9 – 14 Kingsway 9:29
They secured passage on a boat quickly, to Ariana’s relief. She didn’t want to linger at the docks any longer than necessary. Even though Cullen assured her that Michael would be tied up with assigned duties for the day, she couldn’t shake her unease. The idea of being caught now, after the quiet, heartfelt moments they’d shared—their laughter, the way he’d said her name, Maker—was unbearable. The last thing she wanted was to lose him or be forced to run again.
As the boat drifted southward across the still waters of Lake Calenhad, Cullen seemed more at ease than she’d ever seen him. The tension that usually marked his posture softened, replaced by a quiet curiosity. His questions grew more personal, his curiosity about her life in Ostwick bubbling over. He asked what exactly she was running from, and how she had come to be here. He leaned back, his hands resting casually on the edges of the boat as he glanced at her. “So,” he said with a small grin, “is Ryss even your real name?.”
Ariana chuckled, a playful gleam in her eye “Fine. Let me introduce myself properly.” Straightening her posture and adopting an exaggeratedly formal tone, she said, “Lady Ariana Ryss Trevelyan, youngest daughter of Bann Charles Trevelyan of Ostwick…” Her voice trailed off as she broke into laughter, unable to maintain the facade.
Cullen laughed along with her, though the words lingered in his mind. Trevelyan. A noble house, one with significant ties to the Chantry. He remembered Greagoir’s words about her family. He couldn’t shake the feeling of intimidation. She wasn’t just anyone—she was nobility, someone raised in a world of titles, balls, and expectations. And here he was, a Templar from a modest farming family, with no claim to status or wealth. Maybe I was right, he thought, his smile faltering for just a moment. Someone like her deserves more than someone like me could give her. Yet the way she looked at him, her eyes warm and inviting, stirred a hope he struggled to suppress.
Their journey continued, and for the first time, Ariana felt the weight of secrecy lift. She told him everything. She spoke of the ambush at the party, her mother’s relentless obsession with status, the engagement to Frederick, and her reasons for fleeing.
At the mention of her engagement to Frederick, Cullen’s expression tightened imperceptibly. She didn’t seem to notice, lost in her own recounting. But inside, a hint of jealousy stirred. He reminded himself that she had rejected that life, that she had chosen freedom over duty. Yet the thought of her being tied to another man, of her belonging to a world where she’d be caged by expectations, left an ache he couldn’t quite ignore.
He shifted slightly, his gaze falling to the water as she continued. The idea of Ariana in another man’s arms, as someone else’s wife, twisted something deep within him. He hated the thought of her being stripped of her independence, of that light in her eyes being dimmed by obligation. But alongside his jealousy was an even stronger feeling—admiration. She had fought for her freedom, risked everything to carve her own path. And she had trusted him enough to share that with him.
When she finished, silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Cullen glanced back at her, watching as the sunlight danced across her features. He wanted to tell her how incredible he thought she was, how much he admired her strength and courage. But the words caught in his throat, trapped by doubt and a fear of overstepping.
Instead, he said softly, “You’ve been through so much… and yet you’re still standing. That’s no small thing.”
She turned to him, her smile soft but genuine. “And yet,” she said, her tone teasing, “I seem to have a habit of getting myself into trouble.”
Cullen chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, if trouble comes looking for you, at least you’ll have someone watching your back.”
Ariana’s heart fluttered at his words, the quiet sincerity in his voice leaving her momentarily speechless. She looked out over the water, unsure if he realized the effect he had on her. She wasn’t sure where this connection between them might lead, but for now, she was content to let the journey carry them forward.
~~~
By the time nightfall came, the boat reached the shores of Redcliffe, its silhouette striking against the dusky sky. The village was nestled against the rocky cliffs that gave it its name, the towering red stones almost glowing in the fading sunlight. A castle loomed above on the bluffs, its dark outline a reminder of the land’s history. Below, the village lights twinkled warmly, smoke curling from chimneys as residents went about their evening routines. The tranquil waters of the lake reflected the orange and pink hues of the sunset, creating a scene so picturesque that Ariana paused for a moment to take it all in.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, her voice tinged with awe.
Cullen smiled, his gaze shifting from the view to her. “It has its charm. Wait until you see Honnleath, though. It’s simpler, quieter.”
