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It was barely mid-morning when Cullen arrived at the Herald’s cabin. He made doubly sure that he had waited a whole fifteen minutes after their war council meeting had ended before he went over to there. She had just handed in her report on her venture to the Fallow Mire half an hour prior when she had asked each of them to meet with her individually over the course of the day. Apparently, she’s doing this with every member in her inner circle and he was the first one. He didn’t quite understand what she expected to accomplish in their meeting, given that she was only the Herald and didn’t officially lead the Inquisition. Nonetheless, there he was at her doorway, counting down the seconds until he could knock, with his mouth flattened into a hard line.
Five, four, three, two, one.
He rapped on the doorframe two times with a closed fist, punctual and precise without being overbearing. By the end of the first knock, however, he heard her swear and a huge ruckus erupted from the other side of the door. Was she busy? Why would she call him out here only to bustle around in surprise when he arrived? One of Cullen’s eyebrows quirked up in a mixture of bemusement and irritation.
“Is this a bad time, Herald?” He called out, “I’ve a million other things to attend to and you appear to be busy yourself.”
“Oh, no, no, no!” The Herald responded breathlessly, “Come on in, I’m sorry for the wait!” Cullen sighed and opened the door to find Artemis sitting at her desk. Despite her attempt to look casual with her legs crossed and an arm lying on the wooden surface, it was painfully obvious that he just interrupted her nap or whatever she was doing. Her hair was all in a fuss, surprisingly curly when it’s out of its braid, her clothes look disheveled as if she just crawled out of bed- is that her belt lying on the floor?- and her expression of wild eyes, bright red cheeks, and pathetic attempt to hide her panting made her look incredibly suspicious.
Cullen suppressed his urge to laugh. “I take it that I just woke you from a moment’s rest,” he stated coolly, taking a couple steps into the cabin. Artemis’s eyes widened and she gripped the desk briefly before nodding.
“Yes, you did,” she stammered as she smoothed her hair back. “Yes, I had a terrible night’s sleep and it is my usual thing to take a nap after our meetings anyways, just to process everything, and I thought you would arrive fifteen minutes from now as you finished a report- or something- and, yes, you caught me red-handed.” She grinned up at him sheepishly. “You caught me napping. That was quite shameful and I do apologize for the unprofessionalism that is presently being displayed right now at this current moment. Yes. I was napping.” She slapped the desk and nodded once more in affirmation. Cullen stared back at her as her blush deepened, a grin plastered to her face. A profound silence filled the cabin, save for a soft humming noise originating from somewhere in the cabin. Artemis’s eyes slowly widened, as did her grin, while Cullen stared blankly back at her. A solid minute passed before she coughed lightly and clapped her hand on her knee.
“So, yes! Meeting!” The Herald chirped, pulling out a quill and ink. “I wanted to meet with everyone individually because I want your opinions on this matter with a one-on-one atmosphere. I just find it better this way, because it’s more personal and, at least I find it to be, less intimidating.” Cullen groaned with exasperation.
“Herald, if this is about your intent to recruit the mages, you know exactly-“ His clipped response was cut short as she waved her hands in front of her and vehemently voiced her denial.
“That wasn’t it at all,” she cried, “I just noticed that the Inquisition has low morale and I wanted to meet with you individually to try and find ways that we can lift our members’ spirits!”
The Commander made a grunt of approval as he leaned against her wall. She had tried to discuss various forms of improving the Inquisition, but they always got cut off by some random scout with a report before she could formally state her opinion. It would make sense why she would seek them out individually so that there would be no interruptions.
“Well, for starters, our food portions are meager compared to a regular army’s,” Cullen began with a professional air. The Herald’s eyes lit up and she turned to her paper and started scribbling wildly. “I would argue that we don’t have proper fortifications and our trebuchets require calibration, but that could hardly be- what are you even doing?” He glanced at the paper she’s writing in and chuckled. A series of arbitrary scrawls filled up the paper, lines going every which direction and they looked like nothing he had ever seen before.
