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Hawke and the Inquisitor stood on the battlements overlooking Skyhold. He didn’t really have anything else to tell Trevelyan about Corypheus, and for once, didn’t feel like just spouting off random conversation. He shook his head ruefully. Hawke, actually at a loss for words? Varric would be astonished.
“So I read your book,” Trevelyan said.
Hawke looked at her in confusion. “My book?”
“Varric’s book - your story.”
“Ah.” He looked up to the sky. “It did a lot of good for mages for it to be told, but Andraste’s ass, I still wish he’d never written it.” He smiled at her brightly. “Which part of the last ten years of my life do you want to dissect?”
Trevelyan blushed slightly. “No, it’s not - it’s not like that. I wanted to ask you about the Knight Captain, actually. I read the story, and it mentions him, but it sounds like he was a lot more involved than the story says. Varric just laughs me off and says that’s dramatic license, but Cullen just gets so stony when -”
Hawke lurched forward and cut her off. “Cullen is here ?”
“He’s the commander of the Inquisition forces, I should bloody hope so!” Trevelyan snapped, reacting to his belligerent tone.
Hawke slapped a hand against his forehead. “Commander Rutherford - hell, I’d forgotten his family name. You’d think Varric might’ve mentioned that.”
Trevelyan’s annoyance evaporated. “I can’t tell if you’re relieved or furious.”
“I -” Hawke stopped. Speechless again? What is with him today? “I can’t either, Inquisitor. I haven’t thought about the last time I saw him or my brother in a long time.”
Trevelyan spoke slowly, almost reluctantly. “Do you want me - should I tell him to come up here?”
“No, I’m sure the rumors have already flown that the Champion of Kirkwall is here.” Hawke spoke the title bitterly. “He’s probably avoiding thinking about it as much as I am.”
“Thinking about what?” Trevelyan asked, then immediately put a hand over her mouth, as if she was surprised the question had come from her.
Hawke looked at her flatly. “Dramatic license.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked - I’m learning all about being more story than person lately and shouldn’t be treating you like they treat me.” She cocked her head to the side. “We’re on the same side, you know?”
Hawke shrugged. “If you say so.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to brood, then.” Trevelyan patted the man on the arm with the hand that glowed. It left a faint tingling on his skin.
Brooding - hah! Fenris could show her some real brooding. Hawke’s thoughts skidded to a halt. No, he wouldn’t think about Fenris. If he did, he might lose his courage and just go home right now, and damn the Grey Wardens and the Inquisition. Worse yet, he might ask Leliana to send a bird and tell Fenris to come to Skyhold. He longed to have Fenris with him, but between that Tevinter mage and Cullen, it was best that he stayed away.
Crap, he was thinking about Fenris, wasn’t he. Hawke shook his head to try to dislodge thoughts of the elf from his mind. It didn’t work. Never did, really. How could he be expected to ever stop thinking about those emerald green eyes and the beautiful lines and curves of his - He slapped himself. Definitely not the time to be contemplating any of that.
He needed a drink. But not where all of Skyhold could gawk at him. Maybe Varric had a place they could go sit quietly. Maybe Cullen still kept brandy in his desk? No. That was a bad idea. Well, not a good idea at least. But the walk from here to the Commander’s tower looked decidedly less populated than having to cross the entire courtyard then go into the main audience chamber where Varric usually was working on his folios.
Hawke was good at stealth. It was part of how they stayed ahead of the Templars so easily in Lothering. That and bribery, either in the form of actual money or some healing on the sly. Eh, screw it. The Templars had been dogging him for months after Meredith’s death, and he wasn’t even a mage. A little payback in the form of some cheeky thievery might make him feel better. The shadows were starting to stretch out as the sun began to slip behind the mountains, so sneaking across the outer walls was going to be easy. Getting inside might not be, but that was a problem for future Hawke.
He crept across Skyhold, amused that none of the guards noticed him and thinking back to the time he had to sneak through an entire Orlesian castle to steal a jewel that didn’t exist. Maybe that big Qunari guy knows Tallis and could pass a message on? Eventually he made it to Cullen’s door. One of them, at least. The tower was built with three of them, with only arrow slits around this level. The door was bolted, not locked, and there was no way Hawke was going to be able to get in and out subtly if he messed with that. He considered his options. Bolted likely meant Cullen was inside. Hawke still wasn’t sure if he could deal with confronting him, but he also didn’t want to be a coward, even if no one else knew he’d backed down from something. Hawke looked up and saw there was a hole in the roof. He snorted. How ridiculously martyr complex of Cullen to work exposed to the elements like that. Between the thick rope he kept in his pack and the convenient footholds provided by the arrow slits, it was little trouble for the rogue to scale the tower. He made it to the roof and looked in and had to stifle a laugh. An entire keep available to him and this damn templar had to just prove how tough he was by sleeping indoors while still getting rained on.
Hawke lowered himself through the hole carefully and dropped the last few feet with a quiet thud. He froze and listened for anyone to react.
Nothing.
Hawke crept to the edge of the second floor while wondering how the hell anyone could’ve gotten a bed up such a small rickety ladder anyway. Must’ve used magic. Bet Cullen had loved that lingering raw fade smell. He peeked down. Sure enough, Commander Cullen was down there, wearing the most ridiculous fur mantle over his armor, stretched out in a chair, and snoring.
Hawke could just nick the brandy, unlock all the doors and walk out, then leave Cullen confused and potentially embarrassed if anyone found him sacked out so ignobly. Or he could nick the brandy and head out the way he came, though carrying a glass container down a forty foot vertical climb didn’t seem too safe for the brandy.
