Dragon Age 1. Chapter 1

He'd left her to die. For the sake of the inquisition, and all of those who fell under its banner, he had abandoned her to a fate that none could survive. Cullen grit his teeth, trying to suppress more than just the cold. So many had died already, and he'd allowed the Herald of Andraste to be counted among those numbers. Even as a small voice in the back of his mind insisted that there was nothing that he could have done, a larger part of him knew that he should have done more to try.

Pulling his cloak snuggly shut, he rubbed his hands together before breathing into his cupped palms, trying to capture the heat of his breath and warm his numb fingertips. He rubbed his arms and shuddered against the cold, in a futile attempt to generate more warmth, before glancing back at the trail of men and women following behind him.

The night had started out so differently. The entirety of Haven had been alight in celebration, laughter and dancing setting the atmosphere on fire with a jubilant energy. The ominous hole in the sky had finally been closed. The people were allowed a glimmer of hope and it was all because of the Herald of Andraste, a dalish elf of all people.

She denied the title at every turn, not maliciously, but more out of caution than anything else. She couldn't remember how she'd come about the mark, or what had happened before stepping out of the fade. The exotically beautiful elf was skeptical of the mysticism everyone was trying to force upon her. Cullen saw the way she would stare at her marked hand, how heavily she would contemplate its meaning and why she was the one to bear it. Whether it was Andraste or her Creators that had set her aside, the fact remained, she was their only hope. And Cullen had left her to die.

What had been the last thing he said to her? Maker, he couldn't remember. He did remember the determined furrow of her auburn brows when he'd asked her about how she'd escape. Cullen could remember with perfect clarity how her sea green eyes hardened with resoluteness, lips thinning with unwavering, semi-fatalistic, purpose. Delani Lavellan had known that the likelihood of her making it out of Haven with her life wasn't in her favor, and she didn't care.

Once the people of Haven, and what remained of the Inquisition's forces, had made it a safe distance, the flaming arrow had gone up. They'd stood atop the mountain side, holding their breaths and waiting. Then, after a minute or so, the trebuchet fired and the entirety of Haven was buried in snow; the Herald likely buried with it.

For at least the night, they had a reprieve, and it was because of an elf who'd had the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Cullen sincerely hoped that he had the chance to thank her for providing everyone with the opportunity to make it out of Haven safely. He ignored the nagging sense of doubt that persisted that it was already too late.

"She made it." A voice deeply rumbled from his side, surprising him away from his thoughts. Cullen glanced down to catch Varric standing beside him. The dwarf was swaddled in a coat too large for him, a mug of hot tea forced into his hands the moment he, Solas, and the Iron Bull reunited with the rest of the Inquisition's forces.

They'd gone with her to face the Elder One, they were supposed to have her back, and yet they'd been the only ones to return. Cullen shook his head and looked up from the stout man. He was glad that the Herald's team had made it back safely; it wasn't that he'd rather for them all to have died in Haven, he just wished that Delani could've made it out with them.

His exhale was heavy with doubt and clouded the air in front of him. Combing his fingers through his thick hair, Cullen summoned forth the piece of him who so desperately wanted to believe Varric. When he looked back down at the dwarf, it was with a small smirk feigning at the corner of his mouth. "Maker willing," he replied.

Varric noticed straight away the lack of conviction in Cullen's features, and his brows pinched slightly with displeasure. Confidently he said, "Just give her some time to catch up," and he left Cullen's side so that he could join the others.

Rubbing the weariness from his eyes, Cullen let loose another heavy breath and turned to assist in putting together another medical tent. Many people had gotten hurt during the escape and, for some, the cold mountain air would not help them overcome their injuries. He had to keep his hands busy in order to take his mind off of his short comings in protecting the Herald.

There was this weight hovering over the camp, over the souls that occupied it. They had their lives, but what would become of them now? With Delani alive there had been a sure way of closing rifts; if she didn't come back… More than that, now they also had this Elder One to contend with.

The Inquisition was currently in a state of disarray. They had no base of operations, they had no fortifications, they had no structure, they had no leader, and Cullen knew that it would be the latter that might be their undoing. Without someone to follow, this meager force would eventually disband and all of Thedas would be doomed to fall further into chaos. But who would lead them?

He was commander of the Inquisition's forces, the men followed his every word loyally and with conviction, but Cullen knew his limitations. He had failed so grandly in the past, and he couldn't fail again, not with this. That left Cassandra, Lilliana, and Josephine.

All three women had their strengths, all three women were no strangers to responsibility or challenge, but could any of them lead an entire inquisition? Cassandra had already turned away from the role, and Lilliana's talents were best suited in the cover of shadows and mystery. Josephine was an intelligent and resourceful woman, but she couldn't lead the inquisition. She didn't have the stomach for difficult decisions or the demands of war. Her resilience as an ambassador wouldn't translate to the makings of the kind of leader the Inquisition needed. Yet again it seemed that the elf woman was the answer to one more question.

Once the tent was set up Cullen stepped away in order to join Josephine, Lilliana, and Cassandra in planning their next move. He had stalled long enough, waiting for Varric's prediction of Delani's return to come to fruition. She was likely buried with the rest of Haven. They had to move on, even if the very thought made this sickening pit form in his gut.

They were gathered around a table, a map of Ferelden splayed over its surface. The three women looked about as frustrated and hopeless as Cullen felt. Cassandra's short hair was mussed from brushing her fingers through it too often, the frown on her lips more than the irritated downward pull he'd become accustomed to; Cassandra's frown was disheartened, worried, afraid for what would come. Josephine was little better at disguising her fear. Her clipboard was still in hand out of habit, as though holding the thing would keep her grounded. Out of all of them it was Lilliana who maintained an unshakable exterior. But Cullen could still tell by the shadow in her eyes that she wasn't doing any better than the rest of them.

"With Haven gone, where will we go?" Josephine asked, pressing her clipboard to her breast as she contemplated the map spread open before them. "Our occupation of Haven was borne out of necessity. Convincing someone else to give us sanctuary won't be as easy the second time around."

"Well we can't linger about on the mountainside," Cullen stated the obvious, feeling a seed of frustration start to take root and threaten to spread. "We are vulnerable to attack, and we'll lose more people to this blasted cold."

The grunt that sounded from Cassandra was agreeing, though when she spoke it was to argue with him. "Without a benefactor, settling just anywhere would appear as trespassing. We are not the force we were at dawn, and we may not inspire the same support we did just hours ago."

"And we can't very well take claim of just anywhere." Lilliana inserted. "We're not invaders."

"No," Cullen was forced to agree with that much. Firmly gripping the pommel of his sword, he welcomed the familiarity of it, understanding Josephine's need to hold her clipboard. "But, the statement still stands: we need to move."

* * *

Delani hated the cold, she always had. She hated the way it ate through even the warmest clothing, how it chilled her nose, and made it feel like the moisture in her mouth and throat was turning into dangerously sharp icicles. She couldn't stand the way the tips of her pointed ears felt raw, attacked by the freezing wind and snow. Her clan typically stuck to warmer climate areas if ever possible, asking the same of the Inquisition seemed like asking for the impossible.

She hugged herself as she trudged through knee high snow, cursing the wind and the snow with every step. Bandits, she could deal with, bears, no problem, demons, those were new but she could handle demons; blistering cold, icy wind, knee high snow, all while wearing her poorly insulated hunter garbs, _that_ she couldn't deal with gracefully. What Delani wouldn't do for a roaring fire right about now, who she wouldn't kill for a bowl of soup so hot it would burn her mouth.

What pushed her forward was the need to know that her team had made it out of Haven safely; also the howling wolves that were pursuing her, but she was trying not to think about them. Varric, Solas, and Iron Bull had remained loyally at her side throughout the fight at Haven. Up until a thousand year old Tevinter magister, darkspawn, hybrid, _thing_ had appeared with an arch demon and separated them.

An arch-_fucking_-demon, she growled to herself as she freed her boot from the snow and pushed herself forward. Currently, the only thing keeping her trudging along was her anger. If not for her determination to exact revenge on Corypheus, she would have collapsed hours ago. Even if her current speed was a slow meander, she was moving which was much more than what her body was willing to do.

Another howl sounded through the night, closer this time. She didn't bother reaching for the daggers sheathed at her back. Her muscles were too stiff, her motions were too slow. She wouldn't be able to fight off a pack of wolves. _A_ wolf she might be able to take down but, in her current state, a pack would tear her apart easier than a new born fennic. Last she counted there were four wolves trailing her, there were likely to be more now. If she had any luck at all they were hungry, and hopefully it would be enough to at least make it quick.

Breathing into her hands, she rubbed them together and tried to cause enough friction to at least feel the digits again. Her legs were aching, the muscles protesting each step as she took them. The bones in her side screamed with each breath, with every motion, and Delani was familiar enough with the pain to recognize that a minimum of one of her ribs was at least cracked, if not completely broken.

The last time she'd felt the familiar pain she'd fallen out of a tree. Delani had been a child, playing hide-and-seek with her father. Her mother had always scolded her against climbing, but her father secretly encouraged her wild tendencies. He'd been counting, his face buried in the crook of his arm as he casually leaned against a tree, bow slung across his torso in case they ran into any trouble.

Delani could remember herself giggling, her excitement giving away her hiding place before her father even had the chance to look up from inside his elbow. She'd made it halfway up the tree, and had planned to climb even higher when she felt something scuttle across her fingers. There was one thing that Delani hated more than the cold and the snow, and that was spiders. Ripping her hand free from beneath the spider's legs had caused her to lose her footing, her balance was thrown and she fell.

Her small body had collided with branches on the way down. The impact of being so violently returned to the ground had stolen the breath right from her lungs. She could remember the worry and the desperation in her father's light, chestnut colored eyes, could hear him calling her name and making sure that she was alright. He'd carried her back to the clan and had taken her mother's ire in stride. Afterwords, when she was afraid of climbing and falling again, he'd encouraged her back into the branches.

"_You've learned the danger, da'mi._" He'd said, brushing back her auburn hair as he stared at his daughter with adoring eyes. _"Avoiding your fears does not destroy them. Only by overcoming them will you see beyond the tree line."_

Trembling fingers reached for the carving knife strapped to her belt. She thumbed over the hilt, trying to summon the energy to keep on going even if all her body wanted to do was collapse into the powdery white sheet of snow surrounding her for miles. She wasn't afraid of climbing anymore. Spiders still made her skin crawl but the worst they did was make her uncomfortable. Her newest fear was a monster that claimed to have walked physically through the fade, the creature who had cursed her with this mark.

She either had the worst luck in the world, or the best; Delani still hadn't decided which. She'd survived whatever had happened in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, when everyone else in attendance had died. Corypheus had kindly bestowed her with this anchor, which could possibly kill her, but also closed rifts to the Fade and helped kill demons. Tonight she'd met her first Tevinter magister, and also an arch demon, and she'd come away from the encounter with her life. On a less cataclysmic level, the snow had finally stopped flurrying, but now the wolves at her back were starting to get impatient. Delani's luck was a dual sided blade, she decided, for her good luck always went hand in hand with the bad.

Her knees buckled and she fell face first into the snow. The cold white flecks greeted her bitingly, chilling her cheeks and seeping through her breeches. A groan escaped her as she pushed herself out of the snow, trying to escape winter's frosty fingers before it drained her completely of all willpower to press on.

She managed to get onto her knees but her body refused to be pushed further. Even as a deadly chorus sang into the night, she couldn't be swayed to pick herself up off of the ground. _Get up_, a voice said to her, its tone scolding, irate. _If you stay here you'll die_.

Would dying be so terrible? She'd done what she could for the Inquisition. They'd hardly needed her before anyway. Yes, they'd forced titles on her like "Herald of Andraste" and called her "The Maker's Chosen" but those had just been names supplied out of fear. She was just an elf. They'd find another.

She pulled free the carving knife at her waist and stared down at the worn hilt, admiring how the blade caught the star light and seemed to glow in the night. "Coward," she grumbled to herself, her breath clouding the air before her. Was this really going to be her undoing? A little cold and a broken rib? Was _this_ the exemplification of what kind of people the Dalish had to offer? No wonder her people had fallen so far. She was weak and the weak died off. The laws of nature bent for no one.

Her eyes fell shut and her trembling fingers wrapped tightly around the knife's hilt, clutching it desperately as she reminded herself why she needed to get back on her feet. She had to make sure that the others had made it out of Haven safely. Delani had to be sure that her clan didn't get crushed in the chaos that this world was becoming. Her parents had raised her to be better than this. Her father would be so disappointed to see her kneeling in the snow, encumbered by her own self-doubt and weakness.

What would Varric tell others about her? The Herald of Andraste was torn apart by wolves because she broke a rib and couldn't go for a walk in the snow. It would be the shortest story ever told. That was how she would be remembered, that was how her companions would talk about her.

A pair of golden eyes appeared on the backs of her tightly shut eyelids, shining like honey held against the sunlight. They were not her father's eyes, though sometimes they reminded her of him. Those beautiful amber irises belonged to the commander of the Inquisition, and if she died now she would never see them again. What a shame it would be, to die without having gotten the chance to get to know Cullen; when there was so much that she wanted to know.

What did his laugh sound like? She'd pulled a chuckle out of him once or twice already, but Delani wanted to hear an honest to Creators laugh. Did he snort when he laughed, she couldn't help but wonder, thumbing over the tip of her knife. And that smile, she remembered the sight of it, the way the scar on his lip would scrunch up with his amusement. Her fascination with the human made her feel like an archeologist, there was still so much of him left to uncover; which she couldn't do if she was eaten alive by wolves.

Opening her eyes, she stared down at the carving knife, mustering the energy to get back onto her feet. This was not how her story was going to end. She moved her leg and braced herself against the snow. This was not how she was going to be remembered. Delani pulled herself up with a groan and waited for her head to stop spinning. She was _not_ going to die before finding out what Cullen's laugh sounded like.

Finally she was moving again, slower than ever, but at least she moving. She returned the knife to its place on her belt, grateful that she'd remembered to bring it with her. The small blade had seen her through a great deal, and it'd see her through this too.

Delani kept going, kept moving, not daring to stop; because if she did she wouldn't be able to start back up again. The wolves were constantly at her back, waiting, anticipating, biding their time until she was no longer able to move.

The muscles in her legs ached, her bones groaning with her every step. The pain in her side had changed from unbearable to ignorable, the sharp dig was still there, consistent with her breathing, but it was just another ache. She was too tired to give a damn. The only thing that Delani cared about was moving, that was all she could allow herself to focus on. Everything else was an afterthought, background noise.

She didn't know how long she blindly traveled through the snow, couldn't bring herself to really care, but when her eyes fluttered open it was for hope to ember inside of her. There was a light in the distance, the glow of multiple fires burring, of an encampment waiting. She was so close. She was almost there.

Hope was not enough to make her move any faster. Her energy was depleted. Delani was exhausted, she was in pain, and she didn't think that she could make it much farther. There was a commotion in the distance, the sound of a horn blaring through the air. She felt it the moment that the wolves decided she was no longer worth the trouble. They fell back as she inched her way toward the orange glow of a dozen camp fires.

"There!" shouted a familiar masculine voice, the sound like a salve on a burn. "It's her!"

Cassandra was running right along side Cullen, Lilliana and Josephine coming up behind them. The smokey sound of Cassandra's voice was oddly comforting. "Thank the Maker," relief obvious in her voice, ringing almost as loudly as her concern.

_Thank _**_someone_**, Delani thought just as her well of energy ran dry. Exhaustion finally caught up with her and her legs gave out. She felt herself fall and waited to be met by the cold hard ground. Instead Delani was caught in Cullen's waiting arms. He swept her off of her feet and held her to his chest.

"I got you," He whispered, his tone full of comforting consolation and weary anxiety in equal parts. The sound of his voice was lulling, and she couldn't manage to open her eyes to watch his lips move. "You're safe now."

In the warmth of his arms it was easy to believe him. The feeling of his pauldron against her cheek was comforting, and Delani allowed herself to relax against him. Delirious, she murmured, "_Ar ian'aan ma, vhenan'ara."_ Later she would hate herself for losing consciousness in his arms, but now she didn't have it in her to care.

* * *

_Those who oppose thee _

_Shall know the wrath of heaven. _

_Field and forest shall burn, _

_The seas shall rise and devour them, _

_The wind shall tear their nations _

_From the face of the earth, _

_Lightning shall rain down from the sky, _

_They shall cry out to their false gods, _

_And find silence._

Cullen had grown so familiar with doubt throughout the course of his life. He had doubted the Circle, Marideth, the Templar order, he'd doubted himself more times than he could count, and he had doubted that Delani could have made it out of Haven with her life. It was the last of his doubts that felt the most foolish. Dalish or not, whether or not she herself believed, she was the Herald of Andraste. Delani was chosen, blessed, and that could not be so easily undone by an avalanche.

She was resting now, her eyes shut and her breathing was steady. Her injuries had already been tended to, her chest was bandaged and covered by fresh garbs. Cullen hadn't left her side since carrying her back to camp, he couldn't, not until she woke up and he was sure that she was going to be alright.

Seeing her stagger towards camp… never in his life had he felt that level of relief. His insides had been clawing itself apart all night, worry and fear sharpening their nails against the lining of his gut. And then the scout's horn blared, and he just knew that she'd retuned. The moment he'd heard the horn he had started running, sprinting in the sound's direction, trusting it to lead him to her.

His feet didn't slow until he saw her standing before a night blacked backdrop, snow upturned by her dragging feet. Delani sagged at the sound of his voice and he immediately recognized what her swaying stance signified. He'd moved in time to catch her and Cullen had been so surprised by how light she was. He'd held swords heavier than her. How could this featherlight creature carry so much weight when she barely weighed anything at all?

Now he sat beside her, watching her rest, knowing that she needed to sleep, but hoping that she would wake soon so that he could see for himself that she was going to be alright. She looked so peaceful as she slept, her features relaxed, and her body covered by warm furs. All Cullen could do was sit and wait, and admire her.

She was beautiful, he noticed not for the first time. Her cheekbones were sharp, not like Cassandra's, but pronounced in the loveliest way. Her nose was small, refined, cute as a button. The markings on her round shaped face, her _vallaslin_, were like tree branches. Leafless limbs stretching across her brow and cheekbones, and roots spreading from her lower lip down her chin in a dark crimson color. It was beautiful against the bronzy color of her skin, and distracted the eye from the light smattering of freckles that ran across her cheeks and nose. If Cullen hadn't been staring at her, he never would have noticed.

He jerked upright when he noticed her eyes start to flutter open, another wave of relief crashing over him. Finally she was waking up. She was going to be alright, he could trust that now. His hand reached for hers by its own inclination, needing to feel her skin against his, needing the reassurance that she was truly there.

She blinked several times, a pained moan sounding from her as she cradled her face in a hand. Not wanting her to try and get up, and hurt herself further, Cullen spoke to ease her back into consciousness. "Welcome back, Herald." He fought back the smile from his lips, feeling a fool for being as elated as he was that she was coming to at last.

"That's not my name," she murmured, her voice tired and pained. When she looked up at Cullen there was a slight shine of amusement in her sea green eyes, and he was overjoyed to see it. She tried to perch herself up on an elbow but immediately winced away from the pain and resigned herself to laying flat on her back.

Sighing frustratedly through her nose, she wondered, "How long have I been out?"

When she tried to wipe the sleep from her eyes Cullen realized that he was still holding her hand, and allowed her to reclaim possession of the limb before awkwardly clearing his throat and combing back his blond hair. "Not long enough," he answered. "You need to rest."

The moan that sounded from her was of agreement. Her eyes were already falling shut again, her features starting to relax. Cracking one eye open she met his gaze and wondered, "My team—"

"Made it back safely," he assured her, his tone gentle, encouraging her to fall back asleep. "You can see them once you've fully rested."

Nodding, she quietly whispered, "_Ma serannas, vhenan'ara_." After a few seconds had passed her breathing leveled and her body slacked.

And just like that she was asleep once more. That was the second time she'd spoken to him in her native tongue. Cullen watched her for a moment, wondering what she'd said to him. Maybe when she woke again he would ask her. Maybe, now that he knew she was alive and would be staying with them longer, he'd ask her to teach him.

Shaking his head, he dismissed the notion. Those were thoughts for another time. Delani needed to rest and he needed to let her rest. That was why when Mother Giselle tapped his shoulder, alerting him that the war council needed him, he left without argument. Mother Giselle would watch over Delani. She was safe now, and he had other responsibilities.

He'd check back in with her later. For now, he was needed elsewhere.

* * *

**I'd love to know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Harold—" he called after her and Delani bit back a smile.

Without turning to look at the _shemlan_ and watch him hurry up behind her, she rebuked, "That's not my name, Commander."

The feeling of his fingers gently grazing her shoulder pulled her to a stop. Delani turned to face him then, a smile on her lips as she stared up at the tall human. His nose and cheeks were rosy from the cold, his eyes a brilliant golden color under the light of day. There was concern in his expression, his brows pinched and his lips pulled slightly downward as worry found its way onto his handsome features. Was he worried for her, or for the Inquisition? Perhaps both, though it was probably only the latter; she brushed the thought away as irrelevant.

Cullen huffed, annoyed by how often she refused to be acknowledged as what he obviously believed her to be. "Fine, Lady Lavellan," he corrected himself and his eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of the smile growing on her lips. "You should not be pushing yourself so soon. Your injuries are still healing."

"Nonsense, Commander," she returned, grinning up at him to demonstrate that she was feeling fine and any concern he had about her well being was misplaced. Delani placed a hand on his bracer and felt her heart leap in her chest, summersaulting with the contact. Ignoring her body's startling reaction to touching him, she cleared her throat and continued. "I've had healers tending to me all night. I've rested, I've eaten, and I feel fine."

Releasing him from her hold, she returned her hand to her side and turned on her heel. Delani adjusted the fit of her gloves as she walked, smiling to herself when Cullen easily kept stride beside her. "At any rate," she said, her attention on making sure all of her straps were buckled and what sparse armor she was wearing was secured. "Solas knows of a place where we can regroup and rebuild. Corypheus isn't going to wait for my injuries to heal completely, and neither should we."

A sigh sounded from Cullen, defeated. He rubbed the back of his neck but he knew that she was right. Delani gave him a side long glance, a smirk playing at the edge of her mouth. When he looked down at her she ripped her eyes back from him and pointed her gaze forward.

"You're sure that you feel fine?" he asked, concern obvious in the undercurrents of his tone.

The curl at the corner of her lips completely unfurled and Delani grinned to herself. He _was_ worried about her, how cute was that? She wouldn't lie to him just to ease his concern. Honesty was important to her, and being upfront and transparent was even more so. Delani had been called many things in the past, but hard to read was not one of them.

"I'm a little sore," she admitted only to immediately amend, "but it's nothing that I can't handle." Playfully nudging his arm with her elbow, Delani teased, "I'm a big girl, Commander. I strapped my own boots and everything." before motioning his attention to her knee-high boots.

Cullen dragged a hand down his face, grumbling, "Andraste preserve me," under his breath. When he looked back at Delani there was a laugh in his eyes that didn't quite make it onto his lips. "Just be careful." It was a request but came out sounding more like an order.

She stopped and turned to look up at the tall human. Delani took a small step toward him, standing close enough to make him a bit uncomfortable but far enough to still seem respectable. She watched as his eyes dilated before contracting. He noticed her proximity but didn't know what to make of it, or whether or not he should react to it. Her smile turned peckish as she folded her arms against her bust.

Quirking an eyebrow, she challenged, "Now what fun is there to be had by being careful?"

His head shook with disappointment but the smile was finally starting to break free from under his lips. Cullen answered her question with a question. "What's more fun than being alive, my lady?"

A laugh sounded from Delani and his smile fully emerged at the sound of it. For that smile alone she would allow him to win that round. "I have my team, _vhenan'ara_. I'll be perfectly fine." She wanted to reach out to him again but didn't, uncomfortable with how she'd reacted to it before. Instead she offered him the most reassuring smile she had. "There's no need to worry."

Just as she was about to walk away again, Cullen grabbed her by the wrist. His touch was soft and easy to break, but she allowed him to gently pull her to a stop. Delani tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in her gut when they touched, knowing that it was unrequited. When he released her, she couldn't decide if she missed having his gloved fingers around her wrist, or if she was relieved to be free from warmth his touch ignited inside of her.

"_Vhenan'ara_," he repeated, testing the word, feeling it tumble gracelessly out of his mouth. His golden eyes sought hers, his eyebrows curved with curiosity. "You've called me that before. What does it mean?"

The smile on her lips was mildly panicked. She hadn't expected him to pick up on it, which had been foolish on her part. During every last one of her previous interactions with humans, they'd completely ignored her. They hadn't cared for her elvish tongue, and didn't care to learn it. But being the Herald of Adraste meant that she was no longer invisible. This was the first time that she'd been asked to translate, and of course it had to be a term of endearment that would make the Commander uncomfortable. She almost told him the meaning, if only to watch his reaction to it, but she couldn't. His embarrassment was not worth suffering her own.

Not wanting to end their conversation awkwardly, Delani answered him with a treaty. "I'll tell you what: I will tell you what _vhenan'ara_ means the day you actually address me by my name."

Dissatisfaction creased his features. "But I already called you by your name." he argued. When Delani's expression tightened in challenge, he reminded her, "Lady Lavellan. That's your name, is it not?"

The sincerity of his statement pulled another laugh out of her. Shaking her head, Delani started walking again and shouted back at him, "My _real_ name."

Relief washed over her with every step. Cullen was so professional, she doubted that he would ever address her as anything other than the titles they'd forced upon her. The closest he would come was 'Lady Lavellan' which meant that she'd be saved the embarrassment of telling him the truth. They barely knew each other to start with, she had no business calling him _vhenan'ara_. But saying it felt right and she couldn't bring herself to stop. If he ever found out its meaning, and decided that it made him uncomfortable, then she would desist. Until then she was going to have her fun.

Her team was waiting for her some distance away, ready to go on her word even though she doubted that they'd encounter any danger during their trek through the mountains. The Iron Bull, Solas, and Varric were talking; or rather, Iron Bull and Varric were joking, and Solas was quietly observing the two of them with an amused smile curling his lips. She didn't need all of them present. Solas knew the way and Delani had tracking and navigating skills, but she enjoyed the company.

The men greeted her with smiles of varying degrees. Varric was the first one to receive her, his arms held wide in welcome. "There she is, our illustrious leader."

"You ready to head out, Boss?" asked Iron Bull, a friendly smirk twisting his lips, his one good eye shining with mirth.

Delani nodded with a sigh. "More ready than you know, Bull." Allowing a small smile to spread over her mouth she admitted, "If I have to see one more healer I think I might scream."

Though he laughed, there was sincerity in Varric's eyes when he next spoke. "It's good to see you on your feet." His facial features did a good job disguising his concern with amusement. "You gave us a bit of a scare last night, Elf. Try not to make a habit out of it."

"Oh I don't know," she said with a shrug, tucking her thumbs behind her belt and standing nonchalantly, a playful smile toyed at the edges of her lips. "Now that I've had a taste of being missed, I think that maybe I should get attacked by arch demons more often."

Solas lifted a disapproving eyebrow and shook his head, a laugh spilling out of him in the form of a cough. "Perhaps not," he advised.

Laughing in agreement, Varric concurred, "He's right, Elf. You get attacked by an arch demon, _we all_ get attacked by an arch demon."

Her shoulders jumped with another careless shrug, as though it were a trivial fact and one they shouldn't have concerned themselves with. Looking down at Varric, Delani narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Pointedly, she observed, "You know, Varric, there are three of us now. You're going to have to come up with a better nickname for me than 'elf'."

The sigh that expelled from the dwarf was disheartened. "I know, I know," Varric admitted. "Elf was just a placeholder until I came up with something better."

Grin expanding over her lips, Delani quickly moved to rectify his predicament. "Oh, I have a suggestion," she said. "You should call me Razor, or Daggers."

Varric stared up at her and shook his head, his laugh was mocking, as though those were the two worst nicknames he'd ever heard. "How about Stalky or Reckless? I feel like those would be more fitting."

Narrowing her eyes, she replied, "Your words wound me, Varric."

"Oh, Varric, I've got one." Iron Bull chimed in, a mischievous smile splattered over his lips. "How about Eyes, because of her creepy big elf eyes?"

Nodding as though it were a legitimate candidate, Varric rubbed his chin and said, "It has a certain ring to it, Qunari, I'll give you that."

Looking from the stout dwarf to the hulking qunari, all Delani could do for a moment was shake her head. Waving off the conversation as though it were a swarm of flies, she tried to back out from what she'd started. "You know what, Bull? Boss is fine. Let's just stick with Boss."

It was Solas who spoke up in argument. "I don't know, _da'len_. Iron Bull might be on to something." His eyes were glittering with mischief.

"Not you too, Solas," she exclaimed, exasperated. Waving at the other two men, she stated, "I expected it from these two, but not from you." When all three of them started snickering, Delani playfully narrowed her eyes. Her expression tightened with pseudo distaste, and she grumbled, "I saved the whole lot of you yesterday. You should all be nicer to me."

Tightly clutching his staff, Solas's expression was light with amusement even as he helped them move on from their repartee. "We're losing daylight, _da'len_. We should be moving."

Varric looked up at her with a shrug. "Baldy's right."

Rolling her eyes, Delani turned on her heel and waved for them to follow. "When isn't he?" she asked before sucking in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. An excited grin spread over her face before she said, "Alright men, let's move out."

* * *

Cullen watched as Delani and the others left the camp, setting out in front of the rest of them to mark the safest and quickest path through the mountains. There was an ongoing conflict of emotions waging inside of him. His earlier interaction with the Herald left him feeling… for lack of a better word, bubbly. He felt a smile hiding just under the surface at the mere thought of her. But he was also concerned that she was pushing herself too hard too soon, and that was preventing his smile from unraveling.

He knew Delani was right. They needed to find a place to rebuild, a place that was theirs, where they could grow and expand. Solas claimed to know of such a place, and them going ahead of the main group was only logical. Yet all Cullen could really focus on was the fact that she'd nearly died. She'd avoided the avalanche by some miracle, and had made it back to camp by the Maker's grace. Delani should've been resting, at least for another day.

Too wrapped up in his thoughts, when a mage came to stand beside him, the suddenness of his appearance surprised Cullen. "She's resilient," Dorian commented, his eyes shining with curiosity as he watched the small group fade into the distance. Without looking at Cullen, he finished, "I'll give her that."

After everything he'd seen it was easy for Cullen to agree with him. "That she is," he replied, turning around to head back into the encampment and make sure that everyone was prepared to start moving within the hour.

He gave Dorian a sideways glance when the mage kept pace beside him. A part of him was pleased to see the that the other man had stuck around, a larger part of him was surprised because of the same. Yes, he was Tevinter, but he was also different. Cullen couldn't have explained it if he tried. He didn't trust the mage, per say, he just didn't quite distrust him either.

Accepting a report from a soldier as he walked by, Cullen commented, "I see you're still with us, Ser Pavus."

He could hear the smile in Dorian's voice when he replied. "Oh, do try not to sound so disappointed, Commander. It is horribly unbecoming."

Cullen allowed the corner of his mouth to curl into a half smile, his gaze still on the report as he read it through. When he looked up at Dorian his expression was schooled to seriousness once more. Tapping the report against his leg, he admitted, "I would like to thank you for your help. Your arrival, your warning, it made all of the deference."

"It did, didn't it?" Dorian returned, twirling the tip of his mustache with an attitude both fitting of and mocking his station. After a second or two passed, his haughty mien dissipated and Dorian's shoulders slacked at bit. "Though it is difficult to acknowledge my astounding sense of timing when so many were lost."

His expression turned contemplative for a moment before he looked up to meet Cullen's gaze once again. "Chancellor Roderick, to name one specifically. He didn't make it through the night."

Cullen clenched his jaw, unsurprised. Roderick's injuries had been grave. The fact that he had been able to show them the path, and made it as far as he did, was surprising enough. "That's a shame," he replied, sincerity in his voice. He and the chancellor might have had words on numerous occasions, but he was a good man undeserving of the fate he'd been dealt. "We all owe him our lives. Even if he didn't believe in the Herald, he really pulled through when it mattered."

Dorian nodded in both agreement and understanding before he said, "Ah, yes. Perhaps he thought it best to err on the side of caution when dealing out hefty titles like 'Herald of Andraste'. Especially to a dalish elf."

Feeling himself become defensive over Delani, Cullen took a slight step forward. His eyes were narrowed, his brow furrowed with displeasure, his lips sneering slightly as he demanded, "Do you have a problem with her being an elf, Ser Pavus?"

"Me?" he pressed a hand to his chest as though there were someone else he could possibly be speaking to. "Maker no." Dorian retreated back a step, reclaiming the space that Cullen had stolen from him. Once Cullen had relaxed, allowing them both to fall back into casual conversation, Dorian explained himself. "I don't know her well enough to attest to her worthiness one way or the other."

He looked away from Cullen then, slowly scanning over the camp and taking in the sight of all of them preparing to move on and follow after Delani. When his green eyes met Cullen's again, a small smile twitched at the edges of his lips. With a shrug he said, "From what I've seen, Lady Lavellan seems capable, courageous, determined, and strong. And perhaps that's all that she needs to be."

Dorian smiled at the surprised expression that took Cullen's features. "_We _don't need a Herald," he then gestured to the soldiers, Haven's towns people that had left with them, the people that they'd picked up along the way. Also looking at them all, he finished, "_they _do. All we need is a leader, and she appears to be filling that role quite nicely. Don't you agree?"

Thinking over Dorian's words, Cullen returned his attention to the report in his hand. He didn't bother rereading it, he was just stalling as he considered the truth of the mage's statement. The Inquisition needed a leader. While its four current leaders were all capable, their opinions often clashed, their methods conflicted, and most times it was difficult to come to an easy consensus. They needed a single person to turn to, to make the final call and instruct them on how best to use their resources.

Delani had already had a taste of leadership and had handled it admirably. She accessed every situation before deciding how best to act, and which resources to use. They already looked to her for many things. Unwittingly, she had fallen into the role and, unconsciously, they had welcomed her initiative. If he was going to be honest, she was already their leader, all that was left was the formality and ceremony of making it so. It was something that he was going to have to discuss with the others, though Cullen didn't see why any of them would disagree with him.

Having stalled long enough, Cullen looked up from the report and met Dorian's expectant gaze again. Rubbing the back of his neck, he finally answered, "I suppose I do."

The smile that pulled at Dorian's lips was of self-satisfaction, which then turned departing. Inclining his head, the mage dismissed himself. "I've stolen enough of your precious time, Commander. There is still much to be done."

Cullen nodded in understanding and appreciation. As the Tevinter mage turned to leave, he said, "Thank you again, Ser Pavus."

The other man walked backwards for a bit, a grin on his lips and his arms spread in a haughty display of conceit. "Gratitude and recognition, two things that I don't receive nearly as often as I should. I think I might stick around a bit longer for that alone." He then turned back around and continued on his way.

A short chuckle expelled from Cullen as he watched Dorian depart. Shaking his head, Cullen started toward the far edge of camp, where he knew the women would be. Dorian had been right in his observation of Delani's adeptness for leadership, and Cullen knew that they would recognize it as well. It was painfully obvious that the Inquisition needed a voice and a face, a person standing at point. It was just as obvious that that person needed to be Delani. If they could agree on anything, he knew that it would be on this.


	3. Chapter 3

When Solas said that he knew of a place where they could regroup and rebuild, this was not what she'd been expecting. Skyhold was a fortress, it was a wonder, and it was exactly what they needed. There was room for everyone, for the soldiers, the scholars, the medics, and everyone in-between. There was so much to explore, and even more to do. Often times Delani would stand overwhelmed and undecided on whether she wanted to help unload the steady flow of incoming supplies, or if she wanted to familiarize herself with Skyhold's grounds.

After concluding that she could both explore and help unpack, she assisted Dennett in getting the stables ready for the exhausted and temperamental mounts. She shouldn't have been as surprised as she was to discover that the human Horse Master had been able to rescue every last one of her mounts. The man was dedicated to his job, and she appreciated him for it. She didn't know what they would do without him. Most weren't bred for the mountain air, Dennett explained to her as she laid out the bedding. If they didn't tend to the creatures properly, they risked losing them.

Once the stables were ready, she helped Dennett get all of the steeds into their respectable spaces. A smile coiled her lips as the large creatures quickly settled in, as if they knew that this was their home and that they could finally relax. Delani walked through the stables, making sure that all of the mounts had everything they needed, before stopping in front of her favorite one. Cornelius, the red hart, stepped up to the gate and huffed in her face in greeting.

Laughing at the magnificent creature, she stroked the side of his face up to his ear. He was an enormous thing, with a temper that made most others give him a wide berth. When it came to Delani, though, he was gentle and calm. They'd formed a special bond, and he didn't throw her even under threat of being mauled by a bear. Halla were intelligent steeds, smarter than horses and even most children. Cornelius was no halla, but sometimes he was too smart for his own good.

She stole an apple from the barrel behind her, and checked to make sure that Dennett's attention was elsewhere before giving Cornelius the treat. The hart quickly nabbed it from her open palm, knowing that the treat was their little secret. He scarfed it down quickly before nudging her for another. Patting his nose, Delani murmured, "That's a good boy," a smile on her face and a laugh in her voice.

A somberness threatened to bud inside of her. Cornelius was the closest thing that she had to home. He reminded her of her clan's halla, and everything that reminded Delani even slightly of her clan had the tendency to make her sad. Giving Cornelius another loving stroke, she didn't turn to Dennett when she asked, "Did you need anything else, Dennett?"

The human groaned as he lifted a sack of seed. Voice strained under the weight of burlap sack, he replied, "Not at the moment." He moved the seed into the corner of the stables, near the barrels that they would be poured into, and patted his hands clean on his trousers. Offering Delani a grateful simper, he stated, "Thank you for your assistance, Herald."

She returned his smile with a polite, yet pleading, one of her own. "Please, Dennett, call me Delani." All of this 'Herald of Andraste' nonsense was getting old. If she was going to be spending much time in the stables, like she was planning on, he could at the very least feel comfortable enough to call her by her first name.

The expression on his features was acknowledging of her request but respectfully declining the familiarity. Without further addressing her statement, he moved their attention to all of mounts accommodating the stables. "These beasts can finally relax. 'Bout time too, they were getting bite-y."

Delani hummed in understanding. Their travels had been long and tiring, by the end of it _everyone_ was feeling bite-y. Returning her gaze to Cornelius, she rubbed his neck as she asked, "Do you mind if I stay a bit longer?" She glanced over her shoulder to catch Dennett's reaction, only to have the hart nuzzle her ear. Giggling away from him, she pushed Cornelius's nose away from her face and finished her thought. "I haven't brushed Cornelius in a long time, and I think we both miss it."

The human's expression was amused as he regarded her and the mount. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he casually shrugged his shoulders before admitting, "Normally I'd be more than happy for you to stay and brush him down," his expression turned serious as he finished his statement. "But I think Cassandra wants to speak with you."

Surprised, Delani glanced over her shoulder to where a group was starting to form. Curiosity and dread started to take root in her gut. She could feel that something was about to happen, but she didn't know what. The uncertainty was making her uncomfortable. Stepping towards the stable's exit, she stared a little while longer at the amassing crowd.

Without looking back at the Horse Master, she wondered, "Do you have any idea what she wants to speak with me about?"

"I'm not privy to that information, my lady," he answered, his tone only slightly apologetic; if only for the fact that he didn't have the information she was asking after. "I'm only here for the horses."

A sigh spilled from her, her discomfort growing with the feeling of foreboding. She knew that something was about to happen, and also that she couldn't avoid whatever it was. The group gathering on Skyhold's lower grounds was already double what it had been just moments ago. Answers lied within that crowd, as did something else. Setting her jaw, Delani decided to get whatever was about to happen over with.

"Thank you, Dennett," she said, "I'll speak to you another time."

He mumbled a reply and she stepped forward, pushing herself towards the growing commotion. A part of her insisted that she turn tail and run for the hills, whatever was about to happen she probably wanted nothing to do with. A larger part of her was intrigued. What did Cassandra want to speak with her about? Why was the crowd forming? What was about to happen, and why did it feel like it involved her?

Delani quickly found Cassandra. She was accompanied by Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine. They were in the middle of a discussion before Cassandra noticed her approach and waved her over, bringing her to the others' attention as well. They shared a knowing look that made Delani nervous, before dispersing before she could join their circle.

As Delani came to stand in front of Cassandra she tried to convince herself that the look in the other woman's eyes wasn't sinister. Cassandra noticed the wary glance that Delani gave the crowd and said by way of explanation, "They arrive daily from every settlement of the region. Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage."

Delani didn't reply and Cassandra started walking. Sticking closely to the Seeker's side, Delani divided her attention between the purpose of the gathering crowd below and listening to what Cassandra had to say. Since arriving in Skyhold everyone had been preoccupied settling in. Delani hadn't really interacted with Cassandra or the others, and now she felt out of the loop because of it. She was missing something, on the outside looking in, waiting for something to happen. The whole thing made her uncomfortable.

"If word has reached these people, it will have reached the Elder One. We have the walls and the numbers to put up a fight here, but this threat is far beyond the war we anticipated." She paused at the top of the stairwell, looking to Delani with a hint of admiration in her brown eyes. There was something more there too, wheels turning, plots unfolding. When she spoke, her tone was casual, but Delani could tell that Cassandra was up to something, and that she wouldn't like it.

Cassandra glanced down at Delani's marked hand when she finished her thought, "But we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus, what drew you to him."

Delani also looked down at her hand. The mark ran like a scar over her palm, the green glow a constant reminder that her life would never be the same. She used to be a hunter for a Dalish clan. People had always turned to her for direction, but this was different. Before she was just an elf among elves, now she was the Herald of Andraste and people looked to her for guidance and approval. They regarded her as though she were more than herself, and Delani didn't like it.

Andraste, the Maker, the Creators, what did any of them matter? She wasn't chosen by some higher power to be something greater. She was just a woman with the misfortune of having a terrible sense of timing. People followed her because of their own misinterpretation of unfortunate events. The anchor was the work of magic, not divine intervention, and yet superstition came more naturally to these people than logic.

Without looking up from the glowing scar running across her palm, at Cassandra, Delani rebuked, "He came for this and now it's useless to him, so he wants me dead; that's it." There logic, why was it so hard of a concept for people to grasp? Why make her more than what she was when the truth was so much easier to understand?

The look Cassandra gave her was sympathetic, but the shine in her eyes revealed just how little she believed Delani's words. She turned and started walking again, giving Delani a sideways glance to make sure that she was still following closely at her side. "The anchor has power, but its not why you're still standing here." she said, starting up the stairs for the center building in Skyhold's courtyard.

