1 – 4 Solace 9:41
Ariana awoke early, the room still draped in the soft gray light of dawn. Beside her, Cullen lay asleep, his breathing even, the lines of worry on his face softened in repose. At least he’s finally getting some rest, she thought with a faint smile, her heart warming at the sight. But her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the memory of the Fade. The Fade…
Her pulse quickened as she sat up, the exhilaration from the day before rushing back. She needed answers—no, more than answers. She needed to understand. Her feet hit the cold stone floor, and she dressed quietly, careful not to wake Cullen. Slipping out of their quarters, she made her way through the halls, her steps light despite the early hour.
When she reached Solas’s room, she paused briefly at the threshold. Before she could announce herself, his voice greeted her.
“Sleep well?” he asked without looking up from the tome in his hands.
Ariana blinked, caught off guard, before a smile spread across her face—a smile so wide it almost hurt, but she couldn’t help it. The memory of the Fade burned bright in her mind, too vivid and extraordinary to contain. “That was… amazing,” she said, stepping inside. “I’ve never done anything like that before. Do you regularly talk to people in their dreams?”
Solas closed the book, setting it aside with careful precision, before finally turning to face her. “No,” he said simply, his voice measured but carrying a hint of something more—respect, perhaps, or fascination. “Consider that one more rule you have effortlessly broken in your rise to power.”
“Rise to power seems dramatic,” Ariana quipped, her tone light despite the flutter of excitement in her chest.
Solas tilted his head slightly, his gaze keen. “And yet no less accurate.”
Her smile widened again, though she shifted her weight, brushing the moment aside. “Do you do this often? Visit dreams, I mean.”
Solas gave a faint shrug, his expression calm but contemplative. “Rarely. And even then, only with great caution. The mind is a sanctuary, Wolf. It is not a place one should tread lightly.” He stepped forward, his tone softening as he added, “Yet your experience… It is unlike anything I have encountered. I had no idea the Anchor would allow you to dream with such focus. It is… remarkable.”
Ariana’s breath hitched at his words, the awe in his voice resonating with her own sense of wonder. “You really think so?” she asked, a flicker of self-consciousness creeping into her voice.
“I do,” Solas replied without hesitation, his gaze steady. “But I am reasonably certain we are awake now. If you wish to discuss anything, I would enjoy talking.”
“As would I,” she said quickly, her words spilling out before she could second-guess herself. “Care to take a walk?”
He studied her for a moment, the corner of his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. “Lead the way, Wolf.”
Ariana felt her breath quicken again, an odd mixture of nerves and exhilaration washing over her. There was something about Solas that both unnerved and fascinated her. He was a puzzle—a keeper of secrets that felt tantalizingly close to being uncovered. She didn’t fully understand the pull she felt toward him, but she couldn’t deny it. It wasn’t personal, not in the way others might think. It was his knowledge, his insight. He could unlock truths she had only dreamed of.
As they stepped out into the cool morning air, Ariana turned toward the battlements, her heart racing as the anticipation of their conversation filled her with an almost childlike giddiness. “There’s so much I want to ask you,” she admitted as they walked. “About the Fade, about spirits, about what you’ve seen…”
Solas raised an eyebrow, a spark of amusement flickering across his face. “Then I hope you are prepared for long answers,” he said smoothly. “It is not a simple thing, to explain the mysteries of the Fade.”
“Good,” Ariana said, her eyes glinting with determination. “I’m not looking for simple.”
And as they walked, the sunrise casting golden light across Skyhold, Ariana felt the tug of adventure in her chest—an insatiable desire to know more, to learn, to explore the unknown. It was the same feeling she had chasing ruins or studying constellations, but magnified a thousandfold. For the first time, she felt as though she was truly stepping into the vastness of the world—and beyond.
~~~
The early morning air was crisp and bracing as Ariana leaned against the battlements, listening intently to Solas’s explanation of the nature of spirits and the intricacies of the Veil. His words were like puzzle pieces, and she couldn’t get enough of the way they seemed to fit together in her mind, opening pathways she hadn’t even realized existed.
“So, the Veil wasn’t always there?” she asked, her voice tinged with wonder.
