Chapter Text
It had been six months since closing the breach in the sky, since the last time she caught a quick glimpse of the ethereal man, as but a wisp in her peripheral vision. Almost six months and still she struggled to wipe away the memories of the slight, gentle elf who had kissed her with the strength and passion of a rushing river. Whether in her dreams or in reality, Solas' kisses had been a force to be reckoned with, washing over her and completely engulfing her senses and soul. But he was gone. He had gone before he even really left.
It's not that Inquisition life after Corypheus was bad. On the contrary; their mission had been accomplished, their good intentions acknowledged far and wide and their group highly acclaimed and respected across all of Thedas. And as for Quinn personally, her peers admired her and she was lauded as the hero of the lands, which garnered her unexpected benefits everywhere she went.
But the world was both saved and shattered the day Solas walked out of her life. The final blow he delivered just before disappearing when he told her that what they had was real, and the person inside himself that he had shown her, the person she had loved, wasn't pretense or imaginary. It would have been easier for her if he had not said that, and allowed her to just feel wronged.
In the months that followed she had been exploring a loophole in the separation. Their first kiss had been in a dream, and so it seemed to her that wherever he was in the world, if he really wanted to, he could come to her in her dreams again. So Quinn began to sleep. Between stealing naps after meetings, and early bedtimes just after dinner, she explored her own dream world the way he had described exploring his. She tried to call out to him over the vast expanse of earth and sky, call with her soul to come touch her again with his mind, and she made her dream world as available as possible in case he answered. So much so that much of Skyhold had begun to think something was wrong with her, that she needed to see a healer. And indeed something WAS wrong. An abyss had been created in her, leaving her feeling aimless and disconnected. She clung to a desperate hope that she might fall into a rejoining that, perhaps, only existed on a spiritual plane, but was as real as the moon in the sky.
Solas had been such a contradiction. Though he was absolutely firm and uncompromising, he was also sensitive and kind. He was small in stature but enormous in power and effect. And his kindness and sensitivity had not made his words any easier to bear. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that he had to have a very good reason to break her heart the way that he did. There must have been something significant and important, but necessarily secret. She just couldn't fathom why anyone would arbitrarily break off what it was between them when they touched, when their minds and souls connected. It just made no logical sense to Quinn. When you find something that special and rare, you hold on to it, she thought. You don't purposely push it away.
But he had. Though another thing he'd said to her was that one day she would know the truth. That had yet to come, so it must still be before her, somewhere in her future.
Quinn convinced herself that the case was quite good that Solas would come back, at least to offer the promised explanation. But her dreams were devoid of the face she so longed to see. Instead they were filled with scenes of facing Corypheus again and losing, or of her walking through a muddy field as rain came down around her, and not noticing until it was too late that with every step the soggy ground had been swallowing her up. She dreamed about the faces of Skyhold, those so familiar and dear to her now, looking at her with disappointment as the breach ripped the sky open from horizon to horizon, and dropped demons and creatures the likes of which had never before been seen to destroy her homeland and beyond. Every once in a while she did dream of Solas' lips and his fingers and his eyes. Of his body pressed against hers, his hands pulling her even closer to him. But it never felt the way it did that time he took her to Haven. It never felt real, even when it hurt.
Before Leliana departed to take up the position of Divine, she had pulled Quinn aside for a final goodbye.
"I have faced the end of the world a few times now," Leliana said in that musical Orlesian accent, "but still haven't found much that is worse than the true heartbreak that comes after the loss of a love."
Quinn knew that if anyone knew anything about her ordeal, it was Leliana, mistress of secrets. Quinn nodded, knowing there probably wasn't much she needed to say that Leliana didn't already know.
Leliana squeezed Quinn's arm affectionately. "I have heard nothing about him in all this time. Wherever it is he has gone, it can only be somewhere very far and deep. I don't expect that he'll be back anytime soon. "
"You're right, I know. I am not sure why I am holding on so tightly. I feel… adrift. Life is just so different now. Things were a bit more simple when I had tasks ahead of me. When I knew my place in the world."
"That is to be expected. But you also have too much time to fill." Leliana said. "You must find a new cause. Help people. Talk to people. Don't spend so much time alone in your own mind."
"Yes," agreed Quinn. "I suppose it is time."
"It is. Things will get better, I promise." she said with a small wave, as she walked toward the small entourage of people stationed in Skyhold's courtyard, who were all waiting to accompany her.
Quinn thought hard about Leliana's words that evening. She had been saying as much to herself, that she needed to let Solas go. But her heart wasn't listening when it came only from herself, she also needed to hear it from someone else. If he had truly wanted to be with her, he would have tried to be. Or at least been honest with her. She finally came to a point of acknowledging what her brain had been slaying to her heart for months: she did not want to be with a man who did not want to be with her in return. Any relationship like that would have eroded all of her dignity. She reminded herself at every opportunity that that was all she really needed to know.
The next morning the sun shone brighter than ever into her room, imbuing the whole day with a palpable sense of hope. Instead of laying in bed and trying to continue to sleep as had become her habit, Quinn roused herself, dressed and made it to the dining hall in time for breakfast for the first time in months.
"I hear Belle has brought in a selection of dresses from Val Royeaux especially for the occasion," she heard a female voice whisper excitedly.
"Oh, thank the Maker! It has been so long since we've had occasion to dress up and celebrate something!" said another. "I need to look ravishing." she giggled.
"Well we only had the victory banquet just last fall."
"Yes but there were no pretty dresses, or dancing or visitors from far off lands. OhI hope we get a bunch of fresh blood here! I don't think I am ever going to find a suitable match from any of the residents within Skyhold!"
"Let us hope both of us are blessed with handsome men!" said the second voice.
"I am sorry to interrupt" said Quinn over the shoulder of one of the girls, a flaxen haired beauty with skin the color of amber. "But what is going on?" she asked.
