22 Bloomingtide – 26 Justinian 9:35
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint scent of wood smoke as Ariana stirred a pot of stew on the stove. The morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen’s small windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Michael sat at the worn wooden table, his expression contemplative as he nursed a cup of coffee.
“You’re sure Isabel knows everything?” Michael asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
Ariana turned, meeting his gaze with a soft nod. “She does. She knows everything there is to know,” she said quietly, setting the spoon down.
Michael leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching hers. “And Cullen? Does he know?”
The question hit harder than she expected, and her hand faltered slightly as she reached for a cloth to wipe her hands. She glanced down, unable to meet his gaze. “No,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “He doesn’t.”
Michael frowned, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Why not? You trust him, don’t you?”
“Of course I trust him,” Ariana replied quickly, looking up at him with a flicker of guilt in her hazel eyes. “But trusting him doesn’t mean he’s ready for this. Cullen…” She trailed off, her gaze drifting toward the window. “He’s devoted to the Order, Michael. Even if he questions Meredith, that’s not the same as questioning the entire structure.”
Michael nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. “You’re not wrong,” he said after a moment. “Based on what I’ve seen, I don’t think he’d ever turn you in. But asking him to keep this secret? To live with it? It might break him.”
A soft clinking of porcelain interrupted the conversation as Isabel stepped into the room, carrying a tray of fresh bread and butter. She placed it on the table and looked between the siblings, her green eyes sharp with curiosity.
“Do you really believe that?” Isabel asked, her voice calm but tinged with disappointment.
Michael nodded, his expression firm. “I do. Cullen’s a good man, but his sense of duty is ingrained. If Ariana tells him, he’ll be torn apart. He’s not ready for that.”
Isabel’s lips pressed into a thin line as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “Then what’s the endgame here?” she asked pointedly, her gaze shifting to Ariana. “You love him, don’t you?”
“More than anything,” Ariana replied instantly, her voice breaking slightly as she sat down across from Michael. “But if I love him, I can’t put him in this position. I won’t.”
The words hung heavily in the air, and Ariana’s hands clenched around the edge of the table. She could feel the weight of Michael’s eyes on her, and when she finally looked up, her voice wavered. “I’ve seen what the Order’s done to him, Michael. Every day, he walks a knife’s edge trying to do what’s right. If I tell him the truth… it could push him over.”
Michael sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s not wrong, Ari. You’re going to lose him when he finds out. And it’s not if, it’s when. Secrets like this…” He gestured vaguely. “They don’t stay hidden forever.”
Ariana closed her eyes, her hands curling into fists on the table. “I know,” she whispered. “But every time I think about telling him, I can’t do it. He’s already under so much pressure. And if this breaks him…”
“Then you’ve already lost him,” Isabel interjected, her tone blunt but not unkind. “You can’t protect him from this forever, child. And if you try, it’ll only hurt more when the truth comes out.”
Michael reached across the table, his hand resting lightly on hers. “Ari, I’m not saying you should tell him now. But you need to be ready for when it happens. Because it will.”
Ariana opened her eyes, meeting her brother’s gaze. “I don’t know how to prepare for that,” she admitted softly. “I don’t know how to let him go.”
Michael’s grip on her hand tightened briefly before he let go. He stood slowly, moving to sit beside her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a gentle embrace. “Then don’t let him go,” he said quietly. “But don’t fool yourself into thinking you can have this life and keep him in the dark forever. You’re running out of time.”
Ariana leaned into him, closing her eyes as her carefully constructed walls began to crack. “I hate that you’re right,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “I wish there was another way.”
Michael rested his chin on the top of her head, his tone soft but resolute. “I know,” he said simply. “But whatever happens, you’re not alone in this, Ari. You’ve got me, and you’ve got Isabel.”
Isabel straightened, her expression softening slightly as she walked over and rested a hand on Ariana’s shoulder. “And for what it’s worth, child, we’ll face it together. No matter what.”
The quiet returned to the kitchen, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire and the distant murmur of Kirkwall outside. Michael stayed beside her, his arm a steadying presence, silently offering the support she didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath for.
For now, the conversation was over, but the unspoken truths lingered, waiting for the moment they could no longer be ignored.
