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'Though you are far lovelier, I hope you still may find joy in their beauty.'
Ellana stared down at the note in her hand, her brow furrowed in bewilderment. It didn’t make sense.
When the flowers had started showing up in her room — bundles of blossoms gently bound in brilliant crimson ribbon — she'd first assumed that they’d been put there at Lady Montilyet’s instruction.
It was important to keep up appearances; Josephine had made that clear, and so as people had continued to flood through Skyhold’s gates, Josie had found a job for each one. Now, there were plenty of workers in the Inquisition's employ: people who cooked, those who mended clothing, and others who made their living cleaning and freshening up the many rooms of the Keep. As a result, Ellana hadn’t spent much time at all thinking about the fragrant blooms that had appeared almost daily for the past month. Perhaps it was standard practice in Orlais or Antiva to place fresh flowers on the bedside table once a bedroom had been completely tidied, even though it seemed a strange thing to do.
But then, so much about Skyhold and its inhabitants was strange to her, and not just because it was nothing at all like the home she’d had with her clan. Here, her days were packed; there was always another meeting to attend, piles of documents to read and sign, complaints to address, crises to rush out and solve, and on and on it went. As the Inquisition had grown, so too had her list of responsibilities, and some days, she was surprised if she found the time to sneak away for a quick bite at the tavern before finally collapsing into bed at night, exhausted. That hirelings were slipping into her room while she was gone to straighten her desk, wash and replace her sheets, sweep the floors, and light her hearth had hardly registered with her. Why should it matter if they left an arrangement of flowers behind when they were finished?
And yet, whether she thought about them or not, each evening when she returned to her quarters, there they sat in fragrant blues and pinks and yellows, always wrapped in a bright red strip of silk: a splash of color to adorn the dark wood of her nightstand.
They had never come with a note before.
She looked it over a final time, taking in the lovely penmanship more than reading the words. The handwriting didn’t seem to be familiar, but so many reports from agents had been slid across her desk, she wasn’t certain that she could recognize any random person's script anyway.
Still, the words were flattering, and the flowers were beautiful, so with a sigh, she carried the note across the room to her desk and slipped it into the top drawer.
Sweet or not, she had no use for silly distractions. There were still hours of work to be done before she could crawl into bed and end the day.
It was probably a one-off occurrence anyhow.
'The brilliance of your smile sets my heart aflame.'
Whose heart? she wondered, her cheeks glowing a brighter pink than the blossoms she stared down at. She stroked one lithe finger over a velvet-soft petal, a smile of pleasant surprise on her lips.
Ellana hadn’t expected another note to be waiting beside the freshly picked flowers, nor could she have predicted that both gifts would be joined on her bedside table by a small basket filled with a selection of nuts and cheeses.
Stomach rumbling, she began to pick through the assortment. Hadn’t she recently told Varric that this was one of her favorite things to eat and that she wished she could remember to keep some in her quarters to nibble at when she didn’t have the time to rush down to the tavern for a proper meal?
She had.
Popping a small bite of cheese into her mouth, she chewed slowly while she read the note again, squinting thoughtfully at the sharp upstrokes.
It couldn’t be from Varric; she knew his handwriting too well not to recognize it instantly when she saw it. But was there anyone else she’d told about her fondness for mild cheeses and salty snacks? No, no one that she could remember saying anything to, at least. Maybe Varric had shared the information with someone, or else their short conversation about their favorite foods had been overheard. She’d have to remember to ask him about it tomorrow.
She slipped the note into the top drawer of her desk, setting the basket of treats down beside her as she made herself comfortable in her chair. The latest reports from Leliana’s agents made for dry reading, but she was grateful to have something to munch on while she read.
'You are always in my thoughts. I wonder whether I am ever in yours.'
“Oh, for…” Ellana shook her head down at the note peeking out from beneath the fragrant bouquet. With how busy the day had been, she’d completely forgotten about her plan to speak with Varric.
If only she knew who the sweet words were from, she might return their interest. Though, she supposed that would defeat the entire purpose of being a secret admirer. And still, the flowers were as lovely as ever.
Sighing, she gingerly picked up the bit of paper to deposit it in her desk drawer alongside the others.
