Cullen sat up and then leaned back in his chair as she walked toward him. "As much as it pains me to admit, I'm glad we were able to secure the Orlesians as allies. I've received word from the Imperial army. They are ready to march with the Inquisition when called upon. Also, it seems that all your footholds outside Skyhold have increased our reputation. We're receiving reports that people view us as a stabilizing force, which means another round of recruits has arrived eager to pledge themselves to our cause. It looks like we obtained the new smith just in time."

Evana sat on the back edge of his desk, facing him. "Sounds like we should leave Skyhold more often, then. What do you say? The Commander and Inquisitor, cutting down demons and red templars all the way across Ferelden and Orlais."

Cullen gave her a wry smile. "If my duties didn't keep me chained to this desk, I would be at your side in a moment."

Abruptly, he stood, took the papers from her hands and laid them on his chair. Then he took her hand and led her to the fire. The small box Harritt had handed to Cullen sat untouched on the mantle, and she tried not to stare at it. She blushed when she turned to find him watching her with an expression that seemed to be a mixture of adoration and amusement. Finally, he reached up and pulled the box from the shelf.

"I wish I'd been able to give you this the other night, but as it is..."

She smiled as he handed her the box and then internally cursed her silly nerves as her hands trembled when she lifted the lid. She gasped.

"Cullen! It's... is that my design? Oh! And the Inquisition sunburst... and... wait... is that...?"

"A lion to match my helmet. I wish I could take credit, but I merely handed Harritt the coin and asked him to make something of it. Dagna might've helped."

She could only stare at it, then back to him, then back at the amulet. It was a representation of... them. A little of him, a little of her, and a bit of the Inquisition. Harritt had captured it perfectly.

"It's imbued with a Lifeward, courtesy of Dagna," he explained a little nervously when she didn't respond. "Do you have the coin?"

With another gasp, she suddenly shoved the box back at him and ran out of the office. His surprised laughter followed her out the door as she flew back to her quarters, retrieved the coin from her armor and ran back downstairs. This time, she slowed to a fast walk when passing through the great hall, but several people, including Varric sitting at his regular table, gave her odd looks. She didn't care. Suddenly, nothing seemed more important than getting back to Cullen with the coin now squeezed tightly in her fist. She rushed through Solas' empty study and arrived back in his office out of breath.

"Here... it is..."

Cullen gave her an amused look, but merely took the coin from her and placed it inside the clever compartment Harritt had designed. Both sides were visible, but Cullen placed the image of Andraste facing out. Evana was, after all, supposed to be the prophet's Herald. She then turned around and let him place the necklace around her neck. After he fastened the clasp of the silverite chain, his fingers lingered on her neck before sliding down to grasp her shoulders. Lips brushed against the side of her neck as he turned her to face him.

"Mmmm... your doors are still unlocked, Commander."

He let out a small groan and then lifted his head to smile at her. "And I've got six days of paperwork to get through."

He didn't move away immediately, however. One hand moved down to rest on her hip, and the other moved to touch the amulet where it lay between her breasts. A shiver danced down her spine as his fingertips ghosted across the fabric of her tunic when he picked it up.

"It looks good on you," he murmured, his voice low and a little breathless.

"It's perfect, Cullen," she assured him.

Without thinking, she bit her lip, and suddenly, his eyes were on her lips. He bent down and brushed his mouth gently over hers as his hand moved from the amulet to cup her face. The air in the room suddenly felt hot, and she lifted her hands to rest them on his cool breastplate. He pulled away slightly, and the intense, almost pained look in his eyes reminded her of Haven, of their moment in the Chantry when she'd felt he might be trying to tell her something...

"Evana..."

The strain in his voice told her he was struggling with something, but she was unsure of how to help him. His thumb ghosted across her cheek as he shook his head and started again.

"Evana... I..."

He took a deep, tremulous breath, closed his eyes, and rested his forehead on hers. She moved a hand up to his cheek and felt his jaw clench and unclench repeatedly under her palm. She was about to speak when he suddenly broke away from her, took her hand from his face, kissed her palm and looked down at her with a small smile.

"I'm glad you like it."

Something had happened. But she was at a loss as to what.

"I do," she finally said. "I love it..." She paused, hoping he might continue, but clearly the moment had passed. "Now, shall we get some work done?"

"We?"

"I brought some of my reports down. I thought I might read them in one of your fluffy chairs by your fire... unless you'd rather I not..."

"No! No, I... that's... I'd love for you to stay."

She raised up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips before retrieving her papers from his chair and settling by the fire. He moved to his desk and shot her another small smile before diving back into his reports. The chairs, arranged to face each other next to the fire, allowed her to glance over at him occasionally. Several times throughout the evening, she found his eyes already turned in her direction, a distant look clouding his expression. She wondered if she were distracting him or if he were thinking of something else entirely.

Eventually, her pile of unread reports dwindled. Giving in to the lateness of the hour, she began preparing to head back to her quarters when Cullen let out a pleased shout.

"Ha! Evana, look at this." He quickly crossed the small space between them and crouched at the arm of her chair. "The smugglers we interrogated gave up the red templars' main source of lyrium. It's located in the Dales, near a town called Sahrnia. Destroying the mine there will cripple Samson's operations."

She couldn't help smiling at his enthusiasm. "Excellent! I'll investigate the mine on the way to the Western Approach."

"Destroying their source of lyrium will be a loss Samson won't soon forget!"

"Indeed. And we'll be taking out Corypheus' main source of troops. If we can break down the red templars and the Grey Wardens, he'll have to start all over. We'll have him at a disadvantage. We should call a war council meeting for tomorrow and discuss logistics."

"Yes," he agreed eagerly. "The sooner the better. I already sent Malia away, though..."

Evana stood from the chair. "Oh, I'm done with my first round of reports, so I was thinking of heading back to my quarters anyway. I'll stop by Josie's office on the way and let her know."

Cullen was still kneeling beside the chair, so she leaned down to kiss him. It was a strange feeling to be the one bending down instead of straining to reach up to him. The amulet swung back and forth between them, and he broke from her lips to catch it and look at it again. A smirk slowly spread across his face. She placed a final kiss on his smirking lips and backed away, smiling.

"Goodnight, Commander," she murmured.

"Goodnight, Inquisitor," he answered in a low, silky voice that sorely tested her restraint.

Overcoming the urge to run back to him, she turned and left him to his work. As she made her way back to the great hall, she paused in the empty rotunda, noting the all the things so quintessentially Solas - books open and stacked on tables, bundles of paper filled with notes, elven artifacts strewn in all corners, paints stashed under scaffolding - still hovering in the silence, waiting for his return.

The longer he stayed away, the less likely it was he would return. A nomad like him would have no compunction about leaving these items behind - leaving them all behind. A strange and uncomfortable ache pierced her heart, and she hurried out of the room. "Hey there, Snowflake," Varric called to her as she entered the hall. "Care to share what was so important earlier this evening?"

Evana blushed and sat down next to Varric with a huff. "I'd forgotten something in my room. And I needed it for this."

She picked up the chain and held it out so Varric could see the amulet. It was small, only a little bigger than the coin itself, but the gold and silverite embellishments shone brightly in the candlelight making it almost shimmer. He let out a low whistle.

"That is something. Where'd you get it?"

She blushed a deeper shade of red. "I'll give you one guess."

"Curly?" She nodded, and Varric shook his head in disbelief. "Every time I think I've got him figured out, he goes and does something like this. You'll have to show it to her in person, because Hawke won't believe it otherwise."

Evana laughed and then sobered. "Speaking of... We'll be discussing the timeline for marching on Adamant tomorrow. We may be stopping in the Dales to shut down a red lyrium mine on the way, so we'll have to leave sooner rather than later. Are you prepared?"

"Bianca and I are at your service and ecstatic for another chance to destroy more of that sick shit, Snowflake. Just say the word."

"Good. I'll update you tomorrow. I have to go speak with Josie."

"Oh, yeah. Don't keep her waiting. She'll probably die from swooning."

She gave him a serious look. "You know, she just might."

Leaving him with a quick wink, she walked to Josie's office. The ambassador was still working at her desk, as promised.

"Inquisit- I mean... Evana. You said you had... Oh!"

Evana had merely held up the amulet as she'd done for Varric, and Josie was transfixed. She rushed out from behind her desk to examine the amulet up close.

"Oh, this is so perfect! So symbolic! And Cullen had it made for you?"

"Yes. He commissioned it from Harritt. He assured me he had little to do with the design of the amulet, but it's really the coin that's important to me anyway."

Josie furrowed her brow. "The coin? Oh, there in the middle! What's the significance of the coin?" "It was his lucky coin. His brother gave it to him right before he left for templar training. Now he's given it to me - that's what the trip was for. Or part of the reason anyway. He took me to a lake he used to go to when he was a child and gave it to me. For luck. So I always come back to him."

Josie let out a long, wistful sigh. "So romantic. Cullen is a much more complicated man than I gave him credit for."

Evana smiled as Josie continued to look over the amulet, and then remembered her charge from Cullen. "Not to switch too abruptly to business matters, but I also wanted to tell you that Cullen wishes to have a war council meeting tomorrow to discuss taking out Samson's red lyrium supply. Can you let Leliana know?"

"Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Not tonight. It's been a long day, so I think I'll turn in. I'll see you in the morning."

Josie wished her a good night, and Evana headed upstairs, her mind still racing from the implications of the last few days. Most particularly, she couldn't stop thinking about that small moment when Cullen had seemed to want to say... something. As she prepared for bed, a mixture of excitement and panic welled up in her chest. If his demeanor was any indication, it was important. She didn't know what had stopped him, so she could only hope that he would try to speak with her some other time. Creators knew she had a few things she needed to bring up with him as well, and she hadn't managed it so far. They had so little time together - so few stolen, happy moments - bringing up difficult topics seemed cruel to both of them. Her bungled attempt by the lake was evidence enough of that. Perhaps that's what had stopped him? Perhaps he hadn't wanted to ruin the moment with a difficult discussion?

With a deep sigh, she crawled between her thick blankets, still pondering the question as she drifted into the Fade.

 **

 At the war council meeting, they'd decided that, instead of the Hissing Wastes, Evana would set off for the Emprise Du Lion - to Sahrnia - to investigate the mines and then meet the Inquisition forces at Griffon Wing Keep three weeks after they'd all departed. It would take the army at least that long to get there, marching several hundreds of miles across Orlais and picking up a contingent of Orlesian chevaliers at Halamshiral on the way. Cullen's forces would join with the troops already full to bursting out of the Keep. With the help of the new smith, Morgan, they would attack Adamant in approximately one month's time.

The next few days were full of preparing for the coming assault. Cullen worked tirelessly through every waking hour, and though she spent many hours drinking tea with him and working in one of his chairs by the fire, she felt as if she hadn't really seen him in days.

So she focused on her duties and caught up on her own work. She visited with nobles at Josie's behest, practiced magic daily with Dorian - and once with Vivienne, though that didn't go well - and finally met with Bull and an elven Qunari ambassador about a rather shocking offer to ally with the Qunari. They all agreed to wait until after the assault to make any moves, but it was an intriguing offer to say the least. And a risky one. Trusting the Qunari didn't come naturally for good reason.

Evana had also continued her combat training with Cassandra. Now that Evana had expressed an interest in becoming a Knight Enchanter, the Seeker, satisfied with her competency at hand-to-hand, had switched to teaching her sword play. Cullen often tried to join them for a few minutes here and there, but something always pulled him away. He'd shoot her an apologetic half-smile and head off to deal with whatever emergency had cropped up in the ten minutes since he'd left his desk.

Now, as she worked through the new forms with the Seeker only three days before leaving for the Emprise, worry ate at the back of her mind that they'd still heard nothing from her clan or Leliana's scouts. She'd known it would take time but had hoped for some news, even if just to say that things were progressing. Despite how fervently she tried to ignore it, the lack of communication left her to wonder and even, in her most honest moments, to despair. In this case, no news usually meant bad news.

And as she sat in her chair by the fire in Cullen’s office later that night, she mentally prepared herself for the worst when Harvil arrived with a message from Leliana.

"Sister Leliana requests your immediate presence in the war room, Your Worship. And yours as well, Commander. She said to tell you it's about Wycome."

Evana shot a nervous look at Cullen, but he was already walking out from behind his desk, holding out his hand for her to join him. They walked quickly, hand-in-hand, to the war room. She didn't even care what the nobles might say if they saw. His hand was the only thing keeping her grounded. Leliana started speaking before Cullen had even closed the door behind them.

"Inquisitor, I've just received word from my agent in Wycome. I thought you'd like to know as soon as possible that your clan is safe... for the moment. As with each time we act, it seems the peace is tenuous, but they should be secure for the time being."

Evana reached the table and immediately slumped over it. Holding herself up with her arms, her head dangled as a powerful, weak-kneed relief washed over her and left her reeling. Despite the warning in Leliana's voice, a huge weight seemed to lift from Evana’s shoulders. She breathed deeply.

"What happened?" she asked when she’d finally mastered herself. "Did they get inside the city?"

"Yes, the clan was smuggled inside the city and ended up joining forces with the city elves. They organized a strike at the Duke and his red lyrium supplies. The humans in the city quickly joined with the elves once they saw the contaminated wells. The Duke and his retinue - some of whom were Venatori - are now dead. For now, the Dalish are heros of Wycome, but the nobles that fled the fighting will undoubtedly return at some point."

A small silence joined them as Evana tried to process both the information and her reaction to it. Josephine piped up.

"What can we do in the meantime?"

Leliana placed one of her markers near Wycome on the map. "My agents will remain in the area and continue to watch and listen. Perhaps a note to your Keeper that she should keep our agents apprised of any issues would be helpful?"

Leliana was looking at her now. Evana tried to stand up straight, willing her feeble legs to hold her.

"Of course, I'll write a message first thing in the morning. Thank you again for all your efforts to address not only the Venatori threat but also the danger to my clan. This has been a nerve-wracking situation. Is there anything else I should know?"

"No, Inquisitor. That was all for now."

"Very good. I'll... be in my quarters if anyone needs me."

"Yes, Inquisitor."

She flicked her eyes to Cullen and gave him weak smile as she passed, but his gaze held a mixture of sympathy and vague confusion that she couldn't handle. The strength of her feelings threatening to overwhelm her, she looked away, walking quickly through to the great hall.

At her own door, she nodded stiffly to the guards - a new addition since their win at Orlais. Leliana had insisted that some Orlesians would likely put out contracts on her life for supporting Celene and exiling Gaspard. The guards were an extra precaution, and a good one, but tonight, she wished they hadn't been there to witness how she was falling apart. She didn't want anyone to see her so out of control.

Once past the guards and through the door, Evana dashed up the steps at full speed. When she finally reached her bed, tired and out of breath, she fell into the soft blankets and listened to the rushing of blood through her ears.

Her clan was safe for now. It should make her happy, of course, but she hadn't expected this level of relief, the physical weakness in her body, the trembling rush of adrenaline. Why this time? Why had this not happened the many other times her clan had been saved from danger?

A ball of guilt wound around itself in her gut. Was it because she had convinced herself she wasn't that connected anymore? That what happened to them was only of cursory concern? The clan's welfare would always be important, but she hadn't allowed herself think of them as more important than anyone else for quite some time now.

Clearly, she'd just been lying to herself. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she thought of the clan children, likely scared out of their minds at the sudden move to such an unfamiliar place - a city of all places - and the imminent danger. How many clan members had lost their lives in assassinating the Duke and his Venatori? Five? Ten? Twenty? Clan Lavellan wasn't as small as some of the other Dalish clans, but the loss of ten or twenty in such a tight-knit community would be devastating.

She knew that from experience.

And now she'd done it to them again. Her involvement in these shemlen affairs had put her clan in danger. Likely they blamed her even more than before. The tears flowed more freely now as she curled into a ball on her bed. Deep sobs wracked her body even as she tried to tell herself they were safe, they were protected. For now.

The sound of footsteps on her stairs forced her to try to control herself. She sat up and realized the only light in the room was the roaring fire.

"Evana?" came a soft, familiar voice from the stairs.

She quickly wiped her face with her sleeve and met Cullen at the top of the stairs. He immediately pulled her into a fierce hug. He'd apparently left his armor downstairs somewhere, and the firm reality of his body against hers calmed her more than anything else could.

"What's wrong, vhenan?" he asked softly.

How could she explain this to him, of all people? It was too much.

"I- I can't... please, just hold me?"

Cullen swept her into his arms and carried her back to her bed. Instead of tucking her in, however, he sat next to her, pulled off his boots and then crawled into the bed beside her. She pulled herself up against him and nestled her face in the crook of his neck. His arm wrapped around her and gently stroked her back as she entwined her legs with his.

"Stay with me?" she whispered tentatively. She felt him swallow and tense a little, and she instantly felt guilty. "We don't need to do anything, just sleep... or if you'd rather not-"

He tightened his arm around her gently. "It's not that. I... I want to stay. It's only that I often have... violent nightmares. I wouldn't wish to disturb you... or... hurt you."

She pulled her head back to look at him in the dim glow of the firelight. "Ir abelas, vhenan. I didn't know it was that bad. Is that why you don't sleep much?"

"Yes. That and the insomnia due to the withdrawal. The tea helps with that. It's nothing to worry about. I just want to ensure you are well."

Evana reached up and quickly wiped away a few extra tears that escaped from her eyes at his kindness. "It's nothing, vhenan. I'm fine. Please, if you need to go..."

Cullen pulled her back to him. "I can stay as long as you need me."

Forever, then? But she didn't dare say it. She smiled into his neck and breathed in the heady smell of leather and smoke and oakmoss salve mixed with his own musky scent. She would never get tired of it.

Her mind began to wander as she let the rhythmic sound of his breathing lull her into a doze. The amulet slid out of her tunic and thudded gently onto the bed - a reminder of his claim on her. She knew he hadn't meant it or the coin as a proposal, but her clan would see it that way if they knew. She couldn't help feeling the importance of it - and more than him offering it, she'd accepted it. He didn't understand, didn't know, the significance. But it had been significant to her. It was her final renunciation of her clan and of her duty to the People. She was his, to the exclusion of all others, and he was hers. As important as her clan was, he was more important to her now.

Perhaps that was part of this sudden guilt. She had chosen a human, even after all the lessons from Keeper about her duty as an elf - the duty to procreate with another elf, to strengthen the People and not sully the bloodline.

But how could she not choose him? His quiet strength in the face of all his responsibilities, his compassion for the weak and needy, his overwhelmingly generous heart... despite his flaws, it would be madness to reject a man like Cullen. Not to mention how her own heart yearned for him when they were apart and how full and content she felt at his side.

The idea of a person filling her in such a way had always seemed ridiculous to her. She'd heard couples in her clan speak of such things with their chosen bondmate. Now she finally understood what they meant, but it was with her human lover, not an elven bondmate. They would be shunned by both humans and elves.

Despite the assurances of the Champion, the open hostility for elf and human liaisons from both elves and humans troubled her. Not as much for herself, necessarily, but for Cullen. She was used to the derision of others, but the hateful messages Cullen had already received were proof enough that she had reason to worry for him as well. The walls of Skyhold and the kind people within those walls insulated them from prying eyes and most of the derogatory remarks. But if they defeated Corypheus, what would become of the Inquisition? The insults and condescension of the Winter Palace paled in comparison to the harsh realities of a world in which she was no longer needed. A world in which she was simply an elf with a human lover.

She didn't worry for him finding another position. If they survived this ordeal, he would have his pick of any of the top military positions in Thedas. But that didn't guarantee an upstart elf mage with a useless mark would be welcomed with him. Would it decrease his opportunity? Would he be openly ridiculed for choosing her? Would his family reject her... as hers would him? Another thought pushed in from somewhere deep in her subconscious, and she felt her pulse and breathing quicken as her conscious mind recognized it.

What about any children they might have?

Children of elves and humans were essentially human. Half elven people could pass themselves off as human if no one knew who their parents were. But her child - Cullen's child... everyone in Thedas would know the son or daughter of the Inquisition Commander and the Herald of Andraste. She could hope that their titles and positions of respect would mitigate some of the discrimination he or she would face, but that wasn't the only worry.

What if their child were a mage?

She would never allow any child of hers to go to a Circle. Not ever. But if the Circles were reinstated, would he try to force the issue? What did he even believe now that the mages had been with them for months without incident? His words by the lake haunted her - "Whatever I fear of magic..."

Which meant he still feared magic. As well he would after having experienced the worst of mages. But how could she be sure how he would react to magic from his own child, especially as the child was learning to control his/her powers? The process could be messy, and extra precautions had to be taken to make sure a young mage didn't harm themselves or others. But the Dalish knew all this and had processes in place to mitigate the chance for harm. Would he even allow her the opportunity to prove she could train a mage without interference?