They disembarked and made their way into the village, the cobbled streets uneven beneath their boots. Despite the late hour, the streets were still lively with merchants packing up their wares and villagers finishing their chores. The air smelled of wood smoke, baked goods, and the faint tang of the lake. They found a modest inn near the center of the village, its wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze, depicting a hound curled by a fire.
Inside, the inn was warm and welcoming, the hearth blazing and casting golden light across the room. The innkeeper greeted them with a cheerful smile, showing them to a small but clean room with two beds and a shared nightstand between them. Once they’d stowed their belongings, they made their way downstairs for dinner.
The common room was lively but not overly crowded, the hum of conversation and occasional laughter creating a cozy atmosphere. They found a table near the hearth, where Cullen ordered a hearty stew, fresh bread, and mugs of ale for them both.
As they ate, their conversation turned easily to their respective lives.
Ariana shared more about her time in Kirkwall, her stories colored with humor and intrigue. She spoke of her adventures and the people she’d met, careful not to delve too deeply into Varric’s affairs or name him outright. Instead, she focused on the friendships she’d forged and how they had helped her navigate a city as chaotic as Kirkwall.
Cullen listened intently, his expression warm as he absorbed her tales. “Kirkwall sounds… overwhelming,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I don’t know if I could handle a place like that.”
She smiled. “It’s not for everyone. It took me a while to adjust, but once I did, it felt like home. Well, as much as anywhere can feel like home when you’re running.”
He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “It sounds like you found people who cared about you there. That’s rare.”
In turn, Cullen spoke about what awaited her in Honnleath, his voice softening with fondness. He described the village as small and unassuming, nestled among rolling hills and sprawling farmland. “It’s peaceful,” he said, his tone almost wistful. “The kind of place where nothing really changes, and everyone knows each other.”
He went on to talk about his siblings, especially his older sister, Mia. “She’ll probably be the one asking all the questions,” he warned with a teasing smile. “She’s relentless when it comes to details, so… brace yourself.”
Ariana laughed, her curiosity piqued. “And your other siblings?”
“Branson, my younger brother—he’s the practical one. Always busy, always helping out around the farm. And then there’s Rosalie, the youngest. She’s got more energy than anyone I’ve ever met.” His expression softened as he spoke, a rare glimpse of vulnerability that made her heart ache a little.
“You must miss them,” she said gently.
“I do,” he admitted. “I don’t write as often as I should, and Mia never lets me forget it. She’ll probably have a lecture ready as soon as I walk through the door.”
Ariana smiled, finding comfort in the way he spoke about his family. It was clear that, despite the distance and the demands of his duties, they were still a source of strength for him.
As their conversation wound down, the innkeeper brought over a plate of honey cakes as a complimentary treat. They shared the dessert, their laughter and easy banter filling the space between them. For a moment, it felt as though the weight of their respective worlds had lifted, leaving only the simple joy of each other’s company.
By the time they returned to their room, the village had quieted, the only sounds the occasional murmur of voices from the common room below and the distant call of an owl. As Ariana settled into bed, her thoughts lingered on Cullen’s stories, the warmth in his voice, and the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She fell asleep with a smile, feeling, for the first time in a long while, that she wasn’t running alone.
~~~
They set out at dawn, the rising sun painting the horizon in hues of gold and pink as they began their journey. Two days of travel lay ahead, and the rhythm of their steps fell into an easy cadence. Conversation ebbed and flowed between them, punctuated by stretches of comfortable silence. Ariana marveled at how natural it felt to be around Cullen. She didn’t feel the need to perform or prove anything. She could just be herself.
By evening, they found a clearing to make camp, the open space framed by tall pines and the soft glow of the setting sun. Cullen busied himself building a fire, the steady scrape of flint and steel filling the air. Ariana sat nearby, unpacking her belongings, though her movements were absentminded. Her thoughts drifted to his stories about Mia—his fiercely protective sister. She imagined the questions Mia might ask, the way she might see right through Ariana’s carefully guarded exterior.
But it wasn’t just Mia that troubled her. Ariana couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at her, the weight of the danger she brought with her. Mercenaries, hired by the Duke of Markham, were actively searching for her. If they tracked her here… Cullen had a family that loved and depended on him. What right did she have to jeopardize that?
Am I selfish for staying? she wondered, her fingers mindlessly smoothing and folding her blanket.
