Cullen leaned against the headboard of their quarters, his arms wrapped loosely around Ariana, who sat nestled between his legs. Her warmth, the subtle weight of her against his chest, was grounding in a way he hadn’t felt in what seemed like years. His fingers brushed absentmindedly against her arm as he gazed toward the balcony, watching the pale light of midmorning dance across the Frostbacks. For once, the endless stream of worries that usually crowded his thoughts was distant. Quiet.
She sighed contentedly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm, and he couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. How is it that she can make everything feel so still, so simple?
“So,” he said softly, breaking the comfortable silence, “were you just trying to distract me earlier?”
Ariana tilted her head back, her hazel-green eyes alight with amusement. “Maybe I was distracting both of us,” she replied, her smile lazy but teasing.
His chuckle rumbled in his chest as he tightened his hold on her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I suppose I can’t argue with the results,” he murmured, his voice laced with affection.
For a time, they lapsed into quiet again, their breathing in sync as they sat entwined. But as Cullen’s mind wandered, a thought—unbidden and strangely persistent—began to surface. He frowned slightly, unsure of why it had returned to him now, but the memory refused to fade. Finally, he gave voice to it.
“Can I ask you something?” he ventured, his tone tentative.
Ariana twisted slightly to glance over her shoulder, her curiosity evident in her raised brow. “Anything,” she said simply, her smile reassuring.
Cullen hesitated, his fingers brushing absently over her hand. “Back in Kirkwall,” he began slowly, “were you… responsible for all the intercepted mage transports?”
Ariana blinked, startled, before a laugh escaped her lips. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” she asked incredulously, though her tone was light. “Are you asking if I, personally, was responsible or if the Rangers were responsible?”
“Both?” Cullen replied, his lips quirking slightly as he met her gaze.
She shifted, sliding lower against his chest as her head rested on his shoulder. “I suppose without seeing all the reports you had, I can only guess. But yes, the Rangers were responsible for most of them. As for me… I wasn’t personally involved in all of them. Only the ones I deemed riskier.”
His brow furrowed slightly at that. “Riskier how?”
Ariana’s gaze drifted toward the ceiling, her expression contemplative. “Larger groups. Stronger escorts. Or… when I was particularly angry,” she admitted, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
“Angry?” Cullen pressed gently, sensing a deeper story behind her words.
She sighed, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of his bracer. “Do you remember the day you caught me and Valentina leaving the warehouse in Lowtown?”
Cullen stilled, the memory coming to him with startling clarity. He remembered the way she had stumbled into him, the tension in her voice when she explained her presence, and the way her words—and his—had left a chasm between them. “I remember,” he said quietly. “I told you… I just wished that whatever it was didn’t have to live in the space between us.”
Ariana nodded, a faint, bittersweet smile playing on her lips. “Yes, that day. I was so angry after that. Not at you,” she added quickly, tilting her head to look at him. “Never at you. I was angry at myself for being careless. For having to hide. For being… less than what I should have been.”
Cullen frowned. “Less?”
“I’d spent months recovering after the Qunari uprising,” she explained, her voice soft but steady. “Months of idleness, of feeling like I was losing everything that made me… me. The White Wolf had become a ghost, a shadow. That day… that day I realized I wasn’t ready to let her fade into legend. I needed to prove to myself that she was still alive.”
His arms tightened around her instinctively, his lips brushing her temple. “So, you did intercept the transport from Starkhaven?”
She nodded again. “It was the first time I stepped into the field again after the uprising. I wasn’t sure if I was still capable. But by the end of it… I knew. The White Wolf wasn’t gone. She was just waiting.”
Cullen was silent for a moment, his heart heavy with both admiration and regret. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
“For what?” she asked, turning slightly to face him, her brow furrowed.
“For everything I said. For every time I doubted you.” His gaze searched hers, raw with emotion. “For not being the man you needed me to be.”
Ariana’s expression softened as she cupped his face in her hands. “You were always exactly the man I needed,” she said firmly, her voice steady. “You were in an impossible position, Cullen. We both were.”
He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly. When he opened them, they were drawn to her hand as it traced the faint scar above his lip. Her fingers lingered there, her eyes filled with a quiet intensity.
“When did this happen?” she asked softly.