As she climbed the stairs, Cassandra explained, sincerity in her words, confidence in her tone, "Your decision let us heal the sky, your determination brought us out of Haven. You are the creature's rival because of what you did. We all know it."

Leliana was waiting at the center platform with a gorgeously crafted great sword held reverently in her hands. Her head was bowed respectfully, a twinkle in her eye that Delani came to understand to mean that she knew far more than she was letting on. The nerves that had started to bud in her gut finally sprouted, fully blooming and anxiously weighing down in her stomach.

She glanced back at Cassandra, hoping that the other woman would save her from whatever it was that was about to happen, but the look the Seeker gave her was telling. She was behind this, or at least had a hand in it. Delani wouldn't be saved, this was happening and she was expected to play a part.

"The Inquisition requires a leader, the one who has already been leading it." said Cassandra, an encouraging smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She was regarding Delani with such confidence, such faith, such certainty, and it terrified her. Without the slightest bit of doubt, she stated, "You."

Delani's wide eyes moved from Cassandra down to the crowd that had formed on the lower grounds. They were all looking up at her. Soldiers, pilgrims, workers, and merchants, people of every background, every upbringing, all looking to her with something resembling awe in their eyes. This wasn't right, she didn't deserve this. Yes, she'd closed some rifts, killed some bad people, resolved some conflicts, but nothing that truly merited _this_.

Swallowing hard, she fought hard not to panic and high tail it as far from Skyhold as possible. Could she be the inquisitor? Her, an elf? Snapping her attention back at Cassandra, she had to make sure that the _shemlan's_ head was still on straight. "You're offering this to an elf?" Delani asked, demanded more like, knowing that this respectable position would normally never be offered to someone like her. "Are you quite sure you know what you're doing?"

The smile that lifted Cassandra's features was reassuring. Wordlessly, she admitted that much thought had gone into this decision, and it wasn't one that they made lightly. She and the others had likely reviewed all candidates and this was the best outcome that they'd come to. The position was being offered to Delani not only because there was no one else, but because they felt that there was no one else more deserving of it. Delani thought that they were insane.

"I would be terrified handing this power to anyone. But I believe it is the only way." She walked toward Leliana, trying to usher Delani ever closer to the blade. Cassandra's features were stern with resolve and warm with reassurance. Delani was not in this alone, but only she could accept this responsibility. "They'll follow you. To them being an elf shows how far you've risen, how it must have been by Andraste's hand."

Delani tentatively approached Leliana and the blade, warily holding its gaze as if eyeing a high dragon. She couldn't see the difference. Taking that blade felt equivalent to poking a dragon and Delani felt disinclined to do either. Her entire body was shaking with foreboding, uncertainty, skepticism. Could she do this?

She barely heard the woman when Cassandra started speaking again. "What it means to you, how you chose to lead us, that is for you alone to determine."

Her stomach was rolling, anxiety, nerves, and paralyzing fear keeping her from moving for or away from the sword, from the title that came with taking it. What would it mean to be Inquisitor? What would change that hadn't already been changed? Delani unconsciously reached for the carving knife always strapped to her side. She felt the worn hilt, worried on the old leather. She could help by being Inquisitor, not just the people in general, but _her _ people. Elves were mistreated, disregarded, esteemed as less than human, no more than beasts. Yet here she stood, being offered the position of Inquisitor, becoming more than anyone could have ever imagined.

Elves across Thedas needed someone to fight for them, to remind the rest of the world that their lives mattered. She couldn't do that as a hunter. Being just another elf wouldn't protect her clan from the constant threat of being attacked by ignorant _shemlan. _Fading back into the background wouldn't help change the lives of millions for the better. To not take that blade would be to put herself in front of the needs of countless lives.

Feeling the carving knife's hilt helped to remind her that her father would have wanted her to be more, to be better. If he were here he'd tell her to take the blade, to be the difference. He'd look at her with pride in his chestnut colored eyes, and remind her of the faith he'd had in her abilities. She could be the change she wanted to see; she could make the difference. She could do this, she _had_ to do this.

Her hand lifted from the carving knife's hilt, slowly reaching out to the blade still held in offering by Leliana. Grinding her teeth, she forced herself to stop shaking. Her life was going to be changed by this, _again_. To think that merely months ago she'd just been a hunter, leading only her clan's hunters. Her biggest concern had been keeping away bandits and making sure the clan had enough to eat. Simpler times. Now she was to be Inquisitor, and she would rule armies.

Delani took the blade and was surprised by its weight, the weight of this decision, the weight of this title. Taking a deep breath, she admired the shine of the sleek blade, the dragon that wrapped around the hilt and danced over the metal. It was a gorgeous sword, deserving of a queen, of an Inquisitor.

Without looking away from the sword, she vowed, "I will lead us against Corypheus, and I will be an ambassador. I am an elf standing for Thedas, the Inquisition is for all."

Cassandra came up behind her, pulling Delani's attention with her. "Wherever you lead us." she respectfully replied before approaching the edge of the platform. Looking toward the mesmerized group of onlookers, Cassandra's booming voice wondered, "Have the people been told?"

A smile hinted at Josephine's features, proud and prolific as she loudly responded, "They have. And soon, the world!"

Satisfied with the other woman's answer, Cassandra moved her attention to Cullen. "Commander, will they follow?"

The look on Cullen's handsome features left little room for doubt. Turning around to face the crowd, he sought to quickly erase what little uncertainty remained on whether or not Delani would be accepted. "Inquisition, will you follow?" The crowd cheered. "Will you fight?" Their cries grew louder. "Will we Triumph?" The voices gathered in the courtyard were deafening.

With a grin on his lips, Cullen unsheathed his sword and pointed it toward Delani. His confidence was unwavering, his trust unbending as he shouted over the boom of hollering voices, "Your leader, your Herald, your Inquisitor!"

_Well, that settles that, I suppose_, thought Delani before lifting her blade into the air, their cheering succeeding what she'd assumed to be their maximum decibel. These people believed in her, had faith in her. They thought she was chosen by some divine force, when the truth was so much easier to grasp. And none of that truly mattered. Chosen or not, holy or not, Delani was the Inquisitor now, and the whole world was about to change because of it. She only hoped that she didn't fail and get every last one of them killed.

* * *

There was an energy in Skyhold, radiating from the people who now inhabited it. An excitement and eagerness that had not been there before. Change was upon them and they were no longer afraid to meet it head on. They had a leader, the Inquisition had a face, and she was beautiful.

Maker was she beautiful. Did she even know how beautiful she was? Cullen stared at the woman, blade in hand and pointed upwards in show. Her auburn hair was being gently blown back by the wind, as if the Maker himself was caressing her lovely features. Her clay colored skin glowed like bronze under the sunlight, sea green eyes shining with trepidation and forced confidence.

For a moment he'd been afraid that she wouldn't accept the title, that she would refuse to become Inquisitor. And could he really blame her if she had? Being Inquisitor meant something life changing. It meant she could now dine with kings and queens, that she could command armies, it meant that she was now an indisputable authority that demanded nothing short of respect.

After a moment of understandable contemplation Delani had taken the sword, and Cullen felt a wave of relief wash over him. As Inquisitor she became their leader, but it also meant that she was staying. He didn't know why it was so important to him that she did. Truly anyone would be safer far from the Inquisition's battles, and she'd be standing at the forefront of them all, but if she stayed it meant that he could get to know her better, and Cullen desperately wanted to get to know her better.

Not ever in his life had he met a woman so capable. She fought with vigor, lead with confidence, and had this smile that made his knees weak. If anyone could do the role of Inquisitor credit, it was she. She would command armies, his soldiers, him, and the thought made him feel nothing but a foreign resounding calm. Knight-Commander Meredith had mislead him, abused her powers, dehumanized her charges, but he _knew_ that Delani would be different.

Delani was nothing like Meredith, she was more than Meredith could have ever dreamed to be. She was more than the Herald of Andraste, and Cullen had nothing but respect and admiration for her. As the elf woman descended from the stairs, great sword sheathed at her side so that the people could see, Cullen couldn't help but acknowledge that perhaps his feelings were a bit more than respect and admiration.

Would it be so farfetched for him to be romantically attracted to Delani? _Yes_, he decided. She was the Inquisitor now. He was the commander of her forces, her advisor. Professionalism demanded that he respect her as his superior and not regard her as a potential lover. He wouldn't have bedded Meredith, after all. But that comparison was lacking, which also helped to further his own point. While Meredith had been an older, and more experienced, woman, at her best she was also half the woman that Delani was.

After everything that Cullen had been through, after everything he'd done, all the vile things he'd thought, he didn't deserve someone like Delani. He choked down the thought, he was no longer the man he'd once been, he deserved more than he gave himself credit for.

Why was he even thinking about this? Entertaining the thought was pointless. Delani was her own woman. She could decide for herself what she wanted, and he knew that it would never be him.

She was proud of her people, and cared so dearly about being an elf. Getting involved with a human was frowned upon by her kind. Even if she could someday see him as more than just an advisor, more than the Commander, would she even want to pursue anything romantic with him?

When a pit started to form in his stomach he shoved away the thoughts and turned away from the dangerous trail they would lead him. He was content where he was, and with their relationship being what it was. That contentment probably wouldn't last him long, but for now it was enough.

He watched as she accepted congratulations and praise left and right. She was smiling, the expression on her face uncertain and hesitant, though no one else seemed to notice. He could understand her trepidations, but he also knew that if anyone could do this it was her. Cullen wanted to congratulate her himself, to make sure that she knew that he had faith in her abilities, but she was preoccupied and he had other things to attend to.

There were a million things left to do. The main hall needed to be cleared of rubble, the battlements needed to be fortified and manned, guard rotations needed to be established, and the surrounding area needed to be thoroughly mapped. Delani now had a trove full of new responsibilities that she would need to attend to as well. They were both terribly busy people, and stealing a moment of her time would've been more selfish than professional.

Yet when Delani approached him, smile on her full lips, he couldn't help but feel grateful that she'd pulled herself from the horde of gawkers to speak with him. The short woman stood before him, a laugh in her eyes that he'd become so accustomed to seeing. The smirk at the corner of her lips was teasing and Cullen found himself charmed by the very sight of it.

"Commander," she said, mischief in her voice, playfulness in her eyes.

Cullen couldn't help the smile that unearthed on his lips. Bowing his head in greeting, he respectfully returned, "Inquisitor."

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Delani schooled her features to faux-seriousness and cleared her throat. "I have a favor to ask of you, _vhenan'ara_."

The sound of his given nickname made his heart jump in his chest. He wanted to know its meaning so badly, but couldn't bring himself to submit to the terms of her agreement. The lack of decorum was disrespectful, and all that Cullen had for her was respect. Knowing that she wouldn't reveal the meaning to him today, he eagerly replied instead, "Name it."

"The next time the four of you decide that you want to make a life altering decision," she quirked a semi-scolding eyebrow, a finger tapping against her bicep as she regarded him, "and it's _my_ life that you'll be altering, please run it by me first."

She glanced back at the crowd that had only just started to disperse. Without looking back at him, Delani grumbled, "I would have appreciated a little forewarning before stepping into all of _that_."

A laugh sounded from Cullen. She was right of course. Forcing her blindly into that situation, while tactful, was also inconsiderate. He, Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine had put her on the spot, forcing her answer.

Trying, and failing, to wipe the small smile from his lips, Cullen replied, "I'll take it under advisement, Inquisitor, but I make no promises."

Delani pursed her lips, dissatisfied with his answer. Narrowing her eyes into playful sharpness, she observed, "You must really dislike my name, Commander."

His smile spread widely across his lips. Resting his hands on the pommel of the sword on his hip, he rebuked, "You know, for a woman who hates titles being thrown around, you seem fairly quick to avoid using my name as well."

"That's fair." she conceded with a slight nod. After a second her smile returned, brighter than before, taunting him in a way that reminded him of his eldest sister. Arching an eyebrow that challenged him to dispute her next statement, she said, "But you seem to prefer me calling you Commander over Cullen."

Before he could respond one way or the other, her smile turned wolfish and she inserted, "It does have a nice ring of authority to it, I must admit."

"Inquisitor!" Someone shouted from the upper courtyard, beckoning Delani's attention.

She looked over her shoulder to find Cassandra waving for her to come. Sighing, Delani shook her head and looked at the ground for a second. Cullen wondered what she was thinking about, what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. When she looked back at him the smile was back in her eyes, feigned as annoyance.

"Inquisitor for five minutes and I'm already being put to work." She offered him a departing smile before excusing herself from their conversation. "I'll speak to you later, Cullen."

He nodded, allowing her to leave his presence without protest, though he did secretly wish for more time in her company. "Inquisitor," said Cullen by way of goodbye. He watched as she turned to climb the steps and meet with Cassandra.

There was a confidence to her stride, her steps cocksure and lithe. Delani Lavellan was a woman of merit, and he was glad that she'd had the misfortune of being sent to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Everything that had brought them to this point had happened for a reason. She was the Herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor, and nations would bow at her feet. Cullen was proud to be a part of this movement, and was honored to serve a woman such as she.

A soldier came up to him, report in hand, snatching him from his thoughts. Cullen accepted the report with a sigh. There was work to be done. There was _always_ work to be done.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a resounding ache that started at the back of his skull and pulsed throughout the rest of his body, throbbing, spreading like ripples in a pool of water. Sleep had come with some difficulty the previous night, and what little sleep he'd gotten was restless and short lived. The lack of adequate rest left his muscles feeling sore, his body drained, and his temper especially short fused.

Life would not wait for him and neither would his duties. So Cullen had abandoned all attempts at sleep and had returned to work before even the sun dared show its face. His very bones resisted full cooperation, and still he had managed to get a lot done already. Somedays the lyrium withdraw was unbearable, leaving him unable to get out of bed. The memories would consume him and he would be back in that tower, back in the Void. He could hear the screams all over again, could see the death.

His every muscle felt tight. His bones felt like they needed to be popped, but even after every knuckle had been cracked the discomfort remained. This was not his worst day, he could persevere. There were men and women looking to him for direction, there were things that still needed to be done. He could bear his pain in silence, ignore it, allow it to go unnoticed like he had many times before. He just pitied the soldiers that chose this day to not perform their duties to the standard he typically demanded from them. Today was not the day to upset him, unfortunately it also meant that today would be the day with the most mistakes made.

_Andraste give me patience_. He had a league long list of things that needed to be done before the day's end, and not enough time to get them all done. Wiping the pinch from his furrowed eyebrows, Cullen sucked in a deep breath and tried to refocus on the task at hand. The only way he was going to get all of this done was by properly delegating each item on the list.

There was a constant flow of soldiers rotating from his side, taking his orders and hurrying to complete them. Before long Cullen was falling back into step with his duties, relearning the rhythm of things; since withdraw always seemed to abduct his ability to properly multitask.

Signing the bottom of a report, he handed it back to the soldier that had given it to him and instructed them to return it to the sender. His attention was pulled from the soldier's replying salute, over their shoulder to where the Tevinter mage was approaching him. There was a smirk toying at the corners of Dorian's lips, barely hidden behind his neatly maintained mustache.

Cullen let out a long sigh, and fought back the amusement that was already starting to spark inside of him. He and the mage had only spoken on a few different occasions, but Cullen had seen that look enough times to know that nothing good would come of the conversation that they were about to have.

Dorian walked with an arrogant saunter, knowing that he was drawing gazes and not caring that some of those gazes were disgusted. He approached Cullen's work station and leaned casually against it. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, and a rolled up piece of parchment paper was held in his hand in nonchalant offering.

"I've a message for you," he stated, his tone ever glibful, the sparkle in his green eyes full of delighted roguishness. Dorian wiggled the parchment between his fingers, goading Cullen to take it. "Straight from our spy master herself."

When Cullen reached for the message he was relieved that Dorian didn't snatch it away like he'd half expected him to. He unrolled the paper and, as he read over the message, asked, "You're delivering messages now, Ser Pavus?" Glancing up past his brow to meet Dorian's impish gaze, Cullen commented, "Your style is a bit flashier than the people usually under Leliana's employ."

"It's a curse," Dorian agreed with a regrettable sigh, "to be a handsome as I. I'd tell you that there is no such thing as too much attention but, alas, it would be a lie."

Cullen shook his head, rolling his eyes at the other man's outrageous behavior. Feeling proud of himself for pulling the desired reaction out of Cullen, Dorian laughed before he explained the truth behind his purpose. "I needed to stretch my legs a bit. Our spy master's squawking crows can get a bit grating after too long. I also hoped to speak to the Inquisitor."

Pulling his attention from Cullen, Dorian gave the lower courtyard a thorough look before glancing back at the Commander. Quirking a curious eyebrow, he wondered, "You haven't, by any chance, seen her about; have you?"

He shook his head in answer. Cullen had been busy working, too involved in getting through the long list of things to be done to even think of anything else. Now that Dorian mentioned Delani, he tried to think of whether or not he'd seen her. Distracted by work or not, busy as he was, if Delani had crossed his path he would have remembered it.

Skyhold was enormous, with countless places to hide, even so there were a few places Cullen knew Delani visited more frequently than others. Thinking of such a place, he suggested, "Have you checked with Solas? She spends a great deal of time speaking with him."

Dorian's immaculately kept eyebrows shot toward his hairline. Tilting his head with intrigue, the mage wondered, "Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Commander?"

Taken aback by Dorian's question, Cullen shook his head and blinked hard. Jealous? What in the Maker's perfect plan did he have to be jealous about? "What?" he coughed, feeling heat start to burn under his cheeks and on the round tips of his ears.

"No," he said too quickly, only further validating Dorian's accusation. He stumbled over his own words as he tried to amend the mess the mage had turned him into. "I was just making an observation—"

The expression on Dorian's tanned features was teasing. His smirk was devilish, his eyes alight with a taunting laugh that didn't quite make it out of him. "Oh, you're blushing," the other man cooed as though Cullen were a small, helpless animal. Smirk growing into an all out grin, Dorian continued to relentlessly tease him. "Someone alert the masses. The commander of the Inquisition has a crush."

Narrowing his eyes dangerously at the other man, Cullen growled in warning. "I will end you, Pavus."

A boisterous laugh sounded from Dorian, discrediting Cullen's threat. Shrugging off Cullen's glare, he gave the Commander's shoulder a friendly pat before rebuking, "I should be so lucky."

Cullen shook his head and sighed again. He rubbed his temple, fighting back the migraine that had unsurprisingly worsened with the mage's arrival. Eyes firmly clasped shut, he sucked in a long deep breath before reopening his eyes and returning to the purpose of Dorian's visitation.

"I have not seen the Inquisitor yet today," he informed him, maintaining an appearance of professionalism that only served to deepen Dorian's smirk. Narrowing his eyes at the other man, Cullen finished, "If that changes I will be sure to let her know that you wish to speak with her."

Grinning, Dorian replied, "Would you please?" To the sharp look that his tone earned him, Dorian pushed himself off of Cullen's work station and gave him a small smile. With a flippant wave of his hand, he laughed, "Do try not to overwork yourself, Commander." and left Cullen to tend to the rest of his duties.

Resting his fists on the table before him, Cullen's knuckles gave his weight purchase as he tried to calm the pain pulsating through his head. Each throb was like a roll of thunder, and he grit his teeth as all he could do was wait for it to pass. Before he knew it, there was another soldier at his side, with another report in need of a signature, and another order needed to be handed out.

He lifted himself back up and accepted the report. Just like that, Cullen stepped back into flow of things and returned to work. Before he knew it, an hour had already passed, and he had checked several items off of the day's itinerary.

To one of the soldiers standing at his side, he instructed, "Send men to scout the area. We need to know what's out there."

They replied with a salute and a militant, "Yes sir!" before turning to do as they were told.

It took exactly half a second for the empty space to become occupied once again. "Commander, soldiers have been assigned temporary quarters."

"Very good," Cullen replied, nodding in acceptance of the verbal report. He quickly moved on to the next order of business, hoping to get through at least half of his list before hunger demanded that he take a break. "I'll need an update on the armory as well."

He felt the soldier still standing at his side, lingering as though he'd been given expressed permission to dally. Giving the man a hard look, Cullen clarified, "Now!"

The soldier scampered off like a kicked cat, and Cullen watched him leave only to have his attention pulled to Delani. The woman was steadily approaching, a smile on her lips as turned her head and watched the berated soldier run to go fulfill his orders.

His heart swelled at the sight of her, nerves prickling at his gut. She was dressed casually, her clothes of Dalish make. The fabric hugged her slight frame and accentuated her feminine colors were earthy, shades of green and brown that brought out not only the lovely color of her skin, but the brilliant shine of her sea green eyes, and the auburn of her hair. She looked ethereal, and he was breathless.

Delani returned her attention to him, her smile bigger now as she'd closed the distance remaining between them. Holding her hands behind her back she looked over the table in front of him, peeking at the million things that still needed to be done.

Feeling himself start to blush, Cullen cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck before also looking down at the table. Remembering that she was now his superior, he took the opportunity to debrief her on how he was progressing. "We set up as best we could at Haven. But could never prepare for an arch demon, or whatever it was. With some warning we might have—"

A melodic laugh sounded from Delani, ripping his attention back to her. She met his gaze, an eyebrow quirked in scolding, and wondered, "Do you ever sleep?"

He couldn't bring himself to be bothered by her comment when it was accompanied by that smile. Refusing to validate her question with an answer, he continued, "If Corypheus strikes again we might not be able to withdraw. And I wouldn't want to."

Cullen thought about what happened at Haven, how unprepared they had been. He hadn't expected an attack, at least not one of that scale. People payed for that mistake with their lives, and it was not a mistake that he would be making a second time. Tightening his fists with determination, he said, "We must be ready. Work on Skyhold is underway. Guard rotations established, we should have everything on course within the week. We will not run from here, Inquisitor."

"Delani," she corrected, a goading laugh in her green eyes. "Say it with me, Commander; Del-an-ee."

Refusing to submit so easily, Cullen met her part way, "Lady Lavellan."

After sighing in disappointment, she hummed, accepting the update as satisfactory. Looking around at the bustling lower courtyard, Delani absently wondered, "How many were lost?"

"Most of our people made it to Skyhold." he assured her, noticing the somberness that was darkening her beautiful eyes. She was taking every lost life personally, as though their deaths were her fault alone. Cullen couldn't allow her to think like that. They'd made it out of Haven, so many people still had their lives, and that was largely in thanks to her.

Holding her gaze, he observed, "It could have been worse. Moral was low, but has improved greatly since you took the role of Inquisitor."

A scoff sounded from her at that. Delani shook her head, her eyes wide with wariness. He could tell with a look what she was thinking. It was another title she didn't feel she deserved, and she couldn't have been more wrong.

"Inquisitor Lavellan?" she wiped a hand down her face before rubbing her fingers into her eyes. "It sounds strange, don't you think?"

He offered her an encouraging smile before replying, "Not at all."

Delani scoffed again, her eyebrow arched with curiosity, "Is that the official response?"

His smile grew when he shrugged. "I suppose it is."

Straightening his stance, Cullen perched his hands on the pommel of his sword as he regarded her. He could understand her uncertainty, and could appreciate that it would take time for her to fully accept her new role, but he also knew that there truly was none more deserving.

Making sure the sincerity he felt could be heard in his voice, he said, "But it's the truth. We needed a leader and you have proven yourself."

"Thank you, Cullen," she replied, a lack of conviction in her tone, even if she did appear to be grateful for his words. Shuffling her feet, Delani suddenly appeared a touch nervous. Her eyes met his quickly before breaking again, and he felt his curiosity grow at the sight of her strange behavior.

Wringing her hands, Delani cautiously started, "Our escape from Haven," she glanced off to the side, as though she were having a hard time holding his gaze. Rolling her shoulders she straightened her spine and forced her eyes to meet his before continuing. "It was close. I'm relieved that you—that so many made it out."

This uncertainty, her nervousness, it was completely out of her character as he knew it. Delani was comprised mostly of snark and secondly by sass. She did not wilt from an opportunity to make a joke, and yet now she was. Her change intrigued him, and endeared him as well.

Cullen opened his mouth, meaning to say something of worth, but instead muttered a lame, "As am I."

She nodded once, acknowledging his lackluster rebuttal with a sigh. Delani bit into her lower lip, looking as if she wanted to say more but, in the end, decided against it. When she nodded again it was in farewell, excusing herself from the conversation and allowing him to get back to work.

Before she could turn away from him, Cullen reached out to her. His fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist and then trailed down to caress her thin fingers. He cursed at himself for having decided to wear gloves. The damn leather was keeping his skin from hers, preventing him from learning if she was as soft as he imagined her to be. Everything about her was so dainty, and still she was this magnificent woman that he'd always thought could only be found in fairy tales and legends.

He didn't release her hand when he next spoke, couldn't bring himself to break the contact, of having at the very least the pleasure of touching her. "You stayed behind." He whispered, still able to feel the dread he'd endured that night. Shutting his eyes, he tightened his hold on her hand, reminding himself that she was alive and well. "You could have…"

Opening his eyes, Cullen met Delani's green gaze and wondered how a color so brilliant could even exist. Setting his jaw with determination, Cullen swore to her, "I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word."

Delani's gaze fell from his and moved to his hand holding hers. A smile unearthed over her lips, brightening her features. She squeezed his hand before looking back up to him. There was devilment in her eyes and he had to bite back a groan —and fight off a grin— at the sight of it.

"I sure do hope so, _vhenan'ara_," she retorted, a snicker in her voice. "Because this cat is running out of lives."

Sighing in response to the ruined moment, Cullen allowed her hand to fall from his grasp and took a step back. Even as he fought the smile from his lips, he couldn't help it when a chuckle snuck into his voice. "Then I suppose we will have to make the most of the few you have left."

She opened her mouth to reply, but a soldier approached and handed him another report, effectively cutting her off. Cullen accepted the report and returned his attention to her, hoping that she would finish the thought she'd been unable to start. To his disappointment she smiled again, another goodbye.

"A mountain of reports is as likely to kill me as any thousand year old Tevinter magister." She took a step back, as though the paperwork in his hand was a deadly snake ready to strike. Looking over her shoulder for a way out, she grumbled, "I'm sure there's adventure to be had somewhere around here."

When Delani looked back at Cullen it was with a departing wave. "I'll leave you to it, Commander." Turning on her heel, she said with a laugh, "Do try not to have _too_ much fun."

As he watched her swaying hips move further and further away from him, Cullen suddenly remembered that Dorian had been asking after her. Shrugging he turned around and returned to his duties. He was fairly certain that the two would find each other eventually.

* * *

It had been unrealistic to think that she could avoid the paperwork forever. Delani had been in the middle of hearing one of Bull's stories when a runner had sheepishly informed her that she was needed in the war room 'without delay'. Being Inquisitor meant a lot of things to a lot of people, but it should have meant "don't bother me with paperwork" above all else. Unfortunately that wasn't the case, and was the reason Delani was dragging her feet toward the war room.

There was a constant din in Skyhold's main hall as reconstruction was done to its structure. For the most part, the roofing had already been replaced, but the wood had to be checked for mites, rot, or any kind of weakness, which then had to be replaced. There was a lot of work that needed to be done before the place looked presentable. But, as it was, it was off to a good start.

Delani nodded in acknowledgment of all the greetings she received as she passed. She could feels eyes follow her as she walked through the hall, people constantly gauging her worth, questioning her merit, observing her closely in search of fault and flaws. She straightened her back as she headed to the war room, bearing the weight of all of their gazes. She'd never anticipated being made into the Inquisitor, but she would do her best with the title and it would have to be enough for the whole lot of them.

Josephine's office was empty when she walked through it. The beautiful Antivan woman was already waiting for her in the war room, a pile of reports nestled on her clipboard, a candle down at half-mast, burned shorter with the hours of work that had already been done.

Delani shook her head as she pushed past the door exiting Josie's office. Her advisors didn't know how _not_ to work, and Cullen was the guiltiest of them all. A smile lifted her features at the thought of the Commander. She looked down at her hand, the hand he had held while swearing to protect her. That was what he'd meant, she was sure of it. What she wasn't sure of was whether he'd meant it as the Commander to the Inquisitor, or as a man to a woman he felt romantically attracted to and protective over.

Her heart flipped in her chest, giddy with the prospect. What were the odds that that was the way he felt? Her smile fell as she honestly considered it. If she was honest with herself, the odds weren't good. Would a human ever see her as anything more than an elf? Yes, he thought that she was the Herald of Andraste, but the title didn't clip her ears or make her less elven. He thought her worthy of being Inquisitor, but did he think her worthy of anything else? Of him?

And even if he did, Cullen was so professional. He refused to address her by her first name. Even if him having feelings for her was possible, him acting on them wasn't.

Why would she even assume that he had feelings for her anyway? Because of the way he had held her hand? She hadn't imagined the gentleness of his touch, but she had imagined the intent behind it. The man probably took her flirtations as teasing, and had no intention of allowing them to become anything more than that. She needed to return her focus to her new duties. Dwelling on her unrequited feelings couldn't come before her responsibilities as Inquisitor.

Setting her jaw she opened the door to the war room and greeted her advisors professionally. Her gaze lingered only a moment too long on Cullen before she managed to move on to the women standing at his sides. Approaching the war table, she winced inwardly at the sight of all the markers that needed to be addressed.

Delani sighed through her nose, steeling her resolve. Voice full of forced enthusiasm, she wondered, "What do we have?" and rubbed her hands together as though the friction would suddenly make all of this more appealing.

"We need resources, we can set up a memorial in Haven, there are people that we need to find, and research that needs to be done." Leliana replied, her eyes glittering under the shadow of her hood. "Take your pick."

Staring down at the dozens upon dozens of markers on both the Ferelden map, and the map of Orlais, Delani let out a long and defeated sigh. Dragging her nails through her hair, she ruffled the strands and blew her bangs out of her face. "Alright," she couldn't even force her enthusiasm anymore. "Then let's get started."

With her reluctant consent to dive into the unending chasm of mission reports, requisitions, and messages from outreaching nobles, her three advisors didn't hold back. They worked their way through every operation on the table, every detail that demanded her attention, and every assignment that needed her approval. She'd had a taste of this when she'd only been the Herald of Andraste. Now that she was the Inquisitor a mere 'taste' was a long forgotten memory of better times.

Several hours later they weren't even a quarter of the way done with everything that needed to be attended to. After much insistence on Delani's part, a bottle of wine was opened and snacks were carted in from the kitchen. The only way that she was going to get through all of this nonsense was if she was good and drunk. Unfortunately, she also knew that belligerent drunkenness wasn't an option, so instead she settled on toeing the line of tipsy and not being inebriated enough.

When a messenger entered the room, yet another report in hand, Delani had to fight off a groan. This was a part of her job now, whether she liked it or not. The faster she got all of this nonsense taken care of, the faster she was able to get back onto the field and out of this boring circular room where hopes and dreams went to die.

Leliana accepted the report and dismissed the messenger. She opened the letter, and her expression turned into unreadable stone. There was a tick in her jaw and, when she looked up to meet the question in Delani's eyes, she shifted her weight uncomfortably.

Feeling a sudden weight press down on the room, when Delani asked, "What's wrong?" Leliana handed the message over to her. She reached across the table and pulled the message from the spy master's grasp. Her heart sank as she read what was scribed on the paper.

"Clan Lavellan is being attacked by bandits," Leliana explained to the others as Delani read and reread the message. "They're requesting our assistance."

Crumpling the paper, Delani heatedly inserted, "And they will have it." Brows furrowed with determination, Delani breathed through her nose as she tried to calm her racing heart. Her clan was in danger, her people were being threatened by bandits, and she wasn't there to protect them.

The threat had to be great for them to reach out to the Inquisition, to ask a predominantly human organization for assistance; even if she was seated at its head. Dalish clans clashed with bandits all of the time, it was just another part of their lives. The hunters stood against such threats on a daily basis. For her clan to ask for help meant that it wasn't a threat that they could handle on their own, it was greater than any threat that they'd faced before. And she wasn't there.

Her stomach sank at the thought of all the lives that would be lost if she failed to act, if she made a single misstep. Clan Lavellan was more than a hundred strong. There were children, infants, families just being formed. All of their lives, every last one of them, were now being faced with death and she was halfway across the map.

Delani's nails were digging into her palm, she was clenching her fist so tight that blood was staining the balled up parchment. What was the point of her even becoming the Inquisitor if she couldn't protect her own flesh and blood? She'd taken the title for the best interest of her people and her kind, yet the threat remained looming over their heads and she was as far away from them as she could be.

"I'm going," she said, her mind made. She had become Inquisitor for the sake of bettering the lives of her clan and all elven kind alike, but she wouldn't stay if it meant that her family was destroyed by her negligence. "I'll deal with this issue myself."

Her advisors shared wary glances, a silent communication passing between the three humans as they fully took in her meaning. She just accepted the role of Inquisitor. She hadn't even fully worn the weight of the title yet. Delani leaving so soon would appear more akin to fleeing.

"You can't—" Leliana started, only to be cut off by Delani's dangerously narrowed glare.

"Watch me," she tossed the crumpled message onto the war table and turned sharply on her heel

Leliana's voice followed after her, finishing the statement Delani had been so quick to interrupt. "You can't go after them yourself, but we do have the resources to ensure the continued safety of your clan." When Delani turned around, her eyebrow arched in question, the spy master reminded her, "You're the Inquisitor now. You have people at your disposal."

From Cullen's other side, Josephine added, "While we can't concede to you running off to help your people, all of us would be more than happy to help you in this matter."

Delani narrowed her eyes at the Antivan. She was not 'running off' she was doing what right, what had always been her responsibility. Resources at her disposal or no, her first instinct was always to help her people herself. She would accept their assistance, but she couldn't accept staying behind.

"Fine," she curtly replied, a bit more venom in her tone than she intended. "Give me some men, and I'll personally put our resources to use."

Again Leliana spoke up, saying exactly what Delani didn't want to hear. "You have other, more pressing, matters to attend to and—"

"More pressing to whom?" Delani snapped, completely taken aback that she would even dare to say such a thing. Taking a threatening step toward the hooded woman, Delani reminded her —incase she'd forgotten— "These are my people!"

"We understand, Inquisitor," Cullen's voice was soothing when he spoke out, hoping to calm the tension filling the room. His golden eyes met and held hers, his expression lulling, placating, assuring her that they didn't take this matter as lightly as Leliana was making it seem like they did. "And we won't allow any harm to befall your people."

Reaching across the table, he picked up the crumpled piece of paper and carefully smoothed it back out. With his gentle golden eyes back on Delani, he insisted, "Allow me to take care of this, Inquisitor. I will send men, our best, and we will make sure that your clan is safe."

Delani bit her lip, undecided. Her nerves were still grated from how Leliana had so flippantly disregarded her clan's importance, how easily she'd cast them aside for 'more pressing matters'. She could tell by the look in Cullen's amber eyes that he wouldn't take this task lightly, that he would honestly do whatever had to be done to make sure that her people were safe. His handsome expression was set, certain, a plan already being laid out should she accept his request. If there was anyone that she could trust with this it was Cullen.

She glared at Leliana for a moment, making sure that the human knew that she had crossed a line and that Delani would not soon forget. Moving her attention to Cullen, she nodded curtly. "I'm trusting you with this, Cullen."

He nodded once, determination in the motion. "I will not fail you, Inquisitor."

Though she appreciated his assurance, she needed to be sure he knew just how much she needed him to succeed, how much this task meant to her, how important it was that he truly not fail her. "These people are my family, Commander. There are children in my clan, infants, innocents. Don't let them be killed."

His jaw ticked as he fully realized the responsibility, though the confidence didn't leave his eyes. Cullen knew that he could do this, and all he wanted in turn was for her to trust him. "My men will protect them, you have my word."

"That'll have to be enough," she said to herself, unable to repress the feeling of dread that was weighing down on her stomach. When she looked back up to meet the gazes of her war council, Delani sighed through her nose and rolled her shoulders. They'd been locked in the circular room for hours already, they'd gotten done as much as they could in one sitting, and Delani didn't feel like being cooped up for one second longer.

"I think we're done for today." Without waiting for them to either agree or disagree, she turned for the door and dismissed herself. "If you need me I'll be at the stables."

Delani left the war room in a hurry, not waiting for any of her advisors to stop her escape. The day had started off well enough. She would have never guessed that it would have turned out this way. It felt wrong sending someone else to help her clan, when she was perfectly capable of doing so herself. But she trusted Cullen. He would be true to his word, he would make sure her people were safe.

Whatever his feelings were for her, whether they were romantic or not, he would do his job. That much she knew, and it was why she'd let him take this responsibility from her; even if it pained her to do so.

Leaving the main hall, Delani shoved the thoughts from her mind with a sigh. There was nothing that she could do now but wait. Perhaps giving Cornelius a good brushing would help ease her nerves. At the very least the hart was a very good listener.


	5. Chapter 5

Blackwall had given her the idea. Deciding to go visit the Grey Warden, she'd walked in on him working some wood into the shape of a griffon rocker. It was just something to keep the children busy, he'd told her, almost abashed by the admission, as if she could find the gesture anything less than heartbreakingly thoughtful. Ever since their conversation, she hadn't been seen without a small hunk of wood in hand, carving knife picking a shape into the block.

Already she had more than a dozen figurines. There were horses, bears, lions, soldiers, and figures from the Elvhen pantheon. She'd sanded them down as best she could, remembering the technique her father had taught her so many years ago. The last time she'd worked wood had been when she was a teenager. Almost a decade later, she was surprised that she'd retained the lessons as well as she had. Admittedly these small trinkets were nothing compared to what she used to make, but they would do just fine.

Snatching her pack up off of the floor of her bedchambers, Delani swiped the wooden figures off of her bed and into the pack's open mouth. She hoped that she'd made enough, if anything she would just make more and go back later. Confident that she had everything she needed, Delani straightened her tunic and left her bedchambers in a hurry. Excitement put an extra bounce in her step, filling her with a feeling she hadn't felt in a long while; one she couldn't identify just yet, but had missed none the less.

She zipped through the main hall, returning greetings with polite smiles as she ran for the open doors. There wasn't time for sophisticated conversation at the moment; well there was, she just had better things to do. She wasn't planning to be back in Skyhold long, but she intended to make the most of what little time she had. Spending it gossiping with nobles was not on her agenda.

Delani glided down the steps, walked a little further and descended another stairwell. Once she was in the lower courtyard she made a beeline for the open gate. There was an encampment just outside of Skyhold where the workers under the Inquisition's employ were living. It was a dreary place in comparison to Skyhold, dirt roads worn into the mountain side, the smell of too many bodies living too close together filling the air.

She'd already approved more than a dozen requisitions to improve the living conditions in the encampment, and was pushing to make it a priority. With so many things that still needed to be done, it was too easy for the encampment's needs to be forgotten or pushed back to make room for more pressing matters. It wouldn't last forever, but while these people waited for the Inquisition's attention, she felt like there was more that she could be doing herself.

The smell hit her first, and Delani did her best to ignore it. It wasn't overwhelming or sickening, but it did make her stomach drop. People were living like this, _her_ people. More than just elves; humans, dwarves, a handful of qunari, they'd all come to the Inquisition seeking hope and purpose. They'd left their homes and their livelihoods, trusting that the Inquisition, that _she_, would lead them to a better tomorrow. This was what their lives had become. These tents made of cloth and rope were their homes, and still they managed to smile and invest their faith in the banner they served.

They all deserved better, they all deserved more, and she would give them exactly that. While she couldn't snap her fingers and summon a town into being, there was something that she could do. Children had come with their parents, towed along to serve the Inquisition. All they knew were the soldiers and the inspirational banner that decorated every inch of Skyhold. If there was something that she could do to make their days just a bit more enjoyable, then that was exactly what she would do.

Following the sound of childish laughter, it didn't take long for her to find the whelps running through the tents, kicking a ball made of burlap and string. A smile unraveled at the sight of them. Delani remembered being their age. It had always been so easy to make anything into a toy, to turn anything into a game. There was so much wonderment in being a child, she envied their youth and the freedoms of their age.

Kicking the ball with a bit too much force, one of the children sent the ball rolling toward where Delani was standing. Lifting the toe of her boot off of the ground, she stopped the ball and kneeled down to pick it up. The children were quick to come up to her, hoping to retrieve the ball before she took it away from them or scolded them for playing when the adults had so much work to do.

Playfully pursing her lips, Delani tucked the ball between her hip and arm and stared down at the handful of kids surrounding her. Casually leaning her weight on her hip, she wondered, "How many of you want to play a game?"

The children all looked at each other for a moment, surprised by the question. They looked back at her as though she'd sprouted wings and a lion's tail, she was some strange creature, not an adult like their parents. Before long every single one of their hands shot up with a recurring, "Me, me, me!" shouting from them.

Delani lifted her hand, silencing their mantra, and her smile grew. There were only a handful of them present and there was no possible way that these were all the children in camp. Smile turing encouraging, she instructed them to, "Gather all the children in camp. I want each of you to bring back at least one other child. Once all of you are here we'll play some games and I'll give away prizes."

"There are prizes?" a small voice cried out excitedly.

Nodding, she untucked her arm from the strap of her pack and swung it to her side for easier access. Delani pulled free the first figure her fingers touched, which happened to be as close as she could get to a griffon. Small jaws fell at the sight of the toy, giddy excitement making every last one of them jittery all of a sudden.

She put the griffon back in her pack before waving them off. "Go," she said with a laugh, "I want a whole army of children here by the time all of you are back."

Delani should have been more careful with her request. She'd asked for an army of children and that was exactly what she'd gotten. What pulled a smile onto her face though, was more than the fact that they'd sought out as many children as possible, but also that they hadn't restricted their search to human children. There were more than a few wide eyed elven children in the bunch, and they'd been recruited simply for the fact that they were children.

Looking at all of them encircling her made it painfully obvious that she hadn't made nearly enough figurines for all of them. It was a damn good thing that she knew a handful of great games, because they would have to be prizes unto themselves. The next time she did this she would need to plan it better.

"Alright," said Delani, tossing the ball into the air only to catch it again. Scanning over the children, she wondered, "Who knows how to play 'Catch the Fennec'?" Her smile grew with satisfaction when not a single hand shot up. Unsurprising, as it was a Dalish game. A new game meant that it would be more fun, and they would enjoy it all the more.

Excited for all the trouble that would soon unfold, Delani grinned as she said, "Let's start with the rules."

Hours later they'd played every single game from her childhood, they taught her a few of their own games, and together made up some of their own. Delani had taught them Dalish nursery rhymes and handed out prizes to anyone who could solve her riddles. The children's parents, soldiers, and damn near everyone would sit and stare for a while, fascinated by the elf making a fool of herself and playing with the children. Most didn't recognize her as the Inquisitor, but when a few did word spread quickly.

The children didn't care who she was, or what title she bore. To them, she was just the fun woman with games to play and toys to give. There were a great many things that she missed about her clan, but the thing that topped that list was the sound of children at play. If rolling around in the mud, chasing after a crudely put together ball, or making up a ridiculous riddle meant hearing their laughter, she didn't have it in her to feel ashamed.