This entire ordeal was beginning to become distracting.
The notes had to be coming from someone she knew, someone who hoped to be in her thoughts the way she was apparently so often in theirs, but whose?
She tossed herself into her chair and grabbed up a quill and a bit of parchment, scratching a short list of names onto the paper. After a few minutes of contemplation, she began to scribble out each name as she ruled them out.
The Iron Bull might be occasionally flirtatious, but he had made no secret of taking serving girls to his bed each night and seemed more than happy to be doing so.
The Warden and Josephine appeared to be locked in some sort of awkward courtship. Ellana didn’t understand it; the two barely spoke, but Josie would sometimes sigh dreamily whenever the Warden was mentioned during meetings, and Ellana had noticed that Blackwall would occasionally stop to pick flowers for the Ambassador whenever he found any worthy of being gifted while they were in the field.
Her relationship with Solas was one of begrudging respect at best. She scribbled out his name more harshly than she had the others.
A thin line was drawn through Varric’s name without another thought.
And Cullen’s…
Her cheeks flushed when her thoughts turned to the Commander. Of all the bachelors she could think of, he was the only one who was ever on her mind. For a time, she had thought that he might feel the same way. From the moment she’d first laid eyes on him, she’d been captivated by, well, everything about him. He was stunning, regal almost, and impressively clever. Whenever she’d been called to war meetings, it was his advice that she most often took to heart, and so far, not one of his proposed solutions had failed. Soft-spoken when he didn’t need to be commanding, kind without appearing weak, charming seemingly without realizing it…
Ellana toyed with her long, dark hair, curling a strand of it around her finger as she frowned down at the paper.
Since Haven, Cullen had barely looked at her. She had hoped that it was only because he was kept so busy; after all, if there was anyone in the Keep who had as many responsibilities as she did, it was him, but then… Well, even when she would say hello in the mornings, he’d only nod before running off without a word, presumably to his next appointment. It almost felt as if he was avoiding her.
Disappointed, she scratched out Cullen’s name and shoved away the bit of parchment.
That was it; if her admirer wasn’t one of them, then it was someone she didn’t know. But then who?
She’d never get answers if she stayed at Skyhold, her days filled with so much work that she didn’t even have the time to spare for a quick conversation with one of her companions. Tomorrow, she’d take a few of them out and finally get to the bottom of this.
Hopefully.
There had been no real reason for them to return to the Crossroads, so she had made up some excuse about the need for bright sunshine and fresh air. It wasn’t a lie; Skyhold still smelled musty when the wind blew just right, and the Hinterlands offered plenty of fantastic views along with clean air and open skies.
To her, the region was perfect. On the incredibly rare occasions that she had found the time to spend an evening at the Herald’s Rest, she'd enjoyed tipsy conversations with her companions, debating the merits of thundering falls and sloping hills, where towering coniferous trees filled the forests with the sweet scent of pine. Varric had scoffed at her enthusiasm for nature, stating that the stink of pine was overrated and that the area was nothing more than a filthy wilderness filled with dwarf-eating bears, bloodthirsty bandits, and too many piles of nug shit to trip over. Much to Ellana’s dismay, Sera and Iron Bull had readily agreed with Varric’s estimation, so she wasn’t surprised that none of them were currently very pleased to be stuck waiting out the rain in a thatched roof hut, shivering in the cold.
So much for clear skies and warm sunshine.
At least it was still better than tromping across scorching desert dunes where sand found its way into every nook and cranny or sloshing through murky swamps, choking on thick, putrid air while the stench of death seeped into their clothes and hair. And even if it wasn’t, so what? All the places they were sent to had something awful about them. Giant spiders, shambling undead, quarries filled with red lyrium… They’d fought demons and monsters, defeated darkspawn and dragons, so Ellana could hardly believe that Sera was still complaining about nothing more than a little bit of—
“Friggin’ rain!” Sera scowled, folding her arms indignantly over her chest as she glared out at the sheets of water cascading outside the open door. “Ugh!”
Varric chuckled and leaned back against the wall beside Iron Bull. “It’s just a little water, Sunshine, nothing to get worked up about. At least in here, we’re safe from all the wolves and demons and shit.”
