andrastes sacred knickers

“Fenedhis, Maggie!” Eden shouted, letting out a loud huff. “You always do this. I’m gone for a few days and you’ve let everything go to shit,”

“Creators, Eden... I just forgot to bring your sword inside, I didn’t know it was going to rain,” Maggie said quietly, eyes trained on the ground. In their hands Eden held a sword they had been working on, the leather on the hilt discolored and molding from being rained on, rust forming on the blade. They sighed, looking up at their sister.

“I have worked on this sword for weeks. It’s ruined now,” they said, their voice growing quiet. Maggie shifted uncomfortably, she knew that once Eden grew quiet like this, they were really angry.

“I know, Eden. I know. I- I’m sorry,” she said, looking back up at the archer before her. Eden felt themselves grow hot, a burning in their chest as they looked down at their creation, ruined from the rain.

“I should know better by now. It’s my mistake for trusting you wouldn’t fuck something up,” Eden spat, shaking their head at the mage. They took a deep breath, immediately regretting the words as soon as they fell from their lips. “Maggie, I-”

“That sharp tongue of yours will be the reason Elgaris leaves you,” Maggie responded, snatching her staff which had been leaning against the twin’s tent. Eden huffed, hands resting on their hips.

“Come on, Maggie,” Eden said, more softly now.

“Don’t. Just leave me alone for a while, Eden,” Maggie said dejectedly, shaking her head as she turned on her heel, heading towards the forest.

“Shit,” Eden muttered, pinching the bridge of their nose.

Eden’s temper often got the better of them, harsh words rolling off their tongue entirely too easily. They always regretted it immediately after, seeing how their words hurt others. The nasty things they would say just spilled out of them, poisoning the people they loved. The rage that festered inside Eden scared them. They found it hard to control the inferno once it started burning.

“What was that about?”

Eden turned to see their partner, Elgaris, approaching them from behind, a puzzled expression on his face. Elgaris was a warrior for Clan Lavellan, found as an infant by Keeper Istimaethoriel among some elven ruins. They had grown up together, childhood friends turned something more. Eden cared for Elgaris a great deal. He was strong, a talented warrior, and a good friend. He helped take care of Eden and Maggie after their mother had disappeared, always ensuring they had everything they needed. Eden admired his strength and tenacity, and his ability to put up with their temper.

“Maggie is angry with me. Again,” Eden said, messing with the sword still in their hands.

“What did you say to her?” Elgaris asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why would you assume it was my fault?” Eden asked, feeling the anger burn in their chest once again. Elgaris raised an eyebrow at them knowingly.

“It doesn’t matter what I said. I’ve upset her,” Eden said, leaning the now ruined sword against their tent.

“What’s that?” Elgaris asked, looking over to the sword. It was a beautiful weapon, crafted with Dalish design. The blade was engraved with intricate patterns, the leather around the hilt a dark blue, though most of it was discolored now from the rain.

“It was a gift. I was making it for you,” Eden said, crossing their arms. Elgaris took a step closer, leaning down to inspect the weapon. The patterns engraved in the hilt were vines, hand engraved into the steel. Along the side read: ‘Dareth shiral, ma vhenan,’

Safe journey, my heart.

“It’s… it’s beautiful, Eden,” Elgaris said, his expression growing somber.

“Then why do you look sad?” Eden asked, cocking their head to the side. Elgaris froze for a moment, clearly thinking about something.

“Don’t worry about it, vhenan,” he said, pressing a kiss to their cheek. Eden nodded, letting out a huff.

“Maybe I should go after Maggie. I owe her an apology, if nothing else,” the archer said, reaching for their bow and quiver. Elgaris nodded, his eyes still trained on the sword Eden had made.

“Dareth shiral,” Elgaris replied, turning away from Eden. Eden could feel in the pit of their stomach that something was wrong, Elgaris wasn’t usually this... quiet. Eden steeled themselves, they couldn’t focus on that right now, though. Eden slung their quiver over their back, heading out towards the forest.

“Ar tu na'lin emma mi!” Eden hissed, the string of their bow pulled taut as they aimed an arrow at the man approaching them. Their hand was steady, ready to let the arrow fly at this perceived threat.

“Eden, it’s me!” he said, palms raised in defense. Eden narrowed their gaze, their body tense, adrenaline rushing through them. That voice was familiar, why did they know that voice? Eden concentrated on the face before them, struggling to recognize any features. A man. An elven man. Slowly, he became more recognizable. Dark brown hair tied back in a bun, a sword slung over his back. His vallaslin was dark blue, the mark of Mythal. Eden had gotten their own vallaslin the same day, theirs representative of Ghilan'nain.

After a moment, Eden’s eyes grew wide, realizing the man before them was their lover, not an enemy.

