27 Harvestmere 9:33
The next day, Ariana made her usual rounds with Varric, the afternoon dragging as her thoughts remained firmly tethered to the evening ahead. The streets of Hightown bustled around them, but the energy of the city barely registered in her mind. Varric, ever the social butterfly, greeted familiar faces with an easy charm, while Ariana followed in his wake, her own demeanor more reserved.
“So,” Varric began, his tone casual yet unmistakably teasing, “care to explain what possessed you to get involved with a Templar?”
Ariana sighed, rolling her eyes at his persistence. “We’re just friends, Varric. Nothing more.”
“Right. Friends.” Varric’s voice dripped with skepticism as he gave her a sidelong glance. “Because we all have those ‘just friends’ who we chase halfway across Thedas for years.”
She paused mid-step, fixing him with a sharp look. “I mean it, Varric. He was there for me when I needed someone. That’s all it is.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” He arched an eyebrow, his expression the picture of disbelief. “Let me get this straight: he’s just a friend, but you’ve spent years scouring every lead, chasing after rumors, and following his trail like he’s the Maker’s chosen? Forgive me for not buying it, pup.”
Ariana’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. “I would have done the same for you, Varric. If you’d gone missing, I’d have done everything I could to find you.”
Varric tilted his head, his smirk softening slightly. “Would you, now?”
“Of course I would,” she replied firmly. “If there was even the faintest chance you were out there, I wouldn’t have stopped until I found you.”
He stopped walking, turning to face her fully, his expression unusually thoughtful. “Fair point, pup. But let’s be real—if I’d gone missing, you’d have found me in a week. Maker knows enough people owe me favors. You, though? You vanished without a trace. And don’t think I didn’t try.”
Her steps faltered as she turned to look at him, genuine surprise flashing in her eyes. “You tried?”
“Don’t make me say it twice,” Varric replied, his smirk returning, though it was tinged with something softer. “You’re my pup. That’s what you do for family.”
Ariana smiled faintly, but her gaze dropped to the cobblestones, her voice quieter. “That’s what Cullen became for me, Varric. My family. After I left Kirkwall, I had no one else. He was the one person who stayed, who didn’t let me feel like I was alone.”
Varric’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. “That’s a heavy kind of friendship, pup. You sure you’re not underselling what that means?”
She shook her head, but the distant look in her eyes remained. “I don’t know, Varric. I’ve asked myself that question so many times. I mean, there was a moment—” She paused, catching herself, the memory from years ago flashing vividly in her mind. Sitting beside him on a quiet night, wondering if what they had was more than friendship but never finding the words to ask. “I guess… Whatever this has always been between us… I wouldn’t know where to begin. We’re… just us when we’re together.”
Varric studied her for a long moment, his gaze softer than usual. “Ariana, it sounds to me like you already know—you’re just afraid to admit it.”
Ariana met his gaze, her lips twitching into a small, bittersweet smile. “Maybe. But I just found him again. Whatever we were before, whatever it would have become was interrupted by a Blight. For now, I’m just happy to have him back. I wouldn’t risk that friendship for anything.
He shrugged, his smirk returning in full force as he gestured for them to keep walking. “Fair enough. But just so we’re clear, I still don’t believe you for a second.”
Ariana couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking her head. “Of course you don’t. You wouldn’t be Varric Tethras if you did.”
As they continued down the street, she felt a familiar swirl of emotions bubbling under the surface—hope, fear, and something she still wasn’t sure how to name. Whatever this was between her and Cullen, it had survived years of distance, loss, and doubt. And now, she dared to believe it might finally find its way forward.
~~~
When evening came, Ariana headed up to the Chantry terrace. This time, she sat on the ledge, her legs swinging over the edge in plain view so Cullen would see her. She wanted to make it clear she hadn’t simply happened upon him last night—she’d been there for days, right in front of him, and he’d never noticed.
As Cullen approached the steps, his mind still tangled in thoughts from the night before, his gaze lifted—and there she was, perched on the ledge above. She smirked down at him, the setting sun catching the warmth in her expression. He stopped mid-step, eyebrows raised in surprise, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Wait,” he called up to her, amusement lacing his tone, “are you telling me you were watching me from there all this time?”
Ariana nodded, her verdant hazel eyes gleaming with mischief. “You never looked up,” she teased, a hint of pride in her voice. “And even if you had, I had a few hiding spots.”
Cullen chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course, you did,” he said, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “And let me guess—you waited until I went inside before leaving?”