“Precisely,” Solas replied, his tone patient and deliberate. “It was not always the barrier you perceive it as. The Fade and the physical world were once one and the same—a single, seamless existence. The Veil is… a wound, of sorts. A division imposed upon what was once whole.”
Ariana frowned slightly, considering his words. “And we just… accepted that division? That wound?”
“Not everyone accepted it,” Solas said cryptically, his gaze drifting out over the mountains as though seeing something far beyond them. “But that is a conversation for another time.”
Before she could press him further, the sound of footsteps approached, steady and purposeful. Ariana turned her head and saw Cullen striding toward her and Solas, his golden hair catching the morning light. There was an unmistakable tension in the set of his shoulders, in the way his jaw tightened as his eyes landed on her.
“Cullen,” Ariana greeted him with a bright smile, the excitement from her conversation still evident in her voice. “You’re up early.”
“You’re needed in the war room,” he said briskly, his tone clipped. He didn’t even glance at Solas, his focus entirely on her.
Ariana’s smile faltered slightly as she noticed the strain in his expression—the furrowed brow, the stiffness in his posture. “Alright,” she said, glancing briefly at Solas. “Thank you for the conversation. We’ll continue later?”
“Of course,” Solas replied, inclining his head. His voice was calm, but Ariana thought she caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes as Cullen turned on his heel and began walking away.
She followed Cullen silently, her excitement fading as the weight of his demeanor pressed down on her. His strides were longer than usual, his pace quicker, as though he were trying to put distance between her and Solas—or perhaps just her and the battlements. She tried to keep up, her thoughts swirling.
When they reached his office, Cullen opened the door and held it for her, his jaw tightening as he gestured for her to step inside. Once the door closed behind them, he turned to face her, his expression a mix of frustration and concern.
“Ariana,” he began, his voice low but firm. “I need you to understand something.”
Ariana crossed her arms, leaning slightly against his desk. “What is it, Cullen?”
He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a slow breath. “I don’t know how else to say this, so I’ll just say it: I’m not comfortable with your… relationship with Solas.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Relationship? Cullen, it’s not—”
“It’s not jealousy,” he interrupted, his voice sharp. “It’s about what happened yesterday, what I saw when I found you. You weren’t yourself, Ari. You weren’t even fully here. And then, this morning, I wake up and you’re gone—only to find you with him again.”
Ariana hesitated, caught off guard by the raw edge in his tone. “Cullen, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just… excited. What happened yesterday was extraordinary. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”
“That’s exactly what worries me,” Cullen said, stepping closer, his eyes searching hers. “You were so caught up in whatever you saw, whatever you felt, that you couldn’t even hear me. I tried to get through to you, to make you understand how dangerous it was, and you—” He broke off, exhaling sharply. “Ari, I don’t think you realize how close you were to being lost.”
Her chest tightened at the emotion in his voice, and she reached out to take his hand, her grip firm but reassuring. “Cullen, I hear you now. I promise I do. Yesterday… I couldn’t process it. It was too much, too fast. But I wasn’t in danger. Solas was there. He knew what he was doing.”
Cullen shook his head, his frustration evident. “You trust him too much.”
“I trust him because he saved me,” Ariana said, her voice calm but resolute. “I know it’s hard for you to see it, Cullen, but Solas is brilliant. He’s shown me things, explained things I didn’t think I could ever understand. That’s all this is—curiosity. Exploration.”
Cullen’s jaw clenched, his free hand curling into a fist at his side. “I understand your curiosity, Ari. I do. But I need you to be careful. The Fade isn’t just some ancient ruin to explore. It’s not a puzzle to solve. It’s dangerous. It’s unpredictable.”
Ariana’s gaze softened as she squeezed his hand. “I know you’re worried,” she said gently. “And I’m sorry if I wasn’t listening yesterday. But I’m here now. I’m grounded. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He searched her face for a long moment, his expression softening slightly as her words sank in. “You’re sure?” he asked quietly. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m sure,” she said, her voice steady. “And I promise, I’ll be careful. I won’t do anything reckless.”