Artemis looked at him puzzled, glanced at her paper, and gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry, I should explain,” The Herald blushed as she met his eyes only to swiftly look away. The pink rising to her face really did highlight the freckles on her nose. Maker, she could really be- inappropriate thoughts, remain professional. “I have a certain love of languages. Ander, Avvar, Orlesian, Antivan, I study them all whenever I get the chance.” She smiled down at her paper with what still appeared to be nothing more than mere scribbles. “So I figured, why not build a language of my own? I’m still working out the orthography, as you can see, but I write in it when it’s just my private notes. Makes for an interesting conversation piece, wouldn’t you say?”
The corners of Cullen’s lips twitched up into a smile of his own. “What is the name of your language?” He inquired, eyes now trying to make sense of the notes.
She beamed with delight. “I call it Mythslarazky,” she proclaimed excitedly. “I’ve been working on it on-and-off for just over a year now!”
“Say something in it.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Of course! I’m curious!”
“Oh, okay, I’d be happy to. Maker, no one has actually asked me this before, I don’t know what to say.”
“How about the first thing that comes to your mind.”
“Cevestakrîjati ta, vokhy ta ceravtelasi khodynes ri!”
”And what does that translate to?”
“…I wanted fried chicken when I woke up this morning.”
Cullen stared at her in mild shock, trying to process what she just said. He started snorting, trying to cover the crooked grin growing on his face. Unable to hold it in, he busted out laughing until his face turned beet red. Artemis’s face grew hot as she giggled nervously. Her pupils dilated at the sight of his mirth, but it was clear that it’s a personal topic that he found humor in. His guffaws subsided and he looked at her timid posture. He cleared his throat and stood upright.
“I’m sorry for that display, Herald,” A corner of his mouth twitched up as he suppressed what was threatening to become snickering. “I just didn’t expect you to say something like that. I would greatly enjoy fried chicken myself, actually. Your language sounds lovely.” Artemis relaxed and sighed in relief. Then, her eyes lit up and she lifted a finger up.
“I got an idea,” she said, turning to her paper once more. “So, we know that Ferelden is fairly large, right?” Cullen grunted in agreement. “And while there is a universal language spoken throughout the kingdom, there’s bound to be various dialects with varying degrees of acceptability, right?” Cullen assented again, not liking where this conversation was going. She looked up at him. “Do you think that we could institute a form of language appreciation? Like, do a thing where we encourage soldiers and the like to speak their native dialects.” Cullen’s eye twitched in muted horror. “You come from Honnleath, right?”
“How did you learn about that?”
“I got my hands on your dossier from when you joined the Inquisition.”
“I thought the dossiers were hidden in some sort of vault.”
“Oh, they are! But I have my ways.”
“Ugh. Yes, I’m from Honnleath. Yes, there was a gigantic statue there for as long as I remember. No, it’s not there anymore and I haven’t the slightest clue of what happened to it. And yes, I did notice that the bird population in the surrounding area has vastly diminished since the statue vanished. And no, I do not think that the population has fallen because of some weird curse someone dumped on the statue as a joke. Does that answer your questions, Herald?” Cullen glared at Artemis who just stared back at him with a puzzled look on her face.
“I mean, I wasn’t about to ask any of those questions you preemptively answered, but okay.” She cocked her head quizzically. Cullen slapped a hand to his face. “I was going to ask you if Honnleath has a certain dialect of its own.” And then his face blanched and his mouth puckered up to the point where the mage pondered where his lips had gone. He glanced around the room with slight panic to make sure no one was looking and then tensely nodded.
Artemis giggled. “Of course, you know that I have to ask why you’re acting that way.” She reclined in her chair with a casual grace. The ex-templar’s head rocked from side to side as he debated how to word his answer properly.
“Honnleath’s manner of speech is not always… met with the same amount of respect as one you might find in, say, Redcliffe.” Cullen slowly stated, scratching the back of his head. “I guess you might say that we’re looked down upon by other towns for being ‘too country’ or ‘backwater.’”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, it’s not quite the same as other dialects. It’s a lot more… colloquial. Quaint.”
“So, you’re saying that people look at people from Honnleath as being uncultured or uneducated.”
“My words exactly.”
“Can I hear it?” Artemis leaned forward, putting her quill down and resting her chin on both hands. Cullen straightened up even more and shook his head rapidly. Artemis smirked.
“I let you hear Mythslarazky, didn’t I?”
“This is different!” Cullen argued. “You merely adopted that language, I was born in mine! Every person in Honnleath makes doubly sure that when they become of schooling age that they learn the proper Fereldan vernacular.”