At least they'd never accuse her of being boring.

* * *

He didn't quite believe it when he heard that the Inquisitor was in the encampment outside of Skyhold, playing in the mud. The stir it caused was difficult to ignore, though. Cullen had been in his office, attempting to catch up on the mountain of paperwork that had built up over the course of the day, when the gossip had become impossible to ignore for a moment longer.

"Commander," one of his soldiers had said, leaning into his office with all thoughts of professional propriety thrown to the wind. A grin on her lips, she'd said, "You _have_ to see this."

Too focused on his work to notice his soldier's lack of professionalism, or to bother getting up to see what 'had' to be seen, he'd sighed, "What is it?" and hoped that the soldier would let him return to his business.

She'd replied with a poorly disguised giggle. "It's the Inquisitor."

Focus pulled from the paperwork scattered over his desk, Cullen's brows furrowed with curiosity as he pushed himself out of his seat and followed the soldier out of his office. The girl led him onto the battlements and pointed his attention to the encampment below. He'd stepped up beside her and followed her gesturing finger only to find a whole squadron of children chasing after an auburn haired elf.

"Maker," he said to himself, a smile starting to surface on his lips. "What is she doing?"

Still standing beside him, the soldier supplied, "If I had to guess, Sir, I'd say she's playing."

"I can see that, Rhen," he replied with an exasperated shake of his head.

Shrugging, she struggled to keep the smile from her lips when she reminded him, "You asked, Sir." They both watched the Inquisitor for a moment before she offhandedly wondered, "Should I call for the physician? Perhaps she hit her head or something."

Taken aback by her question, Cullen looked at the soldier with surprise lifting his brows. "Maker's breath, Rhen." he said with a cough, "She's playing with children, not a raving lunatic. Leave her be."

"As you say, Commander," she said, a smile in her voice.

Cullen returned his attention to the encampment, not noticing when Rhen excused herself and left him to stand there on his own. He stood watch on the battlements for some time, observing Delani as she ran to and fro with a horde children. Even this high on the wall, he could hear their laughter. A smile stretched over his lips. Curiosity combined with deep admiration warmed in his stomach.

While he didn't know why she was doing what she was doing, he could appreciate the gesture all the same. The Inquisitor was setting aside appearances for the sake of children she didn't even know. She didn't care that she looked stark raving mad, all she cared about were those children.

The warmth spread in his chest, seeping like hot oil through his veins. Where had a woman like Delani even come from? How was it possible that such a woman could exist?

Before Cullen knew it the sun had shifted in the sky and an hour had gone by without his notice. His thoughtful admiring trance was broken by one of Leliana's newer runners.

"Commander," she shuffled her feet nervously when he turned his gaze on her, professing her lack of experience. "The Duke of Cumberland has just arrived and is demanding a meeting with the Inquisitor. He refuses to be made to wait."

His hackles rose with the message. Who was this nobleman that he felt so inclined to make such demands of the Inquisitor?

"His family owns a large portion of the spice trade, Sir," the messenger answered his unasked question before he could give voice to it. "He says he wants to talk about investing in the Inquisition."

As much as Cullen hated how the nobleman had gone about his visitation, he couldn't deny that the meeting had too much potential for them to let it slip through their fingers. Combing back his blond hair, Cullen glanced back at the encampment, where Delani was being pulled down to the ground by a legion of children demanding to ride on her back.

When the messenger cautiously asked, "Would you like me to get her?" Cullen shook his head and dismissed her with a professional, "It's fine, I'll inform the Inquisitor myself."

The messenger acknowledged his statement with a fist over her heart before backing away and returning to her duties. Of all the days to have an impatient nobleman demanding to see the Inquisitor, it had to be the day she decided to play in the mud.

Appearances were everything in court and they didn't have enough time to get Delani cleaned up. Another long sigh expelled from him as he left the battlements. If the nobleman wanted to speak to her so urgently he would just have to accept her how she was. If he took issue with it he could discuss his discontent with Cullen, who would happily put him in his place.

Cullen walked past Skyhold's gates and into the pilgrims' encampment. Puddles of melted snow and mud splashed under his boots as he strode towards the sound of children screaming and laughing. A smile struggled at the corners of his mouth when he strode past a few tents and found Delani with a child on her back, another on her hip, and one more hanging from her free arm, there were dozens more running circles around her scream-singing what he guessed to be a Dalish nursery rhyme.

Her sea green eyes met his and the smile that was already on her face grew at the sight of him. "Cullen!" she shouted, a laugh in her voice, her grin reaching her eyes. She adjusted her grip on the child on her hip, as he approached.

Once he was close enough, Delani introduced him to her army of children. "Children, this is Commander Cullen. He is in charge of the Inquisition's forces."

"That's the soldiers!" one of the children shouted in needless explanation.

Nodding, Delani gestured that he was correct in his observation. "That's right."

Though he hated having to pull her away from the fun she was obviously having, Cullen knew that there was pressing business to attend to, and it couldn't wait a moment longer than necessary. "Inquisitor—"

"Cullen, please, my name has only six letters." To her fleet of children, she explained, "The Commander keeps forgetting my name. You should all remind him what it is."

Her eyes didn't leave his for a moment when the whole lot of them screamed in unison, "Delani!"

Foxy smirk twisting the corners of her mouth, she quirked an eyebrow in challenge before commenting, "See, Commander, easy."

He fought back his smile, trying hard to maintain a professional appearance. Placing his hands on the pommel of his sword, Cullen straightened his shoulders and tried again, "Lady Lavellan," a small smile did manage its way onto his face at the sight of Delani shaking her head in disappointment. "Something has come up, there is an important meeting that you are to attend without delay. If you would please accompany me, I'll take you there straight away."

The Inquisitor sighed heavily, this time with real disappointment. "The work never ends, does it?" she said to herself, before instructing the boys hanging from her to get back on their feet. She looked down at the little girl on her hip with a smile, and tucked her curly blonde hair behind a rounded ear. Placing the child back on the ground, Delani took a step toward Cullen before turning around to face her entourage.

"I have to get back to work, children." A laugh spilled from her at the sound of their groaning. Placing her hands on her hips, Delani scolded them, "Now, now, none of that. I'll be back again soon, with more prizes next time." They rushed her like a litter of pups, wanting to hug her goodbye, telling her how much they'd miss her.

It was a sweet display, and Cullen was sorry that he'd cut their time together short. Perhaps next time she came to the encampment he would come with her, if only to see her with the children first hand. Seeing Delani like this warmed his heart straight down to his soul.

When she finally managed to pull away from the small hands grasping at her, Delani backed up until she was at Cullen's side and then smiled up at him to signal that she was ready. Cullen just stared at her for a moment. Her hair was unkempt, there was a light layer of sweat covering her brow, and a smudge of dirt on her cheek; her eyes were bright with laughter, and there was a grin on her face. Delani Lavellan had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He cleared his throat when he realized that he'd been staring for too long, and gestured for her to lead the way. She smiled softly at him before turning on her heel and pushing them forward. They started walking back towards Skyhold and she wondered, "What's this meeting and who's it with?"

"The Duke of Cumberland," Cullen supplied, glancing down at the beautiful woman at his side. "He's here to discuss investing coin into the Inquisition, and wanted to speak with you right away."

Delani sighed, "That sounds important," before looking down at herself. When she glanced back up at Cullen it was with a hopeful quirk of her eyebrow. "Do you think that I have time for a quick bath?"

Shaking his head, Cullen apologized, "Unfortunately, you do not. The Duke was very clear about his urgency." Knowing that it wouldn't solve anything, Cullen reached into his pocket anyway and retrieved the kerchief he usually kept there. Handing it to Delani he said, "It won't help much but… here."

She accepted the token with surprise in her voice, "Thank you, Cullen." and started to wipe the dirt off of her face. Delani patted down her auburn hair in an attempt to straighten it out, combing the knots out with her fingers.

They reached the steps to the main hall before she stopped and turned to face him. Quickly glancing down at herself, she looked back up at Cullen and wondered, "How do I look?"

A smile wormed its way onto his lips as he regarded her. Her hair would need a brush in order for its natural shine to be restored, there was only the slightest tang of sweat coming from her, the smell inoffensive, but noticeable, and there was still a smudge of dirt streaked across her cheek. To him, she looked lovely, to a nobleman, she'd look a mess.

Lifting his hand to her face, Cullen paused just before touching her, searching her eyes for permission and waiting until he had it. Her eyes widened with surprise, but once Delani knew what he intended, she nodded for him to proceed. His heart leaped the second his skin met hers. She was warm under his fingertips, her skin soft as he wiped away the dirt from her cheek.

For a moment, Cullen became so enthralled by his task he forgot that they were standing in the middle of the courtyard. His focus was on the feel of her skin, the shape of her cheekbone, the enchanting design of her crimson colored _vallaslin._ His heart was drumming against his ears, beating wildly, excitedly, as he lost himself to her beauty.

Gaze wandering from her cheek, down the slope of her adorable nose, to the full shape of her lips, Cullen swallowed hard as he wondered how they would feel pressed against his own. What would _she_ feel like pressed against him? Was all of her so warm? Andraste preserve him, he so desperately wanted answers to all of those questions. Her lips stretched into a heartbreaking smile, and Cullen's eyes were pulled up toward hers. The sea green orbs were regarding him with amusement, teasing and joking in a way that belonged singularly to her.

With a laugh in her voice, Delani asked, "Did you get it?" and Cullen realized that his hand was now cupping her cheek.

Snatching his hand back, Cullen awkwardly returned it to his side, and coughed to hide his blushing cheeks. "I, _erm_… Yes, I got it."

He glanced at Delani only to rip his gaze away again. She was smiling at him knowingly, as if she'd caught him doing something embarrassing. Why was it suddenly so hot out? They were on the peak of a mountain, for the Maker's sake.

Clearing his throat, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and tried to steer them back on track. "We've kept the Duke waiting long enough."

"Right," she agreed with a laugh, and followed after him when he started up the stairs. Keeping stride beside him, Delani was gracious enough to change the subject when she next spoke. "Have you received word about my clan yet?"

Cullen glanced down at Delani and apologetically shook his head. "Not yet," he answered before assuring her, "But we should hear something soon."

She sighed, but nodded that she understood. "I'll just have to try and be patient, I suppose."

Not wanting her to encumber herself with dreary thoughts, Cullen insisted, "Your family will be fine, my lady. I swear it."

Delani looked up at him, hope in her eyes as she searched his face and found sincerity. Smile twitching at the edge of her mouth, she confessed, "I believe you."

Those words meant more to him than he expected them to. She believed him. The lives of her people, her clan, her family were in danger and she was trusting him to protect them. She trusted that his men would keep them safe. She was trusting _him_ with the most important thing to her. Cullen was humbled by hearing those words, and surprised by how much they meant to him.

They entered Josephine's office, where the meeting would transpire, and found that everyone was already present. Josephine's eyes widened with horror at the sight of Delani entering the room, her gaze immediately went to the Duke to catch his reaction. Cullen also followed her gaze, and his eyes narrowed at what he saw.

Though his face was covered by a mask, the Duke's body language spoke volumes. His back was ramrod straight, his shoulders stiff, hands balled into tight fists at his sides. He was taking Delani's lack of professional appearance personally, as an insult, as though she didn't take the meeting seriously.

If Delani noticed the revulsion with which the Duke was regarding her, she pretended not to. Plastering a smile onto her face, she approached the Duke with an outstretched hand and gracefully returned it to her side when he refused to take it. "Duke of Cumberland, welcome to Skyhold. It's an honor to have you with us."

The Duke scoffed, turning his nose at Delani's greeting. "An honor," he challenged. "If this is the manner by which you greet an honored guest, then I feel for those who are not held in such high regard."

Straightening her shoulders, Delani cooly replied, "Yes, well, it's dirty work cleaning up everyone else's messes."

"Quite," he replied, a sneer in his voice. Looking around at the others in the room, the Duke admitted, "I expected more from the Inquisition, though I suppose I shouldn't have." Pointed eyes returning to Delani, he finished, "You are Dalish, after all. Barbarians, the whole lot of you."

Cullen's jaw ached from how hard he was grinding his teeth. He took a step forward, intending to make the Duke eat his words, when Delani raised a hand and stopped him in his tracks. Her tone remained polite and professional when she spoke.

"You came here to talk business, did you not, Ser Duke?" Gesturing for them all to take a seat, she insisted, "Let us sit and get started."

Reluctantly, he sat and the rest of them followed suit. It didn't take long for Cullen to figure out that the nobleman was just stringing them all along. He'd probably traveled the distance just to see Delani for himself, as though she were some animal on display. Whenever Cullen would try to end the meeting, tired of wasting time, either Delani or Josephine would subtly motion for him to be patient. When the man started to take jabs at the Inquisitor, his patience for the Duke had finally reached its end.

"Honestly, how does the Inquisition intend to go anywhere with a knife ear as its leader?" he demanded. "How can you ask me to invest coin in a cause that cannot even take itself seriously?"

Snidely he added, "The Inquisition will fail if only because it will never be able to keep up appearances as long as this _savage_ is in charge."

Even though her features remained passive and calm, Cullen could tell that the Duke's biting words were wearing on Delani. Her green eyes were hard masks, solid walls that kept anyone from knowing what was going on inside. The Duke was hurting her, and Cullen would not sit and watch for a moment longer.

"The Inquisition is not interested in your coin," Cullen spat, standing from his chair and looming over the nobleman. "_We_ did not invite you here. You came of your own vocation, and demanded to be greeted with ceremony that we were not prepared to give, and that you do not deserve."

His anger grew with each word spoken. Who did this man think he was to speak to Delani in such a manner? She was the Herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor, no one spoke to her like that no matter their title. "She may be an elf, but it is you who are the savage. You are an ignorant fool and you will leave Skyhold tonight. You are no longer welcome here."

Gasping as though Cullen had run a sword through his chest, the Duke stammered for only a second before regaining his footing. "I will do no such thing—"

"You will," Cullen growled, the threat clear in his voice. "You will either leave here voluntarily, or my soldiers will clear you out, either way you are not staying here for one more day."

When it became obvious that there was no showboating his way out of this one, the Duke kicked back his chair and stood from his seat. Not bothering with a goodbye he stormed out of the room.

Rubbing her brow, Leliana murmured, "Good riddance."

Josephine looked to Delani, her eyes pleading as she admitted, "I had no idea that he would act so terribly, Inquisitor. I am so sorry that you had to sit through that."

The smile on Delani's lips was polite. "It's fine, Josie," she said as she stood from her seat. Her eyes were still hard, her expression still unreadable, and Cullen hated that that noble bastard had managed to take the laughter from her eyes.

She dismissed herself from Josephine's office and the advisors stayed behind for a moment longer. It was Leliana who broke the silence with a sighed, "Well, that could have gone better."

Cullen disagreed. If it were up to him, it wouldn't have happened at all.

A few hours later and Cullen was seated at his desk once again, trying one more time to get through the paperwork that had piled up on his desk. The pile had grown since he'd last attended to it. It was twice the size it had been before, and he was considering working straight through the night if it meant that he could manage to cut it in half. At least then he'd keep the nightmares away.

The wind carried a song through his open window, and Cullen's attention was pulled from the papers scattered over his desk. It was soft, only the melody reaching him at his desk. He forced his attention back to his work, but the song continued and his curiosity got the best of him. Cullen stood from his chair and walked toward the open window, expecting to see nothing but the battlements shadowed by night. Instead he found the Inquisitor sitting on the ledge and staring out into the night.

Too intrigued to even bother sitting back down at his desk, Cullen opened the door to his office and stepped out into the night. Delani had stopped singing at the sound of the door opening, but didn't acknowledge his approach until he was standing beside her.

She'd bathed since the last time he saw her. Her hair was shining under the moonlight, the smell of wildflowers reaching his nose and invigorating his senses. There was a chunk of wood in her hand, her carving knife out of its sheath and digging into the block. Already a form was starting to take shape, though he couldn't tell yet what it was. Cullen stepped up to the ledge and leaned his elbows against it, glancing quickly at Delani before moving his gaze toward the horizon.

"I'm sorry for walking you into that today," he said, genuinely upset with himself for allowing her to be berated by some pompous bigot undeserving of her time or attention. He should have spoken up sooner. He shouldn't have taken her into the meeting at all.

Shaking her head, she replied, "It's okay, Cullen. He didn't say anything that I haven't heard before. Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor, it doesn't matter. To some people I will never be anything more than an elf." Her attention was on carving a shape into the wood and she didn't look up from her task when she spoke. "I'm just sorry that we didn't manage to take his gold."

Cullen smiled at her jest and nodded in agreement. Giving her a sidelong glance, he moved his attention to the wood being worked in her hand. Curiously, he wondered, "A prize for the children?"

A smile inched over her lips as she nodded. She blew on the wood, clearing her workspace, before she answered, "I didn't have enough for all of them. I need to make more for next time."

"You plan on going back?" he asked, unsurprised considering how much she had appeared to have been enjoying herself when he'd had to pull her away.

"I do," she admitted, a fond smile brightening her beautiful features.

Cullen stared at her for a moment, words escaping him. Blinking hard, he forced himself back into the conversation with the observation, "You're good with the children." He didn't know why he found the fact so surprising, or so endearing, but it was one that he enjoyed all the same.

"I like kids," she said, glancing at him before refocusing on her project. "They haven't learned to hate yet." Without looking away from the wood, she explained, "To them I'm just a woman with toys to give and games to play. I'm not a knife ear, I'm not a savage, I'm just Delani."

Frowning that she would even say such a thing, Cullen insisted, "You're not either of those things. You are a strong and capable woman. The Duke of Cumberland is an ignorant bastard who knows nothing about you. He doesn't deserve to lick the ground you walk on."

She grinned at Cullen then, making him blush under her amused gaze. "Commander Cullen," she gasped, a laugh in her voice. "That has to be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed for having spoken so outright. Had he been too revealing with his words? Should he have chosen them more carefully? Before he could mumble a half thought reply she inched off of the ledge and back onto the battlements.

Delani stood before him, a grin still on her lips. "It's getting late," she said and disappointment started to spill through his veins. "I should probably return to my chambers."

"Right," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck again in attempt to disguise his disappointment. "I have paperwork to finish," he said more to himself, remembering the pile that still needed to be tended to.

Smiling up at him, she placed a hand on his bracer, before softly saying, "Good night, _vhenan'ara_."

He bowed his head, "Good night, Del—" Cullen caught himself before he could finish. Clearing his throat, he corrected, "Lady Lavellan."

Smile turning departing, Delani swiveled around and left him on the battlements. He watched her go, staring after her longingly. She was breathtaking, and Cullen wondered whether or not he would ever be a man deserving of her. No, he concluded, not even if he lived a hundred lives he would never deserve a woman like her.


	6. Chapter 6

Night was still lingering in the heavens, the sun still slumbering under the horizon, and Cullen was already awake. He'd gotten some sleep at least, not much but enough to get through the rest of the day. The nightmares had come again, not as bad as they typically were, but bad enough that the thought of going back to sleep made his stomach turn.

Cullen was seated at his desk, going over everything that needed to be done by the end of the day. Skyhold was slowly starting to come together. There was still so much to be done, but they'd made good headway already, and were progressing ahead of schedule. At this rate repairs would be completed in two months time at most. Others might have called it an overly hopeful estimation, but he knew that his confidence in his men was well placed.

As he sifted through paperwork, blueprints, and requisitions, his attention was stolen from his task by the sound of a light rapping at his door. He stared at the door for a second, surprised that anyone else was awake at this hour. He glanced out the window, thinking that maybe he'd lost track of time, but no, darkness still prevailed in the morning sky.

Curious, he stood from his desk and strode toward the door. The heavy door swung inward with a creak, revealing the Inquisitor standing on the other side. Cullen took a moment to look over her, making sure that she was fine. She was fully dressed in her medium weight armor, a cloak made of fine green fabric on her shoulders and protecting her from the cold. She looked as though she were about to leave for another assignment, but that couldn't have been the case. She, Solas, Cole, and Blackwall had only just returned the night before.

Auburn brows were deeply furrowed, her features serious in a way that he was unfamiliar with. Delani's lips were thin, humorless, and her jaw was clenched tightly. Her expression was hard and difficult to read, but her eyes were expressive and he knew right away that something was wrong.

"Lady Lavellan," he said, his surprise preventing him from voicing a proper greeting. "Is everything alright?"

Her nostrils flared when she took a deep breath. Delani looked away from him quickly, as if searching for strength elsewhere before meeting his gaze once again. When she spoke her tone was level, inexpressive, not even a hint of a joke in the undercurrents of her voice. "Do you have a moment, Commander?"

"Of course," he said, stepping aside and gesturing for her to enter his office.

When she strode in Cullen shut the door behind her and turned to watch as she paced the length of the room. Something was definitely wrong. She never acted like this. Delani was controlled, even when drenched in snark she knew exactly what she was doing and how to elicit the desired response from everyone around her. She did not pace, and she certainly was never up before the sun if she didn't have to be.

He opened his mouth to repeat his earlier question, but she spoke before him, cutting him off with a question of her own.

"Have you received word from my clan yet?" She stopped pacing. Standing in the center of the room she glanced in his direction before turning away, her shoulders tense as though she were bracing herself for his answer.

Cullen's stomach dropped, knowing that she wouldn't like his answer. "Not yet." Before she could react, he assured her, "But we should hear something soon. We must continue to be patient."

A huff sounded from Delani, the noise making it painfully clear that patience was not a virtue that she was familiar with. Her fingers rolled into tight fists at her sides, but she didn't press the issue anymore than that. Turning her body to face him, she wondered, "Are you busy?"

"I, _um_, _erm_—" the question caught him off guard. Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, quickly peeking back at his desk and considering the papers scattered along its surface. Technically no, he wasn't busy; not yet at least. Everything he'd done until now was mostly busy work, him keeping himself occupied until the day officially commenced.

Deciding that perhaps it was best to see what exactly it was the Inquisitor wanted before answering that question, he wondered, "Did you need something?"

She nodded once, the gesture curt as she answered, "To borrow you."

His heart leapt in his chest. How often had he imagined her saying those words to him, but it was never like this. In his mind, her lips were curled with her typical mischief, her sea green eyes alight with an infectious laugh. At present she was the most serious he had ever seen her, and the difference was disconcerting.

"To borrow me?" He asked, surprised by her request and unsure what she meant by it. "For how long? There is much to be done today, most of which will need my direct supervision."

Green eyes hardening, Delani instructed him to, "Put it off. You're coming with me." Seeming to recognize the aggressiveness of her instructions, she softened her voice and added, "Please?"

Brow arching with cautious curiosity, Cullen asked, "Going where with you? Why are you dressed in your armor?" Even if agreeing to go with Delani was exactly what he wanted to do, he knew that he had responsibilities that he couldn't be pulled away from; not even by the Inquisitor herself.

Glancing down at her armor, Delani met Cullen's gaze again and she explained. "We're going on a hunt." To the surprised look that took his features, she continued, "It always helps to clear my mind."

He could understand that, but there was still one thing that he didn't understand. "Okay," he drawled out, uncertain what exactly it was she expected from him. "Why do you need me for that? Isn't there someone else that you could take with you?"

"Sure," she shrugged only to immediately discard his question. "But I'm asking _you_." Holding his gaze, when Cullen didn't reply with his instantaneous consent, Delani sighed and dragged a gloved hand down her face. "If you truly don't want to go, then I will ask someone else, but I would prefer it to be you."

_Alright, I'll go with you_. The words hung on the tip of his tongue, wanting so badly to be spoken. He would've liked nothing more than to go with her, but there was still so much work to be done and to go with her would be to neglect the rest of his responsibilities. He couldn't, at least not without putting up more of a fight, if only to convince himself that he'd tried.

"I have a lot of work to do today, my lady—"

"Who's your second in command, Commander?" she wondered, interrupting him before his excuse could be fully voiced. Delani was growing impatient with him and his excuses and he couldn't say that he blamed her.

Hesitantly, he answered, "Captain Ophelia—"

"Do you trust her to do her job?"

"I do."

Gesturing as though he'd just solved all of their problems with that answer, Delani replied, "Good, then she'll manage without you for a few hours." When she noticed the lingering doubt in his eyes, she insisted, "It'll only be a few hours, Cullen. I promise. We'll be back before you know it, and you can bury yourself in work without any argument from me. Please, just come with me."

He stared at her for a moment, moved by her plea. Delani, who was typically all devilment and revelry, was desperately insisting on having his company. She was meeting his every argument with heavy resistance but her patience was at its end. If he gave another reason why he could not accompany her, she would leave his office and he will have missed his chance to spend more time with her.

Delani needed this. He didn't know what was bothering her, and he couldn't imagine the stress she was dealing with. She wanted to get away for a few hours, and she wanted him to accompany her. There were worse ways to spend the morning than watching the sunrise with a beautiful woman. If she needed this, if she needed _him_, then he would not put up any more of a fight than he already had.

"Allow me to get ready, and I will go with you."

A small smile curled her full lips, relief in her eyes. Nodding, she strode toward the door with a departing, "Meet me at the stables. I'll prepare the mounts." She left him in the office, shutting the door behind her.

Cullen stared at the door for a second, trying to convince himself that that had really just happened. Delani had truly come to his door and tried to whisk him away. It was supposed to be the other way around, and the mood wasn't supposed to be so tense, but he would go with her regardless. Delani had asked for his company specifically. There were plenty of others she could have asked, but she'd asked him, and he wouldn't keep her waiting.

Grabbing his pauldrons from his desk chair, Cullen pulled it over his shoulders. He strapped on his bracers, and tightened the laces of his boots. When he was dressed and ready to go, Cullen left a note for Captain Ophelia on his desk with clear instructions on how the day's itinerary was to progress. Leaving his office behind, he hurried for the stables and found that his mare was already waiting for him by the time of his arrival.

Delani was already seated high on her hart, the beast huffing in discontent at the sight of Cullen. She offered him a welcoming smile as he approached, but not another word passed between them. The sun would be rising soon, and he could feel that the Inquisitor was in a hurry to escape Skyhold before others started to stir.

He climbed onto his mare and they took off. Skyhold's gates were already drawn, the patrol seeing them off by torchlight. His mount, Delilah, kept pace beside Delani's hart, though it was obvious that the beast could outrun them should Delani command him to.

They rode for a while, their pace fast and unyielding. By the time the sun finally broke over the horizon they had already reached the valley. What had started as a scattering of trees quickly turned into an entire forest and their steeds were no longer able to run freely through the forestry. Delani signaled for them to dismount, and Cullen strung Delilah beside the Inquisitor's hart.

Stepping up beside Delani, Cullen watched as his every exhale clouded the air before him. The morning was cold, the temperature was exhilarating and he felt his senses come alive. Feeling a tinge of embarrassment, he admitted, "Believe it or not, I have never really been on a hunt." and followed after Delani as she started to go further into the forest.

Throwing him a doubtful sidelong glance, Delani commented, "Being a Templar for as long as you were, I find that hard to believe."

Her comment, though said dryly, had not been malicious. Had Delani been in a better mood it would have been accompanied by a smirk, her sea green eyes glittering, teasing him to react offendedly to her words. Cullen missed her smile, missed the mischief in her eyes.

Not wanting for their conversation to end so soon, he replied, "Hunting apostates and hunting animals are two very different things, my lady." Pushing aside some low hanging branches, Cullen gestured for Delani to go ahead of him before ducking under the branch himself.

"For the most part, animals are predictable," he continued. "People aren't; people are dangerous."

"Yes," she easily agreed, her tone level and controlled, "they are."

Delani was speaking from first hand experience. She knew better than anyone how dangerous people could be. She'd probably dealt with more than her fair share of bandits, and thoughts of her clan were probably what was causing her unusual somber behavior.

Returning the subject to his inexperience in hunting, she assured him, "There's nothing to it, just follow my lead."

Silence joined them for a bit, and Cullen felt as though they were doing nothing more than taking a stroll through the woods. Not that he was complaining. He was perfectly content where he was and with the company he had. He couldn't think of a single place that he would rather be. If Cullen could change one thing about the current situation it would be for Delani's typical easy demeanor to be restored. But whatever she was going through was obviously something that she needed to work out on her own, and he was happy to be there for her however she needed him.

After a minute or so Delani broke the silence, "Is it typical for messages to take this long?"

An excuse started to form on his lips, but Cullen stopped himself before the words were voiced. Shaking his head, he decided to instead be honest with her. Delani was worried about her people, placating her with excuses and false reassurances wasn't fair to her. "No, I would have expected to hear something by now."

Delani nodded curtly. Directing her attention forward, her shoulders were tight and her mood was dark. Cullen placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. When her green eyes sought his, he allowed a soft smile to spread over his lips. Encouragingly, Cullen insisted, "Your clan is fine, Lady Lavellan. My soldiers made it in time. They're safe."

"How can you be so sure?" she demanded, wariness ringing clearly in her voice. She was searching his face, looking desperately into his eyes, hoping to find his confidence and replicate it as her own.

Allowing his smile to widen a touch, he said, "I have faith."

She seemed dissatisfied with his answer, but accepted it nonetheless. They started walking again, and before silence could accompany them once more Delani started, "The reason that I insisted that you join me today, was because I wanted to get your opinion something."

Intrigued, Cullen investigated, "My opinion on what?"

"The children at Skyhold," she answered, her tone cautious, as though she were trekking on untested ground. "They came to Skyhold with their parents, who are working hard for the Inquisition. These people came to us to fight for a better tomorrow, a future that their children will be the leaders of, and I feel like we should be doing more for them."

Glancing over her shoulder back at him, Delani tucked her bangs behind a pointed ear before declaring, "I think that any child, no matter their race or upbringing, should be receiving an education for as long as they're with us. It's the least we can do."

Cullen stared at her for a while, stunned speechless by her ideals. Just when he thought that she couldn't possibly surprise him any more than she already had, she went and said _that_. It was such a heartwarming thought, that she cared so much about those children that she wanted to make sure that every last one of them received a proper education. Others might have tried to argue with her, insisting that there were too many children, and too much else to do for them to be bothered with opening up a school in the middle of a military operation.

He just so happened to agree with Delani on the subject. If there was one thing that he'd appreciated about the Circle, it was that it used to take care of the needs of all those who called it home. All were given beds, warm meals, and a proper education. Skyhold had a well stocked library, better stocked now that Dorian had taken up residence within it. They had the space, they had the resources. If Delani felt like this should have been a priority, then he felt inclined to agree with her.

"You're right," he stated after only a moment of consideration. She looked back at him, surprise widening her features. He smiled at her reaction, knowing that she had probably been anticipating him to argue that it couldn't be done, or that they didn't have the time for it.

Nodding, he assured her that he had her back on this and said, "When we return to Skyhold I will see about getting the process started."

"I—" She shook her head and blinked hard, repressing her surprise as best she could. When she looked back at him it was with pinched brows and uncertainty in her eyes. "Really?" Delani asked, needing further affirmation that he didn't think that she was being too idealistic.

"Really," he said, before repeating her earlier statement. "It's the least we can do."

A grin expanded over her lips and Cullen's heart melted at the sight of it. Finally, after a long morning of waiting, she had finally blessed him with a smile. Maker's breath, what a beautiful sight. He felt a familiar burn start to warm under his cheeks and Cullen rubbed the back of his neck.

Clearing his throat, Cullen felt a sideways smirk coil the corner of his mouth. Feeling emboldened by the grateful look Delani was giving him, he wondered, "So _that's_ the reason you dragged me out here before the crack of dawn?"

A scoff sounded from Delani. Shrugging, she casually admitted, "No, I just so happen to enjoy your company." And looked back at him in time to catch his reaction.

Cullen's blush intensified and there was nothing he could to do hide it. Every time that he felt confident enough to hold his own against her flirtations, Delani would say something, or look at him a certain way, and he would turn into a flustered mumbling idiot. It was frustrating trying to compete with her, and she had to know the effect she had on him. Delani grinned in response to his reaction before returning her attention to the task at hand. He took another step and, before his foot could touch the ground, she stopped him in his tracks.

"Careful," she hissed, squatting down to the ground. Gently touching the dirt, she explained, "You're a better hunter than you think, _vhenan'ara_. Looks like we've stumbled upon some tracks."

He grit his teeth, fighting back the desire to ask again what _vhenan'ara_ meant. Delani was stubborn. He had seen her leave Skyhold with Sera, Iron Bull, and Dorian, and he could only imagine the level of patience and sheer willpower it took to deal with those three. He wouldn't be able to pester her into telling him its meaning.

The only way she would ever tell him was if he conceded to her terms and called her by her first name. He didn't know why he was still torturing himself. Her name was beautiful, short and melodic like her native tongue. But part of him enjoyed the mystery, the frustration, the self-inflicted torture. Why else would he allow himself to suffer for so long?

"These are deer tracks," she explained, returning him to reality where she was about to educate him in the ways of a Dalish hunter. Staying crouched low to the ground, Delani followed the tracks a little ways and commented, "Fully grown male by the looks of it. These tracks are less than an hour old."

They were moving again, and Cullen was careful to mind his footing. Admiring the way that Delani's lithe body moved when she was on the hunt, he couldn't help himself when he asked, "Where'd you learn to hunt?" The answer was obvious: from her clan. She was a hunter, hunting was what she did. The explanation she would give him was probably no more in depth than that.

Without looking at him, Delani answered, "My father taught me. When I was very young, about six or seven, I used to get into a lot of trouble with the clan."

Unsurprised, Cullen felt a grin inch across his lips. He could imagine Delani as a little girl, causing a ruckus wherever she went. Unable to hide the amusement in his voice, he pursued the conversation. "How so?"

"Around that time, my clan had taken in a flat ear from the nearby town. He taught me how to pick locks," that could have been answer enough, Cullen could easily fill in the rest without further explanation. The visuals that came to mind were beyond entertaining, but he was more than happy to hear the rest of Delani's story. "Since the clan is always traveling, we have a lot of chests and, therefore, a lot of locks. I would pick every lock in the caravan and add an item to the chests; sometimes insects, mostly snakes."

"That's terrible," Cullen replied with a laugh.

Nodding, Delani agreed. "It didn't take long for the clan to reach its wits end with my antics. They told my parents to deal with me, so my father decided to keep my hands busy. He taught me the basics of wielding daggers, and how to track down prey. I caught on quick, and my clan was relieved that they no longer had to worry whether or not a serpent awaited them every time they opened a chest."

His smile grew. "I can believe that." Fondly regarding Delani, he observed, "Your father must be proud of the woman you've become."

Her shoulders tensed, pausing in her tracks, her entire body turned rigid with discomfort, and Cullen knew that he had said exactly the wrong thing. When Delani glanced back at him there was a pained smile forced onto her lips. Her voice was soft when she replied, "I'd like to think so."

Something about her reaction kept him for pursuing the topic any further, despite how desperately he wanted to. Did Delani have a bad relationship with her father? He doubted that that was the case, especially after how fondly she'd spoken of him, but her reaction made him want to dig deeper.

Cullen resisted the urge and instead followed quietly behind Delani. There was so much about her that he wanted to know. The way that she spoke of her home, of her people, made him want to see it for himself. He didn't know enough about the Dalish, and just being with Delani made him want to know everything. He wanted to know how a woman like her came into being. Surely if the someone like her came from the Dalish then they were a people worth learning everything about.

After a while his thoughts were interrupted by Delani's hushed whisper, "There he is."

She gently moved a low hanging branch, giving Cullen a clear view of the buck they'd been pursuing. The deer was enormous, and had to weigh more than Cullen himself. He didn't doubt that Delani would manage to down the deer, the only thing that gave him pause was how they were going to get him back to Skyhold.

She looked up at him, a grin on her lips, excitement in her eyes, and Cullen had to remind himself to breathe. Quietly, she jested, "Looks like lunch is on me, _vhenan'ara_."

* * *

Evening was creeping into the sky and Delani found herself in Solas's workspace, seated cross-legged at his desk, watching as the older elf painted on the walls. Solas was a man with many talents, and his fortitude in the arts was enviable. Delani would often come to the circular room just to sit and chat with the other elf.

Solas wasn't fond of the Dalish people, she'd learned that straight away during their first conversation together. But he held her in higher regard than he did the rest of her people. They respected each other and, even though Delani had been initially put off by his dislike of the Dalish, she regarded him as a close and dear friend.

He was wise and insightful, and opinionated to a fault. She'd lost count of the nights that they had spent debating, respectfully arguing their opinions until they both left more educated and with a higher level of understanding than they'd had going in. Admittedly, Delani was often times on the losing side of those debates, but she enjoyed them all the same. Solas never treated her like a child, despite his seniority. He made her feel like his equal, and she respected him all the more for it.

Her morning with Cullen had helped while it lasted. The _shemlan's _company always seemed to ease her tensions. But she'd promised that it would only last a few hours and, true to her word, she'd returned him to Skyhold before noon. The buck they'd hunted had been served for lunch, and not even the taste of her kill could scrub her clean from the melancholy that had latched itself to her all day. She'd hoped some time with the Commander would help her to forget, and it had, but as soon as he was gone it was back and she felt lost and alone.

"Something is troubling you, _lethallan_." Solas commented, peeking back at her over his shoulder. There was a smudge of red paint on his brow, his eyes were soft with concern. His tone was gentle when he observed, "I've never known you to be this quiet."

Sighing, she said, "It's nothing," before admitting, "I'm just worried for my clan. It is taking an unusual amount of time for Cullen to receive word on how they are doing."

"You want to be with them," Solas stated, knowing her well enough to be able to guess exactly why she was feeling so somber.

She nodded in answer, picking at her cuticles as Solas strode back toward his desk to put more paint onto the pallet in his hand. Glancing up at him past her brow, she said, "I trust Cullen to keep them safe, but it feels wrong to not be there to defend them myself. Protecting my clan has been my responsibility for more than a decade. It's difficult disregarding my instincts and trusting someone else to ensure the clan's survival."

Solas glanced up at her, his eyebrow arched in intrigue. Mixing the blue and red paints on his pallet to create the loveliest purple color, he admitted, "I'm surprised to hear you say that you trust him." He explained his meaning when Delani's head tilted with curiosity. "Cullen is a _shemlan_. Of all of our companions there are a select few that you've allowed yourself to grow close to: Varric, Iron Bull, and myself."

Turning around, he strode back toward the wall he was using as his canvas and finished his thought. "You seem wary of humans."

"That's not true," Delani argued, feeling defensive. "Sera and I do not exactly get along."

He scoffed, amused that she thought it was a valid argument. "I see little difference."

Delani shrugged, he had a point. Sera disliked elven kind more than most humans did. Moving on to her next argument, she ventured, "How about Cole, I get along with him just fine."

Looking over his shoulder back at her, the expression on Solas's features was mildly scolding. "Cole is a spirit that is human in appearance alone."

"Fine," she groaned, falling backwards onto his desk. Laying her head down on a pile of books, she made herself comfortable as she admitted, "I'm wary of humans. But when the safety of your home and your people is threatened predominantly by humans, a little wariness keeps you alive."

She started picking at her cuticles again, focusing on the task as she let her mind wander. Absently giving voice to her thoughts, Delani said, "But Cullen is different. He's honest and noble, he's—"

"Handsome," Solas finished for her, a smile in his voice.

Surprised by his insertion, Delani's gaze snapped to where he was standing in time to catch him grinning at her. Narrowing her eyes, she observed, "It looks like I have some competition for the Commander's affections. I didn't know that you had such… masculine preferences, Solas."

"I don't," he assured her with a laugh. Looking back at the mural, he started to apply the purple paint onto the wall, his tone was casual even as he concentrated on his task. "But I can see the way you look at him."

Sighing through her nose, Delani inspected her nails closely. Her heart fell to her stomach and she felt nauseous with self-loathing. "How I look at him doesn't matter," she rumbled, knowing that there was no way a man like Cullen would ever lower himself by consorting with a savage. "It will never amount to anything."

Solas's tone was gentle when he informed her, "Your feelings are not quite as unrequited as you think, _da'len_."

She ignored the hope his words inspired inside of her. Maybe he was right. Maybe Cullen did have feelings for her and they were strong enough for him to pursue. Shaking her head she shoved the thoughts aside. "It doesn't change anything," she said mostly to herself, scolding herself for even thinking about her romantic life when the lives of her clan were in danger. "I'm the Inquisitor and that is all that I will ever be to him."

Frustratedly combing her fingers through her hair, Delani sighed through her nose and shoved all thoughts of Cullen from her mind. She was too emotionally compromised to even consider starting something with the human. Her people were in danger, and she was worried. Until she received word one way or another, she could only focus on work.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," she said with another sigh.

When Solas replied his voice was full of understanding. "Then what do you wish to talk about, _lethallan_?"

"Nothing," Delani admitted before desperately pleading with the man. "Solas, would you please tell me more about the Beyond? Can you tell more about another one of your friends? Please?"

Graciously conceding to her request, he said, "_Ma nuvenin, ma'falon." _He paused for a moment as he considered which tale to tell. When he thought of the perfect one Solas started to tell his tale and Delani shut her eyes to listen. The tone of his voice was soothing, rhythmic, melodic, like listening the patter of rain against the fabric of her tent in the caravan. He would help her to forget her worries. It wouldn't last forever, but even the shortest reprieve was a relief.

* * *

**Not going to lie, I'm kind of nervous about this chapter. I hope you don't hate it!**


	7. Chapter 7

"Oh, my shoulders," Dorian whined as they strode back into Skyhold. The mage was rolling his shoulders, rubbing his neck, his face pinched by discomfort. Giving Delani a sidelong glance, he wondered, "You don't happen to know if the Inquisition has a masseuse under our employ, do you?"

Before Delani could answer Iron Bull stepped up behind him, his massive digits seeking out the knots in Dorian's back. "If you're looking for a back rub, look no further, Vint."

Dorian winced at the pain before melting under the qunari's hands. After a millisecond he recognized what was going on and leapt out from Iron Bull's grasp. "Unhand me you foul beast!" he said, crazily waving his hands in front of him as though he were about to cast a spell.

Keeping pace beside Delani, Varric nudged her with his elbow before wagering, "Five sovereigns says that they end up in bed together before the end of the month."

She glanced back at the other two men and shook her head. Dorian was glaring at Bull from the corner of his eye, and Iron Bull had a boyish smirk on his lips. Looking back down at Varric, Delani replied, "I'm not in the habit of taking losing bets, Tethras."

"Ah, shucks," he snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. "And here I was looking to make easy money."

Playfully pushing his shoulder, she shoved him back a step, a laugh in her voice when she assured him, "Well you're not going to get it from me, dwarf."

"I almost had you there though, Scarlett."

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Gaping at Varric she demanded, "Is that my nickname?"