“Elgaris,” they breathed, lowering the arrow. “Ir abelas, I-” Eden began, feeling a well of emotions bubbling to the surface as the adrenaline began to wear off. Had Elgaris taken one more step, Eden would have killed him. Just as they had killed the men now lying at their feet. The men that had slaughtered their sister right before their eyes.

“Eden, what happened?” Elgaris asked, his voice shaking as he looked around at the carnage before him. Several bodies lay scattered around Eden, all but one riddled with arrows. As he looked closer at the body before Eden, his breath hitched. Red, shoulder length hair, long pointed ears, just like Eden’s. He recognized the mage's staff immediately. Redwood with intricate carvings, a wolf's head at the top. He had made that staff.

“I found Maggie,” Eden whispered, dropping to their knees. They rolled over the body before them, revealing to Elgaris that it was indeed Magdalene, Eden’s twin sister. Elgaris gasped, his knees weakening as he looked at her, lying in the dirt, a gash across her throat.

A tear streamed down Eden’s cheek as they looked down at their sister, her eyes still open, the blood on her neck now dark and dry. Eden’s hands were shaking as they held Maggie, an ache in their chest. They gently closed their sister’s eyes, letting out a sob as they cradled her body.

“This is your fault. You know that, right?” Elgaris said after a moment, watching Eden stroke Maggie’s cheek. Eden froze, their gaze slowly traveling up to meet the other elf’s, the shock on his face replaced with anger.

“What did you say?” Eden hissed, slowly moving to stand. Elgaris’ eyes grew wide, dropping his gaze to the ground. Eden cracked their neck to the side, feeling that all too familiar burning in their chest, breathing growing more ragged. They took a step towards the warrior, their jaw clenched. Elgaris took a step back, clearing his throat as he eyed Eden’s fists, now balled up at their side.

“She wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t for you,” he spat, reaching for the sword slung over his back. He held it out in front of him, his grip on the hilt shaky as Eden slowly approached him. The archer’s knuckles were white from digging their nails into their palms, the muscles in their forearms flexed tight. The anger within felt white hot and blinding, consuming them like a forest fire.

Elgaris scrambled backwards as Eden reached him, gripping on to his sword. Eden reached out for the sword’s guards, wrenching it from the man’s hands. They tossed it to the side, grabbing the front of his armor and pulling him towards them.

“Go on, seth’lin, say it again,” Eden said, lifting the man off of the ground. Despite being the same height, Eden was much stronger than Elgaris, a vice grip on his clothing. He struggled to free himself of the archer’s grasp, gasping for breath. Elgaris clawed at their hands, sputtering for air as Eden lifted him up. He could see the all consuming, seething rage in their eyes, all semblance of anything but anger gone.

“Eden, don't do this,” he squeaked out, pleading to be released from the elf’s grip. Eden took a deep breath, the urge to snap Elgaris' neck almost consuming them. They let out a breath, tossing him to the ground.

“Get out of my sight, Elgaris. Before you end up like them,” Eden hissed, gesturing to the bodies on the ground. Elgaris huffed, standing up and dusting himself off.

“You’re going to end up miserable and alone, Eden. You couldn’t even keep it together for her,” he said, watching the archer carefully. “I hope you know it was always Maggie. I loved her. You I merely tolerated,” he spat, kneeling down to pick up his sword. A sharp whistle pierced the air, an arrow flying right over the top of the warrior’s head. He looked up, fear overtaking his expression.

“You have 10 seconds to run,” Eden growled, another arrow ready to fly. Elgaris’ eyes grew wide, scrambling backwards. Eden watched him take off, running as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the archer. They turned back towards Maggie’s lifeless body, stumbling over to her. Eden knelt down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I am so sorry, Maggie. This is all my fault,” they whispered, tears forming in their eyes. As they gazed upon the body of their sister, they felt a different kind of pain in their chest. Unlike the rage that festered deep inside, this didn’t burn. This was a gaping, chilling, all consuming kind of ache.

Eden stayed by Maggie’s body for what felt like forever. Stroking her cheek, her hair. Telling her all of the things they never had. How much they loved her, how they’d miss the way she talked in her sleep, her laugh. How they were sorry for all of the awful things they had said, for the fights they started. Things would never be the same. Now Eden had no one.

“The Dread Wolf guides you, lethallan,”

Eden looked over their shoulder, seeing Keeper Istimaethorial approaching them from behind, her staff in her hand. Eden looked down at Maggie, lying lifeless before them.

“You must stray from these ways, Eden. Your rage will consume you,” she said, lying a hand on Eden’s shoulder. Eden knew she was right. The rage that festered within would overtake them one day if they couldn't calm it.