As long as she led the Inquisition, she would work to keep the mages free. She would work with Fiona to create safe processes and education for young mages. Up to now, Cullen had always supported her decisions, even if he didn't agree with them. But would he shun that path when she was no longer in a position of power? When it was just her asking him to believe in a world where mages could be free?

And how could she bring up such subjects? It seemed even more impossible than talking about her clan right now. They'd been together for months, known and trusted each other for months before that, but in reality, they saw little of each other. Everything still felt so fragile, so new.

Evana gently wrapped a slender arm around his waist and snuggled further into his body. She felt him shift slightly. His breathing was even, but she couldn't tell if that meant he was asleep or simply relaxed. This was the first time she'd really had the opportunity to find out.

"Cullen?" she whispered as softly as she could manage.

The answer was immediate, and his voice reverberated through her body as she pressed against him. "I'm awake."

"May I ask you something?"

"Always."

She tried to think of how to lead into her questions, but couldn't think of anything relevant. So, she just asked the first question and braced herself for the answer.

"The Inquisition won't last forever. If we survive... what will you do when this is over?"

It took him a moment to answer. She didn't dare lift her head to look in his face. Finally, he spoke hesitantly.

"To be honest, I hadn't given it much thought until recently. I'm not used to having so many... possibilities."

She hoped he would continue, but he seemed content to let the response rest there. She couldn't help pushing just a little.

"You could go to Orlais. Be Celene's military advisor. I'm sure the chevaliers would follow you around the Winter Palace like loyal little Mabari puppies."

Cullen chuckled weakly, and then she felt him shiver slightly. "I'd be perfectly happy never again setting foot in the Winter Palace. It wasn't the gossip and backstabbing - I know what the Game entails. But the indifference to it all... no... I don't think there's anything in Orlais for me."

"At least there was dancing."

Cullen laughed outright. "Or an attempt at it, anyway."

Evana shrugged. "I thought you did well."

"Well, I'm grateful for your poor taste in dance partners."

It hadn't been the direction she'd hoped to go, but she was pleased to have made him laugh. In the small pause that followed, he began rubbing small circles on her back, and she had to force herself to focus on her questions instead of his hands.

He hadn't "given it much thought until recently." Did that mean he was thinking about it because of her? Or was there another reason?

"You've certainly become more... Er... popular since our time with the Empress."

He actually groaned at this. "Don't remind me. Leliana is currently collecting all the marriage proposals into a file so she can use me for bait in her little intrigues. You heard her at the war council meeting a few days ago - telling me to 'hush' and 'just look pretty.' I might as well be a piece of meat."

Evana snickered a little, but sobered immediately. "You've received other types of messages since then as well. Not so nice ones."

He went completely still. "Leliana told you about that?"

"I asked."

"How did you know?" he asked, confusion tingeing his voice.

Evana finally pulled away to look at him, propped herself on her elbow, and smiled at him sadly. "I'm not naive, Cullen. I'm a mage. On top of that, I'm an elf, and incidents like the one at the inn are not a new experience for me. It would be odd if the rumors about us didn't generate hateful messages. I know you don't care, but a lot of other people do."

Cullen let out a violent puff of air followed by a vehement, "Fuck them. All of them."

Evana couldn't stifle her surprised laughter nor the teasing in her tone. "Creators! Such a dirty mouth, Commander!"

He gave her a half smile, but the look of anger mixed with sadness remained. He reached up to caress her cheek, and she closed her eyes to revel in the feel of his calloused fingers. A tendril of heat shot through her belly, but she ignored it. Now was certainly not the time for that.

"I mean it," he affirmed. "They can take their unwanted and unwarranted opinions and shove them up their own backsides. I hate that you have to deal with that. I hate that I can't always shield you from it, though I will whenever I can. I don't care what they say or do. You are..." Cullen took a deep breath and then sighed. "They have no idea what they're talking about."

She smiled into his palm and then kissed it gently. She did feel a little better about their future together as human and elf. But again, the moment in which she could reasonably bring up the mage and templar issue seemed to pass. She lay down, and after a time, Cullen's breathing turned deeper. Every so often, he'd murmur something nonsensical through an exhalation. She grinned into his chest, letting the sounds soothe her. It was late, and as much as she wanted to stay awake to enjoy this time, her eyes eventually slid closed in sleep.

 **

 The next morning was a new experience for them both. She woke to the feel of his fingers gently tracing the lines of her vallaslin and smiled before she even opened her eyes when she realized that he'd stayed with her. She cracked an eye to see him watching her.

"Sorry. You looked so beautiful, I couldn't resist touching you."

She felt a bit of heat spread across her face. "No bad dreams?"

"Not one. I think perhaps giving you that coin was the best idea I've ever had. You are far more lucky for me than it ever was. And if it will keep you safe..."

He moved in to kiss her, and she turned away laughing.

"Cullen, my breath is awful!"

He grinned at her and shrugged as well as he could while lying entwined with her on the bed. "So is mine."

She leaned forward and placed a closed-mouth kiss on his lips. "There. Now, we should get up before other people do. There's already enough gossip as it is."

"Gossip?" he asked innocently.

She shot him a disbelieving look as she tried to move away from him. He held onto her tightly, and she flopped back on the bed next to him.

"Yes, gossip. The kind where certain people in our inner circle wonder aloud in my presence exactly how 'well endowed' our Commander is."

Cullen blushed furiously and finally let her go. "Ah... yes... I can't imagine who that might be..."

"I just tell him I don't have any information to add to the discussion as of yet, but from my limited experience, our Commander seems to be well fit in that area."

She hadn't thought it possible, but his face turned even redder. He sat up quickly and cleared his throat.

"You are teasing me, aren’t you?"

She got out of the bed and took a large drink of water, swishing it around to get rid of the sour taste in her mouth, then handed the mug to Cullen. Her tunic and breeches were crumpled from sleep. She usually put on warm pajamas and a metric ton of blankets to sleep, but Cullen heated the bed impossibly well. Her own personal hot water bottle... only much more handsome. She suddenly felt a little too warm.

"Well, I'm sure you know... there is gossip about us. But, yes, I am teasing about that particular scenario." Sort of.

She looked over at the tub, and a devilish grin spread across her face. "However, let me tell you... you haven't seen anything, yet."

She walked to the tub and called down a controlled wall of ice directly into the tub. She immediately hit the ice with a warming spell. It melted with a hiss, filling the room with a light haze of steam. Turning back to him, she walked as seductively as possible to the middle of the room.

"Would you like to watch me bathe, Commander?"

She saw the muscles work in his jaw as he swallowed hard and then clenched his jaw. She also noticed his hands close into fists as he narrowed his eyes and shook his head at her. His voice sounded strained as he replied.

"What if I said yes?"

Without a word - and with only a faint blush - she pulled her tunic over her head to reveal the intricately crafted breast band Josie had picked out for her in Val Royeaux. The barely-there fabric, made of delicately embroidered vines over sheer fabric, left no doubt about her state of arousal. She took a step toward him, dragging the tunic behind her.

"I'm undecided. Should I tell you it comes with matching smalls? Or tell you instead that I rarely wear smalls at all?"

Cullen let out a strangled growl as he vaulted himself off the bed, closed the distance between them in two strides and covered her laughing mouth with his own. His trembling hands smoothed over her bare skin seductively, causing her to sigh lustily into his mouth as the waves of pleasure washed over her. Then, once he had her trembling with need, he abruptly pulled his mouth from hers and walked away without a word, shooting her a wicked smirk as he disappeared behind the banister.

 **

 Later that afternoon, as she walked down the stairs from Cullen's office toward the stables after pulling him away to kiss him breathless as payback, she noticed the gates lifting. Something stirred inside her - a flash of familiarity. She paused to watch, expecting yet another pesky group of nobles. Instead, a lone silhouette, lithe of step and carrying a beautiful elven staff, appeared in the archway. Evana’s breath rushed out of her as if she'd been punched.

She couldn't help it. She ran for him.

He met her rush with open arms and wrapped them around her protectively as she pressed against him and squeezed her arms around his waist. Then, suddenly aware of the people around them, she blushed hotly as she quickly pulled back and put some distance between them. No need to start any false rumors...

"Solas! I can't believe... I mean..." She laughed at herself then continued, "I guess I owe Varric an ale. I wasn't sure you were coming back."

"Neither was I... for a time. But only a short time. You were a true friend. You did everything you could to help. I could hardly abandon you now."

"Where did you go?"

"I found a quiet spot and went to sleep. I visited the place in the Fade where my friend used to be. It's empty, but there are stirrings of energy in the Void. Someday, something new may grow there."

"I hope it's not too difficult to speak of... but I've been wondering... What happens when a spirit dies?"

"It isn't the same as for mortals. The energy of spirits returns to the Fade. If the idea giving the spirit form is strong, or if the memory has shaped other spirits, it may someday rise again."

"You're saying your friend might... come back?"

Solas shook his head sorrowfully. "No, not really. A spirit's natural state is peaceful semi-existence. It is rare to be able to reflect reality. Something similar might form one day, but it might have a different personality. It would likely not remember me."

He paused and looked away from her. Pain flashed across his face, but in a moment, his serene expression returned. If she didn't know him so well, she would have missed it entirely.

"It would not be the friend I knew."

Her heart ached for him. She knew what it was to mourn.

"The next time you have to mourn, you don't need to be alone. You have friends here."

His head dropped. "It's been so long since I could trust anyone."

"I know."

She reached out to touch his arm lightly. The gesture was brief and meant to be comforting, but he looked to her hand and then watched it depart with an intense expression. Looking up again, his eyes burned into her, and she felt another, different flush of heat across her cheeks. Unbidden, their practicing session all those months ago in the Hinterlands flashed through her mind as he tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"I will work on it. And... thank you."

"Oh... o-of course."

"I'll be in my study should you need anything."

She tilted her head in return and watched him depart, her cheeks only now returning to their normal paleness. She needed to be more careful. In her excitement, she'd let down her guard, and that thing - the awkwardness she'd been so careful to avoid since the early days of the Inquisition - had happened again. Her newfound closeness with her friends never caused such difficulties with Varric nor even with the ever flirty Iron Bull, but somehow, the same actions with Solas were taken in a different way than she intended. It didn't help that a part of her seemed to reach out for him any time he was near. She found it disconcerting, and much like the dream the night after that strained practice session, it left her ill at ease. As glad as she was to have him back, a thought rose up in the back of her mind that perhaps it wasn't the best thing after all. He still had his secrets - that much she knew. But he also seemed to have a small hold on her now that she couldn't shake as easily as she had in Haven.

It was too much. She needed a distraction. She'd told Iron Bull she'd drink with him to celebrate the dragon slaying, but in all the preparations, she'd yet to do it. And tonight would be her last chance for some time.

Yes. Drinking myself into a stupor sounds good right about now. I should go find Dorian. He always approves of drinking in excess.

She headed to the library to find the Tevinter mage, passing through the great hall to the stairs leading directly to the second floor in order to avoid Solas' study. And all the while, a slowly dawning realization caused a leaden ball to form in the pit of her stomach.

Maybe... maybe Solas thought of her as more than a friend?

“And I you,” he responded quietly. “But you said that last night.”

“I can only say it once?” she inquired with a little laugh. “Besides, I wasn’t sure if that was just a dream.”

He laughed and pulled her closer as he tried to shut out the doubt and exhaustion that plagued him by replaying her gentle words in his head. A small, involuntary tremor ran through his body as he recalled holding her in the night. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d fallen asleep with her body pressed snugly against his.

“It was no dream. I hope I didn’t wake you when I left.”

“No. When… when did you leave?”

“Later than I should have - it was nearly dawn.”

Just in time to get out of her quarters relatively undetected. He’d met a few early risers on his way through the courtyard, but none of them said anything - not to his face, anyway. A little more gossip to feed the fire, he supposed. That small part of him that preferred privacy was overruled by the much larger part of him that had reveled in the few short hours he’d held her and slept soundly with no nightmares to interrupt his slumber.

He was roused from his musings and let out a short puff of air as he felt her lips ghost across the hollow of his neck. Her voice came again, still a little muffled, but louder this time.

“Where’s your armor, Commander?”

He smiled into her hair. “At the bottom of the stairs. I didn’t want to wake you with all that clanking metal. It seems I needn’t have bothered.”

“But I’m glad you did. It’s far nicer to feel you instead of plate metal.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he murmured. He paused briefly, then added, “Thank you for collecting the letters.”

She let out a short laugh. “You’re very welcome.”

Her breath fanned his neck as she sighed contentedly. Feeling her soft body molded against him, he marveled at how she fit so perfectly with him - as if they were puzzle pieces snapping together. Had the Maker designed them for each other? To be brought together by this trial? It seemed ridiculous to think so, and yet she was his perfect counterbalance in so many ways. Where he was rough and harsh, she was kind and forgiving. Where he was weak, she bolstered him - she had faith in him. He was quick to anger and even vengeful at times, but she was the embodiment of patience.

Yet what did he give her in return? What had he to offer? She’d said that he understood her like no one else. Perhaps he did, but was it enough? He was not worthy of her, that much he knew for sure. And yet he’d selfishly claimed her anyway. Words and deeds spanning more than a decade pushed down on his consciousness - a deep hate for mages that had taken years to overcome, a stringent belief in a black and white world in which templars were a force of good and a fervent denial of the abuses happening all around him. The dream, now more than a week behind him, still haunted his thoughts. Would he have cared for her five years ago? Even three years ago?

And you still need to tell her about the Ferelden Circle… about Uldred. He held her tighter, and another tremor flowed through his body as the horrors he’d buried away long ago threatened to resurface.

“What is it, ma vhenan?”

She hadn’t pulled away, yet, but he could feel her grasp loosening. He drew long, deep breaths as he tightened his arms around her and tried to calm the panic, tried to pull himself out of the dark thoughts. She let out a small huff at his crushing grip and gently pushed away from him. He mumbled an apology, letting his arms fall limply around her. He barely held in a groan as he read the concern written all over her face when she pulled back to look at him.

“Please, tell me?”

He ducked his head and rested his forehead on her shoulder, still breathing deeply. Her hand came up to hold the back of his neck, caressing him as if attempting to sooth him with his own nervous gesture. Another wave of self-loathing and unworthiness pushed up from inside and threatened to overwhelm him. How could he tell her? She already carried so much. She didn’t need to carry his insecurities as well. He would not be a burden to her.

Her head dropped until their cheeks met. He tried to force the emotions back down inside - down where they belonged - but her soft “Cullen?” stopped him. Even if he couldn’t speak now, he couldn’t keep shutting her out like this. Unbidden, a ghost of a thought, of words that weren’t his own, echoed in his head: Uldred marked you but didn’t make you. You stayed you. He shuddered again.

“I can’t speak of it… not… not yet… But I… may I just hold you?”

She took a deep breath and put her hands on either side of his face. He let her gently lift his face until they were looking into each other’s eyes.

“Of course,” she replied with a quiet conviction even his irrational fears couldn’t deny. “I love nothing more than being in your arms.”

Then she wrapped her arms around him once again and simply held him. Her words soothed his anxiety and calmed his fears. She wanted to be with him. She cared for him. Maker only knew why, but it was her choice, too. And she’d chosen him.

He drew a tremulous breath and suddenly pulled her out from under the covers and onto his lap. Burying his head in her neck, he inhaled deeply of the heady blend of flowers and her own particular earthy fragrance. Instead of being drawn into his dark thoughts, he let her presence and the soft caresses of her hands against his neck and shoulders comfort him. He would work harder to be worthy of her. Perhaps someday he could actually be the man she deserved. For now, this was enough.

A calmness settled over them as he closed his eyes and matched his breathing with hers. He couldn’t say how long they sat entwined, but when he opened his eyes, they were enveloped in darkness. He raised his head and let out a long sigh. Leaving her seemed harder each time he had to do it.

“I should return to work.”

A muffled “hmmphf” was her only response as she tightened her arms around him. He let out a breathy laugh.

“I have much to do - and you need to rest. Tomorrow, the work begins. Though I’ve heard you spent today finishing reports?”

“A few.”

“Or all of them?”

Her lips feathered across his neck. He willed his body to remain still as she responded, “Maybe.”

“You’re not good at the resting thing, are you?”

“Not when there’s work to be done. And neither are you.”

Cullen had to laugh at that. “I feel like we’ve had a similar conversation before.”

She pressed her lips firmly into his neck, then nipped at his skin. Despite his attempt at control, he shivered.

“We have. It was about sleeping more.”

“Ahh… yes,” he responded, keeping his voice steady with great effort. “I recall now. We agreed that neither of us would get what we wanted.”

She kissed his neck again, this time a little further up. “Mmmm-hmmmm.”

“Evana…”

He’d meant it to come out as a playful warning, but it came out a breathless plea instead. She took that as encouragement and trailed kisses up his neck, her warm, soft mouth setting fire to his senses with each press of her lush lips. He only had a moment to curse his lack of discipline before his desire for her cleared all other thoughts from his head. Dragging in shallow, tremulous breaths, he let his hands begin to wander across her back and sides, and she sighed lustily into his skin.

She’d been gone so long, he’d started to become used to the dull ache in his chest. With her here, however, he felt so full - of love and of gratitude and of all the things he wanted to say to her. He suddenly wondered how he’d ever survived without her in his life. Maker, what would he do if she…

Her lips danced over his skin with delightful pressure and distracted him from his thoughts. He swept his hands up her ribs, his thumbs brushing over the outer edges of her breasts. Her breath quickened against his skin, and she arched her back into him. Her mouth had nearly reached his ear, but he could wait no longer. He turned his head and claimed her lips with the force of a man too long denied. The feel of her came back to him then - the wet lushness of her lips under his, the soft give of her body under his roving fingers, the small whimpers at the back of her throat as he nibbled her lower lip with his teeth. She opened up to him, and he delved into her, eager to taste her sweetness again.

She tasted of herbs - of mint. He vaguely registered it must have been her healing tea. The thought took hold, however, as his more coherent self admonished that she was still recovering from an unknown reaction. He half-heartedly tried to pull away, but her lips followed him. The heat of her body against his fought with his better judgment, and he allowed her to move off his lap and kneel on the bed beside him. Wrapping his arms fully around her waist to pull her against him again, he lifted his face, and she pressed her lips against his forcefully as her hands alternately caressed his face, neck, shoulders and back, intoxicating him with her passionate response.

Soft fabric caught on his calluses as he kneaded his fingers into her back and hips. The crackle of fabric under his hands only heightened his awareness of her every curve, and his hand skimmed down over her bottom to the back of her thighs and up again. The blood rushed in his ears as he began to move faster - pulling her closer, deepening the kisses, letting his hands come dangerously close to those places he burned to touch.

Warning bells went off in the back of his head, but he didn’t want to stop… Even if he couldn’t tell her now, he could show her how he felt… he could just lay her down and… and… Maker, just a little bit more…

Suddenly, she dragged her lips away from his and laughed breathlessly. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me. I shouldn’t have started that… not here… I mean…” She laughed again and draped her arms over his shoulders, giving him a chagrinned look. “I just missed your touch… your presence… Have I mentioned that I missed you?”

He slid his hands up from dangerous territory to her hips and rested his forehead against her cheek as he attempted to calm his breathing. Unable to help himself, his fingers kneaded into the sensuous dimples on her lower back even as his palms rested on her sides. He marveled again at how small and delicate she seemed. It was a dangerous mistake for her enemies, but here in this darkened room, on her bed, she was even more dangerous to him and his fraying self control. He smiled wryly to himself. How did she manage to strip away his tried and tested iron will in a matter of minutes?

“It’s alright,” he assured her. “It’s not as if I resisted… I mean, it’s not as if I don’t want… to… to… ah…” He laughed wryly, a hand rising up to rub at his neck as he leaned back to look at her. “I only tried to pull away because I remembered you were ill.”

“Hmmmm… I’m feeling much better. I should probably get more sleep, though. And… you said you have work to do?”

“Um… yes. I have much to do to prepare for the peace talks. Leliana and I have nearly completed the details, but I’d like to double check our numbers and go over orders with the soldiers…”

Cullen realized he was suddenly talking about Inquisition matters and blushed. He’d done exactly what he’d warned Leliana against.

“Err… I didn’t really mean to talk about business…”

“I started it, ma vhenan. I’ve been a little under the weather, but I know there’s still much to be done.”

Cullen shook his head in the dark. “But no more for you tonight.”

“Agreed, as long as you promise to go to sleep at a decent hour.”

“I will do my very best.”