"Oh you haven't heard!? Seggrit is marrying Ayana! There is to be a wedding here at Skyhold in just three days time." she said.
"I see. That's lovely news. Have they been engaged long?" she asked, a little startled that such an event could have escaped her notice.
"Goodness yes! They have been engaged since the new year."
"Oh. How exciting. Well, thank you for the information." she said politely, turning back to her breakfast.
"You're welcome Inquisitor. The guests should start arriving this afternoon. It will be so exciting to have Skyhold bustling with new visitors! I hope you do dress up with the rest of us. I bet you'll make a beautiful bride yourself someday." said the second girl from behind her.
"I will consider it. That could be very fun." she said over her shoulder. She knew she should have been making an effort to be more friendly to the two girls. After all she was feeling more herself this day than she had in longer than she could remember now. But conversation of two lovers joining together in marriage was one of the last topics she wished to discuss in detail at that particular moment.
Quinn finished her breakfast, still feeling the surprise of the news. Was she so stuck in her own troubles that she had made herself completely oblivious to those who shared her home? Yes, she realized. And she had done so deliberately.
To counter this, she spent the morning after breakfast making a special visit to both Seggrit and Ayana to wish them a personal congratulations. And then spent the rest of the day greeting the arriving visitors, even when that meant indulging in the most mind numbing small talk.
By lunch, Skyhold was noticeably more crowded. Carts and wagons rolled in and parked themselves around the stables. Ayana had family in Orlais, and many of the new visitors were dressed in the elaborately decorated dresses and suits of the Orlesian upper class, along with the traditional masks that they wore in public to display their family affiliation and status.
"Inquisitor, it is lovely to see you again." said a lilting female voice behind a white mask, which was painted in shimmering gold detail. Quinn turned to face all three of the lifesized dolls that had apparently made a beeline for her once she was within their sights. She recognized the masks from the Winter Palace, part of Empress Celene's court. She winced just thinking back upon her evening at Halamshiral. So many hours of choosing every word and gesture carefully, and hiding her inexperience at playing the Game. That evening had been hard won, and the memory of it still exhausted her.
"Madames Keliva, Tristanne and Lisette, welcome to Skyhold. It is far different here from the luxury to which you are accustomed, but I hope you find it comfortable."
"We have brought our own accommodations so as not to burden you more than necessary," said the middle one with the dark hair and powder blue skirt. While Quinn remembered all three of their names, she was less confident in her memory of which was which.
"It is no burden. Please, come share in our festivities. This is a celebration and a chance for us all to enjoy this rare moment of peacetime."
"Indeed. Your Inquisition has proven to be quite a formidable physical force, but also a strong example for balanced leadership for all of Thedas. We have you to thank for this peace. And we are pleased that our cousin Ayana has found such an agreeable home here."
Quinn gave a small bow, and as the three ladies walked off, she noticed that it wasn't just a few, but a majority of the bodies before her were sporting the masks and dress of Orlais. Skyhold suddenly felt more like the Winter Palace than the stronghold in the mountains that had become her home.
"Maker's breath," came an exasperated voice beside her. She turned to find Cullen standing and staring into the crowd of people with the same unnerved expression on his face as she felt upon her own. Even though he actually only stood a few inches taller than her, his impact upon sight was always one of a man who was very large. It must have been the lustrous mane on his armor, which was very effective at lending his appearance an intimidating quality.
"How long is this going to last again?" he asked Quinn.
"The wedding is in three days, or so I am told. I only learned about it this morning myself," she said. To this he laughed.
"I am glad I am not the only completely oblivious one in Skyhold." he joked.
"I am not oblivious" Quinn retorted, but knew immediately it was untrue.
"Well okay, maybe a little," she shrugged.
"I wish I could just hide in my office until this was all over. But somehow I've been roped into certain duties for the wedding."
"Well, you do enjoy having duties." she said.
"That I do, but I prefer them not to be so frivolous." he said.
"You find marriage to be frivolous?"
"No, on the contrary! I respect marriage a great deal. It is my duties that are frivolous. It is not enough that I have to keep order among our soldiers and guests, but apparently I also have to protect our larders. Someone has already raided our wine and cheese stores."
"Well frankly I am a bit disturbed to hear that you consider the protection of our wine to be a frivolous matter." She joked. He raised his scarred lip in the half smile of his that she found so endearing. She had noticed long ago that he almost never did it while conversing with anyone else. At least not that she had seen.
"Don't you worry Inquisitor, I will guard it with my life." he joked back."There shall be no drunken enjoyment allowed, outside of what has already been planned by the kitchens."
"Well that is a huge relief," she said. He nodded his goodbye and she watched as Cullen attempted to slip through the crowd, but was stopped a half dozen times by admirers before he was even partway to the door.
Before Solas, Quinn and Cullen had a few conversations that had turned decidedly flirtatious. But Cullen had fallen to the wayside after a few private moments with Solas that had intrigued her, fully capturing her attention. No one in Skyhold would deny that Cullen was a very handsome and impressive man, if a bit complicated due to a long and tragic history with the Templars. Initially Quinn felt bad about just shrugging off any interest she may have encouraged with her flirtations, but Cullen never spoke of it or treated her with anything other than respect and openness. Their working relationship had remained easy and trouble free, and he had no lack of romantic prospects. There were plenty of woman at Skyhold who followed him around with lovesick eyes. He could take his pick of lovers wherever he chose.
After slipping through the crowd herself, Quinn walked through the courtyard to the cart that held Belle's wares. There was a crowd of ladies inspecting the newly arrived dresses, which were laid out over two extra tables that must have been set up for just that purpose.
Quinn eyed the dresses, which were brightly colored and elaborate, scattered with sequins and flourishes that all were too fancy for her tastes.
"Is this all of it?" Quinn asked when Belle turned to her. "Is there nothing that is a little bit more… simple?"
"But my dear why would you want simple?" Belle asked, "This is an opportunity to enjoy wearing the very best and most beautiful. Who doesn't want to be the most beautiful woman at the ball?" Belle asked.