“This is my fault,” Eden whispered, closing their eyes. The Keeper shushed Eden, kneeling down beside them.

“Yes, it is. And now you must endure,” Keeper Istimaethoriel replied, patting Eden’s shoulder. The mage stroked Eden's cheek, standing and turning on her heel. "I will have Elgaris and his men come and get her, she deserves a proper ceremony,"

“I suppose I must,” Eden whispered, a hand on Maggie's shoulder.

“Well, I’m writing today off seeing as we’ve gone through,” Eve counted the bottles of wine on the table before her, swaying slightly. “Three bottles,”

“You and The Iron Bull went through three bottles. I had maybe a glass,” Dorian said with a huff, tracing his finger on the rim of his wine glass. Eve's head began to spin as she braced herself against the table, taking a deep breath. Perhaps drowning her sorrows in wine this early in the morning wasn't the best idea, considering she was the Inquisitor...

“You can put ‘em back, Boss. I’ll give you that,” Bull said with a hearty laugh, slamming a massive hand onto the table. Dorian shot him a nasty look, rolling his eyes and scooting farther away from the man beside him. 

“I think it would be best if you took the rest of the day off. I’ll tell Ruffles you’re sick or something,” Varric said, eyeing Eve as she stood up, watching her nearly fall over. He helped her steady herself, raising an eyebrow at her.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Eve admitted, adjusting her tunic as her head spun from the wine.

“Do you need me to carry you to your room, Boss?” Bull asked, readying himself to stand up.

“What? Of course not,” Eve huffed, looking at the three men at the table. “I’m fine guys, I can handle a few bottles of wine,” the elf said, doing her best not to slur her words.

“If you say so,” Varric said, raising an eyebrow at her. The three men watched as Eve walked out of the tavern, seeing her hesitate at the door. The elf took a deep breath before heading in the opposite direction of where she was meant to be going.

“She’s going to do something stupid,” Varric mumbled, moving to stand. Dorian grabbed his arm, causing the dwarf to turn and face him.

“Let her. Maybe this is what she needed to finally talk to the man,” Dorian said, tilting his head as he looked at Varric. Varric looked back towards the door, letting out a loud sigh.

“If this goes poorly, I’m blaming it on you,” Varric said, sitting back down at the table.

“Give her a chance, surely it’ll be fine,” Dorian replied, leaning back in his chair. Varric shook his head, letting out a loud sigh.

“I’m getting too old for this,”

Eve made her way towards Cullen’s office, her head spinning. If the commander wasn’t going to step up and make the first move, she was going to do it. Dorian was right, it was obvious that Cullen felt something for her. Why else would he have spent all that time caring for her as she recovered from the incident at Haven? He didn’t leave her side for days according to Mother Giselle, refusing to allow others to take shifts at her side. She remembered waking up to find him asleep across from her, a book in his hands. She'd watch him sleep, the candlelight illuminating his features. That was when she knew she felt something more for the commander.

She had always been fond of him, though his past as a Templar made her weary. She and Cullen didn't always see eye to eye regarding the mages assisting the Inquisition. They had argued when she recruited the Grand Enchanter and her mages for the Inquisition's cause. He felt it was dangerous to have so many mages around without the assistance of Templar's due to the threat of possession. Eve felt that the mages deserved freedom just as anyone else did, and they needed to find a way. Though he didn't agree with her methods, Cullen always respected her decisions.

Eve knew now that this wasn't just some momentary infatuation, she cared for Cullen. Deeply. She hoped he felt the same way.

The Inquisitor looked up to find herself at the commander’s office, her heart pounding. She couldn't wait any longer, she needed to tell him how she felt.

What was the worst that could happen?

She pushed the door to his office open, finding him leaning up against his desk looking over a map. Eve stood for a moment, watching him from afar. His brow was furrowed, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he mulled over the map. Eve took in the sight of him deep in thought. She rarely got to observe him without him seeing her first. Any time she stole a glimpse of the commander, he was already watching her. He’d avert his gaze, cheeks and ears blushing red, trying to hide a smile. She could watch him all day, the way his nose wrinkled when he was focused, a single wave of blonde hair falling from its normally pushed back style.

“Well hello, Commander,” Eve finally said, swaying slightly as she leaned up against the door frame to his office. Cullen looked up, immediately setting down the map in his hand, smiling at the mage. After a moment his smile dropped, observing Eve as she tried to remain steady on her feet.

“Eve… are you alright?” He asked, taking a step closer to her. She smiled at him, pushing herself off of the door frame and stumbling forward. Cullen rushed towards her, catching her by the shoulders as she fell. Eve hiccuped, laughing to herself as Cullen held her.

“I’m wonderful, actually," she said, looking up at him. You’re just the man I was looking for, in fact,” she continued confidently, puffing out her chest and straightening her posture.

