10 – 11 Justinian 9:41
The morning sun filtered through the high windows of Skyhold, casting golden rays across the stone walls of the fortress. Ariana stood at the battlements, her arms resting on the cool stone as she watched the courtyard below. Soldiers moved in synchronized drills, villagers bustled with daily tasks, and merchants shouted over one another as they set up their makeshift stalls.
The crisp mountain air carried the faint clatter of swords and hammers—a sound she’d always found comforting. Yet, despite the familiar rhythm, Ariana couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest.
Since being named Inquisitor, her days had blurred into a chaotic whirlwind of decisions and expectations. Each morning seemed to bring new responsibilities, and she was still trying to figure out how to carry the weight of it all.
She sighed softly, running a hand through her hair. The deference others now showed her, the bows and titles—it all felt surreal. Unnatural.
“It’s like they’ve forgotten I’m just me,” she muttered to herself.
“Talking to yourself now?” a familiar voice called from behind her, light with amusement.
Ariana turned to see Cullen approaching, his expression equal parts bemusement and concern. His armor gleamed faintly in the sunlight, but it was the steady warmth in his hazel eyes that drew her attention.
“More like trying to sort out my thoughts,” she replied lightly, though a hint of weariness lingered beneath her words. She tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly. “You left early this morning.”
Cullen nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I promised a recruit I’d help him with something. He’s been struggling with his footwork, but I’ll give him credit—he’s determined.”
“That sounds like you,” Ariana said with a soft laugh. “If you need help, send him to Elliott. Maker knows how nervous he was when he first joined us. He was so nervous riding with me that he almost fell off his horse before we even made it to Redcliffe.”
Her laughter brightened the morning air, and Cullen chuckled at the memory. But her gaze drifted back to the courtyard, her smile fading as her thoughts turned inward again. The weight of her new role settled heavily on her shoulders, a constant reminder of how much her life had changed.
As if sensing her unease, Cullen stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Ari, are you alright?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted softly, her eyes fixed on the training yard below. “I just feel… more at home down there than I do in the war room. Watching, strategizing, planning—it’s not me. I’d rather be down there, training with them, helping them get better.”
Cullen was quiet for a moment, listening as she continued.
“There was this one time in Kirkwall,” she said with a faint smile, her tone lighter. “Lamberto asked me to help him teach the recruits some basics. I’d just walked into the warehouse, hadn’t even set down my things yet, and he was already barking at me to demonstrate something. So I did. I showed them the basics—and then, well, I might’ve kicked his ass in front of everyone.” She laughed softly at the memory.
Cullen’s laugh joined hers, warm and genuine. “If that’s what you want to do, Ari, then go do it. I won’t stop you from training the recruits. Maker knows most of them could use the help.”
Ariana blinked, turning to look at him. His response caught her off guard. For a moment, she held his gaze, her thoughts spinning. Can I really do that?
“Do… do you mean it?” she asked cautiously.
Cullen chuckled, his hand brushing lightly against her arm. “Ari, love, you don’t need my permission. You’re the Inquisitor. If you want to spend your mornings in the training yard, then do that. If you want to spend your time with Riley and the Rangers, organizing missions, then do that. The Inquisition will follow you, whoever you choose to be and however you choose to lead.”
His words settled over her like the morning sun, warming her in a way she hadn’t expected. She smiled, the truth of his words beginning to take root in her heart.
“But what if I’d like my Commander training with me instead?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes as she bit her lip.
Cullen shook his head, laughing softly. “Then I will be there,” he promised, leaning in to kiss her.
Ariana responded without hesitation, wrapping her arms around him. For the first time in days, she felt the weight on her shoulders ease. She realized then that she didn’t need to separate herself from the White Wolf or the life she had led before. The Inquisitor could be all of that and more.
When they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his. “Thank you, Cullen. For everything.”
“You never need to thank me, love,” he said, his voice soft. “I’m here. Whatever you need.”
Ariana smiled faintly, savoring the quiet moment between them. But reality intruded, as it always did. “Are you ready to head to the war room? I’m sure Leliana and Josephine have been debating since dawn which matter is most urgent.”
“Of course they have,” Cullen said with a smirk. “And you? Do you have a preference?”