“Well, in here is boring, and out there it’s wet and cold, and all soaked up into my boots!” Sera groused, kicking the toe of her sodden boot at the floor, producing a wet squelch. “I told you we should’ve stayed at Skyhold. Could be drinking, be warm and cozy in the tavern like normal people, but nooooo, someone ‘just had to get out of there.’ Stupid,” she spat.
Ellana rolled her eyes and leaned past Sera through the doorway. Sticking one hand out into the deluge, she shivered as icy water splashed over her wrist and ran into the sleeve of her robe. “I like the rain,” she admitted, holding her cupped hand to the sky. “It’s still not as bad here as it was on the Storm Coast.”
“Sure feels like the Storm Coast,” Bull argued. “Rain is rain. Why’d you want to get out of there, anyway? Couldn’t we have just gone to the tavern? Lots of pretty serving girls in the tavern.”
Sera nodded her agreement as Ellana shook off her fingers and wiped them dry on her robe.
She cleared her throat before looking the Iron Bull up and down with sheepish eyes. “Because I have something important to talk to the three of you about, and I didn’t want any distractions. Or any ears listening in,” she added.
“Well that doesn’t sound nefarious at all,” Varric said with a laugh.
“It’s not! I mean, I don’t think that it is, at least. It’s…” Her mouth moved wordlessly for a minute, trying to find the right way to explain the situation. She spoke haltingly through her embarrassment. “For about a month now, I’ve been getting flowers, and I’m not sure from who. I thought that maybe they were just…well, just flowers, something to brighten up the room when… You know all those people Josie hired to keep things tidy? Well, for the past few days when they’re done with my room…” She trailed off, realizing how ridiculous this all sounded.
“For the past few days, what?” Sera demanded. “You can’t just stop there!”
“There’s been notes with the flowers,” Ellana finished. “Not signed, and I don’t recognize the handwriting. They say lovely things—”
“What things?”
“Um… well, that I’m… just, you know, my smile is…” She flushed, shaking her head down at the floor. “What they say doesn’t matter,” she insisted, “the point is that if I knew who they were from, I could—”
The rest of her sentence caught in her throat when she glanced up, catching the look exchanged between Varric and Bull.
She narrowed her eyes at them suspiciously. “What’s that look for?”
“Nothing,” they answered in unison, pointedly looking anywhere but at her.
“So you both already know,” she said accusingly. “Who is it, then?”
Bull lifted his hands into the air, shaking his head. “Hey, I don’t actually know anything about any of this, Varric’s the one who—”
“Oh, real nice,” Varric snapped, “way to throw me under the cart. Look,” he said, shrugging up at Ellana, “All I did was pass on that you like cheese. I didn’t know that he’d been sending you flowers for so long. Didn’t realize it was anything serious.”
“Doesn’t sound real serious,” Sera scoffed, “not if her secret admirer is still being all secret-y after a month of flowers and lovey letters.”
“Just a few days' worth of letters,” Ellana stressed, “and it’s not as if they’re long; usually, they’re just a handful of sweet words, a short sentence or two.” She turned back to the dwarf with entreating eyes. “Will you tell me who it is? I should at least be able to thank him.”
“Nope, sorry. I swore that I wouldn’t.” Varric shook his head at the cross expression that slid over her features and sighed. “Come on, you’re smart, I’m sure you’ll figure it out before he gets up the nerve to do something more than send flowers.”
“Or cheese,” Sera piped up.
“Right, or cheese.”
“Bull?” Ellana pleaded, “How about you?”
“Honest, Boss, I don’t actually know,” he said with a sly grin. “Guess you could call it more of a suspicion. Besides, it’s more fun to watch you wonder. You get all squinty around the eyes.”
“You lot are useless,” Ellana grumbled. “Fine, I’ll figure it out myself.”
“Sure you will,” Sera laughed, swiping at Ellana’s arm with a gentle punch. “You’ll have it all figured out in no time, yeah? Pfft!”
“Reports for you to look over, straight from Commander Cullen.” The messenger slid the stack onto Ellana’s desk and rushed off before she could get out a word of protest.