The fire sparked to life, its warm glow spreading across the clearing, but Ariana didn’t notice. She was too lost in her thoughts, her mind a tangle of fear and self-recrimination.
Cullen had been watching her for a while, his task finished. He noticed the way her eyes seemed distant, her movements slower, as if she were caught in some invisible struggle. He recognized that look—the heavy weight of worry dragging someone down. He couldn’t stand to see it in her.
“Ariana?” he called softly, his voice breaking through the haze of her thoughts.
Her head snapped up, startled. “What? Oh… yes, sorry,” she stammered, blinking as if waking from a dream. “Did you ask me something?”
Cullen moved closer, his worry deepening. “You seemed… far away,” he said gently, kneeling down beside her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
The question, so simple yet so sincere, brought a lump to her throat. Before she could stop herself, tears welled in her eyes, spilling over and streaking down her cheeks. She didn’t even know what she was crying over—whether it was the exhaustion of the journey, the constant fear of being caught, or the overwhelming relief of having someone who cared enough to ask.
“Ariana—what’s wrong?” Cullen’s voice was filled with alarm, and before she could answer, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a protective embrace. She buried her face against his shoulder, letting his warmth and steady presence soothe her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered between shaky breaths. “I don’t even know why… I just—” Her voice cracked, and she pulled back slightly, wiping at her cheeks. “I’m worried, Cullen. About all of this. About your family. About what I might be dragging you into.”
Cullen’s brow furrowed as he listened, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. “What do you mean?” he asked, his tone steady, encouraging her to continue.
“I’m being hunted,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “There are mercenaries looking for me—hired by the Duke of Markham. I don’t know what they’re capable of, how far they’d go. If they find me, if they follow me to your family…” Her words came in a torrent, the weight of her fears pouring out all at once. “I shouldn’t have come with you. It’s not fair to you or your family.”
Cullen reached for her hands, his grip firm but gentle, grounding her. “Ariana, listen to me,” he said, his voice calm but resolute. “You’re not dragging me into anything I can’t handle. You do remember I’m a Templar, right? I’m trained for this—for protecting people, for standing up to anyone who threatens them.”
“But your family…” she began, her voice filled with worry.
“My family can take care of themselves,” he interrupted, his expression softening. “And I won’t let anything happen to them. Or to you.”
Ariana searched his face, her eyes glistening with doubt. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m here,” he said simply, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You’re not alone anymore.”
His words washed over her, soothing her frayed nerves. She let out a shaky breath, a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
They sat there in silence for a while, the fire crackling softly beside them. Without thinking, Ariana leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Cullen held her, realizing only then the faint, comforting scent of cinnamon in her hair. It was a simple detail, but it stirred something unexpectedly gentle in him. Bringing one hand up, he cradled her head, letting his fingers brush over her hair.
In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the mercenaries, not the uncertainty of tomorrow. For now, Ariana was safe. And Cullen, holding her close, felt a quiet determination settle in his chest. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them—because she was worth it. Because she was his.
As the stars began to appear overhead, Cullen whispered, “You’re incredible, Ari. Even when it’s your life and your fate at risk you’re worried about everyone else.”
The nickname startled her, but it brought a warmth to her chest she couldn’t deny. She tilted her head to look up at him, her smile soft and genuine. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she replied, her voice light with affection.
The world around them faded into the background as they sat together by the fire, the night wrapping them in a cocoon of quiet intimacy. For the first time, both of them felt as though they had found something worth holding onto. Without realizing it, she drifted off, nestled into the space between his shoulder and neck, and Cullen let her rest there, feeling the warmth of her body against him.
~~~
As the morning light filtered through the canopy of trees, Ariana stirred, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she was disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings catching her off guard. This isn’t my bedroll, she realized, blinking as memories from the previous night began to surface. The warmth of the campfire, the steady rhythm of Cullen’s voice, and then… Ari. She smiled softly, recalling the way his voice had caressed the nickname, how it had felt like something intimate, uniquely hers.
Pushing herself up, she glanced around the camp. Cullen was nowhere in sight, but her pack was neatly propped against a nearby log, clearly packed and ready for the day ahead. She couldn’t help but notice the care in the way it was arranged, a small detail that made her chest tighten with warmth. She wandered over to the remnants of the fire, crouching down to feel the lingering heat in the coals, her fingers stretching toward it as if to draw strength from its fading warmth.
