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Chapter Text

War room meetings were decidedly one of Cullen’s least favorite parts of the day. The three other women in the room had moved on from tactical maneuvering to gossip, something he wished to stay away from. It seemed that gossip was doomed to follow him since the women refused to allow him to leave the room.

“It seems the Krem finally asked Scout Harding to a drink,” Leliana said.

“Really? Oh, but they will be adorable together! Did Bull tell you about the redhead from the bar? They are getting a bit more serious, now. I expect a number of weddings to plan in the fall.”

“Hm, if anyone gets the courage to ask,” Lavellan said, a smile gracing her face.

“Ladies, I have a chess game that I must make,” Cullen protested. The daily chess matches with Dorian were originally a forced upon obligation to get him to take breaks. Over time, Cullen grew to anticipate besting the mage in a battle of wits, not that Dorian was necessarily unarmed in that regard. He simply lacked the patience to master the game.

“He didn’t tell you?” Lavellan asked. All three of the ladies’ attention focused on him. “His parents arrived today. A contingent of Tevinter soldiers among them, actually." Lavellan seemed unaware of the alarmed looks she received from the three advisors. "I think they're trying to have him go back to his home."

"But why?" Josephine pressed. "Surely they must know that Dorian wants nothing to do with them."

"Something about a name? Oh, and a deal. Dorian didn't seem happy, but he told me not to intrude. Pretty adamant about it."

"A deal? What sort of deal?"

"He wouldn't tell me," Lavellan said and continued to speak, though Cullen didn’t hear it clearly because he was already out the door.

Dorian was not a hard man to find. All Cullen had to do was follow the shouting in Tevene to the alcove Dorian had sequestered himself to in the library.

"Is everything alright here?" Cullen asked when he stepped foot into Dorian's space. To be perfectly honest, the Commander had no idea why he was intruding, only that he wouldn't allow Dorian to leave with a family that Cullen knew he wanted less than nothing to do with.

The fact that Cullen may have harbored a slight admiration for the mage might have something to do with it as well. Cullen was an expert at quelling any feelings of admiration though. Especially after his admiration of the Hero of Ferelden.

Before Dorian stood a man and a woman, both very obviously his parents. Halward Pavus was shorter and doughier than his son, and it seemed as if the man could not decide on whether he wished to appear chastened or furious. The woman was otherworldly in her beauty, though drastically marred by the pinched look of her face and tension in her shoulders.

The three Tevinters’s attention swung over to his direction, allowing Dorian to regain some modicum of composure.

"Ah, Commander," Dorian said as he smoothed his attire. "Apologies if we disturbed you."

"Not at all." Cullen rested his hand on the pommel of his sword. The air still hung with tension, but instead of festering it was allowed to dissipate. "I was merely concerned when you didn't show for our chess match."

A risky lie, Cullen thought, if only because Dorian may have been waiting for him in the garden when his parents accosted him. But it was better than saying he worried that Dorian was going to be drugged and whisked away.

Dorian cocked his head, eyes narrowing as he apparently saw right through the lie. It could have been because Dorian had been to the chessboard, or that he knew all of Cullen's tells. Of which, he was assured, he had many.

"I had not realized so much time had passed, Commander. But where are my manners? Commander, may I introduce my parents, Magister Halward Pavus and Magister Lucretia Pavus, both of Minrathous. Father, mother, may I present Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford, former Knight-Captain of Kirkwall and current Commander of the Inquisition's army."

Cullen shot the mage a weak glare, but bowed dutifully to the man and woman before him. "Serahs. I hope Skyhold is to your liking."

Halward opened his mouth to speak, but Dorian cut him off. "Unfortunately they are unable to stay to see Skyhold in all of its magnificence. Mores the pity, really, but Magisters. All off to ruin new lands and enslave new peoples. Very hectic scheduling. Perhaps you could help me see them to the gates, Commander?"

If it wasn't for spending a great deal of time in Dorian's company, he would wave off his rudeness towards his parents for anger. That was perhaps what the mage was going for, but Dorian spoke truer with his hands than with his lips. The ringed fingers at Dorian's sides idly traced glyphs through the air like a caged animal would bare its teeth.

"Of course," Cullen said and stepped back to allow the Tevinters passage from the alcove, while also putting him closer to Dorian. No one moved.

"My son seems to think our conversation is over when it is not. If we may speak with him in private, serah?" Halward said as he bowed to Cullen.

"Truly, the conversation is over, father. I care not for whatever deal you and I made back in Minrathous, I am not leaving the Inquisition. You and your merry band of hired hands are leaving."

"Deal?" Cullen asked. "What manner of deal? Is there anything the Inquisition can do to help?"

"I suspect not," Lucretia said, and it was clear that Dorian received most of his mannerisms from his mother. Her eyes sparkled in the low light with a barely there smirk. "If Dorian were not--how did you put it, Halward?--a "kept" man at his thirtieth nameday, then Halward was free to marry him to a woman of his choosing."

"You're thirty?"

"Yes, Cullen, thank you for picking the most inconsequential piece of that statement out and focusing upon it." Dorian rounded on his father and Cullen felt the telltale shift in the air to know Dorian wasn't reigning in his magic well. "You cannot make me go back."

"The agreement was signed, Dorian." Halward sighed, acting like Dorian was a spoiled child who refused to eat his greenery. "I have a clerk of the court if you will not come willingly."

Flames sparked at Dorian's hands as he stalked towards his father. "Fuck you and fuck your cl-."

Cullen stepped in front of Dorian and wrapped an arm around his shoulder to halt his advance. The mage stilled at his touch, the fire dying in his palms but he kept his eyes on his father. "Dorian, relax. You don't want to commit patricide."

"The thought is increasingly appealing," Dorian murmured, low enough to keep out of his father's hearing range.

A woman's laugh rang through the library, though Cullen did not turn to look at Lucretia as she spoke. "You see, Halward? We came all this way for nothing. It seems our dear Dorian has found a partner in the Commander."

Dorian's eyes widened as he turned his gaze to his mother. "P-Partner?"

"Oh yes, dear. No need to be shy about it. You must forgive him, Ser Rutherford, he always wanted to keep his lovers hidden from us."

"I-" Cullen started and stopped. Dorian's eyes locked onto Cullen's, and Cullen saw the fear in those normally glimmering eyes. But it was the blush that crept up the mage’s neck that made Cullen's resolve harden.

Which of course, Dorian noticed. "Cullen," Dorian's voice shook slightly as he whispered. "You don-."

"Yes!" Cullen said as he turned back to Dorian's parents. "Sorry. Yes. Dorian and I have kept it a secret from Skyhold, however. So we would appreciate it. . . ." Cullen allowed his voice to trail off.

"You cannot honestly expect me to believe this farce," Halward replied, eyebrows furrowed as he glared at Cullen and Dorian.

"Come now, Halward. Young love often does foolish things. Or so I'm told." Lucretia turned her smile to Cullen and Dorian, her eyes holding the same gleam Dorian's did when he made a rather clever play in chess. "If you must, simply have them complete the old Tevene courting rituals. I'm sure they would be more than happy to if it meant Dorian stayed."

Chapter Text

"What in Maker's name were you thinking?!" Dorian shouted. After a few more terse words with Dorian's parents, the mage had all but dragged Cullen to the Commander's office. There were more than a few curious gazes as Dorian pulled Cullen across Skyhold with his cloak acting as a leash, which Cullen attempted to wave away to no avail.

Once in the safety of Cullen's room, Dorian was free to scream as loud as he wished. It was just much louder than Cullen was expecting.

"They were going to take you back to Minrathous," Cullen protested. "From what I saw, that was the last thing you wanted to do."

"Yes, but despite what you may believe, I do not require a knight in dull armor with a cloak that smells like mabari to come rescue me from the clutches of my parents! As if I were some starry-eyed maiden!"

"Then what was your plan?" Cullen asked, crossing his arms. The anger and sarcasm was expected, but Dorian pacing and running his hand through his normally coiffed hair was not. None of this was truly expected because Cullen hadn't entirely planned this out. A strategist by nature, he had taken the option given to him most likely to succeed. Dorian needed to be in a relationship, Lucretia thought they were already in a relationship. It wasn't exactly a hard decision to make.

A proper Tevene courtship was not originally in his plan, but Cullen would not be a proper strategist if he couldn’t plan around unexpected obstacles.

"Patricide," Dorian sighed as he flopped into Cullen's desk chair, somehow making the motion look dignified. "Until you so rudely interrupted."

"Yes, a dead Magister at Skyhold would be preferable, I suppose. At least we'd be doing something the Chantry approved of."

Dorian ran a hand over his face, hiding his smile behind long ringed fingers. "Don't sass me, Commander. You just doomed us to a very long month in which my father is aware we're lying to him. He'll be purposefully sabotaging us as he tries to catch us in our lie. And really, sabotaging is not a terribly rare skill set in a Magister." Dorian ran his hand through his hair again, disturbing the styled locks. "Should have forced him into compassion," Dorian muttered. "That we can outplay him on."

"A month?"

Dorian stared at the man, the mirth shifting on his face to an amused sort of desperation. "Thirty days. Festis bei umo canavarum. You have no idea what a Tevene courtship is, do you? Don't answer that. Of course you don't. Why would a Southern Chantry boy need to know? Yes, Commander, a Tevene courtship has thirty different steps. Though hardly anyone follows the damn thing. Most marriages are arranged, in Tevinter at least, and you can see how much love is in those."

"How hard can it be, Dorian? We exchange gifts and letters for thirty days and your parents leave. It's a courtship, not a marriage."

Dorian threw his head back and laughed, the sound bouncing off the wall of Cullen's office. "Of course, Commander, how terrible of me to worry. Would it surprise you that Tevinters do exchange gifts in their courtship? Oh yes, but you see, we like to do things out of order. Terribly contradictory, if only for contradiction's sake. You Southerns court for love, Tevinters court for heirs. Regardless of the presence--or lack thereof--of love."

"Dorian. Just explain what we're expected to do."

The mage huffed a bit, probably upset at his fun being cut short. He always did like to horde and lord over information in a way that Cullen didn't really understand. It was an amusing habit, so long as Dorian used it on people other than Cullen. "What it means, my dear Commander, is that on day one we're expected to--how do I say this in the trade tongue?--"push the beds together," as it were."

Cullen's face managed to drain itself of all color in one second and then turn bright red in the next. "Wh-What?"

Dorian smirked, the confident and flamboyant mask back into place. "Relax, Commander. I shan't be stealing your virtue and I have none left for you to steal from me. But the first ritual, if you could call it that, is called pari passu pro domo sua. It's a phrase in Tevinter that means mutual domesticity as well as shared sleeping arrangements."

Mutual-? Oh. Moving in together. Cullen hoped that the shared sleeping arrangements would be satisfied with two separate cots. A distant hope, but hope nonetheless. "Maker's breath, Dorian, you could have said that in the first place."

"And miss your striking blush? Perish the thought!" Dorian's fingers tapped out a quick beat on Cullen's desk as the mage seemed to consider something. "I assume you'd rather stay where you are so I will be the accommodating one and very graciously move some of my things in here."

The image of Dorian moving into Cullen's room made something sweet twist in his stomach. It also made him realize that this was a terrible idea. The absolute worst sort of idea. Dorian couldn't move in to Cullen's room. Cullen blushed and stammered himself to an early grace every day with only a scant hour spent in the mage’s company. How in Maker's name was he supposed not make a fool of himself when he'd literally be sleeping right next to him every night for the next month?

Dorian rambled on about the hole in Cullen's roof and how it absolutely must be repaired before Dorian slept in that room. "Dorian, you really don't have to do this," Cullen said, cutting across Dorian's speech. "I entered you into this sham without consulting you and for that you have my deepest apologies, but we can tell your parents it was a lie. We can find another way to keep you in Skyhold."

The mage sighed at Cullen's desk, slumping in the chair as pieces of that mask fell back away. "You asked if I had a plan. I didn't. I don't. That...contract," Dorian said the word as if the mere sound of it poisoned his lips. "That my father had me sign was signed nigh on ten years ago when I was drowning in more drink than Skyhold can hold. And like most things out of Tevinter, I'm sure it's rather airtight in its own perfected corruption. So while I take offense to the idea of needing a Templar riding on a white stallion to my aid, I am not about to wave off his considerable help. If nothing else, the lie buys us enough time to get the contract to Varric and the Ambassador to see what they can do."

Dorian stood and straightened out his clothes, taking a brief look around the room. His eyes darted over Cullen's bookshelf to the ladder and fell, with distaste, back on the hole Cullen never bothered to fix. "Well, I will go get a few of my things while you inform everyone of your brilliant strategy and beg from your knees for their assistance."

Dorian was out the door before Cullen processed what he said. With a sigh, the Commander followed after him, looking to his overly curious soldier that guarded his office. "Find the Inquisitor for me. Emergency war room council."

The three women in the war room weren't angry or sympathetic or irritated.

They were giggling.

"A little less laughing would be appreciated." Cullen had his head in his hands so he didn't have to see the amused women in the room. He wondered if it was too late to request to go on active duty. Surely Cassandra was able to take over as Commander as he threw himself into the next High Dragon fight Lavellan decided to go on.

With any luck, it may just eat him whole and save him this trouble.

"I'm sorry, Cullen," Leliana said, though he still heard the mirth in her voice. "But Dorian is the only person in all of Skyhold who doesn't know about your little crush. Dorian's mother was with you two for five minutes and she figured it out."

"It's cute!" Lavellan said. "A Tevinter mage and an ex-Templar. Varric should write this into a book."

"Varric has written into a book," Josephine sighed wistfully. "He hasn't released it yet, but he let me read it to see what I thought of it. But this! Oh, this is so much better than his book!"

"Maker's breath. . . .Ladies, you're not helping." Cullen's mind already racing to finding blackmail material to get Varric to destroy that book. Maybe he would insist on Varric accompanying him to the High Dragon fight and throw the dwarf in the blasted thing's mouth.

"Oh, Cullen! You should use this opportunity to tell Dorian how you feel!" Lavellan was practically dancing on her toes as she wiggled her way underneath Cullen's arms to drag his hands away from his face. "It's perfect. You could use the lie of courting Dorian to, you know, court Dorian."

"I don't want to court anyone, I just want Dorian to stay in Skyhold and I panicked. There was an escape route and I took it."

Cullen was sure he was speaking. He heard his voice and heard the words, but none of the women were paying him any attention.

"Believe it or not, a typical Tevene courtship is actually quite romantic, if a bit forward," Josephine told her co-conspirators. "I assume Dorian is moving in with you as we speak?"

Cullen's blush return in full force as the women before him gave squeals of delight. "He insists the hole must be fixed," Cullen mumbled, trying to bring his hands over his face once more but Lavellan was having none of it.

"You shems move fast. I'll have a team of soldiers patch the hole with wood for tonight and they can start it in earnest tomorrow." Lavellan turned around to press her back against Cullen's chest, bringing his arms around her shoulders and held onto his wrists tightly. It was an odd sort of embrace, but it made a fairly decent prison. "What else happens in a Tevene courtship?"

"Well, if Dorian is already "pushing the beds together,"" Josephine said, causing Cullen to groan and wish to bury his head in Lavellan's hair. It was a motion too familiar to do with the Inquisitor, even if they were close friends. "Then you are already on day one. Day two would be an exchange of tokens. Something that pronounces one another's claim to the public overtly. The pursuer's claim, Cullen's in this case, must be fairly obvious."

How did Dorian not tell him about this? Dorian didn't even like to speak with Cullen in public for fear that people would think the "evil Tevinter Magister" was having undue influence over him. He couldn't imagine the mage walking around wearing a token of his.

"Dorian wouldn't want to wear anything of mine," Cullen insisted. "Also, I have nothing to give him."

"Your cloak," all three women said at the same time.

"And don't tell me you haven't thought about seeing Dorian wearing it because I know you have, Cullen. I've imagined about it, and it's adorable. In any case, we'll talk to the inner circle and let them in on what's going on. Also, I'll take Solas on missions instead of Dorian and we'll shuffle paperwork and take some missives away from you."

"Thank you," Cullen said, finally getting back to why he was really in that room with the three clucking hens. "And Dorian would like Josephine and Varric to look at the contract to see if he can get out of it without all this...mess."

"Of course, of course," Josephine said, seeming eager to get her hands on a Tevinter political contract. "Just one question. Is he really thirty?"

Cullen left the war room feeling like every pair of eyes was on him as he walked through the castle's foyer. Surely they all must know by now his "admiration" of Dorian. Of Dorian's deal with his father. Of Cullen's brilliant idea of falsely courting the mage when he could, very reluctantly, admit to himself that he wanted to court Dorian properly.

Any advances Cullen made now would be done under the guise of a lie though. Dorian would never believe any move Cullen made to be anything but false.

Cullen could speak to Dorian, of course, but somehow he imagined that Dorian would respond less than enthusiastically with being strong armed into courting him. What if Dorian didn't want him? He'd still have to go through with the entire false courtship.

Maker's breath.

His mind had been turning in so many different directions he nearly missed Dorian's father until he almost ran into the man. "Excuse me, serah," Cullen muttered and gave a half-hearted bow as he attempted to maneuver around the Magister. Halward stepped in front of Cullen's escape route deftly.

"You are not courting Dorian," Halward said simply. "Is the Southern Chantry so different than the Imperium's that it endorses lying?" Halward asked with a sneer. Halward obviously shared some physical traits with his son, the nose and eyes especially, but that was where the similarities ended. Dorian's face was aristocratic and always held a sense of humor. Halward's was worn and Cullen didn’t imagine that face ever did anything but glare.

"Strange," Cullen replied as he straightened his back. Kinloch Hold, the Gallows, Knight-Commander Meredith's madness, the Arishok's war on Kirkwall...and Halward thought he would be intimidated by a Tevinter noble too pampered to ride a horse to Skyhold, instead opting for a carriage. "I thought lying was regarded as an art form of Tevinter."

"Of the nobility. Which, I am assured, you are not."

"Not in the traditional sense," Cullen said, his anger for this man rising. "But I would remind you that I do control the army whose stronghold you stand in. That army consists of people who would be willing to die for Dorian, including the Herald of Andraste, a Ben-Hassrath spy, the former Knight-Enchanter, a spirit of the Fade, and both the former left and right hands of the Divine, one who is a Seeker of Truth and the other is the Spymaster who stopped the fifth Blight with the Hero of Ferelden.

"So no, not royalty. Do I need to be?" Cullen took a step towards Pavus, hand on the hilt of his sword. The Magister did not back away. "Dorian is staying in Skyhold. I will ensure that peacefully by courting him, but do not doubt that I will resort to other options if forced."

Cullen pushed past Pavus and stormed over to the training grounds. If he couldn't put a sword in that man's face, he could damn well teach recruits how to do it.

Chapter Text

Cullen and Dorian contemplated the Commander's bed as if it were some type of battlefield. Both men stood at the foot of the bed, resolutely not meeting one another's eyes.

"And we have to sleep in the same bed?" Cullen asked for the tenth time. "Yes, Commander," Dorian sighed, but he didn't step any closer to the bed either.

"Why is this day one again?"

"Heirs, Commander. Heirs. I think they are rather hoping the forced proximity would lead to boredom as there's only so much two people can do bored in a bed."

Cullen's face bloomed scarlet at the reasoning. "Oh."

"Yes, it's like no one has ever heard of sleep. Sleep is to Tevinters what good hygiene is to Southerns, apparently."

"You seem to do well with both," Cullen said. Most of the items Dorian had brought from his room fell into the category of grooming and hygiene or books. Cullen was tempted to tell the mage that he had two very large bookshelves filled to bursting, but resisted. The books Dorian brought looked far more complex than anything Cullen had. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw books written in Tevene, Anders, and Orlesian.

"It's a perk of pariah-hood. I get to steal all the best pieces of culture."

"Yet you insist on a shoulder-less outfit in a snow-capped mountain."

"Fashion, Commander! Ask Vivienne why she insists upon baring her breasts in much the sam- Ah! There's that lovely blush. Do you ever fear it becoming permanent?"

"Do you ever fear that smug smile of yours will stick?"

"Hm, fear?" Dorian asked as he began to relax, turning to face Cullen and away from the bed. "No, all my looks are rather dashing. Though I would weep for Thedas. I'm far too pretty for one expression."

Cullen laughed, glad for the awkwardness to dissolve into their normal banter. It had been an incredibly long day of barking orders at recruits and dodging the knowing looks Varric and Cassandra sent his way.

Then he had come back from training to discover Dorian reading a book at his desk. His chest swelled at the domestic scene, and he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around the mage, but only just. Dorian was moved-in for five minutes and Cullen already regretted his big mouth and idiotic plans.

Five minutes and he'd have to deal with thirty more days without scaring Dorian away completely. Or at least long enough for Josephine and Varric to figure out a way to break the contract. If they were even trying at all.

"Are you sure I can't just bring a cot up here?" Cullen asked.

"Not on the first night. Twenty gold pieces that either my mother or father find some perfectly reasonable excuse to awaken us at an unholy hour. Is the idea of sleeping next to me really so abhorrent?"

"What?! No! I-" Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, trying to not blush under Dorian's smirk. "Maker's breath. I'll just- I'll, uh, I'll go get ready."

Cullen pushed past Dorian to his dresser to take out his sleep clothes, having to dig around the drawers for a sleeping shirt. Cullen slept shirtless for the most part, but that wouldn't be advisable for tonight.

Would it?

Probably not. Maybe Cullen should try it after a few days. If he slept shirtless, then Dorian might consider sleeping shirtless, and that was too much too soon for Cullen.

Why couldn't this be a Ferelden courtship with flowers and stammering for half a year before a chaste kiss? Instead, Tevinters decide to make it as uncomfortably close as possible.

"Turn around," Cullen said, motioning for Dorian to turn around so he could change.

"Oh come now, Commander, don't ruin my fun."

"Turn."

"Oh, very well," Dorian huffed and made a show of turning around to face the bed once more. "You will fix this hole more than simply bandaging it with wood, yes?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. I spoke with the Inquisitor about getting soldiers to patch it with mortar. It should be done by this time tomorrow."

"Wonderful. I don't know how you stand the cold. The last excursion Lavellan dragged me on was Emprise. I was tempted to hide in the stables as she searched for me, but one must have limits."

Cullen smoothed down his sleep clothes, feeling oddly naked. He'd always worn his full armor around Dorian, allowing his plate mail and sword to act as a weak barrier. Without that, Cullen felt self conscious. Not that he should. Dorian had seen him without his shirt at the not-to-be-mentioned game of Wicked Grace.

But back then, he wasn't about to lay next to the man for hours. Asleep.

Cullen's Templar training raised its ugly head for a moment in his mind. Was he really going to sleep next to the mage who had helped develop--and counter--time magic? The thought was easily quashed. Dorian wouldn't harm him if only because he didn't want to be the cliched evil Tevinter Magister. Not that Cullen thought Dorian would harm him at all, whatever the circumstance. It was hard to battle two decades' worth of training, but Cullen would trust Dorian with his life.

"You can turn," Cullen said as he fiddled with his traditionally unused sleep shirt. Dorian spun on the ball of his foot and smirked at the Commander, stepping closer to him. Cullen tried to hold Dorian's eyes, he really did, but the amused gray eyes were disconcerting in their intensity.

"You're shorter than me," Dorian said after a long while. "I never realized that. How marvelous."

"An inch. At most."

"Yes, but in an inch in all the right places, Commander," Dorian said with a salacious wink.

Cullen rolled his eyes. "Just get ready, Dorian."

"And now he's eager to get me into bed. Such mixed signals, Commander."

Cullen turned to give Dorian privacy to change into more comfortable clothes. Where Cullen stammered and fumbled in his nervousness, Dorain returned to his old habits and increased the brightness of his mask.

And how desperately Cullen wanted to peel that mask away. Sure, some of the bravado was Dorian. That's who the man was, after all, but Cullen wanted to see more of the man who had flopped in his desk chair earlier that day. The one who couldn't reign in his fire or hatred for his father in the library. The one who looked, for just the slightest moment, a little lost. A little human.

Cullen supposed that might make him a terrible person. Why would you want to see anyone lost or full of rage? But Maker help him, he wanted to see what more Dorian had to him than his charming smiles and quick tongue.

Not that he didn't want to see those, too.

Thirty days gave him a wonderful opportunity to see what Dorian looked like with that mask off or even cracked. And maybe he could take Lavellan's advice. Just because the courting was a pretense in name didn't mean that Cullen had to fake the gestures. Or the intention behind those gestures.

The question, of course, was how to ensure that Dorian didn't think he didn't want it just to "look good." His apparent abundance of tells and inability to lie may actually help him out in this case.

"Commander?" Dorian asked, startling Cullen out of his thoughts.

How many times was a Pavus going to sneak up on him?

"Ah, sorry, Dorian. Thinking."

"Nothing too strenuous, I hope?"

"It's been a rather odd day," Cullen said. Dorian came up beside Cullen, both of their eyes back on the bed like their original stalemate. Cullen peeked a bit at Dorian, rather surprised the mage didn't wear a silk sleep shirt. Instead, it looked much like Cullen's simple clothing though black and heavier. "Do you. . .have a preference?" Cullen was already blushing, he felt the heat in his cheeks and thanked the Maker that Dorian's eyes were fixated on the bed. "On sides?"

"Ah. No, not particularly. Though I will take the right as it seems you prefer the left. Left to me to be the gracious one, yet again."

"Oh. Yes. I do," Cullen said and shot Dorian a puzzled look. Dorian responded by rolling his eyes, smiling fondly, and pointed to the sword propped up on the left side of the bed. Cullen had placed it there the first night they'd all arrived in Skyhold. A precaution, nothing more.

"Well, shall we? It is freezing." There was a slight chill in the air, but nothing that could remotely be called 'freezing.' Dorian stepped to the right side of the bed and pulled back the duvet. He looked back to Cullen and raised his eyebrows as if asking what the Commander was waiting for.

This was silly, Cullen thought. He had faced demons and abominations. Sleeping in the same bed as the man of his affections should not be more frightening than that.

So Cullen took his place on the opposite side of the bed and together, they both slid in. Cullen was practically falling off the edge, and he assumed Dorian was as well with how much space they'd kept in between the two of them. But they were both in the bed, and that was a small victory.

"Dorian?" Cullen asked the ceiling, and the only indication the mage heard him was the mage's slight hum. "I might- Sometimes I have. . .nightmares."

The mage said nothing for a long while and Cullen worried that Dorian had already fallen asleep. "Would you like me to awaken you if you have one?"

"If you can."

With that, both men stared at the ceiling for hours until the tendrils of sleep ensnared them both.

And if Cullen woke once in the night to one of his legs hanging off the mattress because Dorian was pressed tightly against his back while simultaneously taking up the whole of the bed, well, no one could blame him for the stupid smile that broke on his face. Even if the mage's nose was absolutely freezing on the back of his neck.

"Do tell me you boys are going to awaken before dawn," came a voice. Female. Cullen didn't care in the slightest as he burrowed himself deeper into the pillow and shifted. There was something hooked around his ankle, but it moved without too much provocation and settled once again. "Come now. Isn't there training to be done?"

"Once the sun crests the mountains," Cullen mumbled. "Until then, no."

"Yes, well, then you can laze about Ser Rutherford, but Dorian is coming to train with me this morning."

Dorian? Oh, right.

"It is still night, mother," came Dorian's sleep heavy voice to his side. "You've done your less than subtle spying, now leave us be."

"Dorian, you and I are sparring." Lucretia's voice brooked no argument, the universal mother voice when a child misbehaved. Cullen turned to peek at the woman through one eye. She was already immaculately dressed with an ornate staff on her back, looking for all of Thedas like she had gone to sleep like that. "The mages you keep in this stronghold are adorable in their idiocy, but you cannot honestly expect me to spar with them. I would break them all with a dispel."

"In case you were wondering where I got my humility, Commander," Dorian said into his pillow, barely intelligible. Cullen replied with a grunt and tossed his head to face Dorian. The mage looked just as willing to wake up as Cullen did. The normally perfect hair was in complete disarray and he had coccooned himself within the blankets he had more or less stripped from Cullen.

But those gray eyes were open, though Dorian looked like he hung onto sleep more than awareness. "You owe me twenty gold pieces."

"I didn't take that bet."

"Formalities."

"Dorian!" Lucretia's voice called and it was a wonder that Dorian didn't throw a pillow at his mother's head. Cullen was close to doing it. "We are sparring."

"Yes, yes, but I am asleep right now. Nothing short of an Archdemon will change that. I will meet you in the hall an hour past dawn and not a moment sooner."

Lucretia huffed and began her descent down the ladder, muttering all the while about disrespect, youth, and ladders.

"I told you. Tevinters and sleep."

Cullen gave a sound of agreement and fell back into sleep once more.

"Commander!" came another woman's voice and startled Cullen into the world of the living. This one he knew though, the same voice that acted as his morning bell every morning in Skyhold. "Your recruits are up!"