In the dim glow of the firelight, he saw her arch an eyebrow at him. Nevertheless, she bent her head to gently kiss him again before climbing over him and offering him a hand up. The gesture was comical, but he placed his hand in hers anyway. She tugged, and when he stood up off the bed, he was reminded forcefully of their size difference.

“To be clear, I don’t want you to leave,” she murmured. “I just know you have to.”

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead as she looked up at him. “I know the feeling. If there were anyone else who could do what you do, I’d send them out to close all the rifts and keep you here. Just to… just to have you always near me.” Bending down, he kissed her deeply before letting her go. “Now, back into bed, Your Worship.”

“But I was going to-”

“You need rest. Your Commander commands you back to bed. I know where the door is and… you’ll only distract me if you follow me down the stairs.” She huffed a little, so he swept her up into his arms and kissed her again. “You know exactly what I mean.”

She hummed contentedly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

He reached down to pull back the covers and deposited her gently on the bed. “Goodnight, my dear.”

“Goodnight, ma vhenan. I hope you sleep well.”

Bending down for one final kiss, he moved away from the bed and took the stairs as quickly as possible. He managed to lock the door and put his armor on in the dark - many early mornings had taught him how to do it by feel. Then, he descended the rest of the stairs to the main hall. Crossing through the hall and Solas’ office, he reached his own office to find one of Leliana’s messengers waiting patiently at his own locked door.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh, Commander, ser… yes. Leliana requested I wait here for your report on the Inquisitor’s condition.”

“The Inquisitor is fine.”

The messenger hesitated as Cullen turned away to unlock his door. “Uh… is that… is that all?”

Cullen didn’t bother to hide his frustration. Leliana was still teasing him… through one of her messengers no less. Classic.

“Yes, that is all. Good evening,” he growled.

“Um… very good… yes… Good evening, Com-”

Cullen slammed the door closed before the messenger had even finished speaking.

**

The next day, they met briefly to review Evana’s progress in the Western Approach as well as the content of the letters she’d retrieved from the Emerald Graves.

Cullen moved a piece to the Orlais section of the map. “It looks like the red lyrium is coming from the Emprise du Lion. We’ve sent scouts to the area and should hear back within the next few days. It’s not something we can act on right now, but it will be good to keep tabs on activity. Perhaps once we deal with the peace talks and Grey Wardens, we can focus attention on crippling the red templars.”

Leliana nodded. “I agree that we’ll need to wait. It’s hard to prioritize these things, but at least the red templars are a known threat. Demon armies and entire countries thrown into chaos simply must take precedence.”

Evana nodded, a sardonic smile on her lips. “Pick your battles, as they say. So, shall we begin with the most imminent danger? I can’t wait to practice being smug and uppity.”

Cullen tried in vain to hold back his laughter and ended up letting out a quiet but undignified snort. Evana couldn’t hold back a grin as she turned to him, and they shared a mutual look of amusement. Josephine, however, was not amused.

“Laugh all you like, you two, but this is important. It could spell doom for southern Thedas if Orlais falls into chaos.”

Cullen mumbled an apology while fighting down his grin and heard Evana do the same.

Josephine, somewhat placated, continued, “Leliana and I will take turns practicing scenarios with you for the next few days. We’ll also need to update you on court gossip from the last few weeks. Are you ready to begin?”

Evana took a deep breath and nodded. “Lead the way, Josie.”

They filed out of the war room, and Cullen gave her a quick smile and head tilt as he left Josephine’s office. She returned his smile before Leliana and Josephine captured her attention.

For the next few days, Cullen barely saw her - not that he would have had much time to give her even if she’d been available. The other advisors kept her busy late into the night, and she apologized to him the second day, then again the third and fourth days, for missing their nightly tea. They’d also talked of him teaching her more about chess, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. He did miss it all - missed seeing her - but simply knowing she was there and within a short walk of him if he really needed to see her was comforting.

And he did enjoy the once or twice a day she’d taken to sneaking away to have a “break” with him. After the resulting gossip from their first kiss on the battlements, she’d requested a more secluded spot. The top of the second gate tower, yet to be renovated and close by, hid them from the prying eyes of Skyhold. Their breaks were always much too short, but he came to look forward to the stolen moments in which she greeted him with open arms and warm lips. By the fourth day - after collecting his gloves off the half rotted wood roof at the end of each encounter and even forgetting them completely once - he’d taken to leaving his gloves on his desk when he went to meet her.

The morning of the fifth day came early as they packed up and headed out on horseback. Evana had chosen to bring Cassandra, Cole and Dorian with her. She’d expressed concern in their final meeting at bringing someone from Tevinter, but Leliana had assured her that Dorian’s standing in Imperium society would be enough to keep the nobles from behaving too badly around him or harming their already tenuous standing with the court. Besides, Leliana and Josephine hoped to have the influential Madam de Fer joining them as well, which would greatly improve court opinion.

His mind briefly wandered back to their plan to infiltrate the Winter Palace. Soldiers had left with Leliana’s agents two days earlier and would be traveling in small groups off the main road in order to arrive and get into position before the main envoy arrived. He’d sent some of his best soldiers ahead of them and more now traveled with them as the Inquisitor’s retinue, but the idea of political intrigue and assassination made him uneasy. Balls and masquerades were exactly the kind of thing he hated. He knew Evana felt the same.

Perhaps that was why, as he rode beside her on the Imperial Highway, he could feel the nervous energy radiating off her in waves. They were riding at a quicker pace, which made conversation difficult, but he made note to speak with her about it when they stopped to camp. He chuckled to himself as he recalled the exasperated resignation in Josephine’s face when Leliana, Cullen and Evana had all agreed that the speed of horseback was preferable to a carriage. As a peace offering, they had allowed her to engage carriages to take them from their accommodations in Halamshiral to the Winter Palace. He had no doubt their ride to the palace would be in the form of some overly ornate monstrosity.

Throughout the rest of their first day’s journey, he occasionally caught Evana’s eye to smile at her. The action seemed to calm her, at least for a time. When they finally stopped for the evening, the sun had dropped low in the sky, and the orange-pink streaks of sunset were just beginning to cut through the heavens. It was an odd sight after so many months in the mountains, and Cullen paused while setting up his tent and walked to the edge of the camp to admire the horizon.

“It’s particularly beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

Evana’s soft voice in his ear drew his attention. He looked down to find her standing beside him and smiled at her ever stealthy movements. She’d turned to watch the horizon, but his gaze was caught by her eyes, bright with an emotion he hadn’t seen since their silent walk in the snow at Haven. He recalled how her appreciation for the small moments in life had drawn him to her during those first weeks. He determined he would follow her example and took the opportunity to admire her in all her glory, her silvery hair shining and her full lips glossy in the golden light. He had strong urge to kiss her slowly and try to make her feel even a fraction of what he felt for her now. He knew he couldn’t with all the others there, but a part of him still thrilled at the thought that now she would allow… no, she would welcome his attentions. His chest tightened with emotion. He tried to turn away from her, but instead his eyes roved her profile, memorizing every curve and freckle.

“Enjoying the view, Commander?”

Dorian’s voice cut through his musings, and he quickly turned his head back to the now setting sun. The mage appeared between them, resting one hand on each of their shoulders. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he reached down and placed Cullen’s hand over Evana’s.

“There, that ought to make the view more enjoyable. Let’s settle in to watch, shall we?”

Dorian stepped back a pace but remained behind them to block the view of anyone who might be looking their direction. Cullen’s heart pumped a little faster now, but he didn’t drop her hand. On the contrary, he took a tiny side step closer to her and slid his hand farther around her fingers to grip her hand firmly. She tightened her grip as well. He didn’t know if she looked at him because he didn’t dare turn to look at her again. If he did, he knew he’d kiss her for sure, even with Dorian standing just behind them.

They stood for several minutes in silence before they heard more footsteps behind them. Cullen tensed as Dorian called out a greeting.

“Ahh! Cassandra! Leliana! Josephine! Coming over to enjoy the view as well? Or are you here to scold us for being lazy? Scourge of the earth and all that?”

Cullen felt Evana’s hand twitch in his, and he loosened his grip to let her remove her hand if she wished. He was sure the women already knew about their relationship, but he didn’t want to make Evana uncomfortable. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, but when Cullen didn’t move to release her hand completely, she relaxed and tightened her grip once more. He did the same.

Cassandra came to stand beside Cullen while Leliana and Josephine stood back with Dorian. If any of them noticed the lovers’ entwined hands, they didn’t mention it.

Cassandra scoffed at Dorian’s comment. “We did not come to scold anyone. I happen to enjoy beautiful things, too, you know.”

“So do I. Everyone is so peaceful and quiet right now. Sunsets help.”

No one had seen Cole join them, but he suddenly appeared beside Evana. Cullen had to fight off a grin as Cole slipped his hand into Evana’s free one. The boy was strange, but as the weeks passed, Cullen had found something comforting about him. It wasn’t a feeling he wanted to parse any further, however. He’d rather think of the feel of Evana’s gloved hand in his and the warmth radiating from it, even through the layers of leather.

The seven of them stood there, watching the sun drop steadily behind the horizon. As the final slice of burning light slipped out of sight, the group gradually dispersed. Cassandra and Josephine left to help arrange the evening meal. Leliana went to check on her agents. Cole wandered off mumbling something about “helping” a soldier. Finally, Dorian patted them both on the shoulders.

“Well, I’d love to stand here silently communing with nature a bit longer, but there’s a bottle of wine in my saddlebag calling my name. Don’t let anyone see you canoodling out here. It would be scandalous for the Inquisitor to be caught with her pants down.”

Evana gasped. “Dorian!”

The mage simply laughed and turned to leave them alone. Cullen glanced over to see that her face was, in fact, just as red as his felt. As Dorian moved away from them, Cullen slowly, regretfully, allowed her fingers to slip out of his. Even in the twilight, he knew they would be seen if he continued to hold her hand.

“I should finish setting up my tent. Would you care to join me?”

Despite her cheeks so recently flushed with embarrassment, she raised an eyebrow and faintly smirked at him. “In your tent? Did Dorian put ideas in your head?”

“W-wha- no!”

Much to his chagrin, Cullen’s hand automatically lifted to rub his neck, and he felt the heat suffuse his face yet again. Just when he thought he’d gotten over most of his stuttering foolishness… he vaguely wondered how she would have reacted if he’d said yes. Because in truth, Dorian’s words had put ideas in his head - highly inappropriate ideas he quickly pushed aside. She looked at him with a comical mixture of embarrassment, regret and amusement.

“I’m sorry. I think spending so much time with Dorian, Bull and Varric had a bad effect on me.”

He laughed awkwardly. “It’s alright, Ev- my lady. I was merely wondering…” He cleared his throat as if to clear away the last vestiges of awkwardness. “…if you’d like to speak about whatever has been bothering you all day.”

All the emotion drained from her face and was replaced by uncertainty. “What… what do you mean?”

He realized he truly was beginning to understand her - in this case, perhaps better than she understood herself. From their previous conversations, it was clear that she needed to speak her fears to overcome them, and he was happy to support her now as he had done so many times before. If this was all he could truly offer, he would not waver in encouraging her through her doubts and insecurities. The thought briefly crossed his mind that he might be of a similar persuasion - perhaps that was why burying his own feelings had never really worked for him. This wasn’t about him, though.

Despite who might be watching, he risked taking a step closer to her and spoke in hushed tones. “You’re not the only one who can sense when something is amiss. You’ve been tense all day. Will you tell me why?”

She blushed again, a becoming pink tinging her face in the fading twilight. She looked away from him.

“I’m just worried about the ball. What if…” She paused, her voice small and fragile. Then, the words she’d been holding inside spilled from her like a dam suddenly bursting under the weight of the water behind it. “What if I can’t do this? Even practicing with Leliana and Josephine, I know I’m going to be completely out of my element. I’ve always disliked large crowds - it makes me nervous just thinking about being among all those people. Then to have to pretend to smile, pretend to be cordial and good-natured, and yet also pretend to be mysterious. All the reactions and turns of phrase feel so foreign to me. I just know I’ll mix things up… say the wrong thing to the wrong person. They’ll kick us out… Empress Celene will be assassinated…”

“Evana, stop.”

Cullen put his hands on her arms and nearly pulled her into him before remembering where they were. Instead of holding her to him, he merely caught her gaze before dropping his hands to his sides again.

“I understand your hesitance and worry, but you can’t let this get the best of you. You have been working hard on this, and even if things don’t go perfectly, I have no doubt that you can accomplish what we must. You can save Orlais - if that means saving Celene or taking a different route entirely. Whatever your choices, know that we are all here to help you and advise you as best we can. You won’t be in this alone.”

She gave him a wane smile. “Ma serannas, Cullen. I- I wish you could hold me right now.”

Cullen closed his eyes briefly before opening them to smile back. “Maker knows I do, too.”

They walked back to the camp and joined the rest of the group for dinner. They all ate quickly and headed to their tents, Evana sharing with Cassandra, Leliana with Josephine and Cullen with Dorian. Cole didn’t really need to sleep, but he liked to have a space nonetheless, so Cullen set up a pallet for the boy at the back of his and Dorian’s tent.

The next morning, Cullen sent up silent thanks to the Maker that he’d had a relatively dreamless night. In fact, he’d been feeling much better in the last week. He prayed it would last.

They broke camp before dawn, rode hard and camped again that night. The travel had left them all weary, so they ate in relative silence and retired early. The next day, they arrived at Halamshiral as the afternoon sun bathed the city in a hazy golden light. They settled into their accommodations and met briefly in the Inquisitor’s room to discuss the next evening’s event. Josephine, already in her element, started them off.

“We are invited as Gaspard’s guests, so we will be able to arrive a bit earlier than a majority of the other guests. This means we have more opportunity to mingle and gather information. While the talks commence, the Inquisitor will look for clues about the assassin. We’ll have to be on guard at all times for anything that seems suspicious.”

“Won’t I look suspicious if I’m wandering around the party so much?”

Leliana nodded. “Yes, but that’s why we will disperse ourselves throughout the ballroom and outer rooms to give you an excuse to come speak with us. That will also give you an opportunity to speak with various dignitaries - and possibly some of the servants, too, if you can get them to speak with you.”

Cullen had nothing to add to the conversation, so he remained silent and watched Evana’s shoulders gradually, almost imperceptibly, slope downward. The circles under her eyes had faded a bit but not enough for his liking. Cullen resolved to check on her later that evening after he’d taken care of a few last minute tasks for tomorrow.

The meeting ended with Leliana and Josephine coaxing Evana into going out for a bit to tour the city, so Cullen bowed to them all and headed to his room before they could drag him out, too. After a brief meeting with his Lieutenant to review protocol for entering the palace, he shed his armor and pulled out a few reports and requisitions for the Western Approach that he’d been unable to finish before they left. Three hours later, he was interrupted by a knock at his door. At his word, Josephine swept in with a large bag.

“We’re back with the uniforms for tomorrow. Please try it on tonight and let me know if you need any last minute alterations before the ball. I’ve also taken the liberty of providing you with some day clothes. I’m sure you didn’t bring anything appropriate for tomorrow, did you?”

Confused, Cullen furrowed his brows and motioned to the neat stack of metal and leather on the armor stand next to him. “I have my armor. That will do until I need to change.”

Josephine didn’t bother to hold back a sigh. “No, it will not do. I’ll repeat what I told Cassandra: We are here for peace talks. You cannot be seen walking around the city in armor all day. Wear the clothes I have provided, please.”

“What do you mean ‘walking around the city’? I have work I need-”

“Your work will wait. We must be seen before the ball. After the Inquisitor meets with Madame de Fer for a morning brunch, we’ll be enjoying some afternoon entertainment, then dinner out, then heading back here to change for the evening. Be ready by 2 o'clock, please.”

Cullen swallowed another protest. The look in her eye told him it would be useless anyway. Josephine gave a quick bow and walked to the door but paused before closing it behind her.

“If it helps, the Inquisitor will be there the entire time. The two of you can commiserate on how boring and unnecessary it all is.”

“Yes. Fine,” he replied, trying to keep the terse note from seeping through. “Thank you, Josephine.”

He still wasn’t happy to be wasting an afternoon in the Orlesian city, but the prospect of time with Evana was always pleasant. Perhaps they could find a way to enjoy themselves in spite of the pomp and finery.

The nearby chantry bell rang out eight o'clock. If he was going to check on Evana, he should do it now and then let her sleep. Stowing away the papers in a safe place, he exited his room and walked down the hall to her door. Josephine had ensured all their rooms were in the same wing so they could keep a better eye on security. Still, the large building would be difficult to protect. He silently tried Evana’s door and was gratified to find it locked. He knocked softly.

After a moment, a muffled voice came from the other side of the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Cullen.”

The door opened immediately, and without a word, she grabbed his hand to pull him into her room. Almost before she’d closed the door again, her arms were around his neck, pulling his head down to hers. He gladly accommodated her by bending down to press his lips against hers. The delicate scent of herbs and lilac engulfed him. Lifting a hand to cup her face, he threaded his fingers into her hair and found it slightly damp letting him know she’d likely just bathed. He pushed away the improper thoughts that invaded his mind and focused on the now - the feel of her skin and hair, the way she tasted, the soft sighs as she struggled to pull him closer.

He kept the kiss gentle - he was beginning to see the danger in allowing himself much more than chaste kisses - but more than the feel of her lips against his, he enjoyed simply being able to touch her without fear of someone watching them. He felt the kiss deepening, and they both began to breathe a little heavier. Instead of following his instincts this time, he pulled away just slightly to catch his breath while dropping light kisses on her cheeks, eyelids, nose and jaw.

“Good evening to you, too,” he murmured between kisses.

She laughed breathlessly. “Sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that for two days now.”

“I have no complaints.” He found her hand and brought it to his lips, then pulled her gently to the plush chairs by her fireplace. “How are you holding up? Did you enjoy your tour today?”

“The city is actually quite beautiful, although I suppose it would be to me considering it was originally built by the elves. Dorian insisted on joining us, which I thought would be a good idea until…” She rolled her eyes a little and smiled. “The three of them have strange ideas of fun. We spent much of our tour just looking at people’s clothing. Dorian was properly sarcastic, of course, and Leliana was particularly attentive to the shoes. But it was all lost on me, I’m afraid. I did try, though, for Josie’s sake. I even allowed her to buy… a few things for me.”

She paused, and he thought he saw a faint blush on her cheeks in the firelight.

“That was good of you. I’m sure it made Josephine’s year to be able to buy our practical Dalish Inquisitor a few fine things. What did she get you?”

The blush on Evana’s cheeks deepened. “Uh… just a few items of… of clothing. Some sleeveless tunics for training and… and other… things. Oh! And a new outfit for tomorrow - she insisted it wasn’t appropriate for me to wear my armor around the city. I think she likely had to say that to a few people in our party.”

Cullen was a bit perplexed by her vague answer and apparent embarrassment around the clothes, but he decided not to pursue it further and gave her a sardonic look instead. “Indeed. One does not disobey the ambassador lightly.”

“Josephine Montilyet, part-time diplomat, full-time intimidator of inquisitors, warriors and commanders.”

She laughed to herself, and Cullen joined in with a small chuckle. She looked down and smiled shyly as her hands played with the ties of her robe. With her sudden greeting, he’d barely had time to register what she was wearing. Now, it occurred to him that she’d just had a bath and was now wearing a robe…

No. He couldn’t allow his thoughts to roam in that direction. Eyes up. Ask another question.

“How is it I get this time alone with you? I thought for sure Josephine and Leliana would be pumping you full of last-minute information.”

“Oh, they have been, but I finally sent them away about a half an hour ago. There’s only so much information my brain can process at once. I’m sure it will begin again tomorrow morning.”

“Are you still feeling nervous about tomorrow?”

“A little, but not as much thanks to you. You’re very insightful for a rough and tumble military man, you know?”

He laughed awkwardly, lifting his hand to rub his neck. “Not really… but I suppose I can be about some things… or about people. People I… ah… care about.”

Since admitting they cared for each other as more than friends, they’d really only spent a handful of days together in the last six weeks. It still felt new and almost forbidden to say such things out loud. He’d thought them in his head for months, of course, but the spoken words felt far more potent, more intimate, than they’d ever felt in his head. Even after the few things he’d already spoken - that he’d wanted to kiss her for months, that he wanted to get their relationship right, that she made him happier than he’d ever been - it was a struggle to remember that he was allowed to be open with her now. At least, open enough to mention some of those little things he found so attractive about her. In truth, however, he was terrified of scaring her away with the strength of his feelings. Knowing her as well as he did, he understood that “love” would not be a word she took lightly.

She leaned forward to face him, propped her elbow on the arm of the chair and placed her chin in her palm. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“As am I,” he said in a quiet voice.