Cullen nodded slowly, though the worry in his eyes didn’t entirely fade. “Alright,” he said finally. “But, Ari… if anything feels wrong, if anything changes, you tell me. Immediately.”
“Of course,” she agreed without hesitation. “You’re always the first person I tell.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. “I just need you safe,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all I care about.”
Ariana rested her head against his chest, her arms wrapping around him. “I know,” she said softly. “And I will be. I promise.”
As they stood there, the tension between them slowly began to ease. Cullen’s grip on her loosened slightly, though he didn’t pull away entirely. Ariana could feel his heartbeat gradually steadying beneath her cheek, and she allowed herself a moment to simply breathe him in, the familiar scent of oakmoss and elderflower grounding her.
After a few moments of silence, she tilted her head up to look at him, her lips curving into a faint, mischievous smile. “So,” she began, her tone soft but playful, “am I really needed in the war room, or was that just an excuse to get me away from Solas?”
Cullen froze for half a second, his hazel eyes flickering with something between guilt and amusement before he let out a quiet sigh. “Josephine does need to see you,” he admitted, his tone more relaxed now. “I believe it’s something to do with Magister Alexius.”
Ariana raised an eyebrow, her teasing smile widening. “Oh, so there is a war room matter? I suppose I shouldn’t feel too flattered, then.”
Cullen shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a reluctant smile. “It’s not that,” he said, his voice softer now. “You know I’d have come to find you regardless. I just… I couldn’t leave things as they were. Not after last night.”
Her expression softened, and she reached up to brush her fingers lightly against his cheek. “I know,” she said gently. “And I’m glad you came to find me. Really.”
His gaze searched hers for a moment before he nodded, his hand moving to rest over hers. “Just… promise me you’ll take it slow,” he said. “Whatever this is with Solas—whatever it is you’re trying to learn—don’t let it pull you too far away.”
“I promise,” Ariana said, her voice steady and sincere. “You’re always my anchor, Cullen. You know that.”
The warmth in his eyes deepened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Alright,” he murmured. “Let’s go see Josephine, then. The Magister can’t wait forever.”
Ariana laughed softly, letting him lead her toward the door. But as they walked, she couldn’t help but glance back at the battlements, the conversation with Solas still fresh in her mind. The pull of the unknown was as strong as ever—but so was her resolve to stay grounded in what mattered most.
~~~
“Ah, Inquisitor, you’re here,” Josephine acknowledged as Ariana and Cullen entered her office. “Please follow me,” she said, turning briskly to lead them elsewhere.
Ariana exchanged a glance with Cullen, her brow furrowed in confusion. His expression mirrored hers—a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Without a word, they followed Josephine back out of her office and into the main hall.
Ariana’s steps slowed as the group approached the throne. The weight of the massive chair seemed to grow heavier with each step closer, and she glanced nervously between Josephine and Cullen. The grandeur of it—its gilded frame and imposing presence—only added to her unease.
“What are we doing here?” she asked cautiously, her voice tight with suspicion. She had always hated that thing. If it were up to her, there wouldn’t even be a throne here—she’d have replaced it with a simple table and chairs, something practical and unassuming.
“Impressive, is it not?” Josephine motioned to the throne with a graceful wave of her hand. “Fit for a leader. Meant to show influence—and the burden of it. It is where the Inquisition will sit in judgment. Where you will sit in judgment.”
Ariana’s stomach dropped. She turned sharply to Cullen, her hazel-green eyes wide with desperation, silently pleading for him to make sense of this.
“I’m sorry… what?” Ariana said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Cullen stepped forward, his protective instincts kicking in. “Josephine, what are you talking about? Who will she be judging, exactly?”
Josephine’s gaze shifted between them, her composed demeanor faltering slightly, though she quickly masked it with a polite smile. “Those who have done wrong. You will know of them, at the very least,” she explained, her tone calm and matter-of-fact. Her focus returned to Ariana. “All this presumes they have survived their initial encounter with you, of course.”
Ariana’s breath hitched. Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she stared at Josephine in disbelief. Judgment? She wants me to pass judgment on people?
She looked back at Cullen, silently begging him to fix this.
Sensing her distress, Cullen interjected. “Why aren’t we simply sending them back for their own governments to handle?”