"I am sure there will be plenty of beautiful women there. But I would just feel more comfortable in something with fewer things that could get caught on a tablecloth as I pass by."
"Of course, come look at what I have back here." she said, and Quinn obeyed. Belle led her to a trunk with dresses that were a little closer to what she wore back during her days at her uncle's court several miles outside of Ostwick. Sleek, comfortable and lacking all the unnecessary attachments so enjoyed by the Orlesians, but still feminine. When she first held the deep red dress in her hand she knew immediately it was the one. As she unfolded it and lay it against her, her certainty was validated.
"This one. This is it." she said. She handed Belle the coin for the dress, and walked it back to her quarters where she laid it out over her bed.
She thought again about what Leliana had told her. Enjoying a celebration wasn't exactly a new and worthy cause for her attention, but it certainly had already helped to get her out of her head. And she was finding herself looking forward to dressing up and dancing, and maybe enjoying the attentions of her admirers for a change. Yes, it was time to turn over a new leaf, she told herself.
Turning to exit her quarters, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and immediately she knew she was going to need a little more work than just a nice dress. Her chin length, almost black hair was tousled, a state which was practically permanent since her youth. She never had the type of hair that would lay flat and shine like all the other girls. Her pale skin lacked the pink glow and creaminess that seemed to be so desirable among the noble courts. And the scar on her forehead cut into the hairline above her right temple, carving a white trail into the mess of black tangles on her head.
But her eyes were green and clear, and lips were flushed pink. She shrugged. She couldn't change her facial features, nor did she feel the need to paint herself up in garish colors. She could attempt to straighten her hair and powder her cheeks, but none of that would change the simple and inescapable fact that she was who she was. And that would just have to be okay.
Quinn passed the day in the courtyard, visiting with the guests and basking in the warm sun. The cold winter was behind them and each new day had been a little bit warmer than the last. Since their arrival at Skyhold almost eight months ago, the air had held an almost constant mountain chill, necessitating the burning of fires and the layering of clothing. And then the winter had blanketed their stone fortress in a peaceful but frigid patina of white for month after month. After the chaos and exertion of their battles, the quiet winter at Skyhold provided a much needed respite for everyone. But the winter had been long, dark and empty and she had slept through as much of it as she could.
Quinn leaned against a rock in the courtyard and looked out into the expanse of blue sky above her, feeling stronger and more comfortable in her own skin than she had in a long time. She had barely thought of Solas at all that day, deliberately blocking from her mind the unanswered questions, and scenes of their time together. She felt that as Skyhold, and all of Thedas, was emerging from their wintry cocoon, so was she from her own. She even smiled openly upon hearing the unexpected song of a small flock of nearby birds, who must have stopped their migration over the mountains to rest in one of the courtyard's trees.
At dinner time, when the blue of the sky was fading into a pinkish purple, Quinn took her plate of food and mug of ale into the garden, and ate among the flowers as Sister Giselle gently ministered to a small group of seated women. The garden was devoid of any of the Orlesian characters, which she found comforting. She figured they probably were trying not to dirty their shoes and dresses. While she held no ill will toward Orlesians, she couldn't help but feel a little bit uneasy being surrounded by people whose faces were never fully visible.
With a heavy sigh, Cassandra dropped to the ground beside Quinn.
"Is this over yet?" she asked wearily.
"Funny, that is the same thing Cullen asked." Quinn responded.
"Yes, I am not surprised. He grows tired of these events quickly, just like I do. I would rather be on the battlefield than constantly making the same small talk over and over to different people. "
"You and half the Inquisition."
"Well, that is probably why we have been so successful. We all prefer to focus on things that matter."
"Just imagine how much harder our victory would have been if we had not talked to so many people. But still, I completely agree with you." said Quinn.
"True there is a place for diplomacy, and that place is Josephine's office." Cassandra said. "But yes, yes, the Inquisition would not have been so successful without everyone's help. Of course. I am just weary of the repetition. What about you? You are hiding out here too?"
"I suppose I am. I have spent the day trying to make myself available and get out of my funk. Now I just wanted to eat outside so I could enjoy this lovely evening."
"What is this word, funk?" Cassandra asked.
"My sadness, I guess." answered Quinn.
"I see. So still no word from Solas?" Cassandra asked.
"No. Nothing." she answered.
"Are you still hoping for word?" she asked.
Quinn didn't know how to answer that. She had been hoping for months now and was weary of holding onto something that seemed to to be so pointless. But she couldn't deny that she would still welcome an explanation.
"Hope? I don't know if it is hope. I suppose I might be hoping a little bit, yes. But the time where word from Solas might have actually mattered is quickly fading into the past."
"It is time to move on then, yes?" asked Cassandra. Quinn so appreciated her straightforwardness.
"Yes. It is."
"Well, perhaps you would like to join me at the tavern for a drink? I am supposed to meet someone there and am feeling a little apprehensive doing so on my own."
"Oh. Of course. Is this person you are meeting handsome?" She asked Cassandra, ribbing her a little bit.
"Quite handsome." she answered matter of factly. "I have not seen him since my time with the Seekers. He is here for the wedding and, well, I admit I am feeling nervous. I don't know if my memory of him is correct, or if we will disappoint each other. We got on quite well just a few years ago."
"Cassandra, I am sure you have nothing to worry about." Quinn said.
"Well, come then. Let us go find out."
The tavern was bustling, busier than Quinn had ever seen it before. But the mass of people were quick to step aside and let the Inquisitor through. She nodded her thanks to the many patrons and quickly secured herself and Cassandra a glass of wine.
Together they climbed the steps to the second floor, stopping at the top of the stairs and looking around at the tables.
Quinn knew Cassandra must have found her friend when her features suddenly softened. Her eyebrows lifted and she nodded toward the back corner.
