Cullen Romancers

Cordelia's time in Arlathan Forest, and with the Veil Jumpers, had settled the antsiness that drove her North in the first place. Surrounded by like-minded people, she learned a great deal and imparted her own knowledge in return. They all shared an interest in ancient Elvhenan, and the sense of community she found was wonderful. If it hadn't been, she likely would've run back to Ferelden indefinitely. Her work with the Veil Jumpers was enlightening and kept her busy, but spirits, it was so much better with Cullen at her side.

There was still danger in addition to the joy, of course. Thedas was at war, and darkspawn were spreading across the forest. But they faced it together. Without the distraction of paperwork and the demands of running either the Inquisition's army or the clinic, he could devote himself more wholly to her. Getting to know him in a more intimate, romantic sense was not only thrilling but calming in equal measure. His presence—his love—calmed something in her she hadn't realized was disturbed. Finally getting to pour her love into him after years of it thrumming within her, unable to be unleashed… it was a relief. Despite the chaos that waged around them, she was unbelievably happy.

On nights like tonight, she no longer had to worry about making her way back to camp alone or staying the night in the workshop. Cullen was there. He would walk back with her, to their tent—preferable for both of them, since sleeping in bedrolls on stone floors was growing tiresome at thirty-eight and nearly forty-one. Now, they could return to their tent with their bed where they'd spent hours over the last few weeks acquainting themselves with each other's bodies. Cullen was particularly fond of burying his face between her thighs at any hour of the day.

But for the moment, he sat with her in the workshop while she tinkered. In contrast to their days with the Inquisition, he was the one making sure she ate when she found herself engrossed in her work.

The item she'd been working on decided it wanted to be in a different shape. As she began to sketch the new arrangement of golden pieces, she snorted. It looked like she was drawing a breast from different angles. Cullen looked up from the letter he was writing, and she spun the artifact around.

"The drawing of this looks like a breast," she said. "If Ash were here, she'd probably say something about how there were better tits to play with." She frowned after the words spilled out of her. Were it not so late, she probably would've had the forethought to keep that anecdote to herself, but there they were. Flexing her left hand, Cordelia returned her focus to her notebook.

"Have you… heard from her? Since she left the clinic last, I mean." What a peculiar question. From Cullen, at least. It was probably her own fault for mentioning Ash in the first place.

She twirled her pencil between her fingers. "No."

The last words Ash ever wrote to her were tucked in her trunk with the rest of her letters. She could be dead. She could've found Rae... but if she had, and it had ended well, she would have come back, wouldn't she? Cordelia thought so, which was why she leaned towards her friend—her bed partner and almost lover—being dead. It was easier than believing she was alive and never came back, not even after Solas's ritual. Easier, but not easy. It wasn't easy to grieve a woman you loved, a woman you didn't know you were in love with until hours before she ran away from you.

"Hello. I was just—ah…" He rubs the back of his neck in a gesture that's grown familiar to her in the short couple of months since the Divine's Conclave. It makes her smile widen.

"Nothing I've cut has grown back yet, with the snow and all, so I had to come farther out," she explains, taking pity on him.

"I—needed to clear my head," Cullen says.

"By marking the perimeter." He looks somewhat sheepish at this. "My clan's Second used to do the same, usually on the first night we set up camp somewhere. Or when she was angry with me or our Keeper." That, or she'd find a clearing and unleash lightning on everything within a small radius around her, but he doesn't need to know about that.

Some of the tension in his shoulders releases. "What's her name?"

"Her—Kiara," she says. "Her name is Kiara. And she has dark, dark hair like a raven, and violet eyes, and detailed branches of vallaslin, mainly on her forehead."

"She's a mage as well?"

"That's right. We have… different strengths." She tells herself it isn't important, and that the former templar cares not for the preferences and intrinsic inclinations of mages. Yet… she doesn't think she's imagining the light of interest in his pretty eyes. Should she keep talking? Or should she allow him the chance to ask a follow-up question, just in case?

"As do we all," he says, not a question, but not oppressive silence either. Then again, nothing about Cullen has ever felt oppressive.

Taking a chance, she rises to her full height, which is still more than a head shorter than him. "Would you mind if I walk with you for a bit? I need to stretch my legs." Her legs are fine, she wasn't crouched very long, but he doesn't need to know that either.

He shakes his head, eyes widening a little. "I don't mind." She smiles again and starts down the unmarked path, noting how he adjusts his stride to keep pace with her shorter steps when he follows her.