Josephine tilted her head slightly, as though the question were unexpected. “The Inquisition’s sovereignty is derived from the allies who validate it,” she began, her tone still maddeningly calm. Her gaze shifted back to Ariana. “You are both empowered and bound. Justice has many tools. If their application is clever, execution may even seem merciful by comparison.”
Ariana closed her eyes, rubbing her temples as she tried to steady her breathing. The room felt stifling. Josephine’s words rang in her ears, cold and clinical, like this was just another strategy in her endless calculations. Execution? Mercy? No. This isn’t what I’m here for.
“And you’re telling me this now because…?” she asked, her voice tight with frustration.
“Magister Alexius will be the first of such prisoners under the Inquisition’s sovereignty to judge,” Josephine replied smoothly. She paused, as if waiting for Ariana to respond, but when she didn’t, Josephine’s gaze shifted back to Cullen. “Ferelden has given him to us as acknowledgment of your aid.”
“Then send a letter to Alistair,” Ariana snapped, her voice sharp. “I appreciate him giving Alexius to us, but he can deal with him. I’m sure Arl Teagan won’t mind judging him.”
Before Josephine could respond, Ariana turned on her heel and walked away. Her footsteps echoed in the silent hall as she left the throne and the suffocating expectations that came with it behind.
She barely registered the walk back to her quarters, her thoughts spinning faster than she could keep up with. Judgment. A throne. Execution. The words repeated like a chant in her mind, each one striking like a hammer against stone.
As she stepped into her quarters, her breaths came shorter and shallower. She tried to inhale deeply, but her chest felt too tight. The room blurred slightly as she stumbled toward the couch. Collapsing to her knees, she leaned against it, her head falling forward into her hands.
I didn’t agree to this. I didn’t agree to any of this.
She didn’t hear Cullen enter until his voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “Ari,” he said softly, kneeling beside her. “Are you alright?”
She looked up at him, her hazel-green eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I… no… I’m not,” she snapped, her voice breaking. “I didn’t agree to this, Cullen.”
He reached for her hand, his touch gentle but grounding. “I know,” he said softly. “I know you didn’t.”
Her shoulders trembled as she shook her head, her voice rising. “I’m not… this. I’m not a leader or a judge. I’m not…” She trailed off, her breaths coming in quick, uneven gasps.
“You’re just Wolf,” Cullen finished for her, his voice calm and steady. “I know.”
She laughed bitterly, the sound catching in her throat. “I don’t want a throne. I don’t want to sit in judgment. That’s not what I signed up for. I’m just… I’m just a mercenary. That’s all I’ve ever been.”
Cullen’s hand tightened around hers, his other hand brushing against her cheek. “You’re so much more than that, Ari,” he said gently. “You’ve always been more than that. But I understand why this feels like too much.”
Her eyes searched his, desperate for reassurance. “I can’t do this, Cullen,” she whispered. “I can fight. I can lead troops. I can protect people. But sitting on a throne, passing judgment? That’s not me.”
Cullen hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Then let me help,” he said finally. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I’ll take on whatever I can. If there’s a way to share the burden, I’ll find it.”
She closed her eyes, her forehead pressing against his shoulder as the tension in her body ebbed away, replaced by a fragile but growing resolve. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice steadier now. “For not letting me run.”
Cullen’s arms encircled her fully, holding her close as he rested his chin against her hair. “You can run, Ari,” he murmured. “But I’ll always catch you.”
A soft laugh escaped her, muffled against his chest. “That’s not very reassuring, you know.”
He smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Then let me rephrase: I’ll always stand beside you.”
For a long moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s presence as the storm inside her began to calm. Finally, Ariana pulled back, her gaze meeting his. “I’ll do it,” she said, her voice firmer now. “But only because I know you’ll be there.”
“Always,” Cullen replied, his tone steady and certain.
And as they stood, their hands still clasped, Ariana felt a flicker of strength she hadn’t known she possessed. It wasn’t the throne that defined her—it was the people around her. And with Cullen by her side, she knew she could face whatever judgment awaited.