He was getting ahead of himself. There might not even be anything worth drinking in his desk. Or maybe he’s got a metal flask that Hawke could easily stuff in a pocket. Time to check. Future Hawke would have to figure out what to do once the booze was secure. He scooted away from the edge and tested the ladder carefully. It creaked, but not loud enough to be heard over the snores. Hawke glanced over at the sleeping Templar again, just to be sure. Cullen didn’t stir and Hawke climbed down as quickly as he could then crouched by the desk to start checking the drawers. The first one had a lyrium philter in it - goddamn addicts - and the second one was full of scrolls. Likely messages about troop movements. Boring.
Hawke went the long way around the desk, staying as low to the floor as possible. The other side had an ink pot and several quills in the top drawer, but the bottom drawer seemed promising. Hawke took a tentative sniff of the bottle. Lemons? He gingerly sipped. Unsugared lemonade - by the Stone, what is wrong with this man?! The sourness kicked off his sinuses and he gagged, then started coughing.
Cullen’s eyes snapped open. He was upright with a sword pointed at Hawke faster than the rogue thought possible. Recognition and suspicion flickered across his face.
“Garrett?” he asked. The sword didn’t waver, but Cullen’s voice did.
“You know my first name, I thought everyone was convinced it was Champion by this point,” Hawke said. “Also, why the hell are you keeping lemonade in your desk? Sure, that’s fortifying in its own way but where do you keep the brandy?”
Cullen sighed and sheathed his sword. “Where’s Fenris?”
“Fuck you. Where’s my brother? And where’s your brandy?”
Cullen glared then pointed to a bookcase. “Behind the books on the top shelf.”
“If this is some Grey Warden swill, I’m going to be annoyed,” Hawke said.
Cullen snorted. “It’s free, you don’t care.”
Hawke pulled out a bottle. “Dragon’s piss?”
“Trevelyan gave it to me.” Cullen shrugged and sat back down. “Carver was in Val Royeaux last time I saw him.”
There were no other chairs, so Hawke sat on Cullen’s desk, pointedly ignoring the pained look in the commander’s eyes. “And when was that?”
“Sister Nightingale told me he didn’t attend the Conclave, if that’s what you’re actually asking. Is Fenris with you?”
“Stop asking about him.” Hawke took an experimental swig of the Dragon’s Piss. It was atrocious, but definitely alcoholic. “You’re obsessed, it’s not healthy, and, furthermore, go to hell.”
“So you snuck in here to steal my drink, ask about your brother, and insult me?”
“I was just going to steal your alcohol, but you woke up.”
“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be off playing with all your apostates?”
Hawke put the bottle down carefully so he didn’t throw it. “Are you playing dumb or do you really not know?”
Cullen looked at him blankly. “Know what?”
“Varric asked me to come here. Corypheus is my fault. Well, the Wardens’ fault, but currently, mostly mine.”
Cullen started to ask a question, but Hawke held up a finger. “I already told your Inquisitor everything, and would rather not wallow in the guilt any further when there’s a bottle I can wallow in instead.”
Cullen leaned back in his chair. “Cassandra might very well kill him for hiding you.”
“Varric said that too. If she does, I’ll kill her right back.” Hawke said it lightly, but could tell from the tightening of the templar’s expression that he knew it wasn’t a joke. Cullen leaned forward and put a hand on the rogue’s thigh. Hawke looked down at it in surprise. “What are you -”
“Please don’t kill her.” Cullen said it softly.
Hawke kicked his arm away almost before Cullen finished speaking. “Don’t fucking touch me! You lost that right the minute you let Meredith try to arrest me.”
Cullen flinched. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“Bullshit, you didn’t want to know it was that bad. You couldn’t miss what Alrik was doing even before I told you myself why I put him down! You were so obsessed with making sure your bloody Templars stayed looking unsullied you ignored all the festering rot and corruption. You promised me you’d keep Bethany safe after all those favors I did you! You brought my own brother to my would-be execution! Kirkwall was as much your fault as Anders’ and you just sit here all sad eyes and asking after my partner like you didn’t try to convince him to leave me after we took down your boss.”
“I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Yes you did. Fenris told me what you said. ‘The Champion needs someone at his side who can help rebuild the city, and a Tevinter fugitive isn’t going to have any sway here.’ Maybe if you wanted me this badly you should have said something instead of sending me on all those stupid little quests of yours - did what you asked even matter or was it just an excuse to talk to me?”
Cullen slumped in his chair. “Some of it.”
“I liked you Cullen. I really did. But you didn’t listen to me and you didn’t say anything and then you tried to get Fenris to dump me because of some fantasy version in which I’d stay in Kirkwall.”
The templar put a hand over his face. “Maker, I’m a coward.”
“Definitely.” Hawke took another sip of the Dragon’s Piss and grimaced. “That is just foul.” He shuddered as he swallowed. “So Commander, I’m going to do you a favor.”
“Are you?” Cullen sounded apprehensive. Good.
Hawke leaned in close and moved Cullen’s hand so he was looking at him directly. “I’m going to let you stop wondering what it would be like to kiss me. I’ll help your Maker-damned Inquisition. Then I’m going to walk out that door and never speak to you again. And if you are lucky, I’ll never tell Trevelyan what actually happened in Kirkwall.”
Cullen’s eyes widened in surprise, then fear, and he started to stammer a response, but barely got a word out before Hawke’s lips were on his. Cullen reached up to Hawke’s shoulder to pull him closer. Hawke immediately broke away. “You’re welcome. If I ever see you again outside of Skyhold, you’re dead.”
He swung off the desk and walked out.