She raised an eyebrow, hopeful. “Do you have something actionable for me?”
Cullen sighed, his smile turning rueful. “I do, though I’m not sure you’ll like it.”
“Of course not,” she said with a groan, though the sincerity in his tone brought a faint smile to her lips. “Alright, Commander. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
As they walked together toward the war room, Ariana greeted soldiers and villagers along the way. For the first time, the bows and respectful murmurs didn’t feel as heavy. The doubts she had carried since her naming ceremony began to ease, piece by piece.
If they had chosen her to be their Inquisitor, then she would be who she had always been.
She wasn’t giving up the White Wolf or the life she loved. She was finding a way to carry it all—and for the first time, she believed she could.
~~~
By the time Ariana and Cullen entered the war room, Leliana, and Josephine were already gathered around the massive map of Thedas that dominated the table. Markers and notes cluttered its surface, denoting areas of unrest, ongoing missions, and critical concerns. The advisors straightened as she approached, their expressions a mix of anticipation and determination.
“All right, what do we have today?” Ariana asked, leaning against the edge of the table.
Cullen started first, his tone steady but grim. “We’ve located the soldiers who went missing in the Fallow Mire. Fortunately, they’re alive… for now.”
Ariana’s brow arched, bracing herself for the inevitable caveat. “Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”
Cullen exhaled heavily, his expression tightening. “They’re being held hostage by Avvar. Their leader demands to meet with the ‘Herald of Andraste’ if we want to see them released.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Ariana let out a frustrated sigh. “Please tell me they aren’t expecting me to appear tomorrow. That’s at least a seven-day ride—and that’s if I ride like I’ve got a dragon on my heels.”
“They haven’t given a specific deadline for your arrival,” Cullen assured her. “We can send word that you’re on your way. That should buy us time.”
“Fine,” she said with a resigned nod. “Send the message. I’ll leave at first light.”
Leliana stepped in next, her voice carrying the clipped precision of someone accustomed to delivering unwelcome news. “There’s also a request from Varric. He believes a Formari mage might be able to improve Bianca.”
Ariana’s gaze sharpened. “And what’s the catch?”
“Not exactly a catch,” Leliana replied, her tone measured. “The mage specialized in siege engines, which could prove valuable to us. But given the chaos of the rebellion, it’s possible this lead will lead nowhere.”
Ariana sighed, crossing her arms. “Do you think it’s worth pursuing?”
Leliana’s lips quirked slightly. “The potential gain outweighs the cost, I think. But Varric may need to temper his expectations.”
“Fine. Send the agents,” Ariana said, waving a hand. “What else?”
Josephine lifted an envelope from the table, her expression curious. “We’ve received a letter from Prince Sebastian Vael. He—”
“Sebastian!” Ariana interrupted, reaching eagerly for the letter. Breaking the seal, she scanned its contents, a soft smile spreading across her face.
Josephine tilted her head, intrigued. “You know the prince personally?”
Ariana nodded, still reading. “We met through Hawke. He stayed with us for a while after leaving Kirkwall. We even found out we might be distantly related. We spent weeks digging through records, though we never confirmed it.”
“What does he say?” Leliana asked, her curiosity piqued.
“He’s offering Starkhaven’s alliance to the Inquisition,” Ariana said, her voice carrying a mix of pride and affection. “He reclaimed the throne, just like he said he would. And now… now he’s keeping his word.”
Josephine smiled warmly. “I had planned to send emissaries to respond.”
“Do,” Ariana replied. “I’ll add a personal letter to go with them. You’ll have it before I leave.”
“Of course, Inquisitor,” Josephine said with a nod.
As the discussion wound down, Ariana glanced around the room. “Anything else I need to know before tomorrow?”
Cullen gestured toward the map. “Nothing that can’t wait.”
With a nod, Ariana pushed away from the table. “Then I trust you all to handle things while I’m gone. Keep me updated.”
As the advisors began to disperse, Cullen lingered, his gaze following Ariana as she tucked Sebastian’s letter into her pocket. Once the room had emptied, he stepped closer, his voice softer, more personal.
“Inquisitor Trevelyan,” he said, his lips quirking into a wry smile. “Still not used to it, are you?”