~~~
Ariana lingered near the fireplace in the main hall after the judgment, staring into the flickering flames. She could still hear Alexius’ resigned voice echoing in her ears.
“No execution? Very well.”
The weight of the throne—the literal and metaphorical—still pressed heavily on her, and even now, she found herself rubbing the back of her neck as if she could physically ease the tension it brought. She felt a presence beside her before the voice spoke.
“You handled it well, you know,” Dorian said, his tone carefully neutral.
Ariana glanced at him, her hazel-green eyes shadowed. “Did I?”
Dorian gave a small shrug, his lips curling into a faint smile. “You didn’t kill him, so I’d call it a success.”
Her gaze returned to the fire, her voice quieter. “He was your mentor. I thought you’d have more to say.”
“I do,” Dorian admitted, stepping closer to her. “You gave him a purpose again—research, magic. That’s where Alexius was always happiest. Where he was… before everything fell apart.” He hesitated, his voice growing softer. “I wonder if, someday, he might even speak to me again. It’s been a long time since we’ve truly talked.”
Ariana’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re not angry with me?”
Dorian shook his head. “Angry? No. Relieved, perhaps. Grateful. You gave him mercy, something he didn’t earn but desperately needed. Thank you, truly.” His usual sharp wit softened into sincerity, and the gratitude in his voice was unmistakable.
Ariana allowed herself a faint smile. “I wasn’t sure if it was the right call. Still not sure.”
“Of course you’re not,” Dorian said, his tone light but edged with honesty. “But that’s exactly why it was the right call. You’re not a tyrant, Ariana. You’re not someone who sits on that throne with a quick hand or a cold heart. You don’t want this power—and that’s why you’re the one who should wield it.”
She blinked, his words unexpectedly echoing Cullen’s earlier reassurances. “You sound like Cullen.”
“Then he must be as wise as he is stubborn,” Dorian quipped, though his smile softened. “But it’s true, you know. Your hesitation, your discomfort—it means you’re thinking, weighing your choices. That throne needs someone who doesn’t take it for granted, who doesn’t revel in its power. Someone like you.”
Ariana’s gaze dropped to the floor, her fingers fidgeting at her sides. “It doesn’t feel that way. I don’t want a throne, Dorian. I never asked for this. Fighting? I can do that. Sitting in judgment?” She shook her head, her voice lowering. “That’s not who I am.”
Dorian studied her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Then, with a graceful flourish, he offered her his arm. “Well, my darling Inquisitor, perhaps it’s time you reminded yourself who you are. Shall we head to the tavern? I find nothing calms existential dread quite like a good bottle of wine.”
Ariana blinked at him, startled into a soft laugh. “That I can do.”
“Of course you can, my dear. We’re black sheep after all,” he replied, his smile widening. “Come on. I’ll even let you buy the first round.”
She hesitated for only a moment before taking his arm, grateful for the reprieve he offered. As they walked toward the doors, Dorian turned his head and called back over his shoulder.
“Oh, Commander, care to join us?” he asked, his voice carrying easily across the hall. “I think your betrothed could use your… steadying presence.”
Cullen, who had been quietly observing from a distance, straightened slightly, his brow furrowing with faint concern. “Is she alright?”
“She’s with me,” Dorian replied smoothly. “Of course she’s alright. But, alas, I’m not the man she has chosen to marry.”
Ariana rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “Stop badgering him, Dorian.”
“I would never,” Dorian said, mock-offended. “Now, shall we?”
Cullen hesitated for only a moment before nodding, stepping forward to join them. As the three of them left the hall together, Ariana felt some of the weight lift from her shoulders. It wasn’t gone—not entirely—but with them by her side, it felt just a little easier to carry.
~~~
Ariana lay awake, staring at the faint light creeping through the curtains. The world was still and quiet, the faint sounds of the wind brushing against the stone walls the only indication that dawn wasn’t far off. But sleep refused to come. Her thoughts were restless, skipping like stones across the surface of her mind.
She turned her head toward Cullen, who lay beside her, his breathing deep and even. The sight of him so peaceful brought a small smile to her lips. But that smile quickly turned mischievous as an idea took shape.
