Chapter Text
Cullen does not see Dorian for three weeks after that. He isn't sure he could call it avoidance either, not with Lavellan spiriting him away on another mission he knows requires their attention. He saw a glimpse of Dorian across the courtyard, dark eyes meeting his for only a moment before he tugged his collar up and rode out. Cullen knows this, he doesn't need it spelling out but...
He'd still have expected Dorian to simply say how he felt. But then emotions are sticky and messy and maybe he's more comfortabl with pretending this all just never happened. They're awkward around each other for a while and then they get over it. Well, Cullen gets over it.
It doesn't help that the entire keep was aware of their courting and now is more than aware that the budding lovebirds are avoiding each other- rather Dorian hurries away from Cullen like he has the plague- and with Dorian gone, Cullen is getting all sorts of sympathetic friends popping by. He hates it.
The man Cullen curled up under his desk with was a wreck; crying and fragile in a way Dorian just isn't. There's been enough pieces of information gleaned over their friendship to make sense of Dorian's drunk rambling as well. Enough to know that Dorian had met with his father, with whom he has a very strained relationship, and it had not gone well. The anger Dorian had lashed out with first had been understandable when he worked that out. It still stung and he still wanted to talk but Dorian very obviously didn't so Cullen let it slide. He didnt want to push and instead was watching as Dorian walked away entirely, in every sense.
Cullen had almost called out to Dorian, wanting to say goodbye and at least exchange words, but a soft voice had spoken up instead. "Wants so desperately to go to him, wants to say sorry, miss his laughter, miss his warmth- always so warm. Needs to know, I have to tell him-"
Dorian had started as if electrocuted and spluttered, "That's quite enough of that, Cole! What have I told you about that?!"
Cullen is flushed scarlet as Dorian hurried away, following the Inquisitor's retreating back, and the idea that Cole might have been sharing Dorian's thoughts only occurs to him much later. He dismisses it as wishful thinking, knows those thoughts were in his mind and accepts that Dorian being privy to them only drove him away faster. As if he needed the encouragement.
Three weeks pass Cullen at a crawling pace, filled with reports and training and avoiding nosey, well-meaning friends. He tells himself he's nursing a wounded ego and nothing more, that's why he doesn't want comfort. If he's honest, however, Dorian's absence just highlights further how much of his relaxation time was spent with Dorian.
Cassandra is a good sparring partner but she hasn't the patience for chess, and Cullen had few friends that he chose to spend time with like that. Sera was out instantly, she'd raise his stress level if anything, Solas was far too stiff and Cullen was well aware that the assessment coming from him carried irony. He wished Dorian had been there to laugh about it. Iron Bull was good for an alternativr sparring partner and drinking, neither Cullen wanted to do to relax. Vivienne was someone Cullen avoided as much as possible, Leliana and Josephine as busy as he was and they saw far too much of each other as it was. Varric liked to tease him and was a good listener but Cullen didn't want to spill his troubles right now. Lavellan was out with Dorian and she'd taken Cole and Blackwall with them.
No. Cullen wanted companionship. The likemind he saw in Dorian from such a different perspective. Loud, where Cullen was quiet, witty where he stammered and both as sharp as each other.
Cullen misses him. By the end of the third week, he can admit that.
Even when Dorian returned though, Cullen knew things would still be awkward and Dorian would be avoiding him still. Cullen would miss him, only now from across rooms.
He is a mooning maiden and he knows it.
Cullen is hard at work when he hears the commotion from the courtyard signalling the Inquisitor's return. His stomach clenches nervously and he's halfway to the door when he remembers how Dorian had been staying away from him. He hunches his shoulders and trudges back to his chair, willing this stupid heartache to leave him.
His face is still buried in his hands when the music starts.
It's close. Very close. Right outside the left side door sort of close. Cullen's eyes narrow as he realises he knows this tune. It's a Fereldan love song. Cullen learned it from his mother when he was very young, she used to hum it when he couldn't sleep. He learned every word and committed them to memory, kept them close to his heart when he was far from home and needed comfort.
There was someone stood outside one of his doors playing his mother's song. On a lute, if he's not mistaken.
Curiosity niggles at Cullen but he is slow to approach the door. He listens to the song and steps towards the door as one might approach a sleeping bear. He takes the handle and opens the door.
Dorian is standing outside. Holding a lute.
Playing said lute. Playing it well, Cullen notes absently.
Dorian's eyes widen at seeing him but Cullen watches his jaw clench in determination and the song does not falter. Cullen watches him curiously, remembering all the times he's hummed this under his breath to himself, wondering how Dorian learned this song- this has Leliana's skilled musical talents all over it but the idea of Dorian humming the tune to her so she can teach it to him is... touching. Cullen hadn't even known Dorian had paid attention to his humming but he had to have. Cullen only hums or sings this song when he's alone or... when he's with Dorian and they're having a comfortable silence.
They maintain eye contact for a while and Cullen can see, perhaps for the first time, Dorian start to lose his nerve.
It's slow. First he strums the wrong note and then his hand shakes, strumming three wrong notes and his gaze drops sharply. Dorian doesn't blush, Cullen doesnt think the man capable of shame, but he looks as nervous as Cullen has ever seen and Dorian gives up on the lute entirely. He clutches it between them much like he had the blankets so many weeks ago, as though he needs the illusion of a barrier between them as he works to lower other ones.
"I, uh... um. Leliana. She... she helped me learn it." Dorian says to the stone by their feet. "I... I practiced while we were away. It's not perfect, I know, but I'm a little rusty. I haven't had much cause to practice since leaving Tevinter." The silence drags and Dorian flinches before glancing up and he pauses. Cullen is smiling. "Oh." He says, like its the last thing he expected.
"I haven't heard anyone play that song for many years." Cullen is still smiling. "And you're serenading me with it."
Dorian twists his hands around the neck of the lute before forcibly stilling his fidgeting. "Yes, well... I rather screwed up, didn't I?"
"Not irreparably." Cullen ducks his head with a shake and gestures for Dorian to come in. "Welcome back. Would you like a drink?"
Dorian's shoulders sag in relief and he steps into Cullen's office. "Its good to be home." That he means it, that this is home, only scares him a little. The fear has turned to excitement and Dorian will play all the sappy Fereldan love ballads Cullen likes if he can actually have this.