She was correct that her friend was handsome. He had golden skin and a strong jaw. He was not wearing the flashy red and black Seeker armor, only a plain brown coat. He sat alone with a mug, watching the colorful people around him with an amused expression.
"He has chosen a table for two." said Quinn, noticing the lack of space at his table. "I don't want to crowd you."
"Yes," Cassandra said distractedly, not taking her eyes of him. "That is fine. I am feeling less nervous already. It has been some time, but he is not a stranger."
"Okay. Well I will stay close if you need anything." Quinn said as Cassandra made her way toward the man. He stood and they hugged. Cassandra's whole demeanor was different, looser with him. Quinn smiled, feeling happy for her friend.
She turned and made her way back down the stairs, figuring if she was going to be on her own that she’d stay close to the bar. She looked down into her glass of wine and was startled to see she had already drank down most of it. Returning to the bar, she asked Cabot for a bottle of wine instead of just a glass. Raising an eyebrow, he handed her a bottle. They nodded at each other and she turned to find a place to sit. She was tempted to return back upstairs and find a table where she could eavesdrop on Cassandra. She enjoyed seeing the soft side of her brusk, warrior friend. But she knew Cassandra would see right through that, and decided to allow them their privacy.
All the tables were full, so she targeted what appeared to be a gap in the crowd of people in the back corner, near an empty shelf along the wall. But before she made it, she felt a hand take her arm.
"Help. Help me please," asked a panic stricken Cullen as he pulled her along in the direction she was already traveling.
"Forgive me. This is a strange request, but I have a few very persistent admirers, and they will find me again any moment now. Could you.." he stopped and caught his breath a second. "Could you pretend to be, you know, with me. Just until they get the hint and leave. I have tried everything and just cannot shake them." he said.
Quinn laughed deeply.
"Yes, yes I am sure this is very amusing," he said impatiently.
"No!" she cried and his face fell.
"I mean, yes of course I will help you. I am just so relieved! With the panic on your face I thought it was something serious!" she said, feeling light and loose from her first glass of wine.
"It is serious!" he insisted, trying to keep his face straight, but she saw the little curl of his lip, the beginnings of that half smile. They reached the gap along the wall and she set down her wine.
"Cullen, darling. You hadn't finished telling us the story of your…" Quinn heard the accented voice call through the bodies.
Quickly, she slid her arm around his waist and moved in close to him, resting her other hand on his chest. But he was still wearing his armor, so the body she pressed against was cold and hard.
His arm slipped around her as he began to register what she was doing, and the curl of his lip spread wider.
"Darling, I am sorry to keep you waiting, but I had been detained by a few of our visitors." he was saying loudly to Quinn as the three Orlesian ladies approached. It was the three from the Winter Palace, Keliva, Tristanne and Lisette. Three peas in a pod. She should have guessed. Those same ladies scarcely left Cullen's side that whole evening at Halamshiral.
"Inquisitor!" Tristanne exclaimed, she eyed the two of them behind her porcelain mask.
"Please, call me Quinn. Lovely to see you again. I see you have been keeping my Commander busy," she said, looking up affectionately into Cullen's nervous face. He returned her gaze and squeezed her closer.
"They certainly have. I apologize again my dear, I know I was supposed to be here ages ago."
"Oh, it's fine." said Quinn, smiling. "It gave me a chance to talk to…" Cullen nudged her gently.
"I mean, I am just glad you're here now. I had begun to worry a little."
"Cullen must have no end of interesting battle stories to tell you." said Keliva reverently.
"Actually, she has plenty of her own. Many which are much more impressive than mine," he quipped.
Lisette reached out a gloved hand to caress the red and black mane of his armor. She paused and removed her glove, and then began running her fingers through the fur as though it were a prize gelding's mane.
"I do wish Orlesian soldiers had such a stylish ensemble." she said wistfully. This made Quinn laugh. Orlesian soldiers were some of the most flamboyantly outfitted in all of Thedas.
"Do you plan on dressing for the wedding Inquisitor? I mean Ms. Quinn?" Asked Tristanne.
"I will be in attendance, yes." Quinn answered.
"I imagine you are looking forward to getting out of your commoner garb. Not that it is not becoming on you. But it is nice to change things up sometimes, no?"
"It is indeed," Quinn answered. She too was beginning to feel annoyed at their attentions. Especially all the stroking of the Cullen's armor. She felt him pulling away from their intrusively lingering hands.
"Please excuse us ladies, I have been looking forward to some private conversation with my… companion. Do enjoy yourselves." Quinn said. She pulled Cullen back into the crowded tavern even further, back toward the back door and fireplace, where the Bard was preparing to begin a new set of songs.
Cullen kept his arm tight around her waist as they made their way through the people, and she noticed a number of raised eyebrows a they passed through.
When they found an empty table he finally relaxed. The flickering of the fire cast a golden glow across them.
She knocked lightly on his armor. "Expecting a fight?" she teased.
The table was tall and lacking in stools, so they had to remain standing. He dropped his arm from her waist and turned his back to the rest of the room.
"I suppose I might blend in easier if I were in plainclothes. Maybe then I could elude all this… nonsense," he said. "Thank you Quinn. I am so sorry about all that."
"Well, I don't think our charade is up just yet. They may be across the room for the time being, but they are still eyeing you," she said. He sighed heavily.
"Besides, I can think of worse things than having the arm of a handsome man around me." she said. It took effort not to giggle. Darn that wine, she thought. She tried to regain her composure, nudging him playfully to break the tension, not wanting to add her own unwanted attentions to him on top of the Orlais ladies.
"Right," he said and cleared his throat. "Well while I would love to retire for the evening I am still supposed to meet with some of the groomsmen, to discuss security detail and the schedule of events. So for the time being I must remain. Though I haven't seen a single one of them yet. So I must ask to keep your services close by, if you don't mind too much. I hope you won't find my company to be an imposition."
"Of course it's not an imposition Cullen. I am down here alone anyway, on standby in case Cassandra needs back up. She is upstairs with a visiting friend."