"It's your mother this time." Dorian groaned and turned over, attempting to use the pillow as a sound buffer. Cullen smirked and hoped that Cassandra wasn't able to hear the mage. He didn't think the Seeker would appreciate the title.

"I'll be down in a few!" Cullen shouted back and waited for the sound of the door closing before he started the process of sitting up.

The bed was a mess. Dorian had taken up the majority of the mattress while also leaving a great deal of it bare in his contortion. His ankle was still hooked around Cullen's ankle, even through all their shifting. Cullen could only assume it was Dorian's way of stealing heat because his feet were icicles.

Cullen was too tired to be embarrassed or flustered by the mage's presence. His only rational thought was that if he was not on the training grounds in half an hour, Cassandra would come back, and she would be less than pleased.

"I'd always imagined you were a morning person, Commander."

"I awaken only when forced," Cullen said as he sat up, unwinding his ankles from Dorian's. "And from the Chantry to the Inquisition, I am always forced." Cullen rose and went to his dresser to pluck the first pair of breeches he found out of the drawer. He thought better of it and made sure to inspect them. Sera did have a rather odd fascination with men's breeches.

"How sad to be so needed."

"You're needed as well. You've an angry mother to spar with," Cullen reminded Dorian. Once some of the sleep had fallen from his mind, he took a good look at the mage in his bed.

In his bed. The thought gave Cullen a small trill of happiness. Cullen shared a bed with him. All through the night. Dorian had his face against Cullen's neck earlier and his ankle wrapped around Cullen's own. It wasn't intimate, but it was at the same time.

"Don't remind me. She'll drag me to spar by my ear, I assume. Then it will really feel like home." Dorian threw off the duvet and sat up, running his hands through his mussed hair. Cullen imagined that hair in disarray from a much different activity and had to look away before his face caught on fire.

It will become permanent if I can't control these thoughts. He imagined his life with a permanent blush and thought there was probably not much difference between that life and this life.

"Well," Dorian clapped his hands and brought the Commander's attention back to him. Dorian looked rumpled. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair sticking every which way, and even his moustache was slightly askew. The latter Dorian easily fixed with a practiced hand as he smoothed it out, though it still needed something to tame it before he went out in public. "We have survived the first night. Day one of thirty was a resounding success and my mother has, most likely, informed my father of that at this point. We should celebrate with a drink."

"It's dawn."

"That's never stopped me before. Casting spells while drunk is not something I would recommend however, so the drinks will have to wait. Mother has probably already beaten me to it, anyhow. . . ."

Cullen snorted and motioned for Dorian to turn around so he could change. The mage dutifully did, after making a show of it, and kept speaking. "Day two is far less physically intimate. It's a shame, really. What's the point of starting off in a bed if you can't continue all your rituals in a bed? You're blushing, I hope."

"I'm not." Cullen was. "Besides, the most intimate thing that happened in that bed was you nearly pushing me off and stealing the duvet as you did it."

"Yes, well, it's freezing up here," Dorian said by way of explanation.

"It must be just as cold in your rooms."

"Yes, but in my rooms I have a fireplace. It's not hard to spell a fire a few degrees hotter. In your room, you have a barely patched hole in the roof. Differences, Commander. Differences."

Cullen grabbed his cloak from its chair and stepped lightly to Dorian. His bare feet against the wood made no sound, and Dorian was distracting himself with speaking about the cold and making broad hand gestures. He yelped when Cullen draped the cloak on his shoulders and turned, hands already poised to cast a spell.

"What in Andraste's name do you think you're doing?"

Dorian did look good in his cloak, Cullen thought. The red and the black accentuated Dorian's hair and eyes in was Cullen hadn't originally considered. He'd have to find a way to get Dorian to wear the colors more often. And perhaps he should ask the ladies for their advice more often if they did it without the giggling or teasing.

Perhaps not, then.

"Day two is tokens, right?"

"I- Well, yes?" Dorian wound his fingers through the fur at his neck and pulled the cloak tighter around him. "But how did you know that?"

"When you fed me to the wolves," Cullen said and crossed his arms. He really had to leave this room. Seeing Dorian in his cloak, not only in his cloak but also pulling it tighter around him, was doing things to him he'd rather not admit to. Certainly not ones he'd like to explain to Cassandra, at any rate. "Josephine said the second day was an exchange of personal tokens and that mine had to be overt. A public claim, she said."

Red crept into Dorian's cheeks and Cullen didn't mention it as he reveled in the appearance of a flustered and sleep rumpled Dorian. For all of last night sleeping in the same bed, this moment was far more intimate than that. Dorian fidgeted and looked across the room, his fingers still petting the fur around his throat.

"Consider it penance for saying it smelled like Mabari."

Dorian gave a short, startled laugh. "But you Southerns just make it so easy. Very well, it does not smell like Mabari. Happy now?"

"Thrilled."

Cassandra's stomping could be heard through the door and one floor up as she pounded on Cullen's office door. "I should go before Cassandra fractures the wood on my door."

"Commander," Dorian called after Cullen as he stepped past him. "Now that you've given me your not Mabari smelling cloak, I suppose I ought to give you something of mine. The second day calls for it, at least."

Honestly, Cullen hadn't even considered Dorian giving him something of his. He'd been so distracted with the bed and the cloak, Cullen had forgotten about Dorian's part in all of this. Well, that's not true. Cullen was incredibly aware of Dorian's part in this. Too aware of it, actually.

"Short of giving you my moustache, I have nothing so overt as your cloak, but," Dorian took one of the rings off his right hand. It was a gold snake that wrapped around the finger twice with a small black jewel for its eye and a larger green jewel in between its open mouth, held by fangs. "This should do. Not too many people in Skyhold with snakes on anything. Too Vint-y." Dorian wasn't looking at Cullen again, and Cullen got the distinct impression that Dorian wasn't telling him everything. "There's a small protection charm on the green stone. A rather insignificant one I made as a child, but if it bothers you, I can remove it. Not quite sure how an ex-Templar would feel with a Tevinter spell on him all day."

"It's fine," Cullen said, barely hearing himself as Cassandra threw open the door on the first floor. "Thank you," Cullen said as he climbed down the ladder, unable to hear or see Dorian's response as Cassandra pushed him out onto the ramparts.

Cullen was worthless through training. Someone bashed someone else in the face with a shield hard enough to make both men bleed and Cullen wasn't sure how that was physically possible, but all he said to the men was "Good job."

Cassandra sent them to the infirmary.

He walked between lines of men and didn't correct them on stances or positions. No, Cullen stared into the distance, his left hand playing with the snake ring on the middle finger of his right hand. It had originally been too small to fit on Cullen's finger, but the metal expanded and curled around Cullen's finger like a true snake would. It was too much to ask for Dorian to have regular jewelry.

There was a spell on there, something Cullen's Templar training allowed him to notice, but he couldn't say what it was exactly. He could press a finger against the green gem and the feeling would intensify, but it was only a feeling of comfort. No hint what the spell had actually intended to do. It cast no visible barrier, like many of the barrier spells he had seen in the Circle.

Cullen didn't see Dorian on the training grounds at all that morning. If he and his mother went to spar, then it must have been wherever the mages trained. That didn't stop Cullen from looking up every time he saw a flash of black and red though. The idea that Dorian was walking around in his cloak filled Cullen with a strange satisfied possessiveness he had to remind himself was unjustified. Dorian was not his. Even if they were together, Dorian would always only belong to himself and maybe literature. The library held more of a claim to Dorian's heart than Cullen did.

"Ser," a recruit came up to Cullen, bowing before the Commander. Lavellan's own messenger, not that every messenger in Skyhold wouldn't be Lavellan's own if she asked them. "The Inquisitor requests your presence for a war room council."

Cullen looked to Cassandra, who waved him off. "Go. Perhaps you'll be useful there."

Cullen followed the messenger to the main hall, startled when Lavellan came up beside him to take his arm as she led him to the war room.

"This isn't a council, is it?"

"Nope," Lavellan said brightly as she pushed open Josephine's door and pulled Cullen through it.

"You're going to interrogate me."

"Well, not me specifically. It's a group effort, you see. Besides, I saw you on the training grounds. While I can't condone two men going to the infirmary, your lack of reaction made my day so much brighter. Even with all the paperwork Josephine is pawning off on me." Lavellan walked into the war room where the other two women were already stationed. Josephine had a smile on her face she attempted to cover with her hand while Leliana didn't even bother to hide her grin.

"Commander," the Spymaster said. "Interesting ring you've got."

"Yes, yes, we exchanged tokens."

"I know!" Lavellan danced around Cullen, pulling at his right hand to examine his ring. Dorian's ring. She had been restraining herself in public, it seemed. "Have you seen Dorian? He's preening! Oh, he's not saying anything to anyone, of course, but he's got that same expression you had on your face at the training grounds." Lavellan imitated Cullen's earlier unseeing gaze and sighed dramatically with her hand over her heart. "Like two lovers who haven't grown into their ears yet. Did you have sex with him?"

"What?!" Cullen shouted as the other two advisors howled with laughter. Lavellan, the Inquisitor, perhaps the single most powerful person in all of Thedas, was asking if he had bedded Dorian after one night. "Of course not!"

Lavellan looked legitimately baffled. "Then why did he move in?"

"Because that is the first day and his mother so kindly woke us up to ensure we followed it."

"So you just what? Slept?"

"Yes," Cullen snapped. "It's typically what people do in bed."

Lavellan mumbled something under her breath in Elvish and shook her head at Cullen. "Then I have no questions."

"Surely you didn't think they would sleep together so soon!" Josephine asked through her laughter. "No, the first time you have sex with the person you love must be absolutely perfect. At the very least, Cullen should wait until Dorian knows of his affections."

"I agree. Dorian comes from a place that does not look kindly on the nobility taking on lovers of the same sex. I would tread carefully, Commander, if you want Dorian to think this is more than a tryst."

"Thank you, ladies, for your unwanted and unasked for advice. If I may...?" Cullen nodded towards the door and bowed as he turned heel.

"Actually," Josephine's voice came from Cullen's side. She darted in front of the door, her arms outstretched as if to bar passage. "We wanted to know what your answer for day three will be."

"Enlighten me as to day three, Ambassador."

"Well, you made your claim known to each other by pushing the beds together. Day two you made the public aware of your claim. Day three is informing your partner on any threats a claim on you may have."

Cullen waited for Josephine to expand on her words, glaring at her all the while. The Ambassador may be much smaller than Cullen, but she was an effective barrier at keeping Cullen in the room.

"She means you have to tell Dorian if there's anyone who could threaten his claim on you. Scorned lovers, current interested parties, or your more recent lover." Leliana came to stand next to Josephine, her arms crossed as she gave Cullen a small smile. "Or lack of lovers."

It was only with a sharp bite to his inner cheek that Cullen didn't laugh. "You want me to tell you if the rumors of the Ferelden Lion being untouched are true?" Cullen had no idea where that nickname had sprung up, but it was almost always in reference to his supposed purity.

"You were a Templar, after all," Josephine said. "It would make sense."

"It would. Now, my dear ladies, if I may pass." Though gossip did not interest Cullen in the least, he was smug in the idea that he had a secret that not even the Spymaster knew. Especially that the Spymaster didn't know.

"Come on, Commander! You have to tell Dorian tomorrow, and typically it is customary to invite the rivals to the courting couple's house to settle the matter. I would need to know to arrange for passage if there's anyone who need come to Skyhold."

"Dorian's just going to tell me tomorrow," Lavellan pointed out. It was true. Dorian and Lavellan were practically joined at the hip into a strange friendship that many disapproved of. If anyone told the Inquisitor a secret, Dorian was bound to find out.

But this one Cullen wouldn't mind Dorian telling, as long as Cullen himself didn't have to tell it. "I'm sure he will, Inquisitor. Again, may I pass, ladies?"

"You can't leave until you tell us." Josephine crossed her arms and lifted her chin in the same stance she took with unruly nobles.

"I hope you have time to spare then." With a smirk, Cullen turned back to the war table and began to talk strategy. Where to place who and what potential consequences could come up.

Leliana and Lavellan were willing to put up with it for two hours, hoping that the Commander was merely bluffing. When Cullen began to talk of Antivan politics and the ramifications of assisting a former Crow, they realized that Cullen was willing to stay in that room and discuss strategy all day and well into the night.

Josephine stayed much later partly because she was just as stubborn and partly because she enjoyed talking politics. Once Cullen switched to battlefield tactics on the off chance that Minrathous may send their Juggernauts, Josephine had to admit defeat.

"Why go to all this trouble when we're just going to find out tomorrow, Commander?"

"Because I find it amusing watching the lot of you struggle with gossip you're not privy to. It's novel being the only one to know something."

Josephine clicked her tongue against her teeth. "I hope it was worth the whole of the day."

It was. Despite Cullen's many ramblings, he had a few great ideas for how to move his troops to minimize the causalities and mentally noted to bring it up in the next true war room meeting.

Josephine and he parted ways at the great hall as the Ambassador acted as if she were headed to the library. The sun had set hours ago, though, and Cullen knew that Josephine had become something of a celebrity at the nightly Wicked Grace games. Her tells may not exist, but her lying could use some work.

The walk to Cullen's tower was awkward. The soldiers on the ramparts tried valiantly to hide their smiles and sly looks, but it wasn't working. By the time Cullen reached his door, he had already prepared his retribution in the form of more than a few surprise drills. Maybe even a test of sorts. A forced bit of sparring with Cassandra and Cullen ought to wipe those looks from their faces.

Dorian was already in bed asleep, though it didn't seem as if intended to fall asleep. He was propped up against the pillows in a sitting position with an open book draped across his lap. Theriam and Iseult. The book's spine was scratched and the cover worn from overuse. Strange considering the other books Dorian brought with him were pristine and the man had a reputation of being overly protective of the books in the library. Cullen had had more than a handful of recruits ask to borrow a book from him when he knew perfectly well there was a copy in the library. The story was that someone returned a book to Dorian with a patch of ale spilled on the cover and Dorian placed some evil Tevinter curse on him. What the curse did changed depending on who you asked, of course.

Cullen pried the book off of Dorian's lap, watching the man's facial expressions for any sign he may awaken. Cullen didn't need to worry though. Dorian didn't stir the entire time Cullen got dressed and slid into bed.

Dorian's normally decorated and adorned fingers were bare. The numerous rings he wore were meticulously arranged on the bedside table. Cullen had never worn jewelry of any sort. No point to it when Cullen had until recently been decked head to toe in plate armor. So he thought he really should follow Dorian's lead and take the snake ring off his own finger.

Instead, he pressed his thumb against the large green stone and let the feeling of comfort lull him into a pleasant sleep.

Chapter Text

"Surana?! Selene Surana?" Dorian was shouting at Cullen to the Commander's infinite amusement. "The Hero of Ferelden?"

"We were at the Circle together," Cullen said by way of explanation. Dorian and he had broken away earlier that morning but agreed to take lunch in Cullen's office to discuss the third day's obligation away from eavesdroppers and prying eyes. Cullen came back bruised, but it was worth it to see the recruits look at him with awe and fear yet again. They should think twice before snickering at him, at least.

Cullen had no idea where Dorian was the entire morning. Judging by the fact that Lucretia came to the training grounds that morning to inquire of his whereabouts, Cullen would guess he was hiding from his mother. A fact that Cullen couldn't exactly fault Dorian for.

Cullen played with the ring on his finger all during the morning. He would be self conscious about it if he didn't see Dorian's hands stray to the fur at his shoulders more often than not. Dorian didn't seem to notice he did it, which contributed all the more to Cullen's elation.

All Cullen had to do was make sure that Dorian wore that cloak for much longer than thirty days.

"Yes, but I thought Southern Templars took a very strict 'No touching the prisoner mages' vow." Dorian stalked to the desk and sat on its sturdy frame in front of Cullen's chair. He looked scandalized on Cullen's behalf, but perhaps also a little impressed. "And you're telling me that Cullen Stanton Rutherford, the most Templar-y ex-Templar, broke those vows while still in the Circle? Did you court her? Bed her? Tell me you bedded her."

There was a glint of light along the upper wall that caught Cullen's attention. He thought maybe it came off of one of Dorian's adornments from his robe, but the angle didn't match. It looked like it came from somewhere up the ladder.

Cullen looked back to Dorian, who waited expectantly on Cullen's response. "We courted for two years, but yes, eventually we laid together."

"The Hero of fucking Ferelden." Dorian's grin grew wider and his gray eyes danced in unabashed mirth. "Be still my beating heart but you are a man of hidden depths, Commander. You're quite sure you're not a desire demon come to snare me?"

Cullen couldn't help but wince at the comment, which Dorian saw. "Ah, apologies. That joke was in terribly poor taste. But you must tell me everything! Does anyone else know? Does Varric know? No, don't answer that, it would be a book already. What was she like? Have you not had sex for a decade, then? Oh, you poor man. We should rectify that particular misstep as soon as we are able."

"Dorian." Cullen shook his head in amusement. Present the mage with new information and of course he wanted to dissect it from every possible angle. "I've told you mine. You must have more potential disputes than my one."

Dorian waved off the statement with one of his highly decorated hands. "But none so intriguing as the Gray Warden who stopped the Fifth Blight. Is she coming to Skyhold? It's customary, you know."

"I'll tell you if you tell me."

Dorian huffed, but curiosity would always get the better of him. "Fine, fine. A man named Rilienus whom I left in Minrathous. Now onto my questions."

"Is he coming to Skyhold?"

Dorian gave a soft snort and leaned forward, bracing his hands against the edge of the desk. It was the first time that Cullen noticed how close they had gotten. Their knees brushed up against one another and all Cullen had to do was reach forward and pull the mage a few more inches towards him and Dorian would be straddling his lap.

Those thoughts were better saved for a day that Cullen could actually do something about it. If that day existed.

"Maker above, no," Dorian said. "He's a Magister now and well on his way to betrothal. Relationships between men were not public knowledge in Tevinter either, so my parents are unaware of his existence. I would prefer to keep it that way. If they ask you about any past paramours, and they will, say I've never had anything more than a fumble with anyone. If it's my father who asks, be creative in your response. The more vulgar the better and include his bed if possible."

Not his desk? Cullen wanted to ask, but feared that may reveal his mind at that moment. For all Dorian's nonchalance, he was easily the most perceptive member of the Inquisition save Leliana.

"Were you together long?"

Dorian tsked and leaned further into Cullen's space, eyes glinting in the low sunlight. So Cullen acted like a jealous lover. To be fair, Dorian had started it by asking about Selene. They both acted as if the claims they had on one another were legitimate. "Commander, it's hardly fair for me to answer your questions when you won't answer mine."

Cullen swallowed a phantom lump in his throat. "An answer for an answer. No one knows about Selene and I except you and Selene's lover."

"Exclusive company. I'm flattered, but I assume that means you don't want me to tell anyone?"

"Not yet. Selene and Zevran were on their way to Skyhold weeks ago and should be here any day."

Dorian could have been given the entire library of Orlais and he wouldn't have looked as excited as he did at the news of Selene coming to Skyhold. "The Warden is coming to Skyhold? How is this the first I'm hearing of this? Josephine should be running about screaming at the soldiers this very moment. Sera needs to be kicked out, at minimum."

"No one knows. Selene and I picked up correspondence when I was in Kirkwall. So far as anyone is aware, no one in the Inquisition knows where the Hero is."

"You knew," Dorian hissed out in a whisper. "Oh, Cassandra was going to kill Varric, I heard, when he revealed Hawke. And all this while, the Commander of the Inquisition knew exactly where to find the Hero of Ferelden."

"Not exactly," Cullen protested. "I knew she and Zevran were off trying to find a way to combat The Calling. Like Varric, I was trying to protect a friend who's given enough to Thedas."

"I must tell Lavellan. She will be amused beyond belief. Oh! This is the best news I've heard since coming to the South. If I'd a diary, I would be writing in it with bold letters and a frantic hand. Perhaps I should get a diary just for this occasion...."

"Instead of telling Lavellan," Cullen said. He twisted the ring on his finger, running the pad of his thumb against the green stone and effectively drew Dorian's eyes down to his hands. Dorian's amusement shifted on his face. Those lips still held a smile, though it wasn't as genuine as it had been moments ago, and Dorian's gray eyes softened. It was the blush on those cheekbones as Dorian unknowingly bit at his lower lip that Cullen scrutinized.

There had to be something there, Cullen thought. He couldn't be the only one holding affections for the other. Not with Dorian draped in his cloak, sitting on his desk close enough to Cullen to be indecent, and biting at his lips like he wanted to devour the Commander. Which worked just fine for Cullen.

"Instead," Cullen continued. "The ladies are expecting you to tell Lavellan. Sure of it. Might be fun to...disappoint them."

Dorian's eyes flicked back up to Cullen's and his expression had schooled itself in that small blink. How much practice Dorian must have at shielding his emotions from the world. Then again, Dorian was a creature of a Game far more sinister than any played in Orlais.

The mage must have seen something on Cullen's face or realized how close he had gotten because he abruptly pulled out of Cullen's space. Dorian smoothed out his outfit as he stood and placed the desk in between he and Cullen once more.

The lunch bell rang twice to signal an end to the lunch hour, interrupting whatever Dorian was about to say. Dorian cast a smile to Cullen as he sauntered out of the office. "See you at chess, Commander."

Progress, Cullen thought. Slow progress, but Leliana was right about proceeding cautiously with Dorian. As many sexual partners as Dorian has had--and Cullen knows about them because he's been in the tavern while the Bull and Dorian talk--Dorian only mentioned one serious partner. It didn't look like he particularly wanted to discuss this Rilienus either.

Which begged the question of what happened between him and Rilienus. Dorian said "left," so did Dorian call off the relationship?

Cullen waited a few minutes longer, staring at the door Dorian went through before he picked up a small rock he used as a paperweight from his desk. He tossed it in between his hands a few times before chucking it onto the second floor and somewhere hopefully near his bed.

His aim struck true as a feminine 'Ow' came from the second floor and a masculine laugh followed shortly after. "How in Andraste's name did you get into Skyhold?" Cullen shouted.

"How did you know I was here?" Selene's voice called as she poked her head over the floor of the second floor. Another head joined hers, this of an Antivan elf who bore tattoos on the side of his face.

Cullen pointed to the high wall opposite Selene, to the reflection of what Cullen could now tell was the head of a staff. "You've always liked shiny things."

"He has you there, my dear Gray Warden."

"That doesn't answer how you got into Skyhold."

"I suppose it doesn't," Selene answered with a grin as she turned in one movement to slide down Cullen's ladder. "But we've been here a few days. There's this darling little basement that's more spiderwebs than anything where someone's keeping the good booze."

Zevran appeared at Selene's side as if he sprouted from the shadows. "We wanted to make sure it was not poison. I believe we did your Inquisition a favor, yes?"

Cullen placed his head in his hands. "Please tell me you did not drink all of the Inquisitor's alcohol."

"No, but there is a spot for Antivan brandy that is empty. It may look as if it had been filled at one point, but it's just a trick of the light, Cullen." Selene gave Cullen a small smile, which he returned. It had been too long since he last saw Selene and he was not the most pleasant man to be around at the time. Granted, he had not had the most pleasant time in Kinloch hold. But Selene looked exactly as he remembered, as if ten years hadn't passed and she hadn't helped in the slaying of an Archdemon.

Selene broke away from Zevran and ran to Cullen to hug him hard around the waist. They were a reminder to each other, Cullen thought, of a time far less complicated. "I would have left Ferelden sooner if I knew it would get you to style your hair."

Cullen laughed and returned the hug as good as he got. "I left the curls with the Templars, as well as a few other things."

"Like your hatred for mages and fondness for women?" Selene asked with a glint in her eyes not unlike Dorian's. "Really, Cullen? A male Tevinter Magister? Andraste has a wonderful sense of humor, it seems."

"He's an Altus, not a Magister," Cullen sighed. "And he'll tell you if you make the mistake of calling him a Magister. Also, it's not what it looks like."

"Mm," Zevran smirked from behind Selene. "It looked like we were about to have the most wonderful of introductions. I do so love to meet people when they're in the middle of the throes of passion. A marvelous first impression."

Cullen blushed furiously because that was most certainly not what they were about to do. The blushing accompanied a sense of foreboding as Cullen imagined Dorian and Zevran meeting one another.

He felt a headache building already.

"Be nice, Zev," Selene warned. "And yes, we're aware of the fake courtship, Cullen. But back to the matters at hand, want to help me scare Leliana?"

"It would be my absolute pleasure."

Dorian made it to the garden before Cullen. He sat at the chess table when Cullen made his way down from his quarters. The mage leaned back against the chair, eyes focused on the board in front of him as his fingers idly drew patterns in the air. A few of the patterns glowed in the air before disappearing, spells cast so easily and so blatantly. He traced another glyph onto the chessboard before returning his hands to their new customary place; Cullen's cloak.

He looked up in Cullen's direction and smiled at the Commander as he waved him over. "I was worried you may not show, Commander."

"Had to take care of something. Are you well, Dorian?" Cullen motioned to Dorian's restless hands.

Dorian cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at Cullen before smiling without it reaching his eyes. "Marvelous. I may not be in a few minutes when Lavellan finds me but for now, I'm fine."

"Lavellan?"

Dorian hummed in his throat, moustache quirking up in a flicker of a smile. "She was less than amused when I told her I would not reveal your former lover. I made a rather ingenious escape, if I do say so myself."

"Dorian Renatus Augustine Pavus!" Lavellan's voice shouted as she came barreling down the stone steps. Dorian dashed around Cullen in a smooth motion he made look graceful and not at all like the hasty retreat it was.

"What was all that?" Cullen asked through a laugh. "You mocked me for Stanton!"

"Yes, yes, mock me later and protect me from the murderous elf now?"

"Of course," Cullen said and filed the name away for later use.

"And you, Cullen Stanton Rutherford!" Lavellan said when she got closer to Cullen. She didn't look truly angry, just a bit irritated that her plan in finding out Cullen's secrets had been thwarted. "I know you're behind Dorian's suddenly tight lips. We're supposed to be friends, Dorian!" Lavellan's voice turned into a whine as she tried to reach for the mage who darted around Cullen and out of her reach.

"The Commander told me that in the utmost confidence, Lavellan."

Cullen thought it was a bit unfair that Dorian used Lavellan's name and still refused to call Cullen anything other than his title.

"That's never stopped us before! Mother Giselle told me your father was on his way in the utmost confidence. Solas told you about his paint problem in the utmost confidence. Everyone knows we tell everyone everything!"

"Inquisitor," Cullen said. He stood from his seat to Dorian's protests, allowing Lavellan to tackle the Tevinter to the ground and sit on his chest.

"Tell me, Dorian!"

"If one speck of dirt gets on my robe Lavellan, Corypheus will be the least of your worries."

"Tell me or I'll tell Cullen what you told me last month."

"Mm, but do that, my dear Inquisitor, and I tell the Bull exactly what you think of him when he fells a dragon."

Lavellan gave a mock gasp and Cullen realized that the two of them didn't mean one another harm in any way. The threats were completely idle and the two seemed to enjoy making them. Not that he wasn't curious about what Dorian said last month now. "I told you that in confidence, Magister."

"I've recently been told that being told things in confidence doesn't mean anything, elf."

"Inquisitor!" Cullen shouted. The mage and rogue fixed their gazes back to Cullen. Lavellan was one of the most powerful people in all of Thedas and she pouted while sitting atop one of the most powerful mages in all of Thedas, who worried about getting dirt on his robe.

Behold, Cullen thought, the Inquisition. He didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

"I've asked Dorian to keep it a secret for now. It's not his fault so if you would kindly get off him."

Instead, Lavellan moved from a seated position on Dorian to lying atop him, moving upwards to place her forehead on his. She practically flopped on him and let her weight--which wasn't much--pin down the larger mage. "But Dorian," she whined amidst Dorian's stream of probably some very creative Tevene cursing.

"Lavellan. I need Dorian to complete today's obligation." That was a terrible lie. Luckily, Lavellan was just as terrible at lying as Cullen and assumed the world was an honest place. It would not be a warm wake-up call when they went to Halamshiral in a couple of weeks. "Then you may lie on Dorian all you want."

"Your sympathy is astounding, Commander."

"I'm going to find out," Lavellan warned both men as she slowly rose off Dorian. "One way or another."

"Yes, yes, you're the fearsome Inquisitor who now owes me a trip to Val Royeaux for a new robe."

Lavellan rolled her eyes and turned on her heel to walk back to the great hall. "I owe you nothing."

Dorian stood up from his spot on the ground and shook off his robe with a frown. "I knew I shouldn't have worn white today," Dorian mumbled. "Hadn't imagined an elf tackling me to the ground, but I knew as soon as I put this on. I said 'Dorian, something is going to ruin this robe today.'"

"My cloak took the brunt of it."