“During the fight against Meredith,” he replied, his voice tinged with both pride and sorrow. “She… wasn’t holding back.”
Ariana’s gaze darted to the horizon, her expression distant as memories of that night surfaced. “I don’t remember,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “I saw you from across the courtyard, but… I was already—”
“Bleeding,” Cullen finished for her, his tone gentle but firm. “Michael was practically carrying you out by the end. Ari, you’d lost so much blood by then, it’s no wonder you don’t remember.”
Her lips parted as if to protest, but she closed them again, her eyes dropping to her lap. Cullen reached up, covering her hand with his own. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said quietly, his voice filled with conviction. “None of it was.”
Ariana met his gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Slowly, she nodded, her fingers intertwining with his. “I know,” she said, her voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “And neither was it yours.”
Cullen let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “Then let’s stop carrying it,” he murmured, his words a quiet plea.
She smiled faintly, her arms slipping around his neck as she rested her forehead against his. “Together?” she asked softly.
“Always,” he replied, his voice steady and sure.
And in that moment, the weight of Kirkwall felt just a little lighter.
~~~
Cullen stepped into the war room, Ariana just a step behind him, to find Leliana, Josephine, and Riley gathered around the table. Maps and reports were scattered across its surface, but none of them seemed particularly focused. Leliana wore her usual air of calm detachment, but there was a faint smirk tugging at her lips. Josephine, on the other hand, looked positively animated, her hands moving as she leaned toward Riley, who lounged back in her chair, grinning like she’d just shared the most scandalous bit of news.
For a moment, Cullen felt out of place—like he’d walked into the middle of a conversation he wasn’t meant to overhear. But Ariana’s amused huff beside him pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Am I interrupting something?” Ariana asked, her tone playful as she folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Or should I come back later when you’ve solved the mystery of Skyhold’s social intrigues?”
Josephine straightened in her chair, a faint blush creeping to her cheeks. “Inquisitor, we were simply—”
“Gossiping,” Riley cut in, unapologetic. “And quite thoroughly, I might add.”
Ariana snorted, leaning against the edge of the table. “And here I thought the Inquisition’s greatest minds were hard at work. Let me guess—this is about the stablehand and the cook?”
Riley grinned, her expression almost predatory. “No, but did you hear about Hawke and Iron Bull?”
Ariana laughed, the sound bright and unabashed. “Oh, that’s so fake. Hawke would never cheat on Fenris. Have you seen Fenris? That is one gorgeous elf. And Hawke is absolutely in love with him.”
Cullen’s lips twitched in a faint smile as he watched her, her energy infectious even when she was indulging in nonsense. He shook his head slightly, leaning against the wall.
“Well,” Ariana continued, her grin widening, “I did hear about Flissa and Bull, though…”
Josephine gasped softly, clearly delighted. “I hadn’t heard that one!”
Riley waved a hand dismissively. “That’s old news. What’s really interesting is what Wolf just said—Bull has a thing for redheads. He’s just waiting for Leliana to notice him.”
Leliana raised an eyebrow, her tone utterly deadpan. “How fortunate for him that I’m far too busy running a spy network to entertain such notions.”
Ariana smirked, leaning closer to Riley as if sharing a secret. “You’d better be careful, Leliana. He might write you a poem.”
“Iron Bull?” Josephine blinked. “A poem?”
“Who’s to say he doesn’t have a secret romantic side?” Riley teased. “For all we know, the man writes sonnets in his spare time.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Leliana replied dryly, though her faint smile suggested she wasn’t entirely immune to the humor.
Josephine suddenly perked up. “Oh, speaking of surprises, I heard from Dorian that Cassandra and Varric are an item.”
Ariana burst out laughing, holding her stomach as she doubled over slightly. “Oh, no. That one’s definitely not true. But—” she paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “—Dorian did ask them both about it last time we were in the Storm Coast. I thought Cassandra might throw him into the sea.”
Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, though his smile lingered. “Maker’s breath,” he muttered under his breath, finally cutting through the chatter. “Should I just come back later? Or do we have an Inquisition to run?”
The group stilled for a moment before Riley grinned wider. “Wait, there’s one more rumor you might be interested in, Commander.”
Cullen gave her a wary look. “What rumor?”
Riley leaned back in her chair, clearly savoring the moment. “Word’s spreading outside Skyhold, all the way to Lydes and Denerim. Rangers are reporting that the Commander of the Inquisition proposed to the Inquisitor.”