"Cassandra, needing back up?"
"I know, it is unlikely. But I just left her and I don't think she'll be looking for me any time soon," Quinn said. "Actually Cullen, it occurs to me that you and I haven't really spent much time together over the last several months. I look forward to an evening of picking your brain. Perhaps you could regale me with some of these battle stories I have heard so much about."
He laughed. "Perhaps after a few more glasses of wine." Quinn realized that she had left her full bottle behind on the shelf. "Right, the wine. I seem to have set mine down somewhere. I'll fetch it real quick and be right back. Just keep your head down and maybe no one will see you. Though wearing that magnificent beast around your neck is going to make that difficult."
He looked down at his armor. “Right. Yes, I do believe I'll go remove some of this. There's a locker in the guard post just beyond the back door where I can stash it for the evening. It'd probably look better to our guests not to parade around in full battle regalia anyway. This is supposed to be a peaceful event and all."
"Good idea. I'll be here," she said, and slipped away toward the front of the tavern. Many of the tables in the room were full of boisterous people, so much so that all of the standing room was also full. It made walking through a tedious task, requiring that she stop and wait every two steps for someone else to step aside. She wondered where on earth all these people were going to sleep, and was amazed that the tavern had enough ale, wine and mugs to serve everyone with. But she supposed she was in the minority when it came to those who had not already been planning for this event for weeks.
It wasn't terribly surprising that the full bottle of wine was no longer where she thought she left it. She figured it had probably already been emptied into the glasses of nearby patrons.
She slowly made her way back to the bar, she asked Cabot for a new bottle, and two glasses.
"My, we certainly are celebrating hard tonight, eh, Inquisitor?"
"Actually I set the bottle down for a moment and it disappeared. I'll have to be more careful with this next one."
"Well, luckily we have plenty to go around," he said as he slid a new bottle across the counter.
She made her way slowly back to the corner of the tavern. The Bard was now singing, and a few tables of drunk patrons were swaying and singing along.
Surrounding a plain-clothed Cullen were the three Orlesian ladies again. They had not missed a beat.
She rushed back to them, squeezing between and around people. Unlike when she had first entered, most were so deep in their celebratory drinking that no-one even noticed who she was any more. She was grateful for that, and that realization only made her feel worse for Cullen.
"Excuse me please," she said firmly as she approached behind the three life-sized dolls. They gave a small bow as they parted and allowed her to pass.
She placed the wine and glasses on the table and moved toward Cullen, who was leaning with crossed arms against the wall. He seemed less imposing without his armor, but the light cotton shirt he wore did little to hide the curves of his muscular chest and well defined arms.
She felt an unexpected flutter in her heart as she moved in close to him again. He softened his expression and posture as she approached. This time the body she was found herself up against wasn't cold and covered in metal. It was warm, pliable and responsive. She was surprised to find that she suddenly felt incredibly nervous.
She put her hand back up to where it had rest on his chest before. But instead of a steel plate, she felt a firm strength and a pounding heart. In fact, the rate of the pounding seemed to be increasing.
The three Orlesian ladies retreated wordlessly back into the crowd, without Quinn having to say anything more.
Quinn was acutely aware of his hand gripping the side of her waist, his arm resting against her back as it held her close. It felt very pleasant. She hadn't had anyone's arms around her her since... since the man she wasn't going to think about anymore. The one who was gone, and most likely not coming back. But even then, those arms had been so slight. Still nice in their way, but very different.
"You're right, this is much better," he said. "I mean, without the armor. I was quite warm in that suit. I guess I'm so accustomed to wearing it I don't even notice any more." The ladies were back at the perch from which they watched the two of them, but his arm still hadn't dropped away.
"Yes, you look more at ease." she said, then nodded toward their audience, "I see the persistence you mentioned" She reached for the wine and poured them two glasses. Only when he reached for his glass did their bodies move apart.
"They're tenacious. I even told them outright that I wasn't interested, and that they were becoming a nuisance," he said. Quinn snorted a laugh, trying not to spit out the mouthful of her wine.
"You told them they were nuisances!? That is not going to win you any favors in their court," Quinn said.
"They barely noticed! They were too busy fawning over my armor to hear a word that came out of my mouth." Cullen said, taking a drink of the wine. "Besides I have no desire to return to their court any time soon."
Quinn didn't blame them. Cullen in full armor was a sight to behold. She had gotten used to it, but she could understand how someone who didn't see him as often as she did would be highly interested.
She liked the look of him now, too. He wasn’t much different than other man in the tavern, but he did have that way of regally carrying himself that set him apart. He was intensely focused and moved with purpose, as well as a complete lack of self-awareness. For all the shiny armor, Cullen had no idea he commanded all the admiration that he did. And something about that fact only enhanced his appeal.
"I fear I may need your assistance again over the next three days," Cullen said, looking a little flustered, casting his eyes quickly in the direction of his audience. "I do hope that they lose interest and let me be, but I am beginning to think that I can't count on that."
"Whatever you need, you got it," Quinn replied. She was beginning to think that she would enjoy this event much more than she thought. While she had never actually went through with pursuing Cullen herself, she always found him very nice to look at. And very pleasant company.
She told herself not to get too excited however. This was her friend, and he was specifically trying to deflect unwanted attention, not ask her for more of it.
She followed his gaze to the masked women and saw three pairs of dark eyes looking right back at her.
"Well if we are going to convince our audience that you are truly unavailable, we had best give them a believable show," she said, motioning toward the Orlesians.
Cullen nodded, seeing that they were still being scrutinized. "We should indeed.” He wrapped his arm around her waist once again and pulled her close with a quick, playful jerk and that half smile. Quinn felt a flock of butterflies flying loose in her stomach, and her knees suddenly seemed to have become the consistency of jelly. For all her acknowledging of his attractiveness, she was truly surprised to feel that his proximity was having such a quick effect on her. They had spent so many hours pouring over the war table, discussing plans and strategies, and she had never quite felt anything like this. Even during the card game which had him sprinting from the table in his birthday suit, she noticed and admired his warrior's physique, but her mind had never lingered.