“Good morning, Ari,” came Cullen’s voice from behind her, steady and warm like the morning sun itself. “You’re awake. Did you sleep well?”
She turned, startled but instantly comforted by his presence. Meeting his gaze, she found herself momentarily caught by the way he looked at her—gentle, attentive, as though she were the only thing in his world at that moment. Her lips curved into a smile, and she let out a soft breath. “I did,” she said, her voice carrying a warmth that mirrored his. “Thank you, Cullen… again.”
His expression softened, and he nodded as if satisfied by her response. “Good. If you’re ready, we should get moving.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on her as though reluctant to break the quiet serenity of the morning. “If all goes well, we’ll make it to Honnleath by dinnertime.”
They fell into step beside each other as they resumed their journey, the rhythm of their strides synchronizing with an effortless ease. Conversation came naturally, interspersed with comfortable silences that felt as meaningful as the words they shared.
They talked of many things—her love of astronomy, the way the night sky had always called to her. Ariana recounted how, as a child, she would lie in the grass, staring up at the constellations, imagining the stories they held. She spoke of her father’s tales, a blend of truth and whimsy, and how she used to trace the patterns of the stars with her finger, pretending they were guiding her.
“So, the Visus constellation,” Cullen said, his curiosity piqued. “You’re saying a twinkling star told you to ‘run’?” His tone was teasing, but the kindness in his eyes tempered it.
“Yes,” she replied, laughing softly. “It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? But that night, it felt like guidance. I needed a sign, something to give me courage, and it was as if the stars themselves answered.”
Cullen glanced upward, his gaze following hers to the faint outlines of constellations barely visible in the daytime sky. “I don’t think it sounds ridiculous at all,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “Sometimes, we all need a sign to remind us we’re on the right path.”
His words lingered between them, a quiet reassurance that made her smile.
The hours passed quickly as they walked, their conversation weaving a tapestry of shared stories and gentle laughter. As the light began to fade, the silhouette of Honnleath appeared on the horizon, nestled against the rolling hills like a storybook village.
Cullen slowed his pace as they approached, a mix of excitement and nervousness flickering in his expression. “Ready?” he asked, glancing at her. “It’s Saturday night, so my family should all be there.”
Ariana’s gaze fell on the cozy stone cottage he pointed out, its thatched roof framed by ivy that crept up the walls. Warm light spilled from the windows, casting a welcoming glow over the tidy garden. She felt her breath hitch as a knot of nerves tightened in her chest. “Your whole family…” she murmured, almost to herself. “Well, that doesn’t sound intimidating at all.”
Cullen’s laugh broke the tension, the sound rich and warm, cutting through her apprehension. It pulled a smile from her despite herself, and she turned to him, her nerves easing under the weight of his reassuring presence.
“You’ll be fine, Ari,” he said, his voice steady and confident. He rested a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Trust me. They’re going to love you.”
She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head at his confidence. “You seem very sure of that,” she said, a teasing note in her voice.
“I am,” he replied simply, his gaze holding hers. And in that moment, she believed him.
With a deep breath, Ariana squared her shoulders and nodded. Together, they made their way toward the cottage, the warmth of its light and the promise of what lay ahead filling the air between them.
~~~
As Cullen stepped through the doorway, the familiar warmth of his parents’ home wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. The rich aroma of baking bread filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of herbs and the soft hum of voices coming from the kitchen. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until now—the cozy simplicity, the unspoken love woven into every detail of the home. Before he could fully take in the scene, his mother spotted him.
“Cullen!” Marion’s voice was full of joy as she hurried over, pulling him into a tight embrace. “You’re finally here! Mia told us you might make it, but I wasn’t about to believe it until I saw you with my own eyes. It’s so good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, Mother,” Cullen said, his tone softening as he returned the hug. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”
Ariana lingered in the doorway, her pack still slung over her shoulder, unsure if she should step in or wait for an invitation. She watched the scene unfold, a smile tugging at her lips. There was something achingly pure about the way Marion held Cullen, about the way the family rose from their seats to greet him. It was so different from what she had known growing up, where even familial affection had to be carefully measured, never displayed in front of guests. This was open, unreserved, and unapologetic.
Mia was the next to greet Cullen, her arms wrapping around him in a fierce hug. “Took you long enough,” she teased, pulling back to look at him with a mock scowl. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten your way home.”
