8 Wintermarch 9:34
After a quick conversation with the Rangers, instructing them to meet her in the morning, Ariana changed into more inconspicuous travel clothes. It was safer this way, especially after the close call at the docks. She stepped out of the Hanged Man with a purpose, intent on finding Cullen. She wondered if he would have stuck to his usual patrol schedule or if he might still be out with the Templars she’d seen earlier.
She decided to head toward the docks first, planning to circle back to Hightown if she didn’t find him. Luck was on her side—she spotted Cullen not far from the Hanged Man, engaged in conversation with a small group of Templars.
“Hello, stranger,” she called out, her voice teasing, the playful greeting echoing their past at Lake Calenhad before their journey to Honnleath.
Cullen’s head snapped up, his expression shifting from confusion to surprise, and then softening into pure joy. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between them, his strides purposeful and unrelenting. Ariana stepped forward to meet him, throwing herself into his arms. He caught her with practiced ease, his embrace both firm and gentle, holding her as though nothing else in the world existed.
For Cullen, nothing else did. Everything around them blurred into the background, a rare moment of unguarded emotion breaking through his usual composure. His charges, however, were not as oblivious. The Templars stood frozen, wide-eyed, murmuring among themselves. The stoic, steadfast Knight-Captain—so often perceived as unshakable—was now undeniably human, undeniably open, and undeniably in love.
Unconcerned by their whispers, Cullen gently set Ariana back on her feet but kept his arms around her. His hand moved to her face as he leaned down, kissing her with the kind of passion that held every unspoken word, every lingering fear, and every promise he’d been carrying since she left. The kiss was unyielding, grounding them both in the certainty of this moment. When they finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his smile warm and completely unguarded. “I missed you,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of his sincerity. “More than I can put into words.”
Ariana felt her heart swell, the weight of her travels and lingering worries momentarily dissolving. She smiled back, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “I can tell,” she teased gently, though her voice carried the depth of her own emotions. “I missed you too.”
Her eyes flicked over his shoulder to the group of Templars watching the exchange with thinly veiled curiosity. With a playful glint, she added, “Am I interrupting something?”
Reality crept back in as Cullen turned, his attention snapping momentarily to his men. Even as he addressed them, his arm remained wrapped protectively around Ariana. “Check the Hanged Man,” he instructed, his tone steady and authoritative despite the warmth lingering in his voice. “It’s a likely place for them to go. Find out what you can and report back to me.”
The Templars nodded, casting lingering glances between them as they saluted, and made their way toward the tavern, their curiosity about their Knight-Captain’s sudden change in demeanor palpable.
As they walked away, Ariana tilted her head slightly, her tone feigning innocence. “Is something the matter?”
“Nothing you need to be concerned about,” Cullen replied, his voice soft and reassuring. He smiled down at her, his expression gentle. “Come, let me walk you home.”
Her heart fluttered at his disarming smile as they fell into step together. Their strides matched effortlessly, as though no time had passed since they were last side by side. Cullen reached out, brushing her hand with his, a quiet but deliberate gesture.
As they made their way toward Hightown, their conversation shifted naturally to her travels. Ariana steered away from anything too revealing, choosing safer topics—her time in Val Royeaux, a few choice shops she’d visited, and an unexpected encounter with her brother Michael on the road.
Cullen listened attentively, his eyes never leaving hers for long. “I wish I could’ve been there with you,” he admitted at one point, his tone wistful. “But more than that… I’m just glad you’re back.”
Ariana glanced up at him, her smile brightening. “Me too,” she replied softly, her words simple but weighted with meaning.
~~~
As they strolled toward Hightown, their conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless blend of playful banter and quiet warmth. Cullen listened intently as Ariana described her nights aboard the ship, her voice softening as she painted a picture of stargazing on the deck. She spoke of the serenity, the way the sway of the ship lulled her to sleep, and how the stars seemed brighter, closer, when surrounded by endless water. He smiled, not just at her words but at the way she seemed to glow when sharing something that brought her joy.
He had missed this. Her voice, her laughter, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke. These moments had sustained him during her absence, memories he clung to when the world around him felt too heavy.