Because of Solas. Because of the imminent end of the world.
She wondered what might have been different had she been able to resist being sucked in to Solas' mysterious world. But was a little flirting and a few glasses of wine really all it took to gain her interest?
Cullen looked down into her face with smiling, honey colored eyes that exuded warmth and intelligence. The skin upon his sharp features was smooth and flawless, but as pale as her own. And he had that appealing little scar on his upper lip. Yes, she certainly could be in a worse situation than the present one, she thought. Her hand once again crept up to lay upon his chest, revealing a heartbeat that was still racing despite their lack of real activity. She wondered what it was that he was so nervous about. Was it about being stalked by a trio of overbearing women? Or, could it possibly have been because of her?
She smiled up at him, figuring that any amount of adoration their admirers could read on her face would just help their believability. It wouldn't hurt anything to bask a little bit in this attention, would it? It was nice to be held again, to feel a man's touch, even if it was all based on a pretense. Cullen's smile widened in response to hers, and for a moment she thought he might come in for a kiss. But that would be going over and above the call of duty, even for him.
"I thought a part of the Game was never to reveal all your cards," Quinn mused. "They certainly aren't keeping anything hidden."
"No they're not. And why must they single me out? There are plenty of men here. I feel like a lamb on the way to slaughter."
She gave a sympathetic laugh and took a deep breath, trying to calm her jitters, but it only brought it in his spicy, warm scent. Despite all their hours together she couldn't remember a time when she had noticed how good he smelled.
She trailed her fingers up the front of his tunic, lightly caressing the soft thin fabric and letting her fingers stop at the button at the collar. She thought she felt him give a small shiver, but if that's what it was he covered it up with a small cough. She fingered the button, for lack of else to do. Cullen's eyes flicked about nervously.
"I can't imagine you being the type to put on a full public display even if you were with someone for real," she said, trying to make conversation.
"No, I'd be afraid it'd just come off as bad manners," he answered. She shifted her weight, and felt her leg brush his. His hand on her waist was growing hot.
"Luckily that isn't something I have had to worry about," he said. She felt the deep timbre of his voice buzzing through the skin of his throat. She wasn't sure why she was fidgeting with his button for so long. He had a little freckle on his neck just above the collar line, and the hairs on his skin were the color of spun gold.
"Well, I guess I shouldn't say luckily. It's not exactly lucky for me that I have had no one to, you know, or not that I wouldn't want..." he stopped, seemingly realizing that he was stammering.
She slid her arm up the length of his back, feeling the firm hills and valleys of his muscles. She knew he had to house a considerable musculature underneath all that armor that he wore, but feeling it for herself was still unexpectedly impressive. This is what the three ladies were probably thinking of as they stared at him in that way that they were, she thought. The way a predator does its prey. Again she thought she felt a little shiver at the movement of her hand, but if that is what it was, Cullen's face was giving no indication.
Cullen's own arm left her waist and came up to be slung upon her shoulders. He fingered at an unruly tendril of her hair, the light sensation making goosebumps dance upon her neck.
She considered how dangerous it was to toy with such an incendiary thing as physical attraction, no matter how slight. Could they truly expect that their bodies wouldn't begin to respond to each other when they were hovering so close? Surely any pair of people would feel what she was beginning to feel in the same situation.
She shook her head again, and reached for the glass of wine with her free arm. He did the same and they clinked glasses.
"Bottoms up!" she said breathlessly.
They emptied their glasses and poured another.
"This really is a terrible idea," he said gesturing to his full glass. "I am going to be drunk momentarily, and then what will you do with me?"
"I am sure I could imagine something." Quinn said. "Besides, the wine is making this all easier."
"My apologies again if you are finding this disagreeable," he said and slid his arm away. The area on her back where it lay now cooling in its absence, but she left her arm around him.
"On the contrary!" she responded. "It is... not disagreeable at all. That is sort of the problem."
Cullen cleared his throat again.
"Cullen are you coming down with a cold?" Quinn asked.
He gave a quiet laugh, "No cold. I just, uh, I don't drink often. And I do this sort of thing even less often," he said gesturing to their closeness.
The three ladies were now turned in toward each other whispering. In response she let her hand rest once again on his chest. For the show, she told herself.
People seemed to still be pouring into the tavern, the little space available still filling up. The crowd inched in closer and closer to them, which made them have to stand closer to each other to give everyone else room.
Suddenly Quinn felt drunk herself, but wasn't sure if it was the wine or the close proximity to a warm and very male body. The longer she stood there, the more sharply she was aware of Cullen's bounty of attractive features.
My goodness, she thought, was she really losing it so easily, and so quickly? Their little charade had only just begun, but already she felt herself buzzing with sensation. Every part of her that was close to him felt sensitized. Her thighs continued to brush occasionally against his, her arms around his tight waist, hand on his back, feeling the warm firmness of his strength. Without realizing what she was doing she had begun to caress any area that happened to be under her reach, even his back, which was completely out of view and so couldn't be for the benefit of a show. She stopped, forced her hand to stay still.
"We should probably let the rest of our crew in on what is happening," Cullen said finally, "You know, so that no one ends up with the wrong impression."
Quinn nodded. “Whatever you say Commander.”
"It could cause quite an uproar, and you know how gossip spreads. People will get the wrong idea. It could get back to Solas," he said. Quinn was surprised to hear him utter Solas's name. It snapped her out of her little daze.
"I am not concerned with what might get to Solas. He is no longer a part of my life. And no one knows where he is." she said, feeling her smile fall from her face.
His arm was once again encircling her waist, giving her an affectionate little squeeze. She felt his thumb gently caress her where his hand lay. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring the mood down."