~~~
The weeks that followed had been a blur of activity. Michael’s involvement with the Rangers had proven invaluable, allowing them to intercept more mage transports and save those doomed to the Rite of Tranquility. Yet, despite their growing successes, Ariana felt the weight of Kirkwall’s despair more acutely than ever. For every mage they saved, it seemed another was taken.
Ariana’s lies felt heavier, too, each report Cullen brought her another thread in the web she was weaving. Their evenings in the library, once a source of comfort, now left her feeling trapped. Cullen no longer questioned her motives or her insights. Instead, he trusted her implicitly—and that trust tore at her.
This evening, the fire crackled softly as Cullen sat across from her, a report in hand. His brow was furrowed in concentration, the tension in his shoulders unmistakable. Setting the parchment on the table, he exhaled heavily.
“This isn’t sustainable,” Cullen said, placing the report on the table with a quiet thud. His voice was steady but tinged with frustration. “Another transport intercepted. No casualties again, but the guards are convinced there’s inside help.”
Ariana leaned back, carefully masking the flutter of panic that rose in her chest. “Inside help? From the Gallows? Do you think there’s any truth to it?”
Cullen nodded, his expression dark. “It’s possible. Meredith has been… escalating. She’s convinced this is a rebellion. A threat to the entire Order.”
“And you?” Ariana asked, her tone steady, though her pulse quickened. “Is that what you believe?”
Cullen hesitated, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. “No,” he admitted. “It doesn’t feel like rebellion. It feels like survival. Desperation. Mages who see no other way.”
Ariana studied him for a moment, carefully hiding the relief that threatened to show in her expression. “So, you think they’re just trying to escape the Circles? Not seeking to overthrow the Templar Order?”
Cullen frowned, considering her question. “Most likely. But it also points to something deeper.” He leaned forward, his voice quieter, more introspective. “What does it say about the state of the Gallows, of the Circles in general, if mages are willing to risk everything to get out? This isn’t just fear—it’s… hopelessness.”
“You’re questioning more than just Meredith,” she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet edge. “You’re questioning the very foundation of the Order?”
Cullen’s hazel eyes met hers, shadowed with doubt. “How could I not? I see the fear in the mages’ eyes every day. I hear the whispers among the Templars—those who’ve lost faith in Meredith, in everything we’re meant to stand for.” He exhaled slowly, his voice growing quieter. “Some of them have asked if I’d consider taking over as Knight-Commander.”
Ariana blinked, her breath catching. She had told him before that it was within his power to do that. She didn’t realize others were also looking to him that way. “And what did you say?”
Cullen hesitated, glancing down at the table. “I didn’t give them an answer,” he admitted. “How could I? I’m… not a leader, Ariana. I’m a soldier. I’ve always been a soldier. Taking that role… it’s not who I am.” He shook his head slightly, frustration creeping into his tone. “Even if I wanted to, it’s not as simple as replacing Meredith. There’s too much broken. Too much beyond repair.”
Ariana leaned forward, her voice steady but firm. “Maybe you can’t fix everything, Cullen. But you could lead the Gallows. You could make it a place where mages don’t feel like prisoners, where they’re treated with dignity. If people are coming to you, asking you to take over as Knight-Commander, it’s because they see that in you.”
Cullen frowned, his gaze dropping to the table. “I don’t know if I can lead,” he admitted, his voice low. “I’m not like Meredith. I don’t command respect through fear, and I’m not sure I know how to command it at all. I’m a soldier, Ariana. That’s what I’ve always been.” He looked up, his hazel eyes shadowed. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“That’s precisely what makes you a good leader, Cullen,” Ariana began as she reached across the table placing a hand on his “Commanding respect through fear is the recourse of those too weak to command true respect or loyalty. A leader doesn’t have to have all the answers, they just need to trust in the people they lead.”
Cullen hesitated, glancing down at her hand. “Even if I were, Meredith is still the Knight-Commander. Acting against her would require undeniable proof—something the Order’s leadership couldn’t ignore. And so long as she has the support of the Grand Cleric, there is little I can do.” He looked up, his hazel eyes meeting hers. “But the fact that they came to me at all… it weighs heavily.”
Ariana’s chest tightened at the vulnerability in his voice. “You don’t have to do it alone,” she said softly, reaching out to place a hand over his. “The people asking you to step up—they’ll support you. Michael would support you. And I will, too. You’re stronger than you think, Cullen. You care. That’s what makes you different. That’s what makes you the right person.”