Cullen’s reports always went through Leliana first, who then sent them to Josephine, who then rewrote half the details before passing them off to Ellana to go over. Generally, by the time Ellana got a look at them, the reports were so heavily amended and notated that she simply skimmed them over before adding her signature of approval to the bottom. Actually reading them usually wasn’t necessary.
And tonight, she really wasn’t in the mood for work. Her hair was still damp from the long walk back from the Hinterlands in the freezing rain. As soon as they’d burst through Skyhold’s gate, her companions had dashed right to the tavern. Ellana had declined their offer for her to join them, frustrated at their refusal to share what they knew, or suspected. Her mood had been sour before she’d even climbed the stairs to her quarters.
That there had been no flowers waiting for her when she raced to her bedside had hardly helped to improve her disposition. A month of gorgeous blossoms, three days of sweet notes, and now suddenly nothing? There was no denying the sinking feeling in her chest when she saw the empty nightstand. She hadn’t realized how much she had come to look forward to the cheery blooms that greeted her each day, or how much she would miss their absence.
Scowling, she tossed her wet hair over her shoulder and slunk her way to her desk to slump down in the chair. Fine, she’d read the stupid reports, then. It wasn't as if there was anything else to do.
Snatching up a page from the stack, she scanned the first few lines listlessly, not really taking in the information. She read it again. Something about Venatori and where they’d last been sighted. They were close, but not close enough to worry about, and in small enough numbers that they could be easily dispatched.
Boring. No wonder Josephine would cull through the reports before passing them off to her. This could have instead been a quick mention at the war table rather than a few minutes’ worth of reading.
She flipped through the alarmingly tall pile, pulling a slightly crinkled page out from the midway point. All it took was one glance to see that this would be even more uninteresting information that she didn’t really need to have, but she started reading anyway. Why had Cullen wanted her to have these? Was he trying to bore her to death?
'I wonder whether it makes sense to do away with the idea entirely? Surely we can come up with a better arrangement than this. If you have the time, speak with—'
Why did that sound so familiar? She stopped, sliding her eyes back up the page to the beginning again.
'I wonder whether it makes sense to do away with the idea entirely? Surely we can—'
With trembling fingers, she reached down to yank open her desk drawer, fumbling through it for the three letters she’d stashed away there. Her heart raced as she laid them out on the desk beside the reports, carefully sliding yesterday’s note next to the sentence she’d just reread.
'I wonder whether'
'I wonder whether'
It was a perfect match.
Her heart hammered in her chest as she stared down at the papers. Cullen?
But he never talked to her! And he saw her every day, so surely if he’d harbored any interest he would have…
She bit her lip, thinking back to what Varric had said about her admirer needing to gather his nerve. Was the Commander truly so shy? Yes, she knew. The way he stammered when he was flustered — and everything she said seemed to fluster him these days, even a friendly hello — it suddenly wasn’t at all surprising to think that he might have opted to send anonymous gifts rather than declare his affection outright.
Or maybe this was his way of outing himself without having to say anything. Why else would he have had the reports sent straight to her? Josephine and Leliana insisted on going through every scrap of information before a single report ever reached Ellana’s desk; the Commander knew that. But if he’d hoped that she would make the connection, that she’d recognize his handwriting…
She could sit and think it over forever, but she had already had enough of waiting and wondering. Before her nerves could convince her otherwise, Ellana scooped up the reports and headed for the stairs, hoping that the Commander was still in his office.
The rain hadn’t let up, so when she burst through the door to Cullen’s office, the stack of papers clutched tightly to her chest, she was drenched.
He startled at his desk, cursing softly to himself as his eyes shot up to her face. “Inquisitor!”
“Hi,” she said breathlessly, noting the flush that was already spreading across his cheeks in the candlelight.
“Inquisitor, I…” He looked her up and down, the color in his face deepening as he took in her heaving chest beneath her rain-soaked robes, clinging tightly to her body. “Did you run all the way here? Ellana, you’re soaked to the bone.”
The way he said her name made her shiver. It was wonderful to hear him call her something besides Inquisitor. “Had to run,” she panted, “didn’t want your papers getting ruined.”