The thought made her grin. Finally she had a nickname! She felt like she'd been waiting for _ages_ to receive a name other than 'elf' from the dwarf. How could he ever consider her to be a friend if he didn't have a nickname to call her by? Varric nicknamed everyone, going without had felt like he didn't think her deserving of one.

Noticing the excitement in Delani's eyes, Varric shrugged and informed her, "It's a working name. I still haven't decided if I like it or not."

She grinned at him and said, "It's perfect."

Waving off her words with faux-abashment, Varric replied, "We'll see if it sticks."

Her three companions were visibly more relaxed now that they were back in Skyhold. She'd dragged them to the Fallow Mire in order to rescue some of the Inquisition's soldiers, and not a single moment had gone by without her hearing a complaint from Dorian. It was partially the reason why she'd brought him. Dorian complained about everything she hated about the Fallow Mire, which just also happened to be _everything_ about the Fallow Mire.

It was a dreary place that not even the sun dared to touch. The rain never ceased and the undead, Delani groaned at the very thought of them. She couldn't walk five steps without stumbling over a possessed corpse out for blood. It was wet, cold, and dark, and Delani hated it. The only thing that made it better was the eloquence of Dorian's complaints. His words were always chosen so bitingly, so beautifully, and hearing him whine and pout about how much he hated the Fallow Mire made being there bearable.

Now they were back home, and they could all relax for a little while before Delani dragged them by their ears out onto the field again. Iron Bull voiced a boisterous goodbye before disbanding from their group and heading toward the tavern. She, Dorian, and Varric headed toward Skyhold's main hall before going their separate ways.

As much as she wanted to check in with all of her companions and see how all of them were doing, there was something vastly more important that she needed to do. Bathe. She smelled like sweat and musty swamp water. Her cloak was heavy and dirty, and desperately needed to be washed. Every inch of her from head to toe needed to be scrubbed clean, and it wasn't something that could be put off until later.

Returning to her bedchamber, Delani summoned a bath and set aside fresh clothes to wear afterwards. Upon first arriving at Skyhold Josephine had tried to convince Delani to wear a ridiculous monotoned ensemble, with golden buckles and creme colored boots. Naturally, she'd refused. She had casual clothing, yes they were of Dalish make, but they were comfortable and vastly superior to the colorless drab she'd been asked to wear. Delani had never particularly cared for appearances, and that hadn't changed by becoming Inquisitor.

The bath was hot, bubbly, and well deserved. She'd soaked in the tub until the water was cold and her fingertips were wrinkled like dried grapes. Stepping out of the now cold water, having suds slip down her limbs, it was like stress melting off of her body. Delani wrapped herself in a warm towel and stepped back into her room. Quickly she dried herself off, ran a comb through her hair, got dressed in her comfortable clothing, and threw herself down on her enormous bed.

All that she wanted to do was lie down and nap like a cat bathing in the sun. But she knew that, now that she'd returned, her responsibilities wouldn't wait for her to settle back into the swing of things. Any minute now someone was bound to come, knocking on her door, reminding her of all the paperwork that had accumulated during her absence. She had a million things to do and they couldn't wait until—

There was a rap on her door. Delani buried her face in her hands and sobbed to herself. Through the cracks of her fingers she shouted, "Coming!" and peeled herself off of the mattress. It was times like these that she couldn't remember why she'd taken the title of Inquisitor. Being a hunter had never been so demanding.

Dragging her feet toward the stairs, she slowly descended the steps and pulled the door open. There was one of Cullen's soldiers standing on the other side. The young man handed a folded piece of parchment to her with the explanation, "You were to receive this message upon your arrival, Lady Inquisitor."

"Thank you," Delani replied, carefully taking the message from the young man's outstretched hand. He crossed his arm over his chest in salute and turned on his heel to leave. She closed the door behind him before leaning her back against it.

Her heart started to beat against her ears. Nerves started to ripple through her veins. All that Delani could do for a moment was stare down at the folded letter. She knew that she needed to open it, she knew that whatever laid inside pertained to her clan, but she couldn't bring herself to unfold the paper and read the words inside.

What if the news was bad? What if her whole family was gone and she was alone? Delani couldn't even bear the thought. A life without her clan was hardly one worth living. It was her responsibility to keep them safe, and if she opened that letter and learned that they were all dead, it was she who would have failed them all.

Her hand was shaking and she was nervously gnawing on the inside of her cheek. The news was right there in her hand, the words scribed on the parchment just waiting to be read. She'd been pestering Cullen for information every time she'd seen him. He had promised news and there it was, right in her grasp, and she was too big of a coward to unfold the paper and read what was inside.

Free hand reaching for the carving knife hanging from her belt, she worried on the worn leather hilt and summoned the strength to unfold the message. Eyelids falling shut, she breathed in deeply through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. Avoiding the news wouldn't change it one way or another. She had to read the message. She had to know.

She reopened her eyes and released the carving knife. Taking one more deep breath to steel her resolve, she unfolded the letter and read the message inside. Her heart started to race, a grin expanding over her lips. It was good news. The news was more than good, it was great. Her clan was alive, and they'd suffered minimal casualties. Cullen's forces had descend from the hills and joined clan Lavellan's hunters and they'd put down the bandits together.

Relief flowed through her like a calming stream. _Thank the Creators_. She buried her fingers in her hair and laughed to herself. They'd done it. Cullen's men had done it. _Cullen_ had done it. Her people were safe, they were no longer in danger, they were alive, and it was because of him.

Her feet were moving before purpose could take shape in her mind. Delani knew that she had to thank him, but her body was one step ahead of her. The door to her bedchambers slammed shut and she ran through the corridor and down more flights of stairs. She needed to find Cullen and she needed to thank him for her people's safety.

She burst into the main hall, quickly drawing startled glances and rousing suspicious conversation. Clearing her throat, Delani made more of an effort to appear casual, but her pace was still hurried as she walked down the hall's length.

Towards the end of the main hall, Varric was seated at his writing desk, quill in hand, fresh parchment stacked before him. He watched her approach with a quirked eyebrow, and once she was close enough his gravely voice wondered, "Where's the fire, Scarlet?"

Her only reply was an impartial shrug, before pulling open the door to Solas's workspace that connected to the walkway that would take her to Cullen's office. She offered the other elf a quick, "Hi, Solas; bye Solas," as she ran through the cylindrical room and made her way outside.

Once she was greeted by the cool mountain air and the sun's warm light she was jogging toward the Commander's office, trying to appear as casual as possible while also rushing to get to her destination. She was aware that she looked like a madwoman, she just didn't have it in her to care.

She considered knocking before entering but, given the time of day, decided against it. He was probably at his desk, up to his eyeballs in paperwork. She would be a distraction, and a surprise one at that. What better way to thank him than to distract him from his work with a surprise? Unfortunately when she pushed open his door, announcing her arrival with the door bursting inward, it was only to find that his office was empty.

A lone soldier stood post, informing Delani that the Commander wasn't in his office, an observation that she'd come to on her own. When Delani investigated, the soldier had no explanation for where Cullen had run off to. He just meekly replied, "The Tevinter mage came for the Commander, said he needed a break."

Brows furrowing, Delani thanked the soldier and left Cullen's office. Where had Dorian taken the Commander? Didn't he know that she needed to thank him? Returning to Skyhold's main building, she strode past Solas with only a nod in acknowledgement. When she stepped out into the main hall she walked over to Varric's writing desk, hoping that the dwarf had seen the Commander or Dorian.

"Did you put out that fire, Inquisitor?" Varric asked, a laugh in his voice as he dipped his quill in ink and pressed the tip to the parchment before him.

Shaking her head in answer, Delani muttered a quiet, "Not yet," before asking him, "Have you seen Cullen or Dorian?" She was hoping for the former, but if Dorian had stolen the Commander then finding him would lead her to her desired target.

"Both actually," Varric informed her, without looking up from his parchment. Vaguely gesturing toward the door across the way, he stated, "Sparkler dragged Curly to the garden, said something about a gentleman's game. Knowing Dorian, I was too afraid to ask."

Now that she knew where to look, Delani thanked Varric for the information and crossed the hall to the door on the opposite side of the hall. Stepping into the garden, she breathed in deeply, taking in the smell of flowers and greenery basking in the day light. It was a gorgeous day, the sun was out, the temperature was comfortable, and the garden's flowers were in full bloom. The garden was lovely, Delani didn't know why she didn't visit it more often.

She found Dorian and Cullen at the far end of the garden, seated under the verandah, a chessboard dividing them. A smile curled the corners of her mouth at the sight of them. Delani supposed she couldn't be mad at Dorian for stealing the Commander when he was actually helping Cullen to relax for once. First she would thank Cullen for saving her people, then she would thank Dorian for being a good friend to Cullen; both men were deserving of praise.

Delani's gaze moved to, then focused on Cullen. His blond hair shone like threads of gold in the daylight, his pale skin had healthy warm undertones. Amber colored eyes were glittering with mirth, careless laughter at a friendly game of chess. The smile on his lips was effortless, and Cullen had to be the most relaxed she had ever seen him. Also the most handsome.

She'd always known that Cullen was handsome, a blind man could have seen that, but she was seeing more than that now. Cullen was kind, caring, compassionate, he was thoughtful, dutiful, and noble. He cared deeply for the soldiers under his command. Every order he gave was given only after heavy thought and consequences considered. He regarded his peers with respect and demanded to be treated with the same. He never forgot what was important and did whatever was necessary to achieve his goals.

Cullen saw what had to be done and he did not waver. That was what had saved her clansmen, that was what had protected her family. He'd seen how important protecting her clan was to Delani and, instead of giving her reasons as to why it couldn't be done, he gave the order and did it. He was a man of action, a man of conscious, a man of honor, and Delani had feelings for him.

She was done shoving her feelings aside out of fear that they were unrequited. She was the Herald of Andraste, even if she didn't believe it, _he_ did. She was the Inquisitor. Delani was more than an elf now. She could reach in any which direction and it would never be considered reaching higher than her station again. She could reach for him and no longer feel undeserving of his attention.

For too long already she'd played the flirt without conviction. Teasing the man was easy, making him blush was fun, making him hers would take more effort. And Delani _would_ make him hers. If he truly had no feelings for her then she would back off. It would be awkward for a while, but it would pass. But if there was even the slightest chance that he felt for her the way she felt for him, then she was going to pursue him like a leopard stalking her prey. She would be relentless, she would not back down, and she was not going to stop until he either told her to or she got what she wanted.

Delani casually approached the verandah, hesitant to interrupt their game, but wanting to watch all the same. Cullen saw her coming out of the corner of his eye and attempted to stand to greet her properly.

"Inquisitor—" Cullen started only to be cut off by the mage.

Chuckling at the Commander, Dorian steepled his fingers plottingly and wondered, "Leaving are you?" A grin spread under his mustache, his eyes sparkling like gems. "Does this mean I win?"

Cullen gave the other man a sharp look, and Delani smiled at the two of them. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she assured the both of them, "Don't stop on my account, I'm fine watching for a bit."

"Alright." Moving his gaze from Delani to Dorian, Cullen quirked a daring eyebrow, the sideways smirk on his lips was confident. Gesturing toward the board, he said, "Your move."

The grin that stretched over Dorian's handsome features was haughty. His tone was teasing when he stated, "You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory." He moved a piece on the board and finished, "You'll feel much better."

"Really," Cullen challenged, setting his chess piece down with some emphasis. Softly chuckling in lighthearted amusement, he observed, "Because I just won, and I feel fine."

Dorian had to double, then triple check the board, as if he didn't quite believe that he'd lost so completely. Shaking his head at being so terribly beaten, Dorian grumbled, "Don't get smug," while pushing himself out of his seat. "There'll be no living with you."

The mage left them with that, fleeing from his defeat before rumor could spread that Dorian Pavus only _talked_ a big game. Delani smiled at Dorian as he left them, giving his shoulder a gentle sympathetic pat. When she returned her attention to Cullen it was to find his gaze already on her. She took a step forward and he cleared his throat.

"I should return to my duties as well," he paused, a hopeful glint in his golden eyes as he regarded her. "Unless you'd care for a game."

Delani immediately grinned in agreement, "Prepare the board, Commander," and stepped up to sit in the chair previously occupied by Dorian.

She'd only played chess twice before in her entire life. One of her clansmen had traded a human a quality pelt for it. When she'd heard the news she'd demanded to know why and her clansman challenged her to a game. After losing she'd demanded a rematch only to lose again. It had been years since her last defeat, but if losing again meant spending time with Cullen then she would happily suffer the embarrassment.

As he set up the board, Delani remembered why she'd been seeking him out in the first place. Admiring his carefree expression, she stated, "I need to thank you, _vhenan'ara_."

Surprised, he looked up from his task with curiosity in his eyes. "Thank me for what, Inquisitor?" he asked, returning his gaze to the board until all of the players were back in their places.

Delani smiled, happy to see him like this. It was always work with him, there was never a time that he was just relaxing for the sake of it. It had taken Dorian dragging him out here for it to happen, but she was glad that she was able to witness him without a report in hand or an entourage of soldiers awaiting instruction.

"For the lives of my clansmen," she explained, her smile wide with gratitude and sincerity. "You were true to your word, you kept them safe."

* * *

That smile. How did she expect him to concentrate when she was giving him that smile? Shaking his head, he replied, "There's no need to thank me, Lady Lavellan. It was my men who did all of the work."

"At _your_ order," she corrected, insisting on thanking him even if he hadn't done anything worthy of her thanks. Her sea green eyes were persistent, she was not going to let this go until he accepted her gratitude. "You promised me that you would keep them safe and you did. Thank you. I will never be able to repay you."

Cullen knew that arguing with her further would only make her more earnest about thanking him. His only choice was to accept her gratitude. Offering Delani a warm smile, he stated, "You're repaying me now," and gestured toward the board.

His heart jumped at the sight of her full lips pulling into a larger smile. _Andraste preserve me_, she was beautiful beyond compare. Her auburn hair shone like silk in the daylight and Cullen ached to thread his fingers through those crimson strands. Her clay colored skin looked soft, warm, and he had mused how she would feel pressed against him more times than he would ever admit. The way Delani's sea green eyes regarded him made him feel superhuman, as though there weren't a single thing that he couldn't do. She was beautiful, and the biggest crime of all was that she had no idea just how beautiful she was.

Clearing his throat and returning his focus to the game, Cullen wondered, "Have you played before?"

She shrugged, her smile turning playful. "Once or twice," Delani answered before, moving a pawn two spaces. It was a weak first move, and a poor way to start the game. To say that she was a novice at chess was being kind. He couldn't help the smile that curled his lips. So there was at least one thing that the Herald of Andraste couldn't do.

Leaning forward, Delani rested her elbows on the table dividing them. "How about you?" she asked, curiosity in her eyes.

Cullen smiled and nodded that he was very familiar with the game. "As a child I played this with my sister." He chuckled at the memory. Growing up, his sister had always been better than him at everything, and she'd always loved to remind him of it. They used to fight like cats and dogs but he had always loved his sister, and he missed her dearly.

Shaking his head, he shooed the memory. He moved a knight in an equally poor move, and returned to their conversation. "She'd get this stuck up grin when she won, which was all the time. My brother and I practiced together for weeks. The look on her face when I finally won."

His smile fell a bit as he considered his family and his home. With so much to do, so many responsibilities to attend to, and so many people that depended on him it was easy for Cullen to get lost in his work. It was times like these, when he had a second to catch his breath, that he remembered how terribly he missed his family. Most days the knowledge that they were safe was enough to satisfy him. Other days he would give a limb if it meant playing another board game with his sister.

"Between the templars and the Inquisition I haven't seen them in years. I wonder if she still plays."

Delani moved another pawn and Cullen wondered if she even knew what she was doing. Her gaze was on him, her eyes alight with surprise. She smiled warmly when she investigated, "You have siblings?"

"Two sisters and a brother," he answered with a nod before moving his knight again and taking one of her pawns, leaving the piece vulnerable for her to take during her next move.

She took the bait and picked up his knight, a self-satisfied smile on her face as she set it aside. Cullen watched her grin to herself and had to wonder how a woman so beautiful came into existence. She was adorable. Delani had taken exactly one of his pieces and she was grinning like she'd just won. It had to be the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

He was fighting back a smile when she inquired more about his family. "Where are they now?" she asked, keeping the conversation going as she faked her way through the chess game.

"They moved to South Reach after the blight." He answered before sighing through his nose and admitting, "I do not write to them as often as I should." before taking his turn.

Cullen was enjoying their easy communication. They hardly ever got the chance to talk so casually without something more important hanging over their heads or looming in the background of their thoughts. Delani was visibly more relaxed now that she knew her clan was safe. She was smiling again, the laugh was back in her eyes, and Cullen was elated to see it again.

Not wanting their conversation to fizzle out, he asked, "How about you?" She looked up to meet his gaze with a question in her eyes. Smiling he clarified, "Do you have any siblings?"

Shaking her head she answered, "I am an only child," only to amend, "Not that that means anything when you live in a clan."

"What do you mean?" he asked, intrigued.

Cullen wanted to learn more about Delani and her people. His knowledge on the Dalish was laughable. But he could recognize power when he saw it. Their clans' hunters were well trained and protective of their people. Their Keepers were said to be powerful mages with access to magic that was foreign to even the Circle. And they'd given the Inquisition Delani, who was a force of nature unto herself. The Dalish were deserving of respect, and he knew of no better way to show this than by learning more about them.

Delani's smile widened and she shrugged in answer. "The clan's children are born and raised together. We may not be siblings by blood, but we are kin." Moving another chess piece, she stated, "In my generation alone there were fifteen of us."

He made a surprised noise, unable to imagine growing up with fifteen other children. His three siblings had been more than enough, another twelve would have been insane. "That is a lot of children."

"That is a single generation," she rebuked with a half smile. "It is not easy living constantly on the move, as we Dalish do. The world is a dangerous place, especially when your ears are sharp like ours."

Though her tone was casual, Cullen could tell that she was missing her home and her people. She spoke of her clan with such fondness that he wished that he could meet them for himself. Would he even be welcomed among them, or would he be considered another human? He moved another chess piece and listened to the sound of Delani's melodic voice as she explained to him what it was like living the way her people did.

"Despite having medicine and healing magic, people die. My parents were actually discouraged from having only one child. If one out of every two children died of illness, injury, or because of bandits then having one child is not only selfish but harmful to the entire clan." Shrugging as though the logic was sound, Delani stated, "The more children we have the better the odds are of our survival."

Brows reaching for his hairline in shock, Cullen wondered, "Is that common?" One out of every two children was far too many children dying to things that should have been avoidable.

She shook her head, the gesture only slightly comforting. "I was just giving an example." A second later she added, "But out of my generation's fifteen children only ten lived to see adulthood."

"That's terrible," Cullen said, not sure what else to say. The thought of so many children losing their lives, it was sickening. No wonder the Dalish hated humans so much. The wilderness already threatened their people as only nature could, but then to also be attacked by ignorant and violent humans. It was a battle on all fronts.

"That's life," she corrected him with an understanding smile.

Cullen stared at Delani for a moment, amazed by her. She was perseverant, stubborn, too strong willed to even have time for weakness. She'd been shaped from the beginning to be something great, and she hadn't the slightest idea how amazing she was.

Not knowing what else to say, but also not wanting their conversation to turn awkward, Cullen asked, "Do you miss them?" only to be rewarded by Delani's heart shattering grin.

"Terribly," she admitted with a laugh.

She moved another chess piece, and Cullen considered how best to retaliate. There were five ways that he could move that would immediately end the game, but ending the game would also mean ending his time with Delani. If he moved his bishop three spaces he could take her knight but also leave his queen open. It would still appear like he was putting up a fight, while also allowing her the satisfaction of winning, and spending more time with her. Sure he lost the game, but he won in the long run.

Taking his queen, Delani elaborated, "They're actually the leading reason why I agreed to become Inquisitor."

"Oh?" he asked, intrigued. He moved a pawn just for the sake of using his turn, if Delani played the way he thought she would, the game would be hers in two more moves.

"As Inquisitor I can do more for the Dalish people," she explained, pressing her tower forward, just like he knew she would. One more move.

Smiling up at Cullen, she continued, "There is a lot of misunderstanding when it comes to my people and everyone else. We harbor old resentments and hatred, but we need to move on; just as people need to understand our traditions and our ways." Taking a moment to consider what she'd just said, she corrected herself. "Well, _understanding_ might be asking for too much. If I can help people to at least respect us it would already be so much more than what we have."

"So you're staying for your people," Cullen summarized, moving his king into position so that she could end the game. Once his king was in place he looked up to meet Delani's sea green eyes. She was staring at him with a foxy smirk on her lips, plots unfolding in her eyes.

Arching a goading eyebrow, she corrected him, "I _joined_ the Inquisition for my people. I'm _staying_ for you." Without breaking eye contact with him, she took his king and ended the game.

Shocked, Cullen felt his cheeks flush. Delani was always flirting with him, teasing him, trying to make him blush. But something about her was different this time. Her lips were still twisted devilishly, her eyes were still glittering with mischief, but Delani's features were sincere.

She was teasing him, but she wasn't joking. Her interest in him was more than a passing flirtation, more than making him blush for sport. Her interest in him was genuine, real, and Cullen needed to remind himself to breathe.

Was it even possible that someone like her could be interested in him? He didn't see how. But her eyes told him otherwise. Cullen swallowed hard and rubbed the back of his neck.

"That's uh… a bold statement," he carefully replied, his cheeks still aflame with his boyish reaction.

She pursed her lips and shrugged. "And an honest one." Delani held his gaze, her expression open, her eyes bright and honest. There suddenly wasn't a wall of propriety up for her, she didn't care that he was the Commander and she was the Inquisitor. Delani was making it clear that she was interested in him and that she didn't intend to play anymore games.

Confidently, she stated, "We should spend more time together."

And, trying to hold his own against her intimidating conviction and self-awareness, he replied, "I'd like that."

"Me too."

His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, thumping against his ribcage. She'd just said that. She wanted to spend more time with him, she was staying with the Inquisition to be closer to him. Delani's interest in him was not a passing flirtation, and there was a legitimate chance that she felt the same way about him as he did for her. Cullen was afraid to blink, afraid that she'd either disappear, or that this was only a dream.

After a second he did blink only to find the gorgeous elf still seated across from him. Their conversation had just happened. She wanted to spend more time with him. Cullen felt like a giddy school boy.

Fighting a grin from his face, he forced her attention back to the chessboard between them and observed, "I believe this one is yours. Well played." He didn't want to leave the garden just yet, to leave her company or the warmth radiating from his chest. But the pile of papers he had abandoned on his desk still needed to be read. As fun as this was, it had to come to an end eventually.

"We will have to try again some time." he stated, hoping beyond hope itself that she would still feel the same way about him even without being in his company.

Delani's eyebrows furrowed with discontentment. She looked down at the board before glaring back at him, her green eyes narrowed with dissatisfaction. "Cullen," she started, her tone serious and unamused. "_Vhenan'ara_, you threw the game."

A smile itched to unfurl on his lips, needing to be freed. He fought the urge, refusing to give away his tell. Clearing his throat, Cullen feigned ignorance as he said, "What ever do you mean, my lady?"

"There were at least five different times that you could have defeated me," she clarified, her eyes sharp, the small smile at the corner of her mouth was scolding. When she finished speaking her tone was insulted. "But you didn't."

Cullen shrugged, trying to play innocent for as long as he could, even if he could tell that Delani wasn't buying it for one second. "I don't know what you're implying."

"I'm implying that you let me win." she spelled it out for him. When Cullen tried to shake his head like he didn't know what she was talking about, her eyes sharpened some more. "You're telling me that the same man who trained for _weeks_ in order to beat his sister lost to _me_, someone who has played this game a total of two times in my entire life?"

A laugh spilled out of him unbidden. She just couldn't accept her victory. Raising an eyebrow, Cullen wondered, "Not fond of winning, are you?"

"Not like this," Delani answered. She started to put the pieces back on the board, her tone full of conviction as she spoke. "My victories are earned, not handed to me. We're playing again, and you're going to let me lose like I deserve."

"If you insist, my lady," he said, trying to disguise his amusement but failing completely. Also setting up his pieces, Cullen informed her, "But it's going to be a rather short game," before gesturing to the board and inviting her to make a move.

She moved a pawn, the same starting move she'd made before. It was going to be an extremely short game. She laughed at his frankness, the sound was not only surprised but admiring as well. "Oh, just listen to that sass. So now your true colors show." Her eyes sought his, warmth in those green depths as she regarded him. "I can't say that I'm surprised."

"No?" He asked, curious as to what she meant. He moved his knight. Four more moves and the game would be his. Wanting an explanation for her observation, he asked, "And why's that?"

"Because you know you're going to win," she answered with a shrug, as though it was obvious. She moved another piece and Cullen corrected his earlier assessment. He could win the game in two moves.

Unaware that she was so close to defeat, Delani stated, "Sass comes easy to those who aren't afraid of losing."

He couldn't help his grin. "That actually explains a lot about you," he admitted before playing his piece.

Delani caught on that her king was vulnerable and quickly moved to defend him. It would only buy her a little more time. This game was his and she knew it as well as he did. She shrugged in reply to his observation before she said, "It explains that I'm a good liar."

"Not as good as you think."

Her eyes sharpened but her lips twisted with delight. Her eyes were glittering with mirth and Cullen could tell that she was enjoying this careless repartee just as much as he was. Scrunching her features up in false distaste, she grumbled, "Yes, yes, you've got some sharp wit to you after all. We're all very impressed."

"I never took you for a sore loser," Cullen playfully scolded her before moving his piece and getting himself that much closer to the end of the game.

Sighing, Delani glared at the chessboard and contemplated her next move. Without looking up at him, her delicate fingers hovered over her bishop before moving to the knight and then returning to the bishop. "Someone alert the criers," she said, still undecided on her next move. "The Herald of Andraste has a flaw."

Cullen sniggered at her comment, his grin expanding when she decided on moving the knight. "Yes," he replied, countering her move. "Your lack of strategy certainly does count as flawed."

"Roguish good looks and boyish charm," she leaned her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. Delani stared at him as though she were trying to figure him out, as though he were some enigma that would haunt her forever. "Tell me, Commander, why must you resort to petty verbal abuse? I assure you, there are easier ways to make me swoon."

He could feel a familiar burn on his face and in his ears. How did she _always_ manage to do that? It was infuriating. He would return the gesture in kind. Sooner or later it would be him causing _her_ to blush, making _her_ flustered. Cullen was determined to see her cheeks flush because of him for a change.

"I—_erm_— I mean…" Blinking himself back into focus, Cullen mumbled a hurried, "It's my move," before taking her king.

"And look at that," she replied with a sigh, but her expression was happy despite her defeat. "I lose."

Surprised that she was taking her defeat so well, Cullen commented, "You got what you wanted, Lady Lavellan."

A wicked smile curled her lips. Delani pushed herself up from her seat and stood in front of the table. Holding Cullen's gaze, she assured him, "I always do, _vhenan'ara_." before leaving him there to stare after her.

Just like that he was blushing all over again.


	8. Chapter 8

Delani was in the garden, secluded from everyone else as she tried to get through a thick pile of reports. She'd thought that doing something she hated in a place that she loved would negate one another and leave her feeling neutral about the task. She'd been wrong. Now she hated the paperwork, the garden, and life itself. This had not been what she'd signed up for when she agreed to be Inquisitor.

Griping and groaning through every page, she was almost through the pile when her saving grace decided to rescue her from the chore. Varric crossed the garden, approaching her with a reluctant smile on his lips. Something was going on with the dwarf. He had news, though it was hard to tell if it was good news or bad news from the expression on his face.

Once he was close enough to speak to her at a casual decibel, Varric greeted her with warmth in his brown eyes. "Hey, Scar," it was a nickname for her nickname. Delani didn't care, as long as he called her anything other than Inquisitor or Herald, she was happy with whatever name he gave her. His tone was teasing when he asked, "Having fun with your paperwork?"

She glared at him for mocking the loath with which she regarded the task. "Yes," she replied flatly, returning her attention to the parchment starting to crumple in her agitated fist. "I am having the most fun I have ever had in the entirety of my life."

"I can tell," Varric rebutted with a chuckle. Standing beside her table, he informed her, "I could hear you complaining from inside."

Delani set the papers down on the table with a touch too much force before plopping her cheek down on the parchment. Giving Varric a pleading look, she wondered, "Is there something that you needed?" It was more than a question, she was begging him to save her, to give her an excuse to forget her task and leave the paperwork behind.

The smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth was conceding. "You remember that contact of mine who had some insight or Corypheus?"

Without lifting her head from the table's surface, Delani nodded.

Nervously clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, Varric informed her, "Well, they've arrived and are ready to talk whenever you are."

"Great!" Delani leaped out of her seat, parchment fluttering all around her when the suddenness of her movements caused the papers to scatter. Without turning to look at the mess she'd made, Delani strode past Varric, urgently nudging his shoulder as she walked by, and said, "Let's go now!"

"They're waiting on the battlements," Varric explained, keeping stride beside her. "Wanted to meet in private."

It didn't matter. Delani would meet whoever wherever if it meant getting away from those reports. The way Varric was behaving was a little curious, however. He looked happier than he usually did, while simultaneously being self-conscious, like if the wrong person caught his smile the jig would be up. As they made their way out of Skyhold's main building and toward the battlements, Delani wondered if the name of the person he was trying to avoid started with a _C_ and ended with an _assandra._

They climbed up onto the battlements and Delani frowned when she found it empty. Turning slightly to the dwarf, she gave him a worried look as she wondered, "Your friend doesn't happen to be imaginary, does it, Varric?"

Chuckling, he shook his head in answer. "Just give 'em a second, Scarlett."

Just then she noticed the female figure descending onto the battlements. She was human, and beautiful too. Short compared to Cassandra, but still taller than Delani, the human carried herself with confidence and a self-awareness that was enviable. Her skin was pale, made rosy from the cool weather, and her eyes were a sharp shade of blue, like a glacier floating at sea. Loose curls of mahogany fell past her shoulders and framed her heart shaped face. Varric's following introduction was unnecessary, Delani already knew who it was.

"Inquisitor," he started, a fondness in his voice that had never been there before. "meet Bella Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall."

Hawke gave Varric a warm look, the smile at the corner of her mouth made it perfectly clear that she regarded him as though he were family. When she met Delani's gaze it was to correct Varric's statement, "Though I don't use that title much anymore."

Giving Varric a sidelong glance, Delani asked, "You are aware that Cassandra is going to kill you, right?"

"Only if you let her," Varric retorted with a scoff, waving off Delani's concern as unnecessary. But it was necessary, and they both knew it. Cassandra had a temper, and this was sure to trigger it. Returning his attention to the other woman, Varric continued with the introductions. "Hawke, this is Inquisitor Lavellan. I figured that you might have some friendly advice on Corypheus."

"Make sure he's dead this time?" Hawke replied with a weary laugh. Ruffling her curls, she mussed them away from her face and peered at the landscape around them before sighing. "Honestly, Inquisitor, I don't know what to tell you that can compare to you dropping half a mountain on that darkspawn bastard."

"Delani is fine," she said, stepping up beside the human. When Hawke peered up at her with confusion in her blue eyes, Delani clarified. "My name is Delani. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to deal with as few formalities as possible."

Smiling at her request, Hawke nodded that she both understood and approved. She stretched out her hand toward Delani and said, "Bella will do just fine then."

She shook the other woman's hand, glad that finally someone had agreed to call her by her name and not her title. When Bella released her hand, Delani crossed her arms in front of her chest and pursued as much as she could about Corypheus from the human. "You don't lack experience. You did save a city from a horde of rampaging qunari, after all."

"I don't see how that applies," Bella replied with a laugh before gesturing toward Skyhold's grounds in demonstration. "There doesn't seem to be a horde of qunari around here, rampaging or otherwise."

"No," Varric agreed from the other side of the platform, a bottle of wine in hand. Taking a swig straight from the bottle, he grinned and said, "We've just got the one. Thank Andraste for that."

The wind swept Bella's curly hair into her face and she patiently brushed it back. Giving Delani an apologetic look, she admitted, "I've fought and killed Corypheus before, and he was dead. Believe me, I know dead when I see it. Last time he was able to influence the Grey Wardens through his connection with the darkspawn."

Stepping up beside the conversing women, Varric looked up from one to the other before informing Delani, "He got into their heads and messed with their minds." Sighing, Varric moved his gaze onto the training ground when he finished. "He turned them against each other."

"If the Wardens disappeared," Bella started, wincing at what would come out of her mouth next and how Delani might take it. "They could have fallen under his influence… again."

Rubbing her fingers into her eyes, Delani sighed deeply. A thousand year old magister was trouble enough on his own. He was far from alone now. "So, Corypheus has the Venatori, the Red Templars, and now possibly the Grey Wardens?" Peeling her digits from her eyes, she met Bella's slightly amused gaze again and grumbled, "That's just wonderful."

"Isn't it though?" Bella retorted, a sympathetic laugh in her voice. Blue eyes glittering with solidarity, she added, "Luckily, I like to balance my bad news with some good. I have a friend in the Grey Wardens named Stroud. He's hiding out in a smuggler's cave near Crestwood and he should be able to offer us some insight on what's going on with his faction."

Nodding in gratitude, Delani admitted, "That's more information than we had an hour ago. I'll have you mark his location on my map, and Cullen can send a few men to scope the area."

Her blue eyes widened at the mention of Commander Cullen's name. Excitedly Hawke stated, "Varric told me that he was with the Inquisition!" Turning her amused gaze onto Delani, Bella wondered, "Tell me, does he still make this face when he's upset?" Bella's face turned serious, her lips pulling downward with displeasure, her eyes turning hard as though it weren't possible for her to feel anymore disappointed than she was feeling right then.

A surprised laugh sounded from Delani at the sight of Bella's face. She knew exactly the expression that the other woman was referring to, having received it at least once or twice since joining the Inquisition. Nodding, Delani was laughing too hard to not choke on her confirmation.

Smiling to herself, Bella informed her, "Oh, I used to get that face all of the time."

"That's because you were always putting the moves on him." Varric explained, a chuckle in his voice and mirth in his brown eyes.

Hawke's nod was agreeing. "It's true," she admitted, a girlish giggle bubbling out of her at the memory. "I had a bit of a crush on him my first few years in Kirkwall. I still haven't recovered from his lack of interest. My ego bruises easily."

Turning her attention to the training soldiers, Bella inspected the rows of men below. After a moment of concentration a grin expanded over her face, and she pointed Delani's attention to the blond haired man with the dark pauldrons covering his shoulders. "Is that him? Training the recruits? Well would you look at that, he's gotten pretty in the last year."

The dwarf stepped between Delani and Bella and stared down below. Finding where Cullen was standing, overseeing the training, he commented, "Now, Hawke, I don't think Fenris would appreciate you making eyes at the Commander."

"Oh, Fenris knows I have only eyes for him," she rebuked with a flippant wave of her hand. Grinning to herself she added, "Anyway, if he were here he'd make eyes at Cullen right along side me."

A moment passed and all the three of them did was watch as Cullen supervised his soldiers' combat training. Leaning her weight on the ledge, Bella observed, "You know what the problem with warriors are?" She glanced at Varric and Delani in time to catch both of them shrugging, gesturing for her to continue with her thought. "They think that brains and brawn are one and the same. Rogues like us need to be twice as fast and four times as smart."

She pushed herself off of the ledge with an irate shove, grumbling, "We're the better fighters yet they're the ones getting all of the recognition. I say someone teaches the Commander what it's like being brought to your knees by a pair of daggers."

Delani smiled at the thought, imagining Cullen on his knees before her. "Now that's a sight I'd like to see."

"You could," Bella replied, giving Delani a sidelong glance. When she saw the elf's gaze snap toward her, Hawke gave Delani her full attention. There was a challenging smirk on her lips, a taunting sparkle in her eyes. Doubtfully shrugging her shoulders, she continued, "That is if you were up to it. I know that you have an image to maintain and all of that."

Quirking an eyebrow, Delani wasn't entirely sure that she appreciated the other woman's tone. Lowly, she returned, "You think I won't?"

Hawke laughed, the sound was demeaning, goading, making it clear that she didn't quite believe that Delani would risk doing anything to tarnish the way the public looked at her. "I know you won't." She supplied before grinning innocently. "You have a reputation to uphold as Inquisitor. Can't let the soldiers see you get your ass handed to you by your commander."

Her jaw fell. Delani blinked hard before shaking the surprise from her features and snapping her mouth back shut. "So not only do you think I won't challenge him to a sparing match, but you also think that I'm going to lose?"

Bella shrugged, unashamed, refusing to take any of it back. "I could weigh you down with iron, cast you into the Waking Sea, and you'd still float," she said, her tone challenging Delani to argue with her, daring her to try and prove her wrong. "Tiny little thing like you, I'm not sure you stand a chance against a strong wind, much less Cullen's Templar training."

Still standing between the two women, Varric's attention had been going from Bella to Delani and back again with each word said. Now that Bella had officially made a challenge, Varric wrung his hands together and tried to talk Delani out of whatever was about to go down. "Scarlett, you don't have to—"

"Fifteen sovereigns says I'll do it," Delani shoved her hand between them, her narrowed eyes daring Bella to shake her hand and take the bet. Glare sharpening, she added to her wager, "And twenty more says I win."

"Put him down in less than ten minutes and I'll give you forty." Bella took her hand and gave it a firm shake, her grin wide and victorious.

"Deal." Delani released Hawke's hand and turned on her heel. She headed for the battlement's stairs so that she could go to where Cullen was supervising his men. Over her shoulder, Delani instructed Hawke to, "Watch and learn, Bella."

Before she made it to the stairs, Delani heard Varric turn to his old friend and say, "You know, Hawke, this is exactly the reason why I can't take you anywhere."

"You love it, Tethras," Hawke replied with a self-satisfied laugh. "And you owe me ten sovereigns. Told you I could bait anyone into anything."

Delani didn't have it in her to care that she'd just been goaded into challenging Cullen to a fight. She hadn't had a chance to speak to the Commander all day. What better way to say hello than by picking a fight with him? There was no way that she was going to lose this bet, even if she had to fight dirty in order to win. Delani only hoped that the Commander would make it the ten minutes. She didn't want to embarrass him too badly in front of his men.

* * *

"Lift your shield," Cullen shouted at the recruit, his voice booming and authoritative. "Square your shoulders and keep your feet grounded!" The Inquisition's forces grew everyday but, Maker, some of these recruits were still boys. "If you insist on getting yourself killed, at least make your enemy work for it."

Waving for the two soldiers to give it another go, Cullen shouted, "Again!" and gave them both a word of praise when their performance improved on the second attempt.

Cullen moved down the line, watching as the combat training went on. Normally he left this task to his captain but, on occasion, he felt the need to supervise training himself. Despite the cool mountain air, there wasn't a single cloud to disrupt the sun's rays, and Cullen could feel sweat start to bead on his brow, and dripping down his back.

He glanced at the soldier standing at attention beside him and asked, "How are we doing on water?"

"There are barrels ready, Commander." the soldier supplied.

Nodding once, Cullen instructed him to, "Make sure everyone is getting plenty to drink. I won't have anyone falling to dehydration."

The soldier saluted, "Yes Sir!"

"You sure are working your men hard, _vhenan'ara._" He turned at the sound of Delani's melodic voice coming from behind him. She had a confidence to her step, an eagerness to her gait, a roguishness to her gaze that immediately put Cullen on edge. He knew Delani well enough to know what that look meant: trouble.

Returning his attention to his men, Cullen placed his hands on the pommel of his sword and cleared his throat. He could feel it when she stepped up to stand beside him, could feel her proximity and knew that he could break it with a stretch of his arm. Cullen gave the elf woman a sidelong glance and felt his heart flutter in his chest.

Her auburn hair shone like strands of crimson under the sun, her skin glowing like copper, and her sea green eyes were more brilliant than any gems known to man. She stood almost as tall as his shoulder, her hands on the swell of her hips as she regarded the men training in front of them. Delani was wearing her typical Dalish garbs, her tights hugging her legs snuggly, and her tunic was form fitting, intimately following the shape of her womanly curves. She was the strangest combination of delicate and dangerous, and Cullen found it hard to breathe when he was in her company.

"It's the best way I know to keep them alive, Inquisitor," Cullen replied to her observation, trying to keep his tone professional but finding it difficult when she smirked at him like that.

Delani nodded slowly, her lips pursed in thought. He could hear the underlying plot in her tone when she stated, "You train fine warriors, Commander."

His tone was cautious as he replied, "Thank you," and he narrowed his eyes a bit.

Cullen could feel that something was about to happen, but he hadn't the slightest idea what. He could tell just by looking at Delani that she was planning something, he could see the wheels turning behind her sea green eyes, and all he could do was wait for her to let him in on whatever it was. Luckily he didn't have to wait long.

"So, tell me, _vhenan'ara_," she turned her body to face him, the smirk on her lips was wolfish and Cullen swallowed hard. "Have you fought very many enemies?"

She was asking after his qualifications? Now? Cullen couldn't help but wonder why. He watched as she started to walk a slow circle around him, his curiosity eclipsing the intimidation she'd probably been aiming for.

Without shifting from his position, Cullen turned his head to see her coming back around to his front. "Yes," he said in answer to her question, his tone firm, controlled, suspicious.

Delani stopped in front of him, her hands resting casually on her hips as she stepped toe to toe with him. The smirk on her lips grew at the sight of his eyes dilating slightly, his nose flaring as he breathed in the mouthwatering scent of wildflowers. She was so close. If Cullen craned his head down a bit he would've been able to push his lips against hers, taste her, finally feel her swollen lips pressed against his. Cullen tried desperately not to think about what she would feel like, her body against his. Maker strike him down, his thoughts were starting to warm his blood.

Tilting her head slightly, she asked, "And what would you say is the most difficult adversary you've encountered?"

The moment she turned from him was the moment he was free from her spell. He sucked in a deep, calming breath and tried to convince his racing heart back down to a steady beat. Delani walked a few steps away, her gait like that of a wild cat. She was sizing him up, he realized, taking stock of his build and stance. But why? What was she up to?

"Two handed warriors," he answered truthfully. A warrior who knew how to properly wield a battle axe or a great sword could cut a man in half with a single swing. They took greater damage, and were damn difficult to take down. Men like Iron Bull were easily considered legendary for good reason. Even without lyrium, Cullen's templar abilities held their own against the strongest of mages, but sometimes a war hammer simply outmatched a sword and shield.

Delani nodded, accepting his answer but also looking disappointed by it. The look she gave him was predatory, the smile on her lips appearing more akin to a snarl. "You warriors," she started after _tsking_ at him in scolding. "So infatuated with your own strength, as if it were impossible for someone with less brawn to outclass you."