Ariana groaned, leaning against the table. “Not you too. Don’t you know better, Cullen?”
He chuckled, closing the distance between them. His hands rested on the table, one on either side of her, effectively trapping her in place. “It’s precisely because I know better, Inquisitor,” he murmured, his tone dipping low.
The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine, catching her completely off guard. For a moment, she forgot her retort, her sharp mind faltering as she stared up at him.
“Cullen…” she began, though her voice was far less steady than she intended. “You’re—”
“Distracting?” he finished, his smirk widening as he leaned closer.
“Infuriating,” she corrected, though her tone lacked conviction. She bit her lip, trying and failing to suppress the smile tugging at her mouth. “And distracting.”
“Forgive me,” he said, his voice rich with playful insinuation. “I hadn’t realized.”
Before she could counter, he kissed her, the intensity of it stealing her breath. Her arms slid instinctively around his neck, pulling him closer as she lost herself in him. The weeks of strain, of sleepless nights and unspoken fears, melted away in that moment.
When they finally broke apart, her breathing was uneven, her lips tingling. “Careful, Commander,” she teased, her voice husky. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“Am I?” he asked, his tone low, his eyes dark with longing. “Forgive me again, Inquisitor.”
Ariana’s laugh was soft, her hands resting against his chest as she looked up at him. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet you agreed to marry me,” Cullen replied without hesitation, his expression softening as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
Her smile faltered slightly, replaced by something more vulnerable. “I did,” she said quietly. “And I hate leaving you. But we’ll finish this later. I promise.”
Cullen nodded, his jaw tightening as he stepped back reluctantly. “I’ll hold you to that.”
As Ariana turned to leave, she glanced back over her shoulder, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “Meet me in the tavern tonight, Commander. I have an idea.”
Cullen’s smirk returned, though his gaze remained warm and steady. “I’ll be there.”
~~~
The tavern was alive with the hum of conversation, the clink of tankards, and the occasional burst of laughter. Cullen paused just inside the door, scanning the room until his gaze landed on Ariana. She sat at a table near the center, surrounded by Riley, Hawke, Valentina, and Lamberto, all of them deep into a game of Wicked Grace. Judging by the pile of coins in the middle of the table and the smirks on their faces, things had already gotten competitive.
His lips twitched into a smile as he watched her. There was an ease to her posture, her head tilted slightly as she exchanged quips with Riley. She seemed lighter tonight, more herself. Cullen couldn’t deny how deeply attractive she was when she was like this—confident, teasing, and completely in her element. But beyond that, it brought him relief to see her like this after the past few days of tension and self-doubt.
He approached just as Hawke slammed a card down with dramatic flair. “Full company!” she declared, grinning smugly as she leaned back in her chair.
Riley groaned, tossing her cards onto the table. “Maker’s breath, you’re cheating.”
“Don’t hate the player,” Hawke quipped, scooping the winnings into her pile. “Hate your terrible bluffing skills.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Ariana chimed in, her voice light with laughter. “She’s bluffing half the time too.”
Hawke shot her a mock glare. “Careful, Inquisitor, or I’ll start gunning for your pile next.”
Riley snorted. “Good luck with that. Wolf doesn’t lose easily.”
Ariana’s gaze shifted, catching Cullen as he approached. She motioned to the empty chair beside her, her lips curving into a playful smile. “What do you think, Commander? Do you think you can take me?”
The double meaning wasn’t lost on him, and he chuckled, shaking his head as he slid into the seat next to her. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a card player.”
“That just makes it easier for us,” Valentina quipped, shuffling the deck with quick, practiced movements.
Riley smirked, tossing another coin into the pot. “Come on, Commander. Don’t be shy. We’ll take it easy on you. For the first hand.”
“I doubt that,” Cullen said dryly, though he leaned closer to Ariana, their shoulders brushing. She glanced at him, her smirk softening into something quieter, more personal, before the game resumed.