"That it did. Now it's a not Mabari smelling cloak along with endlessly dirty. Would you mind terribly if I had it cleaned?" Cullen just shrugged to Dorian, which he took as an acquiescence if Dorian's smile was anything to go by. "Wonderful. Now, tell me why you felt the need to lie to our esteemed Inquisitor."

"Walk with me, Dorian Renatus Augustine Pavus?" Cullen asked with a smile.

Dorian groaned but followed behind Cullen. "Fasta vass. Would it be too much to ask you to forget that?"

"It would, actually."

Cullen led Dorian through the great hall from the garden, ignoring the large grin Varric shot them from across the hall. There would be a day soon that Cullen and Dorian would need to speak to the inner circle about the entire false courtship, but it was not today. Nor tomorrow. Nor any day when they weren't forcibly dragged into it. Lavellan had described it to them all in the Herald's Rest and that would do for now.

It didn't make Cullen feel better when he saw Varric dissecting their every move in what was sure to be a new book. What had Dorian said? 'Fasta vass?' Cullen wasn't sure what it meant, but he felt it rather fit the situation.

The nobles in the room whispered at their passing, but it wasn't the fact that they looked like they were courting. No, there was too much space in between them to confuse them for lovers. Rather, it seemed like the whispering focused on Dorian and his status as a Tevinter. From Dorian's lack of reaction, this didn't seem to be new.

Cullen ushered Dorian into a relatively unused door that led to a vast room lined in columns and candlelight. It may have once been a church of some sort, though the shrine of Andraste was down in the courtyard.

"Have you brought me here to kill me, Commander?" Dorian asked. "This chamber does scream 'murder,' don't you think?"

"I'm not going to murder you, Dorian."

"If you were, this is where I would do it. Is anyone aware this room is here?"

"Some stowaways found it," Cullen said with a smile as he pushed open an adjoining door. Selene and Zevran sat in the room on large upholstered highback chairs that couldn't have been there when Selene arrived. How they managed to get into Skyhold and move furniture without anyone--Leliana--knowing was a secret Selene would die with. "Dorian, this is Selene Surana, the Hero of Ferelden and her partner, Zevran Arainai"

If Dorian was surprised at seeing Selene and Zevran, he didn't show it. He bowed low to the pair and took Selene's hand to kiss her knuckles. "It is an honor to meet you, milady. Our dear Commander said you would not be arriving for a few days."

"He didn't know," Selene replied. She beamed at Cullen over Dorian's bowed head in approval, mouthing 'I like him.' "We've been hiding away. I haven't seen Leliana in a decade and I wanted to scare her."

Dorian laughed as he straightened himself. "Telling her you snuck into Skyhold may be enough. Have you considered recruiting the help of the Lady Ambassador?"

"Recruited Cullen. Zev and I can't decide how we want to do it though. I wanted to wait in the war room for her, but then maybe her bedroom would be more appropriate."

"Ah, well, I wish you well. That you've been here without her knowing is an accomplishment in and of itself. That you've found decent booze even more so," Dorian said as he pointed to the wall of bottles.

Cullen would have to tell Lavellan to move the alcohol. Dorian alone would wipe the entire stock from the shelves.

"A beautiful man as well as a lover of fine spirits?" Zevran asked as he stepped forward and kissed Dorian's knuckles. "Such fine specimens of beauty in this Inquisition. We should have come sooner."

"You'll find I'm the finest, but there are a few close seconds," Dorian said, throwing his gaze over his shoulder to smile at Cullen. "I knew the Antivan Crows were meant to be attractive, but it's rather obscene how little they do you justice."

Zevran grinned with a good amount of teeth at Dorian. "You flatter me but yes, we are a rather beauteous lot."

"Your tattoo, in particular, is rather magnificent. Almost like Lavellan's vallaslin, but not quite."

"Fond of tattoos?" Zevran asked. He hadn't released Dorian's hand and it looked like Dorian didn't mind so much. At least, he never pulled his hand back. "You should get one. There is an entire ritual we must do to prepare you for one. First I would need to bathe you in a mixture of olives and rosewater. The massage is quite pleasurable, do not worry. You are in good hands."

"Your ritual sounds far more luxurious than the one I went through. But one tattoo is enough for me."

"You have a tattoo?" Cullen asked. Dorian seemed at once to be the type to have one and also the type to never get one. He was rebellious enough for one, that was hard to deny, but he also seemed too fastidious for one.

"You must show me," Zevran replied.

Dorian pulled his hand from Zevran's then, flashing a feline smile to both men in front of him. "I'm afraid it's not meant for public eyes. And we are rather ignoring the lovely Selene whom I've heard has met Brother Genitivi! You simply must tell me all about him."

Selene's eyes lit up as she began a speech of Andraste's Ashes and magical theory as it relates to faith. Cullen tuned them out to thoughts of where, exactly, Dorian's tattoo may be. Those thoughts were accompanied with pangs of jealousy. Dorian allowed Zevran to hold his hand and clearly had no problem referring to Selene by her given name.

"You look deep in thought, my friend," Zevran said to Cullen's side. He kept his voice low, but they weren't likely to be overheard as the two mages were deep in conversation.

The jealousy must be apparent on Cullen's face and he only hoped that Zevran wouldn't pick up on it. "Nothing. It's been too long since I've seen Selene."

"Ah." The two men stood next to one another and watched their partners speak about what they loved. Despite Cullen's upbringing in the Circle, he understood very little of magic. He heard Solas, Vivienne, and Dorian speak of it occasionally, but magical theory went completely over his head.

"You know," Zevran continued. "There is an old saying in Antiva. It goes 'All dragons were snakes once.'" Zevran didn't elaborate as he pulled a bottle from the wall and popped the cork off using a small dagger. "It is interesting to think about, no?"

Cullen furrowed his eyebrows but didn't ask. Instead he smiled and said farewell to the room, certain that no one but Zevran noticed.

"Selene and I are having babies," Dorian said as Cullen climbed up the ladder to their makeshift bedroom. The book in Dorian's hands was in much better shape than Theriam and Iseult from the night before. The title was written in gold script in Tevene and Cullen could make out the word 'The' and little else. "Her and Zevran are together, of course, but we owe it to Thedas, honestly. Our children would be beautiful and brilliant."

Of that, Cullen had no doubt. If only Selene weren't completely devoted to Zevran and vice versa. There was also the fact that Dorian wanted nothing to do romantically or sexually with a member of the fairer sex. "Are you really?"

"There are logistics to consider, but yes. My father will be beyond overjoyed." Dorian lowered his book and stared at the dresser directly in front of him. Cullen took off his armor, setting it on the nearby chair. "On second thought, no. There's no room in this bed for Selene and Zevran, regardless."

"You've thought this through."

"To a certain extent. I am missing one important piece of my fantasy." Dorian smirked at Cullen as he set down his book. "How was the sex with her, Commander? She's much smal-"

"Dorian."

"You're never going to let me have any fun in this bedroom."

Cullen rolled his eyes and motioned for Dorian to turn so he could change. "Your parents weren't around today."

"You noticed that too. My father accosted me earlier in the day and demanded I stop this farce. Again. He also demanded that Lavellan tell him our potential disputers. Vivienne overheard apparently and I doubt my father would risk the Lady of Iron's anger again."

That was a scene Cullen wished to see. He would need to ask Varric about it. Chances are the dwarf has already spun it into a tale worthy of kings though. That's how Varric described it at least. It sounded more like lying to Cullen.

"Will he check in tomorrow?" Cullen asked. "What is tomorrow?"

"The next few days revolve around favorites, my dear Commander. Food, hobbies, places, sexual positions. Those sort of things."

Cullen really hoped one of those things was a joke.

Chapter Text

"How you boys get anything done is beyond me," Lucretia said as she nudged the mattress with her staff. Cullen groaned and rolled over, trying to pull the sheet over his head but Dorian had it gripped in his fingers like a dragon and its treasures. "You would think men in such high positions would take their job more seriously."

"Share the blanket," Cullen grumbled as he pulled harder on the duvet. He had never taken much stock in the idea that blankets could protect him from the monsters that lurked in the dark but at this point, he was willing to do whatever it took. Why were people so against him sleeping?

"You share the blanket," Dorian retorted, a clear lack of wit unlike most of his awake comebacks. He loosened his hold enough for Cullen to shuffle under and hide in the warm cocoon Dorian had built. "Has she left yet?" Dorian mumbled. Cullen blearily opened his eyes and looked at his bed partner. It was too dark to tell most of the specifics, but Cullen could see that Dorian had curled in on himself with one hand buried underneath a pillow and another running through his hair.

"If we're quiet she might."

"Excuse me!" That was a no, then. There was a large amount of huffing from beyond the blanket but Cullen fell in and out of sleep enough that he ignored most of it. "I just came to tell you that Halward and I will be joining you for dinner tonight."

The well-built cocoon fell down around Cullen as Dorian sprang into alertness and leapt from the bed. How Dorian managed to be asleep one second and on his feet the next was bewildering. Mostly, Cullen mourned the loss of his warm cocoon.

"Absolutely not," Dorian said. Cullen shuffled a bit to sit up and watch the disheveled mage take on the pristine one. One should be in his bed at the moment and another should be in her bed in Tevinter. Which meant that the rumpled mage would not be in his bed....Not that Cullen wouldn't have eventually asked to court Dorian.

He would have.

One day.

"The fourth day calls for food, Dorian. I saw to your first and second day but allowed you privacy on the third out of the good-"

"You've no business spying on-"

"Out of the kindness of my heart!" Lucretia shouted over Dorian. "But if you want your father convinced of this courtship then steps must be taken."

"I'm in the Commander's bed. I'm wearing his token. What more could father possibly want?" Dorian hissed. How in Thedas were these people this energetic this early? Was this also a Tevinter thing? Lavellan could have run in at that moment to shout Corypheus surrendered in the courtyard and Cullen would still need his few minutes to fully awaken. "Would he like to watch us have sex and dishonor the Pavus name?"

"The entire thirty steps, Dorian." Lucretia sighed and tossed her head in the same dramatic fashion that Cullen had occasionally seen Dorian use. "If you do not wish to stay here with your Commander, then by all means allow us to pack and leave. Maker knows this place is too cold as it is. A summer in Minrathous would do you good."

Dorian straightened himself and brought his chin up, attempting to look like the future Magister he was always meant to be. It was ruined by the mussed hair and sleep clothes, but he still managed to appear regal enough. Dorian's hands clenched at his sides as he attempted to reign himself in. "Very well, mother." Dorian held his jaw with enough tension to crack a few teeth. "Meet us in the Commander's office at the dinner bell."

"Josie gets to come, though," Cullen said. Maker help him if he were left alone in the room with the three Vints. Technically, it was an international affair and Josephine was supposed to be present at all dignitaries' dinners. He'd owe her for the trouble later, but it would provide her with a bit of gossip. "The Ambassador would be most put out if she weren't allowed to attend."

"This is a family dinner, Ser Rutherford," Lucretia ground out. Dorian, on the other hand, looked to Cullen like he was the most brilliant man in all of existence.

"The Lady Ambassador will come as well. As father so loved to make this a legal dispute, she will be a witness on our behalf. Now leave mother, unless you wish to watch me ravish the Commander."

Lucretia glared at her son and Cullen before turning and climbing down the ladder. She slammed the door on her way out, just for good measure.

"You're not going to ravish me, are you?" Cullen asked as Dorian slumped back into bed with a groan.

"No, but wouldn't it be fun?"

Cullen thanked everything that it was dark enough that Dorian couldn't see him blush or bite at his bottom lip.

Josephine seemed overjoyed at the idea of spending dinner with Cullen, Dorian, and his parents. "Dorian speaks of politics so little unless it's gossip. To speak to two Magisters about Thedas politics would be incredibly interesting, Commander."

Cullen was glad someone looked forward to that night. The fourth day called for sharing favorite food with one another. Cullen's mind had blanked on anything that wasn't terribly Fereldan. His fears were assuaged a bit when Dorian insisted he choose something Fereldan. "I need to see the look on their faces, Commander. Don't rob me of that."

It's how the Commander of the Inquisition found himself in the hold's kitchen trying valiantly to think of something to make. He didn't want to bother the chef and growing up on a farm had left him with a few cooking skills. His sister and brother had cooked far more than he ever did, but he was forced to help every once in awhile when he was younger.

It took two hours, his armor was caked in flour, and he would have to ask Dorian how to get dough out of his ring, but he finished with time to spare. At least, enough time to place his food to the side in his office, get dressed, and walk back over to Josephine's office.

Lavellan was waiting with Josephine in her office, grinning widely at the cleaned up Commander. "Dorian told me we are having a family dinner!" Lavellan exclaimed as she spread her arms wide. Josephine giggled behind her hand before taking Cullen's arm. Both women looked exquisite in their wardrobe choices. Lavellan was dressed in a light green dress that lacked shoes and practically screamed out Lavellan's Dalish heritage. The Ambassador was dressed in gold, red, and black silks to draw attention to her Antivan heritage.

The dinner didn't seem so daunting with Lavellan and Josephine. Not when he had women of such high caliber and strength staunchly in his corner.

"Lavellan found out I was invited to dinner tonight," Josephine explained on the way back to Cullen's office, Lavellan trailing behind them. "She insisted that Dorian and you are her family and that if you were having a family dinner, she simply must be invited. I think Master Pavus was too taken aback to deny her."

"Also, it gives me practice smiling to people I hate like I'll have to do in Orlais. Which Josephine insists we must come in peace when I think a fireball to the Winter Palace will do." Josephine rolled her eyes fondly but kept silent on the matter as they walked to Cullen's office.

Some soldiers had moved a dining table large enough for ten into Cullen's office. It already bore a cloth and six dinner plates, along with utensils that Cullen had only ever seen in the one or two balls he was dragged to in Kirkwall. There was a large covered dish in the middle of the table that Cullen assumed was Dorian's dish.

"Ah. Good. You're here," Dorian said from his place in Cullen's armchair. "My parents will be here any moment." Dorian grabbed Lavellan's arm and placed her at one head of the table, pushing the protesting elf into the chair. Next, he grabbed Cullen's forearm and dragged him to the other end of the table so he and Lavellan faced one another. "Milady," he said sweetly to Josephine who gave a toothy smile and took her seat at Lavellan's left. Finally, Dorian sat down at the table in between Cullen and Josephine.

"Was that necessary?" Lavellan asked as she glared at the empty seat beside her. A sentiment Cullen mirrored. Though perhaps it would be worse to stare at one of the Magisters the entire meal. "I can seat myself."

"Yes but knowing you, you would sit where Josephine now sits and I cannot abide that, my dear Inquisitor."

"Does it really matter?"

"Of course!" Josephine exclaimed and was seconds away from explaining exactly how that was when Lucretia and Halward walked in. They took one look at the table and scowled. Whatever it meant, the seating arrangement Dorian placed them in, Cullen all of the sudden approved.

"I'm glad to see you have not started without us," Lucretia said as she took her seat next to Cullen, Halward beside her. "I was certain you would not allow us to dine with you."

"And miss spending such a marvelous night with my parents? Perish the thought!" Dorian exclaimed and quickly downed some of his wine. "Now whose dish should we serve first?"

"Mine's actually a dessert," Cullen said with a hand on the back of his neck. Was he supposed to choose a main dish?

"Wonderful!" Dorian grinned widely at Cullen and he couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing. Dorian would probably be just as happy with a terrible faux pas on Cullen's part. With a flourish only the mage could pull off, Dorian lifted the lid off the dish to reveal a small pieces of some sort of fish. They sat in a red sauce Cullen hadn't seen before, along with some greenery and olives. It filled the room with the scent of tomatoes, wine, some herbs, and a large amount of salt.

Halward and Lucretia glared at the dish and then to their son though Lucretia's eyes seemed to dance in some hidden amusement. Again, this was a political thing Cullen had no idea about and no true desire to understand.

"Aselli," Dorian told Cullen, ignoring the rest of the guests to fix his gaze back on the Commander. "Salted fish I grew quite fond of in my travel across Thedas."

Lavellan stood and looked into the dish with wide eyes. "Dorian, you are my absolute favorite. How did you get this ready so soon?"

"Hm? Oh, I enlisted the help of my parent's chef days ago. Shall we?" Dorian served everyone a piece of meat, smiling all while he did it. There was something terribly endearing about Dorian when he was smug in a victory, even a victory Cullen didn't understand.

The cod was decent. Cullen wasn't much of a fish man, preferring Druffalo meat to the texture of fish. Josephine and Dorian smiled into their glasses of wine the entirety of the meal. For his part, Cullen's mind flashed images of the upcoming ball at Halamshiral. This is exactly how it would be. Men and women of the court would share in an inside joke while Cullen simply sat or stood around and hoped he did not embarrass the Inquisition too much.

If his presence were not absolutely required--and he had been assured, multiple times, that it was--Cullen would simply refuse to go. The Commander had been raised on a farm and then as a Templar. He was not meant for the Winter Palace and had no desire to become a player of the Grand Game.

"So, Inquisitor," Lucretia said as the meal began to wind down. "You've ended up with a merry bunch to act as an army. Elves, dwarves, Quanari, mages, templars, Gray Wardens, even. How do you manage such a bunch?"

"I don't," Lavellan said with a smooth voice she and Josephine must have practiced together. "Commander Cullen takes care of the army. I fear I am away from Skyhold more often than not with my inner circle. While the breach is our main concern, there are smaller rifts that allow demons to pass through. We close them as we can."

"Inner circle?" Halward asked. The man had barely looked over to his son's direction, a fact that Dorian would have surely noted since Cullen had.

"The most capable of the soldiers, I suppose. Vivienne, who I believe you met, for example. Dorian too, of course. There's Cassandra Pentaghast who's a Seeker of Truth and Varric Tethras who you may know from his work with the Champion of Kirkwall. A small group works better as we move faster."

"So you're gone most of the time from Skyhold, Dorian?" Lucretia asked, and focused her attention back to her son who nodded. "If you're gone from the stronghold so much, how did you and Ser Rutherford become...close?"

"Chess, actually," Dorian replied as he refilled his wine glass. "The Commander was sitting at the chess table without an opponent and I volunteered. It became a daily routine of sorts."

It seemed like such a long time ago. Cullen had been ordered to take a walk in the gardens to deal with a withdrawal headache. They had lost a dozen recruits that day to his temper and Cassandra had barred him from the training grounds. He walked the garden for a full minute before deciding to find a seat. The fact that it was at the chess table had been completely lost on him until Dorian walked up and asked him if he played.

Cullen knew incredibly little about the Tevinter mage back then and had wanted to say no and resume his "walk." Despite himself, he said yes to Dorian's obvious delight. Cullen still was not sure why he had said yes. If he was forced to choose a reason, it would probably be because even he saw how wide a berth everyone except Lavellan gave the man.

Dorian had completely trounced the Commander that day. To Cullen's relief, the mage was content with Cullen's silence, deciding to fill it himself with grand stories of his travels and some that Cullen was certain were outright lies. By the time Dorian declared checkmate, Cullen's headache was diminished to a dull throb and his mood had improved tremendously. Without thought, Cullen demanded a rematch for the following day at the same time. Dorian's eyes filled with a suspicious gleam as if he were trying to figure out what Cullen wanted, but he agreed nonetheless.

When Cullen returned to training the next day Cassandra and Leliana both demanded he take a walk every day. It worked out well enough though Dorian later admitted that he believed Cullen was sent to spy on him for the longest time. For all Cullen knew, he might have been sent to do just that without knowing.

Weeks went by before Lavellan pulled Dorian away on a mission. The dull ache in Cullen's chest was the first indication he may be deep into a problem he didn't even realize he'd developed. An empty seat at a chess table should not have made him feel that way. A Tevinter not-Magister's absence should not have made him feel that way.

When Dorian had finally returned, Cullen's mood soared in a way that he couldn't hide from anyone. Cullen decided that same day to completely ignore his feelings for the mage until further notice. Or until he committed them both to a month long courting ceremony with one another.

"Chess?" Lucretia's voice snapped Cullen out of his nostalgia. "I didn't know you played, Dorian."

"He cheats more than he plays," Cullen said before Dorian could get a word in.

Dorian gave a mock gasp as he turned to Cullen and clutched at his heart. "I would never."

"So my Divine moved itself one space over?"

"Your Divine was there the entire time if I recall, Commander."

"You make up most of your rules."

"En passant is a legitimate move in chess, especially in Orlais, and the Ferelden should know that, not the Vint."

"The Ferelden would know it were it an actual rule, not just one the Vint made up."

"What happened to losing with grace, Commander?" Dorian asked with a grin.

Lavellan giggled from the other end of the table and Cullen realized that all three women were looking at he and Dorian with unabashed amusement. Halward finally looked at his son but it was with something like a slow dawning anger. "If you two are done," Lavellan said in her typical mischievous tone. "I think it's time for dessert."

"Right!" Cullen exclaimed and got up, glad for the excuse to leave the table. The dish waited for him on his desk, cooled down enough to eat. "I grew up in Honnleath. It's one of the only places in Thedas you can get apples."

"Apples!" Josephine exclaimed from the table. "How did you find apples in Skyhold?"

"I get them sent here," Cullen explained as he brought his apple pie to the table. It looked so simple next to Dorian's dish but Cullen barely remembered how to bake the thing let alone decorate it. "When I was in Kirkwall they had a saying. 'An apple a day keeps the spirit healer away.' Something like that, at least. Kirkwall was too far for apples but the saying stuck with me."

"And the chef knew how to make it?" Lavellan asked as she peered at the dish. Since Cullen had grown up in Honnleath, apple pies were incredibly common. It was nearly synonymous with dessert. He had discovered in his time at Kinloch and Kirkwall that apple pies didn't seem to exist outside his hometown. When he had mentioned it off-handedly to anyone they mostly seemed insulted. Berries belonged in pies, not apples.

"N-No," Cullen stammered and kept his hands firmly at his sides. "I didn't ask her."

Cullen began to cut the pie, wincing only slightly as some of the filling burned his fingers. Everyone seemed content to let Cullen drop the issue, though Dorian stared at him all the while. Josephine helped him plate the slices and handed them out to everyone. It felt like the first night of getting in his bed with Dorian all over again. Apple pie was not supposed to make anyone nervous and yet it was such an integral part of his childhood. What if Dorian didn't like it?

"It smells divine," Josephine said with a sigh. "Why don't we ever have dinner with the inner circle? We should have one weekly and make everyone bring a dish from their hometown."

"Some of us cannot so easily get food from our native country," Dorian pointed out. He pulled his gaze away from Cullen to Josephine though it looked as if the motion required effort. "Shipping spice from Tevinter under the Inquisition's name may be suspicious."

"Oh please, Dorian," Lucretia intervened. "As if I could not smuggle you spices with no one being the wiser."

"I'd rather you not go through the trouble, mother," Dorian said.

"I lied," Lavellan said suddenly. She had not waited for the group before eating her slice of apple pie. "Cullen is my favorite. Dorian you've been usurped, I'm sorry. Why did you keep this from us?!"

Cullen reddened under the praise and was glad he still remembered the recipe after twenty years. He stared at his own plate, not even looking up as he took a bite. It needed more cinnamon, but Cullen hadn't been sure the exact measurement so he knew it would be too little or too much. The aroma of spice, sugar, and apples that brought back the feeling of home. He could nearly hear his mother scolding him and Mia for fighting while Branson cried on her hip. Father dragged him to the fields and he'd be forced to work the crops while Mia got to knit or cook with mother.

"It's delicious, Commander," Dorian whispered to Cullen. Josephine and Lavellan discussed plans on how to make a weekly dinner work and what they would need. "Well done."

Cullen grinned at Dorian, purposefully ignoring the smile Lucretia sent them and the glare Halward gave them.

***

It was another hour until everyone left Cullen's office. Josephine let him know that servants would be in first thing to tomorrow to clean up the mess and if he so much as touched a utensil she would find out. She also took the last piece of pie for Leliana she claimed. Dorian had snorted into his third or fourth glass of wine and raised a single eyebrow at the Ambassador.

"Aselli is not your favorite food," Cullen said when both men dressed for bed.

"Not in the slightest. I did, admittedly, develop a taste for it while traveling. Aselli is salted cod and keeps incredibly well. As a result, it's cheap. A rather prominent staple food of the servant and Soporati classes."

"So your Magister mother and father-"

"Would rather kill themselves than be caught eating it. However, they invited themselves to our dinner. To refuse the meal would be akin to admitting defeat. Manners dictate they leave the dinner, you see."

"You said you had their cook preparing it days ago," Cullen said as he slipped into bed. Dorian was still up and about, running some sort of oil through his hair. It smelled like mint and elfroot even though the oil was mostly clear.

"A reasonable gambit. I know my parents, Commander. They're rather easy to predict if you assume that they will butt their nose in where you least want them to. You, however," Dorian wiped his hands on a nearby rag before turning to grin at Cullen. "Still a man of untold depths. You can bake?"

"Not much," Cullen said with an embarrassed smile. "Desserts, mostly. And mostly apple desserts at that."

"You can make me other desserts, is what you're saying. I believe that was exactly your intention," Dorian teased.

"If you want," Cullen replied with a smile. "Cake, tarts, turnovers, fritters, if there's a dessert then the people of Honnleath have made it with apples."

"A tempting thought. If I wasn't sure that Lavellan would reassign you as a cook, I may take you up on it. She's probably looking into reassigning you as we speak, regardless." Dorian stepped to the dresser and stood on the tips of his toes to reach a dish that hadn't been there before. It was a silver dish that appeared entirely too ornate to be found anywhere in Skyhold. What dishes they had brought from Haven had mostly been ceramic and the ones they found in the hold itself no one wanted to test.

"Unfortunately, I lack the baking prowess that you possess but I thought it would be...unworthy if you made an honest gesture the fourth day and I did not." Dorian settled onto his side of the bed and held out the dish to Cullen. There were about ten small rolls of dough that seemed to be baked and covered with sugar. There was a chocolate sauce off to one side and a red berry type jam off to another.

"Zeppole," Dorian said. "They're small pieces of dough you drop into boiling oil and then smother in sugar. Well, the best ones are smothered. I believe the recipe simply calls for sprinkling. Vendors sell them on the streets of Minrathous. Quick and cheap, they make a wonderful hangover cure."

"Did you make them?" Cullen reached over and grabbed one, dipping it in the chocolate before popping it in his mouth. It was sweet and simple, the dough was perfectly fluffy and the chocolate added just enough flavor to it.

"Maker above, no. I can cook around a campfire to a reasonable extent but the last time I was in a kitchen I both flooded it and set it afire. Don't ask." Dorian set the platter in between them and began to pick from the plate as well. The jam was a sort of raspberry sauce that Cullen found he liked better than the chocolate.

They sat and ate on the bed in one another's company. Cullen would probably be picking granules of sugar off his bedspread for weeks, but it was a minor complaint.

"Perhaps," Dorian said after a long period of comfortable silence between the two. "Next time you decide to bake I can accompany you to the kitchens? You can show me how to make an apple pie and we can eat it in front of Lavellan."

Cullen hummed in agreement with a large smile on his face. He pointed to the remaining desserts on the tray as he popped another into his mouth. "I wager we could make these with apples."

Chapter Text

Cullen woke to Cassandra's piercing voice calling his name from his office. She said something more than that but Cullen couldn't make it out in the heavy fog of his mind. There was a piercing pain above his left eye that felt like something was cauterizing his skull to the nerves at the back of his eye. If he wanted to, he could trace the exact curve of the pain, but it ached to even keep his eyes open let alone touch anything near the tender skin.

The more Cullen awakened, the more the piercing pain dulled to a hammer striking the previously burned nerves. His limbs were heavy and it was a chore to sit up in bed, every fiber of his body begging for sleep or--preferably--just a tiny bit of lyrium. Cullen sighed. He'd been doing so well for weeks that to wake up to this sort of pain felt like ten steps backwards for the one he had made forward.

A quick glance around the room confirmed he was alone, but he could have sworn that Dorian had been in the bed beside him. The position of the sun outside the window said he hadn't spent too much time getting ready. At least, not enough for the mage to slip out the room without a word.

Dressing in his plate mail was a lesson in patience. Cullen's hands shook all the while and he managed to buckle the whole ensemble together only after the steel clattered to the ground a few times. He wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his breeches, wondering if he was hot or not. He didn't exactly feel overheated, but the sweat on his palms matched the sweat he felt running down his forehead.

The climb down the ladder was even more trying. Cullen had to be sure of both his foothold and his handhold or else it felt as if he would float or fall. Maker, he already felt like he were falling. His boots slid against the rungs of the ladder and once he touched the wooden floor beneath him he let out a sigh of relief. He turned towards the door and came face-to-face with Dorian, who looked a little less than pleased.

"Commander," Dorian said with the thinnest veneer of pleasantry. "Quite a feat to make it down the ladder. Sorry to disappoint you but it was all for naught. Back up we go." The mage rotated his finger, indicating he thought Cullen should spin right back around to face the ladder.