Cullen’s lips quirked into a faint, self-deprecating smile. “You have more faith in me than I do.”
Ariana’s voice softened, but her conviction didn’t waver. “Because I know you, Cullen. I see the man who questions when others remain silent, the man who doesn’t look away from the pain around him. You’ve already been leading in your own way.”
Cullen stared at her for a long moment, his fingers tightening around hers. “You make it sound so simple,” he said, his voice tinged with both gratitude and doubt.
“No, leadership isn’t simple,” Ariana admitted. “But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”
Cullen exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “You make it sound like I can change things,” he murmured.
“You can,” Ariana replied firmly. “Maybe not the entire Order by yourself, but enough to make a difference. And that’s worth trying for.”
The room fell into a contemplative silence, the crackling fire the only sound between them. Cullen reached up, brushing his fingers gently along her cheek. “I don’t deserve you,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet emotion.
Ariana’s heart twisted painfully at the words, knowing the truth she was keeping from him. She leaned into his touch, her hand covering his. “You deserve more than I can ever give,” she whispered, her voice tinged with both love and regret.
Cullen leaned forward, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. The warmth of the moment contrasted sharply with the weight of the unspoken truths between them, and when they finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers.
“I should go,” he said quietly, his voice reluctant. “Meredith will have questions if I’m gone too long.”
Ariana nodded, her fingers brushing his as he pulled away. “Be safe,” she murmured, watching him rise and gather his things.
As he turned to leave, Cullen hesitated in the doorway, his gaze lingering on her as if trying to commit her to memory. “Thank you, Ari,” he said softly. “For… everything.” With a soft sigh, he turned and left the library, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall.
She wanted to call him back, to tell him the truth, but the weight of her resolve kept her from speaking.
As the silence settled around her, Ariana leaned back in her chair, her hands trembling slightly. He trusts me so completely, she thought, the ache in her chest growing sharper. And I’m lying to him every single day.
The White Wolf couldn’t stay hidden forever, and the time was coming when all her secrets would shatter the fragile peace they’d built. But for now, she sat alone in the flickering firelight, holding on to the moment before it slipped away entirely.
~~~
The warehouse was quiet, save for the faint creak of wooden beams and the occasional scuffle of boots on stone. Michael stepped inside, his eyes adjusting quickly to the dim light filtering through the slatted windows. Linnea was already there, leaning against a table covered in maps, reports, and coded messages. She glanced up as he entered, her sharp eyes assessing him with the precision of a blade.
“Right on time,” she said, her tone neutral but not unfriendly. “Starting to think we can set the clocks by you.”
Michael gave a small smile, his hands clasped behind his back. “I figured punctuality is appreciated in your line of work.”
“It is,” Linnea replied, her lips twitching in what might have been a faint grin. “Especially when it comes with useful information.”
Michael approached the table, his expression growing serious. “I’ve been listening,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Meredith’s focus is… relentless. She’s still pushing hard for answers about the intercepted transports. She suspects inside help, but there’s no clear evidence yet. That said…” He paused, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a folded parchment. “There’s another transport scheduled in three days. Two mages, both young, likely under heavy guard.”
Linnea took the parchment, her eyes scanning the details quickly. She nodded, her demeanor businesslike. “Good work,” she said, folding the parchment neatly and tucking it into her own bag. “We’ll be ready.”
Michael hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. “It’s… worse than I thought,” he admitted. “The punishments in the Gallows are growing harsher. Minor infractions—barely anything at all—are being met with solitary confinement or worse. And the mages know it. The fear is palpable. It’s not just Meredith, either. Some of the other Templars are following her lead, adopting her methods.”
Linnea leaned back against the table, her arms crossing as she studied him. “And you?” she asked, her tone probing. “How do you feel about all of this?”
Michael exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It’s wrong,” he said simply. “Every day, I see mages who’ve done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment—children, even. They’re not dangerous. They’re scared. But Meredith… she doesn’t care. She sees them all as threats, as weapons waiting to be unleashed. And the worst part is…” His voice faltered, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “She’s creating the very thing she fears. The more she pushes, the more desperate they become.”
Linnea’s gaze softened slightly, though her tone remained steady. “Desperation breeds mistakes. And mistakes cost lives.”
“I know,” Michael replied, his voice heavy with guilt. “That’s why I’m here. If I can help even a few of them escape… if I can make some kind of difference…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t know if it’s enough, but it’s all I can do.”