Rosalie and Branson followed, their greetings full of laughter and warmth, their voices chiming in as they joked about how Cullen still owed them a game of cards. Ariana watched it all, her heart twisting slightly as she realized how different family could be.
It wasn’t long before Mia’s sharp gaze flicked toward the doorway, landing on Ariana. Her eyebrows arched slightly, her expression shifting to one of curiosity and intrigue. “Well, well,” Mia said, folding her arms. “And who might this be?” Her tone carried a playful lilt, but her eyes were already assessing the unexpected guest.
Cullen glanced over his shoulder, suddenly remembering Ariana’s presence. He gave her a small, apologetic smile before gesturing for her to step inside. “Everyone,” he said, his tone steady despite the faint blush creeping up his neck, “this is Ariana. She’s… a friend I met while traveling.”
Mia tilted her head, her smirk deepening as she looked between Cullen and Ariana. “A ‘friend,’ you say? You mean she’s not one of your Templar comrades?”
Cullen sighed. “No, Mia. Not everyone I know is a Templar.”
Ariana took a small step forward, offering a polite smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she said. “Cullen has told me so much about his family.”
“He has, has he?” Mia replied, her tone full of mischief. “Well, now I have to know what he’s been saying.”
“Mia,” Cullen interjected, his voice carrying a faint edge of warning, though his expression remained patient. “Ariana’s been traveling for a while, and I offered to help her reach her destination. That’s all.”
Marion, ever the peacemaker, stepped in with a warm smile, pulling Ariana into a hug before she could protest. “Don’t mind Mia,” she said kindly. “I’m Marion, and that’s my husband, Stanton. You’re most welcome here, dear.”
Ariana blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the embrace. It wasn’t often that anyone outside of Isabel and her father, and Varric if he was being sentimental, offered her such unrestrained warmth. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice sincere.
“Here, let me take that for you,” Stanton offered, gesturing to her pack. “You must be tired after traveling.”
Before Ariana could respond, Mia interjected with a sly grin. “So, Ariana, where are you headed next?”
Ariana hesitated, glancing at Cullen before answering. “Honestly… I’m not sure yet,” she admitted. “I came to Ferelden looking for a fresh start, and Cullen has been kind enough to help me find my way.”
Mia tilted her head, her curiosity unabated. “A fresh start, huh?” she mused, her tone laced with meaning. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”
“Mia,” Cullen said firmly, his voice cutting through the playful interrogation. He gave her a pointed look, though his tone remained light. “Let her breathe. She’s been on the road for weeks.”
Marion clapped her hands together, redirecting the conversation. “Enough questions for now,” she said with a warm smile. “Come, sit. Dinner’s ready, and it won’t do to let good food go cold.”
They all moved to the table, the atmosphere shifting to one of lively conversation and laughter. As the meal progressed, Ariana found herself relaxing, her initial nerves melting away under the warmth of the family’s welcome. Marion made a point to include her in every topic, subtly drawing her out without prying. Stanton, meanwhile, regaled them with stories of Cullen’s childhood, much to his embarrassment.
By the time the plates were cleared, Ariana felt something she hadn’t expected—belonging. This family, with their easy affection and genuine kindness, had welcomed her as one of their own, even if only for a short while. And as she caught Cullen’s gaze across the table, the soft smile he gave her made her heart swell with a quiet hope she couldn’t quite name.
~~~
After Cullen’s family insisted she take his room, Ariana had tried to argue, but no one—not even Cullen—would hear it. Marion’s firm but gentle insistence left no room for debate. “A guest should never sleep on the floor,” she’d said with a warm smile, ushering Ariana toward Cullen’s room while Cullen, slightly embarrassed, busied himself with helping Stanton clear the dishes.
Over the next few days in Honnleath, a gentle rhythm developed. Cullen’s leave had been perfectly timed, as his father had been needing an extra set of hands to repair the fence that bordered their garden. Each morning, after breakfast, Cullen joined his father outside, the two of them working in the cool, quiet hours while the sun began its steady climb. Ariana often sat nearby with Marion and Rosalie, helping to mend clothing or prepare vegetables for the day’s meals. Despite the simplicity of these tasks, there was something grounding about the routine, a sense of stability that Ariana hadn’t realized she’d missed.
