Darkness fell over the day, but it had barely registered in Cullen's mind as he focused on completing his work. For once, he had a standing appointment with the Inquisitor to allow her to unburden her mind of its horrors. All day she had acted oddly, from training in the morning to their afternoon War Room meeting, and if he was being honest, he was surprised he had held it together. Usually, he was the flustered mess, though he did have reservations about whether or not this was still a good idea. Signing one last requisition form for Quartermaster Morris, he sheathed his quill and sat back in his chair staring off into thought. He supposed he found it rather endearing the way she fretted about him when they bumped into each other when there was no work to discuss.
A small smile spread on his lips, however, it was quickly squashed at the memory of her betrayal. He felt the fool for all of it, but there was a complicated war going on in his head. Part of him wanted to cast her off and never speak again, like severing himself from a gangrenous limb. He could move on, complete his time as Commander of the Inquisition, then go home to South Reach and retire in obscurity never having to hear the name Trevelyan again. If he was lucky, the lack of lyrium would take his memories and he could live out his days in ignorant bliss mindlessly working the farm. He purpose would be solely to support his family, and at least then his life would still have meaning beyond the Inquisition.
Feeling for his lucky coin, he held it up in front of his eyes remembering Rosalie's face when she saw he still kept it after all these years. Then he remembered the only reason why he had rekindled communication with them…
The part of him that fought for Evelyn was like an itch inside he couldn't scratch. It was annoying, yet when he allowed it to blind his anger it was soothing on the verge of numbing as he lost himself in fantasies. In his futile attempt to persuade himself that she was just another woman who could in time perhaps be replaced, he ended up figuring out why she was so rooted in his heart despite being a mage and a noble. The first was the loyalty she commanded in those beneath her. Having been torn from her privileged life into one of Circle politics, she knew what it was like to have to earn respect, working for it even as people spat down on her. She didn't win it through bribes or favors but through hard work and dedication to serving the people of Thedas. Every single one of her companions would follow her to the Void and back, and that spoke volumes when considering the characters who made up her inner circle - himself included.
The second reason was that she was a kindred spirit, knowing the challenges they both faced daily due to their past trauma. Sometimes words weren't needed between them, only a look or gentle touch was enough to chase away the shadows. The night she had slept in bed beside him was the most peaceful slumber he had had in years. From her scent to the feel of her hands and body, it was an addicting remedy to his ailments. He had stubbornly tried to think of another woman, any woman who could distract him, but physical attractiveness only went so far before the yearning for a deeper emotional connection took hold. He wanted them to be like her, looking for similarities, but no one was like her. From the way she boldly spoke to how she moved, all fell woefully short of the mark.
He tried to blame his high standards on the fact that she was the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, and the Phoenix of Ostwick. For the vast majority of women in Thedas, even just owning one such title was rare, but Evelyn held three; two of which she earned herself and the other was one of circumstance when she stepped out of a rift. Was he so vain that he could not think of another woman purely because she was the most powerful one in all of Thedas? No, he determined it was not that. While she was all those things, she was Evelyn, the woman who walks through fire knowing that each day when she wakes it could be her last. She is selfless and strong, with unshakable morals and conviction. If you stood behind her, she'd protect you; beside her, she'd fight with you; but stand against her, and you probally weren't getting up from that fight.
Her inner fire was unstoppable and beautiful when it pulsated through her veins. Even as he tried to repulse himself by thinking of her magic, nothing could touch the splendor of her wings. The tidal ripples of color as they burned then faded were unlike any mutation he had seen in all his years as a Templar. And lest he forget her sultry locks of brown and gold that made her stand out from the crowd. The day they had been intimate in her quarters sprung into his mind, remembering the way her silky hair fell from his fingers before grabbing her to kiss her…
There was a knock on his door. The same woman he had been musing on for the past few minutes poked her head in, her ponytail falling in off her shoulder, "Is now a good time?" He beckoned her in, and as before like it was only yesterday, she placed the tray of refreshments on his desk while he pulled over a chair to the side of his desk. Unsure of how to begin, she led by casually asking after him.
"If you don't mind, I'd rather not speak of myself," after his words, she looked to the floor rolling her lips in disappointment or frustration, it was hard to tell. Off to a rocky start already, when she looked back up to him, her expression rested somewhere between tears and wanting to rip his head off; he waited anxiously to see which it was. Her eyes bore into him but he didn't falter, unwilling to yield to her. She was searching for something from him, but her resolve soon faded and he watched her chest sink.