The group’s banter was relentless, the kind of teasing camaraderie Cullen recognized from his own days as a recruit. Hawke and Riley each won a few rounds, though Ariana’s ability to keep her cards—and her intentions—hidden was unmatched. Cullen folded more often than not, content to observe the dynamics at the table. He couldn’t help but admire how natural Ariana was here, laughing and goading Riley with a mischievous quirk of her brow. She wasn’t the weight-of-the-world Inquisitor tonight—she was her. And Maker, she was captivating.
On the final hand, Riley, Hawke, and Ariana all grinned like wolves sizing up prey. Lamberto groaned, folding his cards. “I know better than to get between the three of you.”
Cullen followed suit, placing his cards facedown. “I’ll take the honorable retreat.”
The three women exchanged competitive glances before revealing their cards one by one. Hawke had a strong hand, and Riley’s was even better. But when Ariana laid her cards on the table, Riley groaned loudly.
“Damn it,” Riley muttered, throwing her cards down. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Ariana’s sly grin was entirely unapologetic. “I’m not. And I hate to disappoint, but I’m not giving you another chance to win your money back tonight.”
“Coward,” Hawke teased, echoing Ariana’s earlier jab.
Ariana stood, tucking her coins into her pouch as she prepared to leave. “Call it whatever you want. I’ve got better plans for the rest of my night.”
The silence at the table lasted all of two seconds before Riley smirked, leaning back with arms crossed. “Oh, we see that, Wolf. Don’t even pretend that wasn’t meant to be obvious.”
“Oh, Maker, she was just waiting to win before she left!” Hawke exclaimed, laughing. “Ari, you can’t just drop a line like that and not expect us to notice.”
Ariana rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed faintly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, feigning innocence as she adjusted her pouch.
Cullen sighed, rubbing his temples, but he couldn’t hide his amusement—or the way his pulse quickened when she turned her knowing smirk on him. She was clearly enjoying herself, and despite the teasing, he was happy to see her like this. Her confidence, her boldness—it was intoxicating, but more than that, it was proof that the weight she carried hadn’t crushed her. If anything, it made her shine brighter.
“Well, Commander, it certainly looks like you weren’t expecting that,” Lamberto said, gesturing toward Ariana.
Cullen cleared his throat, glancing at her. “She does like keeping me on my toes.”
Hawke leaned forward, elbows on the table and eyes gleaming with mischief. “Commander, are you really going to let her lead you out of here like that? You’re not even going to pretend to put up a fight?”
Riley snorted, tossing a coin into the pile. “Oh, come on, Hawke. You’d follow her too, and we all know it.”
“I mean, fair,” Hawke admitted with a shrug. “But I’d make it look like it was my idea.”
Ariana shook her head, grinning. “Riley would follow me too, and she wouldn’t even pretend it was her idea.”
“It’s true, Riley would follow in a heartbeat,” Valentina said with a smirk, raising her drink in mock salute.
Riley groaned. “Andraste’s ass, there’s not a person in this tavern who wouldn’t follow her if she said it like that.”
Ariana laughed, turning to Cullen as she motioned toward the door. “Come on, Commander. Let’s leave them to their terrible hands and worse jokes.”
Cullen rose, nodding to the group. “Try not to lose too much more money while we’re gone.”
“Oh, we’ll be fine,” Riley said, smirking. “The real question is whether you’ll survive the night.”
Cullen chuckled softly, placing his hand on the small of Ariana’s back as they made their way out. The teasing laughter followed them into the night, but as she led him toward the battlements, her steps confident and purposeful, he realized he didn’t care. Not tonight.
~~~
Ariana led him out of the tavern and across the courtyard, her steps purposeful. They ascended the battlements near the main gate, eventually stopping at a tower Cullen didn’t recognize. She opened the door and gestured for him to follow her inside.
“What is this place?” he asked, glancing around. The room was sparsely furnished with an old desk and several dusty bookshelves, though Ariana had clearly tidied it up.
“I found it while exploring,” she said casually, walking over to the ladder at the far end of the room. “Seems like it used to be someone’s office. But that’s not the best part.” She climbed the ladder, her voice floating down to him. “Come on.”
Cullen followed her up, emerging into what had once been someone’s quarters. It was small but cozy, with a bed tucked into the corner and a few candles providing a warm glow. The flickering light cast playful shadows on the walls, softening the sharp edges of the stone. To his surprise, the space had been meticulously cleaned and arranged, with fresh blankets on the bed and a few personal touches—a book on the nightstand, a lantern by the window.