Linnea stepped closer, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. “You’re doing more than most, Michael,” she said sincerely. “More than some of us expected, honestly.”
Michael looked at her, his expression a mixture of gratitude and determination. “I just… I want to make this right. I’ve spent too long standing by, following orders without question. I can’t do that anymore.”
Linnea nodded, her respect for him evident in her eyes. “And you won’t have to,” she said firmly. “You’re not in this alone, Michael. We’re in this together. The Rangers don’t forget their own.”
Her words seemed to steady him, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For trusting me.”
Linnea smirked, her usual edge softening as she added, “But if you’re going to thank someone, thank Wolf. She’s the one who thought you were worth trusting.”
Michael blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Ariana?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Linnea tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “She saw something in you. Said you had potential, that you cared enough to do the right thing even if it’s hard. Not everyone gets that kind of faith from her.”
Michael’s throat tightened, and he looked away for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. Ariana believed in me? After everything I put her through? Memories surfaced—of the way he dragged her into a holding cell while pleading with him. He had thought he was doing what was right, but now he saw how blind he had been. How much he’d failed to understand her.
“She had every reason not to trust me,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. “I tried to drag her back to a life she never wanted. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “The fact that she didn’t hold that against me… that she gave me another chance…” He trailed off, his voice faltering.
Linnea’s gaze remained steady, her tone softening. “Wolf’s not one to waste time on people who don’t deserve it,” she said firmly. “She saw something in you, and so do I. You’ve proven yourself, Michael. You’re not just here because of her. You’re here because you earned it.”
Michael’s jaw tightened, a flicker of determination in his eyes as he met Linnea’s gaze. “I won’t let her down. I won’t let any of you down.”
Linnea nodded approvingly, her sharp eyes flicking to the map on the table. “Good. Let’s make sure you don’t.”
She leaned forward, her fingers brushing over the marked routes. “This transport’s going through the usual checkpoints, but I’ve been hearing whispers they might add an extra guard detail after the last ambush,” she said. “We’ll need to scout the route ahead of time. I’m thinking two teams—one to create a diversion, the other to hit the wagon directly.”
Michael frowned, studying the map. “What kind of diversion?”
Linnea tapped her finger on a narrow choke point. “Here. If we can set up a rockfall or block the road somehow, it’ll force the wagon to slow down. That’s when we hit them. But we’ll need precision—no wasted time, no room for error.”
Michael nodded, his mind already working through the logistics. “I’ll take the diversion team. We’ll draw them away long enough for you to secure the mages.”
Linnea smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement. “That’s usually Wolf’s job,” she remarked, crossing her arms. “Charging headfirst into danger, pulling the heat off the rest of us.”
Michael blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Wolf does that?” he asked, his tone tinged with both surprise and curiosity. “I thought she—”
“Stayed in the shadows?” Linnea interrupted, her smirk widening. “Not always. When it counts, she’s the first to step up. She’d never ask anyone to do something she wouldn’t do herself.”
Michael’s expression shifted, a flicker of flattered disbelief crossing his face. “You think I’m like her?”
Linnea shrugged, her gaze appraising. “You’ve got the same stubborn streak. And the same knack for throwing yourself into danger to protect others.”
Michael let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or worried.”
“Take it as a compliment,” Linnea replied, her tone light but sincere. “Wolf doesn’t hand out trust easily. If you’re taking her spot on this, it means you’ve earned it.”
Michael’s surprise deepened, but so did his resolve. “I’ll do my best to live up to that,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.
Linnea’s smirk softened into a small, approving smile. “Good. Valentina and Lamberto will go with you. You’ve got this.”
Michael nodded, his chest tightening with a mixture of pride and pressure. If Ariana—Wolf—believed in him enough to take this role, he wouldn’t let her down.
~~~
The sharp tang of salt hung in the dry heat of the Wounded Coast as Ariana adjusted her gloves, her eyes scanning the jagged cliffs and rocky outcroppings. Every step brought them closer to the faint clash of steel and the desperate cries carried on the wind.
“You sure this is the spot?” Varric asked, his crossbow slung lazily over his shoulder.
Hawke flashed a grin, her twin daggers catching the sun. “Would I lie to you, Varric?”
Varric raised an eyebrow. “Considering how many of your plans end with me running for my life, I’m reserving judgment.”