“My…” He shook his head at the stack of reports in her arms. “Jensen doesn’t hear a word I tell him,” he muttered under his breath. “I told the lad to deliver those to Josephine so that she could give them to you when she was finished. Maker’s breath, I don’t know why I bother to—”
His mouth clamped shut, a grimace spreading over his face. His chair scraped loudly over the floor when he stood and crossed the room to take the pile from her. “How much of these did you read?” he asked slowly, setting them carefully on his desk.
“Not much,” she admitted. “Enough.”
“Enough?”
Blushing, she reached into her robe to pull out the note she’d hidden there, then held it out to him shyly.
His cheeks couldn’t possibly get any redder. Cullen ran his hand through his hair to rub at the back of his neck, wincing quietly. “I don’t need to see it, I know what it says.”
“It’s your handwriting.”
“Yes.” It seemed to almost pain him to meet her eyes. When he did, she held his amber gaze, taking tentative steps forward to close the small distance between them.
“You sent me flowers? All of them? For a month?”
“I... I thought that they might brighten your days. After the first few weeks of watching the way you scowled through war councils, I had hoped to give you cause to smile.”
He said it so earnestly, she couldn’t help but to beam at him. "Well, it worked."
“Yes,” he said with a soft smile, timidly reaching up to cup her cheek in his hand, “It appears as though it has.”
The feeling of his skin on hers thrilled her. Struggling to keep her senses about her, she swallowed hard, trying to force herself not to blush. "I missed them today," she admitted. "I didn't realize how much seeing them there each day had come to mean to me. Thank you."
His smile was nearly as warm as the caress of his fingers on her cheek. She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes for a moment as her heart beat wildly, uncertain of what to say next.
His soft lips brushing over hers took her by surprise. Cullen kissed her softly, hesitantly, his mouth on hers just long enough to steal away her breath until she was pulling in a gasp of air. When her eyes fluttered open, she saw him watching her, his expression wavering between contrition and satisfaction.
“Is… was that alright?”
More than,” she assured him. “I can't begin to tell you how long I'd been hoping that you would… Cullen, you could have said something. You didn’t need to play games.”
“It wasn’t a game,” he said seriously, a hint of hurt in his eyes. “It was… You’re the Inquisitor, I didn’t think that you would… I didn’t know how to… Maker’s breath, Ellana, do I really have to say it?”
No. The way he was looking at her told her everything she needed to know. Still, she wanted to hear it, needed to hear it. “Say what?”
“The way I feel about you, it’s not… it’s not some passing fancy. I’ve tried to ignore it, tried to focus on my work, to tell myself that neither of us has the luxury of indulging in…In whatever this might be, but seeing you every morning, hearing your voice… How could I resist trying?”
“Trying?”
“To make you smile. Hoping that someday…”
She felt ridiculous, repeating everything he said, but the word slipped out regardless. “Someday?”
Was that a smirk on his lips? He let out a puff of laughter, looking down into her wide eyes with a fondness that made her heart skip a beat. “That someday, you might return my feelings. That is if I ever got up the nerve to tell you. For months now, all I could think about was—”
She cut him off with a fervid kiss, lifting herself up on her toes to press her body against his warm chest, her arms wrapping snugly around the back of his neck. The noise he made against her lips was delicious — a quiet oomph of surprise when her body collided with his — and then he was kissing her back enthusiastically, his hands grasping her firmly by her hips to pull her closer.
His mouth was perfect on hers, sweet and passionate, full of promising heat. She kissed him until she was dizzy, swaying on her feet, and then she pulled away from his lips with a happy sigh. Finally.
“So… that’s a yes, then? I've managed to catch your interest?” This time, he definitely was smirking.
“Yes,” she said, biting back a soft giggle. “I’m hardly cruel enough to set a man’s heart aflame only to leave it burning unattended.”
He groaned, ducking his head bashfully. “I’m not… particularly proud of that line, er...flowery as it was, so to speak. I’d be happy for you to forget I ever wrote such a thing. Going from writing reports and itineraries to words of affection is hardly the easiest thing to do. Perhaps you'd be willing to remember one of the other notes I wrote, maybe—”
Softly, she rested her fingers against his lips to silence him. Questioning, warm eyes met hers, and she smiled.
“You are.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her fingertips, murmuring around them, “I am what?”
“Often in my thoughts,” she whispered, tipping her face back up for another kiss.
He obliged her.