Work Text:
Flufftober & Fictober 2022: Day 4
Prompt: Slow Dancing + "Who said this is a good idea?"
Cullen scanned the ballroom, searching for the Inquisitor. He quickly found each of her companions, some clustered together and others standing on the sidelines, carefully hidden from view. The band was playing their lively tunes loudly enough that the hum of chatter was barely audible above it.
They’d somehow managed the impossible. They’d saved the Empress and stabilized Orlais. Or he should say, she had done it. It may not have been exactly what he had advised, but the end result was ultimately what they’d all desired; peace.
Cullen had felt relieved to see things resolved. Though he had expected that things would change, once again, after the events of this evening, he hadn’t anticipated the immediate shift in the Inquisitor’s behavior when she realized that she was now the main source of interest among the Orlesians. All eyes had begun following her every move as she made her way around the ballroom. Freja was not the type to enjoy being the center of attention. Perhaps that was what made her the perfect candidate to lead their cause.
He pushed past a small group of women huddled together, avoiding their flirtatious glances and ignoring their giggles as his gaze finally landed on Evelyn. His heart jumped as he realized she was standing just a few meters in front of Freja’s personal guards, gathered dutifully in front of a doorway that led to a balcony. Their eyes met across the room, and he began moving toward her.
“She’s trying to hide, you know?” Evelyn asked Cullen curtly as he approached. He looked past her, past the guards, and smiled as he recognized the petite figure leaning against the railing outside. She’d managed to escape onto the balcony which Empress Celene had occupied for most of the evening.
“From the masses, Lady Trevelyan. Not from me,” he responded with a hint of force. Evelyn smirked at him as he stood in front of her. The Inquisition guards regarded him silently. He’d been the one to assign them to their current positions, knowing they were the right soldiers for the job.
“Oh? And what makes you so special, Commander?” she asked, crossing her arms against her chest defiantly. Cullen let out a chuckle and smiled at her. The elder sister of the Inquisitor was a spitfire, and he admired her greatly. He stepped closer to the woman and gently gripped her elbow. He looked into her eyes, sky blue with a mixture of light lavender throughout the irises. She and Freja had such similar features, though Evelyn’s features were sharper, her jawline cut more harshly, and her dark brown hair couldn’t hold a flame to her younger sister’s bright red hue.
“I believe you know, my lady. She is special to me,” he admitted softly, so quietly that Evelyn could barely hear him over the music. She stared at him for a moment before glancing back at her younger sister. She’d been through so much in the past several months, and all she wanted to do was protect her, though it seemed that each step forward for the Inquisition required her risking her life.
“If you really mean that, then maybe you’ll find a way to keep her from being put in harm’s way at every turn,” she quipped as she turned back toward him, holding his gaze pointedly. He hesitated, knowing that wasn’t an option.
“I’m afraid we’ve only just begun, my lady.” His voice held strong, though he felt his heart hammering in his chest at the thought. He’d realized what a fool he’d been at Haven. Letting Freja blatantly risk her own life. Though the reasoning had been sound, he’d regret that decision for the rest of his days. He knew they still had a long way to go in their fight against Corypheus, but he’d do everything in his power to keep the odds in the Inquisition’s favor. In her favor.
“And who said that any of this was a good idea, anyway? Who decided it should be Freja to lead your cause and risk her life?” Evelyn demanded heartily, her chest lightly heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Cullen looked at her sympathetically.
“Maker,” he breathed softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he quickly glanced toward Freja once again. He watched her for a moment before looking back down at Evelyn. “It was mostly circumstance that brought Freja to the Inquisition, but she carries the mantle bravely. She may have the need to escape occasionally, but as long as she has people like me, and you, and her companions at her side, I have every confidence that she’ll lead us to victory.”
Evelyn smiled gently at the commander and eventually nodded her head.
“Don’t forget my brothers, Commander. They’ll be returning to Skyhold within a fortnight,” she reminded him with a chuckle. Cullen cleared his throat and clasped his hands tightly together, a nervous expression on his face.
“Oh, I certainly won’t be forgetting about them anytime soon, my lady. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he inclined his head in her direction, signaling his respect for her, but graciously ending the conversation as he walked around her and kindly greeted the guards as he joined Freja on the balcony.
“There you are,” a familiar voice declared softly from behind her. She turned her head slightly and smiled as he approached. He leaned down and rested his arms on the railing, mirroring her own posture, returning the smile she offered as he searched her face. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Sorry, Cullen. I had to get out of there,” Freja admitted as she turned to look back at the horizon in the distance. The sun had long since set and the moon was casting its pale glow down on them. She could understand why the Empress had preferred to spend most of her evening out here. The view was absolutely breathtaking, and it was private. Set away from the bustle of the ball. “You know, I’ve been around nobles my whole life, but even that couldn’t have prepared me for Orlesian Society.”
She and Cullen chuckled in unison. They remained silent long enough for Freja to hear Cullen hum thoughtfully before speaking. “I suppose it won’t help if I admit that I was genuinely worried for you tonight,” he professed in a soft tone. She turned her head toward him again and looked into his eyes. His gaze hadn’t left her though she’d looked away. “This entire operation had me on edge. I knew I had to trust you. And now it’s over. Are you all right?”
Freja let out one of her angelic chuckles that he’d come to cherish as she pushed away from the railing, feeling the skirts of her dress brush lightly against her legs as she turned around and clutched her arms close to her body.
“I suppose I should be used to these dangerous missions by now, shouldn’t I?” she asked gravely. “I’ve been fighting for months now, even went up against the Elder One and lived to talk about it.”
She heard Cullen’s boots scuffle against the rough concrete of the balcony flooring and felt his presence behind her. His hand landed softly on her elbow and she turned toward him again. Her bright blue eyes clashed with his honey brown and she felt her heart begin to race as he closed the space between them. He stood directly in front of her, the closest he’d let himself get outside the privacy of their own quarters.
“Let us hope that this ends before you become numb to the dangers,” he whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers.
The rhythm of the music drifting out from the ballroom slowed and Cullen smiled, taking a small step back. Freja looked at him with a confused expression as he bowed and held his hand out toward her. “In the meantime, may I have this dance, my lady?”
“But I thought you didn’t dance, Commander,” Freja teased with a playful grin. She placed her small hand delicately in his and allowed him to pull her close once again. “We may never get another chance like this.”
“Never say never, my lady. I’ll have to put my best foot forward,” he answered as he placed his hand on her hip and began to lead her to the slow beat of the music. “And for you, I’ll certainly try.”