Ariana laughed first, the sound quickly joined by Riley and even Leliana. Josephine covered her mouth with her hand, giggling softly.
Cullen sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Of course they are,” he said, though the faint warmth in his cheeks betrayed his exasperation. He wasn’t truly upset—how could he be? Everyone knew Ariana was his. He glanced at her, catching the way her eyes sparkled with amusement, and his heart softened despite himself.
“Well,” Ariana teased, nudging his arm, “at least they got that one right.”
Cullen shook his head, but he couldn’t suppress the small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. “Shall we get started now, or are there more rumors I need to be aware of?”
“Not yet,” Riley quipped, grinning. “But give it time, Commander. Give it time.”
Cullen leaned against the edge of the war table, watching Ariana as she deftly worked through the morning’s tasks. The scene before him was familiar: maps strewn across the table, markers denoting troop movements and known threats, the hum of purposeful conversation filling the air. But his focus was on her—always on her.
“Alright, let’s get to it before the Commander decides to run the Inquisition by himself…” Ariana teased, her voice carrying an easy warmth that made the room feel lighter. She paused, tilting her head with exaggerated thought. “On second thought… that’s not the worst idea.”
Her smirk was infuriating and infectious all at once, drawing laughter from Leliana, Josephine, and Riley. Cullen sighed, shaking his head and resisting the urge to rise to her bait. “Andraste grant me patience…” he muttered, though the faint curve of his lips betrayed his amusement. He caught Ariana’s gaze, and the look she gave him—playful, confident, utterly maddening—made him smile despite himself.
Still, he was here for a purpose. Straightening, he cleared his throat. “I believe I may have an update on the red templars you encountered.”
Ariana raised a brow, intrigued. “Already? That was fast.”
“It coincided with a search I had already ordered,” Cullen explained, keeping his tone measured. “It appears they’re smuggling red lyrium to Therinfal Redoubt.”
Her expression sharpened, her focus narrowing like a blade. “What are you thinking?”
“We find where the caravans come from and cut their supply,” he replied, his tone gaining an edge. “It should help to weaken them.”
“Alright, you got a starting point for me?” she asked.
That was the question Cullen had been dreading. He hesitated for the briefest moment before answering. “Signs are pointing to the Emerald Graves, or somewhere along that route.”
She nodded thoughtfully, turning to Riley. “Do we have anyone out that way?”
Riley stepped closer to the map, her brow furrowed in thought. “Yes, we do—well, sort of. The Rangers I mentioned in Lydes. We could redirect them down towards the Emerald Graves before they head home.”
Ariana nodded, her decision swift. “Do it. Scouting only. If they can narrow it down for me, I’ll go handle it.”
Cullen felt his stomach tighten. Maker help me. He wanted this investigation. He wanted to see the red templars weakened. But what he didn’t want was for Ariana to handle it personally. Yet he knew better than to argue. She wouldn’t listen, not when she had already made up her mind.
“Anything else?” Ariana asked, her tone brisk.
“Yes, Inquisitor,” Josephine chimed in, her polished voice carrying a note of curiosity. “We received a letter from King Alistair for you.” She handed over a sealed envelope.
Ariana took the letter, breaking the seal with practiced ease. Cullen watched as she read, her expression softening, a chuckle escaping her lips. Then another. The sound was light, familiar—personal. Cullen frowned, his curiosity stirring. Did she know Alistair well enough to be laughing at his correspondence? And what was in it that she found so amusing?
“Oh, that’s not good,” Ariana said suddenly, her tone shifting as she handed the letter to Riley. “Get Valentina and Linnea out there now.”
Riley took the letter, scanning it quickly. She chuckled a few times as well, but her expression soon mirrored Ariana’s concern. “Yeah, we probably should save the man that funds most of our expenses…”
“Funds?” Leliana and Josephine asked in unison, their voices laced with surprise.
“What’s going on?” Cullen asked, frustration creeping into his tone. He hated being left in the dark, especially when it concerned the Inquisition.
Ariana turned to him first, her expression calm but serious. “It would appear Venatori have infiltrated the palace. We need to root them out.”
“Venatori?” Cullen’s frown deepened. “Why would they target the palace?”
