Chapter Text
Cullen knows he has a curse. It’s not like it’s tried to hide itself; in point of fact, it’s always marked the most important parts of his life.
His Curse, though no one believes him, is to fall for a redhead nicknamed Lizzy in the most embarrassing, mind numbing way possible, and for her to be whisked off her feet by a woman who actually showed any interest in her, leaving him crushed through literally no one's fault but his own.
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When he was a child, Templar Lizbet was his idol. He chased her around Honnleath, bombarding her with questions she answered with seemingly infinite patience. By 8, he had asked all the questions he could think of, and came away satisfied, returning home that night to announce to the dinner table that he was going to be a Templar. His siblings giggled while his parents smiled patiently and reassured him he would in the way they said he might get candy when they got home when he definitely wasn’t.
Cullen was undaunted, however, because there were two things he knew about himself with absolute certainty;
First, that he was going to be a Templar when he grew up, and that he was going to do important things that made everyone happier.
And second, that he was going to marry Templar Lizbet, or at least someone who was as good at fighting as her.
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Mia was the first to realize that this wasn’t like the time Cullen swore up, down and sideways he was going to slay a dragon when he grew up, or when he was absolutely adamant that he was going to live in a castle. She was also the first to support him, getting Branson and Rosalie to help him train in little ways, like defending from multiple attackers at the same time (even if the worst their siblings could do was tickle him) and convincing their parents that him joining the Templars was a good idea, and the worst that would happen is that he’d be well trained and able to help defend the farm from wolves or bandits.
Templar Lizbet was the last to warm to the idea, but after weeks of his trying (and, though he wasn’t aware of it, all three of his siblings coming to bring the Templar baked goods every morning, leaving Lizbet to attempt to deal with three sets of Rutherford puppy eyes that could rival a basket of Mabari and a basket of pastries before her coffee) she finally agreed, teaching him the basics of using a sword and shield.
When he was 13, Knight Commander Michelle came through Honnleath doing inspections, and Cullen wants to impress her so badly. He comes to the Chantry everyday after his chores are done (and, he suspects, his siblings lighten his load a little) and trains.
He’s getting ready to leave from training, and goes to tell Templar Lizbet he’s going home when he sees her and Knight-Commander Michelle kiss in the alcove. He quickly turns on his heel and takes the long way home, taking time to collect himself and be happy that Templar Lizbet is happy before going home to his siblings interrogating him about any and all interactions he’d had with any of the Templars that day, searching for clues they were going to take him on.
~
The next day, Knight Commander Michelle is waiting with Templar Lizbet where they usually train.
“You’re very dedicated to becoming a templar, I hear. It’s quite impressive.” Any lingering remorse is engulfed in an overwhelming wave of hope, and Cullen snaps to attention.
“Yes, ser.”
“You haven’t had the normal preparations, you know.”
“Yes, ser.”
“And you’re older than most recruits.”
“Yes, ser, but at the very least I want to try; I want to help people, ser, and being a Templar is the best way to do that.” The Knight-Commander raises her eyebrows and nods appreciatively, before turning back to Templar Lizbet, who looks both proud and smug as she meets her superior’s gaze.
“You were right about him.”
“I know I was, ser. What d’you think?”
“What do I think?” The Knight Commander looked back at Cullen. “Cullen Rutherford, would you like to join the Templars?”