"It's fine," she said. She gave him a reassuring smile, which he returned. She was exactly eye level with his lips, which were shaped like a perfect cupid's bow, a fact that she had never noticed before. It felt both exciting and natural to be resting there, in the nook between his body and his arm. She fit in that spot very comfortably. She looked away and forced herself to think of something else besides his lips. She must not lose her head.
A surge in the crowd pushed up against her and she was suddenly up tight against him, her lips only inches away from the smooth, velvety flesh of his neck. She felt his body heat radiating off of him, the electric tingle of their proximity against her skin, the comforting and stimulating weight of both of his hands on her waist. He held steady her while she regained her footing, and she braced herself against him and together they scooted away from the surging crowd. She felt the unexpected impulse to let her lips close the gap, and feel for themselves the creamy gold skin before her. The urge danced a trail down her spine and to the warmth pooling at the apex of her thighs. Their eyes met briefly, but his face betrayed nothing that he might have been thinking.
It took a few seconds before they both registered that something was happening in the crowd of people where the surge had occurred. They heard sharply raised voices amongst a hush, and without hesitating Cullen stepped around her and strode purposefully through the bodies. Two men were standing glaring angrily at each other. One of the men was wet, and the other's clothing was in disarray while he held an empty glass mug in his hand.
Cullen stepped between them and barked, "Enough." One of the men, recognizing his Commander, bowed to Cullen, finished his drink and then began pushing his way toward the door.
"You too. Go sleep it off." he said sternly to the sneering man who remained. His forceful tone left no room for argument. As the last man made his way out the door, a light applause broke out among the patrons.
Keliva, Tristanne and Lisette had managed to slip through the crowd and were just feet from where Cullen was raising a glass in cheers to the rest of the grateful crowd. They all took a drink, and then went back to their revelry.
"Will my duties never cease," he said, returning to her side.
"Commander Cullen saves the day again," Quinn joked as she refilled their glasses. He shook his head modestly and leaned against the wall.
"I barely had to do anything," he shrugged.
"That's because they respect you."
"I guess I should be surprised there haven't been more disagreements. This many people and a bunch of alcohol is a sure recipe for conflict," he remarked as surveyed the crowd. The three Orlesian ladies caught his eye, just feet away where they spoke to each other in quiet low tones. One raised a hand in a small wave.
Quinn slid back into Cullen's arm nook, and pointedly waved back at them before resting her hand back in its spot over his racing heartbeat.
"Maker's breath," she whispered, leaning in close to his ear. "I can't imagine anywhere that this behavior is acceptable. Certainly not in a noble court," she paused. "I really am surprised though, that you don't have a… real companion. You know you could take your pick." She was feeling fully intoxicated now. Only two glasses of wine! Well, two glasses and a surge of hormones.
"Is that so?" he asked, sounding amused.
"It is," she smirked.
"Well, now that things have settled down a bit I have been thinking that it would be nice to have someone to spend time with. I am no long a part of the Order, and the Inquisition requires more diplomacy than battle at the moment. Plus it has been so long since anyone has really captured my attention," he said, and she felt his hand start caressing her again. She returned the movement in kind. “I’m afraid I’ve never truly had a real relationship. It’s hard to as a Templar. The Order is supposed to be our first priority, not family. But I grew up with a big family, several siblings. I always imagined I'd have one of my own. I suppose the clock is ticking on that," he said.
"Cullen, I bet you would make a wonderful father. Very strong and dependable!" came a voice not her own. She turned her head to see Lisette standing behind her.
Quinn rolled her eyes and let her annoyance show through in the look she was casting Lisette, who retreated hastily back toward her friends in response.
"Did you see her there? They just keep popping up," she asked.
"No! Maker's breath! I think those women are crazy." said Cullen. "I am truly a little frightened."
"Don't worry, I'll protect you." Quinn joked as she trailed her fingertips up the firm curve of his spine. Cullen inhaled deeply, but didn't seem displeased. She couldn’t help but move her body in a little closer to his, feeling the tingle of need reemerge between her legs. Maker, she was ready to climb this man like a tree.
No, she told herself. Calm down.
"I'm sorry,” she breathed, “I guess there's a line we should be walking somewhere with this, but I don't know where it is. I hope you don't find this disagreeable yourself."
Cullen laughed, "Not at all."
"Please tell me if you start to," she said.
"Don't worry, if there is anything you need to know I will certainly speak up," he said. "Just relax. Let's try to focus on enjoying our evening, now that I have secured my freedom."
"Commander Cullen telling me to relax!? Well now I must really be acting tense," she laughed.
"Oh har har," he mocked. "To tell the truth I am grateful for this break in the monotony. Things here have gotten so uninteresting as of late. So much talking. To nobles, diplomats, ambassadors... Just meeting after meeting all day, every day," he said and sighed. "No, this is not disagreeable at all," he said and raised his glass to her.
She clinked his glass with her own again, and again they drank.
"So I suppose you are correct, in that we should inform the Inquisition party of our… arrangement. I think we have a long couple days ahead of us," she said as she nodded toward the approaching figure.
"You two make a very impressive couple," Tristanne said, as she stopped before them, clearly pretending to just be walking by. "Have you been together long?"
Cullen and Quinn looked at each other, silently deciding who should answer.
"Only a few months," Cullen answered. Tristanne paused, waiting for follow up, but Cullen offered none.
Quinn reached up and smoothed some pieces of Cullen's hair into place.
"There was gossip a few months ago that the Inquisitor was not well. The result of some disastrous love affair. Glad to see that you've recovered, Quinn," Tristanne said pointedly.
Quinn laughed, "Such imaginations you all have. I did experience a bit of heartbreak, but I would hardly call it disastrous. And, yes, I have made a full recovery, " she said as she looked into Cullen's eyes and squeezed in even closer. She nuzzled at his neck and Cullen played along, caressing up and down her arms. Goosebumps raised up on her skin, which he seemed to notice. His neck smelled heavenly, and it took great effort not to lay her lips upon his neck. She inhaled deeply before wrenching away to face the Orlesian again.