Cullen laughed softly, shaking his head as he took in the sight. “You’ve been busy.”
“I didn’t think our tent offered enough privacy,” Ariana said, her tone light but her meaning unmistakable. Her gaze met his, a playful glint in her eyes. “Didn’t think you’d mind?”
“Not at all,” Cullen said, his voice low as he stepped closer. “So, is this what you spent all day doing?”
“Maybe,” she teased, tilting her head. “Are you complaining?”
His response was immediate, a soft laugh escaping as he closed the space between them. His hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him. “Not at all.”
Before she could say anything else, he swept her off her feet, her laughter turning into a surprised gasp as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He carried her to the bed, laying her down gently before leaning over her, his amber eyes dark with a mix of affection and desire.
Ariana’s lips curved into a mischievous smile as she tugged him down toward her. “I thought you might appreciate a quieter spot to finish what we started earlier.”
Cullen’s laughter was low, his breath warm against her skin. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
“Of course,” she said with a grin, her voice teasing. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
As he leaned in and kissed her, Cullen couldn’t help but feel the sharp edge of tomorrow pressing against the moment. She was leaving—again. She had just returned to him, and now she would be gone, riding into a world that was still reeling from Haven’s destruction, still dangerous and unpredictable.
He knew his fear was irrational. Ariana had proven herself time and again—she was strong, capable, and resilient. But the memory of her bruised and battered, finding her in the aftermath of Haven, was burned into his mind. The thought of her riding away without him, of something happening to her while he was here—powerless to protect her—made his chest tighten painfully.
As he leaned over her, his hands bracing the bed on either side of her, he felt the weight of all the words he could not say. The things he wanted to tell her—to beg her to stay, to let him go with her, to promise she would come back—remained lodged in his throat. Instead, he let his lips find hers again, pouring every unspoken fear and longing into the kiss.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, her touch grounding him as his body pressed against hers. Ariana’s warmth, her laughter, her steady strength—it was all here, in this room, in this moment. But tomorrow, she would be gone. And Cullen wasn’t sure how to reconcile the knot of fear in his chest with the love he felt for her.
“You don’t have to worry so much, you know,” she whispered against his lips, as though she could read the tension in his body, the thoughts swirling in his head.
Cullen pulled back just enough to look at her, his amber eyes meeting her hazel-green gaze. “You say that like it’s easy,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion.
Her smile turned mischievous, and before he could say anything else, she kissed him. It was bold and unhesitating, her lips moving against his with a confidence that left no room for doubt. Cullen’s breath caught, his hands instinctively pulling her closer as she deepened the kiss, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
When they finally broke apart, he was breathing harder than he realized, and she was watching him with a smugness that made him both want to laugh and kiss her senseless.
“You’re not going to think about tomorrow tonight,” she said firmly, her voice softer now but no less sure. “That’s an order, Commander.”
Cullen chuckled, his hands sliding up to frame her face. “Oh, so you’re in charge now?” he teased, though the low rasp in his voice betrayed how much she had already undone him.
Ariana’s grin widened. “Absolutely,” she said, leaning in to brush her lips against his jaw, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And you’re going to do exactly what I say.”
Her hands slid lower, tugging at the edge of his shirt, and Cullen groaned softly as she began to undress him with a kind of deliberate slowness that was both maddening and intoxicating. The teasing curve of her lips told him she was enjoying this, savoring his reactions as much as he savored her touch.
When flipped him back onto the bed, straddling his hips, Cullen let her, his body responding instantly to the warmth of her pressed against him. Her boldness had always drawn him to her, and tonight, that confidence burned brighter than ever.
But as much as he admired the way she took control, something inside him wouldn’t let her keep it—not tonight. Not when every kiss, every touch, reminded him how easily she could be taken away.
When she leaned down, her lips brushing against his neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below his ear, Cullen’s hands tightened on her hips. A growl escaped him, low and deep in his throat, and before she could react, he shifted his weight, flipping her onto her back with a suddenness that made her gasp.