As her gaze met his she was hit with sudden regret. What was she doing here? It wasn’t even noon yet and she was 3 bottles of wine deep getting ready to tell Cullen how she felt about him. Surely this was not the way to do things, surely seeing her this way would sour any feelings he might have. Her eyes darted to the ground as Cullen's hand remained on her shoulders, gently holding her still.

“I… am?” He asked, confused as he watched her carefully. She smiled at him sheepishly, her cheeks red from the wine. “Eve… Sweet Maker, are you drunk?” He asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Perhaps,” Eve mumbled, looking up at him. His eyes were golden brown, warm like honey. Why had she never noticed how beautiful his eyes were?

“You have great eyes, did you know that?” She said, swaying a bit. Cullen huffed, furrowing his brow as he looked at the elf.

“I… I do? I, uh. Thank you…” Cullen said, his hands still resting on her shoulders. After a moment he pulled away, realizing that he was still touching her. “May I ask why you’re drunk before noon?” Cullen asked, cocking his head to the side.

“It was Bull’s idea, said I needed to let off some steam,” Eve said sheepishly, her face turning more and more red. Cullen shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I see,” he said, doing his best to hide a smile. Eve cocked her head at him, narrowing her gaze.

“What?” She asked, her hands resting on her hips. Cullen chuckled, shaking his head.

“It’s nothing, though I am disappointed that Iron Bull let you leave the tavern in this state on your own,” Cullen said, walking towards the elf.

“I”m not in a ‘state’,” Eve huffed, folding her arms over her chest. “And Varric and Dorian were there too,” she said. Cullen laughed, approaching her and extending his arm.

“May I escort you to your room?” He asked, flashing her a warm smile. Eve froze, her gaze falling to his lips. What would he do if she kissed him, she wondered. Would he kiss her back? Would he let his hand fall to her waist, or maybe thread one through her hair? She snapped her eyes up to meet his, taking a deep breath before hooking her arm with his.

“Yes… thank you, Cullen,” Eve said, trying to regain her composure. “Let’s not tell Josephine about this, hmm? She’d be so angry with me,” Eve said as she and Cullen made their way towards her suite on the other side of Skyhold.

“Hah, yes let’s keep this our little secret,” Cullen replied, smiling to himself.

“Thanks again, Cullen. I… I don’t really know what to say,” Eve said as they approached the door to her room. She turned to face the commander, looking up at him. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to feel his lips against hers, his hands on her body. 

“It’s nothing, really,” he said, adjusting his gloves. He smiled at her, dropping his gaze after a moment.

“It’s something to me,” Eve replied, taking a step closer to Cullen. She placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his cheekbone. He brought his gaze back to hers, taking a deep breath. Just as he was about to say something, Eve interrupted him.

“You mean something to me, Cullen. I just really care for you,” she blurted out. The mage felt her body grow cold, her eyes growing wide as soon as the words left her mouth. Cullen froze, looking down at her in shock. The two stared at each other for a moment, Eve’s hand still resting in the commander’s cheek.

“Creators help me,” Eve hissed, pulling away from him. “Thanks again,” she huffed out, quickly opening her door.

"Eve, I-" Cullen started, but Eve quickly slammed her door shut. She took a deep breath, resting her back against the door. The mage looked up at the ceiling, cursing to herself. “That was real smooth, Eve,” she mumbled, sliding down to the ground and pulling her knees up to her chest.

Cullen stood outside Eve’s room, his eyes wide as he stared at the door. Had that actually just happened? He had thought over and over how it might go for him to tell Eve how he felt. What he would say, how he would say it. Would he kiss her, embrace her? Would she kiss him back? Would she even want him? He wasn’t even sure she felt the same way, he was always convincing himself that he fabricated any possible connection between the two of them. And now here he stood, mouth hanging open as he replayed what had just happened. Cullen rested a hand against the door, letting his head hang. 

“Curly?”

Cullen jumped at the voice, turning to see Varric walking down the hall towards him. He straightened up, clearing his throat.

“I… uh, yes. What is it, Varric?” He said, awkwardly adjusting his armor.

“What’re you doing?” Varric asked, an eyebrow cocked at the commander. He observed Cullen for a moment, noticing how flustered he was. A sly smile crossed the dwarf’s face as he approached Cullen.

“I brought the Inquisitor back, she was… a bit under the weather,” Cullen said, running a finger through his blonde hair.

“Yeah… under the weather…” Varric replied, his arms crossed over his chest. “Is she okay? Does she need anything?” He asked, watching Cullen attempt to regain his composure.

“Uh, no. I think she’s fine,” he said, turning to walk back down the hall. Cullen stopped, dropping his head. “Varric… can I ask you something?” He mumbled, turning back to face the dwarf.