“You know,” Ariana began, her tone shifting to one of mischievous anticipation, “I have a surprise for you, but you’ll have to wait until your birthday.”
Cullen raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking. “A surprise, huh? Should I be concerned?”
“That depends,” she teased, glancing up at him with a sly smile. “Do you think you have been good this year?”
“Good?” he repeated, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I have been the model of virtue while you were gone. Though,” he added, stepping closer to her, his tone dropping to something warmer, more intimate, “I missed you enough that I wouldn’t mind starting some new rumors right now.”
The teasing glint in her eyes deepened, but before she could respond, he slid a hand to her waist and pulled her closer, his other hand resting lightly at her back. He felt her body tense slightly in surprise before relaxing against him, her hazel-green eyes sparkling with a mix of challenge and amusement.
“Oh,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a low, playful tone, “you mean the Lowtown kind of rumors…”
Cullen’s breath hitched, her words sending a pleasant heat coursing through him. Her hands slid around his neck, her fingers grazing the edges of his hair, and she leaned in, her confidence intoxicating. He swallowed, his usual composure fraying at the edges as he tried to keep up with her teasing. “I might,” he managed, attempting to sound unaffected. “Would you like to add to them?”
She tilted her head, her gaze locked on his, her lips curving into a devilish smile. “Well,” she began, her voice slow and deliberate, “we are not far from the estate… If you’d like to sneak into my room for a ‘vigorous strategy session’…as Isabela will label it”
Her words hung in the air, and Cullen felt the heat rise to his face. He wasn’t sure if it was her suggestion or the sheer audacity of her confidence, but he was utterly undone. Before he could muster a response, she pulled him into a kiss that sent every coherent thought fleeing from his mind. It wasn’t the playful teasing of before—this kiss was deep, insistent, a silent declaration of her longing.
He found himself lost in her, his hands tightening around her waist instinctively as a soft moan escaped her, igniting something in him that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back. For a moment, the world narrowed to just her—her warmth, her touch, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. It was unlike her to be so bold, but he found himself reveling in it, captivated by the confidence that mirrored his own feelings.
When he finally broke the kiss, it was only because he needed air, though he wasn’t ready to let her go. He let his forehead rest gently against hers, his breaths uneven as he tried to steady himself. Her soft laugh, so triumphant, so full of joy, brought him back to the moment.
“Maker’s breath, Ariana,” he muttered, his voice tinged with exasperation but softened by amusement. “You are… in rare form tonight.”
Her triumphant laughter rang out, filling the quiet street. “Oh, look at that,” she teased, folding her arms and leaning back just slightly, her expression smug. “The unshakable Knight-Captain, undone by a simple suggestion. I believe I win this round.”
Cullen shook his head, his lips curving into a rueful smile. “If this is what victory looks like, I’m not sure I stand a chance,” he replied, his tone lighter now, though his heart still raced. He found himself wondering not for the first time how she managed to disarm him so completely—and how, despite his every instinct to remain composed, he didn’t mind in the slightest.
Cullen shook his head, his lips curving into a grin despite his best efforts. “You are insufferable,” he said, though the affection in his tone betrayed any attempt at sternness.
“And yet,” she replied breezily, turning back toward the path to Hightown, “you cannot seem to stay away.”
“Do not remind me,” he said with a chuckle, following her lead. The playfulness between them carried a newfound undercurrent of unspoken affection, both teasing and testing the boundaries of their still young relationship.
As they walked, Cullen found his thoughts straying to her demeanor. The way she carried herself, the light in her eyes—though still vibrant—seemed shadowed by something he could not place. Their banter was as natural as ever, yet there was a heaviness to her, a depth in her gaze that had not been there before. Whatever had happened during her time away, it weighed on her, and the realization filled him with an unsettling sense of guilt.
Something had happened to her. Something he had been unable to shield her from. The thought gnawed at him, and he resolved, quietly, that he would not fail her again.
~~~
As they approached the estate, the quiet stillness greeted them like a gentle pause after the bustle of the city. Ariana felt a sense of familiarity wash over her, though something about the silence seemed heavier than usual. Isabel was likely in the kitchen, preparing the next meal, as she often was when the household was at rest.