After midday, when the work was done and the family had settled for a brief rest, Cullen and Ariana would set off on walks. He showed her every nook and cranny of the village, from the shaded groves where he’d played as a boy to the hidden trails that wound their way through the fields and hills. The scenery awed her; the land seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction, a patchwork of green and gold under the summer sun. To the west, the Frostback Mountains loomed, their jagged peaks a stark contrast to the gentle slopes of the Hinterlands to the east.
One evening, as they sat on a weathered stone wall overlooking the village, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink, Ariana gazed at the distant mountains with a look of quiet wonder. “Growing up here seems… like it would be magical,” she said softly, her voice carrying a wistfulness that made Cullen’s chest tighten.
He chuckled, though her words gave him pause. “I suppose it might have been,” he admitted, glancing at her. “To me, it was just… home. Normal. I never really thought of it as anything special.”
She smiled, her gaze still fixed on the horizon. “It’s special,” she said, almost to herself. “I can see that now.”
Cullen studied her as she spoke, the fading light casting a soft glow over her face. In Honnleath, she was different—more at ease, more herself. The tension he’d seen in her before, the constant vigilance, had melted away. Here, she was simply Ariana, free to laugh, to marvel at the world around her, to exist without fear. Watching her now, he thought of the stories she’d shared about her father and their time together, the joy she’d found in simpler moments. This was who she was meant to be.
For a fleeting moment, the thought struck him again: What if she stayed? Honnleath was quiet, safe, far removed from the chaos of her past. His family had already taken to her—Marion doted on her like another daughter, and Rosalie had even asked Ariana to teach her how to braid her hair the way Ariana wore hers. If Ariana stayed, she could find peace here, a chance to build a life free from the weight of expectation.
But the thought came with its own complications. He couldn’t ask her to stay—not like this. Their friendship was still so new, so fragile. Suggesting she remain might feel like an obligation, or worse, a claim. And what would his family think? Or hers? He sighed, forcing himself to let the thought drift away for now.
“Cullen?” Her voice broke through his reverie, drawing his attention back to her. She was watching him curiously, her brow furrowed. “I thought I lost you there for a moment.”
He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he said, his gaze flicking to the mountains. “I was just trying to see them the way you do—as if for the first time.” He looked back at her, his smile softening. “Maybe you’re right; perhaps it was magical. I guess it’s easy to take something for granted when you’ve seen it every day of your life.”
Ariana’s smile widened, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Well, I think it’s magical,” she said, her tone teasing. “Even if you don’t.”
He chuckled, standing and offering her a hand. “Come on,” he said. “We should head back before dinner. Mother won’t be happy if we let the food get cold.”
She laughed, taking his hand as he helped her down from the wall. Her fingers lingered in his for a moment longer than she intended, and as they began walking back toward the village, she couldn’t help but wonder if there might be a way to stay here, in this quiet, beautiful place. To stay with him.
By the time they reached the house, the familiar hum of conversation greeted them, the warm glow of candlelight spilling from the windows. Marion was already bustling around the kitchen, her laughter mingling with Stanton’s deep voice and the cheerful chatter of Rosalie and Branson. As Cullen opened the door and ushered Ariana inside, he felt a strange, quiet contentment settle over him. For now, everything felt right. And as they joined his family at the table, their smiles and laughter filling the room, he allowed himself to believe, if only for a moment, that it might stay that way.
~~~
The next morning, after breakfast, Ariana stepped outside to sit on a bench in the yard. The early sunlight bathed the fields in a golden glow, and a soft breeze carried the scents of wildflowers and freshly turned earth. From where she sat, she could see Cullen working alongside his father, the two of them repairing a section of the fence. She let her thoughts drift, her gaze softening as she observed their easy camaraderie, the quiet understanding between father and son.
She marveled at how natural it seemed—the bond Cullen had with his family. This is what it’s supposed to feel like, she thought wistfully, her chest tightening with a mixture of longing and sadness. Memories of her own father surfaced unbidden, his kind smile, his strong presence, the warmth he’d brought to even the coldest of Ostwick winters. Her heart ached for him, for the home she’d left behind.
She tried to push the thoughts away, but they clung stubbornly, her eyes beginning to sting. She blinked rapidly, willing the tears to stay hidden, but they kept coming, spilling over despite her efforts. She was so absorbed in her emotions that she didn’t notice Marion approach until the older woman gently settled onto the bench beside her.
“Are you alright, child?” Marion asked softly, her voice steady and comforting, like the sound of rain on a quiet evening.