She sauntered over to the table at the edge of the training grounds, where the practice weapons were laid out for grabs, and Cullen had to tear his gaze from the sway of her hips. Delani walked her fingers over the table's surface, before turning to face him and leaning her bottom against the table's edge. Her head was tilted as she gauged him, her auburn hair catching the sunlight and reflecting it like silk.

Sea green eyes narrowed in on him, challenging him, goading him, and Cullen couldn't help but find the look she was giving him to be mind numbingly sexy. He wondered if this was part of her game, if she was trying to seduce him so that he let his guard down. If it was, it was working.

"How you so easily forget about rogues," she stated, despondency in her voice as she untied a leather band from her wrist and combed her auburn hair away from her face. Holding her hair back, she managed to tie the leather band into a tight knot and secure her hair into a ponytail.

Cullen swallowed hard. Delani's hair was always worn down, the crimson strands falling well past her shoulders like silken threads colored by blood. When her hair was pulled back like that, her entire beautiful face revealed to him, he found it difficult to breathe. He could clearly see the scars marring her face, the line of discolored flesh that started at her brow and ended on her cheek, and another on the opposite side of her face that started at the corner of her jaw and traveled toward her mouth.

He'd noticed the scars before, what he hadn't noticed was that they were lovely, what he hadn't acknowledged was how badly he wanted to brush a trail of kisses over each of her scars before ending on her lips. Did she even know how beautiful she was? Had she any idea what she was doing to him when she looked at him like that? Cullen fought for control over the warmth spreading through him. He tried to remind himself of the importance of professionalism. She was his superior, he was her general, people were watching.

_Keep it together, you fool_, he scolded himself, tightening his grip on the pommel of his sword.

Slowly Delani started to undo the knots that kept her snug fitting tunic together and Cullen felt his throat tighten with surprise. Her motions were meant to challenge him, he knew, not seduce him, but the result was the same. With each knot undone Cullen cared less and less for propriety and wanted nothing more than to claim her lips with his own. Maker, where had this woman come from?

Once her tunic was completely undone, it was clear to see that all she wore underneath was a breast band. His blood was pumping in his ears as he watched her shrug out of her tunic. Delani's _vallaslin_ did not end at her chin. With her chest, shoulders, and torso bare in the daylight, Cullen could clearly see the crimson branch like markings covering her shoulders and traveling over and around her biceps. When she turned around he gaped at the intricate line work coursing down her spine and over her shoulder blades. Her markings were breathtaking, just like the rest of her.

She was thin, comprised primarily by lean muscle and Cullen would be surprised to discover if she had even a shred of fat on her. Her biceps bulged with strength, her stomach was flat, curving and dipping with the shape of her abdominals. Her tunic did her curves no justice, seeing them now was disorienting.

He didn't know how he felt to discover that the scars on Delani's face were not the only ones she had. Though they certainly did add to her sex appeal, they also served to remind him that she was not nearly as indestructible as she often pretended to be. Delani could get cut, she could get hurt, she could bleed, and she could die. And that train of thought only served to make him want her all the more. He would protect her, he would serve her, he would do damn near anything for her, and it was a startling realization.

When Delani turned back around it was with a practice sword and shield in hand. She walked only close enough to toss them at him. Luckily Cullen had gathered himself enough to catch the wooden weapon and shield, and not make a fool of himself in front of his men. He stared down at the weapons in confusion, not quite sure what she intended him to do with them.

He glanced back up in time to catch Delani return from the table with a pair of daggers in her hands. She was twirling the wooden blades, before lifting one toward Cullen and grinning devilishly at him. "I think its time I familiarize you with defeat, Commander." Her smile grew. "Maybe then, the next time I ask you that question, your answer will be different."

Cullen looked back down at the practice sword and shield in his hands. She wanted to spar, did she? He allowed a small smile to curl his lips. This was not a game of chess. If Delani wanted to spar then he would not go easy on her. She'd boasted about how her victories were earned, but this one would not be earned so easily; or at all, for that matter.

Striding over to one of the soldiers, who stood gaping at the Inquisitor, Cullen handed the man the practice weapons. He gave the soldier a hard look, wordlessly reprimanding him for gawking at his superior. He didn't care about Delani's current state of undress, only _he_ could look at her like that.

Carefully he took off his gloves, then his cloak, his armor, and when he was all the way down to his undershirt, Cullen removed it as well. He glanced at Delani and smiled to himself. Her mouth was hanging open slightly, her eyes wide and dilated. Cullen was pleased to discover that he had the same effect on her as she did on him.

He accepted the practice weapons back from the soldier and turned to face Delani. Allowing a smirk to twitch at the corner of his mouth, Cullen warned her, "I will not go easy on you, my lady."

The gasp that sounded from her was teasing. "Creators forbid, _vhenan'ara_." Her smirk was piercing and, if he'd been a lesser man, Cullen might have reconsidered agreeing to spar with her. "When I bring you to your knees it will be because I put you there with skill alone."

"Alright, Inquisitor," he rumbled, growing tired of her arrogance. Arching an eyebrow, Cullen wondered, "Let's put your skills to the test, shall we?"

The second his question was asked Delani was on the move. She was charging at him and Cullen lifted his shield in order to meet her direct attack. When she twisted out of his shield's path, he'd been expecting it, and he moved right along side her, keeping his shield between them at all times. Delani was as fast as she was graceful, but she was also over-confident and reckless. And, in the end, his self-control and awareness would see him victorious.

Cullen kept his sword trained on Delani, waiting for her next attack, anticipating for her to come at him bold and brazen again. He only had to wait a short breath before she followed through. Delani ran straight for him before faking to the right, twisting to the left, kicking up her food to jostle his shield, and thrusting her dagger behind the plank of wood.

Her wooden dagger nearly made contact with him. Had he not jumped out of the way when he did, she would have scraped the practice weapon against his stomach. Before Cullen could pin her arm between his shield and his torso, Delani pulled back and rolled away, swiveling on her knees until she was kneeling behind him.

He retaliated just in time to bring his shield around to meet her wooden dagger. The sound of cheering faintly registered in the background of his mind. Cullen was only partially aware that they were being watched, their audience growing as their fight went on. For the time being, Delani had his undivided attention. If that stopped being true for even a second, it could cost him the fight.

Cullen pushed his shield forward and Delani leaped back a step. A laugh sounding from her, provoking him. When he swiped his sword at her she was no longer standing where she'd just been. He turned a second before her dagger could make contact with his cheek, parrying the attack with his sword. She turned her body out of the way of his shield coming down on her, and again she was circling him.

Keeping his gaze trained on Delani, he followed her as she circled him, not allowing her to get a view of his back. She twirled the daggers in her hands, putting on a show for their audience as the two of them circled one another. Having had quite enough of her arrogance, Cullen was the first to make a move and he realized too late that it was exactly what she'd wanted.

Delani watched as he charged at her, his practice sword lifted and ready to strike. The moment that he was within sweeping distance she ducked out of the blade's path, bounced off of his shield and wound up behind him. Cullen reacted quickly, pulling his shield around to catch the brunt of her next attack. It was exactly what she'd been expecting.

As Cullen moved his shield bearing arm to deflect her attack, Delani moved with his momentum and managed to rip his shield from his grasp. It happened so quickly. One moment Cullen was moving, could feel the air flow around him, his sweat beading down his back, his breath expelling from him, and then he blinked and Delani had a grasp on his shield and followed his movements until she was able to rip the straps from his arm.

His recovery was seamless, firmly adjusting his grip on his sword. He smirked at the sight of premature victory shining in her eyes. She thought that without his shield he would no longer be able to hold his own against her, but Cullen was a warrior. His blade was an extension of himself. He was not weaker without his shield, he simply had more mobility this way.

He swung his sword left and right, goading Delani like she had goaded him. Victory shone bright in her eyes, arrogance pulling at her lips, and just like that she had taken the bait. Delani ran toward him, her pace casual, as though she were just drawing out the fight. Later Cullen would shake his head at her overconfidence, now he was going to teach her that even practice blades left bruises.

Cullen jabbed at Delani with his blade, and she pivoted out of the way. Arching her body to the side she slashed her dagger toward him only for his sword to block the blow. When she tried to follow up the attack with her second dagger, Cullen backed up a step, brought up his wooden sword to catch the attack, and parried the blow with enough force to send the dagger flying.

Another cheer broke out now that the fight appeared to be even, though it wasn't. Cullen could manage just fine without his shield, but Delani's every instinct demanded two daggers. With only one, it was like Cullen had removed an arm and no amount of arrogance was going to save her from defeat.

Lifting his practice blade above his head, a roar bellowed from him as he brought the wooden sword down. Delani sidestepped his attack and ended up standing beside him. With viperlike reflexes she attempted to stab her wooden blade down, to catch him in the neck, but Cullen lifted his forearm to collide with hers, stopping her attack mid-strike.

The world slowed for a moment when his eyes met hers. In the span of a second her eyes narrowed with outrage, a smirk coiled her lips, and Cullen felt himself falling to the ground. Delani had swiped his legs out from under him, and Cullen had enough sense to react before she jabbed his chest with her wooden dagger. Just barely rolling completely out of her path, he kicked himself back onto his feet and lifted his sword in time to defend himself against a series of serpent like strikes.

Cullen met each blow with his sword, allowing her to continue to strike him until she'd worn herself out. The moment that he noticed her movements start to slow, he changed the flow of their battle. Instead of brunting her attacks, Cullen returned them with force and fervor. Soon Delani was being pushed back, unable to avoid him even if she tried to twirl, spin, or leap out of his path. Cullen stayed on her, kept bearing down on her, gave her no quarter until it was clear in her sea green eyes that she knew that he had won.

Just when Cullen thought that the match was his, Delani surprised him. She raised her dagger to meet his sword as it fell toward her, like she'd already done several times before. The moment their wooden weapons met there was the slightest of openings, and Delani used it to launch herself at Cullen. Surprised by the suddenness of her attack, Cullen was tackled to the ground by the tiny elven woman.

They rolled, and he had enough self-awareness to move his practice sword into position. The moment that their bodies stopped moving, the moment the dust settled, Cullen allowed a victorious grin to spread over his lips. His wooden sword was hovering just over Delani's neck, a fatal blow should this have been a real fight.

"It appears my answer remains unchanged, Inquisitor," he said, not bothering to try and disguise his simper.

Delani lifted her head off of the ground and snapped her teeth at him, their lips nearly touching at her proximity. When Cullen immediately felt his cheeks flush at the gesture, a mischievous grin expanded over her lovely lips and she purred, "I wouldn't be so sure, Commander."

He felt a tapping on his side, and looked down only to find that her dagger was positioned in what would have easily been a killing blow as well. A laugh spilled out of him and Cullen shook his head. Looking back down at Delani, he murmured, "It looks like we have a draw."

Shrugging, Delani picked her head up again and brought her face so dangerously close to his. Cullen froze at her proximity, focusing on the smell of her filling his nose. Her voice was deep when she next spoke, husky yet sweet like smoked applewood. "Then perhaps we should have a tie breaker."

Suddenly he realized their position. Cullen had the Inquisitor pinned down, his weight imprisoning her beneath him. Their lips were near to touching, and both of them were wearing next to nothing. How many times had he already fantasized about getting her into this position? In none of those fantasies did he have a courtyard full of onlookers, cheering over their impressive show of skill.

Cullen jumped off of Delani faster than he thought physically possible. Offering her his hand, he helped her back onto her feet as well. Once she was standing Delani tried to reclaim her fingers from his, but Cullen tightened his hold on her hand. With a gentle tug he pulled her a step closer to him. Cullen dipped his head down a bit, bringing his mouth to her pointed ear.

The smell of her was intoxicating, emboldening him with a courage reserved for the drunk. It must have been the adrenaline of a good fight, but suddenly Cullen could care less about propriety or professionalism. Delani Lavellan was a woman with no equal, and he wanted her for himself.

"That was fun," he admitted, his voice a deep and vibrating rumble. "But you're going to have to try a bit harder if you want to put me on my knees, Delani."

Her eyes widened at the sound of her name, her nostrils flaring as she sucked in a deep, surprised breath. Cullen watched in amazement as, for the first time in their entire relationship, a blush started to spread over Delani's cheeks. The way she was looking at him was as though she were seeing him for the first time, and Cullen had to bite back a sense of self-satisfaction that grew with the knowledge that _he_ had made _her_ blush.

"I—um.. What I mean to say is—" she stammered, blinking rapidly as she tried to gather her bearings. With a quick shake of her head, Delani recovered herself enough to allow a small abashed smile to curl her lips. She looked shy and self-conscious, and Cullen wondered how one woman could have so many different sides.

Carefully holding his gaze, Delani replied, "Then I will have to try harder next time, _my heart's desire_."

He'd had to strain to hear the last part of her sentence, but hear it he did. Cullen held her beautiful green gaze and he knew. True to her word, Delani had finally translated her nickname for him. At last he knew what _vhenan'ara _ meant: _my heart's desire_. The only thing that kept him from kissing her was the feeling of a hundred eyes watching them closely.


	9. Chapter 9

What had started as foolish confidence had quickly turned into unbearable anxiety. Cullen had been so bold that day on the practice grounds, too bold it seemed. After their little sparring match Delani had wasted no time packing up and heading out to meet with Hawke's contact in the Wardens. She'd left for Crestwood without so much as a goodbye, and Cullen knew that he'd made a mistake.

He'd called her by her first name. Cullen had succumbed after weeks, _months,_ of professionalism and restraint, and he'd finally addressed the Inquisitor as Delani, as if it were his right to call her that. In exchange she'd finally told him what _vhenan'ara_ meant, fulfilling the terms of an arrangement that he had never agreed to. The meaning of the elven word hadn't stopped humming through his veins, more seductive than the lure of lyrium.

_My heart's desire_. All this time she'd been telling him right to his face exactly how she felt about him. He'd assumed it to be a nickname, like the ones that Varric so generously handed out. Learning that it was more than a nickname, more than a pet name, but an admission to romantic feelings… the thought made Cullen grin without restraint. Perhaps Delani felt the same about him as he did her, after all. He needed to talk with her about this, about what would change in their relationship—if anything at all. But he couldn't talk to her until she returned from her journeys.

Two weeks had already passed and still Delani was out on the field. Reports said she would be back soon, but suddenly Cullen was nervous about seeing her again. What if she'd been calling him _vhenan'ara_ just to enjoy a private joke. Or maybe she said it the same way that Vivienne called everyone 'darling'. He tried to recall if she'd ever called anyone else by his pet name, but no one else came to mind. Delani referred to Solas as _Lethallin_ and to Cole as _da'len_, but aside from them no one else had earned names in her native tongue.

Cullen's fingers were drumming on the surface of his desk as he thought, too distracted by his restless mind to focus on the field reports waiting for his attention. He knew that he needed to speak with Delani, what he didn't know was what he would say. After two weeks to think and plan he still had no idea how the conversation would transpire.

He knew what he wanted to happen. Cullen wanted to speak privately with Delani, perhaps in the chapel beside the garden, and he wanted to ask her what she meant when she called him _vhenan'ara_. Not what the words meant, but what the words meant to _her_ when she used them on him. Did she truly feel romantically toward him? Was it even possible? And if she did, did she want anything to come of it?

His desires were easy. Cullen wanted Delani. He wanted to hold her, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to taste her, and breathe her in. Cullen wanted to learn everything that there was to know about her, and none of that mattered until he knew whether or not she wanted the same things. What she wanted was all that mattered to him. If being with him was actually something that she wanted, then he would pursue what came next. If not… if not, he would be disappointed but he would understand.

When it became clear that he would get no work done while his mind was adrift in the clouds, Cullen pushed himself out of his seat and left his office behind. Leliana had been getting frequent reports from her crows in regards to Delani's progress. If anyone could tell him when he should expect the Inquisitor to be back, it was she.

Crossing the walkway that led from his office to the main hall, Cullen entered the finely painted cylindrical room. Solas was seated at his desk, contemplating an artifact of some kind. The apostate looked up from his task and bowed his head in respectful greeting at the sight of the Commander entering his workspace.

Cullen nodded in kind before finding the winding stairwell that would take him to the library and then to Leliana's rookery. He and Solas had spoken on a few occasions, enough for Cullen to get an accurate read on the apostate. Solas was wise, opinionated, proud, and a good friend to Delani. His words held weight to the Inquisitor, sometimes more weight than they should have. He was respectful and mindful of those around him and so, even if Cullen was cautious towards him, he did not dislike the elf.

He climbed the last step to the library and started around the loop that would take him to the next stairway, only to be intercepted by a mustached Tevinter mage. Dorian stepped out in front of him, mischief in his smile and trouble in his grey eyes. Cullen sighed at the sight of Dorian's devilish expression, and fought back a small smile at the same time.

Dorian had this way about him. He could be the most arrogant and narcissistic brat that had ever lived, while also being the most charming, kind hearted, and thoughtful person in the room. Sometimes maintaining conversation with the man was equal parts dizzying and intriguing. Though Cullen's objective was to pester Leliana on whether or not she knew when to expect Delani's return, he welcomed the distraction Dorian promised to be. Truly any distraction from thoughts of the Inquisitor were welcome right about now.

"My, my, Commander," Dorian started in that playful sing song way of his. "Where are we off to in such a hurry?"

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, allowing himself to detour from his course in order to speak with the mage. Stepping into the little nook Dorian had claimed for himself, Cullen offered the other man a sideways smile as greeting and turned his attention out the window.

Resting his hands on the pommel of his sword, Cullen answered Dorian's question. "I was going to speak to Lady Leliana," he admitted, his gaze still on the snowy mountains surrounding Skyhold. "I was curious to see if she knew when the Inquisitor was expected to be returning."

"Again?" Dorian asked, a laugh in his voice that was just mocking enough to pull a narrowed look from Cullen. Rubbing his chin curiously, he investigated, "Weren't you just here a few days ago after the same information?"

"I—" Cullen felt his cheeks burn and he cleared his throat. Straightening his spine, he recovered, "I have pressing matters to discuss with the Inquisitor."

Dorian's grey eyes sharpened a touch, the look he gave the Commander was knowing. Graciously deciding to not provoke Cullen further, he stated, "I imagine that Lady Leliana's answer remains unchanged, Commander. Crestwood may not be far in regards to distance, but I can guess that the journey is tiring all the same."

Quirking a curious eyebrow, Cullen wondered, "Is that why you didn't go?"

A smile curled Dorian's lips. He absently twirled his mustache as he answered, "Oh no. I didn't go because I was not invited." His words implied that Dorian felt slighted over being left behind, but his tone spoke only of relief and gratitude because of the same reason.

Sighing, he added, "Honestly, I'd gotten enough of dreary weather and undead in the Fallow Mire. Lady Lavellan leaving me behind was an act of righteous mercy, and I will have to thank her properly upon her return; perhaps with a bottle of fine Orlesian wine." Dorian continued to twirl his mustache as he thought over the proper gift. "It's not nearly as good as the wine we have in Tevinter, but it will do."

Allowing a small smile to hint at his lips, Cullen regarded the mage closely. Dorian was an odd man, but a good one all the same. There had been a point in Cullen's life where he'd simply refused to believe that mages could be treated like people. He'd been wrong. Dorian was a person, he had his faults —even if he refused to acknowledge them as such— he had his weaknesses, and he was good. Cullen had hated mages, but that hate had dissipated over the years. Now when he looked at Dorian he could see beyond the magic, he could see the person, Cullen could see a friend.

"How are you liking the Inquisition, Dorian?" Cullen asked, walking further into the nook so that he would be able to lean against the window. Without looking over his shoulder to where Dorian was still standing, he added, "What are your thoughts on the Inquisitor?"

"Always with the questions. You sure are a curious lot, aren't you?" Dorian groaned as he eased himself into the large chair surrounded by piles upon piles of books. "I suppose that's why they call you the Inquisition."

After snickering softly to himself, Dorian quickly moved on to answer Cullen's questions. "The Inquisition is still in its adolescence, dear Cullen." When Cullen glanced back, the mage was seated languidly in his chair, hands behind his head and more comfortable than any person had any right to be. "Against a force like the one Corypheus has, well, we stand a chance though it might not be a very good one."

Dorian sighed. "I suppose if I'm going to die for any particular cause, it may as well be this one." After a moment he moved on to Cullen's second question. "In regards to Delani, well, she is a treat."

At the mention of Delani, Cullen gave Dorian his full attention. He crossed his arms comfortably over his chest and leaned his back against the brick wall. Pursuing the topic, he wondered, "How so?"

"She's a fiery ball of snark and sass, that one," Dorian answered with a laugh. "She has the perfect balance of cunning and insanity to give me hope that we may have the slightest chance. I've grown quite fond of her, if I'm being perfectly honest. I find her dry wit endearing. And her smiles are a rare enough commodity for me to cherish the few I earn."

Cullen rose a brow at that. He recalled all of the interactions that he had shared with Delani. During a vast majority of them Cullen had witnessed Delani's smile in some shape or another. The curl of her lips was enchanting, alluring, intoxicating, but they were not _that_ hard to come by. If Cullen managed to embarrass himself just so he was always rewarded with a smile. He decided to call Dorian out on his nonsense.

"What are you on about, Ser Pavus?" Cullen asked, genuinely confused as to whether or not they were speaking about the same person. "I would hardly go so far as to call Lady Lavellan's smiles 'rare'."

Another laugh burst out from Dorian. He was amused by the confusion on Cullen's face, finding the Commander's ignorance entertaining. When he noticed that Cullen did not share in his amusement, Dorian forced his grin down a degree and bit back the rest of his laughter. Regarding Cullen as though he were a clueless child, he explained, "That is because our fair Inquisitor has a soft spot for you, Commander."

His heart leapt at that. Cullen stared hard at Dorian, wordlessly demanding an explanation. Was it true? Did Delani truly share her smiles with him because she cared about him? It was too much to hope for. Though, the evidence was there. She called him her heart's desire, and her behavior towards him was enough to draw the attention of onlookers. Perhaps Delani having feelings for him was not as impossible as it seemed.

"I can't say I blame her," Dorian went on, unaware of Cullen's internal turmoil. He gave Cullen an astute once over before returning his attention to his cuticles and commenting, "She has good taste in men. I know a good looking man when I see one; which is every time I look in a mirror, which is often, I can't help myself."

Cullen cleared his throat at Dorian's observation, feeling a telling heat burn under the surface of his skin. "I—uh… Thank you..?" He would take the compliment and the information he'd gathered with it. Delani had feelings for him, what exactly they were, and how strong, he didn't know yet. Once she returned they would discuss it at length, Cullen just needed to figure out what exactly he would say to her.

Giving Dorian a departing smile, Cullen excused himself from the conversation. "Thank you for your time, Dorian, but I must be on my way."

When Cullen walked back the way he came, towards the descending stairwell instead of the one that led to the rookery, Dorian called after him. "I thought that you had to speak to our spy master?"

"Another time perhaps," he replied over his shoulder. "There is much work to be done." Cullen left the library and returned to the path that would take him to his office. Delani would be back soon, it was what Leliana would have told him if he asked. Her being away from Skyhold meant that he had some more time to strategize what he was going to say to her.

* * *

Snow broke under her feet, the white powder giving way to the trudge of her boots. Delani was dragging her feet and she knew it, but the very thought of returning to Skyhold made her sick. Cullen was at Skyhold, and she was going to have to face him eventually. Her stomach turned and Delani took a deep breath to chase away the nervous anxiety taking root in her gut.

After months of practically begging for him to call her by her name, he finally had. She'd been goaded by Hawke into a bet and challenged Cullen to a sparring match. The whole thing had left her breathless, the memory of it still stole the oxygen from her lungs.

Cullen had followed her lead and undressed until he stood bare chested before her. She'd gaped at him, her jaw hitting the ground at the sight of ropes on top of ropes of muscle. He had wide set shoulders and an expansive chest, his biceps were thick and strong, his abdominals were mouthwateringly defined, and he had this thicket of golden hair that started at his navel and traveled down to the waistband of his trousers.

Delani remembered how her eyes had widened at the sight of him, how her stomach had fluttered, and how her blood had warmed. He'd put up a better fight than she had expected him to. Perhaps it was arrogance, but Delani had been so sure that she could take him down within ten minutes time. As it turned out, Cullen was a better sparing partner than she'd anticipated, and their little dance had left her hot and bothered by the end of it.

Feeling his weight pressing down on top of her, his face only a few inches from hers. It had been something straight out of her fantasies, and Delani had wanted to steal his lips with hers so badly. When she tactlessly brought attention to their precarious position, Cullen had leaped from on top of her as though he might catch a disease. Delani had immediately missed his weight, his warmth, the feeling of his sweat slickened body pressed against hers.

He'd pulled her onto her feet, chivalrous and respectful as always, but instead of letting her go he had pulled her closer. The act of tugging her toward him had been strange enough, but then he'd said it, Cullen had called her by her name.

"_You're going to have to try a bit harder if you want to put me on my knees, Delani."_

His voice had been a low, seductive, sensual rumble. The sound of it had been an odd combination of sedating and invigorating, comforting and challenging, it had been an invitation and a provocation. Her heart had picked up in pace, drumming excitedly against her ears, her blood had warmed until she'd been fidgety with needy discomfort. Cullen had said her name and her entire body had awoken at the sound of it.

She had made a deal with him. When he finally decided to address her by her name she would tell him what _vhenen'ara_ meant. Delani did not back away from deals. He had held up his part of the bargain, and all that was left for her to hold up her own. Feeling nerves grow in her gut, she'd told him the meaning.

"_Then I will have to try harder next time, my heart's desire."_

_My heart's desire_. She'd translated the words for him and then she had fled. Delani had put together a team as quickly as possible, giving Blackwall, Vivienne, and Cassandra next to no time to prepare. After announcing to Hawke that she was ready to go to Crestwood now, _right now_, they'd all left Skyhold in search of Hawke's friend in the Wardens.

It had been quite the relief to be away from Skyhold, away from Cullen, for some time. After her admission, Delani was certain that he thought that she was a mad woman. What kind of person gave someone they barely knew a pet name like 'my heart's desire'? Crazy people, that's who. And that was probably what Cullen now thought of her.

Delani groaned as she dragged a hand down her face. They were so close to Skyhold now, with Stroud and valuable information in tow. They would be there soon, and she was going to have to face Cullen. He was going to tell her how uncomfortable she made him, how her interest in him was unreciprocated, and he was going to tell her that he thought it was best if their relationship stayed professional.

_Ugh_. She'd been a fool, a complete and total fool. And now she was going to have to see what that foolishness had earned her.

When Bella Hawke strode up beside her, Delani had barely noticed her until it was already too late. The sound of the other woman's mischievous voice shocked her out of her thoughts and back into reality.

"What's with the glower, Inquisitor?" asked Bella, a smile in her voice that was also present in her eyes. When Delani turned to look at the taller woman, Bella explained, "You've been scowling ever since we left Crestwood."

A mahogany eyebrow quirked and the corner of Bella's lips tilted up into a foxy smirk. Her tone was teasing when she ventured, "You're not in a sour mood because we're returning to Skyhold, and you have to see Cullen again; are you?" Her smirk grew into a grin at the sight of Delani's eyes widening with surprise. Shrugging, she elaborated, "You know, because he beat you."

A breath of relief escaped her. Bella was right, but only partly so. Narrowing her eyes on the human, Delani corrected her observation, "He did not _beat_ me; it was a draw." Giving Bella a nettled look, she finished, "And you still owe me coin, Hawke."

"No," Bella replied with an indignant shake of her head. Her curls bounced around her face, her pale skin was rosy from the cold, and her blue eyes had a lively shine as she reminded Delani about the terms of their wager. "I already paid you for challenging him. The rest of the coin was if you'd won. And, like you said, it was a draw."

Delani's only reply was a disgruntled huff and a shake of her head.

"Although," Bella bumped her arm against Delani's in a playful manner. "There is still some unresolved tension between the two of you, much in need of release; you know the kind I'm referring to, don't you, Inquisitor?"

She gave the _shemlan_ a sidelong glance. Delani did in fact know the kind of tension that Hawke was referring to, and she also knew that Bella had no idea what she was talking about. There was no sexual tension between her and Cullen. 'Sexual tension' would require romantic desires from both mentioned parties. Delani wanted Cullen, she wanted to be with him, but what would a man like him ever want with an elf? At any rate, it hardly mattered. She'd scared him off good and proper already. Whatever chances she'd once had with Cullen were as good as gone.

Noticing the doubtful look in Delani's features, Bella rolled her eyes in annoyance. She glanced back at their companions, making sure that they had sufficient room for a veneer of privacy to have this conversation. Satisfied that no one would over hear them, Bella's attention returned to Delani and a smile unraveled on her heart shaped lips.

"Come now, Delani," Bella started as though she were speaking to a child. "I've seen the way you look at each other. There is definitely something there, whether or not you believe it."

Delani also looked back at their companions. They were trailing some distance behind, conversing among themselves as she and Bella led them back to Skyhold. Returning her attention forward they walked a few steps before she sucked in a deep breath and replied.

"Whatever chance I had with the Commander was ruined," Delani admitted, watching her feet as she continued to press the group forward. "I doubt he'll even want to look at me now."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Bella said with a scoff. The look she gave Delani was scolding, her sharp blue eyes narrowed with disappointment. "I pursued that man for years, Delani." she reminded her. "I used all my best moves and everything. And believe you me, I can be charming when I want to be."

Sounding both exasperated and incredulous, Bella informed her, "He never so much as batted an eyelash at me. But with you," she shook her head, and Delani's heart began to swell with hope. When the other woman's blue eyes returned to Delani they were twinkling with mirth. "The way he looks at you, some might think that the sun shines out your ass."

A surprised laugh sounded from Delani. She didn't want to believe it, of course, but Bella had no reason to lie. They got along together well enough, but it wasn't reason enough for her to lie in attempt to comfort her. If Hawke insisted that she saw something between Delani and Cullen it had to be because there was something truly there; which meant that maybe Delani's feelings weren't so unrequited.

Solas had said something similar before, but she'd refused to believe it. The safety of her clan had been too hefty a worry for her to consider something romantic with Cullen. Now her clan was safe, thanks to the man, and she no longer had the luxury of that excuse. Bella was now the second person who'd told her that her feelings were mirrored. Even so, Delani wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to do with that information.

"Though we weren't ever really friends, I've known Cullen for years," Bella continued speaking over Delani's thoughts. "That man is controlled and professional to a fault. Do you know what I didn't see much of during your little sparring match?" Hawke waited for Delani to answer and when all she did was look at the human expectantly, Bella sighed and supplied for her, "Professionalism or self-control."

Hawke's smile was warm, friendly, encouraging. Her eyes were bright with ideas and plots and the look she gave her made Delani only the slightest bit nervous. "You did that," she stated, the grin on her lips was loud in her voice. "You brought down his walls, if only a little. The attention that Cullen gives you is singular and undivided, and I sincerely doubt that there is anything that you can ever do that will 'ruin' the way he feels about you."

An unfamiliar warmth was spreading through Delani, hope and something else filling her to the brim. She wanted to believe everything that Bella was telling her, she wanted to think that she hadn't destroyed whatever chance she had with Cullen. The problem was that, even if she hadn't, Delani didn't know what to do next. She looked back at the others again, making sure that their false sense of privacy still stood strong.

Satisfied that their conversation would continue to go unheard —or at least ignored— Delani looked back at Hawke and asked, "Then what should I do? I'm the Inquisitor, he is my general. I can't possibly simply walk up to him and profess my feelings."

"And why not?" Bella demanded after making a semi-insulted _pfft_ noise. Eyebrow knitting with patronizing curiosity, she asked, "How else is he supposed to know how you feel?"

Delani didn't answer, instead she set her jaw and ground her teeth. Bella was right of course. Delani was usually better about being open and honest with her feelings, but thoughts of Cullen made her nervous. She had never been with a human before, romantically or otherwise. When they trudged around the bend of the mountain Skyhold came into view and Delani knew that she didn't have much time left to come up with a battle plan.

Sighing beside her, Bella pulled Delani's attention back onto her and offered the Inquisitor an encouraging smirk. "A word of advice, Inquisitor: don't pussyfoot this subject. Fenris and I wasted a lot of time before finally finding our way into each other's arms." Bella's gaze grew distant when she talked about Fenris. It was obvious by the set of her jaw that she missed her man, and Delani would never understand why she had left him behind in the first place.

A small morose smile curled the corner of Hawke's mouth. With her gaze on Skyhold, she stated, "All that time could have been spent with the man I love, but instead we both hid from our feelings instead of admitting to them." She shook her head and averted her gaze onto Delani, the twist of her lips was still a touch melancholy when she observed, "Life is short when you live the way we do. Tomorrow is always uncertain, our next battle could be our last. When you find someone that you care for you latch onto them for as long as you can."

"If you have feelings for Cullen you need to be honest with yourself and with him." Bella advised, her typical sarcasm was gone from her voice. This was not a topic that she took lightly, and it was one that she obviously wanted to help Delani with. Her advice was welcome, and her council was being taken to heart. "If you want to be with him you need to tell him as much, only then will you know if he wants the same thing. And the only way to do that is to talk to him."

Delani let out a heavy huff and directed her attention forward once more. She and Hawke both allowed silence to rejoin the group, and she continued to lead them back toward Skyhold. Bella was right. For all her deflection and sarcasm Bella was a very caring and insightful individual. She and Delani barely knew each other, and still she'd given her solid advice gained from experience and out of respectful empathy. Suddenly Varric's fondness for the human wasn't so strange. It was easy to see why Hawke had garnered such loyalty from her companions. She was a remarkable woman.

Her mind was made. When Delani returned to Skyhold she would get herself cleaned up and then she would speak to Cullen. The thought made her so nervous she felt like she could vomit. It had to be done and she knew it. Her feelings for Cullen weren't going to pass, and pining over him from a distance would get her nowhere. Delani was going to take the guesswork out of it. She was going to tell Cullen how she felt. He either felt the same way or he didn't, and she was going to find out one way or another.

His conversation with Dorian had made it a bit easier for him to focus on his work. Cullen was no longer concerned about when Delani would return to Skyhold because he knew that eventually she _would_ return. He rehearsed his lines as he thumbed through paperwork, reciting to himself what he would say upon her arrival. He had already made up for all the work he'd struggled with earlier, and was making good headway in finishing the rest.

Keeping his hands busy was also helping to calm the unsteadiness in his gut. He was nervous and antsy. Delani would be back soon, which meant that he would have to speak to her, he would have to confess his feelings for her and he hoped to the Maker that they were not one sided.

Cullen didn't hear the door to his office open until it was too late. Quickly glancing up from his paperwork, he did a double take when he saw that it was Delani who had entered his quarters. He hadn't even realized that she'd returned. Apparently his work had been a better distraction than he anticipated it would be.

"Inquisitor—" he stammered, surprised, all tact and confidence stolen from him by the suddenness of her appearance.

Awkwardly standing from his seat, Cullen took in her appearance. She'd taken the time to bathe before coming to see him, which meant that she'd been back for some time now. Her auburn hair was still damp, the strands drying in shiny waves. Her clothes were fresh and the smell of wildflowers reached him from his place behind his desk. Delani's expression was serious, a wall built of stone and steel put up against him. Her lips were a thin line, and her sea green eyes were absent their usual mirth. Her strange demeanor was disconcerting, and Cullen's nervousness redoubled.

"Cullen," she started, her tone serious, absent the private jesting he'd grown so accustomed to hearing. "I need to speak with you," Delani glanced to the soldier standing beside the door and set her jaw before moving her hard gaze back onto him, "alone."

"Alone?" He repeated, uncertain whether or not he wanted to really have the conversation that they were about to have. By the looks of Delani, he didn't think that it was going to be a good one. And still she was the Inquisitor and he was her general, he was her advisor, if she wanted to speak to him then it was his job to listen.

Cullen cleared his throat. "Right," he said, swallowing down the dread that threatened to rear its nasty head. Walking toward the door, he gestured for her to lead the way out onto the battlements. "After you, my lady."

They left his office behind and stepped out into another beautiful day at Skyhold. The air was crisp, and the unbroken sunlight made the temperature comfortable. Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, Cullen attempted to calm his nerves and failed.

Unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck, he observed, "It's a nice day."

Delani didn't respond, only continued to lead him further out onto the battlements. Her shoulders were stiff, her posture uncharacteristically closed off. When she finally stopped, she turned around to face him and Cullen could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Grinding her teeth, she started, "Cullen—" only to be cut off by him.

"What you said," he wanted to let her speak, he knew that the proper thing to do was to let her go first, but Cullen feared what she might say. He didn't want her to speak without her knowing how he felt, propriety be damned. "_Vhenan'ara_, it means my heart's desire, doesn't it?"

Delani blinked slowly and held her eyes shut. She took a deep breath, her nose flaring, and her features scrunched up slightly with what he assumed to be embarrassment. When she opened her eyes again, the confirmation was already in those sea green depths before she gave voice to the words. "It does."

His heart soared, and Cullen coaxed it back down. The confirmation didn't mean anything until she said it did. He needed to push the conversation along, he needed to know how she truly felt. "Is it—" he paused, considering his wording. "Am I truly…"

A small, self-conscious smile started to twist the corner of her mouth and Delani shrugged. She looked away from him, her eyes searching the horizon, the heavens, the battlements, and the courtyard, everywhere but him. When she finally met his gaze again he could clearly see her nervousness, recognizing it as the same kind he felt in himself.

"The heart wants what it wants," she started, her voice soft and hesitant, "whether or not it's an appropriate time to want it."

Cullen opened his mouth to reply, but she interrupted him before he could. "Look, Cullen," her voice was firm, clear, and full of a forced confidence that he found enviable. "I have developed feelings for you, and I think that it's only fair that I'm honest with you about them."

Mistaking the surprise in his features as something else, she quickly moved to salvage her statement. "I understand if you don't feel the same, I just wanted to…" she let the sentence hang there for a second and Cullen completely understood what it was she was trying to say.

His heart did a backflip in his chest, elation and excitement coursing like electricity through his bloodstream. She had feelings for him. Delani Lavellan, the Herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor had feelings for _him_. What in Andraste's blessed name had he ever done to be deserving of her affections?

The combination of nerves and excitement was heady and Cullen was having a difficult time articulating his feelings into words. Awkwardly, he tried anyway. "I can't say that I haven't wondered what I would say to you in this situation." Because it would be a boldfaced lie. It had been exactly what Cullen had spent the majority of the day doing, and every line rehearsed had fled from him the moment of Delani's arrival.

"You have?" she asked, surprised by the admission. Her eyes shined brighter with his words, the protective wall that she'd built against him was starting to chip and Cullen could already see her typical jovial demeanor shining through. Her voice rang with uncertainty when she attempted to clarify. "You mean that you also—"

"Have developed feelings for you as well?" He finished for her, a small laugh tumbling out of him. Nodding, Cullen assured her, "Yes, and they grow harder to ignore with each passing day."

Tilting her head curiously, Delani's smile started to surface, her expression turning hopeful. Quietly she wondered, "What's stopping you?"

"You're the Inquisitor," he supplied as though it were answer enough, when her brow rose he knew that it wasn't. Rubbing the back of his neck he continued, "We're at war… I didn't think it was possible."

Finally her smile unearthed. It was small, gentle, and heartwarming. Delani was regarding Cullen with a look that filled him with confidence. She wanted him as badly he wanted her, all that he needed to do was take the first step. "It's possible, Cullen." she stated with a laugh that sounded suspiciously self-conscious and uncertain. "Not only is it possible but I'm also standing right here."

He smiled at that and took a small step toward her. "So you are," replied Cullen, his voice low. He took another step, a longer one this time. "It seems too much to ask." Each step he took in her direction, Delani took one back, until he had her pressed against the sturdy battlement's ledge. He tilted his face down and his lips whispered over hers, "But I want to—"

"Commander," the sound of one of Cullen's soldiers interrupted them before his lips could make blessed contact with hers. Cullen felt his hackles rise, fury and annoyance burned through him as he turned to face the moron who thought that now was a good time to approach him.

Unaware of the ire he was arousing, the soldier continued along as though he weren't interrupting a very important moment. "You wanted a copy of sister Leliana's report—" He looked up from the report in his hand in time to catch the rage burning behind Cullen's eyes.

From behind him, Delani growled, "You can either leave that report on his desk, or you can be thrown off of the battlements. One way or the other, I want you out of my sight before I get to the count of three."

The soldier looked from Delani to Cullen and when he saw that the Commander wasn't going to disagree with her statement, his mouth fell open with surprise. Delani started to count, "One," and immediately he started to back away with a meek, "Or to your office. Right." and ran before he could find out if Delani would be true to her word.

Cullen turned around to face Delani again. Her eyes were bright with amusement and frustration, and he was so glad to see that what remained of the wall she'd put up earlier was gone for good. She was back to normal, snark and sass returned to their proper places. She gave him a sideways smile, a challenge in her voice when she next spoke.

"You were saying?"

Without further invitation necessary, Cullen closed the gap between them once again. He crushed his lips against hers, claiming her mouth with his own. Burying his fingers in her hair, he marveled at how soft she was, her lips, her skin, her hair, everything about her was soft while she herself was strong to her very core. Delani was consuming, just being in her presence always managed to leave him breathless, but now she was literally stealing the breath from his lungs.

Her tongue snaked out, cajoling his lips for entrance. Granting her access, Cullen's tongue eagerly greeted her, welcoming the taste of her in his mouth. She was sweet, and tasted of wild freedom. As their tongues danced, Cullen felt himself becoming thoroughly enthralled by her, he needed more, he would always need more. She tasted of sin and desire, and righteousness and victory. Delani was the kind of woman that inspired songs, and Cullen was overwhelmed by her.

When their lips finally parted he couldn't remember how to formulate language. He cleared his throat in attempt to gather his bearings. "I'm sorry…" he started, though he wasn't really. If he was sorry about anything it was that he needed to breathe; if the intake of oxygen wasn't necessary he wouldn't have ever pulled his lips from hers. Blinking his mind back into focus, he finished, "That was really nice."

"Really nice?" she said with a scoff. Giving him a playful glare, Delani grabbed him by the front of his cloak and pulled him back toward her. She stood on the tips of her toes and stated, "Come now, Cullen, we can do better than that."

He felt his ears burn with the challenge. A soft chuckle spilled out of him. Holding her by the nape of the neck, he lowered his mouth back to hers and whispered, "We certainly can, Delani," before kissing her again.


	10. Chapter 10

When Delani had decided to go visit Dorian in the library she hadn't anticipated being on the receiving end of a lecture. Her conversation with the Tevinter mage had been pleasant enough, but upon her descent into the atrium, Solas had intercepted her, wanting to discuss what they'd witnessed in the Western Approach.

They'd only just returned from their travels, and Delani was still attempting to decompress from the strenuous journey. A heated debate with Solas wasn't what she had in mind in terms of winding down, but the man wanted to know if she intended to help the Wardens. They agreed that the Grey Wardens had to be stopped, the disagreement arose when Delani revealed that she wanted to keep the order around.