The soft sound of their footsteps echoed in the hallway, and soon enough, Isabel appeared, wiping her hands on her apron. Her face lit up the moment she saw Ariana.
“My dear girl!” Isabel exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace her. Her strong arms wrapped Ariana in a warm, maternal hug. “How we’ve missed you.”
Ariana leaned into the hug, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “And I have missed you,” she replied warmly. With a playful glance toward Cullen, she added, “Though I heard Cullen here has been keeping you company in my absence.”
“That he did,” Isabel said, turning her attention to Cullen. Her gaze softened, noting how the tension he had carried for weeks seemed to lift now that Ariana was home. “He has been a good guest. But I think I speak for both Emma and myself when I say we are glad you are back.”
Cullen chuckled softly, his posture relaxing further. “I am just glad she finally made it home.”
“Come, both of you,” Isabel said, motioning toward the kitchen. “I just made tea.”
Ariana hesitated. “Isabel, I desperately need a bath and a change of clothes.”
Isabel smiled, ever the caretaker. “Sit and have some tea first. I’ll have a bath drawn for you in the meantime,” she assured her, motioning to a nearby servant to make the arrangements.
Ariana relented with a grateful smile and followed them into the kitchen. The familiar scent of herbs and freshly baked goods filled the air as they settled at the table. Isabel began asking gentle questions about Ariana’s travels, careful not to press too hard with Cullen present.
“Was the journey taxing?” Isabel asked, her sharp green eyes studying Ariana’s face.
“It was… long,” Ariana replied, offering a half-smile. “But I managed.”
Cullen, however, was less subtle. “Was all your time spent in Val Royeaux?” he asked, his tone neutral but his eyes searching hers. “The journey between Kirkwall and Orlais shouldn’t have taken this long.”
Ariana paused, meeting his gaze. She knew this question was inevitable and had prepared her answer. “I stopped by Ferelden,” she said carefully, setting her teacup down. “To let some friends know I was alright. I had left without word when I came to Kirkwall. It felt right to let them know I was safe.”
Cullen’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Would that be the Silver Rangers?” he asked pointedly, a faint edge of frustration creeping into his voice.
Ariana sighed, her patience waning. “Some of them, yes,” she admitted, her tone firm but calm. “They are friends, and they were worried.” Her answer was deliberately brief, signaling that the topic was closed.
She rose from her seat, intending to leave, but Cullen’s next words froze her in place.
“Does that include the White Wolf?” Cullen pressed.
Ariana turned back to him, feigning surprise. “What?”
“Do you know who he is? Or why he’s here?” Cullen leaned forward, his voice insistent.
“What are you talking about?” Ariana snapped, anger flickering beneath her calm exterior. But guilt gnawed at her as well. She hated lying to him, but she couldn’t let him connect the dots.
“Answer me, Ariana,” Cullen said, rising to meet her gaze, his frustration palpable.
Ariana’s voice was taut as she forced herself to remain calm. “Cullen… I’m going to take a bath.” Her tone was restrained but carried a sharp edge. “Maybe when I come back, you can calm down enough to tell me what this is about.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and left the room, her steps measured but quick.
As the door closed behind her, Cullen sank back into his chair, tension creeping back into his shoulders. Isabel, who had remained quiet until now, gave him a pointed look, crossing her arms.
“What did I say before?” Isabel said, her tone gentle but firm, as though addressing one of her own children. “A conversation, not an argument.”
Cullen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I need answers.”
“And you will get them,” Isabel replied, her voice softening. “But not by pushing her. You care for her, Cullen, and if you want her to trust you, you must show her that.”
He looked up at Isabel, his brow furrowed. “You know I do,” he admitted quietly, the words slipping out unguarded.
Isabel’s expression softened, her knowing look filled with warmth. “Then show her, Cullen,” she said simply. “Show her you can meet her on her terms. Trust me, it will make all the difference.”
She paused, a faint but teasing smile tugging at her lips. “And remember, Cullen, Ariana is, for better or worse, a very strong-willed woman. Maker help you if you think you can win an argument with her. She will wear you down, one way or another.”
Cullen chuckled softly despite himself, shaking his head. “I think I already knew that.”