Before answering, Ariana turned to Josephine. “Rangers have had a contract with the King for years now, assisting in Ferelden’s rebuilding after the Blight.”
Josephine blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Is there anyone you don’t know, Inquisitor?”
Ariana laughed, the sound bright and unbothered. “A great many people, my dear ambassador.”
Cullen, however, couldn’t quite let it go. His gaze lingered on her, trying to piece together the story behind the laughter, the inside jokes she clearly shared with the King of Ferelden. He didn’t know why it bothered him. It wasn’t jealousy—was it? No, it couldn’t be. But the ease with which she interacted with everyone, from soldiers to kings, was something he could never quite reconcile.
As the morning wore on, the group worked seamlessly, organizing forces, redirecting scouts, and planning strategies. Cullen kept his focus on the tasks at hand, but his thoughts lingered on Ariana—on her ability to lead, to inspire, to shoulder burdens he sometimes wondered if anyone could bear. And somewhere in the back of his mind, the question still nagged at him: how well did she know Alistair, and why did it matter to him at all?
~~~
The war room was quiet now, the earlier bustle of plans and reports replaced by a stillness that felt almost too loud. Ariana was already halfway to the door when Cullen reached out, catching her arm gently.
“Ari, wait.”
She turned to him, her expression curious. “What is it?”
He hesitated, glancing toward the door to ensure they were alone. “Your… familiarity with King Alistair,” he began carefully. “It seemed… well, personal.”
Ariana blinked, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “Personal?” she repeated, a note of humor creeping into her voice. “Cullen, are you… jealous?”
His jaw tightened, and he straightened instinctively. “Jealous? I wouldn’t call it that,” he said quickly, though he could hear the slight defensiveness in his own tone. “I just… You seemed close.”
Her smile widened, the glint of mischief in her eyes unmistakable. “You know he’s married, right? To Lyna Mahariel. The Hero of Ferelden? They had a Dalish ceremony, or so I hear. It’s not official since he rules with Anora, but still…” She trailed off, her tone teasing. “You’re worried about him?”
Cullen flushed, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “That’s not the point,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself.
Ariana laughed softly, shaking her head as she reached into her satchel. “Here,” she said, pulling out the letter Alistair had sent and handing it to him. “Read it for yourself. Maybe then you’ll understand.”
Cullen took the parchment, his brow furrowing as he unfolded it. His eyes scanned the page, his lips moving faintly as he read:
My most esteemed White Wolf—or is it Inquisitor now? Or something about Your Worship?
First things first: an apology. I wasn’t in the best of moods the last time we saw each other. Sorry I didn’t have time to give you a better welcome. You’ll have to come to the palace. I’m still curious about the hand thingy.
However, to the problem at hand. These cultists… Venatori, I think they’re called? We have them in the royal palace, or so I’m told. Like rats—but with magic and nasty sneers. I don’t know what they’re up to, but I need to find them and drive them out. Since you seem to know all about them, can you come fix this too?
And since you’re paid to ‘fix all the things,’ that falls under our existing contract, right?
Something something grateful something.
Wait… did you just write that? You scribes do this on purpose, don’t you?
King Alistair Theirin
Cullen couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him. “Maker,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re saying this is the King… of Ferelden?”
“Yes, well” Ariana said, leaning casually against the edge of the table. “That’s Alistair for you. Half king, half… I don’t even know.”
He folded the letter, still smirking as he handed it back to her. “So, this is why you were amused?”
She nodded, tucking the letter away. “The Rangers have worked for him for years. Bann Teagan was the one who reached out to us initially, but he eventually introduced us to Alistair. We’ve met only a few times—mostly when things needed fixing that he couldn’t handle himself, or when he came to find Varric, and then at Redcliffe when we recruited the mages. Other than that, it’s just the occasional letter like this.” She paused, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Actually, the first time we met probably explains it best.”
Cullen tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Go on.”
“It was years ago, back around 9:32,” she began, leaning casually against the table. “We were called to Denerim by Bann Teagan, and when we arrived at the palace, Alistair was slouched over the throne like a bored tavern-goer waiting for his next drink. One leg draped over the armrest, the other stretched out on the floor. He looked at me, grinned like I’d just walked in with a tray of cookies, and said, ‘You’re the famous Silver Rangers, right? Or at least, you’re famous, according to Teagan here. He’s been singing your praises so loudly I think the pigeons have started delivering fan mail.’ Then we got sidetracked discussing the merits of pigeons as messengers. Then after Teagan finally got frustrated, Alistair got up, handed me a massive stack of reports and said, ‘Consider these your mission briefs. You’re officially tasked with… well, fixing all the things.’”