Cordelia hums as they come to a tree that's clearly been marked by a deer, both by its antlers and a tuft of fur caught in the bark. Halla behaviour isn't quite the same as deer, but it's similar enough to recognise. Especially considering…

"Before my… former lover and I were together, I offered to help her search for this halla that had gone missing." The light brown fur comes away from the bark and she rubs it between her fingers. "She was the apprentice to the halla'amelan, you see, and she didn't want him finding out she lost one of the halla. And I—we'd known each other our whole lives, of course. She's a year or so younger than me, but anyway, I was already rather interested in her by then, so I offered to help." She scrunches her nose. "I said that already. Sorry."

"I'm still listening."

"Right. We went out into the woods. She's no hunter, but it's her responsibility to know the behaviours and signs of halla, how to track them down. Sometimes they get spooked by bad weather or…" she gestures vaguely, and swears she sees him almost smile.

"I understand. My family are sheep farmers." Something else is left unsaid in the silence after, perhaps something to do with how he left home at thirteen, seeking a different life than that of a sheep farmer. Who all had he left behind? He's mentioned parents, but does he have siblings? Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents? A whole clan's worth of people to miss him? She wants to ask, but the likelihood of him speaking about something so personal seems low.

Instead, she smiles and says, "Oh! So you get it." He nods. "The point of this story is that we found a tuft of white fur just like this one, caught in some bark. From there, the trail was easy enough to follow. She taught me a lot about the halla when we were together." Cullen looks down at the snow, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword. "More than my other past lover did about hunting, that's for certain. Though I suppose it wasn't his fault I couldn't aim an arrow properly."

Cullen gives her a strange look, half-puzzled, half-curious, half-… wait, no… "You aim perfectly fine with your staff," he says.

"That's different," she says with a lighthearted shake of her head. "Me and my magic are—" she laces her fingers together and holds them up to show him— "interwoven. My connection to the Beyond is like an extension of myself. Therefore channeling magic through my staff—"

"Is like reaching out part of yourself. We're taught to treat our blades the same."

"Ah, but a blade is not a bow."

The corners of his mouth twitch up. "I suppose not. And how are you with a blade?

She brandishes her knife, which isn't meant for combat, but is certainly sharp nevertheless. "Why don't we find out?" It's a joke, and she hopes he takes it as such because it would be embarrassing if he thought she genuinely meant to meet his sword with a single, short knife meant for cutting plants and rope.

He chuckles. Victory. He looks so much brighter when he laughs. Like the shadows beneath his eyes aren't permanent, like the pallor she sometimes sees in his cheeks is just a trick of the light.

"You know, someone could teach you to wield a dagger in combat. In emergencies, if your staff gets taken or your mana is running low… it could save your life."

She tilts her head to the side. "Are you offering to be that someone?"

"I, ah…" He averts his gaze, hand shifting on his sword's pommel.

"You have so many other responsibilities, I don't mean to—"

"No."

She straightens and fights the urge to pull her cloak tighter around her. She isn't cold, but that firm no, on the other hand…

"I mean, no, that's not—forgive me, I'd be happy to teach you. I'm only unsure if it should be—there are better people who could teach you dagger play."

"Oh." Well, that sounds pathetically disappointed. She tucks her knife back into its sheath, sporting an embarrassing blush on her cheeks. "That's alright. I was—I was mostly joking." A lie. She hoped she could use this as an excuse to spend more time with him, but… "I've taken up enough of your time already. I'll just…" She takes a couple of slow steps backwards and catches sight of a bright stalk of embrium poking out of the snow, which she gestures to.

"Right, yes, I didn't mean to pull you away."

"I didn't mind the interruption," she says earnestly.

"Thank you for the story," he says, a pensive look overtaking his face.

Dear Inquisitor Trevelyan,

We’ve had another two hundred recruits pledge their allegiance to the Inquisition since you departed for Crestwood. It seems like news of your survival at Haven has spread around Thedas farther than we could have imagined. The recruits are greener than I would like, but many of them know how to hold a sword right side up. That’s a start.

Josephine is ecstatic. She mentioned something about hosting a celebratory ball upon your return. If you need me, I shall be hiding in my quarters until the threat of such an event passes. But I warn you now so you know what you’re up against when you return.

How is Crestwood? Leliana’s scouts mentioned the weather is appalling. I hope you are able to stay safe and locate Hawke’s Warden contact. I fear we won’t make much headway with Corypheus without them. If you require extra resources just say the word — I have a few soldiers who are ready to be deployed at any time.