“This ought to be good. Lay it on me, Curly,” Varric said with a chuckle, arms still crossed as he eyed the commander.

“Hypothetically speaking, if someone says something to you when they’re not of the right mind, do you think that means anything?” Cullen asked, shooting a glance back at Eve’s door. Varric laughed, walking up to Cullen and clapping a hand on his back.

“You’ll just have to ask her, now won’t you?” Said the rogue, shaking his head as he headed back towards the main hall of Skyhold.

“Right… ask her,” he said, watching as Varric made his way back down the hall. “I can do that…”

Cullen paced before the tavern, his mind racing. He’d been up all night thinking about Eve. He played back all of the times he could’ve told her how he felt. Thought about the nights he spent by her side as she recovered from Haven, watching her as she slept, hearing her mumble his name in her dreams. He had been the one to find her in the snow, his prayers answered as he held her close to him. When he said goodbye to her at Haven he never thought he would see her again. Now there was a chance he could have more with her, to finally hold her in his arms, to be close to her.

Eve told him that she cared for him.

But she’d been drinking. Maybe she didn’t mean it. Maybe the rumors that she and Blackwall were still involved were true. Maybe this was all some elaborate idea he had made up in his head. But maybe…

“Good morning, Curly,”

The commander turned to see Varric approaching him, a wide smile on the dwarf’s face.

“What’re you doing anxiously pacing in front of the tavern? You usually do that in your offfice,” said the dwarf, resting his hands on his hips.

“I, uh. I’m looking for the Inquisitor,” Cullen said, shifting uncomfortably under the rogue’s gaze.

“Well, seeing as she has breakfast here every morning at the same time, I'm assuming she's inside,” Varric chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way into the Herald's Rest. Cullen took a deep breath before following the rogue inside. Now that Varric had spotted him, there was no getting out of this.

He scanned the tavern, his eyes landing on Eve, her bright white hair tied up in her usual bun, head resting in her hands. Cullen felt a knot growing in his stomach as he took a deep breath, gathering all of the courage he could. Compared to this, being the commander felt easy. Wielding a shield and sword, no problem. Making decisions for the Inquisition's forces, easy. The potential of being rejected by the one person he truly cared for? Terrifying.

He walked over to Eve, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. “Inquisitor?” He said, holding his breath as he waited for her response.

Eve turned to face him, smiling awkwardly up at the commander.

“Oh, hi,” she said, looking at the hand on her shoulder. 

She didn’t correct him for calling her Inquisitor. She always corrected him, even refusing to answer to Inquisitor at times. Cullen felt his stomach drop, nearly deciding to abandon his whole plan. He steeled himself, letting out a puff of air and squeezing her shoulder. 

“Eve would you… well, would you want to take a walk with me?” He finally said, his hand remaining on her shoulder. Eve nodded, the tips of her ears and cheeks beginning to blush.

“Yes, I’d like that,” she said as Cullen moved his hand from her shoulder. She turned her body in her chair to face him fully, smiling up at him. Cullen's face grew warm, he loved her crooked smile and the way her eyes glinted. He realized after a moment that she was staring at him, her head cocked to the side and an eyebrow raised.

“Oh… great!” he replied, letting out a sigh of relief. Eve chuckled to herself, flashing Varric a wide eyed smile as she got up from the table.

“I told you that you would be fine, Lucky,” Varric said, winking at the elf. She narrowed her gaze, subtly shaking her head at him.

"Shall we?" Eve said, looking over to Cullen. He nodded, taking a step back to allow Eve to get on her feet. She pressed her hand to her temple, groaning.

"Headache?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her. 

"Something like that," she replied, making her way towards the exit to the tavern. Eve stood in the sun for a moment, raising her head to the sky with her eyes closed. Cullen watched her, feeling the knot in his stomach grow as he took in her features. Her freckles and blushed cheeks glowed in the morning sun, her eyelashes snow white and impossibly long.

"Sorry, I just love the sun," Eve said after a moment, looking over to Cullen. 

"I love... me too," he stuttered, his face growing warm. He was going to mess this up, wasn't he?

The pair walked in silence for a while, Cullen trying his best to nonchalantly lead them towards the armory. He didn't exactly want to have this conversation in front of everyone at Skyhold.

"Did you sleep well?" Cullen asked as he approached the door, turning to face Eve.

"What do you think, Commander?" Eve mumbled, rubbing her forehead. He chuckled to himself, resting his hand on the door handle to the armory.

"Can we talk? In private?" he asked, looking over to Eve. The elf's eyes darted to the ground as she kicked at a weed in the dirt. 

"I suppose," she mumbled, following behind Cullen as he walked into the armory. Cullen allowed Eve to enter, closing the door behind him.