Cullen chuckled, the mental image of the king’s casual demeanor clashing with the grandeur of the throne room clearly amusing him. “He said that?”
“Word for word,” Ariana replied with a laugh. “I thought he was joking at first, but no—he meant it. I remember Bann Teagan looking like he wanted to strangle him right there. And Alistair, completely unfazed, just shrugged and then offered to pay us in pigeons.
Cullen shook his head, smiling despite himself. “And you just… did it?”
“Of course,” she said with a smirk. “We sorted out the issues, got the contracts rolling, and that was that. Afterward, he sent a pigeon—not a letter, an actual pigeon—with a message that just said, ‘Thanks for fixing all the things.’”
Cullen laughed outright this time, the sound warm and genuine. “Maker’s breath, no wonder you find his letters amusing.”
“See? Nothing to worry about,” Ariana said, stepping closer. “The man’s more afraid of me than anything else.”
Cullen raised an eyebrow, his grin lingering. “I believe it.”
“You do?” Ariana quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t seem afraid of me… are you?”
Cullen’s smile softened, his head tilting slightly as he regarded her. “You have no idea.”
Ariana chuckled, her hand brushing lightly against his chest as she stepped closer. “Good. Wouldn’t want you getting too comfortable, Commander.”
“I doubt that’s a danger with you around,” Cullen replied, his tone laced with warmth. But then his smile faltered, the earlier conversation lingering in his thoughts. His voice lowered, edged with something more vulnerable. “You know… it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just… seeing how at ease you were about Alistair. It surprised me. I suppose it made me wonder…”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Wonder if I’ve had… entanglements with the King of Ferelden?”
Cullen blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His jaw tightened, and a slight flush crept up his neck. “I wouldn’t have phrased it like that,” he said quickly, his tone more defensive than he intended. “But—”
“But you were thinking it,” Ariana teased, her voice lilting with playful accusation.
“I—” He faltered, then sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Perhaps the thought crossed my mind.”
Ariana shook her head, her laughter soft but genuine. “Oh, Cullen…” Her expression shifted then, the teasing smile fading, replaced by something quieter. Her hand tightened slightly on his chest, grounding herself as her gaze softened. “You have nothing to worry about,” she said gently. “There’s never been anyone else.”
Her words settled heavily between them, and Cullen froze, staring at her as if he’d misheard. “Never?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ariana met his eyes, her confidence unwavering, though there was a brief flicker of something softer—an almost bashful look that vanished as quickly as it had come. “Not after the Blight. Not after Kirkwall. Not… ever.”
Cullen’s heart lurched, the weight of her confession slamming into him with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for. He searched her face for any sign of jest or embellishment but found only the unflinching truth in her eyes. “You mean…” He hesitated, the enormity of what she was saying rendering him momentarily speechless. “I was your first?” His voice softened, almost disbelieving. “And… your only?”
Ariana cleared her throat as a faint blush crept on her cheeks, her voice steady but quiet. “Well… when you put it that way…”
He swallowed hard, his breath uneven as her words sank in. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her—it was that he couldn’t quite grasp the depth of what it meant. All this time, through years of separation, through everything she’d endured… she’d held onto him. To them.
“I… Maker’s breath, Ari,” he murmured, his hand lifting to brush against her cheek. “I didn’t… I never imagined…”
“For a long time,” Ariana continued, her gaze not leaving his, “I didn’t fully understand what you meant to me. Or maybe I didn’t let myself.” She paused, her words faltering for the first time. Her eyes flickered down briefly, her fingers brushing against his hand as if grounding herself. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter but steady. “I think I was afraid to realize it. Afraid of how much you meant. But… no matter where I went or who I met… no one was ever you.”
Cullen’s grip on her hand tightened, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions—gratitude, guilt, awe. “Ari,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “I never… I didn’t realize.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile, bittersweet but unwavering. “I didn’t expect you to. But it’s true. It’s always been you, Cullen. No matter how much time or distance or chaos came between us, that never changed.”