One… final matter I would like to approach. I have heard mention of a high dragon flying through the area. Please I would not recommend approaching the Dragon, and instead exercising caution — no matter what The Iron Bull may say.

Regards,

Commander Rutherford

+++

Dear Commander Rutherford,

What did I say about formal titles with me? Being addressed as the Herald was tough enough, but now as the Inquisitor? I would appreciate it if my friends would call me by my given name. If that is not too much to ask.

If anyone can whip these recruits into shape it would be you. I have full faith in my Commander.

Crestwood was wet. We did take all precautions to stay dry, but still managed to feel the chill most days. At least Dorian did, he never stopped complaining about it.

Hawke and Warden Alistair are headed back to Skyhold as I write this letter. We have rerouted to stop through the Hinterlands before we head back. Now that we have the capabilities, I thought we could provide more help to the refugees of the area, and see if any more are interested in joining the Inquisition. Don’t worry, I shall be back before long to keep you from the dreaded ball.

I must admit, the idea of a celebration does excite me. The dresses, the food, the dancing! Before I was taken to the circle, I used to beg my Mother to allow me to attend our family soiree’s when we hosted them. Don’t worry, I am ready to conspire on an excuse to keep you in hiding.

You’ll be pleased to know that we did not engage with the high dragon in Crestwood. Despite Bull’s protests, we knew the four of us would not be able to take her alone. Still, I don’t like the idea of leaving the town unguarded against her. Could you please deploy our soldiers to Crestwood when you have the chance? They’ll appreciate the protection.

Maker, the Hinterlands is gorgeous. As I write now it is sunset, and the golden light filtering through the leaves is beautiful. I can’t believe you grew up around here. You must have had the most magical childhood.

We plan to leave for Skyhold in a few days. I hope you can hide from Josephine until I get back.

Warmest,

Codex: A carefully folded parchment letter left spread out on the Commander's desk. Next to the papers is a tiny pile of dried and pressed elderflowers. If one were to count them out, they would note there are a dozen of them.

Ma Rajelan,

Creators, I miss you so much! I'm sorry I haven't been able to write you before now--you must be wearing yourself out with worry! Vhenan, I knew this parting would be hard on us, but I had no idea quite how hard. Maybe it is simply that we’re in Ferelden, but everything reminds me of you.

The Grey Warden is here, so I ought to give Hawke her flowers for that. He’s... interesting. He looks so much like you, I thought you could be brothers! But Varric points to his juvenile humor as something not acquired in a village like Honnleath. Has he met your family?

Rajelan’s missing you too, I expect. Were you here, he’d crown your head with drooly kisses and beg you for carrots.

As for Leliana. I got her to agree to leaving our private correspondence alone, as a favor to me and as a pathetic sort of privilege for being the Inquisitor. I used the saddest eyes on Charter—you know the ones—and I’m hopeful the sincerity of the request was properly passed on. I have no doubt that you’ll know whether she kept her word this time.

I wish this could be the part where I get to write “I’m coming home soon,” but there’s still an underwater rift to close and a dragon to fight here in Crestwood.

You wouldn’t want to send Sera and The Bull down here, would you? I could send Hawke, Cassandra, and this Alistair ahead to Skyhold if they came down. Blackwall might be interested in tagging along, too. It’s probably been years since he’s been in the company of another Grey Warden. It’s funny. He’s a little standoffish with our newest guest. Of course, the information Alistair brought with him would sober any Warden, I imagine.

I love you so much and I miss you more every second we’re apart, ma vhen’amelan. It’s unbearable, especially at night. You’ve gotten your wish there, though, because I do remember everything about our last evening together with perfect clarity, you absolute rascal!

So it brings me no small satisfaction to hear that your dreams have been similarly afflicted. Let’s make a deal. You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine. Call it... comparing notes.

I’ll be back as soon as I can possibly manage it. I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Until we see each other again, know that my thoughts are never far from you in your lonesome tower. I’ll be careful, I promise.

Mythal’enaste,

Lavellan

*Forgive the slightly changed wording in the second paragraph. The coded message fits differently on here.

⚶ ⚶ ⚶ ⚶ ⚶ ⚶ ⚶ ⚶ ⚶

⚶ ⚶ ⚶

Codex: A rolled missive that has fallen under the Inquisitor’s desk.

Sweetling,

Cole has been dogging my steps for days now. Is this your doing? How many inhabitants of this keep have you set to looking after me while you are away?

On reflection, don't answer that. Ha.

