His hand was still outstretched, holding out the note of extra rations. Patience drawing thin, he maneuvered past his desk, taking a few long strides to place the paper in the woman's hand. Armor shook and clanked with each step he took, and as he drew close, she would smell the unmistakable scent of acrid herbs and crushed elderflower. The paper crumpled as he closed her hand around it firmly, as if expecting her to throw it back.
"If you won't take it, give Fisher your share," he explained, finally letting go. "Don't deny him his relief. It should get him back to the field sooner." Cullen then returned to his place behind the mountains of paper, resuming his work as he spoke. When she mentioned the gathering, however, his hands stopped, and he studied her with worried frown. His mouth opened and closed several times, as if reshaping his words repeatedly, the thoughts half-formed. Eventually, he found the right ones, and he spoke with a sudden speed, though his voice was now hushed. "Is this true? But... very well. It is best that I see this with my own eyes."
The Commander felt uneasy at her mention of his piety; was it pious to feel such fear and darkness in his heart when the mages were mentioned acting thus? He had told himself that he would do what was right, but given this, what would be right, if she were telling the truth? He eyed her smirk with some jealousy. Cullen had never been able to care less about anything, least of all, those in his care.
"I will make the time. Make certain that they will not notice my presence," he replied, more for his own conviction than her benefit. With a nod, he levelled with her gaze, conveying a small gesture of trust. "Dismissed, Agent Hyacinth. And let Leliana know of this. I... do not want her to think I am going back on my word. I... believe in the sacrifice of the Templars... but I also sympathize with the plight of the mages. We are all here to do what is right."
Alba looked on the armored man with pity. All the metal he wore and carried was already burdensome; the pack he lugged around must have felt like an anchor. Her interest was piqued when the poison was mentioned, not expecting the Inquisitor to resort to such dastardly tactics. All in all, Ophelia Trevelyan appeared to be a series of contradictions, packaged in a neat, leathered bundle of righteousness and pomp. For who else but a high-born Inquisitor could decide to take in a pack of pirates, magnanimously offer to watch their ship, and expect compliance as she explained their detention with detached cordiality, as if she were inviting them all to a little festa complete with wine and dancing? The crew howled and groaned all the way, some casting mutinous glances at their captain as they were all forced to follow the Inquisitor like placid little sheep. Despite it all, Alba merely smiled, reflecting Ophelia's cordial manner with an equally poised amusement.
"I see, so this is what passes for hospitality in your lands," said the pirate, with a shrug. "Your people are as cold as the snow. In my homeland, we would ply the prisoners with drink first, at least, before we bring out the ropes. The difference between honey and vinegar, as it has been said." There was no effort made to look innocent, and given Alba's nonchalance, it was evident that this was not the first time she had been placed in this position. "But thank you, Inquisitor, for offering to guard my ship. She is a beauty, is she not?" If Ophelia cared to look at the pirate, she would see a pair of eerie eyes staring back at her with a calculating gaze. "I had heard that the Inquisition has grown in power. But true power cannot be had without traversing the seas."
But quick as the wind, Alba shifted the topic, returning to the matter at hand.
"At any rate, who is this Cassandra? I hope she sees that I mean all the best, too," continued the pirate. "But truly, to waste your time on such a simple crime... and on innocent passers-by... I will have to give an honest account." Her lips lifted, turning the cordial smile into a savage grin. The promise of trouble glinted in her teeth. "Surely, the Inquisitor has more important things to do. I would hate to keep you."