She no longer seemed to have as much trouble as he did saying such things, though her cheeks flushed prettily with every admission. He flinched inwardly at his own ineptitude. He’d returned her sentiment, but she deserved more. He had so much he wanted to say, but fear held him back. She smiled softly and blushed again as she noticed his intent gaze.

“It’s nice to see you in a different setting once in awhile. I travel so much - see so many new places I wish I could share with you. I often wonder what you might think of certain landscapes or ruins… though I like coming home to you, too.”

Cullen felt his heart skip a beat at her continued frankness. “Oh?”

“Yes, of course. Don’t you like it when I come back? Or am I just a distraction from your work?”

She was teasing him. The tone of her voice and sparkle in her eye told him as much. He’d noticed her playful attitude coming out more and more as they spent more time together, but considering his recent thoughts, he wanted to give her more than a teasing or flippant answer in return. He swallowed hard. What should he say? Perhaps the simple truth wouldn’t be too much. Yes. Just tell the truth.

He clenched his jaw tightly and determined he would make the most of their time together… starting right now. Taking a deep breath, he locked his eyes on her and held out his hand.

“Come over here, and I’ll tell you.”

She seemed mildly surprised, but gave him a shy smile anyway. Getting up from her chair, she walked the short distance between them and placed her hand in his as she stopped in front of him. He sat up, placed his other hand on her hip and felt his breathing deepen in anticipation. He gently tugged her down into his lap, and she fell willingly, her arms circling loosely around his neck. The desire building inside him threatened to take over his brain completely, but he needed to say this before he lost his nerve. He wanted to hide his head but forced himself to look her in the eyes instead. Clear blue with a ring of violet regarded him with such trust, such admiration. After her candid declaration, he could do no less in return.

“When you leave, I feel… it feels like someone has ripped a hole in my chest. So I work. A lot. And after a week or two, the ache begins to feel normal, and I remember that’s what I used to feel like all the time. Empty - an emptiness I always tried to fill with work and duty. But when you come back…”

He took a deep, shaky breath and finally looked away from her. The intensity of her gaze, and the way her face had changed as he spoke…

“When you come home, you fill me. I feel whole again.”

She didn’t respond, so he tentatively glanced back over at her. The look on her face… had he frightened her? They were together now, but he still felt so insecure - as if she could slip through his fingers at any moment.

Maker, did I ruin it? “I’m sorry. Was that…? I didn’t mean to put that on you. Please forget-”

She stopped his words with a shake of her head and placed thin fingers over his lips before trading them for a brief, fluttering kiss. “Cullen… Cullen, no. Thank you for sharing that with me. I- I feel the same. When we are separated, my heart hurts. You are so important to me. Being away from you is… is like-”

“Like I’m missing part of myself,” he finished in an awed tone.

She nodded as her hand rose to caress his cheek. “Yes,” she whispered.

He pulled her into an embrace and let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. She feels the same. Maker, how…

He pressed fervent lips against her neck, and the air between them changed instantly. Trailing soft kisses along her jaw wasn’t enough. Simply tasting her, touching her, never seemed to be enough. He craved more - wanted her closer. She held his jaw with her small hands, fingers splaying across his cheeks and neck, and guided his lips to hers. Here was the desperation and desire. Here was the need to show her how he felt. Words seemed so inadequate, but as he tasted the sweetness of her mouth, the truth he longed - but also feared - to speak out loud echoed in his head like a mantra.

I love you. I love you. I love you. Maker, how I love you.

They barely registered the knock and simultaneous sound of a key in the door before it opened and Josephine walked in carrying an empty bag. Evana broke away and struggled to stand. Cullen tried to help her but only ended up entangling their limbs even more.

“Inqui- Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t realize… I can come back later.”

There was a sheepish look on her face as the ambassador began backing toward the door, but Evana stopped her. The small sigh passing the elf’s lips as she finally managed to stand up was his only indication she was displeased by the interruption.

“No, it’s alright. We were just… err… talking. What can I do for you?”

Josephine looked back and forth at them. Cullen felt the heat spread up his neck and onto his cheeks. He stood.

“I’ll leave you two to discuss matters.”

Josephine dismissed his offer with a wave of her hand. “No, no, Cullen. I simply came to…” Josephine looked behind her and closed the door. “I came to collect Evana’s armor for Leliana. They are arranging to smuggle it in tonight with the first round of Leliana’s spies. I will be out of your way in no time.”

Cullen debated protesting, but a small hand slipped into his and squeezed. The pleading look on Evana’s face had him sitting down again as she left his side to collect her armor. She wanted him to stay. That was good enough.

His embarrassment subsided as he watched Evana move gracefully around the room. Her compact body seemed to float over the carpet, the overly large robe that should have looked ridiculous on her small body actually enhancing the ethereal effect.

“Leliana already has my staff, I believe,” Evana murmured to Josephine.

Josephine nodded as she folded the boots and light armor into the bag. “Yes, she has it with the other weapons. Once we’re in the palace, Leliana’s spies will ensure it is available to you when you need it. We’ll make sure Dorian, Cole and Cassandra’s armor and weapons are also available.”

Josephine looked up when she was finished packing the bag and smiled at them. “Well, that’s all. Enjoy your evening, you two.”

"Oh, that's not a very interesting story. It's short - what I know of it anyway. I can barely recall the details-"

He laughed. "Sounds like the perfect story."

This was not going well. Not at all.

"Oh, but wouldn't you rather hear something about my childhood? I could tell you quite a few stories about the trouble I got into with Vash'an. He was so patient with me. I was a little... strong willed as a child. Maybe I already told you that, though."

"You did. A little." The humor was gone now, and his voice became soft and tentative. "Evana, is there... is there a reason you don't want to speak of your parents?"

What could she tell him? There was. Of course there was. She only knew what the elders of the clan told her about her father - her mother had never spoken of him, good or bad. The clan members spoke of her father reverently, as was the practice for those who had passed on. And Evana had spent less and less time with her mother after Deshanna took her in. Many of the stories and other small things children might naturally know about their parents were lost to her.

None of that was the real problem, however. It was the before - what her mother did before her parents bonded. She would have to be careful how she phrased things or the story could be problematic. But perhaps she could skim over certain details...

"If it gets boring, please just tell me. I... I don't want you to feel obligated to listen to me ramble."

The humor returned to his voice, and the warm tones hummed through his chest and into her body. "I'm sure it won't be that bad. I want to know more about you, Evana. I wouldn't ask if I weren't truly interested."

She turned and grimaced into his chest. How was she going to do this? The last thing she needed was for him to think he was the sole reason she couldn't... wouldn't go home. They were friends and romantic partners, and he'd indicated he wanted to get things right, so, she knew he wanted some sort of relationship, maybe even a long-term one. Still, she wasn't sure they were ready for this truth. Not yet.

"I should start out with the fact that my mother was a bit unconventional, so her life should not be taken as an example of how the Dalish live. Although, I suppose you could take the reactions of the clan as an example of our customs and expectations." Ugh. This is such a bad idea.

"Fair enough. I think I'm ready."

"Hmmm... ok. Well..."

She paused to consider. How much could she get away with cutting out? Probably a lot if she just kept it short and simple.

"My mother was the daughter of our former Keeper - Keeper Teirnel was her name - my grandmother. From what I understand, my grandmother had high expectations for my mother. But to my grandmother's disappointment, Mother didn't manifest any magical abilities. So, Mother trained as a hunter instead.

"Our clan has always had semi-regular contact with humans, but only when necessary to obtain objects we couldn't otherwise procure for ourselves. We've silently roamed the plains and forests and mountains of the Free Marches for centuries, hunting and living off the land. At the time, my grandmother had been successful at keeping us away from human influence for many years, but it meant moving around much more than before.

"Eventually, many in the clan appealed to Grandmother for a more permanent existence, or at least one not quite so nomadic. So, we set up a few miles from a human colony. Close enough to trade easily, but far enough away to be largely hidden from detection."

She shifted on Cullen's lap until her head was resting more on his shoulder than on his chest. "I should mention that all of this is, of course, second-hand. I wasn't born, yet. My mother told me stories of her younger days, but rarely did she connect dates or locations with her stories. However, Deshanna began teaching me clan history when I became her Second. That this story happened to relate to me was irrelevant. It's the reason I feel the story is trustworthy."

Cullen nodded. "Makes sense."

"When she'd learned enough to prove herself, my mother was placed in a hunting group. The group spent many hours away from the clan. Some complained that she often went off by herself instead of staying with her group, but because she always came back with food, Grandmother allowed it."

Evana paused again. Could she get away with ending the story here? It was worth a try.

"Hunting is a complex group effort. The hunters learn how to move and act as one unit. Therefore, hunters are often bonded early due to the proximity and intimacy cultivated in a hunting group. Despite her solitary tendencies, my mother was eventually bonded to one of the hunters in her group who had expressed interest in her - my father, Fenevris."

When she didn't continue, Cullen finally spoke again. "You must take after her. You have some fairly 'solitary tendencies' yourself."

She elbowed him lightly. "And you don't?"

"I'm the commander of an army," he said seriously. "I have to be a solitary, brooding kind of man."

She giggled softly through her nose. "Hmmm... if you say so."

There was a small pause. "So that's the story, then?"

"The gist of it, yes."

She felt a little bad about leaving out the details, but there was no reason to bring up the more... painful portions of the story. It would only complicate things, for her as well as for him.

"The 'gist'?"

"Well, there's always more to a story, right? I just told the basics. There were other things going on in the clan at the same time, such as some infighting between those who had asked for a more permanent settlement and those who wished to keep moving around. The clan moved shortly after my parents were bonded."

She held her breath. He remained silent for a moment, but then...

"What makes a clan move?"

She cursed internally. "Any number of reasons - food shortages, lack of resources, hostile groups attacking us - but in this case, I think it was simply the unrest I mentioned."

"But why would they want to move if nothing was threatening them at the time? I don't mean to be critical. I just... don't understand."

"Some disliked... proximity to human settlements," she replied carefully.

"So, many in your clan dislike or distrust humans in general, not just soldiers?"

Evana closed her eyes. He could be far too perceptive sometimes. She'd done her best to be vague, but clearly he wasn't satisfied with vague. Irritation - at her own people and their stubbornness more than anything - colored her words as she spoke.

"The Dalish are reclusive and fanatically protective of Elvhen culture. We don't mind interacting with humans to conduct business, but we are typically never... friendly with them. My own story is often used by my clan as a cautionary tale for getting too involved with shemlens... err... with humans. It's one reason I was so reticent when I first joined you all. My withdrawn personality is natural to me, yes, but I was also taught by both tradition and limited experience that all humans would eventually desert and betray me. I certainly never thought any would ever respect me. Of course, I know now that's not true - not after my time with you all trying to save the world. Most Dalish clans don't have the opportunity to interact with humans like you, though."

She could hear his heart beating faster in her ear, but he didn't speak. She regretted her tone, but at least she hadn't had to say explicitly that her clan would reject her relationship with him. She knew he would need time to process what she'd said... and that he would ask about it again later. She would have to be prepared. Eventually, he would need to know the whole truth.

The silence stretched between them, so she filled it with a request of her own. She made sure her tone was soft and conciliatory.

"What about your parents? How did they meet?" She remembered too late that his parents were gone. In a bit of a panic, she added hastily, "Unless... it's too painful to tell..."

Cullen shifted a little, so she sat up to allow him space. He gave her a sad smile and shook his head. "No, it's fine. It's just... I was so young when I left... I guess I wasn't interested in knowing then. And after I left, I wasn't in touch often enough to... learn the story. I'm sure Mia knows."

Cullen looked a bit chagrinned, so she merely smiled at him and shrugged her shoulders. "It's not a big deal. Just tell me something you do remember about your parents."

There was a long pause, and she settled back down against him. Finally, he started speaking.

"I guess the most memorable story about my parents was when my mother was pregnant with my baby sister, Rosalie. I was too young to really remember when Branson was born, but I remember vividly the joy in the house when mother told us we were going to have a baby brother or sister. I remember father looking happier than I'd ever seen him - I'm sure he looked that way when each of us was born, but at the time, it seemed like he was more excited about the baby than he was with any of us." Cullen laughed a little. "I guess I was a little bit jealous. But this story isn't about me. Well, not really, anyway."

He paused, and she felt his hand gently - almost absently - begin to caress her back. "It was a bad winter that year. We had several snow storms. One evening, our neighbor came knocking on our door to say that his prize druffalo had gotten out in the storm. He was terrified to lose the animal - it provided a large portion of their income in selling off breeding rights. Father immediately put on his coat and started out the door. But before he'd even closed the door behind him, Mother had put on her coat and was walking out the door with him."

"Wait, just how pregnant was your mother by this time?"

Cullen laughed. "Very nearly bursting. Father tried to talk her out of it. He cajoled and blustered and pleaded, but she was adamant. She said she was sure the baby was coming soon, and she would be damned if she were going to let my father get out of delivering the baby."

He tried to look down at her at this point, but only managed to brush his chin across her forehead. She leaned back to meet his gaze.

"I should mention that this was one of the only times I remember my mother cursing. She looked positively fierce. Father took notice of that, I guess, because he let her come along. We children went to stay with our neighbor's wife. When they arrived back home late the next day, Father had our neighbor, his druffalo, my mother and my new baby sister all in tow. Apparently, Rosalie had been born in a field in the shelter of a lost druffalo just that morning."

Evana laughed. "Now I know where your stubbornness comes from."

He gave her a mock offended look. "I am not stubborn."

"Mmmmm-hmmmm. If you say so," she responded with another chuckle. "I bet that isn't a story Rosalie is allowed to ever forget."

His smile faded. "I assume not, though it's been some time since I've seen the family."

Evana quickly moved on to another question to avoid any further awkwardness. "How old were you when this happened?"

"I'm not sure," he replied in a pensive tone. "Let's see... Rosie would be around 23 now, so... Six or seven? Mia would have been around 9. I'm sure she remembers it differently than me."

Evana placed a hand on his cheek. "I think I would have liked your mother very much. It sounds like she was a special person."

He closed his eyes briefly and turned to smile into her palm before kissing it and opening his eyes again. "She would have liked you as well. I'm sure of it."

A strange look passed over his face, a mixture of sadness and tenderness that she'd never seen on him before. When they'd spoken of his family previously, he'd had a bit of a detached tone. Not unemotional, just detached - as if he were speaking of a past long gone. Now, he seemed to be speaking of his family as something very much in the present. Perhaps he was beginning to realize all he'd missed.

Ironic. She had resolved to give up her clan - the only family she'd ever known - while Cullen seemed to be longing to reconnect with the family he'd given up 17 years ago in order to become a templar.

She let her hand fall to his chest and snuggled against him again. They sat that way, in silence, for a few moments before Cullen spoke again.

"It's getting late. I should let you sleep. I'm not sure that we'll be getting any sleep at all tomorrow night."

Evana balled her hand into a fist, grasping his tunic. Then, her hand slid around to his neck, and she sat up to kiss him hard. Before he could fully react, she'd broken the kiss and stood up. She wanted to ask him to stay with her. She wanted him to be able to stay with her. But he couldn't, so it was pointless to say anything.

She smiled down at him and offered him a hand up. He smirked at her, took her proffered hands and stood to wrap her in a firm embrace. They walked to the door silently, and he pressed one last kiss to her forehead before slipping out into the darkened hallway.

 **

 Josephine and Leliana woke Evana the next morning to go over final preparations and instructions for the ball. Then, she met with Enchanter Vivienne as previously arranged, and though the woman's attitudes and beliefs about the Circles chaffed at Evana, Madame de Fer's power, the strength of her aura, could not be denied. Reluctantly, Evana accepted her offer to join them and asked that she attend the ball as a member of their entourage. The enchanter agreed while spouting off something condescending, and Evana just barely bit back an acerbic response. She escaped the brunch as soon as possible and headed back to change for her afternoon out with the advisors.

As much as she had been looking forward to spending time in the city with Cullen, the reality was far less pleasing. They had been able to sit next to each other during the afternoon entertainment, but after one instance of snickering a little too loudly at the ridiculously dressed singer, Josie had politely but firmly told them she would separate them if it happened again. And, like chastised children, they had been overly cautious for the remainder of the afternoon. Dinner was no better, and Evana found herself now back in her room in a red and gold uniform jacket adjusting the blue sash across her chest and taking note of how Josephine had arranged her hair.

She hadn't cut it since arriving in Haven, and the gradual growth had snuck up on her. It had been twenty years since she'd experienced the sheer mass and volume of her own hair. She'd hated it as a child. No braid could ever really contain the thick, wavy and somewhat frizzy mess, and she had begun cropping it short at the ripe age of seven after leaning a little too far over the forge. That was really just an excuse, though. Maybe she could even admit now that she'd done it on purpose so her mother would cut it.

Josie had used some sort of hair tonic and a hot iron to curl the strands into smooth, chunky masses. They fell around her face, and even the tips of her small ears were invisible underneath the short, voluminous waves. She found she rather liked the effect and briefly wondered if her hair was long enough to fit into a braid. Leliana had fretted over covering her ears - she didn't want it to seem like they were trying to hide the fact that she was an elf. Evana had merely laughed and pointed to the deep purple tattoos covering her face. No one would mistake this face as anything but Dalish.

Makeup was also a new experience for her, and not necessarily a bad one, though she still preferred her natural face to the feeling of something foreign spread over her skin. And her vallaslin made eye makeup unnecessary anyway. She'd confessed to Leliana her wish to be herself instead of working to impress people who didn't really care about her except as a novelty. With this in mind, Leliana had applied face makeup for a subtle, more natural effect. The shimmering powder covering her face dimmed her ink a bit, but the overall effect was ethereal. In short, even with the minimal changes, Evana hardly recognized herself.

A knock on the door told her it was time. She took one last look at her reflection and then somewhat reluctantly grabbed the small pouch of makeup Leliana had left with her. She might need it to reapply if things turned ugly - which was likely. She opened the door to find a large, handsome man in red and gold waiting for her in the corridor.

"Oh! Cullen. I didn't think... I thought you were Josie."

He raised a sardonic brow but then smiled. "She requested I come up and get you. To my chagrin, she also warned that I'm not allowed to kiss you. Now I know why. You look absolutely lovely, Evana."

He raised the back of her hand to his lips, and she tittered like a young girl. She cringed inwardly at the juvenile display, but Cullen didn't seem to mind. They began walking toward the stairs.

"Did you practice that speech?" she asked nonchalantly, her eyes darting to his face to see his reaction.

Cullen blushed hotly. "What makes you ask that?"

"Because you didn't blush or stutter once, even when mentioning kissing. Either my charms are losing their edge with you... or you practiced."

He only paused a moment to give her a somewhat pained expression before admitting, "Your charms are just as strong as ever. I did practice on the way up here."

"Ah. Well, I did not practice anything as I didn't expect to see you alone, but now that I have the opportunity, I will say that you look quite handsome this evening. I think you might have some trouble keeping the Orlesians at bay. Are you ready for battle, Commander?"

She watched his brow furrow. "I'm always on the ready, my lady."

"Hmmmm... I'm afraid you might not be ready for this battle," she grumbled.

His brow furrowed deeper. "I don't think I quite understand what you're saying." She stopped him with a hand on his arm as they reached the top of the stairs. "Cullen, I have to tell you because I feel like you might not actually know... you are a ridiculously attractive man. And you now hold a very powerful position in an increasingly powerful organization. As far as anyone knows, you are single - not that it would matter to the Orlesians if you weren't. You will be courted tonight... possibly quite heavily. I just want you to be prepared."

She watched as he processed her words, a look of concern growing on his face. "I... I had not thought..." "I hadn't either until Josie and Leliana brought it to my attention as they helped me dress. I think they wanted to prepare me so I wouldn't immolate everyone who propositions you."

Cullen let out a long sigh. "I wish you could."

She gave him an encouraging smile and turned to continue down the stairs. "Come. It's only one night. If I can spend the night sucking up to a bunch of fat heads, you can spend an evening fending off indecent proposals."

"Sounds lovely," he said dryly. "When do we get back to Skyhold again?"

She laughed. "As soon as the Orlesian throne is safely in the hands of... whomever turns out to be the least culpable in this mess. And as soon as we have an alliance with their military."

"That will be a boon indeed. An alliance with Orlais would more than double our numbers."

"And would allow us to safely send our army into the Western Approach to deal with the Grey Wardens."

There was a pause in the conversation, and Cullen finally cleared his throat. "So... you... uh... you think I'm attractive?"

Evana laughed at his obliviousness. "No. I know you are attractive. It's an objective fact. I just happen to be the lucky woman who gets to ogle you any time I like."