"I'm already late, Dorian," Cullen said as he pushed passed the mage and towards the door. A muttered Tevene curse was the only warning he received before a wall of flames sprouted in front of the door. Cullen's hand found the hilt of his sword before he remembered that Dorian was the only mage in the room and he had spent the past few nights asleep in the same bed as the man. "Dispel this," Cullen said and hoped he sounded stronger than he felt.

"Look at me," Dorian said in the same inflection that Cullen used to command his troops. It should be embarrassing how quickly Cullen obeyed the order, but Cullen had always been a soldier first and foremost. Until recently, he much preferred following to leading. Kirkwall had changed that, as it had changed much.

"Obviously you are a grown man," Dorian said. He dispelled the flames with a casual wave of his hand. Cullen was reminded that Dorian was a different mage from what Cullen was used to. Dorian used magic unabashedly and easily, as if it were natural and right. "I refuse to make decisions for you or force you into anything you have no wish to do. I do feel the need to inform you that I've raised corpses with more life in their bones, however. You're whiter than the snow you Southerners are ever so fond of."

"I feel fine," Cullen protested. It was a lie and a rather blatant one. Dorian didn't seem to take it too well if the sudden flame curling about his fingers was any indication. "It will pass," Cullen amended with a sigh. "Just a headache. It won't last long." Also a lie but one far less obvious.

"Marvelous! Then stay until it passes. I will tell Cassandra that you will be on the grounds once you are well."

"I can't miss training."

"And what would you be missing? A stroll amongst the ranks while you continually point out which hand is holding the sword and which is holding the shield?"

Cullen felt a spark of ire at the accusation. It may have been slightly true but these were his recruits and his army. If they didn't know how to properly hold a sword or shield, it was his fault and his responsibility to rectify it. It was exactly why he needed to be at training.

"Commander," Dorian said, lowering his voice to a gentle whisper. "The army will not shatter if you rest a few hours. Should your men and women see you in this state? If you've yet to look in a mirror, and I doubt you have, let me assure you that you do not look well. Dashing as always, but rather like I could also knock you over with a soft breeze."

"I can't cower in my room."

"Cower?" Dorian exclaimed before pulling back his shoulders and straightening his spine. "Not one person in this keep can accuse you of cowardice. But go if you want. Run yourself to that early grave you seem to believe you deserve for some unfathomable reason."

"Dorian...." Cullen hoped to convey all of his reasoning into those few syllables. The reasons he couldn't say, couldn't speak, but please Dorian, please understand they existed and they are valid.

"Commander," Dorian replied back, voice clipped and sharp. It was as if Dorian had thrown up that wall of fire once more. Cullen's title of Dorian's lips wasn't spoken of in fond jest in that moment. It was a clear distinction and Cullen felt more like the Inquisition's Commander than Cullen Rutherford at that second. Less like the man who had unexpectedly said yes to the Tevinter mage in the garden all those months ago and more like the man in Kirkwall who held duty over justice.

The mage's hands spoke, but this was the first time that Cullen noticed that Dorian's gray eyes spoke far, far louder. He could nearly see every thought running through Dorian's head.

'My best friend is the Herald of Andraste and before that was a man consumed with the Blight. Please don't add yourself to the list of people I can't save.'

"I've stopped taking lyrium," Cullen blurted before the mage could turn around and hopefully before the sudden gulf between them became limitless. Cullen's head pounded and thrummed in tune with his heartbeat and his palms were sweating again. He wasn't sure if it was from the withdrawal or the sudden panic in seeing Dorian shut himself off so completely.

The mage's eyes softened and Cullen found himself staring at them. Despite knowing that Dorian never said what he meant when it came to something important, Cullen had fallen for the harsh tone and false words. It was difficult not to when Dorian spoke of everything so passionately.

"I know," Dorian said instead, but the fear and concern never left those gorgeous eyes. "Lyrium gives off a distinct smell and taste. The Templars running around Skyhold absolutely reek of it. You only smell faintly of it."

"You knew?"

"We spent an hour a day together for nearly a year when we played chess, Commander. It would be terribly hard not to notice."

So it wasn't so much that Dorian didn't want Cullen to add himself to that list, it was that Cullen already had.

"You're not...troubled by it?" When Cullen had told Lavellan, she had yelled and raged at him for an hour for keeping it a secret. She interrogated him on the reasons and wisdom once she had calmed down. It wasn't that she wanted Cullen back on lyrium, she just wanted to make sure Cullen knew what he was doing. What he was getting himself into. Getting such a blase reaction from the Tevinter he was faux-courting was almost depressing.

"Of course I am," Dorian replied. "I am troubled by it insofar as it could kill you. But despite today's evidence to the contrary, I trust your judgement. I admire your resolve."

Cullen looked away from Dorian, sighing deeply before a hard knock on his door echoed through the room. It was accompanied by Cassandra's voice demanding Cullen's presence.

"As you were, Commander."

"Dorian," Cullen called to the mage as he looked back his way. Dorian had already turned on his foot and Cullen was left to speak to the back of his head. "Half a day. Nothing more."

If nothing else, the wide grin Dorian gave him when he turned was worth staying in the room. "Wonderful! Up the ladder and I will speak with our dear Seeker."

With a nod, Cullen began his ascent up the ladder. Dorian waited until he reached the loft to open the door to Cassandra, the woman's voice shouting all the while. "Cassandra!" Dorian exclaimed with a false cheer. "I've been meaning to talk to you about your literature choices. If you're looking for smut, might I recommend these titles?"

Dorian's voice trailed off as Cullen landed back on his bed, plate mail and all. He was nearly asleep before the door closed.

The noise of creaking floorboards woke Cullen up from his nap. The low light of his loft was nearly blinding and his head thundered and felt like a metal striking harshly against metal. The pain reverberated along his nerves and came back with that striking pain.

"Commander?" came a smooth voice from somewhere around him. Everywhere around him. Cullen couldn't tell where Dorian's voice was coming from, all he knew was that he wasn't going to open his eyes to find out. "This is not at all how I imagined disrobing you."

"What?" Cullen croaked. When he felt fingers at his chest, Cullen was forced to open his eyes. It was as bright Cullen had feared. Once his eyes adjusted, Cullen saw Dorian bent over the bed, his clever fingers undoing the buckles of Cullen's plate mail. "You don't have to...."

"I do beg to differ. You've practically soaked this bedding in your sweat and I have to sleep in it tonight." Dorian continued to unbuckle Cullen's armor, managing to find all the clasps despite never having put it on or taken it off. Cullen suspects it's because Dorian's entire outfit is nothing but belts.

The thought of how hard it would be to take off the mage had occurred to Cullen a few times.

"Can you sit up, Commander?" Dorian asked as he pulled Cullen forward into a sitting position. It was taxing and Cullen's head swam, but he managed to stay in a seated position as Dorian lifted the armor up over his head. "There we are. Do you normally sleep in your armor? I feel so honored you changed your sleeping habits for me."

Cullen softly laughed as he watched Dorian place his armor on its traditional stand. The sun glinted off the metal and that meant it was well past midday. Despite Cullen's promise earlier, he didn't feel guilty about resting. Cassandra would surely understand if she but saw him, and she had mentioned he had been pushing himself too hard.

But was this what the Inquisition deserved? He had given himself fully to the Chantry and to the madwoman in Kirkwall who still stood guard over the city. If he gave himself to a woman and a cause he didn't believe in, how could he not do the same for the Inquisition? For the people he'd grown fond of? For the cause he believed in with all his heart?

Cullen ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the soft curls. His hand shook in his hair and his shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin. There was no piece of fabric that wasn't soaked through with his sweat. Without thought, he grasped the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He hadn't forgotten about the mage in the room, it was just that he was incredibly uncomfortable in the shirt.

Truly.

Dorian raised an eyebrow at Cullen's bared chest and clasped his hands together behind his back and out of Cullen's view. It was an unwritten rule that Cullen would always blush scarlet whenever Dorian fixed him with any amount of attention.

Cullen found he rather hated that rule.

"Don't stop on my account. If you wish to get nude, then by all means...." Dorian's voice trailed off as his lips curled into a smirk.

"Only if you'll join me," Cullen said back. His head throbbed enough that he couldn't quite think enough to be properly embarrassed and despite what the entire keep believed, he did grow up in a Circle with mostly men. Not even men, really. Boys and young men who were more than happy to throw a spare glance at anyone and anything they considered attractive.

Dorian's eyebrows nearly shot up to his hairline and the mage took a nearly imperceptible step back, masking it to look like pacing. "Such a tempting thought, Commander. Alas, with you so indisposed I fear you won't be able to fully appreciate my beauty entirely. A shame, really." The grin on Dorian's face widened but there was something strained about it and Dorian still held his hands behind his back. "But let's get you well, shall we? We can talk about my dashing visage any time.

"Now lie back, my dear Commander," Dorian said as he stepped closer to Cullen. A hole formed in Cullen's heart as Dorian effectively stonewalled Cullen's one attempt at flirting. Doubt crept into Cullen's mind. It wasn't like Dorian didn't flirt with everyone and everything that walked. So the mage sent him a few glances here and there? Dorian could have his pick of all the men in Skyhold, why in Andraste's did Cullen think he was good enough to grab the Tevinter's attention?

"I'm not very good at mothering," Dorian continued, oblivious to the sudden weight in Cullen's chest. "But I daresay I can manage just fine. I've yet to encounter something I could not master." Dorian swiped a teacup from Cullen's nightstand, one that Cullen was fairly sure hadn't been there when he'd fallen asleep. Without even seeing it, Cullen knew it was elfroot tea.

It helped the pain a little, but he rather hated the taste of elfroot.

Dorian handed the teacup to him, fingers wrapped around Cullen's for a moment as he waited for Cullen to steady the cup. "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted," Cullen replied. "My head...." Cullen started but couldn't find the words for it. He motioned to his left eye with his free hand and drank the disgusting elfroot tea. He closed his eyes and relaxed back against his pillow. "It will pass."

Dorian's fingers wound around Cullen's hand and gently pulled the teacup from his grasp. "Of course. That you will come back from this stronger, I have no doubt. Now, I will lie beside you in bed and read the day away. It's quite a pleasant day to not venture outside."

Cullen snorted. Dorian hated most days in Skyhold when he was outside, or so he said. The mage chuckled at his response and Cullen heard the heels of Dorian's shoes as he circled the bed.

"So if you need me, Commander, I will be right beside you. Do not hesitate to tell me if you need anything. I have so few opportunities to fuss over people--especially half-naked ex-Templars--I intend to revel in it."

"Revel all you want. I intend to sleep," Cullen said as he settled against the pillows and got comfortable. "What ritual are we missing?"

"Ah, we're supposed to take one another to our favorite places. Rather hard since we are both rather chained to the Inquisition, but I assume you've been in the library, yes? That is my favorite place."

"It's not."

"No, but dragging you to the feet of the Juggernauts in Minrathous seems like a marvelously idiotic idea. So the library it is." To be honest, Cullen had always wanted to see the giant golems that guarded the Tevinter capital. He was told it was an impressive and humbling sight by the few Tevinters he'd known.

There was suddenly a hesitant touch to his hair, a whisper of contact that Cullen thought he must have been imagining it. But the touch deepened until he knew for certainty that it was the feeling of fingers curled in the locks of his hair.

He opened his eyes before he thought better of it. Dorian's hand was only barely in his hair, a sorry attempt at a scalp massage. The mage wasn't looking anywhere near the Commander, his eyes focused on the book he held in his other hand to the point that Cullen thought his gaze would set the book aflame. Tension sang in every fiber of Dorian's body as well, as if he were expecting Cullen to shrug him off.

Instead, Cullen closed his eyes once more and forced himself to relax underneath the mage's touch. Dorian's fingers became bolder as time passed and while the massage didn't truly help his headache, the elation Cullen felt did.

"And you, Commander? Do you have a favorite place in the whole of Thedas?"

Cullen hummed in his throat and tried to pull himself from the mildly pleasant haze he had unknowingly entered. "There's a lake near Honnleath I could escape to....Perhaps I could take you there one day?" It didn't have to be said that there was no reason to take Dorian to that small lake. By that point, they would be done with the thirty days and Dorian's parents would be long gone from Skyhold.

"I would love to," Dorian said. "Though I fear I get rather seasick even looking at water. You will have to endure my complaining, I'm afraid."

"I have so far."

A startled laugh echoed through the loft and brought a smile to Cullen's face. "Such sass! I'm quite impressed, who knew you had it in you?"

A comfortable silence fell as the pounding in Cullen's head was offset slightly from the pads of Dorian's fingers against his scalp. "What's the book you're reading?" Cullen asked.

"Ah, Epistulae ex Ponto. Quite terrible actually, but you lot have so few books in Tevene I had to make do."

"Do you miss Tevinter?"

"What an odd question. I suppose, but the worst of Tevinter has followed me here so I'm unsure it's Tevinter itself or the distance from my father."

Cullen knew that Dorian missed Tevinter in the way he didn't talk about it. It was over more than a few chess games that Dorian had told Cullen about his plans to make Tevinter anew. Cullen didn't see how any one person could undo thousands of years of history but if anyone could, Dorian could.

"Would you teach me Tevene?"

"Right now?" Dorian asked, disbelief coloring his voice. "You want me to teach you a new language while you lie there half asleep with a withdrawal headache and a fever?" At Cullen's hum of agreement, Dorian huffed out a small laugh. "Well, at least you've got the handsome thing going for you.

"Epistula means 'letter' while epistuale is the plural," Dorian started. Cullen would repeat the words back to the mage, Dorian would laugh at his pronunciation, and so they repeated until Cullen drifted to sleep.

When Cullen awoke it was to a warm weight on his chest. He blearily opened his eyes to greet the morning sun and a sleeping mage who had his head resting on Cullen's chest. It looked like Dorian hadn't meant to fall asleep like that, one hand still clutched his terrible book and folding the pages into ways the Tevinter was sure to fuss about later.

But Dorian's head was on his chest. The mage was curled about him like a lover would be, though Cullen was the only one in any state of undress. Cullen's heart skipped a beat and he kept still as a statue in hopes that Dorian wouldn't wake.

The pounding in his head was completely gone, as was the feeling of sweat but none of that mattered because Dorian was pressed against him. He should do the courteous thing and move so the mage wasn't doing something he would not want to do in consciousness.

Cullen didn't move. Couldn't move. Was it so wrong to enjoy a bit of closeness?

But the Commander didn't want to take anything Dorian didn't want to give freely. He shifted a bit, trying to move carefully beneath the sleeping man so he could slide beneath him without waking the man.

Luck was not on his side Cullen thought, as he watched Dorian groan and shift, opening his eyes up at the Commander. "Don't tell me it's morning already," Dorian muttered. He curled against Cullen and for a split second everything was fine. Absolutely nothing was wrong. Until of course Dorian realized what he was lying on. Then he scrambled off Cullen as if he were snow or the Waking Sea or something that Dorian hated equally as much.

"Ah, Commander, I didn't mean to- Well," Dorian said as he pulled his sleep shirt down, if only to give his hands something to do. "I apologize Commander, I didn't mean to molest you."

Cullen laughed and sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "I hardly consider that molesting, Dorian. We were sleeping, it was bound to happen."

"Yes, well, I would much rather do that while you were...willing," Dorian said, his eyes averted away from Cullen and a slight blush on those high cheekbones.

Did Dorian just--? He couldn't have really....

"I- Who said- Who said I wasn't willing?" Cullen asked, his face aflame as he hoped he hadn't read that wrong. There was no other way to read it though, right?

Right?

"As charming as you are Commander, you truly don't need to lie to me."

"I'm not!" Cullen shouted. He stood in one motion and stepped towards the mage before he could scurry away. "Dorian, why do you think I told your mother we were a couple?"

"Because Skyhold would be dreadfully boring without me," Dorian said and he finally looked to Cullen. "Don't tempt me with what I can't have, Commander."

"I'm not."

Cullen tentatively reached out for the mage's hand, threading his fingers through the ringed ones. He ran his thumb over the skin and metal, keeping his touch light because he couldn't risk this.

Dorian held onto Cullen's hand with a firmer grasp and Cullen continued to trace the mage's rings. The pad of his thumb ran over a familiar silhouette of a snake with a gemmed eye and a jewel clasped between an open mouth and held by fangs.

Cullen frowned and brought their hands in front of his eyes and sure enough, there was the snake ring on Dorian's finger. "When did you take this back?"

"Commander?" Dorian asked as he cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed.

"Your ring. When did you take it back?"

"Last night. Did you forget?"

Cullen racked his brain and came up with nothing. Dorian didn't take his ring back last night. In fact, Cullen doubted that Dorian would even wish to take it back. He'd been been just as happy to see Cullen wearing his ring as Cullen had been to see Dorian in his cloak.

The background of Cullen's loft flickered before his eyes, replaced with the visage of a burning Kinloch Hold. Dead mages lined the hallways as Pride Demons slithered over them. The bright blue barrier was the only thing protecting him from them, but it did nothing to the Lust Demon whose hand he was holding.

Cullen tried to yank it away but the demon held fast, her fanged smile widening. "Come now, sweet thing. Do you think the mage would love you as I could? That he'd love you once he knew how you wished to burn Kinloch, mages and all, to the ground?" The demon floated around him, wrapping her arm around his shoulder in an embrace he couldn't escape. "How about when he asks you how much of Varric's tale is true? Would you lie to him? Tell him you had no idea what happened in Kirkwall? Or would you tell him that your hatred blinded you and led to the deaths of hundred of mages? Did you mourn the dead mages, Cullen?"

"You will be silent," Cullen hissed and tried to move, to get any sort of leverage over the demon who inexplicably overpowered him.

"Do you think he'll love you after that? Come now, Commander. You're not so naive. Stay with me and I can give you what you can't have out there."

"You're not real," Cullen said. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to remember what he was doing last. He couldn't be in Kinloch. Kinloch was a decade ago. "I'm-I'm in Haven."

"No," the demon breathed against his ear. "You failed to defend it. Its people burned to the ground in dragonfire as you sprinted to safety. You think you deserve to live while they died for your mistake?"

Cullen spun as the demon's hold loosened and he pushed her back against the barrier, ignoring her screams. He wasn't thinking, only reacting as his Templar training told him to. Disarm the demon. Kill the demon. "You're not real. And I am not helpless this time."

The only indication the demon heard him was a widening of her grin. "Cullen," she whispered as she squirmed in his grasp.

"Cullen." The demon let out a loud laugh as she rolled her hips against his. "I'm in your blood, Cullen. Sweet, dear Cullen. Cullen."

"CULLEN!"

Cullen wrenched his eyes open only to see Dorian once more, lying in their bed. This time though, he was above the mage and had his hands pinned as he straddled Dorian. Lightning was weakly dancing around Dorian's ringless fingers and the Tevinter looked absolutely terrified.

"Cullen," the mage said once more, voice shaking. Cullen shook his head, trying to clear the nightmare from his mind and took in his surroundings. The first thing Cullen noticed was the feeling of magic around him. It felt like like incense, old libraries, and a pyre before the first strike of flame. Dorian's magic. But it didn't wrap around him like a mage's normally would. He'd gotten so used to Dorian's magic touching him at all times that to have it so separated was odd.

It took a few more seconds of staring into the mage's terrified face to realize what happened. He was casting Silence. He was silencing Dorian's magic. "Maker's breath!" Cullen shouted as he scrambled from the bed, letting go of Dorian's wrists and releasing the Silence he had cast about the room.

"Dorian. I didn't mean- I'm sorry," Cullen babbled to the mage who only continued to look at the patched ceiling above him. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Cullen repeated the mantra over and over as he turned and climbed down the ladder. It was only a few short steps before he collapsed into his desk chair, still voicing his apologies to a mage who was well out of earshot of his whispers.

With a vicious motion, Cullen clamped his thumb and forefinger around the snake ring he still wore on his finger and let a feeling of calm wash over him. Like Dorian's magic from before though, it was something he was aware of but separated from.

But it was Dorian's magic and Cullen wanted to remind himself that it was no longer barred.

Who was he kidding? The demon from his dream was right. Dorian just wanted to stay in Skyhold, nothing more. Cullen had given him an easy out and the mage wasn't an idiot. He would take it. So the mage massaged his scalp the night before? Any affection Dorian had for him wouldn't last. Not with everything Cullen had done. Not with how much Cullen had loathed mages, how many he had wished dead, how many deaths he had a hand in.

So he sat in the chair, unworthy of the mage in the loft above and unworthy of holding the position as the Inquisition's Commander. Cassandra should replace him now. He would have to tell her in the morning to find a suitable successor.

"You'll wear the enchantment out like that," came Dorian's voice. Cullen jumped at his approach and saw that Dorian had somehow managed to sneak up on him and kneel next to his chair without him ever realizing it. "May I?" Dorian asked and held out his hand.

Cullen yanked off the ring and handed it back to Dorian without complaint. He owed the Tevinter so much more than his ring back. "Dorian, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-. I didn't even know I could-. Can you-?"

"Hush," Dorian said. An orb of light appeared in Dorian's overturned palm and he funneled it in to the large green gem on his ring. "Are you well?"

"Am I-?! Dorian, I cast Silence on you!"

"Admittedly not how I wanted to wake up when I went to bed with a half naked ex-Templar, but I'm hardly going to blame you. It's not like you meant to."

"But I stil-"

"Commander, you were not yourself. I understand this and I forgive you, though there is nothing to forgive. So I will ask again, despite my loathing to repeat myself, are you well?"

The soft voice of the Lust Demon filled his ears, her hand firmly clasped around his as he was barred from movement. The accusations she spouted--the truth--echoed in his mind. "No," Cullen said at long last. "I'm not."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Kinloch Hold," Cullen said, surprised at finding his voice. He found he wanted to tell Dorian though. Needed to. "It was taken over by abominations. The Templars--my friends--were slaughtered. I was tortured, they tried to break my mind and I- How can you be the same person after that?"

"You can't, Commander," Dorian said as he took Cullen's hand between his. This hold was loose though, nothing like the demon's from his dream. "I'm sorry for what happened."

"I am too. I called for the Right of Annulment but it fell on deaf ears. Luckily. Selene didn't speak with me for years after that. I don't think she's ever forgiven me for it."

"You were tortured, Commander. You weren't in your right mind and no one can blame you for that. You are more than your past and more than your lyrium withdrawals now. You are the man who survived demons infiltrating his mind and did not break. While those instances help define you, they are not you." Dorian placed his snake ring back on Cullen's finger, despite Cullen's soft protests. "Shall we go back to bed?"

"I'll sleep down here."

"Perish the thought! There's no room for both of us in that chair," Dorian said as he stood and extended his hand to Cullen. "Experiencing a Templar's Silence was never exactly on my to-do list, and let's hope it never happens again, but I will not fault you for instinct. As I said--and how many times must I repeat myself?--I forgive you."

Cullen frowned but took the mage's hand. He knew Dorian's stubborn face when he saw it. Dorian grinned at Cullen, all of the previous fear in his eyes long gone. Using his thumb, Dorian maneuvered his thumb over Cullen's and pressed them both firmly into the green gem.

A feeling of comfort flowed through Cullen and it felt rather like incense, old libraries, and a pyre before the first strike of flame. Cullen gave Dorian the best smile he could manage, even if it felt watery. "To bed?" he asked.

Chapter Text

Cullen awoke to the wrong man in his bed. Waking up to any man in his bed was a rather new experience but he had expected to see a Tevinter man and not an Antivan elf.

"Zev-" Cullen started to say, but the elf placed a finger on his lips and motioned to his pointed ear. Cullen furrowed his eyebrows, but it didn't take long for him to understand Zevran's meaning.

"He Silenced you!" Selene's shaking voice carried from Cullen’s office to the loft. "And you're fine with that?"

"Oh, he's not the first person I care about to hurt me in new and imaginative ways," Dorian replied, his voice sharp and biting. "But he is the first to feel absolutely terrible about it. I find it novel."

Cullen's heart fell into his stomach for what felt like the hundredth time in hours. Had Dorian told Selene? No, probably not. Likely Selene could still feel the remnants of his Silence in the room and had come to her own conclusions.

"This is how the Templars treat our mages!"

"Oh yes, please regale me with tales of how the Templars abused you. We can even compare! Your years in the Circle and Cullen's days being held captive by demons. Tell me, did they make you wear unfashionable robes? I would say they forced you to eat flavorless food but let's be honest, there's not much else in the South."

"I shouldn't have expected a pampered Tevinter Magister to understand."

"Us pampered Tevinter Magisters are actually quite sympathetic to your plight. Spread the word of our practical mage utopia, and you lot come running as if we hold all the answers." Cullen doesn't think he'd ever heard this tone with Dorian. It was light and sarcastic, but there was a certain emphasis Dorian included to make his words feel like jagged steel. "More bodies to throw at the Qunari with promises of social advancement. We're all very sympathetic."

Cullen moves to stand but Zevran holds out a hand, only lightly so that Cullen could shrug him off easier than the wind. "Allow them their argument," Zevran whispered and Cullen only barely heard him amidst Selene's shouting. "They both love you in their own way and must show it in their own way, yes? Selene loves you as she loves her past. Your handsome Tevinter friend loves you as he loves his magic."

"It's too early for this," Cullen hissed. Let the Antivan elf have his riddles if he thought they meant anything. Cullen needed to stop the argument before Selene shifted into a bear or Dorian started to raise the dead of Skyhold. Nevermind the fact that they would awaken everyone in the keep. The last thing Cullen wanted was for everyone to know he had cast Silence. The mages in the keep wouldn't trust him again, the Templars would think he was one of their own, and Cassandra and the Inquisitor would think he had gone back on lyrium.

It raised more questions than it answered.

Cullen rubbed at his eyes and regretted, not for the first time, opening his big mouth and telling Lucretia and Halward he and Dorian were a couple. Couldn't he simply go back to pining from his corner while everyone giggled behind his back? Now he was pining while lying in bed next to Dorian and everyone giggled in front of him.

"I was hoping their passionate argument would lead to a very breathtaking and exquisite embrace, but if you do not wish to see this?"

"No," Cullen growled while ignoring the flare of jealousy that had no business existing. He stood from the bed as Zevran tried to call him back, but he had no desire to listen to the Antivan. Zevran may have wanted the argument to continue, but he wasn't about to leave Dorian defending him. Not when he had no business to do so after last night. He slid down the ladder and landed softly on his office floor, Zevran not far behind him.

Dorian’s form was wreathed in flames and Selene had some green light dancing about her like wings. It lasted all of a second before both mages reigned in their magic at the sight of Cullen and Zevran. Selene fixed him with a glare that looked utterly familiar. Cullen tried valiantly not to compare her to the mage who destroyed the Chantry in Kirkwall, but the hatred seemed so akin to Anders' that he couldn't help it. Dorian on the other hand looked at Cullen in an odd combination of worry and determination, his hand subtly poised in Selene's direction.

"Selene-" Cullen began, only to be cut off by the elven mage.

"Don't you dare," Selene said and she took a step towards him. Dorian, with a flourish of his hand, ensured that she wasn't taking another one. A fire rune glowed at the tip of Selene's shoe, daring her to twitch in Cullen's general vicinity. With a snarl, Selene dispelled Dorian's rune, only for him to cast another the second her spell was done. "Don't think you can outdo me, Magister."

"Oh, I rather think I can," Dorian replied with a lilting tone that didn't match his scowl. "After all, us Magisters are actually trained in magic unlike your Southern tradition of fumbling about and hoping something works. It's rather quaint watching you lot throw around fireball spells like they're the pinnacle of magic. You do know every Tevinter learns that spell at seven, don’t you?"

"You fucking pompous asshole," Selene began as she turned her attention back to Dorian and stalked towards him. Dorian simply straightened his spine and glared at one of the most powerful mages Cullen's ever met.

Cullen and Zevran raced to their respective partners, Cullen to stand in front of Dorian and Zevran to wrap his arm around his lover's waist and pull her back. "Easy, my fiery Warden." Zevran finished his sentence with some words in Antivan that make Selene relax slightly into the elf's arms.

"You truly do have a knight-in-shining-armor complex don't you, Commander?" Dorian asked from behind Cullen. Enough annoyance and amusement colored his voice that Cullen wasn't sure if Dorian was insulted or not. He could have turned to face the Tevinter, but he was more worried about Selene in front of him.

He wasn't sure when he had come to trust a Tevinter mage he'd only known for a year more than Selene Surana, the woman he spent five years pining after and two years courting. But Selene had seen enough of Cullen to become mistrustful of him. Dorian simply needed to catch up.

"Dorian, stop," Cullen said. "Selene has every right to be upset."

"You're damn right I do," Selene said. "You told me you left the Order behind."

"I did," Cullen snapped. "You'll find the Order was quite done with me after Kirkwall as well. I didn't lie to you, Selene."

"I'm sorry, does anyone care about what the mage who had Silence cast on him thinks?" Dorian asked as he stepped to Cullen's side. "I don't see why you're blaming him, Lady Surana. Can't imagine you'd react much better if you were reliving the Archdemon attack."

