Chapter Text
“Fifteen.” he counted in his mind, the thud made by his sword one of the only few sounds in Skyhold' courtyard. It was too early even to find Ser Barris and his men in the training ring after the morning service in the Chapel, but Cullen couldn't lay in his bed a minute more.
Despite the crisp air, the Commander was sweating and his throat was dry, but he didn't stop.
He wanted to be exhausted.
He wanted to stop to see fragments of her, defenceless and in pain, in his mind.
He wanted to forget the nightmare.
She was screaming.
And was covered in blood, calling for an help which wouldn't come, a dark, giant shadow behind her. And he wasn’t fast enough.
“Maker's breath!” he panted, weeping the sweat from his brow, but not stopping. He had dreamt about Demetra, before. Illecit, sensual dreams which had forced him on his knees, asking the Maker forgiveness for his weakness.
The one during the last night had him on his knees, thanking the Maker for letting her coming back to him - to them all.
The Inquisitor didn’t return to him, the Commander scolded himself, twirling his sword.
She wasn't interested in him as nothing more than a colleague, a friend at best, he reminded to himself, balacing better the shield.
And he had failed her.
Cullen knew the blush on his cheeks wasn't for the exertion to hit the wooden training dummy. He was ashamed of himself. She was hurt and tired and right, about what had happened. It had been an accident, the Inquisitor wasn't the type of warrior who would put her companions in danger just for the glory.
He couldn't have been in love with her, if she was.
The thought hit him harder than the recoil of his blade on the wood, and the Commander stopped abruptly, the weapon stucked in the dummy's arm.
Maker, he was in love with her.
Cullen had realized that for quite a while, but every time the consideration slipped treacherously in his mind, it left him dumbstruck.
Porbably he had fallen in love with her since their time in Haven, when this unknow noblewoman had put aside her life to live between dangers and battles. But it had been just a confused mass of attraction, affection and doubts in the middle of too busy days, something too scary for him to investigate. When they hed left her behind, he realized ... Maker, he had thought he was going to roar and cry, when the avalanche had covered the village.
In that moment, he had known for sure.
The Commander also knew he shouldn't have let this happen, but he was just a man, and all his training, all his experience, all his bitterness, weren’t useless against her warm laugh, her courage, her bizarre sense of humor, that enchanting smiling lips and that adorable freckles. When he had realized what was happening, it was too late to stop it.
Demetra had been out of his reach well before to be the Inquisitor, he frowned, taking another blade, she had been too much since forever, but despite his best efforts, he couldn’t avoid to stay around her, to speak and laugh and play chess in a quiet corner in the garden, just he and her.
The Commander was still surprised she was willing to offer him respect and friendship, after all he told her about his past, and he treasured that. But it was undeniable he wanted more.
Sweet Maker, the way she had looked at him in the War Room, the day before.
He was surprised she didn’t spit straight in his face. A couple of hours later, the Commander’s anger was just a confuse tangle of shame and regret, and he had waited for her to appear in the Main Hall, ready to beg for her pardon.
But she didn’t come, and when Cullen had realized she wouldn’t come at all, he had asked to a servant to bring some food to the Inquisitor.
Now, he was in the courtyard, waiting fot his occasion to ask her a minute and apologize properly. Hoping that the Inquisitor wasn’t so angry to avoid him or hit him, he grimaced rubbing his face.
Demetra groaned painfully, letting herself fall on the couch. The mighty Inquisitor was destroyed, she thought,rubbing her shoulder. When she had told Josephine to make this party huge, she hadn’t realize the incredible amount of work this would have meant. All had started the day after her return, when the assistant of the lady Ambassador had awoken her, a tray with some breakfast in her hands.
It had been three days since the disastrous meeting in the War Room, and she did nothing but fill out lists: about guests, food, flowers, musicians. Lists which had kept her buried in her own bedroom for one day an half. After that, the tireless Josephine had dragged Demetra here and there, to inspect the decorations in the Main Hall - useless, everyone would be busy admiring the dead giant lizard - to taste the food the cooks were cooking - well, that had been fun - to welcome every guest arrived in Skyhold to attend the party - so, so many, too much.
Demetra looked at her sword guiltily.
She hadn’t had moment to train, nor to meet her friends or to do anything wasn’t related with the celebration. Even if the Ambassador had organized her agenda to allow the Inquisitor to fullfill her formal duties between reports to examine and people to listen, every other task had been given to Leliana, Cullen and Cassandra.
