an Archdemon. I was in the Fade, but it looked like that."

To Cullen, whether the dragon was actually an Archdemon or not was beside the point. Either way, it was going to destroy Haven. Time enough to worry about what it was after they decided how to deal with it. "I don't care what it looks like," he snapped. "It's cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven!"

"The Elder One doesn't care about the village," Cole said. "He only wants the Herald."

Antonia seemed as exasperated by the boy's hints as Cullen was. "If you know why he wants me, just say it."

"I don't. He's too loud. It hurts to hear him. He wants to kill you—no one else matters, but he'll crush them, kill them anyway. I don't like him."

Desperately, Cullen tried to make a plan. This was what he was good at, why they had put him in command of the Inquisition's armies. He was supposed to be able to find a way to fight this thing. But Haven was largely indefensible, surrounded by snow, and they were alone against an invading army they simply didn't have the force to stop.

"Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable." The words felt like acid on his tongue. He reached for the last weapon left. "The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide."

Antonia frowned. "We're overrun. To hit the enemy, we'd bury Haven."

"You're right, we would. But we're dying anyway. At least we can decide how—many don't get that choice." He hated to have to say such a thing to someone so young and promising, with her whole life ahead of her. She was only about ten years younger than he was, but he felt as though he'd lived an age in those ten years ... something he reminded himself of every time he looked into her big brown eyes and found himself wanting things he should have known better than to think of.