“I understand, and you know I won’t judge. I study languages and all of them are equal, just different from each other.”
“You’re right. I am making a huge deal out of this, Cullen sighed in defeat. He glanced at both windows. “I will only speak in it if we ensure that no one is overhearing.” Artemis nodded and looked out the window in front of her. She checked every direction, paying special attention to the ground to make sure that no one was crouching underneath her gaze. Cullen stalked over to the other window by her bed and did the same.
“Are you sure that no one will hear about this?” He pressed. Artemis extended her little finger towards him.
“Pinky promise that I won’t tell anyone.” She winked. The Commander locked fingers with her and they shook.
Taking a deep breath, Cullen crossed his arms and started speaking.“Now, ah reckon that y’all wanted to hear somethin’ uh little lahk this.” He shifted his gaze upwards. Artemis wheezed in surprise. “This is what we sound lahk back in Honnleath. Ah wouldn’t say that othuh Fereldans lahk hearin’ us talkin’ lahk this, so ah do mah best to keep it under wraps, ye hear?” Artemis cackled and clapped her hands in sheer delight. This just wasn’t a typical country accent; Cullen sounded like the textbook definition of a hillbilly! “Why y’all be hootin’ an’ hollerin’ at the way ah speak, huh?” Cullen looked down at her with a smirk on his face. “Didn’t yer maw teach y’all some proper manners? Ah say, gurl, y’all be laughin’ up a storm with that kinda attitude and mah maw would sort you out quicker than she can find a needle out of uh haystack.” Artemis kept giggling as she stood up. She met his eyes with unrestrained mirth as she walked over to him.
“That is the greatest thing I’ve heard in a long time, Commander.” She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. He smiled and returned the hug.
“Just remember that ah want to keep this secret, y’all hear me right now?” He leaned back to make strict eye contact with her. “If y’all be earnestly doin’ this kinda language appreciation shindig, ah’ll start talkin’ lahk this. But only then an’ only durin’ that time.” She nodded and grinned.
“That was incredible, thank you, Cullen.” She said and turned to make her way back to her desk. “I’ll confer with Josephine about how we can arrange a policy like that and make it feel inclusive to everyone, regardless of background. I’ll make a special note not to bring you up.” Cullen nodded and started to leave.
“Wait, before you go!” She called out. He turned back around.
“Yes, ma’am?” He asked. She smiled warmly back at him.
“Thank you for trusting me with that, I can appreciate your apprehension and I just want to honor that. And if you want, I will always be happy to hear you speak in your native dialect.” Cullen grinned back at her, crooked in its candor. Then he turned and went to attend to the rest of the duties, closing the door gently behind him.
Up on the rooftop of the cabin, Leliana peered out from her vantage point. Once the Commander exited the main gates to train the new recruits, she rolled off to the side, making sure that she was as silent as possible, and then she padded her way over to the Ambassador. Josephine will never believe this, and so early in the day, too!
~
The next day, the Commander and Herald entered Haven’s chantry at the same time. Mumbling a brief “good morning” to each other, they opened the door to the war room to find Leliana and Josephine already in place with conniving smiles on their faces. Cullen and Artemis exchanged glances, faces equal in wariness. Something was up. Cullen slowly closed the door behind him and crept his way over to his end of the table.
“Good morning, Lady Ambassador and Leliana.” He uttered, each syllable halting as if he didn’t dare finish the sentence. True to his trepidations, Leliana’s smirk expanded into a wicked grin. Josephine cackled. All blood drained out of Cullen’s face.
“Well, hoooowwwwwwwwwday!” The women cried in unison before high-fiving and laughing hysterically. Cullen turned to Artemis with betrayal in his eyes. She looked back at him in abject horror.
“I have no idea where they got that from!” She defended herself from the Commander’s accusatory glare. “You saw me; I checked every spot that I could!”
Leliana wheezed. “But y’all forgot ‘bout the roof, now, didn’t’cha?” The spymaster slapped a hand on the table. “Ah wouldn’t put it past ya, ah was ovuh on Cullen’s sahd anyhow!” Her head fell onto the pile of books in front of her as she continued to make no honest attempt to stifle her guffawing. As the two women continued their shrill shrieks, Cullen and Artemis met eyes and nodded in unison. Language Appreciation Day could go to hell.