"You care too much for tradition, _da'len_," he scolded her, disappointment shining in his blue eyes. The expression on Solas's face was ironed out and humorless, and it appeared as though his disappointment was greater with himself for thinking that she'd answer him differently.

Delani crossed her arms in front of her chest and sighed. She respected Solas a great deal, and his opinion meant a lot to her, but sometimes the man was more stubborn than a juvenile halla. "We mustn't forget tradition, _lethallin, _no matter how ugly." she stated, knowing that he would immediately disagree with her. "My mother was always very insistent that I remember that lesson."

His eyes narrowed a touch. "There is a difference between remembrance and negligence."

"And you think that wanting to help the Grey Wardens is the latter." she supplied for him, setting him up for his next argument.

Solas didn't waste anytime taking advantage of the opportunity she'd given him. "They are so mired down by tradition and duty they don't care what means it takes in order to accomplish either." He was getting heated now, working himself up into an argument that Delani had never wanted to be a part of, but was resigning herself to anyway.

"Just look at what they are doing, the blood sacrifices that they are making under the guise of duty." Giving her a bewildered look, Solas wondered, "Why preserve such a corruptible force?"

Setting her jaw, Delani answered simply, "Because, at their core, their purpose is pure."

His disappointment doubled. "Like the Templars?" he observed, reminding her of how she'd chosen them over the mages, a decision he had originally advised her against. "Like the Seekers?"

She released a deep breath through her nose and rubbed her eyes. Delani knew that Solas wasn't the only one of her companions that thought she should just let the Wardens fall. They had no one but themselves to blame for the position that they now found themselves in, after all. She didn't owe them anything, the importance of their continuance was a subject up to debate.

Delani slowly dragged her hand down her face, trying to find the words that Solas would listen to. When she peered up at him past her brow, she started, "The world needs to change Solas and these factions along with it." He made an agreeing noise, and she used it to spur herself forward. "I didn't become the Inquisitor to destroy and dismantle. I became Inquisitor to reform and rebuild."

"I want to give people the chance to change for the better." Delani said in reply to the serious look that had befallen Solas's features. He was hearing her, but he wasn't quite listening to her just yet. "Templars, Seekers, Grey Wardens, they have all fallen; but who hasn't? I believe that they can do better, that they can _be_ better, and I believe that it's my obligation to provide them with the chance"

Shaking his head, Solas grumbled, "Your youth blinds you."

"And your age jades you," she countered. He quirked an eyebrow and she pushed herself onward. "You need to open yourself up to hope, just as I need to prepare myself for disappointment."

She gave him a pleading look, beseeching him to listen, to _actually_ listen. When he noticed immediately what she was asking of him, and after a deep sigh, Solas's expression opened up. He would try to listen.

"The world is changing, Solas, and I get to help decide how. I don't know about you, but I want to live in a world where we take the time to fix the things that are broken instead of losing hope and abandoning them altogether."

"The world _is_ changing, _lethallan,_" he conceded with a curt nod, giving her a measured look. "I just hope that it's changing into the one you envision."

That was the most that she was going to get from him, and Delani counted it as a victory. Offering the other elf a small smile, she agreed, "As do I." before allowing him to return to the research he'd been pursuing before cornering her into a political debate.

Delani left the atrium and stepped into the main hall. She smiled politely to all of those who greeted her and tried to ignore ongoing conversations as she passed. As she approached the main doors she noticed that Varric wasn't standing by his writing desk. He was likely with Hawke, who was likely at the tavern. It was endearing to see the dwarf with Bella, the two were inseparable, and a small part of Delani hoped that someday Varric would hold her in such high regard.

Stepping out onto the stairway, Delani paused and basked in the daylight. Streaks of white were painted across the heavens like strokes of a paintbrush. The temperature was cooler than usual, hinting that winter was on the approach. There was a constant din coming from all directions; chattering from the main hall behind her, cawing from the rookery, the sound of workers reconstructing Skyhold, and the clashing of dull weapons as the soldiers trained.

Skyhold was a living thing. The souls who lived behind its tall, strong walls gave it breath, gave it emotion, and today Skyhold was content. Delani smiled to herself and descended the stairs. It was good to have a place of their own. Haven had been sufficient for the force they'd had while occupying it, but the Inquisition would have quickly outgrown it. This ancient fortress was different. Skyhold would nurture the forces that called it home, it would always be the heart of the Inquisition.

She casually followed the sound of practice swords crashing. Delani liked to watch the soldiers train. She always found it so surprising that Cassandra and Cullen could take dozens of local farm boys, people who had never even held a sword before, and make them into soldiers. Not everyone who came to the Inquisition had a talent for swordplay, but those who did were trained by the best.

A smile inched across Delani's lips when she spotted Cullen supervising the training exercises. Most of the time he left the task to his captain, having the responsibilities that he did gave him little time to spend training his men. But Cullen was the type of man who needed to participate in all aspects of his job, and Delani respected him for it.

Leaning on the railing, Delani perched her chin in her palm and just stared down at Cullen, admiring his back. He was taller than most humans she'd encountered and stood more than a head taller than her. His skin was pale, but had a curious golden undertone that seemed to radiate from him. Everything about Cullen was golden, his eyes, his hair, his character. He was this noble giant that made her heart flutter in her chest with a look alone.

They hadn't really gotten a chance to speak since she'd returned from the Western Approach. Cullen had been eyeballs deep in paperwork upon her arrival and, as much as she avoided her own paperwork, it had eventually caught up to her as well. The moment that she'd finished, and found some free time, she spent it making rounds speaking to her companions.

Already she'd spoken to her friends in the tavern, and she'd managed to avoid stirring up an argument with Sera. She shot the breeze with Dorian, talked influence and power with Vivienne, and had an intellectual debate with Solas. All that was left was BlackWall, and in order to get to him, she needed to get past Cullen.

Her stomach did a pleasant flip. Their relationship was still so new, and sometimes —most of the time— Delani had to remind herself that it was real. Cullen was real, his attraction to her was real, they had really kissed on the battlements, and he really wanted to pursue a relationship with her. It had always seemed so far fetched to her, so impossible. What should a man like Cullen ever want to do with a woman like her, an elf? There were people who fetishized elves, but he wasn't one of them. His attraction to her seemed genuine, and the thought left her grinning like a fool.

Delani bit into her lip and continued to stare at the Commander. Her father would have liked him, she decided. If the two had been given the opportunity to meet, her father would have been glad that she'd found someone like Cullen.

Cullen was kind, compassionate, patient, and understanding. He listened and he thought, and he was just as strong mentally as he was physically. It didn't matter that he was human. All that mattered to her parents was that Delani was happy; which she was. The novelty of their romance was still strange, but Delani was the happiest she'd been in a very long while.

Smiling to herself, she pushed off of the railing and decided to go speak with Cullen. If he didn't need a distraction himself, she was sure that his men would appreciate not having the weight of the Commander's all seeing eyes on them for a moment. Nerves began to flutter in her belly like a flock of hummingbirds. Delani had never felt this way before in her life; smitten like a young girl with a crush. She'd been with men before, and even some women. Delani had had more than her fair share of infatuations, but none of them had left her feeling like this; like she could barely look Cullen in the eyes without blushing.

It was different than it had been before. Before she had been the one to effortlessly make blood rush into Cullen's cheeks. Now all Delani had to do was imagine him turning his amber gaze on her and she was rendered a giggling fool. She didn't like the role reversal, but when that smile of his twisted the corner of his mouth, she couldn't remember why it bothered her.

She stepped up behind him, trying to suppress the involuntary giggle that threatened to spill past her smiling lips. Only partly aware that Cassandra and a few soldiers that were curiously watching, Delani tapped Cullen's left shoulder before hurrying to stand on his right side.

The handsome male threw a quick glance over his shoulder and, when he found the space empty, he turned to search to his right. A surprised smile lifted his lips at the sight of Delani standing casually beside him as though she'd been occupying the previously empty space the whole time.

Before he could speak, Delani said, "Hello Commander," by way of greeting. "Did you miss me?"

"Lady Lavellan," he returned her greeting with a chuckle. The sound of it was enough to stave off her irritation of him not using her first name. "I am overjoyed that you've returned unharmed from your travels."

Her eyes narrowed a touch. His tone was professional, formal, the smile on his lips was kind and honest. Cullen's golden eyes were regarding her warmly. He was being friendly and polite, and Delani was confused. They _had_ started something, hadn't they? She remembered the kiss on the battlements, it wasn't a trick of an overactive imagination. Even if she'd had to leave with Hawke and Stroud for the Western Approach shortly after, it wasn't as though their interaction had never happened.

Yet Cullen was acting as though it hadn't, as though their relationship hadn't changed from professional into something romantic. Delani stared up at him, her brows furrowed, her lips slightly twisted into a small frown. What was he up to?

Without breaking his gaze, she cautiously stated, "I'm sure you've found ways to keep yourself occupied in my absence."

His smile grew a bit and Cullen nodded. "There is always work to be done, Inquisitor." Resting his hands on the pommel of his sword, he inserted, "Of that there will never be a shortage."

Delani's confusion grew. Had she imagined the kiss after all? Had her mind supplied the memory of Cullen confessing to having feelings for her? Her heart assured her that no, it had all actually happened; her gut agreed with her heart but was wary of the Commander's behavior.

Taking a step toward the _shemlan,_ Delani observed, "Then I'm sure that you wouldn't mind a distraction." and watched as Cullen's golden eyes dilated a bit at her tone.

She acted without thought, nervous dread stealing all reason from her. Without warning Delani grabbed Cullen by his breastplate and tugged him downward while simultaneously standing on the tips of her toes. He made a surprised sound that was quickly muffled against her lips. The kiss was more possessive than she'd intended it to be, needy and telling of how nervous his professional behavior was making her.

She didn't know what she'd been expecting. Delani had hoped that Cullen would return her kiss in kind, that he would envelop her in his arms and show with his mouth just how much he'd missed her. What she got instead was the opposite. Cullen grabbed Delani by the shoulders and gently —yet forcefully— pushed her from his lips.

When she looked up at him Delani found that his face was beet red with embarrassment. Cullen took a retreating leap backwards until he was a safe distance away, and rubbed the back of his neck. Chuckling in a poor attempt to hide his humiliation, Cullen looked around at the gawking soldiers before mumbling a chagrined, "Inquisitor."

Delani also looked around at their audience. Their mouths were slackened with shock, their eyes wide with disbelief. The whole courtyard had come to a standstill at the sight of her pulling their Commander into a kiss. Her eyes then landed on Cassandra who, while also looking surprised, had an eyebrow arched in disapproval. They were all staring, and Delani realized why Cullen had maintained a professional mien, and why he'd shoved her away at the first sign of affection. He was ashamed of her.

Swallowing hard, Delani looked back at Cullen and searched his mortified features. Her heart fell into her stomach and dread flooded through her bloodstream like ice water. He fidgeted awkwardly, unable to hold her gaze for longer than a second. Looking away from her he cleared his throat again and combed his fingers through his hair.

He was surprised, he was embarrassed, he was ashamed of her and Delani had never felt more foolish in her entire life. Her mouth fell open and snapped shut again, she wanted to say something but she couldn't remember how to speak. She could feel a heat start to spread under the surface of her skin, an embarrassment that burned hotter than the sun. Looking around at the people who were still staring at the two of them, she returned her attention to Cullen and forced herself to speak.

"I—" she choked on her words, her throat tight with horror that she had placed them both in this situation. Delani had gotten too far ahead of herself. She'd convinced herself that Cullen was different, that he would be able to see beyond her pointed ears and lean body structure. She'd assumed that he cared enough for her character to not care at all that she wasn't human. How could she have been so wrong? How could she have misjudged him so completely? And why did it hurt so damn much?

Her hands were shaking when she tucked her hair behind her ears. Clearing her throat, she forced her shoulders back, straightening out her spine. She cleared her throat, loosening the tight muscles, and fought back the nauseating humiliation that was rumbling in her gut. "I'm sorry, I thought—"

She shook her head, not wanting to get into it in front of their enraptured audience. "I'm sorry," Delani said again before running past Cullen. She bolted through Skyhold, racing down the stairs to the lower courtyard and sprinting toward the stables. Delani was fleeing. She was fleeing from the horror in Cullen's eyes, she was fleeing from the pain that horror had stirred inside of her.

She felt a sting of tears behind her eyes but she fought them back. There was no reason for her to cry. Yes that had been embarrassing, so completely and totally embarrassing, but it wasn't the end of the world. This wasn't the first time that she'd been deemed unworthy because she was an elf. This wasn't even the first time that she'd been rejected by a man. It was, however, the first time that she'd been rejected by a man that she genuinely cared for.

When the tears no longer threatened to spill past her lashes, Delani felt her embarrassment evolve into anger. She was angry at Cullen for rejecting her like that. She was angry at him for leading her on and telling her that he had feelings for her when he actually didn't. She was angry at him for allowing her to think that she had a chance with him when, in truth, he was too ashamed of being with an elf to even look her in the eyes while people were watching. Delani was plenty angry at Cullen, but she was mostly angry with herself.

How could she have been such an idiot? Why would she allow herself to be such a fool? Of course Cullen wanted nothing to do with her, at least not publicly. She was an elf! He was a human, respected, admired, highly praised and too important to the Inquisition to be seen fraternizing with the Inquisitor; an _elf_. She should have guessed that he wanted their romance to remain a secret. She should have known that he would never see her as anything other than a knife ear, a savage.

Delani wished that the earth would yawn open and swallow her whole. Her embarrassment was too great, how was she even still alive, how had her flesh not already melted right off of her bones. It wasn't Cullen's fault that he could never see her as anything more than an elf, that he would never see her as a woman. It was society's fault, the world around them was to blame. Delani was angry at him for fooling her into believing that he was different, but she was angrier with herself for allowing herself to believe that she would ever be sufficient for a man such as him.

Skidding to a stop, Delani interrupted Blackwall and Dennett's conversation. The two men turned to look at her, surprise and curiosity in their gazes as they regarded the strange "halla rider". Delani grit her teeth. Marching past them, toward Cornelius's stall, she opened the gate and glared at the two men. Her tone was hard, pointed, an underlying threat in the undertones of her voice.

"Neither of you have seen me," she stated before closing the gate behind her.

She patted Cornelius on the nose when he stepped up to greet her. The hart searched her for treats and huffed in dissatisfaction upon discovering that she hadn't smuggled him any. Stomping his foot down, he spent the next few minutes ignoring her as punishment, which Delani took advantage of to clean out his stall. Delani needed to keep her hands busy. She didn't intend to show her face around Skyhold for some time. When the sun finally fell behind the horizon she'd find her way back to her chambers.

Tomorrow they would all pretend like none of this had ever happened; even if she would never be able to look Cullen in the eyes ever again.

* * *

He could still feel the fire burning under his cheeks as he watched Delani run from him. All it took was remembering the look on her face when he had pushed her away for Cullen to know that he had done something terribly wrong. His reaction to her kiss had been involuntary. She'd surprised him, pulling him into a kiss that he hadn't anticipated. His shock had quickly taken over him and he'd pushed her away like a Maker forsaken moron.

Cullen should have embraced her, should have welcomed the softness of her lips against his, and he had wanted to, but people were watching. Soldiers were training, Cassandra was observing, there were lines of onlookers just dawdling about curiously gazing in his direction. When Delani had approached him, full of her typical mirth, he had been so excited to see her.

He had wanted to take her in his arms and hold her tightly. He'd wanted to breathe her in and taste her. Professionalism demanded that he maintain a polite air about him, no matter what his heart desired. Then Delani had thrown that professionalism to the wind and Cullen had reacted so poorly to it. He had pushed her away, the fool!

It took a special brand of idiot to push away a woman like Delani, and Cullen knew that he had just won himself the crown of idiocy. Rubbing his temple, Cullen couldn't pull his gaze from the stairwell that she had sprinted down. How fast she'd run from him, Cullen had never seen her move so swiftly.

His stomach fell to his toes at the memory of the expression she had worn on her face. It had taken her a moment to recognize that he had shoved her away from him and kept her at arms length. It had taken a second for Delani to register that he had rejected her affection as though hers was the kiss of death. But then her green eyes met his and he witnessed her realization for himself. That was the worst part, Cullen concluded, seeing her beautiful features widen first with shock, shift to embarrassment, then tighten with horror.

He had done that, he had stolen the smile from her lips and the laugh from her eyes, and for what? Propriety? Decorum? What did any of that matter when he had hurt Delani the way that he had? She'd more than just run from the confrontation, Delani had fled; Delani who had challenged him to a sparring match, Delani who fought wild beasts, red templars, darkspawn, monsters, and demons of all shapes and sizes. She was a woman who looked danger in the eyes and grinned, and she had fled from _him_.

Stomach turning with disgust in himself, Cullen grit his teeth as he decided what he should do. He obviously needed to speak with Delani, to apologize for the intensity of his reaction and explain to her its origins, but he couldn't leave his men in the middle of training. His responsibilities didn't disappear just because he had made himself into a dunce and insulted the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

Glancing back to where Cassandra was standing, Cullen was unsurprised by the disapproval in her eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed and there was a frown tugging at her lips. Gesturing toward the stairwell with her chin, she wordlessly instructed Cullen to go after her. When her narrowed eyes met his gaze again he could easily tell that Cassandra was feeling oddly protective of the Inquisitor. They had become fast friends, and the human woman did not approve of Cullen's reaction to Delani's affection. She wanted him to set things right, almost as badly as he did.

Not needing to be told twice, Cullen left his soldiers, trusting that Cassandra would manage until he returned. He descended the staircase with a pretty good idea as to where Delani had run off to. She'd been upset, distressed, and panicked; there was only one place that she would run to: the stables.

He tried to keep his pace inconspicuous, but the fact of the matter was that Cullen needed to rectify the mess that he had made of things. An apology and an explanation were in order, and they needed to be delivered as swiftly as possible. His feet carried him toward the stables, but he didn't immediately find any sign of Delani anywhere.

Blackwall and Dennett were speaking in the barn, keeping up casual conversation until Cullen interrupted them. Blackwall was the first to acknowledge him, his expression curious but otherwise unreadable. The man standing at his side was just as hard to read, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his features flat and expressionless.

Looking around the barn, Cullen wondered, "Have either of you seen the Inquisitor?"

Both Blackwall and Dennett shared a look, a silent communication passing between them. After a second Dennett shrugged indifferently and Blackwall returned his attention to Cullen. Shaking his head, the Grey Warden informed him, "I haven't seen her," while simultaneously gesturing toward the stables.

Cullen rose an eyebrow and Blackwall nodded that he had it right. He _had_ seen Delani and she was within earshot. She had probably told both men to keep her whereabouts a secret, but the two of them could probably tell by the desperation on Cullen's face that he needed to speak with her urgently.

Nodding in gratitude, Cullen loudly replied, "I'll just have a look around then," before moving back toward the stables in search of the Inquisitor. Cullen stopped in front of the first stall, seeing a beautiful Fereldan mare but no Delani. But then he heard a distasted huff and his attention was pulled to the hart at the far end of the stables.

Cornelius, of course, he should have known to check in with the hart first. Delani and the disagreeable beast had a special friendship. She spent a great deal of time with him, brushing him down or just simply keeping him company. The hart would have been the first place that she would run to. Cullen just hoped that she would still be there.

The closer Cullen came to Cornelius's stable the more irritated the hart became. He bumped his chest against the gate and huffed heavily in warning. Cullen mostly ignored the stag, trusting that the gate would hold against the enormous creature. When he was standing in front of the stable, he spotted Delani's auburn hair and felt his heart twinge at the sight of her duck into hiding a moment too late.

"Delani," Cullen sighed, feeling like a fumbling idiot. He knew that he needed to apologize for his behavior, he just didn't know how to go about giving voice to the words. If he opened his mouth it would be only to reinsert his foot into the cavern. Even so, the words needed to be said, she needed to know how sorry he was for reacting the way he had.

"May I speak with you?"

She didn't emerge from the stall, but she did reply from her hiding space. "Now is not really a good time, Cullen. I'm—" she paused, searching for a viable excuse before continuing with a lame, "in the middle of something."

Taking a step toward the stall, Cullen stopped short when Cornelius took a threatening step forward. Releasing a defeated breath, Cullen strode back to the wall facing the hart's stable and leaned his back against it. Folding his arms over his bust, he admitted, "I wanted to apologize to you. The way I reacted—"

"There's no need," she cut him off, finally standing from behind the gate. Delani busied her hands and started to clean out Cornelius's stall, a task that would have been better done without the stag occupying the space. But he was the only thing dividing Cullen and Delani and Cullen knew that Delani wasn't going to part with the beast easily.

Without turning to look at him, Delani kept her attention on her task as she spoke. "I get it."

Surprised, Cullen's brows shot toward his hairline. A sense of relief washed over him and he let out a long, grateful breath. Just to be sure, he asked, "You do?"

"Yes," she answered with a shrug. Delani did glance at him then, her green eyes narrow with pain and outrage, and Cullen knew that she didn't really understand at all. Her voice was a low and dangerous growl when she supplied, "You're embarrassed of me."

It took several hard blinks for Cullen to fully process what she'd just said. She thought that he was embarrassed of her? How was that even possible? Delani was the most beautiful, most caring, most compassionate, and wonderful person he knew. She was strong, stubborn, determined, kindhearted, and gentle when she wanted to be. Her smile was heartbreaking, her laugh was melodic, her amusement was always infectious, and the vivacious shine in her eyes was the kind of enchanting beauty that inspired songs.

There wasn't a single thing about her that would be the cause of embarrassment. Yes, that kiss had been unexpected, and he had reacted poorly to it, but not out of embarrassment. And especially not out of embarrassment of her. Delani was the kind of woman that a man waited his whole life to meet, and sometimes never did. He was enchanted, enamored, infatuated; Cullen was a great many things in regards to Delani, but he was never embarrassed. She had to know that, and the fact that she didn't was completely flabbergasting to him.

"W-what?" Cullen stammered, caught utterly by surprise by her casual observation. It was more than the fact that she could say those words in the first place, but also that she could say them with such conviction. "You think that I'm embarrassed of you?"

She looked at him then, piercing him with her narrowed eyes. Lips sneering with distaste, she insisted, "Please, Cullen, don't. I understand, truly, I do." Returning her focus to cleaning Cornelius's stall, she finished, "I was just expecting you to be different. It was foolish, and I'm sorry."

She was sorry? What in the world did she have to be sorry for? And what did she mean by she thought that he was different? Different from whom? Cullen was so terribly confused. They were having two different conversations at once and neither knew what the other was talking about. It was disorienting, and Cullen didn't like the guess work. He wanted clarification, and the only way to get it was to investigate her meaning.

"I'm not embarrassed of you, Delani," he insisted, pushing himself off of the wall and approaching the stall again. This time he completely ignored Cornelius when the stag huffed at him. Cullen got as close as he could while still being out of the mount's reach, and tried to read Delani's body language as he spoke. "I could never be embarrassed of you. Maker's breath, what is there to even be embarrassed about?"

She stopped whatever she was doing to face him head on. Her hands were on her hips, her eyes sharpened to knives. "Oh, I don't know," she stated, her tone venomous, biting. "Perhaps the fact that I am an elf?"

Cullen's jaw fell with surprise. Was that was she thought this was about? She thought that he had pushed her away because he didn't want it to be known that he was in a relationship with an elf? That was ludicrous. What did Cullen care for the shape of her ears?

"So what?" he returned, honestly confused as to why this was even an issue between them.

Cullen tried to think back to all of their interactions. Had there ever been a time that he had treated her differently because she was an elf? He couldn't remember such an interaction. Yes, her elven features made her different, but those differences were beautiful and not the slightest bit embarrassing. If anything Cullen was proud to be with her; he was the proudest he had ever been about anything he had ever done.

"So," she said, irritated that he would dare to challenge her. "You are embarrassed to be seen with a knife ear, with a _savage_."

He took another step closer to the stable's door and stood just short of Cornelius's snapping teeth. Cullen held Delani's angry gaze, hoping to the Maker that she would be able to see the sincerity in his eyes and hear the honesty of his words. "Delani," he started, feeling his desperation start to leak into his tone. "You are the most wonderful woman I know."

Her eyes narrowed and he continued, hoping that he would be able to convince her of the truth. "You are beautiful beyond description, you are courageous, relentless, thoughtful, considerate, intelligent, and resourceful. You do not hesitate to act when action is necessary. You adapt to every obstacle that life throws at you, and you stare unflinchingly into the darkness that threatens to consume our world whole."

Cullen hoped that she would listen to him, that she could hear that his words were true and spoken from his heart. "You are not a savage, you are our salvation, and my only embarrassment is that it has taken this terrible misunderstanding for me to confess all of this to you."

"I—" she stammered, her eyes had softened with his admission, her posture was less defensive. Delani fumbled with the hilt of the carving knife on her belt as she thought. Shaking her head, she tried again, "Then why did you react the way you did when I kissed you?"

"Because I am an idiot," Cullen answered with a self-deprecating chuckle. Rubbing the back of his neck, he admitted, "You surprised me and I reacted without thought or consideration. And for that I am incredibly sorry."

When it was apparent that Delani still didn't fully understand the origins of his behavior, Cullen sighed. He would have to give voice to his stupidity. Truthfully he didn't care, all that mattered was clearing the air between them. "Andraste preserve me, I have made a mess of this, haven't I?"

Dragging a hand down his face, Cullen explained, "You wouldn't believe how quickly gossip spreads through the barracks. While I'm not embarrassed about being with you, I would prefer that our private affairs remain just that."

"I made you uncomfortable," Delani said, the realization slipping past her lips with an exhale. She stepped up to the stable's door and gave Cullen an apologetic look. "Creators, Cullen, I'm sorry. If I had known I would have never—"

He offered her a reassuring smile, "I like to keep my private and professional lives separate from one another, but that is no excuse for pushing you away the way that I did."

Delani patted Cornelius on the side, coaxing the beast to back down, before exiting from the stable. She closed the gate behind her and gave Cullen a shy look. Tucking her lovely auburn hair behind an ear, she met and held his gaze. There was a rosiness to her cheeks and it took a moment for Cullen to realize that Delani was blushing. His initial shock was eclipsed by the timidness of her voice when she next spoke.

"I have never been with a human before," she admitted, appearing as though the admission was an embarrassing one. "I don't know how to act around you. There is no 'separation' between professional and private in the clan."

Nervously wringing her hands, Delani chewed on her lip and struggled to hold his gaze. Carefully, she wondered, "Do you wish for me not to touch you?"

Shaking his head, Cullen couldn't help the chuckle that rumbled out of him. She looked so unbearably cute when she bit her lip like that. Who was this timorous woman that struggled to hold his gaze, and why did he find her sheepishness so damn endearing? He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his arms. There was always a different side of Delani that he was learning, and this new timid side was just so adorable he couldn't wipe the smile from his lips even if he tried.

He brushed her bangs from her face and stared down at her gorgeous features, "Nothing would wound me more than that." Tilting her chin up, Cullen leaned his face down a bit and whispered, "All I ask for is a little more discretion next time."

A warm smile unearthed on her plush lips, and Delani quirked a teasing eyebrow. His smile grew at the sight of the laughter returning to her eyes. There she was, the sassy creature that had initially grabbed his attention. "What," she prompted, "You mean no more kissing you in the courtyard?"

Cullen hummed, remembering how she'd pulled his lips down to hers and claimed his mouth as her own. Truly being kissed by her was so intoxicating that the locale hardly mattered. "What's so wrong with the stables?"

"Nothing at all," Delani purred before pulling him the rest of the way down to her lips.

There was a smile on Cullen's lips when they met hers. Warmth bloomed in his chest, fanning out like petals reaching out for the light that burned inside of Delani. He buried his fingers in her hair and couldn't help the contented groan that rumbled deep in his chest. Inhaling her scent, he admired the mind numbing smell of wildflowers. She always smelled so damn good, be it freshly after a bath or the moment she returned from her journeys, and now he would get to smell her whenever he wished. He was a lucky bastard.

Cullen pulled her tighter against his chest. At the feeling of her tongue snaking across his lips, he welcomed her into his mouth. A surprised moan resounded from her and Cullen smiled at the sound of it. He had never tasted anything as sweet as Delani. His fingers pressed into the small of her back, pulling her more tightly against him.

For a moment Cullen forgot where he was. He didn't care that Blackwall and Dennett were in the barn, that they could walk in on them at any given moment. All Cullen cared about was the feeling of Delani against him, her body molded to his chest, her warmth seeping through his cloak and waking something that had been dormant inside of him for so long.

Moving his lips from hers, to the line of her jaw, Cullen left a trail of kisses all the way to her neck. The moment he felt her pulse against his mouth, he felt an untamable urge to taste the beat of her heart. His lips parted and his tongue lapped at the warm skin of her neck. He felt Delani shudder against him, a moan escaping her, and it only served to spur him further.

"_Fenedhis, ar nuvenin'ma_," Delani groaned in a breathy exhale. Her fingers were fisted around the hair at the nape of his neck, desperately tugging at him, undecided if she wanted to pull him away or pin him to her more tightly. The beautiful and foreign words were like fire in a field of dry grass, and suddenly Cullen was on fire all over.

A low rumble vibrated from him. Cullen didn't know what had possessed him. Their relationship was too new for this kind of behavior. He needed to regain control of his body, but the sound of Delani's panting a mewing made self-control impossible. He could think of nothing else. Her heat, her taste, the sounds she made, they abducted his sense of propriety from him and left him feeling like a mindless thrall whose sole purpose was to explore this gorgeous creature completely.

A surprised squeak sounded from Delani when Cullen crowded her over to the wall and pinned her against it, though the laugh that followed soon after was approving. Cullen's hands were on her waist, her back, slowly traveling toward her rear when the sound of someone clearing their throat returned him to the present.

Cullen pulled his face from the curve of her neck and looked up to find Dennett standing at the stable's entrance with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Cullen immediately felt his face flush, but was surprised with himself when he didn't jump away from Delani as though she were made of acid. Taking a respectful step back, Cullen's hand immediately began to rub the back of his neck and embarrassment made it impossible to speak without stammering.

"D-Dennett," Cullen cleared his throat, throwing a sideways glance to Delani who was staring up at him with a dreamy look in her eyes and a playful smile on her lips. "I did not hear you approach."

The horse master was unamused. Sternly, the man observed, "Clearly." Before Cullen could mumble some half thought explanation, Dennett shooed them both with a wave of his hands. "Off with the both of you, before you traumatize the mounts."

Giggling, Delani grabbed Cullen by the hand and pulled him from the stables. As they walked past the stone faced human, she stated, "My apologize, Dennett," and led Cullen out onto the lower courtyard.

As soon as they were out of the stables Delani tried to release her hold on Cullen's hand, but he held on tighter. She was trying to respect his wishes, he knew. He had asked for discretion and she was attempting to submit to his desires, but Cullen couldn't allow it. She'd thought that he was embarrassed of being with her. Delani had thought that he was ashamed to be discovered having a romantic relationship with an elf. She couldn't be more wrong.

They were standing in the middle of the courtyard, hand in hand, dozens of eyes upon them, and Cullen tugged Delani back into his arms. She bumped into his chest with a surprised sound, and Cullen smiled down at her. She was beautiful, Maker, she was _so_ beautiful.

Craning his face down toward hers, Cullen whispered, "I am _not_ embarrassed of you," before softly claiming her mouth with his own. Delani grabbed him by the front of his cloak and pressed her lips more fiercely against his. The kiss was a short one, but it left him breathless all the same.

He brushed her silky hair away from her face and stared down at her for a moment. Delani's eyes were still shut from the kiss, and they fluttered open, sea green eyes staring at him with longing. There was a content smile on her lips as she tightened her fists on the collar of his cloak.

A delighted laugh rang from her, and Delani bit into her lip as she stared up at him. Releasing her plush bottom lip from between her teeth, she stated, "As much as I've enjoyed the result of our little misunderstanding, I think that we need to work on our communication skills."

He returned her smile with a lopsided one of his own. Nodding, he agreed, "You may have a point, my lady." She narrowed her eyes and Cullen couldn't help the laugh that escaped him before he corrected himself, "Delani."

At the sound of her name on his lips, her smile grew. She released her hold on his cloak and took a half step backwards, giving him some space, while still keeping herself close to him. Her big green eyes stared up at him and Cullen felt as though he could conquer the world. Did she even know what she did to him when she looked at him like that?

"I want to know you, _vhenan'ara_," she admitted with a tender smile.

The sound of his pet name made his heart soar. Cullen tried to dial down the smile on his lips but found the mere attempt impossible. Tracing the arch of her cheekbone, and admiring the branch-like _vassilian_ that moved along the curve of the bone, he confessed, "I want to know you too."

"Then let us not make it any more difficult than it has to be," she said, her eyes alight with life and the laughter within them infectious. "Be open and honest with me, and I will do the same for you."

Nodding, Cullen agreed to her terms and whispered, "You are incredible, do you know that?"

"I could stand to be reminded more often," Delani replied with a laugh.

Cullen grinned. He would gladly remind her every day for as long as she would have him. What had he ever done to be deserving of a woman like her? Cullen would never know if he lived for a thousand years.

* * *

**Fenedhis, a****r nuvenin'ma**

**(Fuck, I want you)**


	11. Chapter 11

The familiar sounds of war roared throughout the night. Firing trebuchets hurled balls of fire into the heavens until they came crashing down on Adamant's walls. Cries arose from the soldiers' throats, screams of death and bellows of determination filling the air with the songs of combat. Cullen had known battle before, had trained for it, had prepared for it. First in the Tower, then at the Gallows, and now here; with the Inquisition, and this time he was commanding its course.

How many men had he lost already? The Grey Wardens were desperate, if that hadn't been obvious from the beginning, and they were making the mistakes because of that desperation. Cullen was losing soldiers, but not as many as he had anticipated. It appeared that at least some of the rigorous training had stuck with his men, and lives were being spared because of it.

Cullen gazed over the battlefield. He called for his men to fix their formation before they lost any more soldiers to stray arrows or thrown stones. Glancing up at Adamant's walls, he allowed a breath to flow through him. Delani and her team were weaving through Grey Wardens and demons, clearing the walls so that Cullen's men could get a foothold. As soon as those walls were clear the fortress was as good as theirs. All that there would be left to contend with was Warden-Commander Clarel and, if he knew Delani half as well as he thought he did, by the time the rest of the Inquisition's forces joined her the battle would be all but won.

Refocusing on the battle, Cullen forced back the wariness and the dread that were budding inside of him. They were in a middle of a battle and Delani was at its point. She was running face first into danger, again, and he couldn't be there to protect her. He supposed that he should be accustomed to this feeling by now, but the fact of the matter was that Cullen doubted that he would ever get used to sending her off into danger.

He shoved all other thoughts to the back of his mind. He had to remain focused on the fight. His men were looking to him for direction. Their lives depended on him keeping his mind in the here and now, and here and now was a fight for their lives against Grey Wardens.

Cullen remembered the first time he ever met a Grey Warden. It had been after the Circle had fallen to demons and blood mages. He had already endured days, weeks, of… so much. Andraste had preserved him, kept him, protected him from succumbing to the same fate his brothers had fallen prey to. And then one day a woman had appeared and he'd thought it to be another vision.

His first Grey Warden had also happened to be his first encounter with a Dalish elf. Cullen had not been in his right mind during the meeting. Pain, desperation, and all consuming terror had abducted all reason from him. Already so much death had occurred, and he had demanded more. She had come to save the Circle and he'd pleaded with her to destroy it. That was the first time that Cullen had encountered Dalish determination, and stubbornness, and after meeting Delani he knew for certain that they were traits easily found in the Dalish people.

The Hero of Ferelden had done what she did best and saved the Circle, himself included. She'd come to him after the fighting had finally met its end, when Uldred had been put down like the dog he was, and she'd tried to make sure that Cullen was alright. Unfortunately the trauma that Cullen had suffered had to run its course before he could begin to even feign normalcy. She had been careful not to touch him, but she had held his gaze and assured him that he was going to be alright. She had shown him kindness, and it was yet another attribute that Cullen was now associating with the Dalish people.

"Commander," one of his lieutenants called for his attention. Staring up at where Cullen was surveying the battlefield, the man shouted, "The Wardens are regrouping at the north gate!"

It was just as planned. The Wardens' desperation was costing them dearly. At this rate it wouldn't be much longer now. Nodding his satisfaction with the report, Cullen shouted back, "Good. Get our archers on those walls. I want the Wardens surrounded, give them no quarter."

The lieutenant saluted in understanding before doing what he had been told. Cullen sucked in a deep and calming breath. The tides of war were turning in their favor, but they hadn't won yet. One wrong move now could be costly.

The fight continued at a steady pace. The Inquisition pushed forward until most of their forces were inside of the fortress. Just when it appeared as though the battle was nearing its end, a deafening roar shook through the heavens like rolling thunder. Cullen's stomach fell with the sound, his heart lurching into his throat. Swallowing hard, he turned his head in the direction of flapping wings and cursed at the sight of Corypheus's arch demon flying toward Adamant.

_Maker turn his gaze on us all_. Cullen stared in wide eyed horror as the dragon swooped down on the fortress. A red energy poured from between its maw, not fire but something a thousand times worse. The electrical red fluid fell over the heads of soldiers, their cries echoing out through the night, louder than ever.

Swallowing hard, Cullen watched helplessly as he saw figures that looked like Delani and her team rushing over the ramparts after Warden-Commander Clarel. There was a slight commotion at the edge of the dead-drop, before Clarel was taken into the arch demon's mouth, and she was tossed about like a rag doll.

His heart plummeted into his gut as the monstrous beast began to inch toward Delani and her team. Dread flowed through him like rivers of ice water. All he could do was sit and watch as the arch demon crept nearer and nearer to Delani until a magical burst of light blasted through the night, the explosion deafening and blinding him for a moment before his senses refocused.

Cullen ignored the ringing in his ears as he watched the broken ramparts of Adamant Fortress begin to crumble. First it was only a few stones, and then it was all of them. The arch demon fell, clawing at the air as it attempted to regain control of its wings. His teeth ached as he clenched them, his heart pounding deafeningly in his ears as Cullen prayed that Delani made it off of those ramparts in time.

She and her team were faint specs on the walls, but even at this distance he could see that they would not make it. The stones were falling faster than their legs could carry them. After a second the whole structure gave way and succumbed to gravity. Stones fell, bodies fell, his friends, the Inquisitor, _Delani_.

"No!" Cullen screamed into the night. His stomach rolled, threatening to expel all of its contents. Uncontrollable, unbearable, petrifying fear paralyzed him as he watched Delani plummet to what would surely be her death. He had just gotten her as his own, had _just_ learned what it would be like to be with a woman he was so undeserving of, and the Maker was stealing her from him.

Just as his heart was about to shatter to a million pieces a flash of green light tore through the air. The space where stone and structure had just been toppling to the ground was replaced by a green rip in the Veil. Debris fell from this dimension into the next, Delani and the others falling along with it. As soon as they were through the gaping hole in the sky, the tear resealed and they were gone.

Cullen wrangled with this overwhelming sense of loss. Delani had opened that tear in the Fade. She hadn't fallen to her death. There was a chance that she was still alive, that he would see her at the end of this battle. He needed to hold out faith. Delani had returned to him after Haven. She would find her way back to his arms again.

_Maker_, he pleaded to a deity that had always remained silent when he needed Him most. _Please bring her back to me_.

* * *

_Fenedhis_, Delani swore. It was always one thing after the other. Just once she wanted to go into a fight and not end up in the Beyond. First it was when recruiting the assistance of the Templars, and now again after being attacked by an arch demon. Yes, she'd been the one to bring them all here this time around, but it hadn't been intentional.

That fall was going to end all of their lives. Delani would have splattered against dirt and stone like an egg knocked from its nest. She couldn't afford to die, not when she had so much to live for, not when her clan's continual survival depended on her, not when her relationship with Cullen was still so new. Death was not an option, she must have known that on a subatomic level because her tearing open the Veil hadn't been a feat of conscious decision.

One second she had been falling, dreading the fate that awaited her on the sharp rocks below, and then the next moment she was surrounded by green light. They were standing physically in the Beyond, trespassing in a realm that had been tainted more than a millennia before their arrival. It wasn't supposed to be possible, and yet here they stood.

Delani ignored Dorian and Solas as they chattered in background of her thoughts. The two men were completely enthralled by their surroundings. Ever the scholar, Dorian was concerning himself with the science of it all. He wanted to understand what had happened to them, and this new realm to which they didn't belong. And Solas appeared to just be happy to be standing in this impossible place. They went back and forth discussing their surroundings while the rest of the group trudged quietly along behind Delani.

As much as she enjoyed listening to Solas's tales about the Beyond, participating in her own had not been on Delani's agenda for the day. She had to agree with Bull on this one, the Beyond was creepy and eerie, and the sooner they escaped the better for all of them.

Her shoulder ached from where her body had collided with a rather large piece of rubble, right before she'd torn open the Veil and transported them into the Beyond. The collision had caused her to dislocate her shoulder and, as soon as they realized where they were, Delani had asked Bull to help her set it back into place. It was far from her only ache, but it was the most prominent one. Fighting off waves of demons was not helping with the pain.

Divine Justinia, or the spirit, whatever she was had already helped Delani regain a majority of her memories. All that was left were a few remaining obstacles and then facing the fear demon himself. The thought filled her with dread. Delani had this gut deep feeling of foreboding. She'd felt it the moment she'd ripped open the Veil. This would not end well.

_Focus_, she commanded herself, straightening her spine and rolling her shoulders. They were almost out of there. Once the fear demon was dealt with they could step through the tear and back into their own reality. It would take weeks for her to scrub her mind clean of everything they'd seen here but, Creators, she was going to try.

They walked for a little while until something caught Delani's attention in the distance. There was a fence on the far end of the valley they were trudging through. Behind it were what appeared to be tomb stones. Curious, Delani went to go explore the misplaced graveyard.

"Did you find something, Boss?" asked Bull, dread in his voice. "It's not more demons, is it? I fucking hate demons."

She ignored him, maintaining the cool exterior she'd summoned upon dropping herself and the others into the Beyond. Survival and escape were the only things on her mind. Keeping up distracting conversation was not how she was going to achieve those things, so she didn't even bother. Besides, Bella was spewing out enough nervous, sarcastic nonsense for the whole lot of them. If any of them found Delani's stoic behavior disconcerting, no one had said anything about it thus far.

Stepping past the fence, Delani confirmed that the area was in fact a grave yard. Intrigued, she set out read the names inscribed on the tomb stones. Her stomach fell as she recognized the name to whom the grave belonged.

_Blackwall_

_Himself_

She moved to the next, her heart rate picking up.

