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News of the Inquisitor’s health deteriorating travelled across Thedas like a wildfire. From all corners of the continent, people travelled to Skyhold to pay their respects, hoping to see the elderly woman one last time. He watched a parade of diplomatic visits: elderly ambassadors, some of which they had known for so long they were practically family. Josephine Montilyet, wrapped in blue and gold silk, her once dark curls now silverwhite as she sat by the side of the elderly Inquisitor. The Lady Róisín Trevelyan was a small figure in a large bed, long white hair fanned across her pillow, her wrinkled face marked by laughter that could be heard right now as she joked with Josephine. Cullen sat at her bedside, holding her hand, caressing the tender, wrinkled skin. 60 years of a loving marriage, and still when he looked at her she was the most beautiful woman in all the world.
That evening when the guests left and quiet returned to Skyhold, he brushed her hair and kissed her forehead.
“Come under the cover with me. My feet are cold and I want to warm them on your butt,” she said with that laugh he loved so.
“Do you now?” he asked with a cheerful chuckle. “I’ll have to struggle with these old bones of mine.”
He climbed into bed, groaning, old bones creaking. He pulled the duvet over them and wrapped his arms around her, her back against his chest. His hands brushed through her hair and he kissed her temple. She reached back behind him, and softly squeezed one cheek of his behind. She chuckled.
“Still the finest arse of Thedas… Remember our first kiss?” she asked.
“As if it were yesterday.”
He kisses her cheek. “Have you talked to Aislin*?”
“Hm. She will be fine. I know she will. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Will you be fine?”
He did not respond. He held her, stared quietly into nothing, arms clutched around her.
“I don’t know. Maker, I… I don’t know if I can imagine a life without you.”
“You’re an old man, Cullen, sweetheart. It won’t be a long life,” she teased. He chuckled, buried his face in her hair. He felt her small hands, her fingers curled around his. “Cullen?”
“Róisín.”
“I want you to know one thing. I want you to know that you were the light of my life. That you have given me a life I never could have imagined. When the conclave blew up around me… I thought my future would just be disaster after disaster. But then I met you. And every day became a bit brighter. You have given me so much. And I hope I was able to give you some of it back. Before I go… I want you to know… for now and forever: I love you.”
His arms closed tight around her.
“And I love you, my Ros.”
The Inquisitor and her Commander fell asleep in each other’s arms. For one last time.