"Did you three ladies bring dates?" Quinn asked.
"We did not have space in our transport," Tristanne answered.
"Well, that's too bad. I am sure you will still be able to find some dance partners. Now if you'll please excuse us," she asked, turning her face back into the warm crook of Cullen's neck, her finger softly tracing the line of his collar.
"I must say, you are doing quite a masterful job at this," Cullen whispered to her. "Very convincing."
"Well, it is one of the easiest jobs I have ever had."
She continued caressing him, feeling lightheaded and thoroughly immersed in the moment. She raised her lips to his ear and whispered,
"But still not convincing enough apparently, they keep coming back."
His head lowered itself closer to her, and she could feel the tickle of his hair, and the warmth of his cheek against hers. She rested her other hand against his stomach, where she felt the outline of his muscles through the thin cotton tunic. It caused an electric ripple to travel up her body. She shifted her legs, fighting the urge to press her hips into him.
"I guess I have no choice but to continue stepping up my efforts," she said as she finally gave up the attempt to keep a little bit of space between them. She let her body rest fully against his, her hand pressing as it traveled around his taut torso to rest at the crest of a lean hip.
"If they aren't already convinced, then they are fools," he said, his voice coming in a low rasp.
Her hand left the seam of his shirt and trailed over the creamy softness of the back of his neck, and then she was running her fingers through his hair. He inhaled a ragged breath, and leaned his head against hers, pulling at her waist with both hands. If they had really been a couple, this would have been the moment that she would grind up against him and beg him to take her to bed. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, her body unable to stay still. Every inch of her wanted to rub up against him.
"I am…" he paused, sounding breathless, "fully convinced. And entranced. And… a little drunk." he said with a quiet laugh. They were holding onto each other tightly. Quinn could feel the heaving of his muscled chest as he breathed, and the warmth within her was blossoming into a full blown ache. Her own breath quickened as she imagined what passionate beast within him might be unleashed once his restraint fell away.
Quinn's lips brushed against his earlobe, and he inhaled again, causing her breathing to respond too. She wanted to do so much more, to run her hands everywhere that she dared, anywhere that might make him continue to breathe in her ear like that.
After several heartbeats, and few deep inhalations of his intoxicating scent, she forced herself to calm her body and pull slightly away before she over do. She was within a hair’s breadth of cross a line that could not be uncrossed. His head continued to hang where she left it, and when he looked up his eyes were distant and glassy. And also, full of what looked decidedly like desire.
She held his gaze for a few moments.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He swallowed visibly. "I am... " he said. Her hand was still on his taut stomach. He cleared his throat and downed the rest of his glass of wine in a single gulp.
"I haven't been with a woman in a long time Quinn," He said finally. "I am finding this whole thing to be quite… a challenge. I am only human." he said softly, almost inaudibly.
"I am sorry," Quinn said. She had not meant to tease him. She tried to pull back, but he did not loosen his grip, stopping her from going far.
"I am sorry too. I keep almost forgetting that this is all supposed to be pretense. But you are only doing exactly what I asked. I appreciate it, even if it might be a little… torturous," he said with a sly half smile.
She was about to say the words on the tip of her tongue when she heard a voice call his name.
"Cullen!"
"Ah. The groomsmen are here," he groaned. She glanced over at the man to see him giving an encouraging nod to Cullen.
"Oh look. You're saved," she said.
"Saved," He laughed, sounding sad, "I guess so. Goodnight Quinn. Our struggles begin anew tomorrow."
She let her hand trail along him as he pulled away, and his own lingering fingers slid, warm and dry along hers, interlacing for a brief moment before contact was ended. She looked into the space before her, wondering if everything that just happened was real. She didn't know why they had touched each other so much when they didn't need to, why their hands kept contact until the last possible second. The wine was inhibiting her from thinking too far beyond the physical sensations, which she supposed had probably been the whole point.
The gulf he left in the air around her after he departed was almost physically painful. Her body was throbbing, a blazing inferno burning bright. She watched the back of Cullen's head as he followed the groomsmen up to stairs to the second floor. His eyes found hers as he climbed, looking darkly into her under heavy lids. They didn't look away until he was out of sight.
Quinn wasn't sure what to think or feel in the wake of the past hour. She had come into the bar with no expectation of anything really happening, certainly not with Cullen, and certainly not so quickly. She knew her head was swimming, her body pulsating and her legs still felt weak. She had too much wine, took too many liberties and probably acted very inappropriately. He said that she was only doing what he asked, but she had to admit that she had gotten a little too into her task. With her lips on his ear, and her wandering hands...
After a quick peek up to confirm that Cassandra was still faring well, and seeing that the table she and her friend had occupied was now taken by strangers, Quinn crept back down the steps.
She slipped out the back door of the tavern and into a small grassy yard. Upon some crates sat a couple kissing each other passionately. She watched them just a moment longer than she meant to, and then looked up into the sky. The last time she had been kissed the way they were kissing each other was with Solas. And even then, he always pulled away. He was always so insistent that their feelings were all just a big mistake. She pushed thoughts of him out of her mind and studied the tapestry of stars that hung over her head.
She felt engulfed by the sensation of sheer awe, looking up at the countless pinpricks of light. So many billions of stars above in such spectacular display made her feel small, smaller than she already knew she was. And she felt even smaller now knowing that she had probably made Cullen uncomfortable. She had taken advantage of him. He needed her to pretend, and instead she took liberties with him.
With a heavy heart, she walked out from behind the tavern and back toward the main hall. But she changed her mind about retreating to her Quarters. Instead she climbed up the battlements to a small room out of the way which had a cot. She had napped there many times, feeling much more at peace in a small, spartan room than in the luxurious quarters that had been appointed for her. She had never known such extravagance before in her life, and still felt uneasy with it.
She closed the door to the small stone room and curled up on the bed to sleep the dreamless sleep of the dead.