Cullen's expression reflected an endearing mixture of pleased and embarrassed. In spite of her instructions from the other advisors, she pulled his face down to hers and brushed a kiss across his lips. He tinged pink and seemed a bit speechless for the rest of the short walk down the stairs. They reached the bottom and were joined by the others. Dorian was the first to speak.

"Well, don't we all look lovely. At least the red will hide the blood spatters... and possibly the spilt wine. Evana, darling, shall we play a drinking game with muttered insults about our respective origins? Who will be more hated - the elf or the 'Vint?"

Josie just sighed. Evana snickered behind her hand. Cullen seemed less amused and gave her a worried look. She met his gaze and shook her head as if to say "don't worry about it." She and Dorian were both accustomed to the prejudices against them. It wasn't right, but neither of them had any other choice. Leliana finally ushered them all out the door.

"We're all here now, so let's not keep Gaspard waiting. We are his guests, after all."

They all filed into the properly ornate carriages Josie had procured for them. Cullen sat next to her and placed his pinkie over hers as their hands rested side-by-side on carriage seat. They looked out their respective windows and ignored the significant looks from Leliana and the knowing smile from Josephine.

When they arrived, Gaspard met them in the courtyard. She spoke with him and found him to be everything she'd anticipated. He minced no words - his ultimate goal was to take the throne from his cousin Celene. His self-confidence alone impressed her, but it also left her with a bad taste in her mouth. Too cocky for his own good. She needed to speak with Celene.

After picking up on a few secrets and garnering a bit of approval from a noblewoman for finding her lost ring, Evana headed inside.

She spent the first part of the evening simply getting her bearings. As expected, her introduction to the court included many snide remarks on the way about being an elf, a savage, a slave. Inside the walls of Skyhold, she'd rarely been exposed to such language and had almost forgotten how the rest of Thedas truly viewed the People. Here, however, she was just another knife-eared rabbit. Despite the rude comments from the court, the Empress Celene was all graciousness - at least in public.

Then Celene introduced her cousin, the Grand Duchess Florianne, and Evana felt her gut clench. Even with the distractions of a room full of secretive people all vying to win the Game, Evana could still recognize the murderous glint in the Duchess' eyes. Evana had learned long ago to trust her instincts, and her gut told her this woman was rotten. She'd have to keep a careful eye on the Duchess this evening.

After her introduction, she made the rounds and eavesdropped as much as possible - her stealth and lightness of foot gave her a clear advantage here. Speaking with the nobles was more difficult. Sometimes she said the right things and made alliances. Other times, she soured the conversation with some horrible misstep. She clenched her jaw in frustration time and again - were these people really worth saving? She grumbled under her breath and ached for something to immolate - to do something she was actually good at.

By the time she finally took the chance to explore the upper rooms, her head swam with secrets and intrigues. Skimming through the rooms as quickly as possible, she hunted down several more secret papers. Apparently, servants were disappearing and the serving elves were terrified. The door to the servants' quarters was locked - she'd already tried to enter early in the evening - but before she could search the darkened rooms further for a key, the bell rang to indicate the beginning of the grand ball. She would be expected to make an appearance.

Pocketing the papers she'd picked up so far, she ran down to the vestibule only to be stopped by a rather frightening looking woman in an Orlesian dress. The woman wasn't wearing a mask, however, and Evana was struck by her golden, cat-like eyes.

"Well, well, what have we here?" she said in a mocking tone. "The leader of the new Inquisition. The fabled Herald of the faith. Delivered from the grasp of the Fade by the hand of the Blessed Andraste herself. What could bring such an exalted creature here to the Imperial Court, I wonder? Do even you know?"

Evana was unsure of the woman's intentions and even less enthused by the woman's sarcastic tone. She decided to keep her guard up.

"We may never know. Courtly intrigues and all that."

"Such intrigues obscure much. But not all. I am Morrigan. Some call me advisor to Empress Celene on matters of the arcane."

So this was Empress Celene's mage advisor. Leliana had warned Evana earlier in the night about how dangerous this woman could be. She was glad she had decided to be cautious.

"You... have been very busy this evening," Morrigan continued, "hunting in every dark corner of the palace. Perhaps you and I hunt the same prey?"

The woman's forwardness surprised Evana. Clearly, Morrigan had been watching her tonight. Perhaps a little vague truthfulness was in order?

"I hope so. I could use another ally here."

"A sentiment I share considering... recent events." "Recent events?"

Morrigan had stopped at the bottom of the stairs to speak, but now she began walking. Evana fell in step beside her. Morrigan's voice lowered to a soft hum in Evana's ear.

"I found - and killed - an unwelcome guest within these very halls. An agent of Tevinter. So I offer you this, Inquisitor. A key found on the Tevinter's body. Where it leads I cannot say. Yet, if Celene is in danger, I cannot leave her side long enough to search. You can."

Morrigan handed a key over, and Evana quickly pocketed it. There were few people around, but who knew what eyes were watching, what ears were listening? Great, I'm becoming absolutely paranoid. And yet she couldn't help remaining suspicious about the mage's motivations.

"What's your interest in protecting Empress Celene. Are you her bodyguard?"

Morrigan laughed. "Do I seem a bodyguard to you?" Her face turned serious. "If anything were to happen to Celene, eyes would turn first to her 'occult advisor.' Even if they knew otherwise. There are sharks in the water, and I will not fall prey to them. Not now. Not ever."

Evana sighed. Morrigan was right. The mage had a vested interest in keeping Celene alive. Neither Gaspard nor Briala would care about Morrigan and were just as likely to kill her as not if Celene were to fall from power. "I wish you hadn't killed the Tevinter agent. He might have had useful information."

"I certainly would not have slain the man on sight had he not attacked me first. I undoubtedly caught him in an illicit act. I did not know from whence he came until after the battle, and regret only that I could not capture him alive. What intentions the Imperium has here I suspect you know far better than I."

"Hmmm, yes..." Evana fidgeted with the key in her pocket. "Briala's people are whispering about disappearances in the servant's quarters. This key may lead there."

"The ambassador does have eyes and ears everywhere, does she not? Proceed with caution Inquisitor. Enemies abound, and not all of them are aligned with Tevinter. What comes next will be most exciting."

Evana had to disagree, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Morrigan left her, and unable to resist the urge, Evana immediately went to test the key. Slipping down the stairs to the door, she heard a satisfying click as the key turned in the lock and watched the door fall open. Quickly locking it again, she went to find Cole, Cassandra and Dorian. Each had taken up a station in a different part of the palace to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. She had yet to speak with them, but she suspected none of them had seen anything. The Orlesians were nothing if not good at saving face and hiding their transgressions.

After directing her team to meet her in the servants' quarters in twenty minutes, Evana went to find Leliana. She was in the ballroom, clearly enjoying watching the people around her. When Evana approached, however, her face turned serious. Evana didn't mince her words.

"I think things are about to get ugly. Where can we find our armor?"

Leliana pursed her lips. "What do we know?"

She related Morrigan's story and then shook her head in frustration. "I think there are likely multiple agents at play here. I don't know who the assassin is, yet, but my gut says it's not Gaspard... Briala seems a more likely choice. And Florianne... she is the one who arranged this entire ball. Perhaps she arranged it so she could kill her cousin? I don't know... but the key Morrigan found on the Tevinter agent leads to the servants' quarters and people are reportedly dying down there. I'd rather not go in without my armor and staff."

Leliana nodded. "If you will go down and unlock the door, I will have my spies transfer the armor and weapons to the servant's quarters. It may take a few moments, but they are at the ready, so it shouldn't be long. Oh, and Inquisitor, on a lighter note - you might take pity on the Commander if you have an opportunity tonight. I'm sure he could use a reprieve from the gaggle of admirers surrounding him."

Evana glanced across the ballroom to find that, as expected, Cullen was surrounded. Poor man. She made note to speak with him after she finished with whatever awaited her in the servant's quarters.

She hurried out of the ballroom and down the stairs, unlocked the door and found a comfortable hiding spot inside to wait. Leliana's agents arrived less than ten minutes later dressed in servant garb and carrying large bags of what looked like flour and other food supplies. They silently placed the bags in the corner and left. Evana left her hiding spot and began rummaging for her things. Dorian arrived just as she was buttoning up her armored coat and Cassandra and Cole were not long after. She unwrapped their weapons, and once everyone changed, they hid their uniforms in the bags and headed out.

It was as she feared. They found the Council of Heralds' emissary dead in the courtyard and Ventori agents all over the place. They fought their way through the halls and corridors - so many agents, so little understanding of what was actually happening. Finally, as they chased what seemed to be the final agent through the hall, Evana watched as a dagger coming from the opposite direction plunged into the agent's eye. She kept her hand on her staff and mana at the ready as the masked woman approached her. The air shimmered with the heaviness of her magic and even Dorian let out a little huff.

"Not so oppressive, if you please," he muttered. "My hair is standing on end. I'll never get it back into place at this rate."

Briala walked up, pulled the dagger from the man's face, and twirled it in her hand as she came to stand in front of Evana. "Fancy meeting you here. Inquisitor Lavellan, slumming in the servants' quarters with the rest of your people for once. We haven't been properly introduced, have we? I'm ambassador Briala."

Evana had suspected as much - it was the pointed ears that gave her away, of course. Briala was an elf, and no other elf here besides herself would be dressed as prettily as the ambassador.

"That was an impressive shot, 'ambassador.'"

"Welcome to the Imperial Court, friend! This is our diplomacy at work." Briala turned and walked out to the balcony. "You cleaned this place out. It will take a month to get all the Tevinter blood off the marble. I came down to save or avenge my missing people, but you've beaten me to it. So, the Council of Heralds' emissary in the courtyard... that's not your work, is it?"

"Gaspard killed him, I think. The knife in his chest has a Chalons crest on the hilt." Unless it was a set up to frame Gaspard. Better to play this one out with Briala before revealing all my cards.

"I knew it! I knew he was smuggling in chevaliers, but killing a council emissary? Bringing Tevinter assassins into the palace? Those are desperate acts. Gaspard must be planning to strike tonight."

She was more than happy to let Gaspard take the blame, apparently. "Are you sure he's behind this? He was too... easygoing for a man plotting treason."

"Don't let his charm blind you. He's Orlesian. That smile is his mask. I misjudged you, Inquisitor. You might just be an ally worth having. What could you do with an army of elven spies at your disposal? You should think about it."

"You know how to make a sales pitch ambassador. I'll give you that."

Briala smiled, and Evana could almost imagine a quirked eyebrow behind the fancy Orlesian mask. "I do, don't I? I know which way the wind is blowing. I'd bet coin that you'll be part of the peace talks before the night is over. And if you happen to lean a little bit our way, it could prove advantageous... to both of us. Just a thought."

With that, Briala jumped off the balcony to the roof below and fluttered out of sight. Cassandra approached and spoke what Evana herself was feeling.

"More politics and double dealing! Is there anyone here who is not corrupt?"

"You?" Evana replied with a faltering smile.

By the time they headed back to change into their uniforms, Evana was just about done in... and yet there was so much more to do. As she made her way back to the ballroom, she had the opportunity to send a couple of men eager to hear about their battle at Haven to Cullen. Hopefully that would offer him a bit of a reprieve. It also offered her an opportunity to search the rooms they had been guarding.

When she returned to the ballroom, she was immediately accosted by the Grand Duchess. Evana's stomach twisted and turned with apprehension and distrust. Oh, yes, this woman was up to no good.

"Inquisitor Lavellan? We met briefly. I am Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalon. Welcome to my party."

In spite of her misgivings, Evana played the part. "Is there something I can do for you, Your Grace?"

"Indeed you can. I believe tonight you and I are both concerned by the actions of... a certain person. Come. Dance with me. Spies will not hear us on the dance floor."

What was this woman playing at? Did she mean to implicate her own brother? Well, if the Duchess meant to dance, Evana would dance. After all, Dorian would be upset if all his lessons went to waste.

"Very well. Shall we dance, Your Grace?"

Florianne was already walking down the steps to the ballroom floor. "I'd be delighted."

As they set up for the dance, the Duchess launched her first question. "Have the Dalish gained a sudden passion for politics? What do you know about our civil war?"

"I assure you, the effect of this war reaches far beyond the borders of the Orlesian Empire."

"Perhaps it does. I should not be surprised to find the Empire is the center of everyone's world. It took great effort to arrange tonight's negotiations. Yet one party would use this occasion for blackest treason. The security of the empire is at stake. Neither one of us wishes to see it fall."

Now was the time for boldness. The Duchess' words were all propriety, but Evana couldn't ignore her gut feeling. "Do we both want that, Lady Florianne?"

"I hope we are of one mind on this."

"In times like these, it's hard to tell friend from foe, is it not, Your Grace?"

Finally Florianne seemed to relent and speak to the point. "I know you arrived here as the guest of my brother, Gaspard, and have been everywhere in the palace... You are a curiosity to many, Inquisitor... and a matter of concern to some."

"Am I the curiosity or the concern to you, Your Grace?"

"A little of both, actually. This evening is of great importance, Inquisitor. I wonder what role you will play in it. Do you even yet know who is friend and who is foe? Who in the court can be trusted?"

"If I've learned anything, Your Grace, it is to put my trust in no one." No one from Orlais, anyway.

They were silent for a moment, and Evana concentrated on the dance. After months of practice, the steps were familiar now. However, the Grand Duchess insisted on leading, so Evana merely focused on being as graceful as possible. She knew it was her best feature when it came to this part of the Game. Finally, the Duchess spoke again.

"In the Winter Palace, everyone is alone. It cannot have escaped your notice that certain parties are engaged in dangerous machinations tonight."

"I thought 'dangerous machinations' were the national sport in Orlais."

Evana noticed the floor had cleared to allow them room to dance and decided to be bold. In one twirl, Evana took over leading and dipped Florianne gracefully to end the dance. An appreciative gasp and then applause arose from the gathered crowd.

"You have little time. The attack will come soon. You must stop Gaspard before he strikes. In the Royal Wing Garden, you will find the captain of my brother's mercenaries. He knows all Gaspard's secrets. I'm sure you can persuade him to be forthcoming." Gut still clenching, Evana bowed to the Grand Duchess to end the dance and threw back over her shoulder as she walked away, "We'll see what the night has in store, won't we?"

As she emerged at the top of the stairs, she was greeting by Josephine and, soon after, Leliana and Cullen. The latter's voice was full of concern as he spoke.

"What happened in the servants' quarters? I heard there was fighting."

She smiled at his concern, but Josephine spoke before Evana could answer him. "I hope you have good news. It appears peace talks are crumbling."

"The Grand Duchess tried to convince me that Gaspard is the traitor, but I don't buy it. Gaspard is scheming, that is certain, but treason? Why go to the trouble of being forthright with a civil war only to turn to subterfuge now?"

Leliana was unconvinced. "Florianne and her brother are thick as thieves, but she would give him up in an instant to save herself."

What followed was an unhelpful descension into bickering about who should be on the Orlesian throne. She knew they only wanted to help her, but with each curt word or dismissive gesture, the world around her seemed to shrink, the pressure suffocating her and creating fissures in her faux calm exterior. How could she decide? She didn't have enough information. And who was she, a Dalish from the Free Marches, to decide anyway?

"You're asking me to decide what's best for Orlais?" she bit out.

Cullen looked at her, understanding in his eyes, but his words only served to reaffirm her doubts. "More than that, whoever controls the Imperial throne will affect all of Thedas."

And in the end, that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? Who would be best for Thedas now and in the future. Josephine was for Celene, Cullen for Gaspard and somewhat surprisingly, Leliana suggested Briala. Evana had to admit that the other elf was a tempting choice. Tonight's derogatory words and backhanded remarks from the nobles had reminded her forcefully that she was viewed as coming from a lesser race. Briala might be able to bring their people a modicum of respect and authority in a world that viewed them as simple slaves and servants.

Finally, she shook her head. "I can't decide this now. I need more information. Florianne said I would find Gaspard's men in the Royal wing, so get me access and get our armor and weapons there as soon as possible. I'll see what else I can find."

She turned to Cullen. "And in the meantime, get our troops in place. Whatever is going to happen, it will happen soon."

Cullen bowed. "At once." As the others turned away, he gave her a small smile. "And please be careful, Inquisitor."

She smiled back at him and then went to tell her companions the plan. She also stopped to speak with the Empress' ladies in waiting and a few other nobles. By the time she made her way down the ballroom again, she saw Cullen across the way, once again surrounded by fawning nobles. Perhaps she could give him a brief reprieve. He saw her coming and started toward her.

"E- Inquisitor, did you need something?"

"I've been talking with some of the nobles. It seems everyone has an opinion on the night's proceedings, but no one has anything truly helpful to say." She sighed. "But really, I thought I'd come over and steal you from your entourage for a few moments. You've attracted quite the following. Who are all these people?"

An edge of frustration slipped into his words. "I don't know, but they won't leave me alone."

"As I suspected," she replied with a mischievous look. "Not enjoying the attention, then?"

He tried to smile, but failed miserably. "Hardly. Anyway, yours..." He stopped suddenly, clearing his throat and looking around him quickly. When he spoke again, he kept his voice low and soft. "... yours is the only attention worth having."

A blush crept up her cheeks at his words. Perhaps she could pull him away from his adoring crowds...

"I don't suppose you'd save a dance for me?"

"No. Thank you."

The response took her by surprise, though she wasn't sure why. After all, Cullen had expressed his distaste for dancing more than once during the lead up to Halamshiral. It had been silly and impulsive to ask in the first place - perhaps a lingering bravado from her win on the dance floor with Florianne.

All she could manage in return was a small, "Oh."

His response was swift and not a little bit terrified. "No! I didn't mean to... Maker's breath! I've answered that question so many times, I'm rejecting it automatically. I'm not one for dancing. The templars never attended balls."

By the time he finished speaking, she'd regained her composure. "It's alright, Cu- Commander. I'm not upset. A little disappointed perhaps. But don't worry..." Mimicking his earlier actions, she lowered her voice so only he could hear her. "...I'll make you pay for it in kisses later."

Cullen smirked and let out a small breath. He seemed like he might reply, but just then, Leliana caught Evana's eye. With a tiny tilt of her head, the spymaster motioned her to the vestibule.

"It's time. Be ready. I have a feeling this won't take long."

He bowed. "I await your signal."

She was right. It didn't take long. After wandering around the Royal Wing and discovering an interesting and likely useful connection between Briala and Celene in the Empress' secret vault, Evana felt her mark burst to life as they approached an inner courtyard. There was a rift here?

Opening the doors, they found themselves surrounded by archers... and demons. There was, in fact, a rift here. And when Florianne marched out onto the balcony above and revealed her connection to Corypheus - her delusions of the darkspawn magister making her some kind of ruler over all of Thedas - Evana wished she could be surprised. Instead, she only hoped she could fight through all the archers and demons in time get back to the ballroom before Florianne assassinated her own cousin.

With both herself and Dorian in the group, they had barriers up before the archers could even think about releasing their arrows. In another instant, Cole disappeared into stealth while the rest of them jumped into the fray. Cole expertly picked off the archers one-by-one, and soon, they'd cleared the courtyard. When the enemies were finally defeated, she closed the rift and then freed a man who once and for all confirmed Gaspard's treason. The man affirmed he had been hired to help the Duke start a coup.

Armed with this knowledge, Evana ran out of the royal wing, through the vestibule and past the scandalized whispers of the court nobles. There was no time now to change back into the uniform. She was covered in sweat and ichor and her armor covered in blood, but she hardly cared. Not for their opinions. Not anymore. Cullen met her halfway to the front of the room, where Celene was preparing to address the court. The look of relief on his face was soon replaced by concern as he took in her appearance.

"Thank the Maker you're back. The Empress will begin her speech soon. What did you find out?"

The adrenaline pumped through her veins. She had to stop this.

"It was Florianne all along. I knew it! Just wait here. I'm going to have a word with the Grand Duchess."

"But there's no time! The Empress will begin her speech any moment-"

"Which is why I need to go now. Trust me, Cullen."

She left him and took the stairs down to the dance floor. Those who had not yet seen her gasped in astonishment, and a loud murmur went through the court. She began walking slowly up the stairs to the mezzanine floor where Florianne stood with Gaspard and Briala.

"We owe the court one more show, don't you think, Your Grace?"

The murmurs grew louder. Florianne turned slowly, and despite her mask, Evana saw the fear in the Grand Duchess' eyes. Evana meandered toward her quarry, a studied carelessness in her posture. They wanted a game? She'd play their game, alright.

"The eyes of every noble in the court are upon are upon us, Your Grace. Remember to smile. This is your party. You wouldn't want them to think you had lost control."