Ariana’s wide hazel-green eyes locked onto his, her surprise quickly melting into a slow, mischievous smile. “Oh?” she said, her voice breathless but still laced with that bold, teasing edge. “Decided you’ve had enough of my orders, Commander?”
Cullen braced himself above her, his golden eyes dark and intent as they roamed over her flushed face, her tousled hair, the way her body curved beneath him. “I’ve had enough of letting you think you’re in control,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire.
Her smile widened, her hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “Is that so?”
“Very,” he replied, leaning down until his lips were a breath away from hers. “And now, Inquisitor, I’m going to show you exactly what you mean to me.”
His kiss was hard, deep, and unrelenting, leaving no room for Ariana’s teasing to resurface. Cullen poured everything he felt into the kiss—the love, the fear, the overwhelming need to remind her she wasn’t just his Inquisitor, wasn’t just the leader of the Silver Rangers. She was his.
Ariana’s boldness faltered under the weight of his intensity, her teasing smile replaced by a soft gasp as his lips left hers, trailing down her jaw, her neck, the curve of her shoulder. Cullen wasn’t gentle, not entirely. His touch was firm, deliberate, as though he wanted to mark her, to imprint this moment onto her skin so she would carry it with her when she left.
Her hands slid to his back, her nails digging in slightly as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her collarbone. She arched beneath him, her breath hitching as he pressed his weight against her, holding her in place.
“Cullen,” she murmured, her voice softer now, almost pleading.
He lifted his head, his amber eyes meeting hers, and the vulnerability he saw there made his chest tighten. “I’ve let you lead, Ariana,” he said, his voice low but steady. “But tonight, I need you to let me take care of you.”
Her gaze softened, her fingers brushing against his cheek. “You already do,” she whispered.
But Cullen shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Not like this,” he said, his tone tinged with something darker, something that made her shiver.
He kissed her again, slower this time, his hands roaming her body with a deliberateness that left no inch of her unexplored. She was used to guiding him, to teasing him, but now, it was her turn to be undone.
Cullen’s touch was firm yet tender, his lips trailing over her skin in a way that made her gasp and tremble beneath him. He moved with purpose, his hands gripping her hips as though grounding her, his kisses leaving a trail of heat that sent her heart racing.
When she tried to take control again, shifting her weight to push him back, Cullen’s hand caught hers, pinning it above her head as his lips curved into a rare, roguish smile. “Not this time,” he said softly, his voice laced with amusement. “Tonight, you’re mine.”
Ariana’s breath hitched, her body arching beneath him as he continued his slow, deliberate assault on her senses. He was meticulous, every touch, every move, and every kiss designed to make her lose herself, to forget everything but him. And it worked.
She whispered his name, her voice raw and pleading, and Cullen responded with a soft groan, his hands tightening on her hips as he claimed her in a way that left no room for doubt. This wasn’t just about passion—it was about love, about grounding her as much as she grounded him, about showing her how much she meant to him.
The hours blurred into each other, a haze of whispered names, shared laughter, and the kind of intimacy that left them both feeling raw and whole all at once.
By the time the faint glow of twilight began to creep through the window, the night had nearly given way to morning. Cullen lay tangled with her in the sheets, his body pleasantly sore and his mind uncharacteristically quiet. The fire had long since burned low, leaving only embers to warm the room, but the heat of her beside him was all he needed.
Ariana rested against his chest, her breath soft and even, the boldness she had carried through the night now replaced with a tranquil contentment. He brushed his fingers gently through her hair, reluctant to let the moment slip away, even as the light outside grew steadily stronger.
“We’ll only have an hour or so before the sun rises,” he murmured, his voice low, more to himself than to her.
Her lips curved faintly against his skin, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then I suppose we’ll just have to make it count.”
~~~
Cullen woke just as dawn broke through, disoriented for a moment by the unfamiliar surroundings of the room Ariana had found for them. The faint light of the rising sun seeped through the small window, casting a soft glow over the space. His gaze shifted to her, still asleep beside him, her back pressed against his chest. One arm was draped across her waist, and he tightened it slightly, savoring the quiet warmth of her presence.