"That's different."

"Is it? The Commander believed he was threatened and he reacted. It was an accident, as I keep reminding you damn Southerners."

"My love," Zevran said to Selene. "If you wish to keep our presence a secret here, we need to return to our cellar. Perhaps we can have this discussion later, hm?"

Selene looked as if she wanted to protest, but the Antivan Crow said to leave, so it was probably a good indication that they needed to leave before being discovered. How they were going to make it to the wine cellar without anyone noticing was a question Cullen truly didn't care about. Selene had a right to be mad, Cullen couldn't fault her for that. What he could fault her for was her tone with Dorian and making him feel the need to defend the Tevinter, even if Cullen still mentally sided with Selene.

"Fine," Selene said finally and she shrugged free of her lover. She stepped up to Cullen and Cullen waved to Dorian to stay his hand. He didn't need to look at the Tevinter mage to know he was already preparing a spell. Selene reached into a fold of her Gray Warden attire, parting the blue fabric underneath her breast, and pulled out something small. It was wrapped in enough white fabric that Cullen couldn't tell what it was, just a small lump of something. Selene held it out for Cullen to take, which he did with a tentative hand. "Good day, Templar."

That was low, Cullen thought as Zevran and Selene simply walked out his door, over-confident that they wouldn't be caught. It's not as if they weren't both wearing Gray Warden attire and would be questioned about it instantly. Cullen clutched the small bundle in his hand tighter and let out a sigh that made his entire body slump.

"The gall," Dorian hissed at his side. Dorian's magic was making the entire room vibrate noticeably. The sheer amount of magic in the room was impressive and made the hairs on Cullen's arm stand up in attention. Dorian stepped around so he was facing Cullen and despite the erratic magic in the air, despite the flames flickering up Dorian's arm in a fit of uncontrollable magic, the mage looked at Cullen with pure concern in his eyes and asked "Are you alright, Commander?"

"You shouldn't have said anything, Dorian."

"What? Oh, I see. You're the only one allowed to play knight in shining armor, then?" Dorian asked, his concern moving to anger at a speed Cullen was rather impressed with. "You won't defend yourself because you think you've done something wrong. As if casting Silence was something you consciously did when you and I both know it was an accident."

"Selene-"

"Had no right," Dorian said, his voice raised over Cullen's own. "Ask a mage how they react to a threat and if they say anything but 'light it aflame', they're lying. To attack you for doing exactly what she would have done is unacceptable. An emotionally manipulative ploy to keep you guilty and do believe me, Commander, when I say I know emotionally manipulative. If not, please allow me to reintroduce you to my parents."

"She's worried. She spent a decade in Kinloch and not all Templars have knight in shining armor problems, as you so named them. There's power in the Circles, Dorian, and there's a lot of Templars who abuse that power."

Whatever Dorian was going to say was interrupted by Lucretia knocking on the door to Cullen's office exactly once before as she let herself in. "Apologies, am I interrupting?" Lucretia asked as she stepped in to lace her arm through Dorian's. Her eyes settled on Cullen's bare chest for a moment and she cocked an eyebrow, giving the Commander a smirk that happened to look exactly like Dorian's. "Dorian, I hear there's a quaint library here. I would be immensely grateful if you were to show it to me while your father is off gallivanting with the mages here."

"Father is where?" Dorian asked in a strained tone. The look he shot Cullen assured the Commander that their discussion was far from over, despite the fact that Dorian would probably leave. While Lucretia gave her gratitude, Cullen highly doubted that her request was a request at all. The nobles all had some way or another of making their requests seem like demands, Dorian and his family weren't immune to that trait.

"Oh, off with your little Spymaster. She offered to show him the troops, I believe," Lucretia said as she waved away Dorian's concern. At least Leliana was with Halward, Cullen thought, she might be able to frighten him sufficiently. "Now walk with me to the library?"

"Mother," Dorian said, running a hand through his already styled hair. Cullen briefly wondered when he had time to manage the locks. "You've seen the library. I do believe that you met Commander Rutherford there a few days ago."

"Surely that cannot be the whole of the library!"

"It truly is."

With a strangled gasp, Lucretia clutched at her heart and turned her face away from Dorian and Cullen, her perfectly curled black hair hiding her face. Dorian shot Cullen a 'Look what I have to deal with?' look. Cullen rolled his eyes and hoped he conveyed back how Dorian was just as dramatic as his mother. "That simply cannot stand. Come, show me to the lovely Inquisitor I met and we will rectify this situation."

"Mothe-"

"Now, Dorian. I cannot simply walk to her myself. She's the Inquisitor. Honestly, it's as if you learned nothing at court when I know full well I left you a perfectly well-mannered young man. Has the South really turned you so barbaric as to expect me to waltz up to the Lady Lavellan without an introduction?" Lucretia scoffed and pulled on Dorian's arm hard enough to make the man stumble after her.

"I will introduce you mother, but give me one moment," Dorian said as pulled his arm free of Lucretia's. He turned to Cullen and gave him that same look, that stubborn glare that promised they would have words later. Instead of speaking, he pushed past the Commander and to the ladder.

When he was finally on the second floor, Lucretia shot Cullen that familiar smirk once more. "Having fun, Commander?" she asked as she raked her eyes up Cullen's chest.

"Maker's breath," Cullen sighed. He ran a hand over his face, wishing beyond anything for that imaginary dragon he'd conjured a few days ago to swallow him once more. "It's not what you think."

"Oh my dear, there's nothing wrong with a bit of fun. Trust me, if I were as young as you two and had a partner that was as strapping as you, I'd want a bit of fun as well."

Cullen was leaving Skyhold. That was all there was to it. Cullen was going to request he be given leave and he would go on a mission and never return. Ser Barris could take over, or Ser Rylen. Dear Maker above, he could still do the Inquisition some good if he were away from Skyhold. Far away. Kirkwall, at this point, would be preferable.

"Do take it easy on him, mother," Dorian said as he descended the ladder. "We're only a few more blushes away from his face being permanently stained red."

There was a retort in the back of Cullen's mind, but it was drowned out by the fact that the reason Dorian asked for a moment was to grab Cullen's cloak from the loft above. The mage was wearing it as he climbed down the ladder, as if it were part of his normal morning routine he simply forgot.

Perhaps it was simply because Halward was still out in Skyhold and would raise a fuss if Dorian weren't wearing his token, but Cullen doubted it. It begged the question of why would Dorian make a point to wear the cloak if not for Halward?

There was a rather obvious answer to the question, but Cullen smothered the thought before it could fully bloom. Dorian wouldn't want to wear it. Not after last night.

"Well," Dorian said as he clapped his hands together and walked around Cullen. He took his mother's arm, which Lucretia accepted with a quick inclination of her head to Cullen. "The faster you see Lavellan, the faster this can be over with, yes?"

"You wound me, Dorian. I'm not the one in this shack of a keep with a few scant bookshelves and calling it a library. Have you truly done nothing to make the library presentable? What if the Ambassador introduced anyone to you in that little hovel? No, it simply cannot stand."

Lucretia's admonishing voice carried through the room even after she pulled Dorian out of Cullen's office, leaving him alone with the feeling of Dorian's magic, a bit of Selene's, but mostly the remnants of his Silence. It was bright and sterile and seemed to magnify without the presence of a mage.

Cullen watched after the mages for a few moments before the blinding feeling of magic and the lack thereof crawled against his skin like too sharp and clean knives. He couldn't stay in that room, but he couldn't go to the training grounds. Not like this, not so...scattered. Broken.

Cullen set the wrapped bundle on his desk and climbed up his ladder in record time to put a loose tunic over his bare chest. The Silence itched along his skin and Cullen only barely resisted the temptation to place the pad of his thumb on his ring. Dorian's ring. The one he gave back to Cullen when Cullen didn't deserve it.

But it was the feeling of incense, old libraries, and a pyre before the first strike of flame resting against his hand and that was probably the only thing keeping him sane. Cullen may be many things, but he never claimed to be a strong man. Not when something was so freely given.

Without a thought of where to go, Cullen grabbed the bundle off his desk and followed the path the mages had set earlier. He walked the bridge to Solas's rotunda, giving the elf a distant and soft 'good morning.' Could Solas tell what he had done? The Silence didn't follow Cullen about like an aura like true magic did. But Solas knew more of magic than anyone Cullen had the pleasure of meeting.

He didn't stay in the rotunda long.

He passed Varric and said another hello without waiting to exchange small talk. It wasn't the morning for it, and Varric was observant enough that Cullen thought he would realize that. Cullen's feet took him into the garden, where he avoided the courtyard and the disapproving stare of Mother Giselle. She hadn't taken kindly to his friendship with Dorian and had mentioned it to the Commander multiple times. It was fairly obvious what she thought of this supposed courtship.

Cullen couldn't go into the courtyard, couldn't go up the stairs for fear of Cassandra looking up and seeing him walk the battlements, and he had no desire to wallow in Andraste's Shrine. Being in Andraste's presence would feel like being in Cole's presence. Too much, too soon, and too raw to give his thoughts name.

Instead, Cullen opened a door he didn't even know was there. It opened with a bit of force, the old wood of the door creaking underneath Cullen's weight. The room was empty save for random pieces of cloth strewn about ancient furniture. There was a latticed window at the back of the room overlooking the forest beneath Skyhold and the red rug at Cullen's feet bore the Chantry's symbol along the edge. Which again begged the question of who Skyhold had belonged to before the Inquisition.

It was a question for another time. Cullen sat against the wall, taking the corner in the back so he could stare out the window and wonder what was happening in the world outside the keep. Mia would probably need a letter sent to her. Cullen hadn't sent one in he didn't know how long and it was getting to the point where he was surprised his sister hadn't come storming into Skyhold herself.

The idea of Lavellan, Cassandra, Selene, and Mia all in one place gave the Commander pause before he shuddered. No, he ought to write Mia. Keep that from ever happening.

Cullen looked to his hands and the small cloth bundle lying in his palms. He had an idea of what it could be, but surely Selene wouldn't be that cruel. It was why he hesitated to unwrap it, unsure if he even wanted to know what Selene could have given him. But curiosity won out.

With a slow hand, Cullen unbound three pieces of white cloth from the object. There was one left to go but Cullen didn't need to remove it to know what it was. It was a circular object, with two bulbs in the middle that could have been mistaken for an hourglass if not for what filled the glass. It grew warm in his hand as he moved it to the wall opposite him, even through the last layer of fabric.

Cullen's not sure how he didn't throw the damned thing against the wall or smash it in between his fist. He pulled away at the last layer of fabric between him and the phylactery. Selene's phylactery if the warmth and persistent glow were anything to go by.

He thought they had destroyed it when she had gone to the Wardens. Hadn't it been destroyed then? Or in the destruction of the White Spire? Why had she kept it? What was the point in keeping this...this thing?

Why had she given it to him? Could she really think so little of him?

Perhaps she thought of Templars what he had believed of mages. Once a threat to her and her fellow mages, always a threat. But it had been an accident. Dorian had vouched for him and had been rather passionate in doing so. It didn't make it okay--Maker above did it not make it okay--but this was...Cullen didn't know what this was. A reminder, he supposed.

"There you are," Dorian's voice called from the doorway. "I leave you for half an hour at the most and then have to spend the remainder of the day looking for you. Do you know how many times I had to walk through this garden after Varric said he saw you head towards the garden? I walked with Mother Giselle and started all sorts of rumors of our sex life. Mine and Varric's sex life, of course."

All day? Surely Cullen hadn't been in that small room all day. One look outside the window and away from the phylactery confirmed that he actually had been in that room from nearly sunup to sundown. "I was...distracted."

"Mm," Dorian hummed in his throat as he stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him. "By the phylactery, yes? Oh don't look so surprised," Dorian said at Cullen's confused look. "I'm quite aware of the Southern Chantry's condoned use of blood magic. It raises all sorts of questions about the Chantry if all blood magic is inherently evil but we'll discuss that a different day over a game of chess, hm?"

"It's Selene's," Cullen said finally. He chose to ignore Dorian's jab at the Chantry as the Tevinter mage came to sit next to him. Cullen moved the phylactery towards the door, just a few inches and the whole apparatus glowed brighter. "It's what she gave me this morning."

"I know. Selene and I had a little talk as I was searching throughout Thedas for you."

"Dorian-."

"Relax, Commander. Just a talk. A few hours long of a talk, but simply a talk. It may please you to know that she now feels quite terrible about this morning and was also looking for you. I believe her exact words were along the lines of 'Oh dear Maker, he'll never forgive me.' Which I responded that she was clearly overreacting, until I heard what she gifted you."

Cullen sighed and slumped further against the wall as he brought the phylactery back to his lap and stared at the small glass vial held by the circular piece of metal. It was meant to be a necklace, worn on a Templar's neck as they hunted down apostates. Cullen didn't exactly need a phylactery to hunt down apostates. They were rather surrounded by them in Skyhold and while it may have made him uncomfortable in the beginning, there had been no outbreaks of abominations. None.

"I don't know what I am anymore," Cullen finally said as he played with the damned object, spinning the device in his hand. It fluctuated between cold and hot in between Cullen's fingers. He struggled to remember why he wasn't breaking it. "When I was young, all I wanted to be was a Templar. My parents were happy for it, meant one less mouth to feed and I wasn't particularly talented at anything we did. Not like Mia or Branson. I was determined as a child. Begged the local Knight-Captain to take me in.”

Cullen didn't know why he was reliving this. He'd already told Dorian everything earlier that night. What more could he possibly have to add to it? But he couldn't stop speaking and looking at Selene's blood glowing and dimming in the glass vial. Dorian remained silent, and that was all the pushing Cullen needed to continue.

"I admired the Order, and when I got to the Circle, I admired it even more. For years I saw Templars and mages living peacefully with one another. There were bad days, or so I was told. I was too young to be involved in anything but training. I was there to simply guard the mages, make sure no blood magic happened and no abominations were created." Cullen snorted as he remembered meeting Selene, a smile tugged at his face thinking about if Dorian were ever at Kinloch, he would have met him the same way. "I was in charge of guarding the library and Selene was always there. She didn't seem to mind the Templars the same way all the other mages did. At least, she spoke to us like we were people. Not jailors.

"It was...difficult courting her. She was so...." Blunt? Clever? Confident?

So much like you, Cullen wanted to tell Dorian. Perhaps he did have a type after all.

"I was even more of a fumbling mess back then, if you can imagine," Cullen said. He looked to Dorian and waited for a clever quip that never came. Instead, the mage simply waited patiently for Cullen to continue, eyes locked onto Cullen's face in a way that let the Commander know he had the Tevinter's full attention. "I think Selene took it as a challenge. But she was--is--beautiful and smart and everything I wanted in a partner, even if she's a mage.

"She left with the Wardens, not enough time to say good-bye. The next time I saw her was when Uldred took over Kinloch, when I was being kept as a toy for those- those things. There wasn't- I couldn't-" Cullen reached for a word that wasn't there, a way to describe what he felt at Kinloch. "There wasn't a way to tell reality from what those demons wanted me to see. I called for the Rite but even years afterwards, I still fell into those visions. I didn't just hate mages then, Dorian. I hated them for years. Every moment I saw a shadow at the corner of my eye or a whisper in the back of my mind.

"You would have hated me," Cullen admitted. "I let so many mages become Tranquil in Kirkwall, believing it was for the best. They died on my watch because I couldn't shake what the demons did in Kinloch. If I would have just been stronger, I could have saved some of them. Fought back against Meredith instead of condoning her madness.

"Cassandra offered me the position of Commander after Kirkwall. I didn't hesitate in accepting and stopped taking lyrium soon after. But it may not have mattered," Cullen said and rested his eyes once more on the damned phylactery. "I suppose I'll always be a Templar."

Cullen shouldn't have put this all on Dorian. Dorian was not his personal emotional dumping grounds and he was only a few days in to this whole courtship thing. A Silence and Cullen's constant complaining and why did Cullen think he had a shot with Dorian? "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burden you with all of this."

"Hush, Commander," Dorian said. He pried the phylactery from Cullen's hand and rotated it between his hands. "As you keep reminding everyone, you're an ex-Templar. One errant Silence does not change that fact. So in case you have forgotten who you are, allow me to remind you. Your name is Cullen Stanton Rutherford," Dorian said and shot Cullen a smirk. In response, Cullen tried not to show how much he enjoyed Dorian's lips forming his name. "You are the Inquisition's Commander, an ex-Templar, an ex-Knight-Captain, and the second most handsome man in the Inquisition."

Cullen snorted and didn’t tell Dorian about the bet Skyhold had going. Dorian was the second most handsome person in Skyhold, Cullen was third, and their imaginary love-child was deemed the most handsome. Varric had a hand in that, Cullen's sure of it.

"If it's any consolation, Commander, you would have hated me as well," Dorian said as he held up the phylactery to the dying sunlight. "I'm not quite sure how much Varric's 'Tale of the Champion' is true, but I'm quite certain I could give the Pirate Queen a few lessons in brothels."

"Isabela?" Cullen asked. He hadn't read the book--living Kirkwall had been enough--but he doubted anyone could give Isabela competition. "I'm afraid that's one battle you won't win."

Dorian didn't say anything, instead he only offered Cullen a strained smile as he handed the pendant back to the Templar. "You should be glad you met me at this moment, Commander. I'm an absolute delight and more than happy to listen to you should you need it of me. Though if I need to remind how it was an accident one more time, I fear I will need to take drastic measures."

"Drastic measures?" Cullen asked with a raised eyebrow. It wasn't much, but Dorian even listening seemed to ease some of his melancholy.

Dorian hummed in his throat in agreement. "A little birdy told me that your war room meetings are less war related and more tease the Commander of the Inquisition related." The mage's smile morphed slowly into a wicked grin and Cullen could swear he saw his peace of mind flit away before his very eyes. "Sounds interesting."

"No," Cullen said, his voice firm. "Absolutely not."

"Wonderful! I'm glad you agree that it was an accident, then." Dorian stood and dusted off the back of Cullen's cloak, picking at the fur to get it free from dust. "Now, I'm off to Herald's Rest to speak with Lavellan before our departure tomorrow and if you would like, Selene is waiting for you in the murder chamber they've stolen away to."

"Departure?" Cullen asked as he stood with Dorian.

The look of disbelief on Dorian's face made Cullen feel small. "Departure. Halmashiral? Winter Palace? I assume you've been extensively debriefed about it?"

"Maker's breath," Cullen muttered. Halamshiral. Of course they were leaving to Halamshiral tomorrow. He'd been dreading the day ever since Josephine and Leliana brought it up all those months ago, nearly as much as Lavellan had been dreading it. They'd been practicing court mannerisms for Andraste's sake! "I try not to think about it."

"Yes, well, you should consider it as my parents will be accompanying us and we will be forced to spend time with the inner circle. I was rather hoping you had a plan."

"Many plans, none of which would actually work. Lavellan and I have tried." And they had. Hours spent trying to think of another way to ensure Celene's survival, but there was nothing for it. The threat was going to be at the Palace, so they would have to be at the Palace. "And the courtship?"

There was a hint of redness to Dorian's cheeks as he answered, though the mage answered as if he weren't flustered at all. Nevermind that he didn't look the Commander in the eye and that his hand gestures were grandiose. "We'll simply have to continue on the journey. Surely it was something my father thought of, but no matter. I do, however, intend to be well and truly drunk by that point so with your leave Commander, I will see you in bed."

Dorian left without another word, without looking back at Cullen. The Commander was left in that room, phylactery in hand, wondering what in Andraste's name had just happened. Had he offended Dorian? But the mage looked embarrassed and he was sure that if Cullen had offended him, Dorian would most likely lash back out.

Cullen sighed. It was a five day journey to Halamshiral, they would be there at least three nights, and it would be a five day journey back. That was assuming everything went well. He'd simply have to ask the mage about it later.

It was easy to sneak out of the small hidden room and into the main hall of the keep because Skyhold was already asleep for the most part. The nobles had long since gone to bed and Josephine was most likely at the tavern below. It was easy to get back into the empty pillar room where Selene was sitting. Her back was resting against one of the pillars and she was holding her head in her hands until she heard Cullen's footsteps.

"Cullen!" she shouted and raced towards him. The smaller elf jumped against him, wrapping her arms around his neck without any warning. "I'm so sorry," Selene babbled as Cullen wrapped his arms around the crying Hero of Ferelden. "I wanted to apologize this afternoon but you were gone and I couldn't risk Leliana seeing me and then your mage came by and I'm so sorry."

"Selene-"

"No," Selene said as she pulled away from Cullen a bit. "Let me say this because I've been practicing it all day. I was an ass this morning. The worst kind of an ass. But it was the first time I felt a Silence in so long and I just- I just panicked. I snapped at you and at Dorian and I shouldn't have. I know you're not a Templar and I know you wouldn't have cast a Silence on anyone, let alone the mage you're sleeping with."

"I'm not sleepi-"

"I can feel that you're not on lyrium and I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry that I accused you of it. It doesn't excuse a damn thing, but you're- you're not the man I left in the Circle. You haven't been in a long time. Even when we were writing when you were in Kirkwall, I could tell, you know? And now you're Commander of the Inquisition and whatever else that comes with that lofty title," Selene said and flashed Cullen a teary smile. "But I don't really fucking care about that. You're a good man now. Hell, a great man now. I didn't mean to make you doubt that."

"Dorian talked to you, didn't he?"

"Extensively. There may have been threats on both our parts and I think we singed one another’s robes." Selene ran a hand over the back of her neck in a gesture that seemed oddly familiar to Cullen. "I don't trust Templars, Cullen. Not after a lot of what I saw, but you're not a Templar. I don't think you've been one for a long time."

He couldn't help it, Cullen grabbed Selene and pulled her into a tight embrace. He didn't know why her words made it seem more real than Dorian's. Maybe it was because she knew him as a Templar and as he was now, what he could be now. Just Cullen. Selene hugged back as tight as she could. Or maybe it was that Cullen was safe now in the thought that he wouldn't be losing his oldest friend.

When they finally parted, Selene had tear streaks down her cheeks but a smile tugged at her lips. Cullen offered Selene her phylactery, the one he had been holding the whole time. It was completely engulfed in a blue glow, the glass was nearly hot to Cullen's touch. But Selene shook her head. "Keep it."

Some of Cullen's horror must have shown on his face because Selene began to frantically wave her hands. "No, Maker, I meant to give it to you. I'm doing a terrible job at all of this. I wanted to give it to you, obviously not the way that I did, but I brought it for you. Zevran has one too. He and I, we're trying to find a way to combat the Calling and I don't know where that's going to take us. And I worry about you, and Leliana, and even Alistair because he's king and Maker knows how Ferelden is still standing. But I don't know, I'll feel better if someone knows I'm still alive, and can track me down if something happens. I don't trust Leliana to do not spy things with it, but I know I can trust you with it."

The blue glow in Cullen's hand seemed to grow brighter as he turned his eyes to the apparatus. "I can't," Cullen started, because he couldn't hold onto a phylactery. Not Selene's. Not even for a noble purpose.

"It's alright. Give it to Dorian, I've already talked to him about it. Just don't let him disassemble it because that seems like something he would do."

Cullen chuckled, the image of Dorian trying to recreate the magic without blood flashing in his mind. He slipped the pendant into his pocket and nodded to Selene. He couldn't keep it, but it would give Dorian an excuse to be around Cullen more often hopefully.

"This is all well and good, yes?" Zevran's voice came from somewhere in the shadows. "But I am waiting for you both to passionately embrace. A kiss, at the very least. I am owed after all, and it is a very long trek to this Winter Palace I am told."

The Winter--?

Oh no.

Selene's smirk answered him well enough with an 'Oh yes.’

Chapter Text

The troops were abuzz with preparations the morning of the departure to Halamshiral. Cullen was distinctly reminded of how excited Mia would get when his parents left for the day when they were younger. It had the same possibility for chaos now that all of the inner circle and the advisors were leaving for the Winter Palace.

"Try to keep them in line," Cullen told Rylen as he inspected the troops for a final time. "All else fails just have them clean up the keep."

"Understood, Commander," Rylen said with a wide grin. "Have fun dancing with the nobles. Keep that ‘Vint with you, but don't do anything Andraste wouldn't condone. Marriage and all that, ser."

"Come again, Knight-Captain? It sounded like you want to run drills with the newest recruits."

"I'm just saying, ser. Either he'll keep you presentable in front of the nobles or he'll have you punching one. And I’m looking forward to one of those."

Cullen chuckled and clasped Rylen on the shoulder. "Just keep Skyhold standing while we're gone."

"You got it. I'll make sure the dwarf in the armory doesn't do anything too funny with those runes, either."

Lavellan already made sure to talk to the dwarf this morning, but another word to her wouldn't hurt. Especially when Rylen would at least be in Skyhold for the meantime. Cullen nodded his thanks to his second-in-command and began his descent to the gate where soldiers and servants ran in between carriages of all sorts.

Everyone in the inner circle save for Dorian was already in a carriage, even the Bull who seemed to find sticking his horns out the window of the vehicle hilarious if Sera's uproarious laughter were any indication. The Chargers and Harding were also invited as bodyguards, though they wouldn't be forced to head into Halamshiral proper. Cullen's inspection of the troops that morning made it so he was late in arriving to the gates. By the time he got there, the members of the inner circle were safely tucked away.

If anyone were to ask, Cullen would claim it was a complete accident of timing on his part.

Dorian waited at the edge of the stairs, dressed in his traveling gear with Cullen's cloak still about his shoulders. The mage's arms were folded as he watched his parents order about the servants to ready their incredibly Tevinter looking carriage.

"Good morning, Dorian," Cullen said as he came to stand beside him. Dorian turned his gaze towards the Commander, amusement flitting in those gray eyes as he looked over Cullen. How Dorian turned his mussed hair and moustache, the proof of which Cullen saw that morning, into the immaculate appearance before him in such a short time was baffling. It took Cullen far too long to manage his hair and he didn't even need to worry about lining his eyes in kohl.

"Ah, Commander! How are you this morning? My mother and father have been trying to convince me to ride in their carriage, but the lady Inquisitor and Ambassador extended us the invitation to ride in theirs. Rather fortuitous."

Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck and looked away from Dorian. "Actually, I was uh-" Why was he having trouble talking to Dorian now? As if he had anything left that the mage didn't know about. Instead, Cullen pointed toward the stables where Jim was walking towards him and Dorian, Cullen's bay horse in tow. "Small spaces," Cullen said by way of explanation as he took the reins from Jim.

Either Dorian understood Cullen's small message or he didn't want to delve further in the ex-Templar's life than he already had. "In that case, would you mind fetching my horse for me?" Dorian asked Jim. The courier nodded and dashed off to bridle and saddle Dorian's horse.

"Dorian, you don't hav-"

"As if you're going to send me into the carriage without you with those two gossiping hens," Dorian says with a put upon grimace that was more smile than irritation. "I'd rather be saddle sore than clucked at. And Maker help this Inquisition if I am forced to ride in my parents' carriage."

"They will be upset," Cullen pointed out.

"That I'm spending more time with supposed lover?" Dorian asked with a wicked grin. "I could always tell them we'd be happy to accompany them in the carriage if you prefer."

"We?" Cullen asked with a smirk as he put his foot in stirrup of his horse, Ainslie, and swung over the saddle. "I'm riding outside the carriage to look for ambushes. Your help isn't needed, Ser Pavus. Wouldn't you prefer to ride in the comfort befitting a noble Tevinter?"

"Are you sassing me, Commander?" Dorian asked as he took the reins of his white Imperial Warmblood from Jim. He mounted his horse with a grace born from learning how to ride horses for sport rather than practicality. "I daresay I'm rubbing off on you, and not particularly in the manner I wanted to when I heard we were courting." The mage gave Cullen a lewd wink as he kicked his horse into a trot, dashing away to the Inquisitor's carriage.

Maker's breath, but the mental image Dorian left him with would make it uncomfortable to ride in a saddle.

Cullen nudged Ainslie into a trot after Dorian. Josephine shot him an unimpressed stare and reminded Cullen that if he were not in the carriage by the time they arrived in Halamshiral, they would have words. Lavellan just looked between him and Dorian and waited until the mage turned away before shooting Cullen a thumbs up and pointing to Dorian's turned back.

Cullen rolled his eyes and kicked Ainslie into a canter to the front of the caravan. Lavellan meant well but Cullen was trying to woo Dorian into courting him, not woo him into bed. The courting they were doing was false, but Cullen wanted to--needed to--see if Dorian held any affection for him outside these rituals. Anything more than that would be later. Far later.

The gate opened before the caravan and a few soldiers took the lead on horseback, Dorian and Cullen behind them, and the six or so carriages behind them, flanked by soldiers. If Lavellan had her way, she would be riding her hart along with the soldiers. But Cullen convinced Josephine to allow him to ride horseback only with Cassandra's help. That Dorian was allowed to accompany him was mostly for the four women carriage to gossip and giggle about, if Cullen had to guess.