Ariana smirked, falling into step beside them. “He has a point,” she said, her tone light. “Your leads tend to be… colorful.”
Hawke placed a hand over her heart, mock wounded. “You wound me, both of you. My leads are impeccable.” She motioned dramatically to the desolate landscape. “Look at this thriving hotbed of opportunity.”
Varric gestured toward the barren cliffs. “If this place is a hotbed, I’ll take the flower smugglers any day.”
Ariana chuckled, her lips twitching with genuine amusement. “Do people even smuggle flowers? What’s the going rate on black-market daisies?”
“That’s classified,” Varric quipped. “But let’s just say the rose racket is cutthroat.”
Hawke shook her head, laughing softly. “Focus, people. We’ve got slavers to deal with.” She nodded toward the camp now visible ahead, tattered banners fluttering in the breeze.
Ariana’s grin faded slightly as she took in the cages and the shadowy figures patrolling the area. “Alright,” she said, drawing her daggers. “Time to ruin their day.”
The fight was quick and decisive. Hawke’s blades flashed as she weaved through the slavers, while Varric’s bolts hit their marks with deadly precision. Ariana moved with practiced ease, her daggers finding the gaps in armor with every strike.
When the last slaver fell, Ariana paused to clean her blades, her gaze shifting to the cages. Hawke had already begun breaking the locks, her movements quick but careful. The captives emerged slowly, their eyes wide with fear and disbelief.
Ariana stepped forward, offering quiet reassurances to the freed captives. Her attention, however, was drawn to a trio lingering near the back of the group. They clutched tightly to each other, their expressions wary but determined. Their Circle robes catching her attention.
“Mages,” Ariana murmured, her tone thoughtful.
Hawke glanced over, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Your specialty,” she teased.
Ariana gave her a look but couldn’t hold back a faint smile. “Guess I’ll take this one.”
She approached the trio, her voice calm and steady. “You’re safe now. We’ll get you somewhere secure.”
The tallest of the group, a young man with sharp features, narrowed his eyes. “And why should we trust you?”
“Because the alternative is staying here,” Ariana said smoothly, her tone light but firm. “And I’d wager that’s not looking like a good option. But I can help you.”
The oldest, a man with haunted eyes, stepped forward. “Help us how?” he asked, suspicion thick in his voice. “Are you taking us to the Gallows?”
“No,” Ariana said firmly. “I swear to you, that’s not where you’re going. We have a place where you’ll be safe, but you have to trust us.”
The man hesitated before nodding. “Alright. Lead the way.”
As the group made their way back up the coast, the sun dipping lower in the sky, Ariana fell into step beside Varric and Hawke. The tension that had gripped her earlier began to ease, though the weight of her thoughts lingered in the back of her mind.
“So,” Ariana asked after a while, her voice casual, “what’s the plan if flower smugglers are a thing? Do we go full undercover? Code names and everything?”
Varric grinned, clearly pleased she was playing along. “Absolutely. I call dibs on Black Lotus.”
Hawke laughed, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Bold choice, but I think Ariana here would make a great Lady Lavender.”
Ariana snorted. “Sounds like the name of a tea blend.” She glanced over at Hawke, her smirk returning. “You’d be Thorn, obviously. Can’t have a team without a little edge.”
Hawke chuckled, nudging her with an elbow. “I like it. Thorn and the Black Lotus. Sounds like a story Varric would write.”
Varric nodded sagely. “I’m filing that one away for later.”
Their banter carried them through the rocky terrain, providing a welcome distraction from the heavier thoughts weighing on Ariana’s mind. She still couldn’t shake the guilt of lying to Cullen, of keeping so much hidden from him. But for now, she let herself be drawn into the warmth of her friends’ camaraderie.
When they finally reached the safe house, Ariana felt a flicker of relief as the mages were ushered inside. The mission was a success, but the ache in her chest remained—a reminder of the truths she carried and the fragile peace she was trying to protect.
Varric clapped her on the shoulder as they headed back toward Kirkwall. “Cheer up, Pup. You saved lives today. That’s worth a smile, at least.”
Ariana gave him a sidelong glance, her smirk softening into something more genuine. “Alright, Black Lotus. You’ve earned it.”
Hawke laughed, throwing an arm around Ariana’s shoulders. “There’s the Wolf we know. Let’s get back and celebrate properly. Drinks on me.”