“Good,” Isabel said with a grin. “Because it’s the truth. But that strong will? It’s also why she has survived everything she has. And why she will always fight for the people she loves. You included.”
Her words settled over him, a mixture of humor and wisdom that made his chest tighten. Cullen nodded slowly, letting the conversation sink in as he resolved to approach things differently. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Ariana was worth it. Every challenge, every moment of doubt—she was worth all of it.
~~~
As Ariana came back downstairs, her entrance was nothing short of captivating. She wore a flowing house robe, its intricate embroidery tracing delicate patterns along the hem and sleeves. The uneven length, shorter in the front and cascading down at the back, added an almost ethereal quality to her movements. One side of the robe had slipped off her shoulder, exposing the smooth curve of her collarbone. She was barefoot, each step light and purposeful, exuding a confidence that was both effortless and commanding.
Cullen, seated at the kitchen table, looked up as she entered, and his breath caught. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. He had never seen her like this—not armored and not in travel gear. She seemed more herself, and yet somehow more breathtaking than ever. If he had thought her beautiful before, now he was certain the word was insufficient.
Isabel, who had been tending to something at the counter, turned and immediately raised an eyebrow. Even she hadn’t expected Ariana to return looking like this, especially given their guest. “Well,” Isabel said, her tone full of dry humor as she gave Ariana a pointed look, “I see you made yourself… comfortable.”
“What can I say?” Ariana replied breezily, brushing past Isabel’s subtle judgment with a casual wave of her hand. “It has been a long journey. I am tired, and I did not feel like fussing over buckles and straps. Certainly not with dresses.” She moved toward the table with an air of nonchalance, though the glint in her eye betrayed her true intent.
“Hmm,” Isabel murmured, her gaze flicking between Ariana and Cullen, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Very well. Dinner is ready. I’ll go fetch a bottle of wine from the cellar,” she added, her voice laced with meaning as she left them alone.
Ariana took the seat across from Cullen, leaning forward slightly as she rested her arms on the table. Her smile was soft and warm, yet her eyes sparkled with mischief. “That is better,” she said, exhaling in a way that seemed to let the weight of the road fall away. “I will not be missing life on the road for a while, if I am honest.”
Cullen opened his mouth to respond, but no coherent words formed. His mind was thoroughly distracted, trying to reconcile the composed and formidable Ariana he had always known with the relaxed and radiant woman sitting before him. She was so at ease, so confident, that it was utterly disarming.
“I’m… sure,” he finally managed to stammer out, clearing his throat in an attempt to regain some semblance of composure.
Ariana’s grin widened, clearly delighted by his flustered reaction. She leaned back in her chair, tilting her head slightly as if studying him. “Are you all right, Knight-Captain? You seem a bit… distracted.”
Cullen ran a hand through his hair, letting out a short, almost nervous laugh. His golden eyes locked onto hers, narrowing slightly as he leaned forward just a touch. “What are you trying to do, Ariana? What do you want?” His tone carried a mix of curiosity and exasperation, though the warmth in his voice betrayed the deeper affection behind his words.
Ariana’s smile deepened, a soft, almost secretive expression spreading across her face. “Everything.” The playful lilt in her tone made it clear she knew exactly what she was doing.
The charged air between them lingered, her words amplifying the tension. Ariana was reveling in the moment, while Cullen found himself walking the fine line between being completely disarmed and entirely captivated. The challenge in her eyes brought back the earlier thoughts he had tried—and failed—to control.
As Isabel returned with the wine, the moment broke, though Ariana’s triumphant grin lingered. Isabel’s sharp green eyes flicked between them, and she smirked knowingly. “Well,” she said lightly, setting the bottle down on the table, “I see I missed all the fun.”
“Hardly,” Cullen muttered, his voice tinged with exasperation as he straightened in his seat.
Ariana chuckled softly, her gaze still dancing with mischief as she turned her attention to the wine. Isabel poured the drinks with a knowing look, her humor evident even as she remained silent. Cullen, still trying to steady his thoughts, resolved then and there that he needed to tread carefully with Ariana tonight.