Honestly, Cullen wasn't sure if it was preferable to sit in a carriage with Dorian's parents or the carriage holding Cassandra, Josephine, Leliana, and Lavellan. He didn't need the women to push Dorian into his lap or any other such nonsense.

"How are you feeling this morning, Commander?" Dorian asked as he brought his horse close to Cullen. The pair of them were far enough away from the soldiers and the caravan to not be overheard, though some of the soldiers kept sending them curious looks.

"Better, thank you." Cullen was surprised that it wasn't a lie. At any rate, enough had happened in the last few days that he should have scared Dorian far away. But still, the mage stayed. It was a testament to Dorian being fond of Cullen or bearing through it all because of how much he hated his parents.

How many days into their courtship were they? Cullen counted the days in his mind. Less than a week. Less than a week had passed and already Cullen had attacked Dorian and bared his soul to him in the same breath.

"We missed yesterday's ritual," Cullen said in realization. They'd passed six days, but only five rituals. There must not have been any rules against it or Halward would already have his son in the carriage and off to Minrathous without another word. "What did we miss?"

"Still favorites, of a sort," Dorian said at Cullen's side. "An introduction to the intended's closest people. 'Proximi mei, meum fundamentum.' The idea is the people you associate with serve as your foundation. However, in Tevinter, it's more often used for a 'Look at the powerful people I can introduce you to. Fall into my bed now.'"

Cullen smiled at Dorian's falsetto, the mage imitating someone or another. "We'll have to do the step, along with today's, I assume."

"Why in Andraste's name would we need to do that?" Dorian asked with a wide smile. "I've already introduced you to my favorite person. But if I must do it again, then may I introduce myself? Dorian Pavus, most recently of Minrathous and most handsome man of the Inquisition. Charmed, Commander."

"I will unseat you from that horse," Cullen threatened with a fond roll of his eyes.

"So barbaric! Is violence your answer to everything?"

"Is deflection yours?"

Dorian threw his head back and laughed, a quick bark of laughter he couldn't seem to reign in. It was a glorious sound, unbridled and true where everything else about Dorian was covered with so many masks that Cullen didn't know how to begin to uncover him. The soft look the mage sent him was pure amusement and fondness and were it not for being on horseback or the onlooking soldiers, Cullen would have soundly kissed Dorian without hesitation.

How glorious it would be, Cullen thought, to have no concern over who is watching him as he cups the back of Dorian's head and runs his scarred lips over the mage's. How glorious it will be to be unconcerned with his affections.

"Touché, Commander," Dorian said. "I suppose, if one must pick favorite people, that I've grown rather fond of this Inquisition, its Herald, and its advisors."

Cullen maneuvered the reins in his hands, the fingers of his left hand trailing over the gem of the ring on his right in a way the ensured Dorian would see the motion. Even if he didn't, the flare of Dorian's magic would at least alert him that Cullen had activated the spell on the ring. "I suppose I can say the same of the Inquisition."

Dorian turned his head away from Cullen, hand running over his moustache, his rings glinting in the sunlight. "Some of them more than others."

Tell him, dear Maker above, Rutherford, don't be a coward.

"Cassandra's lovely, especially at her morning call," Cullen teased back. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but Dorian didn't seem disappointed with his answer. Instead, it was a look of relief that washed over Dorian's face as he looked back to the Commander.

"Well, no one ever accused you of good taste. Though I would like to see how your sister would take to knowing she is not your favorite. Mia, isn't it? I'm sure I could bribe the good Spymaster into allowing me a raven to deliver Mia a message. Maker knows those ravens owe me."

"Don't even think of it."

"We’ll get all the women in your life in one spot. Utterly delightful."

"Dorian."

"Imagine all the stories I might hear of your escapades in youth. You were either a terror of a child or a saint. Did you start your knight in shining armor tendencies early? The damsels you must have saved."

"Your mother is a short distance away," Cullen reminded Dorian. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled to tell me of your youth."

"The Commander plays dirty!" Dorian exclaimed with a smile. He was loud enough to draw back the attention of a few soldiers. "Very well, I will resist the urge to contact your sister. Though I must warn you, it is a tempting thought. Hearing of a young Cullen Stanton Rutherford is nearly worth the embarrassment of my mother's ludicrous tales. And make no mistake, Commander, they would be complete lies."

"A story for a story, then?"

The pair passed the rest of the day exchanging stories of how Cullen had accidentally adopted a horde of cats when he was nine and how Dorian had nearly set the Archon's advisor's house aflame when he came into his magic. Despite the hours they sat on horseback with minimal breaks, Cullen only barely recognized his soreness. If Dorian was feeling sore at all, Cullen didn't know. Dorian didn't complain about it in the least.

The company hadn't made it as far as they'd hoped the first night. It was still a few hours ride away to the nearest inn and they would risk too much to ride in the dark. So when the sun began to set, no one truly had any complaints about camping in the wilderness. Even the resident Magisters had their accompanying servants throw a decadent tent up for them to sleep under. Cullen wasn't positive, but he thought he saw an entire mattress disappear into the tent.

The soldiers set up the tents for themselves and the inner circle, working with an efficiency born of being part of the military in some form or another. Cullen overlooked and helped where able, but the soldiers had a system all their own and Cullen was more of a burden than a help. Dorian was already in conversation with the Inquisitor, despite it seeming like Lavellan wasn't listening. Instead, she was glaring rather vehemently at the carriage.

"I hate carriages," she muttered, just within earshot of Cullen as he came to help the women unload their belongings from the ornate and large carriage. It would easily hold eight large men and had a multitude of horses leading it. It all seemed a bit ridiculous to Cullen but Josephine assured him it would send just the right message to the Orlesian royalty.

"I'm riding a horse tomorrow with Dorian and Cullen," Lavellan said determinedly as she rounded on her lover. Josephine looked entirely unaffected by the tirade as she sighed.

"You don't have a horse to ride," Josephine said. "We've discussed this, Inquisitor."

"The next time we pass a stable, you're helping me pick out a horse, Dorian."

"You cannot simply buy a horse at will!" Josephine protested.

"Sure I can. Who's in charge of our treasury? Varric!" Lavellan called to the passing dwarf as he unpacked a few of his belongings. "You're in charge of the treasury for the time being. I need to make a very important Inquisition related purchase tomorrow."

"Sure thing, your Inquisitorialness."

"See? It's settled."

"It is most certainly not settled!"

"Hey," Bull called as the two women bickered, Josephine slipping into some Antivan and Lavellan peppering her words with Elvehen. "Cullen. Vint. Help us get this fire going, will ya? Too early to head to bed so we're all going to drink till it is. Well, most of us."

"Oh thank the Maker," Dorian said as he waved his hand in the direction of the kindling. A roaring fire erupted with a noticeable aplomb. "Someone thought to bring liquor."

"Brought enough to drown the lot of Orlesians," Krem said as he moved a cask of something near the fire. "Make it count."

Blankets were laid out around the fire and Cassandra, Varric, Bull, Sera, Harding, and Leliana eventually made it to the gathering as well. Lavellan pouted with her head on Dorian's lap, Krem and Harding passed around the alcohol, and Varric regaled Sera, Bull, and even Leliana with a tale of Kirkwall that was complete bullshit but entertaining.

Everyone was silent on Dorian's and Cullen's faux courtship for almost exactly ten minutes.

"So how's the Vint in bed?" Bull asked Cullen.

Maker's breath.

"Are you looking for pointers?" Dorian asked around his glass of wine. "We don't have enough night left for me to teach a class."

"I just don't understand," Lavellan interrupted whatever Bull was about to say. "I thought our love was eternal, Dorian. We could have courted instead, but you chose a Fereldan." The word was said with an extra amount of faux vehemence as Lavellan fixed Cullen with a glare.

Dorian hummed in his throat and continued to run his fingers through Lavellan's hair. "I do think your lady Ambassador would be most put out. But you didn't offer. The good Commander did."

"If I'd known it was on the table when I saw you with your parents, I would have."

"Regardless," Leliana said from across the fire. "We are happy that you're still here, Dorian."

"Thank you," Dorian said with a tip of his glass in Leliana's direction. "I'm rather happy to still be here as well. I must admit that I expected more interference from my parents."

Nearly all of the inner circle looked at one another in a way that said Dorian and Cullen were missing out on something. "What?" Cullen asked.

"You didn't think we'd sit by, right?" Harding asked. She sat closer to Krem than was socially acceptable but no one called her out on it. Krem and Harding wouldn't be a pair anyone wanted to instigate. "Let you do all the work?"

"We've been running some interference," Varric input. "Keeping them occupied while you guys do whatever lovey thing you're doing. Some of us," Varric said as he shot a look in Bull's direction, "a little better than others."

"Yeah, yeah," Bull grumbled. "I tried, alright? How was I supposed to know what she'd do?"

"Wait," Sera said as she rolled closer to Bull to poke him. "Who did what now? No one told me there was a story. Can't just be keeping things all to yourselves."

"Passing out drunk makes you miss all the good stories, Buttercup," Varric said. "Bull here asked Dorian's mom if she'd heard the good word of the Qun."

Dorian burst into laughter, his entire body shook as he turned his head to shield his face from on lookers. Cullen saw the mage's shoulders tremble as he fought to take in more air. Bull mumbled as he crossed his arms, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up mage boy." Dorian laughed nearly a minute more, his breath coming in wheezes. When he finally turned back to the inner circle, he had tear streaks staining his cheeks and his kohl was smudged. With an expert hand, he dabbed under his eyes and made himself mostly presentable.

Maker, but the man was gorgeous.

"Ah, thank you for that, Bull. Truly."

"Right. Great story there, dwarf," Sera said.

"My mother, Magister Lucretia Pavus," Dorian continued, "is Tevinter's leading expert in foreign conflict resolutions with a specialty in inter-religious studies."

"You're making up words again."

"Means she knows more about the Qun than I know about the Qun," Bull said. "She invited me to tea."

Sera cackled, "Vint showed you up at your game!"

"Look, can't we just go talking about the Vint's and Commander's sex life?"

"More details the better. It's all going in the book," Varric said.

"There is no book," Cullen said with force. "Or I'll show Cassandra the first draft of 'The Tale.'"

Varric lifted his hands in surrender and backed off. "Whoa, hey, whatever you want, Curly."

"What's in the first draft?" Cassandra asked with growl.

"Nothing but flattery, I promise you! But we were talking about their courtship, not threatening the dwarf."

"Hate to break it to you," Krem said. "It's all tame past the first step. You're on what? Step seven? Just talking and showing off hobbies. Chance for the Magisters to show how smart and bloody rich they are. Bet you took polo when you were younger, huh?"

"No, they rather take offense when you freeze over the grounds, apparently," Dorian replied. "A pity, the sport was much more fun on ice."

Krem snorted and raised his mug in Dorian's direction. Cullen didn't have any idea what this polo was, but Dorian seemed to not like it for one reason or another. They hadn't discussed hobbies in their ride today, which meant they only had a few more hours to complete the step if they didn't want to fall behind again. Dorian, for his part, seemed unconcerned with it. If it were just a discussion, then it could wait until they made it into their tent.

Their tent. Maker, but that would be a cause for teasing in the morning.

"Wait, wait, you're telling me that Tevinter courtships rituals are just a series of questions?" Lavellan asked as she raised herself from Dorian's lap. "Josie, I thought you said it was romantic."

"It is! And some of the questions get more...personal in nature. The first questions are simply to see if you are compatible. After all, what if during 'proximi mei, meum fundamentum,' you find out your intended has befriended a rival to your house? Or during 'id quod eram dimisi ut fierem quod sum' you find out you shared a past lover!"

"Impressive Tevene, milady," Dorian said. Josephine blushed a bright red as she smiled at the charming Tevinter. "But yes, the first half or so of the steps are terribly mundane."

"What's stopping all of us from doing it, then? I mean, if this whole pratty lordy courtship thing is official, then can't we all just court Dorian?" Sera asked.

Dorian coughed, "Ah, while I than-"

"She's right," Leliana said with a smirk. "The first step is to move in to the same home, but I'm sure we could convince any court that Skyhold in its whole is one home."

"Look, I like Sparkler too, but I'm not pushing any beds together. No offense, Curly."

"We can work on that one later, figure it out. What's the next step?" Lavellan asked Dorian excitedly.

Dorian seemed completely overwhelmed. He gaped at the surrounding inner circle members who were all gazing at him in anticipation. He looked over to Cullen in askance and all the Commander did was shrug. If they could get it to work, then why not try it? It would, at the very least, ensure without a doubt that Dorian would stay in Skyhold.

Though then he wouldn't truly have an excuse to court Dorian anymore. But perhaps it would be for the best. Then he could court Dorian with no pretenses, no lies. If he ever managed to ask the mage.

"Past claims," Dorian said finally. "Any past lovers."

The words were barely out of Dorian's mouth and everyone in tandem swung their gaze to Cullen. He rolled his eyes at the new found attention and sighed. Of course there would be an ulterior motivation. Not that Cullen doubted that the inner circle didn't want Dorian to leave, but the rumor of Cullen's past lover certainly factored into their decision.

It was only with Cullen's Templar training that he felt Dorian flare his magic out, something most mages did in warning to a threat. Or a signal to an ally. Cullen shot Dorian an exasperated look.

Please, don't.

The mage replied with a shrug and a raised eyebrow. Why Commander, I'm sure I have no idea what you're on about. That Cullen could practically hear the mage's response from a mere glance at the man should be worrying.

"Is this really that important?" Cullen asked.

"Hey, we just want to know if you need some tips in bed with the Vint," Bull said.

"He's fine on the sex," Selene said as she stepped into the firelight with Zevran. How she evaded Leliana's spies and stay so close to the camp was something Cullen would rather not know lest he be implicated. She squeezed in between Dorian and Cullen, kissing Dorian on the cheek first before kissing Cullen's. "At least, he was when we were in the Circle. Perfect, actually. But I'm being rude, I'm Selene Surana and I brought you a gift." Selene handed a bottle of Antivan brandy over to Lavellan who took it weakly without a word.

"Selene!" Leliana shouted as she ran to tackle the elf. The Bull let out a loud laugh and thumped Cullen too roughly on the back while Varric silently handed Cullen some of the good liquor he'd stashed away. "Where in Andraste's name have you been?"

"It's good to see you too, Leliana. Here and there, at any rate. Figured out this Corypheus of yours might have a bit to do with the Calling. So we thought we'd come see if you had any information to share. Then it seemed like you all wanted to find out about Cullen's and mine past sex life, so we stuck around."

"Ah, Leliana, my beautiful Orlesian rose, how the cold does you wonders," Zevran said as he took Leliana's hand and kissed her knuckles. "And of course it is good to see you again, my friends. Though I am sad to interrupt this talk of your sex, yes? I must admit, I have been curious as to how your love-making was progressing."

"Oh no," Dorian said, "I'm more interested in this 'perfect' that Selene was going on about. Do continue, milady."

"Tell me you were a gentleman," Cassandra warned from across the fire.

"You knew they were here!" Leliana shouted, punching Cullen in the shoulder. "Yet you said nothing!"

"I didn't think I needed to tell our Spymaster," Cullen said as he rubbed at the spot that Leliana hit. "And I've known only a few days."

"How long have you been in Skyhold?"

"About a week."

"A week?!"

The group sat and talked for hours, luckily very little of it about Cullen's sex life. Selene kept the group enraptured of tales of her taking on the Blight, as well as stories of Leliana. The drinks continued to flow as Krem and Harding kept everyone well supplied. Lavellan kept looking at the bottle of Antivan brandy in fascination before she opened it to share with Zevran and Dorian. Cassandra glared at Cullen murderously. Sera and Bull eyed Selene appreciatively, something the elf didn't seem to notice at all. Zevran did however, and winked at the onlookers to Sera's disgust and Bull's smirk.

The night drew on and Josephine retired to her tent with Lavellan not far behind. The company around the campfire began to disperse, Dorian leaving the company before Cullen. He gave the Commander a smile as he nodded his head towards their tent before getting up and walking far straighter than Cullen would have thought considering how much he had to drink.

Cullen waited until Krem got up to retire to his tent, the Tevinter watching wistfully as Harding went to her tent in the opposite direction. The Commander excused himself from the group who were more or less ignoring him in their drunken stupor. "Krem!" he called as he got a decent distance away from the others. "Do you have a moment?"

"What do you need, Commander?"

"I was uh- Could you teach me a few phrases in Tevene?"

Krem gave Cullen a knowing look. So it wasn't the most transparent of plans, but Cullen trusted Krem to be discrete and he really had no one else willing to teach him any of the language. There were four Tevinters in the hold, two of them actively working against his courtship, one who he was courting, and Krem. To say his options were limited put it mildly.

"Sure, Commander. What'd you want to know?"

Cullen followed Krem into his tent where the Tevinter went over a few phrases, patient in his teaching as he led Cullen through the sounds. Cullen knew a bit of Tevene already. Kirkwall had enough slavers running around that it was pertinent information, but the phrases he wanted to know now were only slightly different.

"I can teach you more tomorrow, Commander," Krem said. "Can't think of other phrases, but I'll let you know if anything comes to mind."

"I'd appreciate it Krem, and if you would-"

"Between you and I, Commander. Anyone finds out you're learning Tevene, won't be from me."

"Thank you, Krem," Cullen said with a sigh of relief. "I'll let you sleep."

"Talk to you tomorrow, Commander."

By the time Cullen passed the campfire once more, not a conscious soul was around it. Bull and Sera were sprawled out drunk on the blankets and Zevran and Selene were curled up together atop another. Everyone else retired to their tents at some point or another.

Dorian was asleep as Cullen entered the tent, already in his sleep clothes and sprawled over most of the makeshift mattress on the ground. Cullen dressed quickly, not wanting to risk Dorian waking to the sight. Nevermind that the mage had already seen him half naked the prior two days. That was...different.

Dorian stirred when Cullen laid next to him, gently pushing the mage over to a proper side instead of the whole of the bedding. Dorian grumbled as he shifted over at Cullen's prompting. "So demanding in bed," he mumbled.

"I'm not even sure I'm properly in the bed yet," Cullen teased back. "There's not enough of it left to hold me."

"Be witty when I'm more awake, hm?" But Dorian shift over to his side, opening his eyes when Cullen finally made it into the bed. "I hope I didn't upset you with signaling Selene."

Cullen chuckled as he brought the blankets around himself. "She wanted to startle Leliana. She couldn't have done it better. Did you plan it?"

"Not the specifics, no, but we did plan if I saw an opportunity to alert her. A more perfect lead in I can’t imagine."

"I suppose that's true," Cullen said. "What of the Inquisition courting you?"

"I'm flattered, truly, but this bed is barely big enough for you and I and despite their best intentions, the first step is quite literal. But that they care enough to want to do it is quite...unexpected. But that does remind me we've yet to do the next step," Dorian said as he sat up. His voice raised at the last bit and Cullen thought it best to leave the topic of the inner circle courting him to rest for now. Dorian's deflection wasn't quite as clean as normal which spoke either for his fatigue or his unwillingness to speak of the topic. "I suppose the only thing I can claim as a hobby is reading. Terribly dull, don't mean to disappoint you."

"Considering you practically live in the library, I wouldn't expect anything less."

"And you, Commander? Tell me it's something terribly Fereldan. You love raising mabari puppies or battling half naked in the mud."

"You think Fereldans fight half naked in mud? Really?"

"Hush, leave me to my fantasies. You're certainly strapping enough. We could sell tickets."

Cullen rolled his eyes. "And you're sure none of the other members could court you?"

"Would you let them, though? I can't imagine your knight in shining armor complex would allow you."

"I think you would be surprised."

Dorian laughed and curled into the bed further, just a touch closer to Cullen. This time, Cullen didn't have the soldiers or being on horseback to explain away his hesitation to reach out to the mage. Only him and his cowardice. He was inches away from Dorian and it felt like miles. Cullen didn’t hide his fondness for Dorian and yet, the mage made no move either. Dorian flirted, as he was wont to do with everyone, but surely Dorian would make the first move.

"Fine, fine, I apologize. Your hobby then, Ser Rutherford?"

"I don't mean to disappoint you but, chess."

"Of course it is.”

Chapter Text

Lavellan was an impatient woman, as anyone who's spent five minutes in her presence can attest to. Despite her promise to Josephine to wait until the next town over, she simply did not get back in the carriage come morning. Instead, she mounted Dorian's horse behind him, hands wrapped about his waist. Dorian voiced no complaints and instead raised an eyebrow at Lavellan, a smile gracing his lips.

Somehow that meant that Josephine herself could not be in the carriage. No, certainly not. Cullen himself was less than thrilled about his Antivan riding partner, her silken-clad arms wrapped around his plate mail.

"And what if any of our supporting nobles saw you, hm?" Josephine asked as the company moved forward. "To have the Inquisitor riding about like some commoner?"

"Just tell them I'm marrying Dorian," Lavellan said to her irritated lover. No one brought up what the nobles would think if they saw the Ambassador riding on horseback with Cullen. Despite Josephine's barrage of nagging, they all seemed to know better than broach that subject with the woman. Nor the fact that Lavellan was, in all honesty, a commoner.

"Autumn wedding," Dorian added. "I look much better in warmer tones, don't you think?"

"I was thinking spring. Dalish bondings are typically done in the spring."

Dorian gave a disgusted noise that Cassandra would be proud of were she not in the carriage. As she should be, Cullen thought bitterly. "If I so much as glance at a pastel egg, the entire farce is off. Why you Southerners think that the spring equinox has anything to do with painted eggs is beyond me. Tell me you don't eat the Blighted things, at least."

"Oh no," Lavellan responded. "As if we'd eat Solas. Too thin, not enough meat."

Dorian gave a bark of laughter and Josephine shook from behind Cullen, her chest convulsing against his back as she stifled her own laughter. Cullen didn't think he even cracked a smile.

Two hours. It had been two hours and while Cullen loved the Inquisitor and Josephine as if they were his sisters, he could have had today alone with Dorian. He'd not expected to when they set off on this trip, what with his disinclination towards small spaces, but it'd been given to him. To have his chance snatched away after only a day was maddening.

How Cullen was going to survive the trip to Halamshiral with the bickering lovers at his and Dorian's backs was beyond him.

The idea of running into the woods for firewood and not returning was appealing to him more and more with every word spoken. Honestly, no one would fault him for it. Maker above, he could even take half the damn soldiers with him and claim it was for a training exercise and they'd simply lost the map. More than a few of the soldiers would probably thank him for it.

Once night fell, Cullen settled in to the tent the moment the soldiers put the damn thing up. Dorian stayed behind at the fire for another hour before joining Cullen, despite the fact that the gathering was still going on.

"Speaking of our nonexistent sex-life is somehow far less entertaining without you to blush there about it," Dorian said with a grin. He motioned for Cullen to turn so he could change into his heavy sleep clothes. "But today's step. Tell me, Commander, what's your favorite trait in a suitor?"

"Silence," Cullen said with an irritated huff to Dorian's laughter.

The next day, Lavellan and Josephine purchased their own horses and rode behind Dorian and Cullen. Cullen had assumed--incorrectly--that this meant that he and Dorian would have the ride to themselves again.

Instead, Lucretia Pavus took a horse from her own carriage and rode beside Dorian and Cullen, looking every bit a piece of Tevinter nobility as she rode sidesaddle, back straight and proud. She was pleasant throughout the ride, making small talk with the grace a Lady should have.

Cullen loathed her all the more for it.

"Tell me boys, how is the courtship going?" Lucretia asked with a kind smile. "I imagine Dorian is a dreadful bedfellow. When he was younger, he would get the worst nightmares about--what were they, Dorian? Oh yes--the jesters at the street fairs. Ghastly masks and make-up. Most of the children were frightened terribly of them. Dorian would rush into my bed and proceed to nearly kick me off in his sleep. Never mind that the bed was nearly as big as a room and he was quite a small child, Ser Rutherford."

"Mother?" Dorian asked in a strained voice. "I'm sure the Commander doesn't want to hear any of this."

"Actually, I do," Cullen responded with a smile. The glare that Dorian shot him was impressive, but Cullen couldn't honestly pass up a chance to hear of a small Dorian. Lucretia continued on about Dorian's childhood. The Altus was every bit of a terror as a child as Cullen suspected him to be, getting into more fist-fights than Cullen expected any mage to get in, let alone a noble one. Dorian had trained in fencing, at the behest of his mother, and it made him more than a worthy opponent in the fights. Apparently, hand-to-hand was looked down upon by the Tevinter masses which didn't surprise Cullen in the least.

Dorian informed Cullen that he still practiced, a fact that made Cullen blush for no reason at all. It certainly wasn't because Cullen had admired the physique that fencing had gifted Dorian.

Dorian was not so quick to join Cullen in the tent that night, but he eventually came in with a half-hearted glare.

"Tell me the ninth day is fears," Cullen said with a grin when they were finally tucked away in their tent.

Dorian hit him in the head with a pillow. "Do not think I won't kick you out of this bed, Commander. What would your soldiers think? Their fearsome Commander sleeping outside the tent on the ground?"

"You do a good job of kicking me out of the bed by simply sleeping."

The second blow to the head with a pillow was a bit less kind. The ninth day was not fears, it was a favored memory of the past. "Mine," Dorian said, "was exactly five seconds before I agreed to this courtship."

"Mine was five seconds after," Cullen replied with a smile. The blush on Dorian's cheeks was worth his stammering.

Cullen hated Dorian. Truly, honestly, with every fiber of his being, hated Dorian.

"Lady Selene!" Dorian called to the elf the second that he and Cullen walked out of their tent. "Would you do us the honor of riding with us today?"

Selene took one look at Cullen's horrified expression and agreed with a smirk. "My dear Lord Dorian, it would be my absolute honor."

"I apologize for yesterday, Dorian," Cullen said in a rush as Selene fetched her halla.

"Apology accepted, Commander," Dorian said with his own smirk. "Unfortunately for you, I've never been known for being a kind man."

Cullen suspected that the agony of that day was far worse than anything he'd face at Halamshiral. Selene rode with Zevran on her hart close enough to Dorian to exchange tales of Cullen's days at the Circle.

Which she did. At length. For hours.

"He did not!" Dorian exclaimed with a laugh and a smile in Cullen's direction.

"He did! Plate mail and all! You wouldn't believe a man could run that fast in plate mail but Maker above, he outran me by a long shot."

It was Cullen's turn to stay about the campfire until Krem and Bull started to sing bawdy tavern songs, Varric joining in when he knew the words. Sera made up her own words and pretended that they were the real ones.

"Turnabout is fair play," Dorian told him as they threw the covers over themselves. "Now!" Dorian said with a clap of his hands. "What's your most reviled memory?"

"Five seconds after you agreed to this courtship," Cullen told him with a straight face.

"So fickle, Commander."

Cullen didn't feel even a little bad about pushing the laughing mage out of the bedroll and onto the dirt.

It was half a day's ride to the inn just outside of Halamshiral where they would meet the tailors and soldiers outfitted to help them prepare for the night. While the ball itself was only to last the night, the Inquisition had been invited to spend three days in Halamshiral proper. Lavellan was trying to figure out a way to politely decline but hadn't thought of any yet. Should worse come to worse, Cullen just assumed they would be firmly escorted out of the Winter Palace's gates.

"You look as if a fissure has opened up before you and darkspawn are clawing their way up," Dorian remarked as they rode on to the inn. Josephine allowed the company to ride horseback to the inn's stable and not a single inch further.

Cullen winced. He would have to look like he was at least tolerating the Winter Palace tonight, despite all realities. "The Lady Ambassador and Spymaster speak of The Game as if it were a battlefield, but it's nothing like any skirmish I've been in."

"It wouldn't be but it is a battlefield nonetheless, simply one that employs different weapons. Whispers and rumors, sly glances, and nondescript answers. It's all very pretentious when every player wants to gut one another. I've always thought a gladiator-style ring would liven the parties up."

Cullen snorted, glad to hear of at least one player who recognized The Game for what it was. It wasn't hard to forget that Dorian was a creature of the court, but it was hard to remember at the same time. He spoke like his mother, but the topics were like Sera's. He walked like Vivienne, but slouched like the Bull. The court was in everything Dorian did and absent in it as well.

There was no such conflict for the ex-Templar. Cullen had only ever been taught to fight with swords, faith, and--admittedly--a bit of self-righteousness. Words and rumors were beyond him unless they affected the morale of his troops. Even then, he dealt with them with the grace of a blacksmith's hammer.

"Stick with the Lady Ambassador and you will have nothing to worry about. I would tell you to stay close to me but...." Dorian didn't need to finish the sentence. Not only would Dorian be working closely with Lavellan the entirety of the night, he was also a Tevinter mage. Not someone the Orlesian masses would wish to make friends with at any rate and certainly not someone he should be seen close to. "Though it would be marvelously entertaining at your side. A veritable lion facing the Orlesian house-cats with leonine masks? At least revel in the knowledge that you could rend their flesh from their bones, hm?"