Ariana allowed herself to laugh, the weight on her shoulders lightening, if only for a moment. For now, she would hold onto these small victories and the people who kept her grounded, even as the storm of her secrets loomed ever closer.
~~~
Ariana lay on the cool grass of the courtyard, her eyes tracing the constellations above. The night sky offered a fleeting sense of peace, the quiet hum of the city distant but ever-present. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the stillness settle over her, but the sound of approaching footsteps brought a smile to her lips. She didn’t need to look to know it was him.
“I was waiting for you,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that belied the turmoil in her heart.
Cullen’s chuckle reached her ears, low and familiar. “Were you now?”
“I was.” She turned her head to see him, her smile widening. “Come sit with me?”
He smiled, the tension of the day easing from his features as he walked over and stretched out beside her on the grass. “Looking for answers again?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity—and maybe concern.
“Always,” she replied simply, reaching for his hand without hesitation.
“Is it still the same question?” Cullen asked after a moment, though his voice was quieter now, tinged with something deeper. “Are you thinking of leaving Kirkwall?”
Her eyes snapped to his, surprise flickering across her face. “What?” She couldn’t help the smile that formed as she looked at him, brief flashes of a life they might share dancing in her mind. “Not unless you’re planning on coming with me,” she teased, leaning over to press a tender kiss to his lips, a silent reassurance of her love.
His smile softened, his gaze steady as he held hers. “I would love nothing more than that.”
Ariana’s heart skipped at his words. She knew it was just a dream, but for a moment, she let herself linger in the fantasy. “We could run away, you know?” she said, her tone light, though a flicker of hope betrayed her. “We could go back to Ferelden. Live a life away from it all. I have some experience with the whole running away thing,” she teased.
For a fleeting second, she dared to imagine it—waking up to him every morning, free of secrets and lies. Some part of her hoped, prayed, that he would say yes right now. She could leave the work here to Riley, they could leave, be free from it all. But his smile faded quickly, and her heart sank as reality reasserted itself.
“I can’t leave, Ari,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with regret. “But I don’t want to be the one holding you back.” He sighed, his brow furrowing. “If leaving would make you happy, I won’t stop you.”
Ariana turned away, blinking rapidly as tears stung her eyes. She hated how easily they came, how the weight of his words pressed against her chest. Did he really believe she wasn’t happy with him? Had she been so distant, so tangled in her own conflicts, that she made him feel that way?
Cullen’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on the stars as if seeking answers from them. “A few months ago,” he began, his voice quieter now, “when you told me you weren’t sure who you were anymore. That you felt lost here…” He paused, his hazel eyes meeting hers. “I keep thinking about that. Wondering if… if I’m part of the reason you feel that way.”
Her breath caught, and for a moment, she couldn’t find the words. “Cullen,” she began, her voice almost breaking. “You’re not—”
He shook his head, cutting her off gently. “I don’t need reassurance, Ariana. I need honesty. Am I enough to make you happy? Or am I just… holding you back?”
The vulnerability in his voice was like a dagger to her heart. She turned to face him fully, placing her hand over his chest. “Cullen, stop. I didn’t spend years looking for you to just leave. Do you even understand how much I love you? What I endured to find you?” her voice broke slightly. She wasn’t intending to blame him, but she needed him to understand that this—what there was between them—wasn’t something you easily give up.
“You make me happy, and yes, I would love to run away with you. To get away from the darkness of this place, but” she said firmly, though the weight of her unspoken truths lingered heavily. “I love you more than anything, and I will stay by your side wherever you are and wherever you go. You are my home.”
Ariana swallowed hard, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She hadn’t expected to feel so raw, so exposed, but she refused to let him misunderstand her heart.
Cullen held her gaze as if searching for the truth of her words, a flicker of pain and guilt in his expression. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch achingly tender. “Ari,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I never doubted your love. I just…” He trailed off, his brows drawing together. “I see the weight you carry, the way you look at Kirkwall as if it’s suffocating you. And I worry I’m part of that weight.”
“You’re not,” she said fiercely, sitting up to face him more fully. “This city, this life—it’s hard, yes. But it’s not you. You’re not holding me back. You’re the reason I’m still standing. Don’t you see that?”
His hazel eyes searched hers, the storm of doubt and love within him laid bare. “Then why do I feel like I’m failing you?” he asked softly.