Cullen felt a lump rise in his throat, his free hand running through his hair as he tried to process the magnitude of her words. He had spent so long believing himself unworthy—of her, of love, of peace. And now, here she was, laying bare the depth of her devotion. It was almost too much to bear.
“You’ve given me more than I deserve,” he said finally, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know how I can ever live up to that.”
Ariana’s fingers brushed against his cheek, her touch light but grounding. “There’s nothing for you to live up to, Cullen. You just have to be you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He closed his eyes briefly, leaning into her touch as her words settled over him. When he looked at her again, his gaze was warm but intense, as though truly seeing her for the first time. “I… Maker, I love you, Ariana.”
Her smile widened, her eyes shining with a warmth that eased the ache in his chest. “I love you too.”
Cullen let out a shaky breath, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. For a long moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of her confession settling between them like a quiet promise. He hadn’t fully understood what he meant to her before, but now, the truth was clear. He wasn’t just her Commander, or her fiancée, or even the man she loved. He was her first, her only—and he would be her last.
“I don’t know how you endured so much on your own,” Cullen murmured, his voice soft as he held her close.
Ariana leaned her head against his chest, her voice quiet but resolute. “I wasn’t alone. Not really. You were always with me, Cullen. Even when you weren’t.”
And for the first time, Cullen truly understood: she wasn’t just his anchor—he was hers.
~~~
After leaving the war room, Cullen had gone off to yell at more soldiers and recruits—or so Ariana imagined. She loved that man, but she wasn’t sure he could be truly happy unless he was ordering people around, albeit lovingly. She knew all too well that Cullen cared for his people as deeply as she cared for hers.
Her path took her to the room Solas had claimed as his own, where his half-finished murals adorned the walls. She hadn’t seen much of him in recent weeks, and, truthfully, she had missed their conversations. There was something captivating about the way Solas spoke of the Fade, of spirits and the vast mysteries of the world. It pulled at the same part of her that had once dreamed of exploration and discovery.
She found him at his desk, leafing through tomes filled with writings she doubted anyone else in Skyhold could decipher. “Solas, am I interrupting?” she asked tentatively.
He turned, offering that familiar, soft smile. “Not at all, Inquisitor.”
Ariana rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, not you too. Just call me Ariana. Or Wolf, if you prefer.”
“Wolf?” Solas quirked an eyebrow, though his tone made it seem as if he were testing the word rather than questioning it. “Very well, Wolf.”
She couldn’t quite discern the flicker of satisfaction in his expression, but she chose not to press. Instead, she leaned casually against the doorframe. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me before—about your studies, your travels. If you have time, I’d like to hear more.”
Solas studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if measuring her sincerity. “You continue to surprise me,” he said finally. “Very well. Let us talk… though perhaps somewhere more interesting than this.”
Without another word, he gestured toward a small sitting area on the opposite side of the room. Ariana followed him, curious but uncertain. When they sat, Solas turned to her with a piercing, almost curious look. “Do you trust me?” he asked suddenly.
The question gave her pause. But she nodded after a moment, her voice soft. “I do.”
Solas smiled faintly. “Then close your eyes.”
She tilted her head but complied, her curiosity outweighing her caution. The room fell into silence as she closed her eyes, her breathing slowing. For a moment, she felt the faint pull of magic—familiar but subtle. Then everything faded.
When Ariana opened her eyes, she was standing in Haven.
The realization struck her like a splash of cold water. The Breach hung in the sky, jagged and glowing, its edges pulsing faintly with ominous energy. Her eyes darted to the mountains, and her stomach tightened. There was no sign of the avalanche, no debris or destruction. Everything was as it had been before…
Before I closed the Breach, she thought, her pulse quickening. “Solas?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended. “What is this?”
“It is Haven, as you remember it,” Solas replied, appearing at her side. His tone was calm, almost amused. “A place that is deeply tied to you.”
Ariana frowned, her brow furrowing. “But that’s impossible. The Breach—”
“Where do you think we are, Wolf?” Solas interrupted gently, his gaze steady.
Her breath caught as understanding dawned. “This… isn’t real,” she whispered.
Solas inclined his head. “That is a matter of perspective, but yes. We are in the Fade.”