Suddenly, she stood with her fists clenched, "I see this was a mistake," spinning on a heel she rounded the chair with speed, fleeing for the door back to the Keep, "it was too soon!"
"Evelyn, wait," he was already around the opposite side of the desk before she reached the door. Having pulled the latch, she gave it a good yank, but his arm held it shut.
Stubbornly she pulled it two more times before growling. Her arms dropped to the side, but she refused to look at him, "Open the door." He didn't move or say a word, making her face him, "Open the damn door!"
"No, go sit."
She huffed throwing her arms up in the air, "Why am I even here, Cullen? You want to talk, but then when asked a simple question, you throw it back in my face. I say I want to apologize, but you don't want me to. What is it you want from me?!" There was a wild and desperate look in her eyes, like a caged animal ready to bolt, but also one too afraid to do so. He didn't know how to answer her question. He had no idea what he wanted anymore, and somehow, he knew she didn't want to hear that. "Say something or I'll fade-step right through the door!"
Cullen blurted out the only thing that he wanted at the moment, "I don't want you to leave!" Her breathing began to slow, as she coughed a few times having excited herself. "Please, stay."
"Our conversations were never one-sided, Cullen." She was right, and perhaps his choice of words were not well chosen.
He sighed, "Then allow me to begin again." As she thought it over, he noticed how tired she looked. Her shoulders sagged and if her legs were as firmly planted on the ground as they were he'd think she was in danger of collapsing in a heap before him. Matters looked as if they were weighing heavier than usual, having lost her vibrant energy. He offered her his arm, but instead walked herself to the chair unassisted. Ignoring the snub, he once again sat, eyeing the assortment of cookies and the hot mugs of cider. "To answer your earlier question, I'll feel better once we're camped outside of Adamant and the trebuchets are hounding away at the gate." It was a cheap answer, and she knew it, but decided not to push it further.
The next hour passed incredibly slowly as both of them tried to settle into the old yet new rhythm of speaking together alone. He liked it better when they had been strangers, rather than a couple with a past. There were lots of annoyed sighs and little eye contact, but once the distraction of the refreshments was gone, so too was her desire to linger despite just scratching the surface of her recent troubles. He was relieved when he was once again left to the solitude of his tower, but glad they got through the first talk, even if he had almost ended it before it began. It was a small step toward… he truly had no idea, but he needed to figure it out. Too much was riding on the both of them to act like awkward teenagers pretending to be mature about the feelings stirring about them.
As he rested his elbows on his desk with his head down grasping his hair, another knock echoed throughout his office. Before he could summon them in, Dorian waltzed in looking out the door behind him, "Was that Evie coming from here? Have you two made any headway? As much as I love a good bleeding-hearts drama, I don't enjoy starring in one."
Resuming his previous position with a groan while the mage sat in the chair beside him, he was growing tired of their conversations always being about her. "You and me both. I have a mind just to end it so I can have some peace."
"I would caution you against that," his voice seemed more sincere, as he tried to settle in on the warmed seat, "that could be much worse." When he looked over wearily at him, he went on, "I think I know you well enough to know that you're incapable of doing that. Look how you reacted when an imposter suitor showed up or what happened that night we were up late playing chess," he grumbled at the memory, "you went to 'check on her' and ended up kissing a betrothed woman, lest we forget the signature you left on her lovely neck. And even before that, I caught her trying to have a private chat with you while you slept."
He sat up, "What?! When was this?"
"Oh, yes, it was at the end of your last relapse, but… I did promise I wouldn't say anything," he quirked an eyebrow at him pausing before gleefully adding, "but it's too late now, so I'll just tell you! I was down here giving her some privacy with you up there, but I heard something about you never being able to forgive her and fantasizing about running away to South Reach. Not much of a fantasy, if you ask me."
He raised a hand to quiet the babbling mage, "She mentioned running away to South Reach?"
"Do you not listen? I detest repeating myself. It's a wonder, as a former Templar, how you ever remembered an order given to you."
"Dorian," he growled.