“About yesterday,” Cullen said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Eve let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Can we just forget that ever happened?” Eve asked, feeling her cheeks growing warm as she looked down at the ground.

Cullen didn't want to forget. He wanted to tell her he'd been waiting to hear those words for months. He wanted to tell her that before she spoke the night before, he was getting ready to say the same thing. To tell her that he cared for her, that he wanted something more. The commander approached her, lifting her chin so that she would look at him.

“What if I don’t want to?” he said, studying her expression.

“You… really?” She asked quietly, furrowing her brow. Cullen felt his stomach flip, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. The commander leaned down for a kiss, his hand now resting against the elf's neck. As he did, Eve dropped her gaze, his lips colliding his her forehead. 

"I, I'm sorry, I thought-" he started, a rush of embarrassment running through him, making his body feel warm. Of course he had misread things. How could he be so stupid as to think the Inquisitor truly felt something for him. Just as he went to pull away, his cheeks flushed red, Eve stopped him.

"You think too much," She whispered, grabbing his face in her hands and pressing her lips to his. 

Cullen felt a fire ignite in his chest as his lips were pressed to Eve’s. She smelled of fresh rain and jasmine, her lips warm and soft. He felt her tangle her hands into his hair, moving her lips against his. Cullen placed his hands on her hips, pushing her back against the edge of a table. He pulled away, gaze darting from her lips to her eyes.

“Wow,” Eve breathed, looking up at the commander through her long, white eyelashes. Cullen couldn’t help the smile on his face, feeling his heart beating heavily in his chest. He had wanted to do that for months, it felt unreal.

“I, uh. That was… really nice,” Cullen said, his hands still resting on her hips. Eve laughed, tilting her head to the side, her gaze falling back to his lips.

“I believe that was a kiss, Commander,” said the mage, pulling him towards her. He pressed his forehead to hers, laughing to himself, their noses touching. Cullen pressed his lips to Eve's once more, pulling her as close as he could. 

“I like a man with a nice beard,” Eve said with a laugh, shooting Blackwall a flirtatious grin. He sat beside her in the tavern at Haven, his arm resting on the back of her chair. The tavern was fairly full with the Inquisition’s scouts, chatter creating a low rumble. Eve had her hands wrapped around a mug, rubbing her thumb against the glass.

“A woman of taste, I see,” he laughed, the hand behind her grazing against her shoulder.

“Elven men don’t have beards, they’re all… naked in the face,” Eve replied, picking up her mug of ale and taking a big swig.

Cullen sat a table over, picking at a plate of food as he watched Eve and the Warden from afar. He felt his face grow warm as the two shared glances, Blackwall shifting to be closer to the elf. The commander couldn’t understand why he felt so… jealous. It’s not like he and Eve were anything more than two people working towards the same cause.

She was the Herald of Andraste and he the commander of the Inquisition’s forces. Any time they spent together was simply work, though Eve did ask him to train her along side his soldiers. She was interested in learning to defend herself without the use of magic. He liked that about her. She was a near hopeless cause at first, hardly even able to hold a sword. Cullen enjoyed the time he spent with her, training her one on one in the evenings. She was dedicated, never missing a lesson with him and he admired her determination. She was, after all, very busy. But she dedicated as much time as she could to improving her form, running drills, observing Cullen as he taught the other soldiers.

Eve was funny, she was smart, and the commander couldn’t help but notice the fact that she was also quite beautiful.

He looked back up at her across the tavern, noticing her eyes on him. She shot him a quick smile, returning her gaze back to the man sitting next to her. He watched as her eyes flicked quickly to Blackwall’s lips, meeting his gaze once again and laughing at his joke. Cullen loved her crooked smile, the way one of her eyes squinted when she laughed.

What he wouldn’t give to have her look at him like that.

“You’re not very subtle, Commander,”

Cullen jumped at the voice, turning to see Leliana leaning against the wall behind him. He grumbled to himself, looking back down at his plate of roast and potatoes.

“Sweet Maker, how are you so quiet?” He huffed, resting his head in his hand.

“Practice. It also helps that I don’t wear 10 layers of armor like you,” she said with a laugh, sitting down in the chair across from him. “She isn’t going to magically know you feel for her, you know,” the spymaster said, leaning back in her chair.

“What? Why would you? I don’t feel… anything for-“

“It’s quite obvious that you do,” Leliana replied, cutting off his stumbling. Cullen sighed, looking up at her.

“It would be… inappropriate,” he mumbled, hiding his face in his hands.

It didn’t matter what he felt. He was the commander and she… she was important. Eve was their only chance at sealing the Breach, the fate of Thedas rested on her shoulders. He couldn’t let his feelings cloud his judgement, now was not the time to indulge his feelings. Besides, she was a mage. He still struggled with feeling safe near magic users and Eve was no exception.