He insists on sending cryptic notes and appearing out of nowhere to share some devastating truth or other with me at all hours of the day and night! It is exhausting, and quite painful.

I find that I am both rather upset you've set him loose upon me while you're away and simultaneously grateful you don't have to witness the state it puts me in. We have much to discuss when you come home arrive back at Skyhold come home.

I pray the Maker will speed your steps back to me.

Ever Yours,

Cullen

⚶ ⚶ ⚶

Codex: A missive left on the War Room table in Skyhold.

Report: On Taking Caer Bronach

Seeker Pentaghast has successfully taken Caer Bronach in Crestwood with the assistance of our squadrons. The keep is ours. Please send the remainder of D Company to begin rotation of duties.

Overnight watch noted pillar of smoke coming from the forested hills to the north, scouts immediately dispatched. Discovered burned out campsite near Three Trout Pond with remnants of Inquisition gear. Two bodies found onsite: badly burned, embers hot. Secondary burn pit found to the east: disposal of bodies, likely Red Templars. Ashes cold.

On extended search, secondary battle site found behind nearby bluff. Two Red Templar assassins dead, magic users involved. Footsteps leading off to the North. Estimate five persons on foot, one with the gait of a dwarf.

Before leaving the site, scout encountered three mounts tied together on a broken highline wandering in the brush. Confirmed by SP to be the Inquisitor's red hart and the horses belonging to Lord Pavus and Warden Blackwall on arrival at CB. Scouts searching caves to the north for signs of the Inquisitor's party.

Will send updates the moment we know more.

Charter

⚶ ⚶ ⚶

Codex: A pair of missives crushed in the bottom of a singed and dirtied rucksack.

Charter,

E Company is being dispatched to Caer Bronach. They can arrive a full day earlier, stationed as they are in the Hinterlands on a resource gathering mission.

Please send word of the Inquisitor’s party with all haste.

CSR, Cmdr

Charter,

If no word is to be had by nightfall, please send a message regardless. Send out the scouts of E Company when they arrive, if you must.

CSR, Cmdr

Part Two coming soon!

Gentle tags:

My love,

There’s so much I want to tell you; it’s hard to even know where to start! The Frostback Basin is incredible; I’ve never seen plants like these!! I want to take so many cuttings, but I don’t have enough space! I’ve started putting them in other people’s packs, which…not everyone is understanding of. But really, if you could see them!! I’ve tried sketching them but I’m no artist, so they mostly look like blobs. But!! I’m bringing those cuttings home with me, so I can show you all of them in person!! And I’ve already been testing some of them; there’s this thick vine-like one I found in a swamp which keeps bugs away. Which is perfect for me and for Dorian, despite his complaining about them taking up space in his bag.

I’ve been showing my notebooks to a herbalist here in Stone-Bear Hold; he’s just as excited to learn about our plants as I am theirs!

And the history!!!!! I can't overstate how much there is here and how it’s everywhere! I know we are here for a specific purpose, but I could stay here an age studying the ruins. Sera’s been kind enough to sketch them for me (though she keeps asking why I’d want a sketch of them) and I can’t wait to show them to you!! Professor Kenric is lovely and it's so fascinating to discuss his work! Did you know one of the things he studies are belt buckles? And the things he can learn from a single buckle; it’s incredible!! The others weren’t as enamoured (I know, you’re shocked haha) but I was enthralled. It’s like my bottles. The material, the design, the clasp, all of it, can tell you so much about the people who made it! A simple, everyday item and yet it’s a perfect window into the past.

I’ve learned so much and we haven’t even started our search into the Inquisitor!

The only thing that would make this better is if you were here. I’ve been jotting down notes everywhere we go, so I don't forget all the things I want to share with you. But I’d much rather you were here in person. Now that the war’s over, Corypheus defeated and the Breach sealed, I’ve been hoping we might travel together more. And not just to seal rifts or hobnob with nobles. I want to see the world with you, Cullen. It seems so strange to know we can start planning a future without all the worry I’m used to, but we finally can. I’ve never had a future before and now I have one with you.

And as always, you have turned me into goo. And you’re not even here!

I have been told to ration parchment and clearly I am reaching the end of my allotment, because the quartermaster is giving me a look. So I will be good and put a stop to this here, even though I am overflowing with everything I want to say. So let me finish with the most important thing of all. I love you.

I love you, I wish you were here and I can’t wait to hear from you.

Yours always, Bunny

ps I’ve included a few of Sera’s sketches! And no, the third one is not an exaggeration!!!

Thank you so much to everyone who's read these; I had so much sharing them!!!