"Very well, yes, she said something to the effect of wishing to run away with you after all this to South Reach," he posed thoughtfully before his gray eyes flicked over to him, "Wait a moment, was that… we stopped there on the way back from Crestwood." It seemed he was just realizing the significance of her words. "Your family lives there… well, now isn't that interesting." Dorian knew why Cullen had a hard time forgiving Evelyn, they had talked at length over it. He had heard the Tevinter transplant boast before that he was the Commander's confidant and closest friend, even if it was partly true. With Rylen doing most of the traveling for him of late, Dorian had been a ready friend, for which he was grateful, even if his sarcasm was trying at times. "Tell me, does that revelation change anything?"
Cullen stared hard at him, "It… might." His friend's face looked at him expectantly, "It may mean that she lied about believing I was unfit to support her… but it doesn't change the truth of it. Take away my title and what am I? A Ferelden farmboy who can wield a sword, that's what. And what if I succumb to lyrium's madness, will she nurse me through to the end of my days? Does she deserve such a mundane life? What would her family say?"
"That's the spirit!"
"Did you not just hear what I said?!"
"See, it is annoying isn't it, having to repeat yourself." With a harsh glare from his leonine eyes, the mage continued, "I did hear you, and what I mean to say is it's about time you're thinking about a future with her again." Cullen froze thinking about his implications. Was it so simple as that? Yet, the path to forgiveness was arduous and fraught with pain he didn't want to confront. Why was he being a coward about it again? Wasn't confronting their demons the purpose of their talks, even if they were each other's current problem? His heart sank thinking of the past hour and his behavior towards her, especially when it had been his idea. As the wheels in his head spun, Dorian was excusing himself after standing and walking to the door, "Glad I once again proved invaluable to you. I shall leave you to your handsome brooding. Do try to get some sleep, Commander." With a wistful wave, he was off to the Herald's Rest, no doubt, in search of better company.
Locking the door behind him, Cullen made his way up his ladder to bed. Pulling off everything but his pants, he climbed in looking up to where there was once a hole in his ceiling. Having requested at least one window larger than the arrow slits, Master Gatsi was able to accommodate him with one facing the southern ramparts. Having never shut it since the day it was installed, it kept the room from feeling stuffy like Kinloch Tower. Having kept his paperweight brick, he reached over to his nightstand where he kept his personal correspondence.
Since his surprise visit to South Reach, he had kept faithful communication with his siblings. Since his coin was of no use to them, he sent useful gifts such as a variety of books or anything they happened to note that had broken or needed replacing. It was especially easy to do with the Inquisition's vast resources and plenty of vendors looking to garner favor with its Commander by helping with such simple favors. Leliana had helped select fabric from one of the merchant stalls to send to Rosalie, who had since made several new outfits for them all - including himself. He even had Master Gatsi and his craftsmen make a new grindstone for the mill from leftover stone used to repair Skyhold. The stone needed redressing, and seeing as it was aging and worn, thought it'd make for a nice surprise.
Evelyn had also kept in contact with them, as they secretly checked up on him. A few times he had glanced around her desk before their split he caught a few lines from letters she left out. She had sent them a few things as well in thanks for their hospitality, and as far as he knew, was still waiting to hear back from Branson if she was permitted to gift Richard a Ranger foal next spring. Having outed their kiss after they departed for Skyhold, Mia and Ros were always asking how things were between them. Having recently gone suspiciously quiet on the subject in his replies, he debated whether he wanted to tell them things had cooled to the frigid temperatures of the Frostbacks. Knowing them, they would most likely blame him for whatever went wrong, so he didn't see how telling them would help the situation.
Every now and then he would take a handful of letters and read through them, committing to memory their contents in the quiet of the night. Having been welcomed back with open arms, he would not neglect his familial duties again, especially after thinking recently about his future. If his withdrawal symptoms became more severe the older he got, he would rather not burden them with his care, but neither did he want to rot in a Chantry home. Would they even take him in since leaving The Order? Regardless, he was going to rely on someone's charity, be it one of his siblings or… or…
"Oh, for the love of…" he pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew who he needed to speak to first in the morning.
***
Evelyn stood crossing her arms in the Quartermaster's office as he shuffled through a pile of requisitions. Without windows the space was lit solely by the yellow glow of candlelight. The chaos of the papers piled about the room seemed to have no clear organization, yet Quartermaster Morris appeared to have his own system. "I simply wish to know if you've had any luck finding that thing I asked you about for Enchanter Ilara's nameday? A yes or no would do, I have--"
The door opened and the Commander strode in with his nose down reviewing his parchment, "Morris, I need these supplies… oh, Inquisitor, um, good morning."
