I Found a Reason

Chapter 5

Tatum awoke with a start. Her head flooded with memories as fast a rate as the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She sat up and looked around the room she was in. A small crackling fire warmed the room. Herbs and bottles lined the shelves on the walls. The sweet smell of blood lotus and soap were crisp and welcoming to her senses.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to remove the pain and sleep from them. She let out a grunt and swung her legs off the bed. What's happened? How long have I been out, she thought as she continued to gaze around the room. Everything still felt like a dream or a terrible nightmare she couldn't find herself waking from. Rifts, Breach, Knight-Captain Cullen: all stuff that couldn't have been lined up at the same time for. Hence, nightmare.

Tatum heard a gasp from the floor. Her eyes fell to the small hunched over body before her. She cocked her head, unable to figure out what the person was doing.

“Umm,” Tatum began with to get their attention.

“The Herald of Andraste!” the woman's voice murmured full of awe.

“Excuse me?” Tatum queried. “Who?”

“You're the Herald of Andraste, my lady,” the woman replied, her eyes slowly lifting up to hers. She scurried to her feet and took a couple of steps away. “You're the one that closed the rift at the Temple. Lady Cassandra said that we are safe now for the time being.”

“Well, that's good,” Tatum grumbled. She glanced out the window behind the elven woman and saw the people meandering outside her room. What have they been telling people about me?, she thought angrily. “Where is she?”

The elf took two more steps back and stammered, “She's at the Chantry with the others. She said she wanted to see you the moment you woke up.” The woman's words began to accelerate with every inch backwards. “She said at once.”

“Right,” Tatum sighed.

Before she could ask anymore questions, the woman ran from the house yelling that the Herald of Andraste had awoken. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Tatum completely dismayed. All the air was sucked out of her. She didn't know where to begin rationalizing this new revelation that seemed to fall into her lap.

She growled loudly and paced about the room.

I'm not some Herald. I am not anything. Why would I want something like this nonsense to diminish my reason for being here? She stopped walking and looked at the door. And Cullen is here. Wonderful. Commander of their forces. Yeah. Her hands balled into fists. They'll probably want me to join their little club. Play nice with The – Little - Andrastian – Super Group. Her thoughts continued to seethe. She looked at her hand and saw the Mark still glowing faintly upon her palm and shook her head. This was not good. Not good at all. Yes, I agreed to help. Not to be propped up like some savior.

She started pacing again, her eyes looking at the scattered documents on a nearby desk. They looked like military reports that were requiring a signature. Troop numbers and requisitions. Everything a mighty army would need. Tatum glanced out the window again and sighed. Why are these in here? She drew closer to the window and saw soldiers standing at attention in front of her door. Oh, Maker.

“Am I just mad that he's here?” she asked out loud to herself. Her head fell back, eyes closed and murmured, “I can't tell if this You forcing me to put my feelings aside or that it's time to do what I've thought about doing in the event I saw him again.”

Her fingers started to tingle. It scrolled up her arm and then stopped at her shoulder where an old stab wound resided. She placed her hand on it and frowned. I know that wasn't his fault. It wasn't his blade. But it was his men. The tingle became a burn the made her fall to her knees. Too many emotions. Too many evil thoughts.

I just can't forgive him. Not after what happened. Not after Maddox, Lily, Joshia, and so many others. Not after so many failures.

Her strength waned. Her resolve began to falter. So many questions left unanswered as to the where's and why's of the entire situation. She shook uncontrollably; every muscle ached and begged to stop. She looked to the door again, remembered those people standing there, waiting for her to emerge into the sunlight. Slowly the heat of her pain subsided. She made no gains in her confidence.

The faith those people had, she didn't share. Even coming from a devout bloodline of nobles from Ostwick, she didn't share the same candor for the Maker as they did. She doubted. Skepticism became her greatest strength and greatest weakness.

And now she rose, her legs trembling; throat burning from holding back screaming, and approached the door. She rested her hand on the handle and inhaled. So many doubts and insecurities came to mind as she slowly opened the door and stepped out into the blinding sun. Men and woman stood at attention, motionless. Silent. The only sound came from the breeze rattling through the boughs of the pine trees. She saw the Breach. Still there. Like her own personal failure. Only this one was large enough for the world to see.

Her heart sank at the thought. The last thing she remembered was a blast and then darkness. She'd gone up there to seal it. Gone to face a double-edged sword of execution or being devoured by a magical tear on her hand that she had no idea how she'd received.

She looked at the masked faces. Clad in armor and felt their eyes on her. Inspecting her. Awing at her presence. It was nerve racking, nausea inducing. She saw the Chantry on the hill and began to approach it. People huddled in bunches around the Chantry doors, whispering about her arrival. Some smiled. Most stared in disbelief.

Tatum's eyes dropped as she reached for the door. It swung open fast, nearly sending her to the ground. Two strong hands caught her and set her right. She adjusted her robes and frowned. You silly sonofabi-, she thought and glared at the owner of the hands.

“Cullen,” she said, stunned by who it was.

“Sorry, Herald. I heard you were awake and Cassandra and I came to greet you,” he said with a matter of fact tone.  His face betrayed his voice though.  Curiosity, anger; a complete juxtaposition of contradictory emotions probably leading all the way up to relief.  He looked over his shoulder at Cassandra, her arms folded. Her posture was one of impatience with a glare to match. “But I have to keep this short, my apologies. There are some issues I must attend to.”

“That's fine,” Tatum replied.

She didn't care where he was going. It had just better be away from her. Cullen excused himself and quickly left her to deal with Cassandra. As the door closed behind her, she glanced back at him and pictured the strange expression on his face.

He can't believe I'm really here either, she thought. Guess we share that in common at least. Except if I saw you again... she stopped herself from continuing her line of thinking when she met up with Cassandra.

“Herald, we need your help,” Cassandra started as they walked through the chantry.

The smell of incense and smoke permeated the air. Their footsteps echoed around them in the stone structure. The Chant of Light was being sung. All of these things made her uncomfortable. It was like walking around her estate in Ostwick before she was sent to the Circle there. People feigning piety and ostensibly snubbing those who lacked their level of devotion.

To her, it was a cruel game made crueler by her magic manifesting at six and made even worse – if that was at all possible – by her transfer to Kirkwall.

She listened to Cassandra and Leliana talk about what had been going on since she fell asleep again. Chancellor Roderick still wanted her in chains and off to Val Royeaux, much to Cassandra's defiance of his command he backed down, leaving the three women to realize that they were on their own, with no Chantry to back them up and the world was being torn apart from above and below with the Mage Rebellion and Templars pulling away from the Chantry.

“We're on our own,” Leliana said, folding her arms.

“Probably forever,” Cassandra added. “Most Holy wanted this Inquisition if everything failed. It has to work. We'll make it work. All of us. With your help.”

Tatum quirked an eyebrow and glanced at the final edict written by Divine Justinia. So many people had died already. She'd lost friends, both mages and templars, to the war. At the very least, she could help them with that, rally support, end the bloodshed, make some damnable use out of the Mark she'd been branded with.

“Alright,” Tatum answered with a sigh. “I'll do it.”

I'll work with you. I'll try and bind my emotions for the time being. Try to realize that with Cullen here and aiding me – I mean – them..., she thought to herself as she shook Cassandra's hand in agreement. That means coming to terms with the fact that my wont for retribution has to come to an end.