Ariana’s heart ached at his words, and the tears that she had been holding back finally betrayed her. She cupped his face gently, her thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “You’re not failing me, Cullen. I’m failing you.” Her voice wavered, the weight of her secrets pressing heavily on her chest. “I’m sorry that I’ve let you believe that this life isn’t enough. I’ve been so lost in my own thoughts that I failed to see what I was doing to you. But, Cullen…” she paused, searching for the right words, “I won’t lose you. Not to this city, not to Meredith, not to the Divin–“
Ariana stopped abruptly, gasping, her hand flying to cover her mouth. Cullen’s eyes widened immediately, and she could no longer hold his gaze. She sat up, looking away, her fingers trembling against her lips. It was a mistake—a slip of the tongue that carried the weight of every secret she’d buried. Cullen’s sharp inhale cut through the silence like a blade.
“The Divine?” Cullen asked, his voice low, filled with a mixture of shock and confusion. “Ariana, what does the Divine have to do with this?” He leaned forward, his hand gently but firmly wrapping around her wrist, pulling her hand away from her face. “Please… talk to me.”
Ariana’s heart raced, her mind scrambling for an escape. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, unable to meet his eyes. How could she have been so careless? The web of secrets she had so carefully woven now threatened to unravel entirely.
“I…” she began, her voice faltering, her throat tightening. She tried to form a coherent thought, but the weight of her emotions silenced her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she bit her lip to keep them at bay.
Cullen’s tone softened, though the urgency in it remained. “Ari, are you telling me… it was the Divine herself you met in Val Royeaux? That she asked you to reconsider your life, your engagement?”
Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise as she stared at him. Cullen’s expression was earnest, his gaze searching hers for confirmation. He had handed her a lie, ridiculous yet perfect in its simplicity, she almost couldn’t believe it. Maker, could it be this simple?
“I…” Ariana’s voice broke, her breath hitching as the tears finally spilled over. The words refused to come, the weight of the moment crushing her resolve. She was caught between her truths and the easy escape Cullen had unknowingly offered.
Cullen’s grip on her wrist tightened briefly before he shifted, cupping her face with both hands. “Ari,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “You’re telling me that you chose this life, chose us, even after the Divine herself intervened?”
The way he said it—the quiet awe in his voice, the disbelief mingled with reverence—broke her completely. The tears fell freely now, and she didn’t resist as Cullen pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me,” he murmured against her hair, his voice tinged with hurt. “But, Maker… I’m glad you chose to stay. That you chose me.”
Ariana’s breath hitched, her hands clutching at his tunic as her tears soaked into the fabric. She couldn’t bring herself to speak, couldn’t bring herself to shatter the fragile truth he’d constructed. Her silence felt like a betrayal, and yet, she clung to him desperately, as if he were her only tether.
Cullen pulled back slightly, brushing the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. His expression was a mix of worry and tenderness. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Ari,” he said softly. “Whatever doubts you’ve had, whatever brought you to that choice, I’m here. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”
This was the moment she’d feared and anticipated in equal measure. She had crossed the line, let him believe the one lie she could never undo. And yet, as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, she felt the weight of her guilt nearly crush her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his chest, her voice trembling. “I’m so sorry, Cullen.”
He kissed the top of her head, his voice soft but resolute. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Ari. You’ve given me more than I could ever deserve.”
As Cullen kissed the top of her head, murmuring reassurances that only deepened her guilt, Ariana’s mind raced. You’ve given me more than I could ever deserve, he had said. Yet every word felt like a fresh weight pressing down on her chest.
She thought of the countless nights she had spent weaving lies to protect him, to protect the Rangers. How every loving glance and gentle touch was a double-edged sword, cutting deeper as their bond grew stronger. And now, this—letting him believe that even the Divine herself had tested her, and she had still chosen him.
It should feel like love, she thought bitterly, but it feels like betrayal.
Her heart twisted as she clung to him, knowing she could never undo this moment. How could she tell him the truth now? That everything he believed about their love was built on foundations of omission and shadows?
Ariana swallowed hard, her tears subsiding, but the ache in her chest only grew. This lie will protect him, she told herself. But at what cost? How much longer could she hold their fragile world together before it shattered completely?
For now, she buried her fears deep, pressing her cheek against his chest. She let the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her, a fragile comfort in the storm she knew was coming.