At that, her cheeks flushed faintly. She glanced away, trying and failing to mask her flustered reaction. “Maybe,” she admitted, her voice soft but playful.
A knowing look crossed Cullen’s face. “You followed me into the Chantry, didn’t you?” he asked, a note of amusement creeping in.
She tilted her head, offering a coy smile. “The balcony.”
He squinted slightly, piecing it together. “The balcony… but how did you even manage to get up there without me noticing?”
Her smile widened, the kind that hinted at secrets she wouldn’t be sharing. “I have my methods.”
“Clearly,” Cullen replied, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. He shook his head in mock disapproval, though his tone carried no real reprimand. “Next time, maybe I should just look up.”
“Good idea,” she replied lightly, her grin widening. “You never know what you might find.”
With a graceful hop, Ariana leapt down from the ledge, landing lightly on the stone stairs below. Cullen’s hand shot forward instinctively, his brow furrowing in alarm. “You could have broken an ankle,” he said, his voice tinged with concern.
She waved him off with a teasing smile. “Please, Cullen. If that could break my ankle, I wouldn’t have made it through the Blight,” she quipped, feigning mock offense. A quiet chuckle escaped her as she watched his frown soften into something gentler.
“Still,” he said, letting out a short breath, “there’s no need to tempt fate.”
“Fate and I have an understanding,” she replied, her tone light but her smile genuine.
After a moment’s pause, she leaned in slightly, her voice softening with hope. “Dinner tonight?” she asked, her heart fluttering faintly at the question.
Cullen’s expression brightened, his smile widening as he nodded. “Dinner sounds… perfect,” he said warmly. “Give me an hour?”
She grinned, a flicker of relief crossing her face. “An hour,” she agreed, stepping back with an energy in her movements that she hadn’t felt in years.
~~~
As she walked away, Cullen remained at the steps for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on her retreating form. Despite the years, the distance, and the complications of their lives, he couldn’t help but feel that something unspoken was beginning to take shape between them.
Stepping into the Chantry, he felt an unfamiliar lightness settle over him, like a heavy weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. For years, his prayers had been heavy, filled with guilt and relentless self-recrimination. He had begged for forgiveness—for the mages he couldn’t save, for the trust he’d lost, and most of all, for the woman he believed had died during the Blight. Ariana. Her name had haunted his prayers, even when he didn’t dare to speak it aloud. But now, she was alive.
The memory of her smile, the warmth of her presence—it filled him now with something he hadn’t felt in years: peace. He offered a quiet, heartfelt prayer of thanks to the Maker and Andraste for bringing her back to him. His words no longer a desperate plea but a genuine expression of gratitude.
As Cullen rose, a rare smile touched his lips, lingering as he prepared to leave. His mind was already elsewhere, his thoughts drawn to her. Perhaps he’d see her again tonight. Perhaps even now.
“Knight-Captain.” The soft but commanding voice of Grand Cleric Elthina pulled him from his reverie. She approached him, her kind but perceptive gaze taking in the ease in his posture, the spark in his eyes. “You seem… different today. Is everything alright?”
Cullen turned to her, bowing his head respectfully. “Yes, Grand Cleric. Everything is perfectly fine.” His voice carried an unmistakable warmth, and his smile deepened. “Better than fine, in truth.”
Elthina raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “It’s not often I see you so unburdened. You’ve carried so much on your shoulders for so long.” She hesitated for a moment, studying him. “If I may, has something happened? A prayer answered, perhaps?”
Cullen hesitated, unsure how much to share. “You could say that,” he admitted, his tone thoughtful. “Something… unexpected, but deeply welcome.”
Elthina’s expression softened. “You’ve rarely spoken of your burdens, but I know they’ve weighed heavily on you. And I know you’ve lost much—someone dear to you during the Blight. I hope this change brings you the peace you’ve long sought.”
Cullen’s smile turned faintly wistful. “It does,” he said softly, the image of Ariana’s face flashing in his mind. “More than I can put into words.”
Elthina studied him for a moment longer, her curiosity tempered by a quiet satisfaction at the evident change in him. “The Maker’s light finds us all, even when we think it lost,” she said gently. “Hold on to this, Knight-Captain. Whatever has brought you this peace—treasure it.”
“I will,” Cullen replied firmly. “Thank you, Grand Cleric.”
As he turned to leave, Elthina watched him with quiet wonder. The transformation in him was profound, and she couldn’t help but feel a small sense of hope herself. Whatever—or whoever—had sparked this change, it was something powerful.