The Fade. The word sent a shiver down her spine, though not from fear. She turned slowly, taking in her surroundings. The flickering edges of the buildings, the faint hum of energy in the air—it was both familiar and otherworldly. Her lips parted slightly as wonder overtook her. “It’s… beautiful,” she murmured.
Solas watched her, his expression unreadable. “Most mortals find the Fade unsettling,” he remarked. “Few describe it as you just did.”
Ariana turned to him, her eyes bright with curiosity. “How could anyone not be fascinated by this?”
Solas smiled faintly but didn’t respond. Instead, he gestured toward one of the houses. She followed him inside, where a small bed sat in the center of the room. “I sat beside you here while you slept, studying the Anchor,” he said, his voice quieter now.
“And keeping me alive, from what I hear,” Ariana added with a small smile. “How long did it take to study the mark on my hand?”
“A magical mark of unknown origin, tied to a unique breach in the Veil?” Solas’ voice carried an edge of excitement. “Longer than you might think. I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade for answers… and found nothing.”
“Nothing?” Ariana asked, tilting her head. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
Solas chuckled softly. “Cassandra certainly didn’t think so. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn’t produce results.”
Ariana laughed, shaking her head. “She does that with everyone. She threatened to kill me when I woke up.”
“Did she?” Solas quirked an eyebrow. “Yes, that does sound like her.”
He continued, his tone growing more reflective. “You were never going to wake up. How could you? A mortal sent physically through the Fade? I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach. I was ready to flee.”
Ariana blinked. “Flee? But… the Breach threatened the whole world. Where would you have gone?”
“Someplace far away,” Solas said with a shrug, though there was a faint trace of self-deprecation in his voice. “Where I might research a way to repair the Breach before its effects reached me. I never said it was a good plan.”
“Well, I’m glad you stayed,” Ariana said sincerely. “Even if your plan wasn’t great.”
“As am I,” Solas replied, his voice softening. “You hold the key to our salvation, Wolf. When I saw you seal the rift, I felt the whole world change.”
“Felt the whole world change?” she asked surprised at his reaction.
Solas smiled softly at her “You had walked in the Fade. I have explored the Fade more than anyone alive, but even I can only visit in dreams. But you… you might have been able to visit me here while awake.”
Before Ariana could respond, Solas continued. “But that’s probably best discussed after you wake up.” Then the world around her began to blur, the edges dissolving into light.
She woke with a start, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. The room was dark, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, she sat still, her thoughts racing. The Fade… she had been there. Fully conscious. Awake.
“That was incredible,” she whispered to herself, a small, exhilarated smile breaking across her face.
~~~
Cullen was getting tired. He had been staring at reports for hours, and they never seemed to end. Maybe Ariana was right—maybe he did need to get some rest. He found himself reading the same lines over and over before the words registered.
“Commander!” A soldier burst into his office without knocking.
“What?” Cullen barked, already irritated by the interruption.
“The Inquisitor, ser,” the soldier began but faltered, clearly at a loss for words. The hesitation alone set Cullen on edge.
“The Inquisitor, what?” Cullen demanded, his voice rising. “Speak!”
The soldier’s eyes darted nervously. “She—well, they say she collapsed.”
“What?” Cullen froze for a heartbeat before striding toward the soldier, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “What do you mean she collapsed?”
Clearing his throat, the soldier stammered, “People… people are saying they saw Solas carrying her to her quarters. She was unconscious…”
Cullen didn’t wait to hear the rest. His stomach churned, and he bolted out of his office, leaving the soldier mid-sentence. His boots thundered against the stone floors as he sprinted through Skyhold’s main hall, barely registering the questioning glances from Leliana and Josephine as he passed. He didn’t care about the stares or whispers. All that mattered was Ariana.
He pushed the door to their quarters open with more force than intended and rushed up the stairs. His heart was pounding, but relief flooded him when he saw her sitting up on the bed. Her breaths were shallow and uneven, but she was awake. She turned to him, her hazel-green eyes meeting his, though something about her gaze seemed… distant.
“Cullen?” Ariana asked, her tone laced with confusion. “Is everything alright?”
He rushed to her side, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Ari, what do you mean? That’s what I came to ask you,” he said, his voice tight with concern. “Are you alright?”
“I… yes, why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, tilting her head as if the question confused her.