For a while, he simply watched her. Her face, so often set with determination, was softened in sleep, her features peaceful and unguarded. Maker, how long had it been since they’d had even this small reprieve? His hand moved almost without thought, tracing idle patterns along her stomach, as if grounding himself in the reality of her presence.
The night before had given him a sense of relief he hadn’t felt in weeks. But now, with the dawn creeping in, the weight of the day ahead pressed heavily on him. She was leaving again. And if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t ready for it.
“Not yet,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder. The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice barely audible even to himself.
Ariana stirred lightly, turning in his arms to face him. Her head nestled against his chest, her eyes still closed as she muttered groggily, “What are you overthinking this time?”
“Nothing you need to worry about, love,” he replied softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her breathing steadied again as she drifted back to sleep, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
The image of her atop the trebuchet in Haven surfaced unbidden, as it always did. The snow had started to fall then, thick and relentless, and he’d watched in horror as she stayed behind to trigger the avalanche. He remembered the unbearable hours that followed—wondering if she’d survived, not knowing if he’d lost her. That fear had never fully left him, even as they rebuilt and pressed on. And now, as she prepared to ride out again, it surged anew, twisting in his chest.
When she finally stirred again, the first rays of light spilling through the window, she stretched lazily before blinking up at him. “Good morning,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.
“Morning,” Cullen replied, his hand now tracing absent shapes along her arm and shoulder. He was memorizing the way her skin felt under his fingertips, as though he could hold onto this moment just a little longer.
She sighed softly, her lips curving into a faint smile. But then, as if remembering the day ahead, she said, “I should get going.”
Cullen tightened his hold on her, his voice low but earnest as he admitted, “I’m not ready to let you go, Ari. After Haven… how do we even know that—”
She silenced him with a kiss, soft and gentle, still carrying the warmth of sleep. He didn’t resist, letting the comfort of her lips quiet the turmoil in his mind.
When she finally pulled back, her voice was a whisper against his lips. “We don’t,” she said simply. “I can’t promise you any certainty that it’s safe beyond these walls. But we still have work to do. A world to save.”
Her words were steady, but they didn’t ease the tightness in his chest. He exhaled slowly, nodding despite the unease that lingered. He knew she couldn’t stay—not when there were lives to save and battles to fight. But knowing didn’t make it easier.
She kissed him again, lingering a moment longer before slipping out of bed to get dressed. Cullen stayed where he was, propped on one elbow as he watched her move about the room. There was a quiet efficiency to her movements, but her eyes held a flicker of something—hesitation, perhaps, or the weight of what lay ahead.
By the time she made her way down to the main gate, Cullen had donned his armor and joined her to see her off. The cold morning air bit at his skin as he stood by the gate, watching as Cassandra, Iron Bull, and Dorian joined her one by one. They exchanged brief words, their tones calm and practical, though the tension in the air was palpable.
Ariana mounted her horse with practiced ease, her posture composed, her expression serene. She glanced up toward the battlements where Cullen stood, their eyes meeting across the distance. For a moment, the noise of the world around him seemed to fade. She offered him a small, reassuring smile, and he couldn’t help but return it, though the weight in his chest only grew heavier.
As the group began their slow trek out of Skyhold, Cullen’s gaze remained fixed on her. Each step her horse took away from the gates felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He trusted her completely—her skill, her instincts—but that trust didn’t quiet the fear that coiled in his chest. She was riding into danger, and he couldn’t follow. Not this time.
When they finally disappeared down the mountain pass, Cullen let out a shaky breath, his grip tightening on the cold stone of the battlement. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach, one he couldn’t shake.
Turning away from the edge, he murmured a prayer under his breath. “Andraste, guide her steps… and bring her back to me.”
~~~
The morning was well underway when Varric strolled into the main hall of Skyhold, Bianca slung casually over his back. He hadn’t been able to find Ariana anywhere in the usual spots—the tavern, the war room, the battlements. After his conversation with Hawke a few days ago, he was ready to start setting their apology plan in motion, but that required finding Ariana first.
“Where the hell is she?” he muttered to himself as he walked the battlements toward the tower where a soldier had told him he could find Cullen. If anyone kept more tabs on Ariana than he did, it was Cullen. That man was nothing if not thorough where Ariana was concerned.