"Good morning, Commander," she tried to fake a smile. The Quartermaster paid him no mind yet, still thumbing through pages. Meanwhile, the two stood awkwardly swaying trying to think of what to say after last night. Eyeing the paper he was crumpling in his hands, she asked, "What have you there?"
"An updated supply list that needs to be filled immediately before we leave in a few days for Adamant."
Morris looked up, "One moment Commander, I'm on an errand for Her Worship here."
She sighed quietly looking up to the heavens, "I don't need their exact response, Morris. Just a--"
"It's here, Inquisitor, I swear," he exclaimed as he searched.
Lowering his voice, Cullen leaned over closer to her ear, "I'm glad you're here actually, I wanted to apologize for last night."
"Now?" She pointedly shot a glance to the other scrawny blonde man desperately searching for a single note in the vast filed columns about the room. "There's no need--"
The Quartermaster cut her off thinking she was speaking to him, "I really do think you need to see this, Your Worship! Where is it?!"
She huffed about to tell him her words weren't directed at him but disregarded it, "I was being sensitive, I should've been more patient. Yesterday was just… a lot for me."
Cullen tried to speak over the sound of crunching parchment, "You had asked me what I want--"
Morris again chimed in, "Just one moment, Commander!"
"Not you…" he sighed looking back to her, "what I want is to forgive you, but…"
"But?" She felt her eyes go wide as she breathed out her mouth desperately waiting for his words.
"Found it!" Morris held up the letter in triumph, "Here you are, Inquisitor!" He handed it over to her as she fumbled with opening it.
As she read through the note, its contents helped disguise her emotional response to Cullen, "They want how much?! Is this correct?"
Morris shrugged, "I told you you'd want to see it. I'll try my best to haggle down the price, but they are rather insistant upon that price. Commander, I can help you now." Cullen looked to her wanting to continue, but reluctantly passed his list to the Quartermaster for his review, "And you need this all in two days?!"
"It was an oversight, as to why I'm delivering it to you personally, to apologize for the trouble it will cause you, but the supplies are vital." As the Quartermaster's best customer, the Commander knew how to keep the easily flustered man calm.
A deep exhale shot from his mouth before meeting Cullen's eyes, "You'll have your supplies, Commander. I'll stake my reputation on it!"
"Thank you, Morris."
"And my thanks as well. You've done an exemplary job providing us with everything we need for the operation. The Inquisition is lucky to have you." Her words made the man blush, but even so, he held himself up straighter. "Though perhaps it's time to get you an assistant to help manage your office."
The haughty man perked up, "That is incredibly insightful, Inquisitor. I suppose I could use an extra set of hands in here if to simply free my mind to focus on the highly complex web of supply lines and contacts."
The two senior members shared a look, "Of course, I shall see to it." With that, they took their leave with their business having been concluded. Outside, they stopped just behind the tavern, "Wait, what were you going to say in there? Why you can't forgive me?" His face contorted with pain, but he didn't speak. "Please," she took a step closer pleading with him, "talk to me."
"I want to forgive you, but there are things we are going to need to talk through. With Adamant looming before us, we can't afford the distraction. Can we just get through this mission and deal with it when we're back?" It was a reasonable request and one that offered her hope, as she nodded. "I need your support in the coming days and you mine. We can't operate awkwardly in each other's presence." His face softened, "For the sake of the Inquisition, I can push aside my feelings so we can resume some normally."
"As can I," came her ready answer, but it would immensely harder than that. She wanted to fix things and if that was the way forward so be it. Both sighed in relief despite the farce of their new understanding. They would pretend as if all was well, for what else could they do considering the situation? More was at stake than their personal relationship.
"In that case," he rubbed the back of his neck in the endearing way he always did when nervous, "I was going to grab something to eat before the council meeting. Would you... join me?" He was asking for more than her company, but a practice run of their new act.
She performed well, placing a hand to her stomach pretending it had growled, "I could do with some as well, thank you." A small friendly smile tugged at her lips, ignoring the tension of her jaw. Having cursed their duty for her issues of late, now it seemed it was the only thing holding them together.