“Ari, Maker’s breath—do you even know how you got here?” he pressed.
She blinked, glancing around the room before her eyes returned to his. There was a flicker of something—uncertainty, perhaps—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “I… no… I was talking to Solas…” Her words trailed off, but then she smiled, her expression softening into something almost dreamlike.
Cullen’s stomach twisted. “Ari, what happened?” he asked, his tone urgent but careful.
“It was incredible, Cullen,” she said, her voice light and breathless with awe. The exhilaration in her tone was undeniable, but so was the uneven cadence of her breathing. Her chest rose and fell quickly, as though the memory itself had left her winded.
“What was?” Cullen asked, his concern deepening.
“The Fade,” she said, the wonder in her voice making the words feel heavier. “It was… we were in Haven. The Breach was still in the sky. I could see it, explore it. I can remember it…” Her hands gestured faintly as if trying to describe something too vast for words.
Cullen’s blood ran cold. “The Fade?” he echoed, his voice dropping into a sharp whisper. “Ari, what are you saying? You’re not a mage—you can’t just… walk the Fade.”
“I didn’t, not by myself,” Ariana said quickly, shaking her head. “Solas was there.”
Cullen’s jaw tightened, his hand moving to grasp hers. “Solas?” he repeated, his voice strained. “Ari, you don’t understand the danger you were in. The Fade isn’t safe—not for anyone, least of all someone without training.”
Ariana frowned, pulling her hand back slightly, her earlier dazed smile fading for only a moment. “I wasn’t alone,” she said firmly. “I trust Solas. He wouldn’t have let anything happen to me.”
Cullen stood abruptly, pacing to the other side of the room as his frustration bubbled over. “Ari, do you even hear yourself? You put your trust—your life—in the hands of a man who spends half his time defending demons and the other half spouting theories no one can understand!”
“Not demons. Spirits,” Ariana corrected, her voice rising slightly. “He’s—he’s seen so much. Everything he’s told me, everything he’s shown me—it’s all been…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Eye-opening.”
Cullen turned to face her, his expression a mix of anger and worry. “How was this even possible, Ari?” he asked, his voice low but intense.
“Solas thinks it’s because of the mark,” she admitted, her tone softening. “He believes it’s tied to more than just sealing rifts. That it might allow me to interact with the Fade in ways no one else can.”
Cullen’s shoulders stiffened, his mind racing. “Ari, do you have any idea how dangerous that is? The mark—it’s already unpredictable. And now you’re telling me it might be making you more vulnerable to the Fade?” He shook his head, his frustration giving way to fear. “This isn’t safe. None of it is.”
Ariana hesitated for only a moment before leaning forward, reaching for him with both hands. Her fingers brushed his as her hazel-green eyes locked onto his, still shining with unrelenting excitement. “Cullen, you don’t understand,” she said, her voice tinged with awe. “It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. The Fade—it was beautiful. I could feel it, touch it, be in it. It wasn’t like a dream—it was real. It was alive.”
Her words stopped him cold. Her hands tightened over his, as though grounding herself in the memory, her breaths shallow but quickened with exhilaration.
“Ari…” Cullen’s voice cracked, his fear and frustration bubbling over. “Do you even hear yourself? This—this isn’t normal. It isn’t safe. And the fact that you can’t see that…” He stopped, his jaw tightening.
“I felt safe, Cullen,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “Solas was with me. It wasn’t reckless—it was…” She trailed off, a wistful smile curving her lips.
Cullen stared at her, helpless against the gulf forming between them. She was here in front of him, but part of her was still in the Fade. He could see it in the distant gleam of her eyes, the way her breaths remained uneven, and the faint shimmer of the mark on her hand as it caught the light.
“You’re not back yet,” he said finally, his voice quiet and strained. “Not fully.”
Her brow furrowed faintly, confusion flickering in her gaze before she shook her head. “I am. I promise.” She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Cullen let out a slow breath, his hand moving to cup hers gently. “Ari, you need to rest. Just… stay here. Let me take care of you.”
Ariana tilted her head, her expression softening. “You always do,” she murmured.
“Always,” Cullen said, his voice steady but heavy with unspoken worry. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her to rest against him, even as his mind raced. Whatever she had seen in the Fade… it wasn’t finished with her. And neither, it seemed, was Solas.