~~~
After dinner, Ariana led Cullen out to the courtyard. The cool night air greeted them, the faint scent of the sea drifting through Kirkwall’s Hightown. Isabel had been right; the courtyard was peaceful, lit by the soft glow of lanterns and the moon above. She walked ahead of him, her steps slower than usual. The weight of the Divine’s request hung heavy on her shoulders, mingling with the tangled web of secrets she already carried. The space felt private, almost sacred, a quiet reprieve from the chaos of her thoughts.
“You know,” she said, tilting her head to the sky, her eyes tracing the stars, “while I’m not eager to be back on the road, there’s something… different about watching the stars at sea. Depending on them as your sole point of reference to guide you… home.”
As she spoke, her hand slid into his, her fingers intertwining with his as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Her grip tightened slightly as she said the word ‘home’, and Cullen couldn’t help but glance down at their joined hands.
Her grip and the weight of her words didn’t escape him. “Ari…” Cullen began, his voice low and steady, searching for the right words. But before he could continue, she interrupted him.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her gaze dropping to the ground as she let go of his hand and stepped forward, hugging her arms across her chest.
“For what?” Cullen asked, stepping closer, his worry deepening.
“For being difficult,” she replied after a brief pause, her lips curving into a faint, self-deprecating smile. But inside, her thoughts were a storm. I’m sorry for everything. For the lies. For the things I can never tell you. For what’s coming. “I’ve probably just been on the road too long with only my thoughts for company” she continued taking a deep breath.
He studied her carefully, his head tilting slightly. “Did something happen during your trip?” he asked gently, his tone steady but probing.
She hesitated, her gaze dropping for just a moment. “No,” she said finally, the lie slipping out far too easily. But in her mind, the answer was anything but simple. Yes. Everything happened. I made a choice—a choice that might one day force me to stand against you “Nothing important just… the game. It was just Orlais.” she said sounding defeated.
He stepped closer, his hand brushing her arm. “Ari,” he said softly, his voice warm and reassuring, “talk to me. Please.”
She shook her head, a small, forced laugh escaping her lips. “It’s nothing,” she said, her tone carefully controlled. But inside, her thoughts screamed the truth. And it’s everything. It’s the Divine’s request, it’s Meredith, the White Wolf, it’s the fact that I might one day be your enemy.
The tears came before she could stop them, welling up in her eyes despite her best efforts. She blinked rapidly, trying to hide them, but Cullen wasn’t fooled. His heart twisted at the sight of her pain, at the resilience she was struggling to uphold.
“Something’s wrong,” he said quietly, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the first tear that escaped. “You don’t have to tell me right now. I’ll wait. For as long as you need.”
Ariana’s breath caught at his words, at the unshakable steadiness in his voice. She wanted to tell him everything, wanted to let him shoulder the weight she carried. But she couldn’t. Not when she knew what her choices might cost them both.
Cullen, sensing her hesitation, made a decision of his own. He didn’t ask again. Instead, he pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist as he leaned in. His lips found hers with an intensity that left no room for doubt. The kiss wasn’t tentative or gentle—it was a declaration, a silent promise that whatever storm she faced, he would face it with her.
Ariana’s hands found his shoulders, gripping tightly as though afraid to let go. She melted into him, letting the kiss consume her, letting it drown out the weight of her thoughts, if only for a moment. He held her as if she were his entire world, as if letting go wasn’t an option.
When they finally pulled apart, their breaths mingling in the cool night air, Cullen rested his forehead against hers, his hand still cradling her face.
“What was that for?” Ariana asked softly, her voice unsteady but laced with warmth.
“To remind you,” he said simply, his golden eyes searching hers, “that you’ll never be alone.”
Her heart ached at his words, at the sincerity in his voice. She smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered, her fingers brushing lightly against his jaw.
He kissed her forehead, his touch lingering as if trying to reassure her without words. “I mean it, Ari,” he said softly. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”
Ariana nodded, leaning into him, letting herself believe it for just a moment. But deep down, she knew the truth: she wasn’t sure she’d ever have the courage to let him face it with her. And as they stood there in the quiet glow of the courtyard, she felt the first cracks in her resolve—the slow but inevitable beginning of the lies she would carry between them.