Ariana blinked, startled, and hastily wiped at her cheeks. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, forcing a practiced smile. “Just—lost in thought.” But her voice wavered, betraying her.
Marion gave her a knowing look, one that immediately unraveled Ariana’s attempt at composure. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” Marion said gently. “I’ve lived long enough to know when someone is carrying more than they’re ready to share.” She paused, her gaze kind but perceptive. “Cullen didn’t tell us much about you, and that’s alright. But I can see you’re not a common traveler.” Her eyes drifted over Ariana’s hands, smooth and uncalloused, and the way she held herself with unconscious grace. “You haven’t been on the road for long, have you?”
Ariana felt her cheeks flush. Marion’s observation was accurate, but there was no accusation in her tone, only curiosity and care. Ariana hesitated, unsure how much to reveal, but something about Marion’s presence felt safe, reassuring. “No,” she admitted quietly. “Not long at all.”
Marion didn’t press further, waiting patiently until Ariana felt ready to continue. After a moment, Ariana let out a shaky breath. “I miss my father,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He was… everything. My guide, my anchor. He always seemed to know what to do, no matter how difficult things became.” Her lips trembled as she spoke, but she pressed on, finding comfort in the act of sharing. “We’d spend hours together—training, reading, talking about the stars. He made me feel like anything was possible.”
Marion listened intently, her expression softening as she placed a gentle hand over Ariana’s. “He sounds like a remarkable man,” she said warmly.
“He is,” Ariana replied, her voice tinged with sorrow. “But the last time I saw him… he told me I had to leave. That it wasn’t safe for me to stay.” Her gaze dropped to her lap, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. “I didn’t want to go. But he insisted.” She took a deep, unsteady breath. “He looked so… tired that night. Like he was carrying the weight of the world. I’ve never seen him like that before.”
Marion squeezed her hand gently, her heart aching for the young woman beside her. “It’s clear he loves you dearly,” she said softly. “Sometimes, the hardest thing we can do for those we love is let them go.”
Ariana nodded, her throat tight with emotion. “I know,” she murmured. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”
Marion leaned closer, wrapping an arm around Ariana’s shoulders. “You’re carrying a lot,” she said gently. “But you’re stronger than you know. And whatever brought you here, know that you’re safe now.”
Ariana’s eyes welled again, but this time, the tears were accompanied by a faint smile. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice steadying.
Her gaze drifted back to Cullen, who was working with focused determination, his sleeves rolled up and his brow furrowed in concentration. As if sensing her attention, he looked up, meeting her eyes across the yard. A small, shared smile passed between them, and for a moment, the weight on her chest seemed a little lighter.
Marion followed her gaze, her own smile growing as she observed the unspoken connection between them. “He’s always been a good one, my Cullen,” she said, her voice tinged with pride. “Strong, loyal, but always with the softest heart.”
Ariana’s cheeks warmed, and she looked away, her smile lingering. “He is,” she said quietly, the words carrying more meaning than she intended.
Marion chuckled softly, patting her hand. “Whatever it is you’re looking for, Ariana, I hope you find it. And I hope you know that you’re welcome here as long as you need.”
Ariana’s heart swelled with gratitude as she turned to Marion, her voice filled with quiet sincerity. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”
Marion smiled, her eyes twinkling with warmth. “You already have, my dear.”
Marion felt her heart swell with happiness, seeing not only the light in Ariana’s eyes as she watched Cullen but also the way her son’s gaze softened in return. She could feel that whatever the two were to each other now, they were meant to be—destined to find their way to each other, whether they realized it yet or not.
~~~
As the day went on, their routine flowed much as it had the past few days. That evening at dinner, Cullen and Ariana said their goodbyes to his family. They lingered at the table longer than usual, filling the room with warmth and laughter as they exchanged stories and memories. Ariana found herself swept up in the familial energy, marveling at the easy rhythm of their conversations and the genuine affection they shared.
When the meal ended, Marion surprised Ariana with a small bundle of supplies—a loaf of fresh bread, some dried fruits, and a neatly folded scarf. “Something to remember us by,” she said with a kind smile, her eyes twinkling with a knowing warmth. Ariana couldn’t find the words to thank her and settled for an embrace, her heart swelling with gratitude.