_Cole_

_Despair_

_Solas_

_Dying Alone_

Dread spread through her like the cool burn of frost bite. These were not graves, they were her companions' greatest fears. She quickly scanned over each of them, trying not to dwell on what she read. It wasn't her right to know what terrified her friends. If they wanted her to have access to that information they would have shared it with her themselves. It wasn't their fears that she was after anyway, it was her own.

There was a tall tomb in the back of the graveyard. It was a marvelous thing, too beautifully crafted for its terrible purpose. Barren tree branches were carved into the polished stone. The design was artful, breathtaking, mesmerizing. It was a distraction from the words beautifully etched into the stone. Delani read it, her heart sinking into her stomach as she felt the truth of the text consume her very soul.

_Delani Lavellan_

_Impotence_

Iron Bull, who was looming behind her, reading the text over her shoulder, let out a low and rumbling laugh. "What's the matter, Boss?" His tone was mocking, desperately making light of a situation they were all finding unbearably uncomfortable. Nudging her shoulder a massive hand, he joked, "Can't get it up for the Commander?"

She set her jaw and shrugged his hand off of her shoulder. Taking a deep breath to steady the roll of her stomach, Delani turned sharply on her heel and fled from the graveyard. No, Delani wasn't afraid of an inability to 'get it up'. Her fear was simply inability. That was it. Inability to take action, inability to save her people. It was being helpless, powerless, and useless, not being enough to do what had to be done. It was a legitimate fear, and she did not need to be mocked over the phrasing.

Swallowing back the nausea that had come with reading her tombstone, Delani led the group with renewed purpose. They needed to leave this realm of nightmares and demons. They needed to return to reality, to where the world made sense. Impotence, inadequacy, dearth, she couldn't afford any of these traits. Her team, her people, the Inquisition, they were all depending on her to be more than enough. They needed her to be stronger than her fears. Delani hoped that she didn't disappoint them the same way she had her father.

_Forgive me, Papae_, she thought, remembering the warm chestnut color of her fathers eyes. _If I had been _more_ you would still be with me_.

* * *

A cool breeze swept through the training ground, gently caressing her sweat covered skin. Delani and Iron Bull were of like mind when it came to cleansing their thoughts of the memory of everything that had happened in the Beyond. Where Bull wanted to be beaten to a pulp by a rod in order to prove to himself that he was stronger than his fears, Delani needed to fatigue every muscle in her body with a strenuous workout.

"Fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four," Iron Bull counted from above her, keeping track of how many pushups she'd done.

Already her arms were starting to shake under the strain. She'd done more than a hundred pull-ups, and thrown countless punches at Iron Bull's calloused palms. The energy left in her shoulders and arms was depleting. Delani was wringing every last drop of energy from her muscles like water from a rag.

It didn't matter that if she kept it up she was likely to collapse. That was the goal, after all. She wanted to push herself so far over the edge of exhaustion that she didn't even have the energy to remember. She wanted to forget the Beyond, she wanted to forget her tombstone, she wanted to forget the horror that had grown at having her greatest fear being given a name. There was power in names, and now that her fear had one, she needed to shake off the power that it had over her.

Bull continued to count, "Sixty, sixty-one," his tone grew harsh when he noticed her shaking arms slowing her progress. "Come on, Boss. Sixty-two, sixty-three, sixty…four. Only thirty-six more, Boss, then we're done."

Only thirty-six more until they were done with her upper body. She still had her core and her legs to workout. Delani wanted to push herself so hard that the simple task of getting herself out of bed was taxing. She wanted to feel the familiar ache in all of her muscles. She wanted her body to hate her just as much as she had hated the Beyond. It was the only way she knew how to loosen the memory's hold over her.

The faint sounds of footsteps registered in the back of her mind, but Delani quickly dismissed them. Skyhold was busy today. Their victory at Adamant Fortress had greatly bolstered morale. Soldiers, runners, barmaids, people in general had been walking excitedly around Skyhold all day. They would offer her and Iron Bull congratulations on their victory as they passed. She assumed that the approaching footsteps belonged to someone else wanting to give them praise.

"Hey, Commander," Iron Bull said, lifting her attention from her workout.

She glanced past her brow to find Cullen stepping up to stand beside Bull. His amber gaze was on her, curious and admiring as he watched her continue to push herself through her exercises. Delani returned her focus to the ground beneath her, to the smell of the dirt, to the feel of the stones digging into her palms. She furiously ignored the blood rushing to her cheeks at the sight of his eyes appreciating her muscle structure.

Delani had to complete her workout before she allowed herself to acknowledge Cullen, or the world around her for that matter. Her memories, her fears, Adamant and the Beyond had shaken Delani, and this was the only way she knew how to regain control of her mind. If she allowed herself to be distracted by Cullen before her mental scrubbing was complete, it would haunt her for days to come.

"Iron Bull," Cullen's beautiful voice returned Bull's greeting. He moved his attention to Delani and she could hear the disapproval in his voice when he inquired, "How is your shoulder, Inquisitor?"

Knowing that he was going to try and pull her from her workout before she was finished, Delani grunted, "Fine." She lowered herself to the ground before she pushed herself up again, trying desperately to stop her arms from shaking from fatigue.

The sound of his disapproval rang louder in his tone when he challenged her, "Really?" She nodded once, and he reminded her, "Because I remember that a little over an hour ago our healers instructed you not to overwork your shoulder."

She felt Iron Bull's eyes narrow on her. "You told me that they gave you a clean bill of health, Boss." His concern was obvious in his voice, as well as his distaste in being lied to.

Sighing, Delani set her knees on the ground and stared up at the two men glaring down at her. Yes, she'd lied to the Iron Bull and, yes, the healers had advised her against doing the very thing that she'd just been doing. She was wrong and she knew it, but neither man understood that she needed this. Neither of them knew what terrible things had stirred up inside of her while in the Beyond. Neither of them could understand that this was the only way that she could move on from those thoughts of inadequacy.

"Aside from my shoulder I _did_ get a clean bill of health," she said to Bull before offering him an apologetic smile. When he frowned at her Delani pushed herself up onto her feet and gave the qunari a nettled look. Raising an eyebrow at him, she stated, "I was just beating you with a pole not an hour ago. I don't think that you're in the best position to be making judgments."

"_I'm _not leading the Inquisition," he rebutted, crossing his thick arms in front of his wide chest.

"You're right," she returned, her tone biting. Jabbing a finger into her chest she spat, "_I_ am, and _I_ need this."

The expression on Cullen's handsome features softened. Her tone had revealed more than she'd intended it to. Cullen could tell that something was wrong with her, that she wasn't exercising for the sake of a good workout. She could tell by the concern creasing his features that he understood that she needed this, but she could also tell that he wasn't going to permit her to continue to overwork herself.

Straightening his spine, Cullen perched his hands on the pommel of his blade and raised his chin as he regarded Delani. He was putting on his 'Commander face' and Delani felt a warmth radiate from her core at the sight of it. Creators curse him, he looked irresistible when he looked at her like that.

Addressing her as though he would a recruit, he corrected her earlier statement. "What you need is a break."

"Cullen, no—" she tried to argue with him, to reason with him, to make him understand why she needed to remain exactly where she was and finish what she had started, but he interrupted her before she could.

He took a step toward her, his hand outstretched in offering. Delani looked from his open palm to his eyes and saw a tender concern whirling in those beautiful golden depths. "Please, Inquisitor," his tone was low, gentle, as though he were trying not to spook a cornered animal. A small smile curled the corner of his mouth and he assured her, "It will take only but a moment."

How was she supposed to resist that face? Creators, the man knew how to wield those lips better than any weapon. A sigh expelled from Delani before she placed her fingers in his hand. She allowed herself to be pulled toward him, and accepted defeat the moment the smell of him filled her nose.

Cullen looked to Iron Bull and gave the qunari a departing bow of his head. "Until next time, Bull," he stated before collecting Delani's tunic from the practice dummy she had hung it on.

Iron Bull muttered a farewell before turning toward the tavern. When Cullen released her hand from his and walked steadily beside her, Delani gave him a sidelong glance and asked, "Where are you taking me, Commander?"

A plotting smirk hinted at the edges of his mouth. Cullen handed her her tunic and remained quiet as she pulled it over her shoulders and began to fasten the knots that secured it in the front. When she was halfway done with her task, he found his voice and said, "It's a surprise."

She huffed in distaste. Delani didn't particularly like surprises, but she liked Cullen and she liked his company, so she would endure. She finished with the last knot and pulled her hair out from the ponytail she had secured it in. The auburn strands fell around her face and well past her shoulders, some strands were clumped with sweat. Combing her fingers through her hair, Delani fixed her outward appearance as best she could and she followed Cullen up the steps that would lead them into the main hall.

Once they were atop the staircase Delani allowed herself to wonder where he was taking her. She half expected him to take her through the rotunda and toward his office, feeling like he would be drawn to the familiarity of his living quarters. To her surprise, Cullen nodded in greeting to Varric, who smirked knowingly in reply, before leading Delani into the garden.

There were fewer people in the garden than usual, but it wasn't necessarily strange. The Inquisition had just made great strides in their fight against Corypheus. They'd just had their first real victory. Skyhold was celebrating, and celebrating was better done in taverns than in gardens.

Glad that there were so few eyes to watch them cross the garden, Delani laced her fingers through Cullen's and smiled at him when he looked down at their intertwined fingers with surprise in his eyes. He didn't shake his hand free or look displeased by the contact, instead a contented smile surfaced on his gorgeous lips and Delani felt a bone deep desire to kiss that intoxicating scar that ran along the corner of his mouth.

"Are we going to play another game of chess, _vhenan'ara_?" she asked, her tone teasing.

His smile grew and he shook his head. "Not today," he answered before observing, "though it might do you some good to temper out your victory with a little defeat."

His amber gaze met and held her sea green eyes. His tone turned teasing as well when he added, "It might help to keep you humble."

A laugh sounded from Delani and she placed her fingers in front of her mouth to fight back her amusement. Unable to help the grin that expanded over her lips, she stated, "I am a great many things, Commander, but I do not believe that humble is one of them."

The smile that curled the corners of his mouth was disagreeing. Cullen pulled up their intertwined hands and stared at the glowing mark that ran jaggedly across her open palm. Cullen's smile faded a bit, as he feathered his thumb over the green glowing scar. Quickly meeting her gaze, he whispered, "You are the most humble person I know," before bringing her open palm to his lips and brushing a chaste kiss against the inside of her hand.

Heat immediately started to unfurl its phoenix like wings under her skin. Blood rushed into her cheeks and Delani's eyes fluttered. Her heart skipped along the bones of her ribcage, the beat erratic, jovial. She stared up at him, her mouth slightly open as she watched his puckered lips press into the curve of her hand. Coherent thought eluded her and, blinking hard, Delani had to remind herself to breathe.

Snapping her mouth shut, Delani swallowed hard and tried to refocus her mind on their conversation and not the feel of his stubble against her hand. The kiss had been quick, a warm peck, but it had affected her straight down to her core. When he met her gaze again it was obvious that he was oblivious to the effect he had just had on her. _Good_, Delani thought. She didn't understand it herself.

He returned their interwoven fingers to their sides and continued to lead her deeper into the garden. There was a bend at the end of the garden that led to a secluded little area, lined by trees, bushes covered with blooming flowers, and stones atheistically set up in the most lovely, calming pattern. The little area was free from prying eyes, it was shaded by the full tree branches, and there was the pleasant perfume of flowers in full bloom in the air. But what caught Delani's attention was the blanket stretched out over the center of the area. There was a bottle of wine and a basket filled with fruits and cheeses just waiting in invitation. It took Delani a moment to realize that the invitation was for her.

Her attention jolted back to Cullen and she breathlessly wondered, "Is this for me?"

The smirk on his lips was delicious. "Well," he started, mirth in his eyes and a joke in his voice, "I intended it to be for _us_. That is, if you don't mind sharing."

She couldn't help her grin even if she tried. "I don't mind at all," she replied, allowing him to tug her toward the blanket.

"I suppose I should count myself lucky that you're feeling so generous."

She laughed before nodding that he had it right. "Enjoy it while it lasts, _vhenan'ara_."

Easing herself down onto the cloth, Delani's smile persisted as Cullen sat down beside her, one of his long legs folded in front of him while he perched an elbow on his other knee. Cullen opened the bottle of wine and poured the maroon liquid into a glass. He handed the glass to her, and Delani couldn't help the blush that burned her cheeks when her fingers brushed against his as she accepted the glass.

She took a sip, hoping that the alcohol would help settle her nerves. Since when had Cullen become the one in their relationship to cause _her_ to blush? It would have been an infuriating development if it wasn't also an endearing one. Cullen was charming, he was seductive, he was alluring and he didn't even know it. He was simply irresistible, and it came with little to no effort at all.

When nearly half of her glass was poured down her throat, Delani reminded herself to slow down. She glanced at Cullen only to find his gaze already on her, and she had to look away again to hide how his attention affected her. Clearing her throat, she tucked her bangs behind her ear, and said, "This is…" she searched for the right word, but there were too many to describe his gesture: sweet, endearing, lovely, perfect. Delani settled on, "Surprising."

Picking a grape from the fruit basket and popping it into her mouth, Delani couldn't help it when she wondered, "May I ask why?"

The look Cullen gave her was playfully scolding. "Must I have a reason to treat you to a pleasant reprieve?" When she raised a challenging eyebrow a soft chuckle rumbled out of him and Cullen nodded that she might have been a little bit right. He smiled at her for a second before his thoughts slowly wiped the smile from his lips.

After a moment the _shemlan_ was regarding her with concern in his lovely golden eyes. His features were serious, his face crinkled with echoes of worry as he worked his jaw. Raising his hand to her cheek, Cullen ran his thumb across the curve of her cheekbone and asked, "Would you think less of me if I told you that I feared for you at Adamant?"

She moved her wine glass from one hand to the other before raising her hand to hold his against her cheek. Thumbing over his knuckles, she shook her head and gently replied, "Only if you would think less of me for also worrying after you."

Cullen's jaw clenched as he stared at her, his nostrils flared as he visibly recalled the emotions he had felt, the fear he had struggled with. Delani felt awful for making him worry. She doubted it would make him feel any better if she admitted that she had also been afraid for her own survival as well.

"When Clarel unleashed that spell, when the entire wall started to collapse," Cullen shook his head, banishing the thoughts, chasing away the memory. Delani understood. She wanted to erase the memory just as much as he did. His hand moved from her cheek to the nape of her neck. Gently he tugged her toward him until her forehead was pressed against his. "I thought that I'd lost you for sure."

Shutting her eyes, Delani relished the feel of his brow pressed against hers. She basked in the heat that radiated off of him in waves, the masculine power that spoke to her senses and stirred something feminine deep inside of her. Allowing a comforting smile to stretch over her lips, Delani reminded him, "This cat still has a few more lives, remember?"

A slow and even chuckle sounded from him and Cullen reluctantly released her. Raising his glass in cheers, he said, "To making the most of them."

She bit her lip in a poor attempt to hide her replying smile. Clinking her glass against his, she took another sip of the delectable wine before holding the glass steady on top of her lap. Delani stared into the deep maroon liquid, contemplating it, admiring the rich color and the sweet flavor.

This was a pleasant distraction, but the residual ache that was starting to set in her overworked muscles was reminding her of why she had been pushing herself so hard to begin with. Deep-seated disquiet started to nest in the thicket of her chest, black inky fingers sifting through her until it was all she could feel.

Delani took in a sharp breath when Cullen tucked a finger under her chin and pulled her attention to him. Worry was back in his amber gaze, stronger than it had been before. His tone was gentle when he spoke.

"Hey," he started, holding her gaze, offering her a comforting smile, "Are you alright?"

Biting back the immediate and untrue _'yes, I'm fine_' she shook her head and took a deep, steadying breath. Despite the newness of their relationship, Delani felt as though it were only right that she share her feelings with Cullen. She wanted transparency and communication, and the only way that she was going to get them was by starting with herself. If she could allow herself to trust Cullen then, perhaps, he would return the kindness. It was the only way she knew how to make their relationship work.

She took another sip from her wine glass, finishing what remained of her drink before setting the cup aside. Clearing her throat, Delani trained her gaze on the cloth beneath them and started picking the stray balls of lint from its surface.

Quietly, she started, "I assume that you've read my report about what happened when I tore open the Veil, when I walked through the Beyond," shaking her head she corrected the term to the one that humans used, "the Fade."

Cullen nodded once, his expression was both curious and concerned. "I have."

"So you know about what I saw there…" she rubbed her arm, fighting off the dreary chill that coursed through her bones like a cold that no fire could warm. "You know about the fear demon?"

He inched closer to her, moving so that he could catch her gaze and, once he had, lock it with his own. Cullen's brow was furrowed with worry, and his tone was gentle when he informed her, "I only know what was on the report." Placing a comforting hand on her arm, he wondered, "What happened, Delani?"

"The fear demon," she clasped her eyes shut and took another deep breath. Working out had been a much easier way of exorcising the memory. She hadn't expected giving voice to her fears to be easy, but she hadn't anticipated it being this difficult either. "It showed me what my greatest fear was, and now it haunts me."

Offering her a sympathetic look, he asked, "Is this why you were pushing yourself so hard before?"

Delani nodded. Self-consciously she explained, "If my every muscle aches then the pain will distract me from my thoughts."

"And your fears," Cullen completed for her and Delani nodded that he had it right. Warm amber eyes gazed at her with such tenderness that she could hardly stand it. The small smile that warmly inched across his lips was supportive.

Cullen placed his hand on her knee and gently squeezed her leg before asking, "Tell me what this fear is that haunts my brave huntress, so that we may conquer it together."

She couldn't help the smile that unearthed on her lips at the sound of his words. Cullen was so sweet, so caring. He wanted to attend to her needs, to make sure that she was alright and, Creators, did she want to let him. In her entire life she had only met one other man like him, and she had lost him to her own stupidity. The smile fell from her face and Delani's gaze fell to where his hand was still resting on her knee.

Placing her hand on top of his, she squeezed his strong digits before looking back into his welcoming golden eyes. "I'm afraid that I'm not enough." Opening her marked hand, the anchor glowed with its otherworldly green light. She glared at it, frowning at the scar, at her curse.

When she clasped her hand shut again, she muttered, "This wasn't given to me by the Maker," she looked up to meet Cullen's gaze again, trying to make him understand what she had known all along, and what she now feared beyond reason. "I'm not the 'Herald of Andraste'. I'm just an elf with a terrible sense of timing and extraordinarily bad luck. And I'm afraid that I won't be enough to do what needs to be done."

His expression softened and Cullen pulled her into his arms. Pressing her against his chest, his warmth enveloped her and suddenly Delani felt as though he were filling her with his strength. Cullen was the sun, and she needed him to bloom, she needed his light to give her strength; for without it she would surely fail.

There was a mildly reprimanding laugh in his voice when he next spoke, scolding her for ever thinking that way. "You are far from 'just an elf,' Delani." He pulled away slightly so that he could look her in the eyes. Shaking his head as he stared at her, he assured her, "You are strong, brave, and conscientious. You are more than most people could ever aspire to be, and no old Tevinter magic made you that way. It's just who you are."

Cupping her cheek in his hand, Cullen insisted, "You need not ever fear not being enough, because you are not alone in this. You have your companions, you have your advisors, and you have _me_." He smiled at her, reaffirming the honesty of his words. "We are here to support and assist you, and with us by your side you _will not_ fail."

She let his words sink in past her surface, allowed them to reverberate through her. She was not alone. She had Cullen, and he would not let her fall. Suddenly she felt the fool for ever fearing being inadequate. How could she ever have such a fear when this powerful, strong, and intelligent man looked at her like _that_? Biting into her bottom lip, Delani could do little more than just stare at this handsome man who she was so undeserving of. Where had he come from? How did such a man even exist?

"Thank you, _vhenan'ara_," she whispered, not trusting her voice to not give away how deeply his words had touched her.

A smile grew on his lips, it was soft and self-conscious and accompanied by a soft blush. "Would you be upset with me if I kissed you?" he asked, hesitant, careful, needy.

Delani gnawed on her bottom lip and felt her own cheeks flush. Grinning, she informed him, "I would be upset with you if you didn't."

Without needing further invitation, Cullen brought his mouth down to hers and stole the breath right from her lungs. Delani reacted on instinct. She buried her fingers in his silky blond hair and secured his lips against hers. At the feeling of his tongue tickling at her bottom lip, Delani welcomed him into her mouth with a moan.

He tasted of wine and warmth, and it was intoxicating. Delani felt her whole body come alive with his heat. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, her lungs filling with his scent, and it only served to heat her blood faster. He was hot, his touch was fire, Cullen was the sun and she was happily burning in his light.

His hands were on her, his reaction to her just as strong. With one hand at the nape of her neck and the other at the small of her back, Cullen pinned her to his chest. The kiss may have started out as gentle, timid, but it had quickly escalated to desperate and needy. Cullen was a heady creature, and she wanted more of him, she wanted all of him.

All notions of propriety abandoned them and they couldn't even blame it on the wine. It was the feel of his lips against hers, his tongue in her mouth, his hands on her body that were leaving her so helplessly inebriated. Delani felt as though she were on fire, and he was the only person who would ever be able to put it out.

Gently, reverently, Cullen eased her onto her back, his lips not leaving hers for a second. Delani desperately grasped at his back, pulling his body toward hers, needing to feel his weight pressed against her. He was driving her mad. Coherent thought was impossible. There was only Cullen, the taste of him, the feel of him, her need for him. How easily their exchanging blushes and chaste kisses became something so much more dangerous.

His hand was on her thigh, rubbing the length of it, the friction adding heat to the inferno raging inside of her. Delani felt mindless, out of control. She wanted Cullen. She had never wanted anyone so badly in her entire life. This man was made of desire, the taste of him promised such sensual things. Did he even realize the effect that he had on her? Did he know what he was doing to her?

The answer was an obvious no because, if he did, he wouldn't have moved his lips from hers. He wouldn't have left a trail of kisses all the way to her neck. If Cullen knew how dangerous the ground was beneath him, he would have never taken her earlobe into his mouth. He would have never dragged the fire of his tongue up the length of her long pointed ear.

Delani's eyesight immediately blackened. Her entire body bowed in reaction to his mouth on her ear. She fisted his pauldrons, a moan shaking through her. It was loud, it was needy, and he should _not_ have done that. When she came to there was an aggression inside of her, a fierceness that he could never have anticipated.

She shoved his shoulder, rolling him off of her and onto his back, and climbed on top of him in one smooth motion. It happened quickly, faster than he had time to blink. Cullen stared up at her, his eyes wide with surprise and desire. Delani stared down at him, watching her prey, her nostrils flared as she breathed him in.

Hand firmly gripping his breastplate, Delani was just about to show him the dangers of licking her ears when the sound of someone clearing their throat came from behind her. Her gaze ripped over her shoulder, dangerous, a growl in her throat. How dare anyone interrupt them. It was an offense punishable by death.

When she found Bella Hawke standing behind her, Delani allowed her fury to slowly subside. She climbed off of Cullen and stood to her feet. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cullen straightening out his clothes and try to comb his hair back into place. She didn't need to see his face to know that he was blushing intensely. The position that Bella had just caught them in had been very precarious. He was only lucky that she had come when she had. One moment later and Cullen would have been ravaged, and that was surely a worse position to be caught in.

"Nice technique, Inquisitor," Bella remarked with a laugh in her voice. Her blue eyes were alight with amusement, mirth in her features, a teasing smile on her lips. "Large and in charge is also my position of choice."

Delani fought the replying grin from her lips. "You better have a damn good reason for interrupting, Bella," she growled, even though her tone was playful.

Tousling her curls away from her face, Bella shook her head and shrugged. "I did," she assured Delani before moving her gaze onto Cullen and allowing a large and taunting grin to expand over her lips. "But I can't remember what it was."

_Yeah_, Delani could sympathize. Cullen had that effect on her too.


	12. Chapter 12

"And what is the word for tree?" asked Cullen, watching Delani's plush lips, waiting for her to form the word so that he could imitate her.

She smiled, her green eyes bright and flashing with content laughter. Speaking slowly so that he could listen to her nuances, so that he could see the shape of the word on her lips, so that he could hear where to properly place the accent, she answered, "_Adahl_."

"_Adahl_." he repeated, smiling to himself.

What a strange and beautiful language she spoke. Cullen knew that it would take time for him to properly learn it, but he wanted to. Delani often spoke with Solas in Elvish. She also spoke in it with Cullen, whispers while they kissed, and he wanted to know what she was saying, he wanted to speak it back to her. Cullen wanted to speak to her in a language that was so dear to her heart.

Already Cullen knew how to introduce himself, and how to say thank you. Smiling confidently, he stated, "_Emma _Cullen." It wasn't exactly a difficult phrase, but he was learning, and he loved how Delani grinned when she heard him speak her native tongue.

"_Ir sul'dirth, vhenan'ara,_" she happily replied, praising him for remembering the wording and pronouncing it correctly.

Bowing his head in gratitude, Cullen inserted, "_Ma serannas,_" and smiled to himself when Delani's grin grew.

They were in the garden again, not too far from where Cullen had set up the picnic for the both of them. He felt an irritatingly familiar warmth start to spread under his cheeks as he remembered how far their kiss had gone and how quickly they had lost themselves to it. If Hawke hadn't interrupted —he still hadn't forgiven her for the intrusion— Cullen wondered how far it would have gotten.

The moment that Cullen had traced the shape of Delani's ear with his tongue she had become a woman possessed. She had kicked his feet out from under him during their sparring match, Cullen knew how swiftly and effectively she moved, but that time had been different. When Cullen had tasted the shell of her ear, had traveled its length from lobe to tip, her entire body had reacted to him.

Her moans had stoked the flame burning dangerously inside of him, her back had arched to press her chest to his, her fingers had clasped at him with senseless desperation, and Cullen had reveled in it. Then, a fraction of a second later, Delani had shoved him onto his back and mounted him faster than he could react to it. One moment he had been sucking on her earlobe, and the next he was bewilderedly staring up at Delani's narrowed gaze, his instincts warning him that he was about to be devoured by a foe he could not defeat. Delani may as well have been a dragon; she had certainly looked the part.

Chaste kisses never lasted between them. He found it astounding how quickly simple affection was melted away by the heat of passion when his lips were pressed against hers, when her body was hugged to his. It was dangerous how badly he wanted her, how uncontrollably his body reacted to hers. Cullen had always prided himself on his sense of control, but when it came to Delani he traded that control for mindless abandon. What was worse was that he couldn't bring himself to be bothered by it. If anything, Cullen wanted to test the taste of her ear again.

Shaking his head, Cullen dismissed the thought. He cared for Delani more than she could possibly know. He did not want to soil their relationship by mindlessly succumbing to carnal desires. She was deserving of adoration, of fervent worship, not a meaningless tumble in the middle of Skyhold's garden. There was no doubt in his mind that Cullen would have Delani, that he would know her as only a man could know a woman, but it would have to wait until the right time.

When his body had grown too warm with his wandering thoughts, Cullen cleared his throat and blinked himself back into reality. The cold mountain air helped to cool the desire inside of him that had started as an ember and had easily grown into a flame. The smell of blooming flowers helped to keep him grounded, and the weight of curious gazes helped to remind him that they were not alone as they had been before.

All of the paperwork that Delani had been avoiding for weeks had finally caught up with her. Josephine had managed to corner the Inquisitor, and remind her that reports and requisitions were a very important part of her responsibilities. After her scolding, Delani had skulked into Cullen's office and pouted about how badly she _didn't_ want to fill out paperwork.

Unable to resist the adorable pout of her lips, Cullen had proposed that he keep her company while she attended to her regretted, and neglected, duties. He had his own paperwork to fill out, countless reports that needed to be read through, and he would be more than happy to do them beside her. "_Perhaps pleasant company will make the task less of a chore_," he had said to her, hoping that she would agree to the arrangement.

Delani's response had been an eager and immediate yes. She had practically bounced on her toes with excitement before running off to gather her papers and meet him in the garden. Now, more than an hour later, Cullen had already sifted through his own paperwork and finished what he could while away from his desk. To pass the time, and to distract Delani from her distaste of her current task, Cullen had decided to learn some Elvish. He wasn't as quick of a study as he hoped he would be, but he was retaining more than he had originally expected himself to.

Tapping his fingers on the table dividing them, Cullen stared at Delani's lovely profile. Her nose was so delicate, its shape refined, small and cute as a button. Her lips were full, naturally swollen, and currently her bottom lip was being gnawed between her teeth. She was resting her cheek in the bed of her palm and absently dipping her quill into the inkwell with no true intention of using it. The crimson color of her _vallaslin_ was beautiful against the bronzy tone of her skin, and reminded him that it traveled well past the the collar of her tunic.

"So," Cullen started before his mind could wander back down the dangerous path he had just turned away from. When Delani's sea green eyes lifted from the parchment scattered across the table before her, and met his gaze, he asked, "If _vhenan'ara_ means 'my heart's desire' does that mean that _vhenan_ means 'my heart'?"

An embarrassed smile unraveled across her lips. Shaking her head, Delani explained, "That was actually just laziness on my part." Her cheeks flushed and she brushed her bangs out of her face. She gave Cullen a coy look and said, "_Vhenan_ means heart, and _vhenan'ara_ means heart's desire. Without _ma_ I was just calling you 'heart's desire' without claiming you as my own."

He couldn't help the smile that pinched the corners of his mouth. She was so damn cute when she looked all abashed like that. "It's the intent that counts, right?" his grin grew when the blush on her cheeks deepened. Her eyelashes fluttered and Cullen couldn't help himself when his hand reached over to trace the curve of her cheekbone.

Remembering himself, Cullen reluctantly retracted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck as he gave the garden a cautious once over. A few curious gazes were still on them, watching the both of them intently but, for the most part, they would continue to be left alone.

"What does _da'len _mean?"

Delani smiled, appearing happy to answer his question, "It is a term of endearment regarding someone younger than yourself."

"And _lethallin_?" he asked, investigating further.

"Another term of endearment, for males," she supplied. "It is usually used with those you are familiar with, like a clansman or a cousin."

Humming that he understood, Cullen pursued the line of questioning. He was taking this conversation somewhere, he just hoped that she did not disapprove of where it was going. Leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, Cullen watched Delani's expression as he made his next observation.

"Your mother calls you_ da'mi_."

She nodded, her smile softening with longing for her home and her family. She missed her mother and she missed her clan, but she was happy to have this conversation with Cullen. "It means 'little blade'," she explained. "My father started to call me it when he noticed my proficiency for daggers."

"You don't talk much about your father," Cullen stated, straying from his original purpose in initiating this line of questioning, feeling as though he were treading on untested ground.

Was their relationship too new for him to pursue this topic? Perhaps, but Cullen desperately wanted to know what had happened. Delani's entire demeanor would change at the mention of her father. Her posture would open while her beautiful features would glaze over with an expression he could only describe as ashamed. Was she ashamed of the man, or of herself? He couldn't help how badly he wanted to know.

"No," Delani agreed and Cullen picked right up on the warning in her voice, despite the nonchalance of her tone. "I don't."

Knowing that she wanted him to drop the topic, that was precisely what Cullen did. She didn't want to talk about her father, and it wasn't his place to press the matter further. He hadn't even meant to bring it up, it was his curiosity that had gotten the better of him.

He cleared his throat and returned to his original purpose. Smiling in attempt to lighten the mood once more, Cullen observed, "It seems that everyone you care for, and who cares for you, has an endearment at the ready." He placed his hand on top of hers and skated his thumb over the back of her hand before asking, "But what do _I_ call you?"

The blush that spread under Delani's cheeks was so damned endearing that he couldn't help the smile that quirked the corner of his mouth even if he tried. She bit her lip, trying to hide the simper his words had pulled from her, and it was a failing effort. Leaving the quill in the inkwell she'd been splashing it in, Delani placed her hand on top of his and gently squeezed it.

A melodic laugh sounded from her, and she shook her head in answer to his question. "After how long it took for me to get you to call me by my name, I am perfectly content with you calling me Delani."

Cullen returned her smile with a lopsided one of his own. Though she had a point, he remained largely unsatisfied with her answer. Delani was so meticulous with her endearments, only giving them to those she fiercely cared for. It seemed only right that she had one for herself, that he give her an endearment that verbalized how much she meant to him, and how deeply he cared for her. Terms like _sweetheart_ or _my dear_ felt so lacking when compared to the soul crushing weight of the Elvish tongue.

He would learn more of her language, and he would find the endearment appropriate for her. For now, he would oblige her in the simplicity of her request. Smiling in understanding, Cullen replied, "_Ma nuvenin_, Delani."

"_Ma seranas, vhenan'ara."_ She said, patting his hand before begrudgingly returning her attention to the paperwork still left unfinished, and started to tend to the pile once again.

Leaning back in his seat, Cullen sucked in a deep breath and admired how the leaf covered trees filtered the sun's harsh light. There was a chirping of songbirds in the garden, the sound displaced considering how far up the mountain Skyhold was located. Wondering how the birds had found the safety of the fortress, he admired their tunes as they skipped across the tree branches and into the sky. Theirs was a lovely song when compared to the guttural cawing of Leliana's crows.

At the feeling of someone approaching their table, Cullen pulled his gaze from the overhanging tree branches to find the woman taking long, graceful strides in their direction. There was a smugness to Hawke's face as she watched them, an overly confident gleam to her blue eyes that had been there since the first time he had ever met her.

A memory surfaced at the sight of her expression, an image of a younger, more spritely version of the woman inviting him to drinks with her and her friends. Her eyes had shown with a flippancy that Cullen had always found off-putting.

He could easily remember the fervency with which she'd used to pursue him, how she used to call all the stops in attempt to woo him. There was no arguing that Hawke had a certain beauty and charm about her —and that had not changed over the years— but the fact of the matter was that Cullen had never felt an attraction strong enough toward her to feel inclined to scale her protective walls built by sarcasm and irreverence.

Hawke had always been a wildcard. Her first year or so in Kirkwall had been a trying one. The Order knew of her sister, they'd known from the start that Bethany was an apostate. The reason they had not immediately brought her to the Gallows was because of how they expected Hawke to react to the abduction of her sister. If they'd knocked down the Amell's door and taken Bethany, Hawke would have put up a fight that would've taken too many Templar lives.

He and Knight-Commander Meredith had decided that it was best to wait until Hawke put distance between herself and her sister. The only way to safely secure Bethany, without losing men to Hawke's fury, was to do it while the sisters were separated. But the Hawke siblings had gone with Varric into the Deep Roads and Bethany's magic was no longer the Order's concern.

For all her claims of neutrality, Hawke's distrust of Templars put her and Cullen at odds more times than he could count. She had assisted the Order enough times to give her breathing room, but whenever an opportunity arose to defend the mages she had taken it without pause. In the end, when Kirkwall's Chantry had been decimated, Cullen had known without a shadow of doubt which side she would chose. Sometimes Cullen couldn't help but wonder how things might have gone differently if she had just had some faith in the Order.

He forced a smile onto his face once Hawke was near enough to the table to pull Delani's attention from her papers. Hawke's gaze moved between them, her smile large on her lips, the mischief in her eyes was different than the kind he adored seeing in Delani's green gaze.

Crossing her arms in front of her bust, Hawke said, "Nice to see you two lovebirds have _some_ sense of decency." by way of greeting.

Delani set down her papers and swiveled around in her seat to face Hawke. Perching her arm on the back of her chair, she smiled up at the other woman and shrugged. "Not much," she replied, a joke in her voice, a laugh in her eyes. "But we figured that we had scarred you enough the last time you snuck up on us unannounced."

When Delani gestured toward one of the two available seats at their table, Hawke accepted the invitation to sit with a smile. A weary breath puffed out of her as she made herself comfortable. Her voluminous curls were a disarray over her shoulders, wild and unpredictable just like the woman herself. When she regarded Delani it was with a warmth in her eyes, and the softness did not go unnoticed by Cullen.

His gaze moved to Delani then, and he watched as the two women shared a moment of wordless conversation. Their similarities were not lost on Cullen, he knew that both women were prone to fits of sass and snark, but for some reason it was only Delani's playfulness that ensnared him so completely.

"Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that this is a goodbye?" wondered Delani as she softly stared at Hawke the way she reserved only for her closest friends. "Your injuries haven't completely healed already, have they?"

A somber smile inched across Hawke's lips and her shoulders jumped with a lethargic shrug. "They've healed enough for me to travel." She answered, confirming Delani's suspicions. "Though the Inquisition has been most hospitable, I figure it's best not to wear out my welcome while I still have it."

Delani moved in her seat, pulling herself closer to the other woman. Placing a hand on Hawke's knee, she assured her, "You are _always_ welcome here, Bella. You know that."

The familiarity with which Delani regarded Hawke surprised him. Cullen looked from one woman to the other, watching them interact as though they were sisters. When he had first learned that Hawke was at Skyhold he would have never guessed that the two women would get along so well. Their similarities were too great, and their differences even more so. He had assumed that they would be at each other's throats, like how strong minded personalities so easily became. Cullen had been wrong. He should have known that it was impossible for anyone to dislike Delani outright.

Patting Delani's hand on her knee, Hawke smiled and rebuked, "You say that now," before a chuckle eased out of her.

Delani reclaimed her hand and leaned back into her seat. Giving Hawke a measured look, she wondered, "Where will you go?"

"I have to swing by Val Royeaux to gather some supplies, then I go north," said Hawke, tousling her curly hair away from her face. She scanned over the garden, inspecting all of its inhabitants in a way that made it clear that it was a task done by reflex. Since the occurrences of Kirkwall, Hawke had to remain always on her guard, even here.

She cleared her throat and continued with the rest of her answer. "The Grey Wardens are moving to regroup at Weisshaupt and, with everything that happened with Stroud, I feel as though I owe it to them to lend my assistance." Her smile cut off whatever argument Delani was about to give, an argument Cullen assumed that they'd already had before. "Besides, it'll be good to see my little sister again."

When Delani didn't immediately reply, Cullen's gaze was pulled to the beautiful elf woman. She was staring at Hawke thoughtfully, her brows furrowed, her lips thin. He could tell just by looking at her that she wanted to say so much to the other woman, but couldn't give voice to the words. It was the look that one friend gave another when they thought that they would not see each other again.

Quietly, Delani asked, just short of pleading, "You will write me, won't you?" Allowing a morose smile to lift her lips, she added, "Keep me informed on your travels and how you are doing?"

"Probably not," Hawke said with a laugh and a shake of her head, and Cullen tensed at the sound of her flippancy.

Could Hawke not tell how badly Delani wanted to stay in touch? Did she not care that she had made a friend in the Inquisitor? If there had been any doubt as to why he'd never felt an attraction to Hawke before, it was just answered. Hawke was facetious and thoughtless. She didn't take the feelings of others into consideration before cracking her jokes. She did not care that her playful and sarcastic tone sometimes hurt those who cared for her. Hawke demanded respect but gave none in return, and he could simply not accept that.

If she noticed the pointed look Cullen was giving her, Hawke gave no outward sign of it. Offering Delani an apologetic smile, she explained, "I am not very good at keeping in touch. It is one of my very few faults." When Cullen quietly scoffed her smile grew and she threw a wink in his direction. Returning her attention to Delani, she was the one to reach over and place her hand on top of the Inquisitor's.

The joke faded from her eyes, the mirth fell from her features, and for a moment Hawke was the most serious that Cullen had ever seen her. "Delani," she started, her voice soft, level. "I'd like to thank you for my life. As much as I know that it should be Stroud going to Weisshaupt, I can't help but think about how cross Fenris would be with me if I'd let myself get killed." A weak smile lifted her lips and Hawke shook her head as she thought about it. "He would have killed me."

Delani stared at the other woman for a moment before standing from her seat and pulling Hawke into a tight embrace. At first Hawke stiffened at having herself wrapped up in the other woman's arms, but after a moment she allowed herself to return the affection.

When they separated Delani tucked her hair behind her ear, and gave Hawke a small smile. "Good luck on your travels, Bella. _Dareth shiral_."

"Thank you, Delani," Bella said, her voice strained. Clearing her throat, she allowed a sardonic simper to unravel across her lips and said, "When you see Corypheus again send him my regards."

"I will," Delani assured her with a shake of her head.

Narrowing her eyes, Hawke forced her expression to turn serious before adding, "If you get Varric killed I will never forgive you."

Delani nodded her agreement and her understanding. "I would never forgive myself," she easily admitted.

Satisfied with Delani's answer, Hawke moved her gaze to Cullen and her smile grew into a teasing grin. He nearly groaned at the familiar sight of it. "It was nice to see you again, Cullen." Glancing quickly at Delani, she stated, "Take care of her, will you? Thedas cannot stand to lose her."

"Neither can I," he inserted before standing to his feet and rounding the table. He offered Hawke his hand and gave it a firm shake when she took it. When her grip loosened, he released her hand with a farewell, "Andraste preserve you, Hawke."

Her smile was grateful before she looked back at Delani and pulled her in for another hug. She shook Delani as she hugged her, squeezing the petite woman tightly as though she were trying to absorb her into her body. When Hawke finally set Delani back onto her feet there were actual tears in her eyes, but she blinked and they were gone. She cleared her throat again and this time Cullen understood why. Hawke was actually getting choked up about her departure, it was endearing to see that she and Delani had formed such a bond in such a short time.

"Do try not to get yourself killed while you're saving the lot of us, alright?" She gave Delani a stern look, the request a serious one even if her tone was jesting. When Delani nodded that she would try, Hawke waved them goodbye and left them to stand in the garden and watch her leave.

A long and weighty sigh expelled from Delani before she sat back down in her seat and returned to her reports. Cullen found his way back to his seat and, once he was settled in, took a few seconds to watch as Delani sifted through the papers littering the table top. If she and Hawke had become so close then surely the topic of the mage rebellion in Kirkwall would have come up in conversation between them. Though Delani had chosen to ally with the Templar order, Cullen still did not know exactly where Delani stood on the subject of mages and Templars, or if she had an opinion at all.

Deciding to find out, he observed, "You and Hawke have grown rather close."

A morose smile hinted at the corner of her mouth. "We have," she confirmed, her attention still on the reports in her hand. Briefly glancing up at Cullen, Delani stated, "Her sadness calls to me. I see a lot of myself in her."

Cullen agreed that they had their similarities, but Delani and Hawke were far from the same women. Still, he wanted to see how far their like-mindedness went. "Have you two spoken about the events at Kirkwall?"

"Yes," she replied, her attention on the parchment in her hands. "Not at length, but we breached the topic."

"So you know that she supported the mage rebellion."

His words pulled her gaze back to him. The look she gave him was measured, cautious, curious. Auburn eyebrows furrowing, she slowly observed, "Everyone knows that." before correcting both her statement and his own. "And Bella supported mage freedoms, not rebellion."

Shrugging, she muttered, "It just so happened that a rebellion was the only way she could help mages get those freedoms."

Cullen's expression flattened, his tone was cautious when he asked, "So, you agree with her?"