"We don’t have enough time.” the Ambassador had apologized “The party is the more urgent thing now, Inquisitor. You can trust the others to deal with the rest for a couple of days.”.
Sighing loudly again, Demetra kicked off her shoes, wondering if she had enough time for a quick nap, since Josephine would return soon with something else, not letting her enough time to exercise in the training ring.
Or to talk with Cullen, at that time surely busy with some meeting in his tower, probably checking with Fiona and ser Barris how the things between Mages and Templars in Skyhold were going.
Laying down on the sofa, Demetra yawned soundly, since the pain on her back hadn’t let her sleep well for a couple of nights, before Dorian’s salve had healed completely her skin.
She wanted to speak with her Commander, the thought lazily swriled in her mind, her eyes heavy. Her anger was gone, but not her desire of a confrontation. She wanted to know if he truly believed her bad leader, at least in that occasion. That possibility stung the edge of her mind, but she was too tired to not close her eyes.
Demetra wasn’t sure if the door of her quarters was being opening for real, but she didn’t care. If was Josie, she would wake her up. If it was someone else, sorry but the Inquisitor needed a minute.
Oh, she thought a moment before slipping into the Fade, heavy steps, someone with an armor, maybe?
Josephine awoke her thirty minute later. The seamstress and her team were arrived with her new dress.
“And I think this is all.” Cullen concluded, leaning with his hands on the sturdy desk. Maker, that had been a long day. Blackwall nodded, taking back a stack of papers “I think so. I’m happy to help you and lady Cassandra to train the new recruits.”
“As we are, Warden Blackwall.”
“It’s just Blackwall, Cullen. Or do I have to start to call you Commander again?”. The two men shared a smirk, before Blackwall added “Ah, I saw the Inquisitor, earlier. She was searching for you, but apparently you were lost.”.
“What?! When... Maker’s breath, this must be a joke!” he said, louder than he intended. He had tried to find Demetra in the last days, but Josephine and her team had practically kidnapped the Inquisitor, and Leliana had submerged him with extra work. He had tried to meet her anyway, just to miss Demetra by a minute or two. Every single time.
“Did... did she tell you why she was searching for me?” he questioned, rubbing his neck.
“No, she just seemed as exasperated as you are.”
“I’m not...” Cullen started, before a knowing look on Blacwall’s face stopped him “I’m... I just have a very urgent matter to discuss with her.”
“You tell me!” the Warden grunted “Luckily the party is tonight, and this means tomorrow things will return to normal. At least, lady Trevelyan is going to have a moment to celebrate and relax a little.”.
Cullen nodded, but he wasn’t very much comforted. He didn’t want that a moment of happiness, her moment to celebrate a success, was ruined by him.
Now that the fear was a little faded away, the Commander could allow the pride to fill his veins and admit the Inquisitor and her team did a great feat, something which deserved to be celebrated. Sure, he didn’t agree about some aspects, but Cullen was tortured by the thought that Demetra could think he wasn’t proud of her. She didn’t know - she couldn’t - that he was just scared to lose her.
“Did you see the dragon in the Main Hall, anyway?”. Cullen blinked and Blackwall snorted “Vivienne and the Mages found I don’t know what enchantment to let the dragon floating slightly in the air, near the Main Hall’s ceiling. It’s quite impressive!”
“Sure it is.” Cullen murmured, absent - mindedly. It was unlike he could speak with her during the event, but maybe... with a little - a lot - of luck and a bit of strategy...
Strategy which he forgot when she appeared in the Main Hall that evening, announced by the lady Ambassador herself. The eyes of everyone, which were before enchanted by the giant dragon twirling lazily upon their heads, were now for the majestic woman who was walking among them. A thunderous applause saluted the end of her short speech, speech of which he actually didn’t hear a word.
Cullen wasn’t sure he could breathe.
Demetra was more than beautiful, wearing a long, deep blue dress, a cascade of velvet and silk who caressed gently and a bit mischievously her body, leaving her pale arms visible throught the thin lace sleeves.
Little, silvery pearls formed a sort of hairband on her head and, for once, her dark red hair was fluctuating free along all her back. She was dressed to remind the moon in the night sky, he realized openly staring at her.
And he also realized how low was her neckline, accentuated, by some intricated silver embroideries . Frowning the Commander saw that others had noticed the same.
“Do you like our Inquisitor, Commander?”
He bowed his head slightly “Lady Trevelyan is always perfect, Madame Vivienne.”.