As Evana slowly climbed the stairs, Florianne began backing away. "Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?"

"Really? I seem to recall you saying..." Evana raised her voice. She typically only used her strong voice during battle, but Evana now understood what she never had through all her lessons with Leliana and Josephine. This was a battle. "'All I need is to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike.' And when your archers failed to kill me in the garden..." A shocked gasp went up from the crowd. "I feared you wouldn't save me this last dance. It's so easy to lose your good graces. You even framed your brother for the murder of a council emissary." Evana's voice, clear and strong, echoed throughout the now silent ballroom. "It was an ambitious plan. Celene, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds... all your enemies under one roof."

Florianne looked perfectly wild in the eyes. "This is very entertaining. But you do not imagine anyone believes your wild stories?"

Celene, who had been listening from the balcony above the mezzanine, chimed in. "That would be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin."

Florianne gasped and turned toward her brother, who had steadily backed away from his sister as Evana spoke. "Gaspard? You cannot believe this! You know I would never... Gaspard?"

But the Duke, along with Briala, were already turning away from her without a word. Evana watched as guards cornered Florianne.

"You lost this fight ages ago, Your Grace. You're just the last to find out."

With that, Evana turned away from the Grand Duchess as if the other woman no longer existed. The threat had been mitigated. Celene would live... but the throne was far from secure. She looked up at where the Empress stood above her.

"Your Imperial Majesty, I think we should speak in private. Elsewhere."

The Empress nodded, and a strange calm flowed through Evana as she approached and bowed to Celene. Gaspard and Briala joined them, and they made for the nearby balcony while Evana catalogued her successes. She'd collected numerous secrets for Leliana, beaten Florianne at her own game and ultimately foiled Corypheus' plans. She'd won the night in spite of the court's animosity and thinly veiled contempt, and a vicious sort of pride welled up inside her at the thought of the praise now dripping from lips that had not long ago whispered hateful slurs to her from behind cowardly masks.

Evana startled and looked up. Speaking of...

"Yes... yes, of course. Just... tired."

Varric let out a grunt. She could tell he was about to say something more, but Dorian's laughter coming from the creek caught their attention. Evana glanced over to see the Iron Bull sauntering out of the creek wearing absolutely nothing. Elves didn't have issues with nudity like most humans, but the Qunari was something else altogether. She raised a hand to shield her eyes and turned away, half laughing and half embarrassed. She hadn't blushed that hotly since Dorian tried to get her to talk about Cullen's... attributes during their time in the Western Approach. She had, of course, flatly refused to talk about it. There wasn't much to talk about, anyway, but Dorian didn't need to know that.

"Creators, Bull! Cover that thing up! You'll scare off the natives and all the wildlife." She glanced over again, but Bull just laughed at her and turned around to show off his backside. She rolled her eyes. "What am I going to do with you, Bull?! And people think we Dalish are savages..."

"You know you like it!"

Evana let out an exasperated sigh. She shared a smile with Varric who then shouted back, "I'm sure someone likes it, isn't that right, Sparkler?"

Dorian let out a haughty, fake laugh. "What was that, dwarf? I couldn't hear your sad attempt at humor over the sound of my own brilliant sarcasm."

Varric chuckled, and Evana gave the dwarf a knowing look. Bull and Dorian had been playing cat and mouse the entire trip... well, in truth, Bull had mostly been baiting Dorian with highly descriptive come-ons. It was equal parts hysterically funny and a little bit uncomfortable for her, especially considering how graphic Bull's come-ons tended to be. Dorian met each attempt with disdain, but she wondered if, underneath it all, Dorian wasn't a bit pleased with the attention.

Turning back, she saw Bull and Dorian emerging from the water, the former still naked as the day he was born, the latter properly covered with a swath of fabric. Shivering slightly at the idea of the water, she began packing up her reports and other items, placing them on a relatively clean portion of her lap.

They'd set up a few other outposts to help hold the Emerald Graves, but each night, she'd asked the others to return with her to the main forward camp. She wanted to send her daily report and then sleep in a familiar place. What she really wanted, though, was to be back in her warm bed at Skyhold underneath a mountain of blankets. Exhaustion pierced through her every bone and sinew. She felt as if she could sleep a thousand years, and the warmth of her comfortable shemlen bed called to her. Shivering again, she thought about washing the blood and ichor off her armor, but quickly discarded the idea as the very thought of cold water made her cringe and curl in on herself as she organized her papers.

She furrowed her brows as she folded the note from Skyhold and the letters she'd picked up from the smugglers. For the first time, wondered if she might be a little ill. Something had felt off for a while now, but she couldn't quite place it. The mild weather in the Emerald Graves should have been a refreshing change, especially compared to the sandy dry heat of the Western Approach, but she'd been so cold and tired that she could hardly enjoy it. She tried to remember when she'd started feeling off...

"Shit," she cursed under her breath.

She'd noticed faint chills the day of their visit to the temple in the oasis. She'd managed to open all the doors in the cold magic tombs before she'd run out of shards. Why she hadn't put two and two together before, she had no idea. The heat of the Western Approach had perhaps made it less noticeable? Fear pricked at the back of her mind as she wondered whether she might have done herself real harm. Time to go home.

"Good news, everyone!" she called out suddenly. "We ride for Skyhold tomorrow at dawn."

Bull just gave the thumbs up from his seat down by the creek, but Dorian looked at her with relief written all over his face as he shouted up to her. "Finally! I'll need a hot bath, a bed and a large glass of wine the instant we arrive, not necessarily in that order. Maybe two glasses of wine... or a whole bottle."

To her left, Varric's softer voice chimed in. "I'm also glad to hear that, Snowflake. We've had a rough time with so much traveling around." Varric paused cleaning Bianca to give Evana a discerning look. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Varric had already mentioned his concern a couple of times in the past few days, but she'd laughed it off, assured him she was just tired. She tried to uncurl herself, but now that she'd recognized the illness, it seemed that much stronger.

"I'm just tired, Varric. And... cold."

Varric gave her the "Aww, shit!" look. "You're cold? How can you be cold in this weather?"

"I - I don't know. I just am. I think..." She paused and looked away, blushing slightly, then turned back to give him a sardonic smile. "... I might be having a reaction to the magic from the temple."

The look intensified. "Andraste's tits! Yeah, we're definitely heading back tomorrow. And next time, don't try to be a hero. Let us know you're not feeling well, will you?"

"I didn't really notice until now," she offered weakly. "It's subtle. And I think it's worse because of the lack of sleep."

Varric stood up and snapped Bianca in place on his back. "Alright, that's it. Get up. You're going to bed right now."

She frowned and looked at the sky. "But it's only seven... maybe seven thirty..."

"And you'll be asleep before eight. Come on, your Inquisitorialness. Let's go." He turned to the other two, who were still sitting together down by the creek. "Snowflake and I are heading back to camp. Remember, we're leaving before dawn, so don't stay up too late."

"Yes, mother," Dorian called back as he waved them off. "I'll be sure to clean my teeth and wash behind my ears before bed, too."

Varric walked with her up the hill to the camp and found her an empty tent. After she pulled off her soiled armor, she reemerged to request a few blankets. She caught the odd looks out of the corner of her eyes, but in the end, she walked back to her tent with an armful of blankets and assurances that she was welcome to them - no one else wanted them in this weather. Varric had stayed behind to speak to the ranking officer in the camp, and soon after, she noticed that the camp had gone from noisy to dead silent. For her. So she could sleep. Such deference still made her uncomfortable, but she couldn't complain. In the quiet, the sounds of the forest gradually seeped into her tent, cradling her in familiarity - the perfect lullaby for a forest nomad.

As she piled the blankets on top of her and huddled into a ball to conserve warmth, she sent up a small prayer of thanks to her gods - all of them - that she'd been blessed with such amazing friends. It took some time to warm up enough to sleep, but she felt herself drifting soon enough. She fell asleep to the sound of Varric speaking quietly to someone outside her tent.

 **

 Dorian glared at her disapprovingly as they rode side-by-side down the path. "Varric and I spoke last night, and we've agreed - you're never to be trusted with your own health again. If I'd known about your previous issues taking care of yourself in the Fallow Mire, I would've been more alert to your idiocy."

Evana could think of nothing to say, so she remained silent. This seemed to irritate Dorian even more.

"Honestly, Evana, I thought you had more sense than this."

"Clearly, I don't, so you can stop being surprised from here on out."

Her tone came out flat, the exhaustion she felt exhibited in every labored breath between phrases. She wasn't angry. Not really. She knew his reaction came from his fear for her. But his sarcastic disapproval made it difficult for her to speak the reassuring words she knew he wanted to hear - that she would be fine, that it was nothing.

In truth, she didn't know if it was nothing. Her body shook involuntarily from the cold, but it hadn't seemed to worsen since yesterday evening. The exhaustion still plagued her, but the long sleep last night had taken the edge off. She needed Solas to reassure her. How could she comfort Dorian before then?

She'd long ago realized that she no longer had the luxury of surety - if she'd ever really had it. People wanted assurance that she could defeat Corypheus. That she'd been sent by Andraste. But she couldn't tell them that for sure. Josephine seemed to think it necessary to reassure people she was, in fact, Andraste's Herald, but it felt like a lie. Just like reassuring Dorian now would feel like a lie.

"Well, you could at least be a little sorry about it," he muttered.

She sighed heavily and then shivered violently. Dorian reached out to rub her back, and she immediately felt the warmth radiating off his hand. She leaned into his hand while giving him a grateful smile.

"OK. I'm sorry," she placated. "Does that help?"

His hand remained, pouring glorious warmth into her body, but his voice turned petulant. "Not really."

"Will you keep doing that anyway?"

"Of course," he replied haughtily, as if he were offended that she'd asked such a silly question.

She patted his leg and then turned her attention back to the trail in front of them, concentrating on maneuvering her horse through the rocky terrain. They had elected to take the flat route between the Exalted Plains and the Emprise du Lion up to the Imperial Highway. Varric and Bull were scouting ahead to find the last leg of a trail the Inquisition soldiers had sworn would get them to the Imperial Highway and then back to Skyhold in less than three days. Dorian continued to push warming magic into her back as they rode together in silence. After a few minutes, she heard a rider approaching, and then Varric appeared. "Trail is just ahead, Snowflake. Think you can ride hard for a while?"

Dorian's warmth had made her feel almost human again, and she nodded vigorously. "If it means getting back to Skyhold sooner, I can."

Dorian patted her back then withdrew his hand. "That's my girl."

She rounded the bend and saw the trail stretching out in front of them, wide and smooth. Once they reached Bull, the four of them set off, riding as hard as the horses would allow. They reached the highway and rode on, making camp later that evening and rising before dawn to continue down the road. Evana felt like she hadn't slept at all, but the promise of a warm bed in just another day and a half pushed her onward. They made it nearly to the Frostbacks by dusk that evening, and being so close, they pushed on until dark. When they finally made camp, Evana struggled to stay awake long enough to get the saddle off her horse. Bull finally took it from her and pushed her gently toward the bedroll Dorian had laid out for her.

"Go. We'll take care of all this."

"But the watch," she protested. "I didn't take one last night either. I want to pull my weight."

Bull laughed quietly. "Then, based on our weight ratios, you get the first fifteen minutes, and I'll take the next four hours. Besides, we've only got a few hours ride until we reach Skyhold. We'll sleep when we get back."

She relented, but only because she could barely keep her eyes open even while standing up. The next morning, she saw the weariness in her companions as they saddled the horses and prepared to ride, and the twinge of guilt pinched her hard. They were doing all this for her. Because they believed in her - believed she could make things better.

Creators, please let them be right.

They rode into Skyhold with quite a bit more fanfare than usual. Usually, she didn't arrive back until late in the evening after the torches had been lit. Now, though, everyone stopped to welcome and bow to her as she rode past the gates and toward the stables. She wished they wouldn't, but she held herself high anyway. They could not see her weak.

Once they reached the stables, Dorian immediately helped her off the horse, and Bull grabbed her bags while Varric headed toward the keep. Dorian tried to put an arm around her, but she held him off.

"No, I can't be seen needing assistance. It will only worry people. I'll take the back stairs through the basement to get to Solas."

Dorian muttered something about her being an "infuriatingly stubborn woman" as he walked ahead of her up the stairs. Once she passed through the kitchen, however, the other mage was waiting to assist her. And good thing, too - even with help, mounting the stairs to Josephine's office wiped her out. The ambassador wasn't in her office, so Dorian half dragged, half carried her to a chair by the fireplace.

"Just rest now," he ordered as he knelt beside her and pushed more blessed warmth into her body. "Varric will bring Solas to you."

Unable to keep her eyes open, she relaxed into the plush chair by the fire as the warmth radiated from Dorian's hand and Josie's hearty fire and leeched into her frozen limbs. The door opened a moment later, and Solas and Varric entered, speaking in low tones as they approached.

"Lethallan, tell me how you are feeling."

She pried her eyes open to see Solas kneeling beside her, a surprising flicker of concern in his expression. She struggled to sit up taller.

"Tired and cold. I can't seem to get warm since the temple."

Varric spoke up. "We ended up going into the temple in the oasis. She opened some stone boxes and pretty lights flew around the room for a moment before ... entering her, I guess?"

Solas arched an eyebrow. "Pretty lights?"

Varric shrugged. "I don't know what you'd call them. They were wispy and glowed. That's all I know."

"Likely some sort of imbuing magic," Dorian clarified. "I felt nothing malignant about it, however. It's a bit of a mystery why she's reacting so poorly."

Solas and Dorian began debating the finer points of magic theory, and though she tried to keep track of the conversation, she found her eyes drifting shut again. She vaguely registered another person entering the room in a rush, but it wasn't until she heard him speak that she knew Cullen had arrived. The anxiety in his voice made her want to get up and comfort him, but her body wouldn't obey any of her commands. She shivered violently and opened her eyes long enough to see Solas leaning over her again, his hands hovering just above her body. Her eyes searched for Cullen, and she found him pacing in front of the fire. He met her gaze, his face etched with worry bordering on panic.

"Her body is simply adjusting to her new resistance," Solas concluded. "She has apparently been imbued with additional resistance to cold magic, but it is currently causing her to feel the cold more acutely. It will pass, and more quickly with rest and relaxation."

"You're sure? How can you tell?"

Cullen's voice reflected his doubt, but Solas answered with patience. "I am familiar with her aura. It has changed - become stronger. It may be that this is a one-time adjustment or she may have to endure this with each new type of resistance she gains. It is difficult to predict such things without having been there to assess the temple and the type of magic imbuing the resistance. I have settled her magic as best I can, but right now, the best thing for her will be sleep and warmth."

Relieved, Evana opened her eyes and tried to sit up from where she slouched in the chair. Solas had told her what she needed to hear. She wasn't dying, so she didn't need special treatment.

"Ma serannas, lethallin. I will head to my quarters."

She barely got halfway out of the chair before Dorian, Cullen and Solas surrounded her. The others hesitated, but Cullen immediately took hold of her, pulling her from the chair and placing and protective arm around her waist once he'd steadied her.

"Really, I'm fine," she forced herself to say, even though his warm, solid presence comforted her in a way she couldn't define. "To avoid gossip, I should attempt to make it to my quarters alone."

Dorian waggled his fingers in front of her. "Ah, but I can provide the warmth. You're going to stand there and tell me you'll have enough focus and energy left after climbing that loooong flight of stairs to warm your own bed? I think not. Let the tongues wag. You need me."

Cullen loosened his hold enough that she could turn and face him. His eyes betrayed his concern, but he seemed much calmer after Solas' proclamation.

"Dorian is right. You need rest, and he can help you with that." He briefly squeezed her hip before dipping his head and lowering his voice to add, "I'll check on you later."

She gazed into the golden eyes she'd so missed and reluctantly assented to be escorted upstairs by Dorian. Cullen seemed just as reluctant to let her go, but finally, he handed her off to Dorian. Thankfully, only a couple of nobles who had taken to hanging around the great hall were there to see her enter the hall with Dorian's arm around her waist. Just as they were turning to head toward her quarters, Cassandra entered the great hall from the courtyard. She walked quickly down the hall to meet them. "Inquisitor! I heard you had returned. May I assist you?"

"Yes, thank you, Cassandra."

The two had her upstairs in no time. They found a full tub of water waiting for her, so Dorian heated the water as Cassandra helped her undress. She felt a little self conscious in front of Dorian, but the mage just laughed at her.

"Darling, I find you beautiful in the same way I find a sunset beautiful. You are aesthetically pleasing to me, but nothing more."

"That's... good to know, I suppose."

"Take it as a compliment, Your Worship. I don't give them often, but for you, I'll make an exception. Because you've rather grown on me these past few months."

She smiled at him. "That must be why you haven't ditched me for your own bath and a bottle of wine."

Dorian mocked offense, but then shrugged. "Believe you me, I'll get there soon enough. You'll be asleep in no time after your bath."

Indeed, she felt herself drifting to sleep several times before she finally finished cleaning herself entirely. Dorian warmed the water a few times to make sure she wasn't cold and then placed a warming spell in the air around her as she got out and toweled herself dry. He dried her hair while Cassandra pulled out a thick sleeping gown, quickly heated her bed and guided her underneath the blankets.

Evana looked at the mage from her pile of heated blankets. "Dorian, go. You're exhausted. Cassandra will stay here with me, won't you?"

"Of course, Your Worship."

Dorian looked at her through narrowed eyes, but finally shrugged, kissed her on the forehead and practically waltzed out of the room with an "As you wish!"

She laughed weakly at him and then turned to Cassandra, who was now standing a bit awkwardly beside her bed. Evana patted the side of the bed.

"Have a seat. I doubt this will take long. I'm having trouble keeping my eyes open already."

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, but then perched gingerly on the very edge of the bed. "I hope you are comfortable, Inquisitor."

"Yes, thank you. I'm warm for the moment at least." Evana paused, then decided now was as good a time as any. "Cassandra?"

"Yes?"

"Would you call me Evana? Not all the time, of course, but when we're among friends?"

Cassandra seemed a little surprised but answered almost immediately. "I would be happy to... Evana."

"And you don't mind if I call you Cass, do you? If you do, I'll stop right now - I promise."

"I have always tried to avoid the nickname in public, but - as with you - if we only use the name in private, I do not mind."

Evana smiled, but then her face quickly grew serious again. "Oh, I forgot! Could you get the papers from my bag and give them to Cullen? He's waiting for them. I didn't want to risk sending them by crow."

Cassandra smiled and stood from the bed. "I am happy to."

She watched the Seeker pick up a bag to retrieve the letters, but her eyelids were too heavy to watch the progress any more than that. She drifted off to the quiet sound of shuffling papers.

 **

 Evana slept like the dead for hours. She woke once toward evening to relieve herself and eat some broth and bread brought up by Cassandra. After shivering herself warm enough to fall asleep again, she woke a second time in the darkness. She had no idea of the time, but the coldness of the room as well as her full bladder told her it was probably two or three in the morning. She threw the covers back and sucked in a breath as the cold hit her. In the dim light of the dying fire, she barely saw the dark form at the side of her bed before she tripped over it.

"Fenedhis! What-?" "Oooff!!"

After several seconds of flailing limbs, she found herself sitting on the floor, or rather on the lap of someone sitting on the floor. Too weak to summon any magic, she tried to push away but found herself encircled by rather familiar pair of arms.

"Cullen?" "Yes. I'm here." "Wha- what are you doing on the floor, vhenan?"

His pause let her know he was somewhat embarrassed at being caught. "I- I came to check on you, but you were asleep. I thought I'd wait for a while to see if you woke up, and then... I fell asleep."

Her muddled brain still couldn't comprehend his words. "On the floor?"

"Yes? Where else would I..."

"On the couch perhaps, or better yet, in the bed with me, keeping me warm. I'm so c-cold."

As if on cue, her body convulsed with the cold and his warm arms circled around her more tightly. She hummed in appreciation. Unfortunately, it also reminded her why she'd woken in the first place.

"I have to... uh... take care of something. I'll be back."

She returned from her private room to find Cullen, sans armor, sitting on the edge of her bed and looking at her rather shyly in the light of the fire he'd built up in her absence. Even with the extra heat, her body shook with the cold. She ran past him and snuggled down into the blankets, but it was too late. The bed had gone cold. She reached up and tugged at his arm gently.

"P-please, will you stay awhile? I'm so c-cold. At least until I g-get warm? Then you can go... if you w-want."

Cullen didn't say anything. Instead, he pulled off his boots and slid under the blankets next to her. She scooted toward him, and he reached out to pull her back against him, wrapping around her small body in a cocoon of delicious warmth. She let out a loud gush of air as her back met with his solid chest.