"A bit bloodthirsty, Dorian."

"But on par with what they'll be thinking of doing to you. They'll simply place a few words in a few key ears and soon you'll find yourself on the streets, the forgotten Commander of the once mighty Inquisition."

"And you? Where would you be?" Cullen asked as they approached the inn, feeling a bit sicker to his stomach than he did earlier if that were at all possible.

"With you of course," Dorian replied. "Pariah-hood suits me, I've found."

The rest of the Inquisition did not fare any better than Cullen mentally. The laughter of Sera and Bull was slightly too loud, Varric's voiced carried across the wind as his lies became more and more ridiculous, and even Josephine grew silent about her lover's disinclination to ride in a carriage.

Lucretia and Halward Pavus were the only two who seemed relatively unaffected by the impending masquerade. They ate breakfast silently but civilly with the inner circle in the morning, they sat in their carriage for the ride to the inn, and they exited their carriage looking as irritated about the whole affair as when they'd entered it.

"Relax there, Curly," Varric said when they entered the inn. It took only ten seconds for Bull, Dorian, Zevran, and Sera to accost the barkeep for liquor, any liquor. "Just st-"

"Stand around and look pretty," Cullen finished. "When I feel like hiding and looking terrified."

"Yeah," Varric sighed. "You and me both."

"I hope there will be hats," Cole said as he followed Varric to the bar, though the dwarf only let the spirit-turned-human drink a bit of wine.

"I expect everyone to be sober when we arrive at the ball!" Josephine exclaimed to the patrons of the inn. Cullen wasn't sure what strings had to be pulled and when, but the only people inhabiting the inn were the Inquisition and its vendors. "The preparations will take two hours, not a second more! Cassandra, Lavellan, Leliana, follow me."

The women were followed by a retinue of tailors, each carrying a piece of fabric more garish than the former. There were boots of some Dalish fashion and Cullen estimated that Lavellan would wear them half a second after Josephine averted her gaze and not a moment longer.

A drink was thrust into his face and he took it without much thought. It could be poisoned for all Cullen cared.

...He may even prefer it.

"Don't look so dour," Dorian said as he watched Cullen, hand curled about his own drink. "The nobility will eat you alive if they see that expression on your face."

"Is that a promise?"

"Honestly," Lucretia said as she came to stand beside Dorian, yanking the drink out of his hand. "Have you ever been to a party without an assassination attempt? So much ado about nothing."

"I don't think it's as common in the South as it is in Tevinter, mother," Dorian replied. "Especially when they're trying to stop a civil war."

Lucretia snorted and downed Dorian's drink as quickly as Cullen had seen any soldier drink. The Lady was already dressed in the finest garment that Cullen had ever seen. It was black satin with a gold overlay of five peacock feathers that began at her ankles and wound themselves up to the bodice. The bodice itself was metal and gold in color with peacock feather designs etched into it. Cullen would be surprised if at least a good chunk of the bodice wasn't actual gold. Lucretia rounded out the outfit with her hair down, spirals of gold running through her ringlet hair and a black stole about her shoulders.

"And they expected to do that without a threat on the Empress' life?" The look Lucretia gave him reminded Cullen sharply of Hawke. It was the perfect amount of condescending and holier-than-thou. Cullen followed her lead, downing the rest of his drink.

Maker above, he had Selene, Dorian's parents, and Varric at the ball already. He didn't need to think about Hawke.

"Cullen!" Josephine shouted from down the hall, saving the Commander from dipping into even more unpleasant thoughts. He excused himself hastily and met with Josephine in the dressing room.

Three tailors were upon him the second he stepped through the door, unlacing his shirt and tossing it Maker knows where. He struggled against their hands but finally allowed himself to relax the fifteenth time he was stabbed with a pin.

"I thought this was why they took my measurements," Cullen said through clenched teeth to a fussing Josephine. While the design of the uniform was the same from member to member, the execution was different. Josephine's was red with golden designs swirling throughout the coat and a broach of a golden drake near her collar.

"The uniform must fit, Commander," Josephine said with the mirth of someone enjoying everyone else's pain around her. "Every word, gesture, piece of clothing, these will all be measured and we must be found worthy of approval."

"And if we're not?" Cullen asked, his voice tight as the tailors worked around him. They seemed more than content to ignore him, as if he were simply a training dummy being trussed up.

"We must be," Josephine said forcefully. "There is no other option."

The ride to Halamshiral was brutal. Cassandra sat at Cullen's side in the carriage the entire way and he couldn't decide if her stoic presence was better or worse than being alone. His eyes were cast down the entire way, boring holes into the floor of the carriage. He knew--he knew--the walls were still there, knew they weren't pressing in like his mind tried to convince him. They were white and wooden and sound.

But like all walls, it didn't take long for them to turn blue and transparent and fragile. So terribly fragile.

Lavellan spoke of nonsense the entire ride, rambling on about anything and everything she could think of. Cullen shot her a grateful look when he could manage and Lavellan gave him a knowing smile, her voice never faltering as she spoke of Sera's pranks and Blackwall teaching her how to carve animals in wood.

It was only a few hours Josephine said, and he would have time to compose himself before walking into the Winter Palace's ostentatious gates. But that knowledge didn't help Cullen on the actual trip.

He was here. He was with Lavellan. He could hear her voice and see her if he were to look up.

It was just like the ship ride across the Waking Sea all over again where he slept above deck every night, storms be damned.

The moment that the carriage doors opened, Cullen sprang from the confining space. It wasn't the most dignifying motion Cullen had ever made, but the rest of the inhabitants didn't comment on it. They didn't even acknowledge his departure in any form and he was beyond thankful for it.

Lavellan was riding on in the grand carriage alone, a show of grandeur meant to impress the Orlesians. Leliana was with Zevran and they were trying to find a way to sneak onto the grounds, as if they'd been at the party all along. Josephine was meeting a few of the upper nobility to walk in with. And Cullen?

Well, he just had to stand there and look pretty. Intimidating if he could, but he was little more than a prop in Josephine and Leliana's strategy.

"If it's any consolation, I don't want to be here either," Selene said from his side. She was in Gray Warden armor with her staff ostentatiously strapped to her back as if she were daring the Orlesian Templars to damn her as an apostate.

"You seemed thrilled about it but a week ago."

"Before I knew your Empress spelled her name wrong." If Selene were joking about how irritated she was, she hid her humor well. "Fucking Orlesians. Can we start a Blight so I can recruit her? Would serve her right."

Cullen snorted and straightened up, smoothing down the front of his white uniform. Josephine designed it herself for him, pure white with blue sashes across the chest and waist. The lapel wasn't adorned with Andraste's Sword as Cullen had feared it would be. Instead, Josephine casually handed him a silver pin of an apple tree bearing one lone piece of fruit. Honnleath's symbol.

Cullen didn't have a chance to thank her for it at the inn, caught speechless as she pushed him out of the room to outfit the Bull. He would have to see if he could order her some of those Orlesian chocolates she loved so much before they left Orlais.

"You'll be fine," Selene said. A few soldiers nodded to Cullen to let him know they were ready to depart. The inner circle would arrive a few minutes behind Cullen and his small retinue. Selene would arrive as if she were a separate party altogether, like Dorian's parents. But she would make her support of the Inquisition very apparent, unlike the resident Tevinters.

"Just imagine your hands around all the nobles' throats and you'll be fine," Selene amended.

"You're as bad as Dorian."

Selene looked like she wanted to say something, but the soldiers about Cullen were persistent. Instead, she smiled at the Commander and patted him on the cheek before he marched away with his soldiers.

Cullen had never truly felt much patriotism towards Ferelden. He was Fereldan, of course, but he more or less grew up in the Circle and his loyalty laid with the Templars.

Well, it had lain with the Templars. He supposed he only had loyalty to the Inquisition now, for as long as the Inquisition existed.

But Cullen had never felt more Fereldan than he did at the Winter Palace's gates. They were ornate and golden and completely ridiculous. The masks the nobles wore about the gardens made the players of the Game look like children who were begging for candy on All Fool's Eve. Not to mention the bloody nobles all slipped into Orlesian in their introductions to Cullen, some secret test to see if Cullen knew their language.

He didn't, but he knew enough Tevene that if he wanted to make a scene, he could have. It took more self control than Cullen thought he had to resist, but he managed to be let in to the doors of Halamshiral proper. Lavellan was still in the garden and she'd been joined by a few of the inner circle members, but Cullen didn't have time to see if Dorian was among their ranks.

"My dear Commander Cullen," a nobleman said as soon as Cullen entered the hall. The soldiers around him dispersed, their purpose fulfilled. Cullen had no doubt that they'd all head back to the inn to drink with Krem, Harding, and the rest of the lucky ones who managed to avoid the whole palace. "Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. I am pleased to see you among the Inquisitor's ranks tonight though I did not think she would bring her entire...army."

Cullen bowed deeply, not entirely devoid of manners. "It is an honor, Grand Duke. I understand you're to thank for our invitation."

"I am happy to help the Inquisition, Commander."

So long as he's helped in return.

"But do not let me keep you from the festivities," the Grand Duke continued. "I trust you will preform admirably tonight."

"As always." Cullen didn't know anything about the Game, but he did know how to sound vaguely threatening. Cullen bowed again and made his way to Leliana and Josephine.

"Commander," Josephine said when he was in earshot. "I trust all is going well."

"I haven't started any duels. Have we learned anything?"

"A few secrets," Leliana replied. "But those will be dealt with later."

"So nothing for tonight."

"Not as of yet."

Cullen frowned. The balance of all of Thedas and Corypheus' plan hung on Orlais not falling into a civil war and their plan to thwart that rested on this single night. The one night to get it right.

"Relax, Cullen," Leliana said with a smile. "We haven't even been introduced to the court. The night is long."

"So we hope," Cullen grumbled. At the same time, he hoped desperately for the opposite. He'd only been in the Winter Palace half an hour and he already wanted to leave. He was in for a brutally long night at this pace once he was fed to the Orlesian nobility.

Dorian's parents were already in the hall surrounded by a gaggle of nobles in mask. The Game was the Game, apparently, no matter where you were. Skilled players would always be skilled players, even if they were hated.

The inner circle was scattered about the hall but Lavellan was flanked by her chosen party; Cassandra, Varric, and Dorian.

Dorian was dressed in all black with a gold sash about his waist and chest. He looked the part of a Tevinter prince, regal and cool in comparison to the rest of the party. He smiled at the women as they passed and bowed to the men, always leaving the conversations he had with the nobles as if he were the victor. He very well could have been.

The mage looked about the hall and caught Cullen's gaze. He tipped his glass Cullen's way and Cullen could only nod in response. He hoped that no one would notice the silent conversation between them.

"Come," Josephine said and tugged on Cullen's arm subtly. "We're to be introduced behind the Inquisitor."

Lavellan waited on the steps behind the Grand Duke, the advisors fell in line behind her, and the three party members behind them. The rest of the inner circle were considered guests of the Inquisition, not the Inquisition party proper. It didn't make sense to Cullen, but he took Josephine's word on it.

"Quite dashing, Commander," Dorian said under his breath as Cullen passed him.

Maker above, don't let me blush.

"Introducing Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons," the steward called as the Grand Duke bowed and stepped onto the ballroom floor. "And accompanying him, Lady Inquisitor Lavellan!"

Lavellan stepped down the few stairs and bowed before the court. Cullen could tell she was nervous but hoped that her tics were only visible to her friends.

"Vanquisher of the rebel mages of Ferelden, crusher of the vile apostates of the Mage Underground."

Varric snorted behind Cullen. "This guy writes better fiction than I do."

"Maybe you should take notes," Cassandra replied.

"Champion of the Blessed Andraste Herself."

"Maker above, don't let her hear that," Dorian groaned.

"Accompanying the Inquisitor," the steward continued. "Lady Leliana, Nightingale of the Imperial Court. Veteran of the Fifth Blight. Seneschal of the Inquisition and Left Hand of the Divine."

Leliana walked before the court like she had always been in front of a court. Considering her occupation as a bard, she very well may have. Leliana wasn't exactly forthcoming about her past.

"Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet of Antiva City. Ambassador of the Inquisition."

"Smile, Commander," Dorian whispered as Josephine joined Leliana on the ballroom floor. "It's just walking."

"Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath," the steward called and Cullen took his first steps down. "Commander of the forces of the Inquisition. Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall."

Cullen took a deep breath as he walked towards Josephine, Leliana, and Lavellan.

"Lord Dorian Pavus, Member of the Circle of Vyrantium, son of Lord Halward Pavus of Asariel." Dorian looked irritated at the mention of his father but he walked as regally as any prince towards the Inquisition's party.

"And," the steward continued. "Intended to Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the forces of the Inquisition."

Dorian's steps faltered slightly as he gave Cullen a wide-eyed look. Josephine gasped at Cullen's side. The whispers of the court became louder, almost impolite in its volume and Cullen noticed almost none of this.

Intended?

Chapter Text

"Affianced?!" Dorian hissed to his father. Flames licked up the sides of Dorian's arms, curling about him without any sort of temperance. Cullen had tried to step towards him but Lucretia looped her arms about one of his own and held on firmly. She made it appear as if it were an embrace and not like she was holding Cullen back from interfering in her husband's murder. For all this, it was Lucretia that had enough sense to drag the three men to a secluded balcony and away from the ears of the court. "You told the bloody Orlesian court that the Commander and I are affianced?"

"I merely told the-"

"No!" Dorian shouted as he advanced on Halward. The magister didn't flinch at his son's approach. "No excuses. Tell me, what in Maker's fucking name were you hoping to gain, hm? Because if the dear Commander and I are betrothed then your precious contract is rather fulfilled, isn't it?"

"Your betrothal is no more real than your courtship," Halward spat.

"Then what was the point?!"

Halward said something in Tevene too fast for Cullen to pick up on any of the words. Whatever it was warranted Lucretia releasing the Commander's arm and the fire curling about Dorian to turn purple. Cullen raced towards the two and stepped in between father and son in much the same way he had done on the very first day.

"Dorian," Cullen said, rethinking his desire to reach for Dorian. Cullen wasn't quite sure how much control Dorian had over his fire but considering the color it was, he assumed 'not much.' "Dorian, remember why we're here."

Dorian did not seem like he wanted to remember the assassination attempt they were hoping to thwart. He barely looked away from his father, even with Cullen standing in between the two. Dorian's normal nonchalance was marred with tension and a hatred burning so brightly in his eyes that Cullen nearly stepped away and allowed him to kill his father. It would certainly fix a few problems.

But Dorian would never forgive himself and if this was the only way that Cullen could help Dorian out, then he would happily take a fireball meant for Halward.

"Dorian," Cullen whispered once more. It didn't seem to do much but Cullen swore the glow of the fire dimmed a fraction. "Don't do this."

There was rustling behind Cullen and he heard the balcony door open. "Enjoy the party," Halward said as the door clicked shut as Halward apparently saw himself out but Cullen wasn't looking away from Dorian. If he did then he'd likely start another international crisis by punching the magister in his smug face. Instead, he reached a tentative hand towards Dorian's cheek and the mage turned his head so that he and Cullen finally made eye contact.

Beneath the hatred in Dorian's eyes lingered something that seemed like it was breaking or had broken already. There were cracks in his anger that revealed something that made Cullen's heart ache in his chest.

Dorian didn't let him see those cracks for long. With a flourish and a shout, Dorian gathered the flames at his arms and threw a fireball over the balcony and far beyond the reach of the Winter Palace where hopefully it would hit a Venatori and not an innocent bystander.

"Intended," Dorian spat as he leaned onto the bannister, he weight supported only by his hands pressing firmly into the stone. "Fucking intended."

"Josephine can fix this," Cullen said, though he wasn't quite sure what exactly needed fixing. Everything, probably.

Dorian laughed, the sound hollow and bordering on slightly hysterical. "What in Maker's name could she possibly say, Commander? That the betrothal is a lie? The entire point of us being here is to make sure that the empress is not assassinated and that everyone thinks Lavellan is Andraste's fucking bosom buddy. Divinely appointed, that's what these fucking sycophants need to see us as. Not a merry band of misfits that were outplayed by a damned Tevinter magister."

"I've seen her do more with less," Cullen protested.

"Oh, I've no doubt. The lady Ambassador could have this entire palace at her feet if she wanted. A single rumor? Josephine can turn it in her favor in her sleep." Dorian turned to Cullen, shoulders slumped as he propped his elbows on the bannister behind him. "Accuse my father of being a servant of some old Tevinter god. Or maybe it's just an act of desperation. Some magister clawing for power, simply trying anything he can think of to win favor from the one and only Herald of Andraste."

"Why can she not take care of it then?"

There were a myriad of reasons that Dorian and he should not be engaged, especially as far as The Game went. Cullen wasn't so blind to politics as to not be aware of that. Maker, even if he were only seen conversing with Dorian, it would have major implications. Didn't they just discuss this yesterday?

But affianced...Cullen wasn't as upset about it as Dorian but likely Dorian knew more about how this would affect Lavellan and the Inquisition's standing. It was probably far more terrible than Cullen thought, but if Josephine could fix it, then why shouldn't she?

The smile Dorian gave him was a strange mixture of sad and condescending and Cullen is frankly sure that no one else could make that look near as good as Dorian did. Dorian pushed himself from the banister, straightening his black formal wear back into submission.

Maker, but the man looked amazing. Cullen hadn't really given himself the opportunity to gaze at Dorian, but the uniform was incredibly fitted to the mage. The black and gold looked simply amazing on him and made him far more regal; a prince to rival the Empress tonight.

"I'd considered it," Dorian said, as if he didn't notice Cullen ogling him. "I'm not calling into question Josephine's ability to sway the rumor in our favor."

"Then let her."

Dorian took a step towards Cullen, that tired smile barely hanging on the mage's lips. He reached out a hand and took Cullen's right hand from the Commander's side, turning Cullen's hand so the palm faced Dorian and the jeweled eye of the snake ring was staring Cullen in the face. Dorian's ring.

He was still wearing Dorian's ring.

Cullen's stomach sank as Dorian pulled the ring off his middle finger, only for him to move it over to his index finger on the same hand. Where an engagement ring would go.

"No doubt some of the Orlesians have already spotted the ring on your hand. I'm sure the rumors were already marvelous before our engagement was announced," Dorian said as he let go of Cullen's hand. "Like I said. Too Vint-y to mistake who it came from."

"Maker's breath, Dorian. I didn't mean- I didn't even-"

"There's that 'Apologizing for doing nothing wrong' habit of yours again. Tell me, is it a Fereldan trait, a Templar trait, or simply a symptom of your knight in shining armor disease?"

"Dorian, this isn't something to joke about," Cullen snapped. Maker, if he would have just taken off the ring....He hadn't even thought about it. Josephine hadn't mentioned it when he was getting fitted and he hadn't remembered he was even wearing the single most Tevinter looking jewelry imaginable.

"Isn't it? Our fake courtship has gone to a fake marriage astoundingly fast. Next we'll be having fake children and my mother will be so overjoyed that she'll stay in Skyhold. Perhaps a fake mabari first? To fake practice, of course."

"What are we going to do?" Cullen asked, ignoring all of Dorian's bluster.

"Do? We deal with it, Commander. You and I are going to make this work in Lavellan's favor so she escapes out of here looking like a benevolent Elvehen goddess blessed by Andraste Herself. Nothing less."

Cullen thought he should really send Halward a fruit basket after this. Maker above but Halamshiral was nearly bearable with Dorian by his side. Standing and looking pretty had never been easier and Cullen was able to watch a Tevinter Altus bewitch the Orlesian masses around him.

"My Lord Pavus!" a woman in silver fox mask exclaimed as she unfurled her fan in front of her face. "How lucky Command Rutherford is to have such a magnificent fiancée!"

"I assure you, Madame de Charron, I am the lucky one. Tell me, have you ever seen a more handsome man in your life?" Dorian asked with a smile directed towards Cullen. They were only separated by a few inches from one another but Dorian seemed to have most of the crowd around him. "Besides me, of course."

The nobles laughed good-naturedly at Dorian's quip and the mage smiled wide for his onlookers. If one didn't know the mage, they'd be thinking he was having a wonderful time. But Cullen saw the tightness in his eyes and the way he held his arms crossed and resolutely together.

Nearly bearable, but not quite. Dorian took point on The Game, as Cullen was dreadfully unarmed, but it was clear that the Tevinter had rather been looking forward to a night of people avoiding him and killing assassins. Cullen's night was better for Halward's lie, but Dorian's was infinitely worse as he attempted to spin their engagement into something politically acceptable.

Josephine and Leliana helped with that as well. The two advisors had accosted the men as they left the balcony, pulling them back out onto the balcony and away from prying eyes. Josephine had already noticed Cullen's ring and was going to mention it to him, but well...too late for that.

The women were still looking for any clues on Celene's assassin, but they also made sure to help spin Dorian into a positive light. Less of a Tevinter Altus making a move in the Inquisition and more of a Tevinter pariah finding love.

Dorian gave them all the help he could, but he was also one of Lavellan's three. So when Lavellan motioned from across the hall, Dorian excused himself politely, handing Cullen his glass of wine. "Do be gentle with my intended," Dorian told the crowd even if his eyes were fixed on Cullen. "I won't be gone long."

Cullen returned his smile and resisted urging him to hurry back. Surely once Dorian was gone, the admirers and onlookers would disperse. After all, they hardly seemed interested in Cullen.

"Tell me, Commander," one of the onlookers asked him. The Dowager. Cullen couldn't remember her true name but everyone seemed content to call her 'Dowager' and she hadn't taken offence. "What endeared you the young man in the first place?"

Dorian disappeared out the ballroom with Lavellan, Cassandra, and Varric off to wherever they had hidden their weapons and armor. How Leliana managed to get it all onto the grounds was a secret between her and Zevran. His gaze probably lingered too long, his silence too damning, but it wasn't like it wasn't a question Cullen hadn't considered.

Why Dorian? He was male, a mage, and Tevinter. Only Bull would probably be a worse choice in partner, politically. And Cullen hadn't considered Dorian a potentially anything until it was far too late. He skipped right from wary chess partner to acting like a boy with his first paramour without stopping at anything in between.

"I-" Cullen started as he stared at the door Dorian disappeared into. "He's Dorian," Cullen said for lack of anything else. It was a poor explanation but more than enough of one and all he had to offer.

The Dowager didn't seem to mind his answer. Her eyes brightening as she nodded to Cullen, a small smile just visible from under her mask. "It is so refreshing to see something honest in these halls."

Cullen wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

 The nobles didn't leave. They didn't leave by a longshot. More gathered about him, asking every question about his relationship with Dorian from innocuous to completely inappropriate. They gathered in a cluster as if they were shielding him from any onlookers.

From any help.

And Maker did he answer as best he could but they spoke in between themselves, laughs turning shrill as they remarked on the strange pairing. The mage had only been gone for one hour and the crowd decided that was more than enough time to begin insulting him. In front of his supposed fiancée.

"And did you see the Tevinter symbol on his coat?"

"Black and gold. Could you choose a more unfashionable coloring choice?"

"His parents as well. Can you believe it? Magisters in the Winter Palace."

"And the poor Commander, to be so enthralled."

"Does Tevinter breed anything besides blood mages?"

"To be so bold!"

Cullen clenched his fists. Not but one hour ago they fawned over the mage. "That is my fiancée," he snapped. "Speak ill of his honor again and I will defend it."

"A duel?" one of the Orlesians asked with a laugh. "My dear Commander, I thought the Inquisition above such things."

"Honestly, Commander," another Orlesian said, "we merely worry for your safety. To request a duel in the face of such honest concern as ours?"

The murmurs grew in the crowd and Cullen felt his chest tighten. He couldn't do anything? If Josephine or Leliana were there, they'd know how to proceed. Cullen should be allowed to defend his intended's honor without it reflecting on the Inquisition. But how could he without coming across like a Fereldan brute who solved every problem with a sword?

Not that the Orlesians were any better, hiding in their towers as they allowed the poor to fight on their behalf for a future that farmers and peasants didn't truly desire. But this was their field of play and he was just a Fereldan farmboy who'd been lucky in his life. Or unlucky, depending on how one looked at it.

The Orlesians gathered around him, voices merging and mixing together as the crowd invaded his space. A few hands brushed against his collarbone, sweet words accompanying the touches.

"So brave."

"So handsome."

"So strong."

The hands wandered further. Farther. Closer.

There were more words spoken but Cullen couldn't hear them. Couldn't see them. His vision grayed about the edges and he felt as if he were standing behind himself, watching the exchanges as if it were a portrait that moved but he couldn't fully make out the figures.

He saw a hand wander down his back and it snapped him back to reality harshly. Violently.

"Excuse me," he choked out, pushing his way back to the balcony. Josephine would berate him for his impromptu departure later but he couldn't stay in that room. Not with those people. Not with their words and the hands that they wouldn't keep to themselves.

He shouldn't have ever made the journey to Halamshiral. He should have fought harder with Josephine and Leliana. Orlais was no place for a Fereldan farmboy, an ex-Templar, and most certainly not for him. What was he showing for the Inquisition? That the Commander of the Inquisition was an easily riled man with no skills at diplomacy who also happened to be betrothed to a member of Tevinter's nobility?

He's not sure how his lack of presence would be worse.

"It's a nice hiding spot," came Selene's voice from behind him. Cullen jumped at the sound, sure that he had the balcony to himself. "Halamshiral is notably less interesting than I thought it would be."

"What were you hoping for?"

"I'm not sure," Selene said and she stepped to Cullen, leaning against him. "Though your betrothal almost makes up for it. Ser Cullen Pavus. It has a nice ring to it."

Cullen gave a weak laugh and leaned against the banister, his hands still shaking from the hall. From the wandering hands and muted pictures. "Shouldn't he take my name?"

"I imagine you'd both take one another's name without the other knowing, considering how much you two seem to value open communication," Selene said with a pointed look.

"I'm working at it," Cullen said. He gripped the banister tighter and released it, continuing the motion a few more times to force nerves and blood into his shaking fingers.

"If you were working at it then neither of you would be here. You'd have found a nice lush Orlesian bed. Hopefully with an outcropping that Zevran and I could watch from."

Cullen winced and turned his face from Selene. It wasn't her fault. She didn't know, she wasn't watching the Orlesians walking about Cullen and grabbing his body as if they were owed a piece of it.

"Cullen?" Selene asked. She'd always been too observant for her own good, even back in the Tower. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he said, trying to keep his voice level. "Not the night I was planning."

"How's it going?"

What Cullen wanted to say was cut off by that damned spirit, Cole, materializing from the shadows behind the door. Likely he'd already been on the balcony when Cullen escaped there. "The hands grope, grab, and the grins gleam as it grows dark. So dark. 'She's not here. It's not here. It never left the Tower.'"

"Be gone, spirit," Cullen hissed.

"I want to help," Cole said, looking at Cullen from beneath that wide brimmed hat. "It...hurts. It calls. There are other hurts but this is different. I can help."

"You did," Selene said gently but forcefully. "Go help the other hurts. I'll take it from here."

The spirit looked upset but nodded to Selene. "Thank you. And don't worry. The Song will go away....Eventually." Without any further explanation, he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"Ah, that's...disconcerting," Selene said, her face paler than normal. "Are you alright, Cullen?"

"I should get back," Cullen said as he turned to the door. Selene stopped him with a hand around his bicep and a concerned look on her face. Cullen didn't need anyone concerned about him. He just needed to do his job, the one job he was sent here to do. No matter who tried to stop him--Halward, Selene, or even his own cursed self.

He gently yanked his arm from Selene's grasp and strode through the door to stand about and look pretty.

Cullen was not in the Great Hall more than five minutes before Josephine waved over for his attention. He barely excused his presence to the diminished crowd around him as he met in a secluded corner with Josephine, Leliana, and Lavellan. "Have we heard anything?" he asked.

"There are Venatori here, I found a locket, and there's a mage that seemed incredibly interested in Selene," Lavellan said. "Beyond that, no. I'm about to dance with Florianne, so maybe she has news."

"Be careful during the dance, Inquisitor," Josephine said. "Do not give too much away."

"Coyly answer with questions and repetition. Honestly, you make it seem like it's hard to talk to these people." Lavellan rolled her eyes and wiped away at some of the blood still beneath her sleeve. "I'll dance with Florianne, you two keep your ears out. Commander," Lavellan said while looking at her Antivan lover, "you're with me."

"Inquisitor?"

"I need an extra hand with the Venatori. You're with me."

That...was a lie. And not a good one, nor one that Lavellan was skilled at delivering. Her party of three took on far more Venatori than this and in a rougher environment.

"The Commander," Josephine started, "must stay in the public eye."

"I wasn't making a request. He's with me."

"Inquisitor," Josephine stepped between the lovers, hoping to divert Orlesian eyes away from the group. "Cullen knew what he signed up for."