Rolling onto her side, she reached out and gently poked his shoulder. “Cullen,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent. When he didn’t stir, she poked him again, a little harder this time. “Cullen.”
Still no response. Her grin widened as she leaned closer, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek, then another to his temple. “Commander,” she murmured playfully, the title carrying a singsong lilt. “Time to wake up.”
Cullen shifted slightly, letting out a soft, sleepy groan but otherwise remaining stubbornly still.
Ariana huffed, sitting up slightly. Her fingers danced over his ribs in a teasing attempt at tickling him. “You promised…”
That earned her a reaction. Cullen groaned again, this time reaching out to grab her wrists, stopping her playful assault. His eyes cracked open, bleary and golden in the dim light, as he squinted up at her. “Ari,” he muttered, his voice rough with sleep. “What are you doing?”
“I’m waking you up,” she replied with a grin, leaning down until her face was inches from his. “You’ve slept long enough.”
“It’s barely dawn,” he mumbled, releasing her hands and rubbing a hand over his face. “Why are you even awake?”
She shrugged, flopping onto her side next to him. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Clearly,” he muttered, his tone dry but affectionate. He turned his head to look at her, his brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing,” Ariana said cheerfully, propping herself up on her elbow. “I just thought it’d be fun to train. Come on, Cullen. Let’s go to the courtyard.”
“Fun,” he repeated flatly, his head sinking back into the pillow. “It’s too early for ‘fun,’ Ari.”
Ariana’s grin widened. “But not too early to train. You could learn a lot from me.”
Cullen cracked one eye open, giving her a skeptical look. “Such as?”
“Well, for starters,” she began, sitting up straighter, “you could learn how to fight in the dark.”
Cullen blinked, looking at her as though she’d just suggested he take up juggling. “Why would I need to fight in the dark?”
Ariana gasped, clutching her chest in mock horror. “You mean to tell me Templars don’t train in the dark? What do you do if you’re ambushed at night?”
“We light a torch,” Cullen replied dryly, his expression deadpan.
She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. “Amateurs. Next you’ll tell me you don’t climb trees?”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Trees?”
“Yes, trees,” Ariana said, her tone serious. “You do learn that sometimes you might need to climb a tree, with nothing but a dagger? Ambushes aren’t won from the ground.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them, and she immediately winced. Her expression faltered for a brief moment, her mind flashing to Krieger, but she quickly shook it off and plastered on a smile.
Ariana let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning over him and placing a trail of soft kisses along his jawline. “Come on, Commander,” she murmured, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. “I’m not giving up, you know,” she warned, her grin mischievous. She straddled him, sitting on his waist as her hands pressed against his chest. “You promised if I wanted my Commander training with me, you’d be there…”
His hands moved to her wrists again, holding them in place as his eyes finally opened fully. There was a glint of amusement in his tired gaze as he studied her. “Maker’s breath, you’re relentless.”
“Only because I know you can’t resist me,” she teased, leaning down until their noses nearly touched.
Cullen sighed, his lips twitching upward in a faint smile. “Alright, alright. I’m up.”
“Really?” Ariana’s face lit up with triumphant excitement.
“Yes,” he said, shifting to sit up and guide her off him. “But if I’m doing this, you’d better be ready to work.”
“Oh, I’m always ready,” she shot back, hopping off the bed and stretching her arms over her head.
Cullen swung his legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through his tousled hair as he watched her with a mix of fondness and exasperation. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so determined to ruin a good night’s sleep.”
“You’ll thank me later,” Ariana quipped, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door. “Come on, Commander. The courtyard’s waiting.”
Cullen allowed himself to be pulled along, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “Maker help me, Ari. You’re insufferable.”
“And yet you still want to marry me,” she tossed over her shoulder, her grin widening.
“Unfortunately, I do,” he admitted, his voice laced with affection as they made their way out of the room and toward the courtyard.
~~~
By the time Cullen and Ariana reached the courtyard, the soft glow of dawn was creeping over Skyhold, casting long shadows across the stone. Cullen’s initial fatigue faded when he noticed Michael and Linnea already sparring in the center. Michael’s strikes were heavy, methodical, while Linnea danced out of his reach, her parries quick and precise.