Cullen watched the exchange with a quiet smile, his chest tightening. He felt a flicker of something he couldn’t name—pride, perhaps, or a sense of belonging. Whatever it was, he knew this was a moment he would carry with him for a long time.
At sunrise, they were both ready to leave. Cullen took one last look around his childhood home, letting the familiarity wash over him. It was a rare kind of peace, one he hadn’t felt in years. As he turned to Ariana, he saw her lingering near the gate, the morning light casting a golden glow over her figure. She glanced back at him with a smile, and together, they began their journey back to Redcliffe.
The road stretched out before them, and the morning air was cool and crisp. Their conversation meandered easily, weaving between shared memories of the past few days and playful banter. Cullen recounted his time repairing the fence with his father, exaggerating his struggles to draw a laugh from Ariana.
“I swear, I felt more sore after that than I ever have from training,” he admitted with a chuckle.
Ariana stifled a laugh, her lips twitching as she teased, “Maybe you are not training hard enough. I thought Templars were supposed to be strong.”
Feigning indignation, Cullen raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that what you think? Perhaps you should train with me, Lady Trevelyan. I’d like to see you keep up.”
She smirked, her tone playful. “Keep up? You would be the one struggling, Templar. Trust me.”
Their exchange continued, laughter mingling with the rustling of leaves around them. When Cullen slipped and reminded her, “Well, I managed to catch you, after all,” he immediately winced, realizing the potential sting of his words.
But Ariana’s smile never faltered. She shrugged, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I got sloppy. It won’t happen again, I promise,” she quipped, her smirk widening. “I’ve been training my skills longer than you’ve been in the Templar Order.”
Cullen was intrigued, his curiosity piqued by her confidence. He remembered the way she had moved that day—quick, deliberate, and precise. “Is that a fact?” he mused aloud, stopping to face her. Bowing slightly, he extended his hand. “Would you care to put your skill to the test, Lady Trevelyan?”
She laughed, catching his meaning. “Why, Ser Cullen, I fear I might have an unfair advantage over you. I would not want to claim victory on such grounds.”
“What ‘unfair’ advantage could you possibly have, my lady?” he asked, joining her at her side again as they resumed walking.
“Firstly, my daggers are in my pack, and you are not wearing armor,” she replied, matter-of-factly, giving him a playful smile. “And I was trained to dodge, not to wear armor.”
Cullen’s hearty laugh filled the quiet morning air, and they carried on, bantering back and forth until the trees thinned, and they arrived at the same small clearing they had camped at before. It felt only natural to stop there for the night. Cullen set to work building a fire while Ariana prepared a small meal from the supplies she had packed.
As the day wore on, they arrived at the same clearing they had camped in before. It felt natural to stop there for the night. Cullen set to work building a fire, the familiar task grounding him, while Ariana unpacked a simple meal from their supplies. They ate in companionable silence, the crackling of the fire a soothing backdrop to their shared stillness.
Cullen stole a glance at her as she gazed into the flames, her face softened by the flickering light. There was a quiet strength in her—a resilience that fascinated him. She carried herself with the grace of nobility, but her spirit was untamed, unyielding. He wondered about the stories she hadn’t shared, the layers of her that still remained a mystery.
Ariana, for her part, felt the weight of the road settling over her again. The last few days had been a reprieve, but now, as they journeyed back toward the uncertainty of her future, she felt the familiar restlessness creeping in. And yet, here, by this fire, with Cullen’s steady presence beside her, she felt an unexpected sense of peace. It wasn’t something she could explain, but it was there—a warmth that went beyond the fire, a quiet certainty that she wasn’t alone.
As the fire burned low, Cullen leaned back as he gazed up at the stars. “You know,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I think you’re the first person I’ve met who really makes me see the world differently. I’ve lived in this part of Ferelden my whole life, and yet walking these roads with you, it’s like I’m seeing it all for the first time.”
Ariana turned to him, her eyes searching his face. She saw the sincerity in his expression, the unspoken emotions that lingered in his words. Her heart swelled, and for the first time, she allowed herself to imagine—just for a moment—what it might mean to stay by his side.
“Cullen,” she began, her voice soft, “you have no idea how much your kindness has meant to me. These past few days… Thank you.”
Their eyes met, and in that moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the quiet connection that had grown between them. Neither of them spoke again, but as the night stretched on, the silence was filled with the unspoken understanding that this—whatever it was—was only the beginning.