As if he had a single choice in the matter. As if Cullen hadn't spent weeks and months with Lavellan trying to plot a way--any way--out of this blasted night with these blasted Orlesians.

"But I didn't. He's with me."

"Inquisitor, listen-"

"No," Lavellan spat as she stepped up to Leliana. "You think I want to be here? That I give a fucking damn about this Empire and it's fucking Empress? If Dorian and I hadn't seen what we saw in Redcliffe then believe me, I would be the first to dance on the ashes of Val Royeuax and its shem. If you think for one second that I cannot kill Celen and plant Briala as the new Empress, then you've forgotten why you named me Inquisitor."

"Orlais would not last the year!" Josephine exclaimed though Leliana appeared thoughtful.

"Then we defeat Corypheus within the year and I can watch the Winter Palace burn in celebration." Lavellan spun on her heel and began the march to the Great Hall proper. "Cullen, with me."

"I-" Cullen started but followed after Lavellan without another word. He'd seen her face Haven and the horrors of Adamant without batting an eye. A mildly irritable woman, certainly, but not a angry one.

She whirled on Cullen before they got back in the Orlesians' sight. "If you are uncomfortable, tell me. I don't care what Game we're playing, where we're at, who these people think they are....No one gets to make you uncomfortable like that. It's not-" Lavellan took a deep breath as she seemingly tried to pull her rage back into check. "It's not a feeling I would wish on anyone."

"Lavellan...."

The Inquisitor waved away his concern and his words, instead managing to put on a bright smile. "Now, stand off to the side, watch me dance, and we'll meet up with the other three. Besides, I know a mage who's been dying to show off for you."

Lavellan snuck off the dance floor the moment the song ended, dodging Orlesians with a grace and a smile that Cullen didn't think her possible of. Certainly not after her outburst at Leliana and Josephine. She motioned for Cullen to follow with a wave of her hand. They made their way into a library of some sort that was filled with armor and arms. Every member of the Inquisition's weaponry and armor, actually, including Cullen's.

"How did you know to bring it?"

"Hm? Oh, I didn't but I trust Orlesian shems even less than the others. If it came to blows, I wasn't going to be unprepared."

Cullen was impressed. He had a dagger at his leg for the same reason, confident in his ability to disarm some Orlesian guard of their sword with it if he needed to. But it was good to see someone else considering what would happen if this all turned sour.

Lavellan slipped on her leather armor and he slipped on his plate mail a few bookshelves down for privacy. When they met once more, Lavellan tossed him his sword and shield with a smile. "Ready?"

Maker, but it'd been an age since he'd held a shield. And despite the desire to bash it into some Orlesian's face--the one with the wandering hands--it felt good to have a target again. An objective he could slash at with steel, not bicker at with words.

"At your service, Inquisitor."

When Lavellan and he finally made their way into the garden, it was clear she hadn't told Cassandra, Varric, or Dorian that he'd be accompanying her. Cassandra and Varric raised eyebrows and Dorian's face lit up in a smile.

"You joining us there, Curly?"

"For a moment."

"Look a little bare without the fur-whats-it thing around your shoulders," Varric confessed with a smirk. "But you're a sight better in mail than whatever that uniform was supposed to be."

"If you believe I'm giving you back your cloak," Dorian said, "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I find it looks better on me, anyway."

"You think most things look better on you," Cassandra said with a sigh.

"Why my dear Cassandra, you'd be right! And I'd be right! How fortuitous."

This was better. This was as near to home as Cullen could get anymore. In plate mail with a blade in his hand surrounded by the Inquisition. Not stumbling about in nightmares and memories of a she-demon. This he could battle as he'd been trained to do.

"So Curly," Varric said, "can you still do that thing with your shield?"

Cullen couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his face.

Chapter Text

Cullen never felt so much at home as he did with a shield in one hand and a sword in the other. It probably said something terrible about the Commander himself, but whatever it said about Cullen's personality was nothing Cullen wasn't already aware of.

Despite the fact that he was more often than not regulated to strategy and paperwork, Cullen still remembered how to move in the throes of a battle. He continued to practice of course, but a wooden dummy served as a poor substitute for an assassin who could vanish in mid-stride. Kirkwall had given him ample opportunity to learn a trick or two about finding the damn rogues and remembering the steps was less a conscious decision than a natural motion.

"Damn," Varric said as he shouldered his crossbow. "We need to take Curly out more often. Might keep my bones where they are."

"And my outfit remarkably blood free," Dorian pointed out. "A feat our dear Inquisitor seems to neglect."

Lavellan flicked a bit of blood off her hands in his general direction. "How many outfits do I owe you?" she asked the mage with a smile.

"Eleven," Dorian responded with a half-hearted glare. "I've not forgotten about you tackling me in the garden."

"You were keeping secrets."

"Penance for not telling me that you kept decent liquor about the place. Have you been to our tavern, Inquisitor? Ten gold pieces that they simply ran out of alcohol and have been using vinegar in its stead."

"I'll put twenty on piss," Varric grumbled as he searched through the pockets of a Venatori assassin.

"I haven't been," Lavellan replied with a smug smile, "because I know where I keep the good booze."

Cullen smiled as Dorian and Lavellan continued to bicker. Cullen may be Dorian's....whatever he was to Dorian, but Lavellan and Dorian were quite possibly two of the best friends in the entire keep. Bull and Krem were perhaps the only two more conjoined at the hip.

It wasn't a fact lost on the nobility that visited.

"They're always like that," Cassandra said as she came up to stand with Cullen. Her arms were crossed over her chest but a fond smile graced her bloodstained face.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Cullen asked.

"It is, until they start bickering on how to take down a giant while taking fighting the giant. But it's nice to see not...all hope is lost."

That the Inquisition wasn't lost. History may remember the group differently, especially its founders, but at the moment they were doing something that mattered. Perhaps Corypheus would win it all and make the effort moot, but they had managed the Inquisition this far with people who still cared.

Orlais may throw their parties while Ferelden continued to rebuild from the Blight, but at least there was some entity in Thedas that actually gave a damn about the end of the world.

"Hey!" Varric called to Dorian and Lavellan. "Assassination attempts aren't really something we can be late to."

"You're doing them wrong," Dorian replied smoothly, as if he hadn't just abruptly cut off a conversation. "You should always be able to arrive to everything fashionably late."

"Yeah, well, Celene might object."

"Rather impressive for a dead woman."

"If you think death is going to stop the most Orlesian of Orlesians, you don't know Orlais there, Sparkler."

"A lapse in knowledge I'm not exactly hurrying to fill."

Cassandra gave a disgusted huff as she nodded her head in the direction they were supposed to move.

Varric smiled and strode in the lead, crossbow at the ready. "Come on kids, we've still got Sparkler's outfit to ruin."

Cullen wasn't too proud a man to admit when he'd lost his footing. The assassins became quicker, smarter, and deadlier the further they explored Halamshiral. None of that would have been a problem if there weren't also more of them. For every assassin Cullen cut down, two replaced them and they were better than the one before them had been.

Cassandra and he were forced to pull back from being an impenetrable wall. There were too many of the damned Venatori and they were making it closer to the mage and rogues who were trying to pick them off from afar. Instead, they played bodyguard to Dorian and Varric while Lavellan kept the assassins off their blind sides.

An assassin got close enough to cut through one of the straps holding Cullen's pauldrons in place. A shield to her face was all Cullen could manage before moving to the newest attacker.

It was bloody work and hard work and Cullen didn't want to be anywhere else.

Crossbow bolts flew inches from his face, Lavellan darted in and out of the shadows, and a magical barrier sat just above his skin that felt like the beginning of a fire.

By the time they made it out of the battle, everyone was a little worse for wear. Varric favored one of his shoulders, Cassandra tended to her thigh, and Lavellan stretched out her hand to test her fingers. Cullen himself had to massage his shoulder thanks to an assassin who jarred his arm a bit too forcefully.

But it was Dorian who had to pull a dagger from his left side.

"Dorian!" Lavellan called as she watched the mage throw the dagger to the ground. Dorian gripped tightly onto his staff but blood slicked his hand and he wobbled, even with the support.

A bottle of healing potion was thrust into Dorian's other hand while Lavellan fretted around him. Cullen came up behind them but considering the glare Dorian fixed on Lavellan, he knew better than to add in the elf's fussing.

The sight of Dorian's once white armor turning dark red made sure Cullen at the very least still hovered.

"It's a scratch," Dorian protested. Lavellan supported him as he uncapped the potion and downed it quickly with barely a grimace "Though it is doing a rather marvelous job of ruining yet another piece of armor."

"We'll buy you all the gaudy armor Val Royeaux has to offer," Lavellan said "But you can't keep going."

"Nonsense. The elfroot will patch me up completely by the time any more of these Venatori arrive. Though, I accept your invitation to buy me armor. Let's try to make it as un-Orlesian as possible though, hm?"

Lavellan sighed and turned away from Dorian, handing Cullen another health poultice. "Get him to one of the rooms."

"Oh yes, talk about the Tevinter as if he weren't here."

"Cole," Lavellan called instead of answering Dorian. The spirit appeared in a blast of smoke in front of Lavellan. No one was surprised by this sudden appearance as much as Cullen, which made the man think that the spirit had done this before. "I need you and Solas to meet us in the room up ahead."

"But-" Cole started as he looked to Dorian.

"Now, Cole," snapped Lavellan.

The demon disappeared as quickly as he came, gone in a flash as if he'd never stood there.

"Despite what you may thing, I don't need to be pampered, Inquisitor," Dorian said. His voice edged the faux amusement he normally held along with true hurt. "Need I remind you the state I was in when you decided taking on a High Dragon was the wisest decision."

"We're running out of time and we've got backup here. Cole and Solas will fill in," Lavellan said. She ran a bloodied hand across her face before turning her eyes to Dorian in what Cullen could only assume was her best mabari eyes. "Let Cullen stitch you up and we'll meet you later in the night. No one's going to assassinate anyone while you're gone, I promise."

Dorian frowned at Lavellan and switched his gaze to Cullen. Whatever he saw on there forced him to sigh. "You will stave off any backroom dealings until I'm there, yes? Maker knows you Southerners wouldn't know how to pull off a proper assassination without a Tevinter there."

The tension snapped in the air as Lavellan, Cassandra, and Varric all seemed to take an inaudible sigh of relief. The gesture wasn't lost on Dorian as his lips turned downward in a frown. It was a little hard for any of them to berate or scold Dorian for wishing to continue on. Cullen himself had seen Lavellan race to meet a Blight Dragon, Cassandra fight on with a dislocated shoulder, and Varric was a walking warning to everyone about not knowing when to quit.

"Well, let's not waste any time, Commander. Lavellan can only go so long without killing something, after all."

"It's true," Lavellan added with a smile as she backed away from the mage. "I'll have Cole fetch you before we play hero. But make sure that side's stitched up before tagging along."

The command was said to Dorian but Cullen had an inkling it was directed more towards him. Again, why people were under any delusion that Dorian would listen to him was a complete mystery.

Lavellan nodded to Cassandra and Varric and headed towards a door at the opposite end of the balcony. Halamshiral was a maze that Cullen had no interest in figuring out. Dorian walked from Cullen in a direction of another door, one the Inquisitor had yet to go through. Cullen followed at a distance too far to be hovering but close enough to catch Dorian if he stumbled.

"You'll stitch me up, I'll take some more of that disgusting health poultice, and we'll join the others before the Orlesians get to marvel at how much they owe an elf. Did you know they called her rabbit, Commander? While in the same breath asking for her help finding some gaudy ring or bracelet or collar. Whatever frippery Orlesians are adorning themselves with."

Red continued to seep further into Dorian's robes, but it wasn't bleeding enough to it to drip on the ground yet. It was as good a sign as any that Dorian was not grievously hurt.

That and his continued speech about the gaudy Orlesian jewelry he'd seen among the nobility that night.

When they finally reached the door, it would not budge. "Fasta vass," Dorian swore as gripped onto the doorknob. Ice flowed from his shoulder down his arm in swirling patterns and onto the doorknob until it was nearly a solid block of ice. The mage stepped back from the door and smiled at Cullen.

"A trick I learned in my time at the Circles when they thought metal doors were sufficient to keep me in a room."

"Metal doors?"

"Wooden ones were so easy to burn," Dorian remarked offhandedly. "Be a dear and kick it open?"

Cullen did as asked, the lock giving easy under the strain of the ice Dorian had placed there. The second the door opened though, he averted his eyes. "Maker's breath."

Dorian raised an eyebrow before walking into the room. "Collars, indeed."

"Please help!" called the naked man bound the bed. Cullen sighed and walked behind Dorian, closing the door behind him and tried to look anywhere but at the man's...immodesty. "It's not what it looks like. Honestly, I would have preferred if it were what it looks like."

"Well, that makes two of us," Dorian said.

"The Empress led me to believe I would be...rewarded for betraying the Grand Duke. This...was not what I had hoped for."

"Empress Celene did this?" Cullen asked.

"The Empress beguiled me! Into giving her information about...plans for troop movements in the palace tonight."

Cullen rolled his eyes. Andraste preserve us, is everyone trying to kill everyone?

"She knows everything! Everything! The Duke's surprise attack has been countered before it ever began. She's turned it into a trap. The moment he strikes, she'll have him arrested for treason."

"All this for....?" Cullen couldn't finish the sentence but waved his hands in a way that he hoped got the point across.

Dorian simply laughed. "Oh, Orlesians."

"Please, you must release me."

"Are you willing to testify?" Cullen asked. "We can protect you from the Duke, but we need your word that you will testify about this...this trap from Celene."

"I'll do anything! Anything!"

"Good," Dorian said as he nodded for Cullen to begin cutting the ropes that bound the man. Cullen focused intently on the ropes and not the man on the bed as Dorian continued to speak. "There's a woman in the ballroom, an Antivan woman with the Inquisition's uniform on. Find her and tell her about your predicament. Though, you may want to find some clothes first. Showing up without a stitch on tends to not sit well with nobility...."

"Bless you! Bless you, messieurs!" the man exclaimed. He grabbed a pillow from the bed to cover his modesty and raced out the door Cullen and Dorian had just walked in.

"Well," Dorian said as he lowered himself to the bed, "the good Empress was kind enough to leave her bed unattended. Under normal circumstances, I'd be hesitant to bleed over such fine silks, but I think she rather deserves it for what she did to that poor fellow."

"Are you alright?" Cullen asked. He shut the door behind him and watched as Dorian expertly undid parts of his robe. The white portion at his left leg was apparently something he could unclip from the rest of it. He simply reached under a piece of the white fabric that rested above his armor and undid something Cullen could not see, then he simply pulled at the fabric and pulled it up from under his belt.

"Quite. They missed everything vital and the blade hit more of this leather than it did me." Dorian undid another piece of the stained white fabric with practice. What had seemed to Cullen as one solid piece down Dorian's left side actually appeared to be three separate pieces held together by clasps hiding in the folds of the fabric. "It's just best to let the Inquisitor fret when she wants to. No one quite does mother hen like that woman."

Dorian continued to undo pieces of his armor until the stab wound was almost fully visible, even if only a small portion of Dorian's abdomen was. Despite the mage's predilection towards either vastly overstating or understating a situation, the wound wasn't that dire. It did seem to have mostly hit his belt, though there was a nasty gash that disappeared beneath the leather. A dressing and some elfroot was likely all that he needed.

"Well, Commander? Am I fit for duty?"

Cullen snorted and sat on the bed next to Dorian, fingers gently touching the skin around the wound. Dorian's belt and main piece of armor obscured a good portion of it, but it was doubtful the rest of the wound would be any worse.

"You are. If you have anything to dress it with, I can staunch the bleeding."

"Yes, yes, I have some concentrated elfroot and a few bandages with me. I'm surprised Lavellan didn't force you to carry them with you."

"There wasn't exactly much time," Cullen said with a smile. Dorian produced the bandages from one fold of clothing and a vial of elfroot oil from another. The Tevinter's fashion had always been called into question among the Fereldan troops, but this was possibly the first time Cullen had ever agreed with them.

"Can you move this bit of armor? It's covering the rest of the wound."

"Ah,"Dorian said as he peered at Cullen's hand. "Not without taking the whole of it off."

"Is that a problem?"

Dorian was silent as he lifted his eyes from Cullen to stare at some unknown detail of the wall in front of them. Finally, he sighed. "You and I seem to have a tradition of disclosing secrets while half disrobed. Who am I to rebuff something so lofty as tradition?"

"Dorian-"

"No, no," Dorian interrupted as he waved Cullen's words away. "Let me do this while I still have the stomach for it." Dorian began to undo the buckles at his right arm, starting with his wrist and moving upward. The motion was practiced enough that his fingers barely fumbled with the metal, even if his hand was covered in blood. When he undid the last of the buckles at his shoulder, he pulled until the arm of his armor came off.

There was quite a bit of muscle there, but there was also ink. Starting from the just a bit above his wrist, there was a solid black tattoo that wound around Dorian's arm a few times before disappearing beneath the armor still covering his chest and shoulder. If Cullen had to guess--and what he knew of Dorian--he would say he was looking at the tail of a snake winding up Dorian's skin.

But it was what was in between the ink that caught Cullen's gaze. Scars. Thin, precise lines from the middle of Dorian's forearm all the way to his shoulder. Equally spread apart, all the same length.

Dorian watched Cullen's gaze carefully as he unhooked a buckle at his belt and one at his shoulder before pulling the entirety of his chest armor free.

Cullen was right, it was a snake that dipped from Dorian's to his chest where the head sat, open fanged as if mid-strike near Dorian's heart. The tattoo started as an outline from the head and progressively got filled, as if the snake were pulling something from Dorian.

Slowly, afraid Dorian would startle or bolt, Cullen rose from the bed to kneel in front of the mage to get a better look.

The snake wasn't attacking Dorian's heart, but the three scarred sigils that were cut into the skin just above his heart. 'Obedience'. 'Metamorphosis'. 'Happiness'. The first two sigils were instantly recognizable as he'd seen them on a glowing elf back in Kirkwall.

"Who?" Cullen asked softly as reached to touch the scars before pulling his hand back.

Dorian tried to smile but even his masks weren't quite to the task. "Come now, Commander. After all, aren't all evil Tevinter Magisters supposed to dabble in blood magic? Who says I didn't do this to myself?"

"Who?" Cullen asked once more, a lot harsher than he intended.

Dorian reeled back slightly, as if he suddenly expected Cullen to believe that Dorian would do this to himself. There was something in Dorian's expression that Cullen knew he should be reading into, but it was all he could do to trample on his own rage. His own desire to draw and quarter whoever had tried something like this on Dorian.

"Ah," Dorian started, "it was...not someone who matters anymore."

"Dorian."

"If you could dress my wound, Cullen," Dorian said, knowing full well the weight of his words. "I wouldn't want to be late to the assassination attempt we foil."

"Right, I-" Cullen ran a hand through his hair as he stood and grabbed the bandages and elfroot oil.

He carefully and methodically patched up the wound on Dorian's side. It wasn't dire. It, at least, wouldn't become a scar like the other precise cuts scattered about Dorian's chest and right arm.

Obedience. Metamorphosis. Happiness. What were they trying to change Dorian into? Had they succeeded? Likely not. Cullen had seen the first sigil of obedience often enough in Kirkwall. He knew the dead stare of a person under its thrall. Dorian was not under whatever spell someone had tried to cast on him.

"I can almost hear your thinking, Commander." Dorian kept his voice light, but there was still a thread of tension running in it.

"The tattoo," Cullen said because he couldn't think of anything else to say that didn't revolve around murdering the blood mage who scarred Dorian. "Was it...before...?"

"Ah, no. The tattoo I got shortly before fleeing Tevinter. I was...not exactly sober at the time. None of my fleeing Tevinter was done soberly, however. I don't regret the tattoo, if that's what you're asking. Though I do wish I had gotten it some place a bit more sanitary."

It must have taken an entire day to get the tattoo. Cullen didn't know much about the art of it, but there was a reason very few outside the Antivan Crows got tattoos. They were simply too painful to get.

"Does anyone know?"

Dorian snorted. "Andraste's tits, no. Lavellan knows someone tried to change me, but she hasn't seen the...what that quite looks like. I go through great pains to make sure no one can glance at any of this. Why in Maker's name do you think I have so many belts on my arm?"

"I always thought it a misguided Tevinter fashion choice."

"My dear Commander, there's fashion and then there's torture. The Lady Vivienne would have you assume they're one in the same, but I've never found much use in torturing yourself for other people's judgment."

Cullen nodded and finished dressing the wound, stepping away from Dorian. The mage smiled up at him and checked the bandage to make sure he was fine.

"Marvelous job! Now, Commander, should we wait here for Cole's instructions or run after the merry band?"

"Who knows where they could have gone to. If we stay in one spot, Cole has a better chance of finding us."

"As you command," Dorian said with a smile. "I am...curious though, Commander, why did you think someone else did this to me?"

"You're right-handed," Cullen said simply. "The cuts are too precise to be done with your off-hand. And you...I know you well enough to know that you would not do that to anyone. Even yourself."

"Ah," Dorian said as he quickly turned to start putting on the pieces of his armor once more, even the blood-stained white pieces of cloth. "I could simply be full of surprises."

"No one marks themselves for 'obedience.'"

Dorian's sure hands dropped his belt before he could place it on himself. "You know what they mean?"

"I- yes? Don't you?"

"No. I never- well, that is to say I could have found out but well...." Dorian trailed off, but Cullen got the idea. "Do you know what they all mean? All three?"

"Yes."

"What are they?" Dorian asked, even if it sounded like he desperately did not want to know. But he asked, and Cullen had always been taught to obey.

"Obedience. Metamorphosis. Happiness."

Something broke on Dorian's face, on his nearly perfect mask that he always held in place. "Happiness," he breathed out. He sat back on the bed and stared into nothingness as he repeated the word a few times.

They were in the same position when Cole fetched them.

Florianne was outed as the would be assassin, Lavellan was touted as a hero, Celene retained her throne, and the Orlesian party continued as if none of the aforementioned events had taken place.

Cullen was still in his plate mail when Lucretia came up to him and demanded a dance. No amount of motioning to his blood-stained armor was going to convince the Tevinter otherwise.

Which was how Cullen was dragged onto the ballroom floor in full regalia with what everyone in court assumed to be his future mother-in-law.

"Smile, Commander," Lucretia said as she more or less led in the following position. "You've stopped an assassination attempt tonight. A feat worth celebrating, isn't it?"

"The Inquisitor stopped the assassination attempt."

"And yet here you stand, in full armor with a sword at your hip, the bloodied Commander of her armies. Smile to the Orlesian masses you've frightened."

Cullen startled in her hold but Lucretia's grip held fast as she practically dipped herself. "That's was this dance was for? To frighten the Orlesians?"

"Make no mistake, Commander, every move here has many reasons for them. This one was less for you and more for my son. The Orlesians' eyes are upon you, of course. The Fereldan Commander who's dripping blood on the Empress's ballroom floor and is also...betrothed to a Tevinter mage who helped secure Orlais for another day. They're not quite sure whether to hate or fear you. This dance is to ensure they do both.

"But more importantly," Lucretia said as they spun across the dance floor. "It was to give my son the chance to escape onto the balcony. The masses, and my husband, no doubt want to see the Commander and his fiancee dance about the room. If they cannot find Dorian, however...."

"You let him escape," Cullen said, smiling at the woman in his arms. "Why?"

"Do you know what today's courtship prompt is, Commander?" Lucretia asked. "It's fears. And it is my hope that by the end of tonight, you'll have conquered yours."

The music ended, along with the dance. Lucretia smiled, her normally pursed lips relaxing just a fraction as she appraised the Commander. With a bow, she departed from Cullen and a flock of Orlesians swept around her.

None dared approach Cullen. Fear and hate, indeed.

Cullen walked up the stairs from the ballroom floor. The balcony that Dorian had dragged his parents onto earlier that night was closed and Cullen tried as valiantly as he could to sneak through the door without any Orlesians noticing.

Dorian was leaning over the banister, elbows digging into the stone as he looked down into the gardens below. He still wore his armor, but perhaps it was on purpose.

"May I have this dance?" Cullen said, startling the mage out of whatever daze he had placed himself under. Dorian turned to Cullen and smiled as the Commander bowed and offered his hand.

"Dancing with a Tevinter on a secluded balcony?" Dorian asked and took Cullen's hand. The mage adopted the leading position, which was fine with Cullen. He'd taught more than a few Templars in his days as Knight-Commander. "Whatever will people think?"

"According to your mother, they'll take one look at us and decide it's not worth the fight."

Dorian gave a startled laugh as he led Cullen through a simple waltz. "Well, never let it be said that Orlesians are known for their bravery."

"What gave it away? The backstabbing tonight or the three Orlesians pretending they hadn't all betrayed one another?"

"A bit of both, actually."

They danced a while longer, the song that the orchestra was playing instead only barely audible from behind the door. They danced through two songs, Dorian switching to a dance that Cullen was unfamiliar with, but was simple enough for him to follow.

Once the second song ended, Dorian stopped but still held onto Cullen, a smile playing about his lips. "I didn't know you had it in you, Commander. Dancing! Untold depths."

Cullen's mind was far from the dance. Fears, Lucretia had said. Bravery, Dorian spoke of. Were not Fereldans supposed to be known for their bravery?

Weren't Templars?

"Dorian, I," Cullen stopped himself once more, bringing his eyes to the man in front of him. The man that was always in front of him. The man who slept in his bed at night. The man who bore Cullen's worst memories with barely a wince. The man who trusted Cullen with seeing something he'd never shown anyone else.

Maker's breath, Cullen was wearing the man's ring as an engagement ring.

Bravery.

Cullen wound his arm about Dorian's waist and the mage in return brought his ringed hand to the back of Cullen's neck and into his curls.

He couldn't have been wrong about this. There had to be something there. Everyone in the Maker's bloody Inquisition saw it. After all they had been through, after everything he'd shown Dorian and Dorian had shown him...there couldn't have been any alternative. Could there have been?

Bravery.

Cullen leaned in, eyes watching Dorian for any sort of sign that he wanted it to stop. There was curiosity there, and maybe a bit of shock, but Dorian was still in his arms. Cullen reached up his free hand to cup the back of Dorian's neck and leaned in, closing his eyes.

His lips nearly brushed gently against Dorian's.

"Please stop," Dorian said.

Cullen tried to spring back a few feet from Dorian but Dorian's hand was still in Cullen's hair. They parted to where they could see one another, but Dorian's fingers stayed buried in Cullen's curls.

"We can't," Dorian started and stopped, eyes darting everywhere but at the man in front of him. "Don't misunderstand. I- It would be glorious, but-!" Dorian swore low in Tevene and finally released Cullen, stepping back from the man.

"Cullen," Dorian started once more, as if the distance gave him more room to think. "I'm not a man who gets to have what he wants. I don't- Fasta vass, I'm not making any sense. You--this--is all that I want. But I've never been able to keep something once I have it. Minrathous. Alexius. Felix. Haven. No matter what it is, no matter how vehemently I try, once I have the things I want the most, they are taken from me."

"Dori-"

"I would rather," Dorian continued as if Cullen hadn't spoken. "I would rather never have you, than bear having you and losing you. It would be a mistake that I could not forgive myself for."

Dorian turned from Cullen and slipped through the balcony doors, leaving the Commander to the darkness and sounds of merriment from the garden.

Cullen thought of racing after Dorian, but it wouldn't do any good. Dorian had clearly thought about it and he wasn't going to change his mind in the presence of the entire Orlesian court.

He slumped against the banister behind him, letting his back carry most of his weight as he stared at the doors.

Bravery.

Cullen's stomach sank as Dorian's words replayed in his head. Mistake, he had called it. A mistake to allow Cullen so close. He rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, anything to keep him occupied from the hollow feeling forming in his chest.

He wanted to scream into the night but refrained. What good would it do? He developed arguments to Dorian's speech instead.

You wouldn't lose me. But he could. Cullen wasn't on the front line, but there was a reason most Templars stayed on lyrium. The fits might be lessening, but no Templar had ever successfully come off lyrium. Cullen was against impossible odds.

You don't know what will happen. But apparently he did. Apparently he weighed his odds and found them wanting.

The balcony doors clicked open but Cullen didn't look up from his hands. How could he have messed everything up? And for what?

Bravery.

As if such a thing even existed. As if it weren't fools heading into an oncoming storm they didn't have a chance of weathering.

"Festis bei umo canavarum," came a soft whisper. Cullen looked up just in time for Dorian to smash his lips against his. Dorian's hands cupped his face and Cullen's arms wound about the mage as if on their own accord.

Maker's breath but Dorian pressed his lips against Cullen's forcefully but gently, not demanding anything from Cullen except to simply be there.

Cullen broke away for a quick moment, hand cupping Dorian's face even though he's not sure when it got there. "I thought you said this was a mistake."

"Of a tragic sort," Dorian answered before he pressed his lips to Cullen's once more.