Cullen slowed his steps, taking in the scene, while Ariana’s pace remained light and eager. Her energy always seemed endless—how she could be so lively before dawn baffled him.
“Well, looks like we’re late,” Ariana quipped, her voice light with amusement. She glanced at Linnea, catching her eye and grinning.
Linnea lowered her sword, her sharp eyes narrowing playfully at the sight of Ariana. “Or just in time,” she called out. “Care to join us?”
Ariana exchanged a mischievous look with Linnea, her grin widening. “How about a team match? You and me against them.” She jerked her head toward Michael and Cullen.
Michael raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “You think you can take us?”
“I know we can take you,” Ariana shot back, her tone dripping with mock confidence.
Ariana exchanged a glance with Cullen, her grin widening before turning back to Linnea. “You’ll love this,” she said, her voice dripping with mock alarm. “Apparently, Templars don’t train in the dark. Or climb trees.”
Linnea blinked in shock, her expression quickly morphing into mock horror. “Wait, what?” She turned to Cullen and Michael, incredulous.
Cullen sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. He already didn’t like where this was going. “Why would we train in the dark?”
Linnea let out a gasp of genuine disbelief, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Because ambushes don’t wait for daylight!”
Michael frowned, his voice matter-of-fact. “If it’s dark, you light a torch.”
Linnea froze, staring at him like he’d just declared war on common sense. “With what hand? Do you give up the shield or the sword? Or do you just hope your enemies politely wait while you find your flint and start a campfire?”
Cullen groaned internally. Maker, give me patience.
Ariana doubled over in laughter, leaning against Linnea for support. “You see? This is why they’re hopeless.”
“Clearly,” Linnea agreed, shaking her head in mock dismay. “We’re going to have to fix this.”
“How exactly do you propose doing that?” Cullen asked dryly, crossing his arms.
Linnea’s grin turned sly as she exchanged a knowing glance with Ariana. “Maybe this is an unfair match. Maybe we should switch pairs.”
The two women turned to Cullen and Michael, their expressions unreadable. For a moment, Cullen almost thought they were serious—until they both shook their heads in unison.
“No,” Ariana said, smirking. “I think we’re good.”
Linnea clapped her on the shoulder. “Agreed. No switching. Feel free to light a torch.”
Michael groaned. “Why do I put up with this?”
“Because you love me,” Linnea shot back before immediately realizing what she’d said. Her face went pale as she turned to Ariana in alarm. “Uh… Wolf, I—”
Cullen’s eyebrows rose slightly, and his gaze darted to Ariana, who stared at Linnea for a long moment before her lips twitched into a smirk.
“Linnea,” Ariana interrupted, staring at her with mock incredulity. “That’s my brother.”
“I can explain!” Linnea blurted, her voice rising.
But Ariana burst out laughing, waving a hand as though dismissing the whole thing. “Maker, you two have been so bad at hiding this. Honestly, I don’t even know why you were trying.”
Michael blinked in surprise. “You knew?”
Before Ariana could answer, Riley’s voice cut through the courtyard. “Oh, Andraste’s arse, all the Rangers know. Wolf is right—you two are terrible at subtlety. Wolf was more successful at hiding Cullen for years.”
Cullen groaned softly. “Must we bring me into this?”
Riley strolled up to stand next to Ariana, who leaned casually against her. “Did you know,” Ariana said, turning to Riley, “that Templars don’t train in the dark?”
Riley’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, are you telling me all we needed to do in Kirkwall was ambush them at night?”
“Or from above,” Linnea added. “They don’t climb trees either.”
Riley groaned. “Maker’s breath… Wolf, why didn’t you tell us that sooner?”
“I didn’t know!” Ariana protested, gesturing at Linnea. “Linnea is the spymaster.”
Linnea pointed accusingly at Ariana. “You were the one involved with the Knight-Captain of Kirkwall. And your brother’s a Templar!”
Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are the three of you done? Or can I go back to bed?”
Ariana turned to Riley and Linnea, her grin turning wicked. She rolled out her neck, an unmistakable spark of mischief lighting her hazel-green eyes.
