Work Text:
It’s late. He’s been devising training regimes for his men for hours now, but it is time for him to sleep, at least for a little while. He can’t afford to have his senses dulled from fatigue with so much at stake. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he extinguishes the single candle and exits his tent, intent on heading back inside the gates of Haven.
What he sees on the ridge nearly spooks him.
Lady Trevalyan looks like a phantom as she stands there alone in the moonlight, thick white flakes drifting down and clinging to her wool cloak. Why is she out here in this cold? He wants to ask, but finds it hard to break the spell she casts without even lifting her staff. Something about the sight of her still, slender form triggers bittersweet feelings that he can’t quite pinpoint. Like some tragically beautiful maiden, eyes sad but smiling all the same.
She notices him, though, and the spell is broken. “C-Commander?” To his dismay, she pulls her cloak tighter around herself, as if feeling the need to protect herself more from him than from the snow. It’s because of what he was. He knows.
“Lady Trevalyan,” he begins, but stops to clear his throat. “What are you doing out here in this weather? You should be inside, staying warm.”
“I’m…I’m sorry.” Now she hangs her head, wisps of chestnut hair bedazzled by a hundred tiny snowflakes falling forward.
Evelyn Trevalyan has no conceivable reason to apologize. She’s a credit to her noble lineage, calm and well-read, polite and agreeable. Cullen is certain there is no possible way she could have ever offended anyone. Except…she’s a mage. It’s no fault of her own, he understands that now better than he ever has, but despite being a devout Andrastian and an obedient Circle mage, the magic that sings through her body is reason enough for her to apologize to the world, and she does.
It’s more than that, though. She seems to have perceived his words as an admonishment for her behavior. She only sees the Templar and not the man. Can he resent that when long ago, he only saw the mage and not the woman? “You have every right to enjoy the evening, Herald. I only worry for your well-being.”
“They always did. Back at the Circle, that is.” Her expression leans more towards the sad now as she thinks back.
“What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t just a Circle mage, bound to the tower. I was still a Trevalyan. If anything happened to me, if I were to get terribly sick or be in an accident… They kept such a careful eye on me because they were afraid of what the Trevalyans would do if harm came to their daughter, mage or not.”
Cullen wishes he could step closer, close the distance between them, but part of him feels that if he did, she would dissipate like a mirage in the snow. Who knew, perhaps she had the magic to accomplish that if she wished. He imagines a shy girl like her would appreciate an ability like that. “A gilded cage on more than one level.” He knew the story all too well, had seen it too many times before. Funny how now it meant more.
“I was just thinking…” She turns her eyes to the sky, all inky black and flecks of white. “I haven’t been out in the snow since I was a little girl, before they came and took me away.”
“Never at the tower?” His voice is soft, yet laced with confusion.
“The first snow would come, and all the other apprentices would laugh and smile and rush to the balconies so they could catch the flakes on their tongues. It was an excuse to celebrate something in our dreary lives, even if it was something small. But I…” She turns her gaze down to the blanket of snow on the ground. “I couldn’t join them. Because Lady Trevalyan might catch a cold. Stay inside where it is warm…”
Oh. How could he have known his well-intentioned words were the last thing she’d wanted to hear? “I am the one who is sorry then, for saying what I said about being inside,” he attempts. “I want you to enjoy this.” This freedom.
“It’s fine, Commander. It was a logical response to the situation. I was just enjoying being outside in the middle of it for once, rather than just watching it from behind the window pane. For nineteen years it’s all I’ve been allowed.”
“Is it all you hoped it would be?” Cullen has no idea why he’d said such a naively romantic thing, but there was no taking it back.
“It’s beautiful.” Finally a small smile turns up the corners of her lips. “Though I think it is even better at night, like this. It’s peaceful and silent.”
“Then I shouldn’t intrude. I’ve ruined your peace.”
“No, don’t worry about it, Commander…”
“Cullen.”
“…Cullen…” She tries out the name, awkward, no doubt unused to addressing men like him by a first name. “Honest, it’s probably for the better. I could lose myself out here like this until the snow buried me. And it really is cold. As much as I love it, my face is feeling a bit numb after so long.”
“You should join me at the tavern. They’ll have something warm to drink. I mean, I’m not saying that because you are a Trevalyan…”
“Are you saying it because I’m the Herald?” Her shoulders sink under the burden of yet another title.
“No, I’m saying it because you are Evelyn, and I don’t want you to lose your nose to frostbite.” What did that even mean? It was just the first thing that came to mind!
To his relief, she breaks into an even wider smile than before. At last, the sun conquers the clouds. “All right, Comma- I mean, Cullen. I imagine the cider is even sweeter after embracing the cold.”
He’d never thought about it that way, but he is certain that he will for the rest of his life.