"Creators... h-how are you s-so warm?"

He chuckled softly in her ear as his warm breath fanned her neck. "I don't know, but I'm glad I can be of use."

She reached back and pulled his arm around her under the covers. "I m-missed y-you. And n-not just because you're w-warm."

He laughed outright. "I'm glad of that." She felt his lips brush her ear and then her neck, and a different kind of shiver spread through her body. His voice was hesitant as he continued. "But mostly, I- I'm simply glad you have returned and that you... Solas says you will be well soon." He paused and took a deep breath before whispering, "I... I missed you so much."

She couldn't respond. Her heart was too full. She let the silence lay over them like a comfortable blanket as his warmth radiated through her. The shivers diminished to the occasional shudder. Each time a shudder ran through her, she would feel an almost imperceptible tightening of Cullen's arm around her, as if he were trying to pull her even closer. She felt herself beginning to drift again, but part of her wanted to stay awake - to savor the feel of him so close to her. It couldn't last, though. She was far too tired to keep sleep at bay.

She woke again mid morning, and she was alone. Someone had left a tray of porridge and some fruit on her bedside table, and they must have built up the fire again, too. She assumed Cullen had left as soon as she'd fallen asleep, but she couldn't be sure.

She smiled to herself as she recalled the feeling of his body next to hers. Her craving for his touch still surprised her. Even something as simple as a brush of the back of his hand was enough to fluster her completely. To feel him next to her, the length of his body curling around her - it was almost too much.

And yet not enough.

She threw back the covers and realized that, for the first time in days, she didn't feel like she might freeze to death. The occasional chill ran through her, but she didn't want to stay in bed any longer. Opening the curtains wide, she let the sunlight filter into the room and then sat down in the expanse of sun cutting across the carpeted floor. She heated the stone cold porridge and began sifting through four weeks of reports. The mountainous pile was daunting, but she soon realized a majority were simply reports from her advisors to keep her informed about matters they'd dealt with in her absence. She dug in and started reading.

A couple of hours later, the sun had shifted angles, so she grabbed a blanket and transferred her work to the couch. Slightly after the noon hour, she heard a faint click of her lock and rattle at the door. Solas appeared at the top of the stairs with a tray in hand.

"Good morning... or should I say afternoon?" she called to him.

Solas turned in the direction of her voice and nodded to her. "I have brought you some broth and bread for lunch... unless you feel well enough to come downstairs?"

Evana didn't want to stay in bed, but she also had no desire to show herself to anyone either. "I think I'd like to stay bundled up here next to the fire, if that's alright with my friends and advisors."

Solas gave her a soft smile as he approached with the tray. "Ma nuvenin, lethallan. I also came up to examine you briefly. May I? I would like to confirm that the adjustment of your body to the new resistance is progressing as I thought it might."

"Of course."

Solas set the tray on the table and crouched in front of her. He raised his hands to hover close to her as she sat. His magic flowed over her, and she briefly closed her eyes, feeling herself pulled toward him. Confused, she flushed slightly and glanced at Solas. Thankfully, he was not looking at her face. She swallowed hard and tried to focus on something - anything - else. After a few moments, he nodded and stood.

"It is as I thought. I have further settled your magic, but keep yourself warm and continue to rest today. You should be back to normal by tomorrow."

He then bowed and turned away, as if he were going to leave. The words left her mouth before she could think better of them.

"Will you not keep me company for a while, Solas?"

He looked back at her and a shadow passed across his face. The next moment, the shadow disappeared as if it had never been, and he turned back to sit in the space she cleared for him on the couch.

"I am glad that you are feeling better," he began quietly. "Dorian and I have discussed the various possibilities and have yet to come up with a viable explanation to the severity of your reaction. However, I do not believe you were in any real danger, despite appearances."

"Ma serannas. I have to admit - I was relieved by your assurances yesterday. I thought perhaps... perhaps I might have been foolish to just accept the magic instead of be wary of it."

"You were worried you had poisoned yourself with magic?"

"It is possible."

Solas considered. "Yes, I suppose it is for lesser people. But you are not one of those lesser people. You are strong and wise and willful. I have great respect for you, lethallan."

Her mouth gaped open, but she quickly shut it and smiled warmly at him. "Ma serannas. I feel the same about you, lethallin. I respect you and your talents greatly."

A sad smile passed over his face, but it quickly faded to serenity. "The peace talks at Halamshiral are approaching quickly. Have you thought of who you will take with you?"

"There are so many reasons I might take each of you. I think I've settled on Cassandra for sure. She'll hate it all, but her connection to nobility lends credence to our position in the Game."

Solas nodded thoughtfully. "Have you considered Cole? He might help you sort through all the intrigue."

"I thought of that, but I'm worried so many people would be distracting for him. I'll certainly consider it. I'd rather let Varric rest before the assault on Adamant. And Sera..."

"Would not do well in a ballroom full of nobles."

Evana sighed and shot Solas a wry grin. "Precisely. This is another moment when I feel I did our cause an injustice by ignoring Madame de Fer's invitation up to now. She would be an asset in this situation. I guess I'll see when I meet with her in Halamshiral."

"I understand your point, but I feel I must caution you. She is misguided about mages and believes that Circles are a good thing. She is willfully stubborn. Nothing you say will ever change that - which means instead of a help during this time, she would be constantly questioning your decisions. We do not need her. She needs us. Do not forget that."

Evana tried to hide her grin but finally gave up. "We are of one mind on that, at least."

"I have found us to be of one mind on a great many things. Those few things on which we do not see eye to eye should not define our relationship, do you not agree?"

She tried not to react to Solas' word choice but answered carefully nonetheless. "I do agree. I value your friendship and council. I hope we can always be as open and honest with each other as we are now."

Solas said nothing but turned his eyes away from her. They sat for a few moments in silence. Then he shook his head.

"I should go."

"Oh... alright." He stood and walked to the door, but she stopped him with her words. "Whatever it is, Solas - whatever makes you sad - I'm sorry for it."

His back was still to her, straight and tense. After a moment, he turned his head slightly toward her and spoke.

"I know, lethallan."

He quickly disappeared down the stairs, and she was left alone with her reports once more. Despite her time with Solas practicing her focus, learning new spells and reviewing healing spells, he was still a mystery to her - impenetrable and a little bit frightening - but he'd always been kind.

Kind but distant and uncommunicative... just like Hanir.

And suddenly, her initial wariness of him made a lot more sense. She knew logically that they weren't the same person, of course, but the similarities had been enough for her to keep her distance - that and her distinct feeling that he was hiding something. The feeling had only grown since she'd known him, and unlike Varric, she knew she hadn't uncovered the source of her gut feeling.

Solas' secrets were not her concern, however. Or, at least she hoped they weren't. It seemed secrets in the inner circle always ended up being connected to the Inquisition in one way or another.

Her eyes wandered to the reports sitting in her lap, but she pushed them aside to eat. Bull had harped at her constantly about her eating - or lack thereof - so she'd taken to eating whatever they put in front of her whether hungry or not. Although she hadn't gained any weight with the travel rations, she hadn't lost anything in the last couple of weeks either. She wasn't about to give Bull another reason to be mother hen. Besides, she still had a few more hours of reading reports to get through the stack on her desk. Then maybe she'd take a nap.

A few seconds or minutes later - she could hardly keep track - he broke the kiss. Her lips felt gloriously bruised from his assault on them, her every sense heightened by his closeness, his touch. His ragged breathing matched her own, but as he pulled back to meet her gaze, she could see her old enemy in his eyes - doubt. Panic welled up in her chest, her fingers twining desperately with his mantle as if to hold him, to keep him, and she swallowed hard as he murmured out an apology.

"I'm sorry... that was... uh... really nice."

As he spoke, his worried expression turned to a small smile, but his demeanor left her unsure. The frightened words tumbled over her lips before she could stop them.

"You don't regret it, do you?"

The astonishment that crossed his handsome features quelled her panic a bit. Still, her heart beat rapidly, a specter of loss and wretched rejection hanging over her shoulder.

"What?" he asked in a surprised tone. "No! No... not at all."

Instantly, the ghost of unwelcome memories fled, and she smiled up at him in relief. As if to emphasize his assertions, he gently tipped her chin up and claimed her lips again. Where the first kiss had been all desperation and want, this kiss emerged as gentle, tentative and exploring. He brushed his lips over hers - once, twice - before settling his lips more firmly and moving to lightly pull at her lower lip. Her hands clung tighter to his mantle as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. He slid the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips as if requesting access, and she tentatively opened to him. She'd seen such things before, of course, but she never could've imagined the glorious feel of his tongue licking into her mouth as he began exploring. He tasted of tea and honey and something distinctly him, and the deep ache in her belly dropped lower. Before she could stop herself, she sighed lustily into his mouth.

He broke away to rest his forehead against hers, his shoulders rising and falling with deep, tremulous breaths. His body wrapped protectively around hers, and a hoarse voice sent shivers down her spine when he finally spoke.

"Maker's breath... Evana..."

He pulled back, and his eyes raked over her face in naked admiration. The sensuous way her name slid over his lips chased away any remaining doubts she might've had about his desires. He truly cared for her. Enough to kiss her like... like that. Creators have mercy, now that she'd experienced such kisses, she thought she'd never be able to live without them.

A door slammed shut somewhere along the battlements, and her thoughts turned abruptly to their precarious position. Surely he wouldn't wish to be seen by his soldiers?

"Cullen," she breathed. "I don't want to move, but... we are out on the battlements."

He closed his eyes and smiled. "Hmmm, yes. Where everyone can see us."

She raised an eyebrow in surprise at his calm reaction. "Exactly."

"Is it awful that I don't care right now? I know I will later, but..." A strange, weighty kind of joy pushed out of her heart to inflate her chest. She stood on the tips of her toes and gently brushed a kiss across his scruffy chin.

"It's OK. But just know that I hereby give you permission to kiss me whenever you like."

He opened his eyes again, and a flash of surprise crossed his face before it morphed into a smirk and a quirked brow. "Whenever? That could be dangerous."

"No, it won't. I know you too well. You'd be too embarrassed to do anything really risqué."

He leaned forward, his eyes soft and teasing. "Hmmm... perhaps you're right... or perhaps I'll make it my mission to kiss you in every room in Skyhold." Her eyes widened slightly, and he chuckled. "As long as we're the only ones in the room."

She laughed, too. He sighed, leaned down to brush a kiss across her willing lips and then tightened his arms around her.

"I just want to savor this moment," he whispered.

Every press of his lips against hers made it harder to think, but that sentiment she could process easily. "Me, too, ma vhenan."

Cullen gave her a half smile, the scar on his upper lip crinkling seductively. "I suppose I can ask what that means now?"

She startled a little at his question. Hazy memories of the night she returned from Crestwood floated through her consciousness, and she tinged red.

"Oh... um... it means 'my heart.' It's a term of endearment for a..." She paused to look away shyly, then looked back at him out of the corner of her eye. "... for a lover."

She saw Cullen swallow, and his face went serious. "You called me that the night you came back from Crestwood. That and ma vhenan'ara. My heart something...?"

Her face burned hotter in embarrassment. So she had said something to him.

"I- I did? I said ma vhenan'ara? It means... um... 'my heart's desire'... I thought maybe I'd said something to you, but I couldn't quite remember. And then you didn't say anything, so I thought I must've dreamed it."

"And I didn't want to embarrass you by asking what it meant." He let out a breathless laugh. "I didn't know if you even knew who you were talking to at the time. I'll have to get better at this language of yours..." He paused and then quirked an eyebrow at her, his expression a mixture of teasing and boyish shyness. "So... I'm your heart's desire?"

If she blushed any hotter, she'd likely combust. Even still, his kisses had bolstered her confidence, and she raised herself up on her toes to whisper in his ear.

"Of course, ma vhenan."

His eyes had fluttered closed by the time she lowered herself to look in his face. The tender look he gave her when he finally opened them again made her positively melt. She gazed into his honey eyes, and he kissed her yet again, this time a lingering, soft kiss that spoke of more to come. His hands shifted slightly, gloved fingers kneading into her back. Ecstasy.

As he broke the kiss, she asked tentatively, "Will you... come by my quarters tonight? For tea?"

He nodded, and his lips pressed into hers one final time before reluctantly moving away from her. They walked together, back to their usual comfortable silence but now with an added undercurrent of joy and contentment. It was done, and he did care. She barely contained a dance of elation as they leisurely walked along, side by side. She stopped when they came to the stairs leading down to the upper courtyard.

"I have to meet with Josephine and Solas today, but I should be in my quarters going over reports by seven or eight. Any time after that..."

"I'll try to make it sooner rather than later," he assured her as he raised a hand to cup her cheek.

"Good."

She gave him a shy smile and reluctantly pulled away from his touch. The overwhelming lightness inside quickly subsumed the momentary sense of loss, and she skipped down the steps to her lesson with Josephine. She didn't think she'd tell the ambassador about this quite yet. It was nice having a bit of a secret... for now. The way gossip spread in the insular community, it surely wouldn't be long before all of Skyhold knew. They probably shouldn't have kissed so long on the battlements.

She couldn't really bring herself to regret it, though. Creators, just thinking about his lips on hers, the feel of his scar under her mouth and his hands massaging her back... heat crept into her face even as she tried to put on a professional facade for her meeting with Josephine.

Leliana was leaning on the edge of Josephine's desk when Evana entered, and the look on the spymaster's face burst Evana's hopeful if naïve bubble of secrecy. She tried to quell the extra surge of dislike for that particular messenger.

"Well, hellooo, Inquisitor."

Leliana's sing-songy tone said everything. Evana used every trick in Josephine's book she could think of and managed to retain an innocent expression.

"Hello, Leliana," she returned with a cheerful smile. "I didn't expect to see you here today."

Both the women raised an eyebrow - Leliana in disbelief and Josephine in astonished pleasure. But Evana was up against the best. They'd break her eventually. Sighing, she took a seat in her usual chair by the fire.

"Well, this seems like a good learning opportunity. If I want to remain secretive, but not let people around me know I'm keeping secrets, how would I go about that?"

Josephine's mouth quirked in amusement, but she took the matter seriously nonetheless. "Well, you'd flatter and pander mostly, then gradually turn the conversation to another topic, preferably a controversial one."

"I would simply have my spies poison whoever had the gall to ask too many questions."

Josephine laughed and lightly smacked Leliana on the arm. "Oh! You most certainly would not. You would weave your words around this way and that until no one had any memory of the previous conversation."

Leliana nodded. "Perhaps you're right. But that tactic won't work for our Inquisitor because I already know the secret. I just need her to spill the juicy details."

Evana finally gave up and buried her face in her hands. The two women giggled - actually giggled - and Evana mumbled through her hands, "What do you know?"

Leliana gladly filled her in. "Well, I know that you and our ruggedly handsome Commander have been spending quite a bit of time together... alone. And then my petrified messenger tells me he found you two looking rather... close on the battlements."

Evana let her hands drop to her lap but didn't look up. "You'd best not tell Cullen. Did your messenger happen to tell you he nearly got thrown over the battlements for interrupting?"

"Interrupting? Interrupting what?" Josephine breathed.

Evana got goose bumps all over again as she remembered his embrace - his kisses. She couldn't keep the embarrassed grin from her face.

Leliana pointed at her and let loose a triumphant, "Ah ha!"

Evana threw up her hands in mock surrender, still grinning stupidly. "Alright, fine! Dorian and Cole convinced me to - to take the risk and tell Cullen how I felt. When I asked if he could care for me - a mage - he said he could... Or rather that he did. Then... we... I mean, after an interruption from a clueless young messenger..."

She sighed. Why was it so hard to put this into words?

"Then he kissed me. And it was the most transcendent thing I've ever experienced."

Josephine squeaked in excitement, but Leliana's voice betrayed her surprise. "He... just kissed you?"

Evana finally looked up, brows furrowed. "Just? No, not just. He... kissed me as I've never been kissed before. I don't know how to explain it any better."

Leliana still seemed confused. "But, you two had kissed before, no? I mean, all those late nights..."

"What? No! We've been good friends since Haven, but never anything more. I mean, there was the one time I thought he might kiss me, but other than that..."

Leliana smirked. "So, that was your first kiss? On the battlements where everyone can see you? The dirty dog. I didn't know he had it in him!"

Evana smiled and absently wondered if she'd ever stop blushing today. "I thought of that. It was somewhat... sudden, though. He couldn't have known exactly what I was going to say. He might have had an idea, but I'm sure he didn't really plan on kissing me there. It just... happened."

Leliana hummed. "You two are such a mystery to me sometimes, but I'll admit that you are perfect for each other. Neither of you makes a move without thinking on it for at least four times as long as a normal person."

Evana shrugged. "It seems to have worked for us so far."

Josephine sighed dreamily. "Yes, it has." A twinkle in the ambassador's eye put Evana on guard. "And now that you two are together..."

Evana sighed. "Can you give us some time before you start in with the teasing?"

The both shook their heads and Leliana gave her a firm, "Not on your life."

"Well, at least I asked... and remember, I said a little bit!"

"We'll see," Leliana intoned as she left the room for her rookery.

Josephine gathered her things and came over to sit in front of the fire with Evana. She regarded Evana curiously for a moment before speaking in a more serious tone.

"So despite everything, you've decided to be with Cullen?"

Evana nodded and shifted to a more upright posture. She could tell that the ambassador thought the whole thing rather romantic, but there were also practical concerns. Now that Evana had taken this step, there were things she needed to know. Josephine seemed like the best person to ask. Surely the worldly woman who had spent so much time in Orlais would know the best way to go about this kind of thing.

"I do have a small question, though."

Josephine smile softly as she nodded for Evana to continue. Evana took a deep breath and tried to think of a good way to introduce the topic. Nothing subtle came to mind, so she just said it.

"How do I... prevent myself from becoming pregnant? Not that we are," she added quickly. "I mean, obviously. We only just kissed. If he wants to, I would, but... that is..." She sighed at her babbling and ended lamely with, "That's not the point."

Evana dropped her head into her hands to cover her embarrassment. Josephine had the decency not to laugh, but she could tell the ambassador was highly amused by Evana's discomfort.

"Have you... never been with a man, then?"

Evana's head shot up. "Oh, yes. Of course. I mean, I was bonded for almost three years, but elves - well, it's difficult for elves to become pregnant to begin with, and we are so few in number that any child is looked upon as a gift. To deliberately prevent a pregnancy would be an affront to our gods and culture."

Josephine looked a little shocked. "You were bonded? I didn't know. I mean, not that it makes a difference... unless... unless you are still..."

"No, no, he died more than five years ago in the... the attack I told you about."

"I'm so sorry."

Evana smiled wanly. "It was a long time ago."

Josephine quickly took the hint and directed the conversation back to the original topic. "Of course. After our lesson, I will show you the various methods popular with Antivan and Orlesian women. The most effective is a tea you drink daily. I believe we already have some in supply for our troops, so it should be easy to acquire here in Skyhold."

Evana sighed with relief. "Oh, thank you! As I mentioned, I'm not familiar with this particular part of the process."

"Well, forgive my candor, but if you two take as long to bed each other as you took to kiss, you'll have plenty of time to learn about it."

Evana blushed furiously yet again and looked at the papers in Josephine's hands. "Oh, look at that! It's time for our lesson!"

Josephine giggled but thankfully took the hint and started in with the lesson. The rest of the afternoon flew by, her lessons with Josephine and practice with Solas taking all her concentration. Even still, her thoughts often drifted back to that kiss on the battlements, which lead into sensual daydreams of what the evening might bring.

Finally, the day's activities ended, and she returned to her quarters. She quickly changed into a loose, scoop-necked tunic dress and a pair of wool leggings and stretched out on her couch in front of the fire. It was a little after eight, but she didn't feel tired at all. The anticipation of the evening ahead made it especially difficult to concentrate, but she eventually worked through all the day's reports and even managed to complete a final report on her recent trip to Redcliffe. She set it on her desk to dry and picked up a book Leliana had lent her on Orlesian customs. The first few pages left her bored to tears, so she closed the book and leaned back on her couch. She'd just close her eyes for a moment and then get back to work.

She woke to the sound of footsteps on her stairs and a quiet, tentative, "Evana?"

Confused, she sat up and turned to face Cullen as his head peeked over the banister looking toward her bed. Running fingers through her mussed hair, she called back.

"Over here."

His expression reflected a deep sadness as he walked over to her and knelt on the floor in front of her. "I apologize for being so late, but we received word this evening that the entire unit that had been patrolling the stretch of road between here and Redcliffe was killed. I needed to arrange for reinforcements... and let their families know."

Evana closed her eyes, her heart dropping to her stomach. "Oh, no."