Stepping out into Hightown, Cullen’s strides were brisk and purposeful, his steps lighter than they’d been in years. He had a good idea where he’d find her. Striding quickly, he made his way in the direction of the Café d’Or. His thoughts were consumed by her—her smile, her wit, the way she made him feel whole in a way he hadn’t thought possible again. Maker, he was going to see her again, and the thought filled him with an unfamiliar but deeply welcome sense of anticipation.
~~~
Ariana wasn’t in any hurry as she strolled through Hightown, her thoughts adrift in a daydream. The warmth of last night lingered in her mind, softening the edges of her world. For the first time in what felt like forever, her heart felt lighter. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the simple act of being near him again, of hearing his voice and seeing his smile, made her feel as though she had found something she hadn’t realized she’d lost.
Her mind wandered back to the night before, to the brief but precious moments when the Cullen she remembered had surfaced. That dark and unyielding look she had seen in his eyes before—so stark and foreign—wasn’t all that was left of him. He had demons, much like she did, but they hadn’t claimed him entirely. She could still bring him back to her. She wasn’t too late.
The city bustled around her, but she barely noticed it. Hightown’s gleaming facades and carefully maintained calm seemed worlds away from the turmoil in her heart. Still, she counted down the minutes until she would see him again. Just one more hour, she told herself, though the minutes dragged endlessly.
The sound of hurried footsteps behind her pulled her from her musings, startling her slightly. It was rare to hear anyone rushing in Hightown, where even the most pressing matters seemed to move at a stately pace. A smile tugged at her lips before she even turned around. She already knew it was him.
She spun on her heel, her heart skipping a beat as her suspicions proved true—Cullen, his expression a mix of purpose and excitement, was making his way toward her.
“I do not think it has been an hour yet,” she teased, her knowing smile tugging at him. “I am not entirely convinced it has even been more than a few minutes.”
His chuckle was soft, but it lit his face in a way that made her chest tighten. For a fleeting moment, he looked as though the weight of the world had slipped from his shoulders. “How would you feel about skipping dinner?” he asked, his tone carrying that familiar blend of seriousness and humor, though there was something deeper there—something she couldn’t quite name.
Ariana tilted her head, feigning suspicion. “Well, I would like to eat at some point. But I suppose I could settle for a hearth cake… why?”
“I have an idea,” he replied, a quiet hopefulness threading through his voice.
Her amusement deepened as she studied him. “Alright, then. What do you have in mind?”
Cullen’s grin widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that made her heart ache with a mix of joy and longing. There was a spark of mischief in his gaze—something she had missed deeply. “Can you be prepared for anything?” he asked, his words a deliberate echo of her birthday years ago.
The memory warmed her instantly, vivid and comforting. She met his gaze, excitement bubbling to the surface. “I can be,” she replied, her smile soft but eager.
He extended a hand toward her, threading his fingers through hers with a tenderness that sent warmth coursing through her. “Then follow me,” he said, his voice low but full of quiet promise.
As they began walking, Cullen made an unexpected stop at a merchant’s stall along the way, catching Ariana slightly off guard. She watched with quiet curiosity as he selected a small assortment of simple foods—bread, cheese, and a few dried fruits. He handed over a few coins and tucked the items into a satchel, glancing at her with a faint smirk.
“Prepared for anything also means we might need a snack,” he said, his tone light but teasing.
Ariana arched a brow, her smile tugging wider. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you? Care to tell me where we’re going?”
“You’ll see,” he replied, his expression unreadable but his tone teasingly evasive.
Her curiosity only grew, but she didn’t press him further. Instead, she let herself focus on the moment—the warmth of his hand in hers, the easy rhythm of their steps, the quiet trust that seemed to bridge the years between them.
As they left the city behind, the anticipation in her chest swelled. Whatever he had planned, she trusted him completely. The world around them seemed to blur, the weight of everything else falling away. For now, there was only this—the thrill of rediscovery lighting the way ahead.
~~~
Cullen led them out of the Hightown gates, his hand steady in hers as they ventured down the quiet path. The streets faded behind them, replaced by the open expanse of the coast. The faint sound of the sea drifted up to meet them, mingling with the distant cries of gulls. She still had no idea where they were going, though the mystery clearly thrilled her. He could see it in the way her fingers tightened slightly around his, her lips curving into a faint, curious smile.
Glancing at her side, he noticed the faint glint of the small knives she carried, hidden but present. It was such a part of her now, that quiet preparedness, that readiness for anything. Yet she seemed at ease, her strides confident, trusting him completely. His chest swelled at the thought, the weight of her trust settling over him like something sacred.