The door to the tower was partially ajar, and Varric stepped inside finding Cullen poring over a pile of reports already stacked on the desk. The makeshift office was still sparse, but it was clear Ariana’s hand had been at work—bookshelves had been dusted, the desk cleaned and organized, and a few personal touches added. Cullen didn’t look up at first, so Varric cleared his throat.
“Commander,” he said, his tone light but carrying just enough weight to grab Cullen’s attention. “You got a minute?”
Cullen glanced up, surprised but not unwelcoming. “Varric. What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for Ariana,” Varric said, stepping further into the room. “Figured she might be with you or at least within shouting distance.”
Cullen’s brow furrowed slightly, and he leaned back in his chair. “She left this morning,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of confusion. “For the Fallow Mire. She won’t be back for a couple of weeks.”
Varric froze, the words hitting him harder than he expected. “She left?” he repeated, his voice quieter now. “And didn’t tell me?”
Cullen studied him for a moment, the tension in Varric’s expression clear. “She decided it yesterday,” he said cautiously. “She has to go rescue a group of soldiers being held hostage by some Avvar demanding to meet the ‘Herald of Andraste’… did she not tell you?”
“No,” Varric muttered, his shoulders slumping slightly. He glanced at the ground, his mind racing. She didn’t even bother to tell me she was leaving. Damn it, I really screwed this up.
Cullen seemed to pick up on his turmoil, and his tone softened. “She’s hurt, Varric. But she just needs time.”
“Time, huh?” Varric said bitterly, his gaze still fixed on the floor. “Doesn’t feel like time’s gonna fix this.”
Cullen stood, walking around the desk to stand closer. “She’s not angry because of what you did, Varric. She’s hurt because she doesn’t understand why. Ariana trusts you—trusted you more than anyone else in her life. And when you didn’t trust her in return, it made her question everything.”
Varric looked up, meeting Cullen’s steady gaze. “You think she’ll forgive me?”
Cullen’s expression softened further, his voice carrying a quiet certainty. “I know she will. She needs you, Varric. But you have to earn back her trust. Do whatever it takes.”
Varric nodded slowly, the weight of Cullen’s words settling over him. “Thanks, Commander,” he said quietly. “And for the record, I know I’ve got my work cut out for me.”
Cullen gave him a faint smile, clapping him once on the shoulder before returning to his desk. Varric turned to leave, his mind already thinking back to how to adjust the plan him and Hawke had come up with as descended the tower steps.
Varric found Hawke in one of the tavern, lounging on a chair with a book in hand. She glanced up as he entered, a knowing smirk spreading across her face. “Judging by the look on your face, you finally figured out what ‘mad as a hornet’ really means.”
“She didn’t tell me she was leaving,” Varric said bluntly, leaning against the doorframe.
Hawke’s smirk faltered slightly. “She mentioned it last night. When we were playing cards.”
“She told you?” Varric asked, his voice rising slightly with incredulity.
“She mentioned it offhand,” Hawke replied, shrugging. “Something about leaving for the Mire at first light. I assumed you knew.”
“Well, I didn’t,” Varric muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “She didn’t even bother to tell me. Guess that says a lot.”
Hawke closed the book, leaning forward with a serious expression. “It says she’s hurt, Varric. But you already knew that. What matters now is what you’re going to do about it.”
“Well, I might need to adjust our plan a bit,” Varric said, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. “Working on the apology. You know, the whole grand gesture thing.”
Hawke’s brows lifted slightly. “And?”
“And it’s a work in progress,” Varric admitted. “I was hoping to give her something today. A first step.”
“Well, now you’ve got time,” Hawke said firmly. “She’s gone for at least a couple of weeks. Use it. Get the apology perfect. And don’t come back to me until you’ve got a draft ready for review.”
Varric sighed, though he couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Hawke grinned, leaning back in her chair. “What can I say? You’ve got a lot to make up for, and I happen to enjoy watching you squirm. Now get to work.”
Shaking his head but unable to suppress a chuckle, Varric turned to leave. “Alright, Hawke. I’ll be back with something before the day’s out.”
“Good,” Hawke called after him. “And Varric? Make it count.”