She quickly opened her eyes again and placed a hand on Cullen's cheek. News of any deaths always hit him hard. She'd learned that after her first trip to the Hinterlands when a few of the soldiers had perished in the skirmishes. His reaction at their war council meeting afterwards and the fervor with which he'd buried himself in his work afterwards had told her all she needed to know about how much he cared for the men and women in his charge. She also knew the unexpected losses were the ones that hit him hardest. He would blame himself for this - for not anticipating it. She could only be grateful he'd chosen to come to her anyway, to lean on her, to accept her comfort, to share this grief with her instead of burying it away under a load of reports.

He leaned into her hand heavily, taking his turn to close his eyes. Then, slowly - hesitantly - as if allowing her the opportunity to pull away, he leaned forward to gather her into his arms. She silently wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested a hand on the back of his head, and he buried his face in her neck. His arms tightened as she felt him breathe deeply against her skin. They simply held each other for a long moment before he finally pulled away, raised himself off the floor and moved her kettle to the fire. She gathered up the papers strewn all over the couch, set everything in a neat pile on the floor, and stood up to help him with the tea. They moved in silence, taking part in a dance that became more familiar, more comforting each time they repeated it - kettle, mugs, gloves, leaves. She caught his eye, and he smiled weakly at her.

When they'd prepared everything, she set the mugs on a table in front of the couch and patted the seat next to her. He quickly removed his mantle, unsnapped his cuirass and pulled off his pauldrons. He sank into the middle of the couch and relaxed into the plush material with a tired sigh. After a moment, Evana tentatively reached for his hand, turning his arm to work the buckles of his vambrace. The straps were tight but well worn and therefore fairly easy to release. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and watched her work, saying nothing as the vambrace and attached arm piece dropped to the rug. Raising herself on her knees, she leaned over him and did the same to his other arm.

She hesitated. Part of her - the love-sick youth part of her - wanted to straddle him and comfort him with kisses until they both lost all control. The other, more rational, part of her knew that was a bad idea right now. Cullen had been watching her the whole time and finally reached up with his gloriously ungloved hand and pulled her against him. Her back pressed against his side, and his arm wrapped around her front and rested lightly on her collarbone while his hand closed around her shoulder and upper arm. He kissed the top of her head, and she leaned into him, reveling in the warmth and firmness of his body behind her.

Being able to touch him like this, with familiarity and comfort, was almost more than she could bear. The invisible barrier of professionalism and propriety - the barrier that had existed between them and barred them from such intimate physical closeness for so long - had disappeared. She found it both exciting and terrifying. She'd never really done anything like this before.

A few more minutes of silence passed before she heard the kettle boiling and stood up to pour water into their mugs. He'd raised his arm to the back of the couch, so when she returned to hand him a mug, she sat down beside him and pulled her legs up to hug her knees to herself. Now that she could touch him, she found herself wondering if he would find her too needy if she always did. He quickly lowered his arm, however, and she found herself pressed to his side. The contented sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"Comfortable?"

His voice rumbled through her arm where it rested on his side, and she looked up at him and nodded.

"You?" she asked.

He just nodded and gazed at her for a moment as a slew of emotions played across his face. Reaching up to draw his face down to hers, she kissed him lightly and whispered, "Ir abelas, ma vhenan."

Instead of responding, he rested his forehead against hers. Finally, he whispered back, "Ma serannas."

"Do you want to speak about it?"

"I-" he pulled away slightly and gave her a half smile. "Just being here with you - it is enough. Your... presence comforts me."

She smiled and lightly kissed him again before turning back to the fire. Despite how her heart raced at his nearness, she kept her actions chaste and comforting as she tentatively placed a hand on his outer thigh. They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping on their tea. Occasionally, she would look up at him, and he'd give her a soft kiss. Each time, she saw the tension and sadness in his face ease a bit more.

After one such moment, she put her feet back on the floor and leaned forward to put her half-full mug on the table. The watch called out the eleventh hour. She felt him shift behind her as he leaned forward as well, placing his mug on the table beside hers while resting his other hand lightly on the small of her back. She turned to find a peaceful look on his face, and her heart swelled.

"Evana?"

"I'm fine -" she said, pointing at the mug, "just not ready to go to sleep, yet."

He gave her a half smile as the peaceful look gave way to something else entirely. "No?"

"No."

Her heart began pumping double time as she loosely wrapped her arms around his neck. She paused to judge his reaction. His half smile faded as he pulled her against him. His head bent towards hers, and she met him halfway.

All chasteness fled as they came together. His lips pressed into hers softly and repeatedly, changing angles as if testing her reactions. As he explored her lips, she sighed tremulously and tightened her arms around his neck, relishing her ability to touch him. He responded by pulling her more tightly against his chest, his muscular arms flexing deliciously around her body. His hands moved slowly across her back, fingers kneading into her muscles, lips drinking from her as if she were a well in the middle of the desert.

Suddenly, he reached under her and pulled her up so she sat sideways on his lap. Her fingers threaded up and into his soft curls, kissing him harder as his hands continued to stroke her back. She could feel the heat pooling between her legs and moaned softly into his mouth. However, instead of causing him to break the kiss as it had earlier that day, her vocalization seemed to urge him onward. At the feel of the tip of his tongue running along her bottom lip, she opened her mouth to him, and he delved into her. Unfamiliar with the intricacies, she tentatively touched his tongue with hers, and a surge of desire pumped through her when he moaned softly and slanted his mouth more fully over hers. She became bolder, licking into his mouth in the same way he had with her, and his arms tightened even more as he growled his approval. He held her so tightly against him, she felt his heart pounding against her own chest, and their ragged breathing mingled in the otherwise silent room. A trembling hand moved down her back and around to her hip, digging into the soft wool, trying to pull her even closer.

Finally, his mouth moved away from hers, and he began trailing kisses across her jaw. She shivered in ecstasy at the feel of his lips against her sensitive flesh. When he reached her ear, he ran his lips lightly around the shell, and a surge of electricity shot through her body. She half gasped, half moaned his name and arched into him as pleasure diffused through her limbs, leaving her weak with need. She felt a slight tremor and heard a breathless chuckle as he pulled back to look at her with surprise. The naked want in his eyes made her shiver.

"Elven ears are... sensitive," she offered weakly. "Mmmm..." he murmured in response. "I'll have to remember that..."

She blushed at the heat in his tone, but his mouth had already claimed hers yet again. The hand he'd rested on her hip now tentatively moved up under her loose top, fingers sliding along the bare skin of her waist and leaving a trail of searing heat in their wake. Creators, she wanted his hands all over her.

His mouth broke from hers again, this time to trail kisses down her neck, his ragged breaths hot and heavy on her skin. She hummed in appreciation as his tentative hands slid a little higher and around to her back. His calluses raked across the small of her back as his mouth reached the hollow of her throat, and the hoarseness in his voice only heightened her arousal as he breathed against her neck.

"Maker, Evana..."

"Cullen... please," she gasped breathlessly.

She hardly knew what she was begging him for. She only knew she wanted more. He groaned into her throat and then began trailing kisses along her exposed collarbone. She felt his other hand slide under her tunic and tentatively up her back.

Oh, gods, yes.

He flattened his hands against her back and slid them up and down her bare skin. "This?"

She vaguely registered his voice, low ragged against her skin, and realized she must have actually said the words out loud.

"Yes, vhenan," she gasped in return as his bare hands sent tingles and thrills shooting through her entire body. "Oh... yes."

She'd try to remember to be embarrassed later. Right now, his hands left her completely muddled, and she could only think to get as many layers out from between them as possible. Sliding her fingers out of his hair, down his magnificent shoulders and then to his chest, she began working on the buckles of his doublet. He pulled away slightly as he realized her intent, and his hands left her back to deftly released the clasps even as he continued to press kisses to her lips, cheeks, jaw and neck. Finally, he shrugged off the doublet, and another sharp ache pulsed between her legs as she smoothed greedy hands down the hard planes of his chest covered only by the thin fabric of his tunic. Creators, the man was perfect.

His mouth slanted over hers desperately as his hands slid back under her tunic to glide up her back sensually. He breathed broken praises and whispered his need into her mouth, setting her on fire wherever he touched her. She could feel his hand trembling as it slid around to rest on her ribs, and his thumb swept up and down, grazing the bottom edge of her breast band.

Creators, she wanted him so badly. She'd never experienced this kind of urgency before. She knew she should slow down, but every caress, every movement, every gasp of her name on his lips pushed her further over the edge. She couldn't seem to get enough of it - enough of him. She moved to trail kisses of her own across his cheek and jaw as her hands ran over his stomach and around to his back, appreciating the defined mass of muscles under her greedy fingers. He groaned again as his own hands continued a slightly bolder search, running over the curve of her ass, down her outer thigh and back up under her tunic to the bare skin of her ribs. This time, his thumb slid under the bottom edge of her breast band to sweep a callused pad against the sensitive underside of her breast. She gasped out her approval and leaned into the touch, encouraging him onward as she tasted his skin, salty yet sweet, and worked her way to his earlobe. She pulled at it gently with her teeth even as her hands slid under his tunic to touch his heated skin. The hiss of a curse in her ear told her she was on the right track, but his body stilled as he suddenly swept his arms around her and crushed her against him. He pulled in several deep breaths to calm himself before his voice rumbled in her ear, soft but tense. 

"Evana... we should... slow down."

She stiffened slightly in his arms and pushed against his chest to look at him, her lust-addled brain slowly coming back down to earth.

"You don't want...? I thought... That is..."

Her face began to burn hot with embarrassment, and the all-too-familiar feeling of rejection pulsed through her. Not again. Not with him. Please. She looked away and worked to control the tears pricking at her eyes. He wasn't Hanir. There had to be another reason. She shouldn't - couldn't make him feel guilty for the actions of another. Keeping her emotions in check, she quickly fumbled off his lap to sit on the couch next to him and laughed tremulously.

"Oh... I- I seem to have gotten carried away. M-my apologies."

He gently pulled her back to him and cupped her face with his hand, trying catch her gaze. She half-heartedly attempted to pull away, closing her eyes to concentrate on her already tremulous breathing. She would not cry in front of him again. Not about this.

"Maker! Evana, please don't think... it's not because..." He let out a sigh of frustration. "I'm sorry. I'm not very good at this."

With his words to distract her, she could finally open her eyes. She watched him swallow and take a deep breath, his face twisted with worry.

"It's not because I don't want more. I very much want... well... you." His voice fell into a harsh whisper. "Maker... all of you."

Despite her lingering self doubt and embarrassment, she gave him a small smile. She couldn't bring herself to speak, but when he kissed her lightly, she kissed him back. He pulled back, his eyes brimming with a deep emotion that called out to her and made her aching heart sing in response.

"But I want to get this right - get us right - even more." He rested his forehead against hers. "I want this to work... More than... more than I've ever wanted anything. And I think that means... It means I need us to take this slowly."

Evana felt the tears pricking at her eyes again, this time for an entirely different reason, and she fought wildly to hold them back. He was worried about making their relationship work? She pulled back and looked into his eyes.

"Of course, Cullen. You're... you're my best friend, you know. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you're comfortable. I just want you to be happy, vhenan."

His thumb brushed across her bottom lip, and she thought the look on his face might break her heart - all the vulnerability and raw emotion laid bare for her to see.

"I've never been happier. Never in my life," he whispered.

She closed her eyes and leaned into the hand that still cupped her face. "Me neither."

And it was true. In all her life, she'd never felt like she fit in. Now, here among this motley crew of elves and dwarves and humans and qunari, she finally felt like she had a place. Cullen was the final piece of the puzzle that snapped everything together. In a desperate situation, her new friends had rallied around her to create a force to rival even a thousand-year-old darkspawn magister. She'd taken his mages, she'd foiled his plan to kill everyone at Haven, and soon she would stop him from murdering an empress. The idea of doing any of that without Cullen's quiet, solid support frightened the daylights out of her. She opened her eyes and found him studying her. His gaze reflected what she now knew to be desire and appreciation - a look she'd seen in his eyes too many times to count - and it made her curious.

"Today, when you kissed me on the battlements - how long had you wanted to do that?"

Cullen's eyes flicked to the side as he laughed softly. "Longer than I should admit."

"That I'm Dalish - an elf - never bothered you?"

He grunted and furrowed his brows. "I hadn't considered... elves weren't treated differently in the Circles I served. I- I didn't think what it might mean to you. I hope it doesn't... I mean, does it, bother you... that I'm not?"

A few months ago, her answer would have been very different. But now? Knowing the kind of man he was? She didn't even hesitate.

"No. If you care for me, that's all that matters. I wasn't trying to put you on the spot."

His shoulders relaxed a bit. "If I seem unsure, it's because it's been a long time since I wanted anyone in my life. I wasn't expecting to find that here. Or you."

She took a deep breath and leaned in closer to him. "Well, as you've decided to be coy, shall I tell you how long I've wanted to kiss you, then?"

His smile faded and a smoldering look flitted through his eyes. He cleared his throat.

"Perhaps we should rearrange ourselves so we don't... uh... get carried away again."

She pulled back and took a moment to adjust her tunic. Cullen was right, of course. They needed to make sure they built a strong relationship. She wasn't in this for the short term. Even as her stomach twisted a bit at the thought, she knew it to be the truth. She held out the tiniest bit of hope that her clan would make an exception and be accepting, but even if they weren't, he was the best friend she'd ever had. As long as he cared - as long as he still wanted her in his life - she wasn't about to give that up.

Once he'd arranged himself on the couch, he reached for her again, tucking her neatly into his side as he had done earlier that evening. She leaned her head on his chest and felt it rumble as he prompted her.

"You were saying?"

She laughed outright. "Right. Yes... Well, I first thought about what it might be like to kiss you after I returned from my first trip to Val Royeaux. I was angry with you, but that scar of yours is distractingly alluring, you know?"

She lifted her head, reached up to his lip and traced a finger down the length of the scar. He lightly kissed her finger as one side of his mouth quirked upward.

"You were angry with me?"

"Of course. You kept going on about templars, and I only wanted to go get the mages and close the Breach. But then there you were, bringing me dinner and talking with me patiently about your life, and I found I wasn't angry, just insanely attracted to you. I chalked it up to being a bit tipsy from the ale - and to Varric putting ideas in my head."

Cullen's voice was warm and teasing. "Well, I guess I owe Varric a debt of gratitude. Is that why you asked all those questions about my vows?"

She felt her face turn hot at the memory. "Up to a point, I was legitimately curious about the templar life. I wanted to understand what kind of organization could hold such loyalty. But I think your nearness muddled my brain, and that's really my only defense there at the last. I wasn't really aware of what I was asking until it was too late. At the time, though, I still planned to leave after closing the Breach, so I didn't take any of it seriously."

She felt his chest expand as he drew in a breath. "You were planning to leave, then."

"After closing the Breach, yes. But Redcliffe changed all that."

"Redcliffe... and the future you saw there?"

She nodded. "Yes. It's also when I began thinking of the Inquisition as more than just a necessary evil - a means to an end. I - I began to let myself think of you all as real friends. You in particular, of course."

"I'm glad."

She smiled and snuggled more deeply into the crook of his arm. "That wasn't when I first really wanted to kiss you, though. It was in your tent, after I'd returned from the Fallow Mire. You were mad at me and Cassandra for letting Captain Rylen in on the hand-to-hand combat training, and I was mad at you for interrupting. There was a moment, after we had talked things out but before I went to get you tea for the first time. Do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember very vividly," he murmured softly into her hair. "I had my hand on your face, and you... I thought you lowered your head just a little bit. You were looking at me like no one had ever looked at me before. And I remember thinking for the first time how desperately I wanted to kiss you. I thought about it a lot after that."

She felt him swallow, and his breathing became slightly uneven. "I did almost kiss you that night."

Pushing away from his chest, she searched his face. "Truly?"

He nodded a little sheepishly. "And that wasn't even close to the first time I wanted to kiss you."

She fought it, but she couldn't help the grin that spread across her face at his admission. She turned slightly to face him and rested her cheek on his arm to gaze up at him.

"Oh? Do tell me more, Ser Rutherford."

He sighed, but then smiled down at her. "The first time was outside your quarters before we'd even sent you to the Hinterlands... after we'd talked in the tavern. It was the first time you hadn't looked at me as though I might strike you down at any moment."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "But you'd only known me a couple of weeks!"

"Yes, I know," he said, a chagrinned tone coloring his words. "You were thanking me for listening to you talk about your clan, and I could only think about your lips."

He reached up to cup her face and rub his thumb across her bottom lip. "I wrote it off as an ill-advised infatuation, but by the time you came back from the Fallow Mire, I knew it was more than that. I've always been flustered by women - especially beautiful women like you - but I could tell even then that this was... different. I determined to keep my distance." He snorted derisively. "And that worked for two whole days. Then I nearly kissed you in my tent, and I knew there was no use trying to ignore it. I simply resolved to wait until all this was over and see where we stood after that."

She smiled softly at him. "You think I'm beautiful?"

He gave her a disbelieving look and ran his fingertips down the side of her cheek. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She exhaled in surprise. He cared for her, to be sure, but this... "I've gotten a little more used to it, but it's still somewhat strange to hear people say that. In my clan, I was considered 'uniquely' pretty at best. Many of the boys simply called me plain."

He looked at her hesitantly as if he wanted to ask something but then smiled and merely said, "That may be one thing I'll never understand about elven culture, then. There's nothing plain about you. You're perfect."

A wry half smile tugged at the corner of her mouth even as her cheeks flamed. "Flatterer."

He leaned down and kissed her softly and slowly. She could sense the smoldering passion just beneath the surface, but he kept it neatly contained as he gently brushed over her lips, his fingers lightly caressing her cheek. Finally, he raised his head.

"I am only speaking the truth. You can always count on me to be honest with you."

She hummed contentedly. "Yes, I know. It's one of the many things I..." She stopped, and her eyes widened a little bit at her near slip of the tongue. "One of the things I like most about you, ma vhenan," she finished hurriedly.

He leaned down again and kissed her more deeply. This time she felt his veneer of control crack a little bit. He broke the kiss, and the sound of uneven breathing once again filled the room.

"I think... I should go."

She nodded and laughed a little. "Um... perhaps we should avoid being alone together like this? At least for a time."

He laughed with her as he stood and pulled her off the couch and into his arms once more. "You could come see me in my office any time. As you said before... I'm never alone there."

"Yes... I could bring my work there sometimes. We could be in each other's company and productive at the same time... if that wouldn't be too distracting?"

"It will be," he admitted, "but we'll get used to it. And I'd rather have you near me than constantly wondering in the back of my mind where you are. I do enough of that when you're away from Skyhold."

She hummed thoughtfully. "The Commander of the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste... We'll have people talking... If they aren't already talking about our... display on the battlements."

Cullen sighed. "You wouldn't believe how quickly gossip spreads through the barracks."

She was only half joking when she responded, "Does it bother you?"

"I would rather my - our - private affairs remain that way... But, if there were nothing here for people to talk about, I would regret it more."

"Ok then, it's settled. We can work something out when I return. Ma serannas, Cullen."

She didn't think she'd ever tire of feeling his arms around her. The easy strength and feel of his hands on her back made her tingle all over. She knotted her hands around his neck and pulled him down for another - a final, she told herself - kiss. Instead of leaning down to her, however, he tightened his arms and lifted her from the ground. Her feet dangled in the air as the full length of her body melted against his, and the giggle that slipped from her lips died out as she recognized exactly how much of him she could feel. She tried to temper her reaction to feeling the proof of his desire for her, but she couldn't help the tiny gasp as his arousal pressed into her thigh. No, he's nothing like Hanir, she thought as he let her slowly slide to the ground before pulling his mouth from hers, chuckling breathlessly.

"I really need to go," he murmured.

She smiled at him as she picked up and handed him his doublet from the couch. As he put it on, she gathered up his vambraces and gloves. He lifted his cuirass and snapped it into place.

"It feels a little silly to put all my armor back on just to walk across Skyhold to take it back off again."

She didn't respond but did raise an eyebrow. He caught her gaze, and she saw the moment he also caught the direction of her thoughts. He snickered and tinged a little pink as he strapped on the vambraces and reattached his pauldrons and mantle. They walked hand-in-hand down the steps to her door.

"Goodnight, Cullen."

She winked at him, and he just shook his head and kissed her long and slow. By the time he pulled away, her knees were shaking, and she wondered briefly if she'd have to crawl back up the steps. Cullen merely bowed and kissed the back of her hand lightly.

"Goodnight, my lady."

"Evana," she whispered.

He'd already walked through the the door but paused before he closed it to look her up and down. One side of his mouth quirked upward, and his low tone sent shivers down her spine.

"Evana."