“Well, shit,” Riley muttered, stepping back slightly. “Now we’re all in trouble. Are we helping them, Wolf?”
“No,” Ariana replied, her grin widening. “Riley’s with me. Linnea can help my brother.” She raised an eyebrow at Linnea. “Since she’s apparently in love with him.”
Linnea groaned, throwing up her hands. “That’s not fair! Why do I have to be on the losing team?”
“Excuse me?” Michael interjected, clearly offended.
Linnea turned to him, exasperated. “I’m not sparring against Wolf when she looks like that. And Wolf and Riley? Not a fair match.”
Cullen cleared his throat, stepping forward. “It’s sparring, Linnea. You’ll be fine.”
“What do you want, Linnea? Do you want to get Lamberto?” Ariana asked.
“Did I hear my name?” Lamberto’s familiar voice interrupted from the path behind them. He appeared alongside Valentina.
“Sparring match. We’re trying to even out the odds,” Ariana explained. “Riley is with me.”
“And Cullen challenged Wolf,” Riley added.
“Oh, then I’m only joining if I get to stay with Wolf,” Lamberto said, strolling up beside them.
“Ugh,” Valentina grunted. “Are you saying I have to go to the losing team?” she asked, defeated.
“Excuse me!” Michael interjected. “Nothing says we’ll lose. Cullen, Linnea, and I can handle Ariana just fine.”
Almost in unison, Linnea, Riley, Lamberto, Valentina, and Ariana tilted their heads and exchanged confused glances.
Michael crossed his arms, smirking. “Besides, Cullen has beat Ariana before, we just have to take Riley.”
The courtyard fell silent. Cullen’s chest tightened as the words hung in the air. His mind flashed back to Kirkwall—the chaos, the blood, Ariana on her knees unable to fight anymore. His gaze darted to Ariana, expecting anger or hurt. Instead, her expression was unreadable—calm, except for the sharp glint in her eye.
She smirked, setting aside two training swords. “Well, that does it. Clearly, Linnea has taught you nothing.”
“Dammit,” Valentina muttered loudly.
“I think you three should go help them,” Riley said finally, her knowing tone unmistakable.
With that, Linnea, Lamberto, and Valentina walked over to Cullen and Michael, looking defeated already.
“You really need to teach your boyfriend to stop talking,” Valentina muttered as she joined them, clearly resigned to the chaos.
Linnea huffed. “How was I supposed to know he’d be this reckless? He’s her brother! He should know better!” she said as she shot Michael a playful glare that said she wasn’t done with him.
Cullen sighed, shaking his head as the banter continued, but a small smile tugged at his lips. Even amidst the chaos, Ariana had a way of drawing everyone in, of making even the most mundane mornings feel alive.
By the time the sparring match was over, Ariana had taken down most of them. She had faced three opponents at once while Riley dealt with the remaining two.
“So… breakfast?” Ariana asked triumphantly, stretching her neck. “Isabel should have something ready.”
She wrapped an arm around Linnea’s shoulders, her grin playful. “So… love? We going to talk about this?”
Linnea groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “I’m not saying I’ll deny it, but you don’t have to announce it to Skyhold, Wolf.”
“I didn’t announce it,” Ariana shot back, laughing. “You did.”
As they walked to the kitchen, Cullen couldn’t help but admire the woman he loved. Watching her like this, in her element, it was as if he were seeing her fully for the first time. The White Wolf—the one shaped by the Blight, the one who founded the Silver Rangers, the one who had spent her life helping those who could not help themselves. She had always been this person, even back in Kirkwall, but he had been too blinded by duty, by the weight of the Order, to truly see her.
A small sense of guilt tugged at his chest. What if he had understood her sooner? What if he had been willing to listen—to truly see her when they stood on opposite sides of that war-torn city? Could they have worked together? Could they have stopped the war before it started?
The thought was a bitter one, but he pushed it aside. He could not change the past, but he could make damn sure he didn’t waste any more time. He was more determined than ever to know everything about her—the woman, the warrior, the legend she had become. Because the more he learned, the more he realized: she was extraordinary.
And he had never admired anyone more.