The enchantress smiled, holding gracefully her champagne flute “Indeed, my dear. From the Inquisitor, we can’t expect nothing less.”. She looked at him, approving “I’m happy you followed the suggestion of our Josephine, about your clothes, Commander. You surely didn’t want to indimidate our guests wearing your full armor, did you?”.
Cullen wasn’t sure to agree about this. His attire was quite simple, to be honest, leather boots and trousers, a white shirt and a long, velvety coat, a blue so dark it was almost black. The problem was that Josephine had allowed him to bring just the parts of his armor which covered his legs and arms, nothing more.
Maker knew he was feeling almost naked and not very comfortable. At least, he had his sword.
After some polite formalities, Vivienne insisted to lead him through group after group of unknown faces, without giving him a chance to refuse. She glared at him firmly “It’s not good that people see the Commander of the Inquisition in his little corner all the night. Now, back straight and follow me. Lord Hestrex” she whispered, looking at a tall man who cannot stop to admire the dragon “is a war veteran who just wants a good cause in which invest his quite impressive endowment. You know this is one of the main reasons behind this event.”.
When finally he managed to escape - or rather Vivienne allowed him to go- he found a quiet corner, near Varric’s usual place.
The party was going well, he admitted taking a sip of his wine,
Everybody around him was chatting, drinking, jostling to have a moment with the Inquisitor. Cullen sighed, rubbing his neck
Everybody, except for a small group of people. Cullen was ignoring them, and they didn’t realize he was there. He was glad to be let alone and his eyes found quickly the most beautiful woman in that room.
Demetra was speaking kindly with a couple of women, pointing at the dragon, while Bull, near her, smirked. Cullen smiled softly. She was so excited, probably speaking about Dracology, that her composure was a little faded, letting her passionate nature emerge. He loved that view.
“Did you see the Inquisitor?”
Cullen turned slowly his head. The group near him was looking at Demetra too, but their faces didn’t show any sympathy.
“How could I not have seen her? She’s quite impossible to miss.” a man with a feathered hat replied, mimicking with his hands a prominent abdomen.
Cullen froze, while a bunch of titters fulled the air between them.
”Oh, dear, don’t be rude.” scoffed a woman with a giant neckalce of pearls “I was speaking about her dress. How many coins do you think the Inquisition spent to change a rough Free Marchers in a proper noblewoman?”
”They’re going to sell the dragon, so money are not a problem!”
Another man snickered, shaking his head “Isn’t impressive she could ride fast enough to reach that beast... without killing her poor horse?”. A shared laugh and a woman replied “I think it’s even more impressive she still has that... important physique after months spent all around Thedas.”
“She will bring her personal cook with her!”
“Poor thing, she wouldn’t be so bad if she was a little... less.”
“Just a little? You’re too kind, my lady.”
Cullen acted before realizing, emerging from his hidden corner. Seeing him, the group went silent for a moment.
Cullen walked slowly, towering above them, looking at them coldly, and when one of them dared to smile at him “Commander, here you are! It’s a pleasure meeting the...”
“Out.” Cullen hissed. Their faces weren’t smiling anymore “Pardon, Commander?”
“Get out of Skyhold. Now. Your disrespect is an outrage to all the Inquisition. You’re not welcome guests, here.”. The man with the feathered hat clenched his jaw “Do you know who am I?”
“Someone who clealry never did something better than drinking and idling. Now, would you prefer to go without clamour or would you like I tell to our Spymaster and Madamme de Fer what I heard you to say about the woman who’s fighting for Thedas and who killed a legendary beast?”
“Madame Vivienne de Fer?” a woman whined. Cullen nodded coldly “Or I could just speak with the Inquisitor herself.”. They ran away, without a second glance.
“What’s happened?”.
Behind him, Josephine’s voice was calm, but he could sense her annoyance. “They insulted the Inquisitor.”
“And you sent them away.” she completed. Cullen nodded, and before she could tell anything else, he excused himself and left the Main Hall.
The crisp air in the garden was a welcomechange, after the crowded room.
Breathing heavily, he threw his glass away careless, leaning heavily on the balustrade, thanking that the garden was empty and quiet.
He needed a moment.
The words of that people were echoing in is mind.
After all she has done, after all she risked for them day fater day, after had eaten at her table and taken adavantage of her hospitality, they...
“Commander?”.
He closed his eyes.
“Cullen, are you alright?”
Cullen turned slowly, looking at her.
Something in his chest spasmed. She was lovely and he almost couldn’t bear to see the concern on her face.