“And sitting here seething, staring daggers at the Warden is appropriate?” Leliana asked, raising an eyebrow at Cullen. He rolled his eyes, training his glare on her.

“Who asked you anyway, Leliana?” He huffed, his hands balled in a fist on the table.

“Oh my, Commander. You’re in trouble,” she said with a chuckle, turning her head to look at Eve and Blackwall. Eve still had her hands wrapped around her mug, her legs crossed under the table. Her foot rested against Blackwall’s shin, slightly rubbing against him as they talked. The Warden’s arm remained on the back of her chair, his hand now resting against her arm.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen groaned, shoving his plate forward and swiftly standing up. He looked over to Eve once more, seeing her cheeks and the tips of her ears blushed as she laughed. He turned on his heel, storming out of the tavern.

“Good night, Commander!” Leliana shouted after him, shaking her head. She looked over to Eve who raised an eyebrow at her. Leliana shrugged, pulling Cullen’s abandoned dinner towards her and picking at the potatoes.

Cullen stood outside the tavern, his back leaning against the building. He hated how worked up he felt over this. His heart raced, his stomach felt like it was in knots, his face was warm. He had no right to feel jealous, Eve had no idea how he felt. He didn’t even really know how he felt. She just had this effect on him, made it hard to focus, to think. Cullen cursed under his breath, making his way to his tent for the night.

“It would probably be best for me to head to bed. I think Josephine has quite the list of tasks for me to do tomorrow,” Eve said, looking down at her hands. She felt warm from the ale and the crackling fireplace in the tavern, feeling Blackwall’s hand resting against her arm.

“Let me walk you back,” he said, getting up from his chair and extending a hand to Eve. She smiled, placing her hand in his as she stood. His hand was warm, but rough from callouses. Blackwall gently squeezed her hand before releasing it, gesturing for her to walk ahead of him.

“You’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you,” Eve chuckled, making her way out of the now empty tavern.

“A lady such as yourself deserves to be treated with respect,” he said, following behind her. As she stepped outside into the cool air, Eve took a deep breath. She wasn’t used to spending so much time indoors, the night air on her skin felt like home. She looked up to the sky, it was clear, the stars beautifully visible and sparkling.

“Being trapped inside so much is strange for me. I’ve practically lived in the forest my whole life,” Eve said, looking over to Blackwall.

“That must’ve been an exciting life, traveling so much,” he said as they walked, his hand brushing hers.

“You can’t tell me your life hasn’t been exciting as a Grey Warden,” Eve said, allowing her pinky finger to rest against his.

“Hah, yes. I suppose my life hasn’t exactly been boring,” he replied, his eyes dropping to the ground.

As the pair approached Eve’s door, she turned to face him.

“Thank you, Blackwall. I enjoy your company,” Eve said, leaning her back against the door frame.

“And I, yours,” he replied, resting his hand next to her head against the door. Eve cocked an eyebrow at him as he moved his face closer to her, dropping her gaze to his lips. Blackwall pressed his lips against hers, letting his free hand fall to her waist. She could feel the rough scratch of his beard against her face as he moved his lips against hers. She rested her hands against his chest, leaning in to his kiss. He smelled of leather and pine, she could taste a hint of ale on his breath. He pulled away, averting his gaze as he let out a chuckle.

“Good night, my lady,” he said, bowing his head slightly.

“Good night,” she replied, watching as he walked away.

Eve smiled to herself as she unlocked her door, slipping inside. She rested her back against the door, taking a deep breath before walking towards her bed. Eve quickly removed her boots followed by her coat and scarf. She kicked off her trousers, left only in her small clothes and shirt and slipped into her bed.

As she closed her eyes to sleep, Eve thought about the kiss with Blackwall. She had never kissed a man with a beard, it was rough and coarse, though she did like it. Eve liked Warden Blackwall. He was kind, determined, and dedicated to their cause, albeit a bit intense. It felt nice for someone to treat her as he did, her last experience with a man colored her ideas of how she deserved to be treated. As she lie in her bed, her mind began to wander to another man.

The commander.

Eve spent a lot of her time with Cullen, whether that be in meetings with her other advisors or when she trained with his soldiers.

Though Eve was a mage, she was determined to show the Inquisition’s soldiers that she was one of them. And learning to wield a sword was something she’d always wanted to do. Keeper Istimaethoriel always discouraged her from doing so, as she needed to focus on her studies. Cullen was so willing to teach her, taking time out of his day to train her one on one. He was kind with her, despite how awful she was at first. He was patient and thorough, making sure to explain things in a way she could understand. Eve was always surprised at how gentle he was when he helped her adjust her form, making sure to show her how to hold her body and where to place her hands on the sword.