The path twisted and narrowed, hugging the cliffs until the silhouette of ancient ruins emerged against the fading light. Cullen paused for a moment, his breath catching as the sight came into view. These ruins, long forgotten by most, had been his secret. The thought of showing her had lingered in his mind for years—a faint dream he’d dismissed countless times when he believed she was gone. Now, standing beside her, he realized how wrong he’d been to think he’d never get to share this with her.
He cast a glance at her and saw her steps slow as the ruins came into view. Her eyes widened, the sight pulling her back to a different time. He could almost see the memory flicker across her face, a reflection of the days they had spent at the elven ruins by Lake Calenhad. Her gaze softened, her lips parting as if to speak, but instead, she reached out and brushed her fingers lightly against his arm. Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, her way of thanking him—just as she had all those years ago.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice carrying a quiet warmth that made his chest tighten.
Before he could reply, her curiosity carried her forward, her steps quickening toward the ancient stone structures. She moved like someone who belonged here, her fingers tracing the weathered carvings as though reading the echoes of the past.
“You know,” she began, brushing her hand over a faint inscription, “I think these might be Tevinter ruins… though I’ll admit I’m a bit lacking in Tevinter history. There was a book I read once with markings like these…” Her voice trailed off as she leaned closer to inspect the details, her curiosity lighting her features in a way that left Cullen captivated.
He couldn’t look away. The way she lost herself in discovery, the way the faint evening light caught her hazel-green eyes, setting them ablaze with hues of emerald and honey—it was as though the years hadn’t dulled her at all. If anything, she seemed even more radiant now, tempered by time but not diminished.
This is what I almost gave up on, he thought, his chest tightening. What I nearly let go of.
She turned then, her gaze shifting to the horizon as though something far beyond it had called her attention. Cullen stepped forward, his movements unhurried but instinctive. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her gently against him. She leaned into him without hesitation, her head resting lightly against his shoulder as though she’d always belonged there. He felt her sigh, a quiet, contented sound that made his heart ache with both joy and the weight of all they had lost.
“Cullen…” she whispered, her voice quiet, hesitant.
He tilted his head slightly, his breath warm against her temple. “Yes?”
Her fingers traced absent patterns along his forearm, the gesture thoughtful, unintentional. “Thank you… for remembering. For… us.”
The words struck something deep in him, raw and unguarded. He tightened his hold on her, his embrace saying what words couldn’t: that he was here, that she was here, that somehow, after everything, they had found their way back to this moment.
“How could I ever forget?” he replied softly, resting his cheek against her hair. The faint scent of cinnamon reached him, grounding him in the reality of her presence. It wasn’t a dream, and it wasn’t a memory. She was here.
For a long while, they stood there, the ruins and the sea bearing silent witness to what they had lost—and what they had found again. When the light began to fade, Cullen guided her to a spot among the ruins where the stone rose like natural seats. From his satchel, he retrieved the bread, cheese, and fruit he had brought, setting it between them.
As they ate, the stars began to emerge, one by one, until the sky was alive with their glow. Ariana tilted her head back, her gaze fixed on the heavens. Cullen followed her gaze, his thoughts quiet but full.
“Did you ever look up?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
He considered her words, then reached out to take her hand, his grip firm and steady. “Countless nights,” he said after a moment, his voice low. “Hoping that you could forgive me.”
Her breath caught, and for a moment, she said nothing, her thumb brushing lightly over his hand. “Forgive you?” she asked, her voice tinged with both surprise and a gentleness that made his chest ache. “Cullen, you’ve never needed forgiveness—not from me.”
He met her gaze, the sincerity in her eyes undoing him. He wanted to speak, to explain the weight he’d carried, but the words tangled in his throat.
Ariana shifted closer, her free hand resting lightly on his arm, grounding him. “You never let me go, did you?” she asked, a faint smile curving her lips, though her voice held an edge of sorrow.
“No,” he admitted, his voice rough but unflinching. “And I never will.”
She studied him for a long moment, her expression softening. Then, to his surprise, she smiled—a quiet, bittersweet smile that carried years of understanding. “Good,” she said simply, her tone steady. “Because I never let you go either.”
Her words soothed his guilt and regret. In that moment, as the stars watched over them, Cullen felt the weight of his burdens shift. The path ahead was still uncertain, but with her by his side, he found the courage to believe in something he thought he’d lost long ago: hope.