He wanted nothing more that to fall on his kness and confess his feelings, begging her to give him the chance to be seen as more than a friend.He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until they both would be breathless, until he would know finally what taste had her lips, how truly soft was her body against him.
He wanted, but he couldn’t.
For a million of reasons, and the first one was that she deserved better than his problems in her life, better than his bitterness, better than him.
"I’m happy I could find you.” she interrupted gently his thoughts, coming closer “I think we need to talk.”
“Yes, I... I tried to find you, but I couldn’t...”.
A moment of silence fell between them and Cullen cleared his throat “Inquisitor...Demetra.”.
The Inquisitor was surprised he was using her name. She had always encouraged him to do it, but Cullen was probably the most formal and the politest person in all Thedas. She could count the times he pronounced her name, and every time it felt... right.
The Commander looked straight in her eyes “I’m sorry.”. She blinked and he continued, coming a little closer “I know you didn’t engage that dragon on purpose. And I’m sorry for both what I said and how I acted. I was wrong.”
Demetra bit her lower lip, tasting the lipstick on her tongue “I think I should apologize with you too. I didn’t want to shout at you, Cullen. I hated fighting with you. But...”.
She stopped, nervous.
Cullen leaned a bit toward her, and she suddenly felt his scent: mint soap, leather, the thing he used to tame his air, and something else. Something deep and male and his, a scent which made her skin tingle.
”But?” he prompted, his voice low and gentle. She couldn’t scrape together enough courage to look at his eyes - blessed Andraste, he was so tall and so, so close- but, at least, her voice was firm “I was wondering... I still am, actually... if you believed I had been a bad leader on the battlefield. If you regretted I was the Inquisitor.”
“Maker’s breath, no! Not even for a moment!” Cullen declared fiercely, grabbing her hands with his “I know you were forced to take a quick decision. I let my anguish spoke for me, instead to use my brain.”
“Anguish?” she repeated quietly, leaning a little against him without realizing it. His cheekes reddened, but he didn’t look away “I... yes. Yes, I was worried. The report said you were hurt and I had thought...”.
He stopped abruptly “But this doesn’t justify my actions. I saw what type of leader you are, I knew how clever and capable you are, and I shouldn’t have... Maker, I have no excuses for what I said, and I don’t expect your forgiveness, but...”
“But you have it.” Demetra smiled, and the way Cullen looked at her made her blush. His gaze was intense, totally focused, her hands still between his, near his chest. She didn’t think they had been so close before, but she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t think clearly at the moment, she couldn’t look away from him and avoid to wish impossible things. Her Commander was strong and strapping, but his face told her about sleepless nights, daily struggles and determination. Demetra wanted to caress the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and kissing away the frown on his forehead. She wanted to hug him gently and kiss him passionately, reassuring him he wasn’t alone, and he was a good man, and she was so proud of him.
The silence was too much, his eyes on her skin were too much, and she searched frantically for something to say “You said you worried for me.”
“I did.” he confirmed, inhaling deeply “I... always worry for you, dragons or not.”. The words seemed to fail him, so Demetra spoke again, a soft murmur in the sleepy garden “Thank you. Knowing that you care... it’s important.”.
“Is it?” he seemed truly surprised and she almost cried. How could have he been surprised? How could he think she didn’t care?
The Inquisitor nodded, determined “Yes, it is.”. Cullen wet his lower lip and when he spoke, his voice was croaky “Demetra, I...”.
The woman waited, not knowing if she should have been terrified or thrilled. But the moment passed and Cullen shook his head, releasing her hands, and taking a step back “I... I think we should return, now.”.
She looked at him, fighting to keep a calm face “Sure, you’re right. I’m happy we have clarified everything, Cullen.”
“So am I, my lady.” he bowed.
Demetra observed him, her disappointment just a little more than shadow.
She loved him, that was clear in her mind since a long time, since when he smiled at her the first time in Haven’s chantry, even before that time, and reciprocal knowledge, and noble actions reinforced that feeling.
She loved him and it was scary and big and new, but she was tired to wait and hope and being uncertain. She knew most probably he wouldn’t be interested to have more than a friendship.
Tonight, the moment to finally confess everything was gone.
But tomorrow, tomorrow she would go in his office, asking to talk with him.
In private.
It would be a leap of faith, but she was the Herald of Andraste, after all.
She smiled, accepting his arm “Let’s go then, Commander.”
“Yes, Inquisitor.”.