Eve wondered what it might be like to feel his gentle touch in other ways. How his hand might feel in hers, how it might feel to kiss him.

Eve’s eyes snapped open. The elf rolled over on to her back, staring at the ceiling of her room.

“Oh,” she mumbled to herself, feeling her pulse race as she rubbed her forehead.

Eve always thought Cullen was handsome, she enjoyed flirting with him as it always made him blush. But he was the Inquisition’s commander. And an ex Templar. Surely, there could never be anything there. It would be too… complicated. Now wide awake, Eve knew that sleep would not be coming for her any time soon. She took a deep breath before sitting up, sliding off of her bed and pulling on her trousers. She slipped a sweater over her head and pulled on her boots.

“A walk… yes, that’s what I need. A walk and a cold shower,” she huffed, trying to shake the thoughts of the commander from her head. Eve grabbed her staff before heading out the door, securing it across her back as she walked into the cool air.

Cullen lay in his cot, staring up at the ceiling as his mind raced. He couldn’t get the image of Eve out of his head, the way she flirted with Blackwall, her smile, the way she batted her long white eyelashes, the curve of her nose. He huffed, rolling over on to his side and closing his eyes. He felt himself grow flustered all over again, imagining how he would react if he was in the Warden’s position. Would he be able to hold his composure if she rested her foot against him, running it up his leg? What would it feel like for her to place her hand in his? For her to lean in to him, looking into his eyes, her lips pressed to his?

Cullen opened his eyes, breathing heavily and his face warm. He grumbled to himself as he sat up, swinging his legs off the side of his cot. He could feel the frustration building inside him, he hated the way his body reacted to the idea of being close to Eve. Any time they’d touched, he thought about it for days after, overanalyzing every interaction.

He stood from his cot, shoving his feet in a pair of boots and sloppily lacing them.

I need to hit something He thought to himself, pulling on a sweater and picking up his sword. As he ducked under the flap of his tent he saw a figure standing near the stables, a hand outstretched petting one of the Inquisition’s horses.

Short in stature with snow white hair that nearly glowed in the dark.

“Of course,” he mumbled to himself, debating whether he should just pretend he hadn’t seen her. In a moment of boldness, he made the decision to walk over to the elf.

“Herald?” He said as he approached her, sheathing the sword at his side. She turned to face him, smiling at him with that crooked smile. He froze for a moment, already feeling warmth rush to his cheeks.

“Hello, Cullen,” she said, gently stroking the horses muzzle. She turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t call me that, please just call me Eve. What has you put so late?” She asked, cocking her head to the side as she looked at him.

“I, ah, couldn’t sleep,” he said, watching as she turned back to face the horse. He observed the way she traced her finger along the swirl on the mare’s forehead, whispering quietly to her. The mare bowed her head, allowing Eve to rub gentle circles along the swirl.

“I have a horse, Hugo. Something told me to travel to the Conclave on foot, my clan was staying just a days travel away. I’m glad I made that choice, I don’t know if I ever would’ve found him again had I brought him,” Eve said quietly, gently petting the mare’s cheek.

“Do you miss him?” Cullen asked, watching how gentle she was, how the horse responded to her touch.

“I do. He’s been my best friends since I was a girl,” Eve said, chuckling to herself. “That’s a bit embarrassing,” she admitted, reaching in to her pocket and pulling out a sugar cube.

“I don’t think it’s embarrassing. It’s cute,” Cullen said, biting hid lip as he looked down in embarrassment. Eve smiled, placing the sugar cube in the palm of her hand and offering it to the mare. “Don’t tell Master Dennet,” she whispered to her, giggling as the horse’s lips tickled her palm.

“Eve I-“ Cullen started, looking at her. The elf turned to face him, raising an eyebrow as he spoke. “I just wanted to tell you that-“ Cullen felt his face grow warm, anxiety bubbling in his chest. What was he doing? Surely he wasn’t about to tell her that he had feelings for her, this was not how he’d want to do it. If he ever did it.

“What is it? You can tell me anything, Cullen,” Eve said, taking a step closer to him and placing her hand on his arm.

“I just needed to tell you that I have to cancel our lesson tomorrow… something came up,” he blurted out, the feeling of her hand on his arm making his heart pound.

“That’s alright, I’m sure Josephine can find me something to do,” Eve said, patting the commanders arm before turning back to face the horse.

“I’m sure she can,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“Well, I suppose I should head to bed. Have a good night, Cullen,” Eve said, flashing him a smile before walking back towards Haven, shoving her hands in her pockets. Cullen watched as she walked away, rubbing the back of his neck. He turned to face the horse, who blew a snort at him.