Her answer wouldn't change anything, not how he felt about her, and not how much he respected and admired her. He just wanted to know what her stance was on the subject out of curiosity. Delani was an intelligent, reasonable, and thoughtful woman. Her opinions were always based off of facts and personal experience. Whatever her answer was, it had been formed after heavy thought, and all factors considered, and he would respect it.

"Yes and no," she supplied, an apologetic smile on her lips at giving him such an indecisive answer.

Delani set down the papers in her hands in a gesture that proclaimed that she would not be picking them back up for the rest of the afternoon. Folding her arms on the table in front of her, she wove her fingers together and sighed through her nose as she considered how best to explain her meaning. After a moment of thought she tried to help him understand.

"I support mage freedoms in the sense that mages are people too," she started, her tone neutral and calm. "They deserve to live their lives without having their most basic rights stolen from them. They deserve to live without being persecuted just for the fact that they are different. They deserve to know that they don't have to fear others so that they may also learn that they don't need to fear themselves."

Sighing, Delani's tone changed as she moved on to the 'no' part of her earlier answer. "It isn't only mages that can fall prey to demons, though they might be more susceptible. I do think that the Templar order and their supervision is necessary."

Delani paused, frustration clear in her eyes. Cullen could tell that she had a lot to say on the topic, but she didn't know how to give voice to those thoughts, she didn't know how to articulate her feelings in a way that would make him understand. Clenching her jaw, she sucked in a deep breath before trying again to explain her meaning.

"Mages are people, and they should be treated as such, but they can also be dangerous and that shouldn't be forgotten." Holding Cullen's gaze, he could tell by the look in her eyes just how badly she wanted him to understand what she was saying. "I believe that Templars and the Circles were necessary, but I also believe that the Chantry failed both its wards and its charges."

"The Chantry is supposed to be taking care of its people, not enslaving and imprisoning them." She shook her head, cutting herself off before she could get off topic. "What I mean to say is that the original idea behind the Circle had its merits. The Circle was a place for mages to learn how to control their powers and how to use them. They were given an education, food in their bellies, a warm place to rest their heads, and they were safe from both outside threats and inside threats."

"The Circle should have been a sanctuary instead of a prison. It should have been a safe place for all mages to turn to if they ever made the decision to do so." Beautiful facial features hardening with resoluteness, Delani continued, "It should have perpetuated understanding and acceptance instead of vilifying its occupants."

Holding Cullen's gaze, Delani said in a stern and unbending tone, "The Circle, the Chantry, and the Templars, they all needed to change. Though I do not exactly approve of the Chantry explosion that forced the rebellion, I do agree that if drastic measures hadn't been taken the issue wouldn't have been addressed for years to come."

Cullen gaped at Delani for a moment, taking in her words and the passion with which she had spoken them. Delani's ideals on the matter weren't so different from his own. She believed in reforming the system that was already in place, fixing the mistakes they'd made, improving the areas where the Chantry and the Order had failed.

She believed in acceptance and understanding. Delani wanted equality for all, and she felt as though she were in a position to make it possible. His chest burned with an admiration and respect that he would never be able to find the words to articulate. She was a woman beyond compare, and how she managed to so easily take his breath away was incomprehensible. Her presence alone made Cullen want to be a better man, to strive for the world that she saw so clearly in her mind's eye. She was awe inspiring.

Still holding his gaze, her bronzy cheeks started to adopt a rosy color. Her eyes began to flutter and she bit into her lip, and Cullen realized that she was blushing nervously. Tucking her hair behind her long pointed ear, she asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because you're beautiful," he answered breathlessly. Cullen blinked a few times but was still unable to shake the spell that she had just cast upon him. Absently he stated, "Maker's breath, you are _so_ beautiful."

The flush to Delani's cheeks deepened and a large grin stretched over her lovely lips, which she attempted to hide behind her slender fingers. "Yes, well," she cleared her throat, still fighting off the smile that persisted on her lips, before she returned, "so are you."

Cullen chuckled at her retort, finding her reaction to his words utterly adorable. Just then he knew what he would call her. After everything that they had discussed in their time in the garden, he knew what would be the perfect endearment for his beautiful Dalish huntress. He just didn't have the words for it yet.

Motivated by excitement, Cullen started to gather his papers, feeling the weight of Delani's confused gaze on him as he organized his belongings. "I just remembered something that I have to do," he said by way of explanation, hoping that the excuse would stick long enough for him to leave the garden.

Once his papers were piled together, Cullen stood from his seat and said, "I have to speak with Solas," before pressing a kiss to the top of Delani's head and walking away from the table.

She turned in her seat to watch him go, "Do you want me to accompany you?" She wondered, obviously unsure about whatever it was that had just happened.

Cullen threw a curt, "No," over his shoulder before amending his tone with a gentle reassurance, "I'll see you tonight," and hurried for the rotunda.

* * *

Darkness was inching its way across the sky, nearly victorious in its invasion, it wouldn't be much longer now until night prevailed. Delani was perched on the ledge on the battlements, where Bella had hung out when they weren't searching for answers from the Grey Wardens. Her carving knife was out, digging the shape of a halla into the block of wood in her hand.

The tavern was alive tonight, songs leaking through its windows and the doors as they opened. She'd chosen her hiding spot because she wanted to feel the warmth of the people singing and laughing in the tavern, while also staying separate from them. Delani was content to just bask in the energy permeating from Skyhold, instead of participating in it herself.

Concentrating on her project, Delani tried to gently guide her carving knife as she worked on the halla's horns. The horns were always the hardest part. They were thin and curved so intricately. If she carved the wood too thin and put too much pressure in her movements, she was likely to ruin the whole thing. This one wasn't a toy for the children, though if she did end up ruining it, it would certainly end up with the other figures to be used as prizes. The halla was going to be a gift to Cullen, and she hoped that he liked it.

Her heart warmed at the thought of him, at the memory of his smile and the warmth of his golden eyes. He had surprised her today. His interest in learning Elvish had caught her so completely off guard, she'd had to make sure that he wasn't joking before starting the lesson. The fact that he wanted to know more about her people, that he cared enough to want to learn to speak her native tongue, there was no way that he could know how much it meant to her.

Delani wasn't so good with words, neither in her tongue nor in his, but she wanted to show Cullen how much his interest in her people meant to her. He'd promised to meet her tonight, and she wanted to have the halla finished before then. After he explained to her why he had run off so abruptly in the garden she would give the figure to him and tell him how much she appreciated both him and the gesture.

When the horns where just about as good as they were going to get, Delani used her carving knife to smooth out the sharp edges she'd missed before. The thing needed to be sanded down, but a part of her liked how rough it looked. Halla were beautiful and majestic creatures. They were intelligent, loving, and dear friends to the _Elvhen_, but they were also wild, they were fierce protectors of their herds and their young. Delani felt that the sharp edges better represented the halla's beauty and wildness.

At the sound of footsteps approaching her, Delani returned her carving knife to its sheath at her belt, and tucked the figuring into the pouch strapped to her side. She knew who it was by the weight of his footfalls and the militant measurements of his strides. Without turning to face her visitor, she struggled to keep the smile from taking her lips.

"You did not make yourself easy to find, Delani," Cullen stated, leaning his elbows on the ledge that she was seated on. Giving her a sidelong glance he wondered, "Is everything alright?"

She looked over her shoulder at him, the smile she'd been fighting back breaking through to the surface. Nodding, she assured him, "Everything is fine," before returning his question. "How about you? Did you get what you needed from Solas?"

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, abashment in his features as he replied, "I did."

Curious, Delani inched backwards until she was back on her feet on the battlements. She turned to face Cullen, an eyebrow arched. "And?" she investigated, not liking being left in the dark as to what his whole escape had been about. "It must have been tremendously important for you to just abandon me to my paperwork."

Chuckle rumbling through him, Cullen closed the distance remaining between them and took Delani into his strong arms. She grabbed the front of his cloak and stared up at his handsome face. "My lady," he gasped, playfulness radiating from him. "I would _never_ abandon you."

She made a disagreeing sound and Cullen replied by pressing his lips to hers. A moan escaped her, unbidden. His lips just felt so damn good against hers, she couldn't help it. Her body reacted to him before she could think. He made her senseless and Delani loved it.

The kiss was a short one, a brief moment of affection brought on by the warmth of their proximity. Cullen brushed his fingers through her auburn hair and tilted her face up so that he could stare down at her with his lovely amber eyes. After his moment of admiration had passed, Cullen released a long breath and allowed a warm smile to spread over his lips.

"I needed to ask Solas a question," Cullen admitted, his expression turning uncertain.

Furrowing her eyebrows incredulously, Delani asked, "You ran off like decapitated chicken because you had to ask Solas a question?" When he nodded, she moved on her next question, "What was it?"

"I needed him to translate something into Elvish for me."

Delani couldn't fight the part of her that was insulted that he'd gone to Solas for a translation when she had been sitting directly beside him. She had been the one teaching him, why had he turned to Solas? Did he not like her method of teaching?

Unable to suppress the bite to her tone, she asked, "Am I that terrible of a teacher?"

"Not at all," he assured her, cupping her face in his hands and brushing a quick kiss on her brow. When Cullen met her gaze again it was with the explanation, "I just wanted to surprise you."

She stood there in silence, waiting for him to show her the surprise. The smile on Cullen's lips turned nervous, and suddenly he looked self-conscious. Clearing his throat, Cullen took a deep breath before saying, "I know that you wanted me to call you by your name, but I wanted you to know how much you mean to me."

Searching her face, Cullen breathlessly assured her, "Because you mean the world to me, _ma atishan_."

Her heart leapt into her throat, and Delani's fists tightened on the front of Cullen's cloak. _Ma atishan_ meant 'my safe place'. Is that what he thought of her? Did Cullen truly consider her to be his place of safety, of tranquility, did he consider her to be his peaceful reprieve? She could do little more than just stare up at him, her eyes wide with surprise, her mouth slightly ajar as language escaped her.

The nervousness grew in his eyes when Delani took too long to reply. She blinked away her surprise, reaffirming herself in the conversation. She shook her head and released her hold on the fur of Cullen's mantel. When she moved to take a step back, confusion spread over his handsome features but he let her go without argument.

Delani reached into the pouch at her side and retrieved the halla she'd hidden there. When she tugged it free, she held it out to Cullen in offering and waited until he took it from her before she spoke. She watched him inspect the figure, admiring how the smallest smile hinted at the edges of his lips.

"I wanted to do something to show you how much it means to me that you want to learn my language, how much it means to me that you care about every part of who I am."

Reclaiming the space she'd placed between them, Delani watched as the smile that had been lingering under the surface of his mouth finally unraveled across his lips. Cullen looked up from the halla to meet her gaze and she finished, "It means the world to me, _vhenan'ara_, _you_ mean the world to me."

Carefully tucking the halla into the pocket on the inside of his cloak, Cullen pulled Delani back into his arms and forcefully pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was wet and vigorous, needy and filled with a passion that Delani had always known to lie dormant just under his surface. Cullen's heat consumed her, his smell was in her lungs, his sweet taste stinging her mouth.

Burying her fingers in his thick blond hair, Delani leaned her body into his, losing herself to the kiss. He was her safe place just as much as she was his. She had never cared for someone as she did for him. Cullen was strong, he was protective, he was caring and compassionate. As impossible as it seemed, he had affections for _her_, and Delani would never know what she'd done to deserve him.

When he released her from his lips, Delani whined in protest and he laughed at her reaction. "Come," he said, tugging her toward the steps that would lead them off of the battlements. "I promised Dorian that we would join him and Bull at the tavern."

Delani allowed herself to be dragged toward the steps. "Now why did you go and do that?" She pouted. "I wanted to spend the rest of the night kissing you."

Another laugh rumbled from Cullen and he grinned at her, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes as he smiled. "The night is young, _ma atishan_, you may still have your chance."

A warmth spread through her at the sound of his endearment. She loved the way he spoke Elvish, how awkwardly the words sat in his mouth, how passionately he wanted to say them anyway. Cullen was a man like no other, and if he promised that there would be time later, Delani would spend it showing him how much she appreciated him.

Smiling, Delani replied, "I damn well better." before tucking herself into the shield of his body.


	13. Chapter 13

Fury racked through her body like currents of a malicious tempest, heated gusts of anger and disbelief tearing her apart limb by limb. Her teeth ached from how hard she was grinding them, her nails were breaking skin and drawing blood from the tightness of her fists. Every breath was deep, desperate, grasping for patience and peace. Delani was beyond words, beyond language, incensed beyond comprehension, and it took everything she had in her to not take a swing at Sera's smug face.

She and the other elf woman had trouble getting along from the start. Much like Solas at the beginning, Sera did not approve of Delani's Dalish heritage. Unlike Solas, Sera had not made any attempts to try to understand Delani or her people. Sera was strong minded and stubborn, traits that Delani typically found endearing, but Sera's stubbornness blinded her to the reality of the Dalish struggle.

When it came to the topic of elves, and being an elf, Delani mostly avoided the conversation. She knew that any talk of the Dalish people would escalate into an argument. And it had. Delani had come to the tavern to converse with her companions, to check in with everyone and make sure that they were all doing fine. She hadn't intended to linger about in Sera's personal nook, but the other woman had inquired about Cullen learning Elvish.

The look of disapproval in Sera's eyes had been irksome from the start, but Delani hadn't pursued her annoyance. Instead, she'd confirmed that, yes, Cullen was in fact learning Elvish, and tried to end the conversation at that. However, Sera did not let it go.

Their conversation had evolved from why Cullen would even bother, to how the Dalish thought they were superior to all other elves, and then onto how they needed to get over their past and stop pouting like a 'bunch of piss-babies'. Every time Delani would try to leave the conversation, she would get sucked right back in, getting more and more heated each time. Already, it was all she could do to keep from jumping the other woman and beating her face into the back of her head.

"A victim will always be a victim, yeah?" Sera stated, raising her chin with indignation. Her green eyes flashed in provocation, and Delani knew that the other woman was goading her, pushing her, prodding her until she reacted. "Easy to cry about it, harder to do something, innit?"

Delani shook her hands at her sides, loosening her fists before she sent them flying. Sera was entitled to her opinion, she tried to remind herself, even if it was wrong. Taking several deep breaths, Delani didn't tear her gaze from Sera's as she tried to calm herself back down. Her efforts were for naught. It didn't matter how many deep breaths she took, or how many calming thoughts she forced, Delani's anger would not be abated. Pretending that Sera's words didn't bother her was no longer a sound strategy, silence was no longer her weapon. Delani wanted to fight back, and she couldn't stop herself once she started.

"You don't like the Dalish people, Sera? That's fine, you don't have to." Delani bit out, fighting for control of the decibel and tone of her voice. It would be easy to scream at Sera, to verbally rip her apart, but that would only make her feel justified in her thoughts of the Dalish people.

She took a half step toward the other woman before she stopped herself. For Sera's own sake Delani had to maintain distance between them. Proximity would make it easier for her to attack, and once Delani got started she would not stop.

"But do _not_ pretend for one second that you understand the struggle that my people go through."

Sera scoffed and Delani's blood boiled. "Because they want to. Because it's easier."

"Easier?" Delani repeated incredulously before exclaiming, "_Easier_?" Outraged, Delani forced herself to take a step backwards, ignoring the part of her that demanded that she launch herself at Sera and force the other woman to eat her words.

"Explain to me what is _easy_ about whole clans being decimated by bandits?" She did take a step forward then, her words pushing her from where she'd pinned herself to the wall. Her anger was a dangerous thing, and Delani fought with herself to suppress it. She was losing. "Explain to me what is _easy_ about those bandits raping women and children? Explain to me what is _easy_ about slavers coming in the middle of the night, tearing caravans apart, and selling the survivors into slavery?"

Already she was standing in front of Sera, her body posed for the attack, her chest rapidly rising and falling with the intensity of her fury. Delani didn't reach for Sera, she maintained her fists at her sides, struggling with what little self-control she had left. Her voice was low, even as it shook with the ferocity of her emotions.

"What is _easy_ about listening to your family, your _clan_ scream as they are massacred? Watching the only home you've ever known and all of your belongings burn as humans laugh? Having your ears sawed off of your head and being strung into a necklace to be worn by the monsters who have destroyed everything you love and taken everything you have?

"Tell me, Sera!" she eventually shouted, her anger getting the best of her, her voice trembling with outrage that would either come out as violence or tears. Lip curling into a snarl, Delani demanded, "What is _easy_ about _any_ of that?"

Just when she thought that she would not be able to restrain herself for a moment longer, the soft sound of a young man's voice calmed the storm raging inside of her. "Realization dawns like dew turned to frost," said Cole in that trance like voice of his. "_They're not coming, are they?_ Dread and anger blacken what was once hope. _No, da'mi, Falon'din guides them now_."

Cole blinked and he was out of her mind, back in his body so that he could assess what he had seen. "Their suffering makes you feel helpless, but you aren't helpless." The sickly looking lad gave her a soft, encouraging smile. "You are strong, you can help them now."

"Thank you, Cole," Delani said with a sigh. He had pulled her from the edge, kept her from submitting her to her blinding rage. She no longer felt like she was going to wring Sera's neck at any second. She still _wanted_ to, but now it was an urge she could suppress. With a forced smile of her own she assured him, "I feel better now, _lethallin_, you can leave us."

Nodding once, Cole disappeared from the doorway, leaving Delani and Sera alone once again.

When Delani returned her attention to Sera, the other woman's gaze was on the empty doorway and she muttered, "Creepy."

Delani wiped a hand down her face and took a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Sera. The other woman preferred ignorance over understanding. Cooly regarding her, Delani stated, "I don't claim that the Dalish are perfect. We have our faults, and we have our problems. And some of those would disappear if we simply accepted the way things are and adapted."

The look on Sera's face turned victorious, as though Delani were admitting defeat, which was the opposite of what she was doing. Delani had to suck in another deep breath in order to maintain her veneer of calm. "We may be too stubborn and too proud to ever admit that we get things wrong, but the Dalish don't have a Red Jenny." Sera's eyes hardened and Delani felt as if, _finally_, she had struck a cord. She pursued the line of thought, hoping that maybe she would get through to the other woman.

"When my people are cheated, bullied, taken advantage of, and killed in their beds there is no one for them to turn to, there is _no one_ to defend them." Raising her chin, she finished, "Hate the Dalish if you want, but know that hating them doesn't make you better than them. It just makes you a part of the problem." and left Sera alone in her nook.

Delani knew that nothing she'd said would stay with Sera. She'd just wasted her breath, and had gotten all worked up over nothing. If anything came from that confrontation it would be that, hopefully, next time that Sera broached the topic of elves it would be with a little more caution. It wasn't much, but Delani would take what she could get when it came to Sera.

She left the tavern in a rush, desperate for the cool mountain air on her cheeks. Once she stepped outside, she sucked in a deep breath and tried to banish what remained of her anger toward Sera. Delani didn't want to dislike the other elf. The fact of the matter was that Delani actually admired her in a way. Sera was strong willed, she cared for people, and she wanted to help them. Sera was talented with a bow, and had this goofy laugh that pulled a smile from anyone within hearing distance.

But Delani just couldn't do it. She couldn't force herself to like Sera. She could work beside her, sure, help her with her 'friends', no problem, but _like _her; she had tried, and she had failed. It honestly bothered Delani that she and the other woman couldn't get along. They shared many of the same ideals. Help people who couldn't help themselves, and put people who took advantage of others in their place. On paper they should have been fast friends, in practice they were at each other's throats more often than not.

Nothing she had said to Sera was a lie. The Dalish people played the 'what we once had was taken from us' card like it was the only one in the deck, but that did not mean that they were victimizing themselves. Dalish clans were attacked, they were ransacked, the people were executed or sold off into slavery, their goods stolen or set aflame. These were not acts from the past, these were crimes being currently committed against her people. Clan Lavellan hadn't experienced such threats to that severity, but word spread among Dalish clans, and every ten years the _Arlathvhen_ was smaller than it had been the decade prior. And no one gave a damn. Now that she was Inquisitor that was about to change.

With a shake of her head, she put those thoughts on the back burner. There were many things that would change with her being Inquisitor, most of them were out of her control. The plight of the Dalish, along with many other things, would have to wait to be addressed at another time. For now, Delani just wanted to enjoy the day before she was off to clean up someone else's mess again.

Combing her fingers through her auburn hair, Delani strode toward the main hall. There was something that she needed to discuss with Solas in regards to what he knew of the Beyond. She had spoken to him many times already about the topic but, some nights, nightmares of their time there disturbed her slumber, and she thought that if she understood it better she would have less cause to fear it.

As soon as she stepped foot into the main hall her attention was drawn to Varric. The look in his eyes was of warning. He was alerting her to a coming threat. Delani's brows furrowed and she looked around the hall. She scanned the room from the far wall all the way down and found that there was nothing out of the ordinary. But she trusted the dwarf with her life. If he thought there was danger that's because there was.

When an accented voice called for her, "Inquisitor, a moment," Delani immediately understood what Varric's warning had been about.

Delani noticed Mother Giselle coming her way and sighed through her nose. Glancing back at Varric, she narrowed her eyes and he shrugged in reply. He had tried to warn her, it wasn't his fault that she'd failed to react to the warning in time to escape Mother Giselle.

As her elder and a woman of faith, Delani respected Mother Giselle, it was just how she was raised to be. But sometimes the holy woman had a tendency of being on the overbearing side. She was a pious woman who sometimes stepped on the toes of the people she cared for. Delani liked the woman, had a soft spot for her even, but she was no Andrastian and that was not about to change no matter how often Mother Giselle tried.

"What can I do for you, Mother Giselle?" Delani wondered, placing her hands on her hips and releasing a long sigh through her nose. She hoped that this would be a quick conversation. The topic of Delani's immortal soul was not one that she wanted to discuss at the moment.

Mother Giselle stood in front of Delani with her back straight and shoulders set, but she was wringing her hands and Delani could tell that she wanted to discuss something uncomfortable. "That Tevinter mage friend of yours—"

She quirked an eyebrow in warning. It had not taken long for Delani to warm up to Dorian. He _was_ her friend, and she would not listen to anyone talk about him as though he were a thing and not a person. "His name is Dorian," she reminded the Mother, allowing some bite into her voice. Only enough to get her message across.

When she noticed Mother Giselle recognize the warning, Delani softened her tone and wondered, "What about him?"

"I've been in correspondence with his parents, and they would like to arrange a meeting." Mother Giselle informed her, her tone cautious as though she suspected that Delani wouldn't approve of the communication. "I need your help."

Delani's brows shot toward her hairline with surprise. From what she'd learned from Dorian about Tevinter, she was surprised that his parents would reach out to someone of the 'backwater' Ferelden Chantry. Even more surprising was that they wanted to speak to Dorian. He hadn't divulged much to her about his relationship with his parents, but what he had shared made it clear that they did not part on good terms. Delani suspected a trap, but there was a chance that his parents were reaching out to apologize. She needed details and only mother Giselle had those.

"Tell me everything," instructed Delani, crossing her arms in front of her chest and taking a step closer to the Mother. She would decide her next step _after_ Mother Giselle filled her in.

* * *

Cullen's belly ached from how hard he was laughing. His face was buried in the crook of his arm on his desk. His fist hammering its surface as amusement shook his body. Dorian was seated on the edge of his desk beside him, his accompanying laughter almost as humorous as the story he was telling.

Fighting back chuckles, Dorian coughed in attempt to clear his throat and calm himself down enough to finish his story. "I'm telling you, Commander," there was still a laugh in his voice, straining to keep amusement from choking him completely. "The entire estate smelled like a cheap Antivan whore house for a month after that. Mother was furious." He changed his voice to a falsetto to mock his mother's outrage. "_Do you have any idea how long these rugs have been in our family, Dorian,_ she'd said, _And now they're stained with wine and Maker knows what else!_ The Templars rescinded all invitations from then on out."

He leaned back in his seat, the last of his laughter bubbling out of him as Cullen wiped the tears from his eyes. Taking several deep breaths in attempt to calm himself back down, the grin on his lips would not ebb even when his laughter started to subside. There was a reason he allowed Dorian to drop in unannounced and distract him from his work, and it was more than the fact that he told a good story. Dorian was his friend, one of the closest ones he'd made in a very long time.

With a shake of his head, Cullen replied, "I cannot imagine why."

Dorian shrugged before admitting, "Neither can I." The smile on his face was shameless, his strange grey eyes sparkling with amusement. "_I_ thought we were having a grand time."

"Debauchery's not for everyone, I suppose," Cullen countered, scratching the coarse stubble covering his chin.

The other man grinned impishly before raising a challenging eyebrow and commenting, "Debauchery is how you stay young, my friend. You should try it some time, it might do you some good."

He shook his head again, a soft chuckle sounding from him as Cullen respectfully declined Dorian's less-than-sound advice. "Somehow I doubt that."

"You never know until you try," Dorian jestingly insisted.

Smiling up at Dorian, Cullen carelessly shrugged and rebuked, "Then I suppose I will never know."

A defeated sigh sounded from Dorian as he shook his head in disappointment. Carefully making sure that his perfectly styled hair was still in place, he stated, "Fine, be a stick in the mud for the rest of your days. See if I care." Turning a playfully pointed glare onto Cullen, his eyes narrowed and he cautioned, "But when your skin starts pruning up like an old leather boot, don't come crying to me."

Before Cullen could make a poorly put together comeback the door to his office opened, pulling them both from their conversation. A smile immediately unearthed on his face at the sight of Delani entering his office, but quickly fell away at the sight of her serious expression.

"Delani," he started, momentarily forgetting that they had an audience, and that with propriety came titles. "Is everything alright?"

She nodded reassuringly at Cullen before moving her attention to Dorian. Stepping deeper into Cullen's office, she approached the mage with uncertainty in her sea green eyes. There was a piece of parchment rolled up in her hands, but Dorian had yet to notice the tension in her features.

"Ah, Lady Inquisitor." He greeted her with a happy grin. "I was wondering when you would show up." Giving Cullen a quick glance he commented, "Like a moth to a flame."

Only when she didn't reply with a grin or a witty retort did Dorian take notice of her atypical behavior. His smile started to fall, the shine in his eyes dimming with weariness. Delani closed the gap remaining between them and stood in front of Cullen's desk.

"Dorian," she started, her voice gentle, unusually so. "There's a letter that you need to see."

"A letter!" Dorian replied, trying to bring back the levity that had fled the room with Delani's arrival. Quirking an eyebrow, he playfully wondered, "Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?"

Delani glanced at Cullen and was met by his confusion. Something was wrong and it pertained to Dorian, but she was reluctant to reveal what it was. She blinked and her gaze was returned to the mage. "Not quite," she sighed in reply to his joking inquiry. Biting her bottom lip she took a deep breath before explaining, "It's from your father."

The change in Dorian was instantaneous. His back stiffened, the color drained from his face, all jokes were thrown aside and the man looked as though a reaper were standing in Delani's place. "My father," he said softly, dread in the undercurrents of his tone. "I see."

Crossing his arms defiantly in front of his chest, Dorian raised a displeased eyebrow before begrudgingly investigating, "And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?"

She glanced down at the letter rolled up in her hand before she answered, "A meeting."

When Dorian curtly instructed her to, "Show me this letter," Delani handed it over without argument.

He took the letter from her grasp and unrolled the parchment. Moving from behind Cullen's desk, Dorian paced to the far side of the room, quiet as he read the words. Cullen's attention moved from Dorian to Delani and, wordlessly, he asked what this was all about.

She must have understood the question in his eyes, because she rounded his desk and stood beside him. When she shook her head it was to relay that she couldn't say what it was about, but if he only waited he would soon find out. So Cullen sought Dorian out at the other side of the room and read the man's facial features. They were hard, tense, miffed even. The tension in his fingers was wrinkling the parchment in his hands. Whatever was scribed on that paper was not to Dorian's liking and Cullen found himself worried for his friend.

Once he was done reading, Dorian turned sharply to face them again. He was gripping the letter tightly, angrily. Brows furrowed with distaste, he growled, "_I know my son_." repeating what Cullen assumed to be a line from the letter.

Incredulously, Dorian spat, "What my father knows of me could barely fill a thimble." Shaking his head in annoyance, he grumbled, "This is so typical."

He began to pace the length of the room again, his annoyance and anger growing with each footfall. Gesturing with his hands as he spoke, Dorian exclaimed, "He hired a retainer! And I'm willing to bet that he's a henchman. Here to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter."

Cullen watched as Dorian paced, worry filling his gut. He and Dorian only breached the topic of home briefly, it was one that the mage was not comfortable discussing. From what Cullen knew, Dorian and his father had had words and Dorian had come to Ferelden shortly after. That was all that Dorian had divulged, and Cullen hadn't thought it right to pursue the topic. Now, a part of him wished that he had. What had happened to Dorian and his father to cause such a rift to grow between them?

Suddenly Dorian stopped pacing. He crushed the parchment in his fist, an angry breath wheezing out of him as determination filled his features and squared his shoulders. Without looking up from his tightly curled fingers, he growled, "Let's go." He did look up at them then, his grey eyes dark with anger, but Cullen could see the trepidation hiding in those stormy eyes as well. "Let's go meet this _family retainer_."

Her voice pulled his gaze from Dorian. "If that's what you want, Dorian." The set of Delani's features was strange, uncertain but committed, worried but unyielding, supportive but detached. It was obvious that she approved of Dorian's decision to seek out this retainer, what was less obvious was why.

"I'm following your lead on this one," she assured him. "He's your father, whether or not we do this is your decision."

Dorian nodded once. "If it's a trap we escape and kill everyone." He gave Delani an approving once over. "You're good at that. If it's not I'll send the man back to my father with a message that he can stick his alarm in his 'wit's end'."

Not pushing the topic any further, Delani nodded curtly and instructed Dorian to, "Tell Iron Bull and Varric that we're heading out. You have an hour to prepare. I'll meet you at the gates when it's time."

"Let's see what comes of this," Dorian said before leaving Cullen's office to let the others know that they were heading out in an hour.

The door slammed shut behind Dorian, leaving Delani and Cullen alone in his office. There was still a tension in the room, a tension that should have left on Dorian's coattail. Looking up at Delani it was easy to see that she was the one radiating the discomfort bogging down the room. For a moment all Cullen did was look at her. She was beautiful, even tense as she was, but this trouble with Dorian had stirred up something inside of her, and that discomfort was creasing her lovely features.

"Delani—"

"My father died," she interrupted him, cutting straight through whatever conversation would lead up to her admission. Delani probably knew what he would ask, she probably knew that he was curious about why she appeared to care so much about this.

She wasn't looking at him, her attention was on the door that Dorian had just exited from. Tapping her fingers on his desk, Delani closed her eyes and shook her head, clearing her mind before she met Cullen's gaze. When her sea green eyes held his, Cullen could see the pain hidden in those bright and bottomless gems. This was why she didn't speak of her father, the topic was one that caused her pain.

"_Ma atishan_," Cullen whispered, the practiced words still felt strange in his mouth. Pushing himself up from his chair so that he was standing behind Delani, he brushed a kiss on her shoulder and breathed her in. Their differences in size had always been endearing to him, now he hoped that she might take comfort in it as well. He hoped that being embraced by his larger frame would allow her to borrow some of his strength, make her feel protected and safe.

Delani turned to face him, resting her bottom on the edge of his desk. She grabbed him by the front of his cloak and pulled him near to her. Cullen encircled his arms around her, holding her closely while giving himself enough space to see the tormented expression on her face. He had been wanting to ask her about her father for so long, but Delani met the topic with such indomitable resistance that he thought it best to let it come out naturally.

The time had finally come, and Cullen was more than willing to listen to everything that she was willing to share. He wanted to know this part of her, he wanted to know every part of her, and he would be a fool if he didn't think that Delani's father hadn't played a very large role in who she was as a person.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Delani focused on a spot on Cullen's chest as she spoke, unable to meet his gaze for whatever reason. "I was seventeen," she started, her voice was soft, barely a decibel higher than a whisper. "We were out on a hunt. We would play this game," she said with a nostalgic laugh. Delani did look up at Cullen then, a reluctant smile on her lips and misery in her misty eyes. "Who ever took down the biggest kill would get to request the first story from _Hahren_ Niveen."

She sniffed away her emotions, shook her head, and coughed out another poignant laugh. "We had played the game ever since I was a little girl, we weren't going to stop just because I was an adult." Her grip on his cloak tightened and Delani held his gaze for a moment.

Cullen clenched his jaw at the sight of sadness filling her beautiful green eyes, eyes that were typically filled with laughter and delight. He wanted to take this pain from her, wanted to erase whatever terrible thing happened that burdened her so terribly. Delani had a soul too lovely for such dark emotions, if he could bear the weight of them in her place he would have in a heartbeat. Instead, all he could do was hold her while she shared her story.

"The buck I'd spotted was larger than the one you and I hunted before," she said, reminding him of when she'd demanded he accompany her on a hunt. Worry for her clan had burdened her that day, today something else was troubling her, and memories sometimes wielded sharper teeth than worry ever could.

Returning her attention to his breastplate, Delani continued, "I slowed the buck down with throwing knives until I was finally able to get in for the kill. When my father came to help me get the buck back to camp I'd teased him relentlessly." The smile on her lips was forced, filled with self-loathing, and Cullen hated it. "_You're losing your touch, old man,_ I'd said to him, _does mother know that you are half the hunter I am?" _

"You were having fun," Cullen reasoned. She couldn't hate herself for enjoying time with her father. Poor sportsmanship was hardly reason enough for the level of self-hatred permeating from her. "There's no harm in that."

"I was distracted," she snapped in return. Her eyes sharpened, her lips thinned, anger filled her expression and it was directed at herself. "I should have spent less time showboating and more time paying attention to my surroundings. If I'd been paying closer attention I would have seen that the stag had taken us into a dragon's territory. If I'd spent less time teasing my father I would have known that we were also being hunted."

He didn't reply. He couldn't. What could Cullen say to that? She'd been seventeen at the time, a young woman just out of adolescence. It made sense for her to be a cocky, arrogant brat. Most teenagers were. Surely she couldn't blame her father's death on her own adolescent snark.

Testing the fabric of his cloak between her fingers, Delani focused her gaze on the mannerism as she spoke. Her voice was level, distant, as though she were no longer with him but back in that place in her past that had hurt her so terribly. "I didn't notice the drake behind me until I saw the horror on my father's face. When I turned to face it I tripped on a root and, before the drake could devour me, my father started to shoot it with arrows."

"Sixteen arrows he unleashed into that drake, and not one missed its mark," she said as though the fact was one that still amazed her to this day. Shaking her head, Delani continued, "It wasn't enough to kill the drake, it wasn't even enough to slow him down. Instead of killing me, the drake went after my father." The color drained from her face, her eyes widened as she recalled the event. Horror filled Delani's face and all Cullen could do was watch as old demons clawed their way back to the surface.

Delani breathlessly whispered, "I can still hear his screams."

Not knowing what else to do, Cullen closed his arms around her and pulled Delani into his chest. He crushed her against him, squeezed her so tightly she would have no room to doubt that he would protect her from anything, be it a drake or this terrible memory. Kissing the top of her head, Cullen murmured against her hair, "Come back to me, _ma atishan_. Be here with me."

He could feel her trembling in his grasp, could hear her sniffing back her tears. After a moment she cleared her throat, set her shoulders, and pushed herself from Cullen's chest until there was space between them again. Her voice betrayed her when she next spoke, breaking at the beginning of her sentence before she cleared the emotion from her throat again.

"I don't remember how I killed the drake," she said. "One moment I was on the forest floor, watching, paralyzed in place as the beast devoured my father. The next moment I was on the drake's back, cutting my daggers into its neck until its head fell off."

When Delani met his gaze again he could see the tears back in her eyes, could easily recognize the loathing with which she regarded herself. She clasped her eyes tightly shut, but not before a stream of tears ran down her cheeks. Cullen cupped her face in his hands and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe her tears away. Gently he said, "You can't possibly blame yourself for your father's death."

Her eyes ripped open and she was glaring at him, angry that he would dare to argue her guilt in the matter. Tearing his hands from her face she growled, "Of course I can. Who else is to blame?"

Shaking his head in exasperation, Cullen supplied, "The drake, misfortune, fate?" When Delani started to shake her head, he gently gripped her by the chin and forced her to meet his gaze. "The situation was out of your control. You were young—"

"I was a hunter," she corrected as though that automatically locked her guilt into place.

"You were a _girl_," Cullen insisted, unwilling to hear anything to the contrary. "You were a girl who was at the wrong place at the wrong time and a wild animal, that you could have never anticipated, attacked you and your father. Your father died defending you, Delani, he _didn't_ die _because_ of you."

She was unwilling to listen. Stubborn as always, she would not be swayed. For years she had blamed herself for her father's death, still she thought she was at fault. He wouldn't be able to convince her that she was blameless, that it was just an unavoidable accident, the hand that life had dealt her. The only person that would ever help her come to terms with the events was herself and, after a decade, she still wasn't ready to accept that her father was gone and it wasn't her fault.

"It was because of me," she said, a sob in her voice. Delani pressed her head to his chest and her body shook as she cried.

Cullen wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. There was little more that he could do. All he could do was press her to him and hope that she would absorb his strength as her own. He had seen Delani laugh, but he had never witnessed her cry. Seeing her now, like this, broke his heart in two. How could a woman so brave, so strong, so empowered go so long believing that she could have changed the outcome of fate, that it was her fault that life was cruel and death was constant.

Whispering calming nothings into her ear, Cullen held onto Delani until her body stopped trembling, until she'd won over her emotions again. He knew that this was part of the problem. Delani didn't allow herself to feel her pain, she didn't allow herself to endure her suffering. She bottled it up, stored it away, and buried it deep inside. Now that she had to address this old buried box of anger and self-loathing, she was overcome by emotions that she should have already dealt with years ago.

He would help her through this. He would be there for this woman who held the weight of the world on her shoulders. Later he would acknowledge the part of him that was overly satisfied that she felt comfortable enough with him to let him see her like this. Later he would acknowledge the fact that she trusted him with this part of the past that she was so cripplingly ashamed of.

"If I had reacted quicker, if I had paid more attention, if I had kept my footing, if I'd just been _better_ my father would still be alive and I wouldn't have lived for the last ten years knowing that I failed him."

"No," he wouldn't hear any more of it. Cullen forced her to hold his gaze, forced her to hear the truth of his words, and to feel the warmth of his affection for her. If she could see how much he cared about her, how highly he thought of her, then maybe she could see that perhaps all this blame that she had placed upon herself was unnecessary. "You were a girl with the misfortune of losing her father too soon. His death wasn't your fault, there was nothing that you could have done. You let these 'what if's plague you, but they are meaningless, because they change nothing."

Suddenly Cullen knew where Delani's fears of inadequacy stemmed from. Losing her father so violently had been more than emotionally scarring, but mentally as well. She blamed herself, and so she found fault with everything she'd been at the time: weak, inexperienced, unprepared. She'd just been a girl, a girl who expected too much from herself and didn't know how to handle her pain. Delani needed someone to blame, and it was easier to blame herself than to accept that sometimes things were out of her control and there was nothing that she could do about it.

"You didn't fail him, Delani," he assured her, locking her gaze with his, imprisoning her in his embrace so that she had no other choice but to listen. "Your father was proud of you until the moment he died. He wouldn't have blamed you for his death, so how can you blame yourself?"

Before she could answer, before she could argue her guilt further, Cullen stated, "You are not the girl you were back then. You've grown into a strong, intelligent, relentless, powerful woman. You are everything that your parents could have ever wanted you to be. You have to forgive yourself, Delani. You have to move on."

She stared up at him for a long time, processing his words. After a moment she nodded her head, her movements slow, labored. The admission, the unearthing of all of those feelings, it must have been taxing for her, but Cullen was glad that he had been able to help her through it.

Delani was quiet for a second, waiting for her emotions to smooth out. When she looked back up at Cullen she forced a smile onto her lips and said, "My father was the first man I ever loved. He was my world, and losing him destroyed me." She coughed out a self-deprecating laugh, embarrassed that he had just borne witness to that destruction. "We had the best relationship that a child could ever want with their father, and still there were so many things left unsaid between us, so many things that I wish that I'd had the chance to tell him.

"That is why I want to help Dorian with this." Finally they had made their way back to the purpose of her story. She had told him all of that, had bared her soul to him, so that he could fully understand how much helping Dorian meant to her. Delani would never get another chance to talk to her father, to say all of the things that had gone unsaid, but Dorian still had the chance.

"I know better than to compare my relationship with my father to his relationship with his," she said. "But I know that Dorian would hate himself if he didn't at least try."

Cullen nodded, he knew it too. Offering Delani a warm smile, he observed, "Have you any idea how beautiful you are?" She scoffed and turned away from him, but Cullen gently turned her face back towards him. He locked her green gaze with his, forced her to witness the sincerity and devotion in his eyes. "You _are_ beautiful, Delani. Inside and out. Just looking at you leaves me breathless. You can't possibly imagine."

A rosy tint colored her cheeks and her lashes fluttered as a soft smile took her lips. Quietly, Delani rebuked, "I think I can imagine," before grabbing him by the collar of his cloak and pulling his lips down to hers.

The kiss was deep, needy, comforting. Delani needed his strength and he needed her affection. The emotions that had passed between them left her feeling vulnerable, and Cullen needed to reassure her that his feelings for her remained unchanged. Although, that wasn't exactly true. His feelings for Delani had changed, they'd grown stronger, they always grew stronger. Cullen was overwhelmed by her. His every sense became so easily consumed by her, his every fiber longed for her. Cullen wanted to know this woman, he wanted to have this woman, he wanted to show her how much he cared about her.

Their lips parted too quickly, leaving him longing for more. She pressed her forehead to his and sighed heavily. "I have to get ready to head out."

Just then Cullen remembered that she had given her men an hour to prepare, an hour that she had spent the better part of telling him about her father. She didn't have much time to get ready. Again, Cullen was seeing her off and hoping that she found her way safely back into his arms.

"Be careful, _ma atishan._"

"For you, _vhenan'ara_," she said with a smile, "I will try." Standing on the tips of her toes, she gave him another quick kiss before ducking out from under his arms and striding toward the door. The smile on her face was warm, grateful, and the look in her green eyes was content. "I'll be back in a day or two. Try not to miss me too much."

"Then I will have to remind myself to miss you in moderation," he returned, allowing his own smile to lift his lips. "Will that suffice, my lady?"

She shrugged, "It will have to do, Commander." Blowing him a kiss, Delani turned on her heel and left his office.

He watched as the door swung shut behind her. Sinking into his seat, Cullen considered all that he had learned today. Dorian's issues with his father ran deeper than he let on. Delani's guilt over her father's death was poison that consumed her, but Cullen hoped that they had lanced that wound and that all of the bad blood and buried feelings would bleed out on their own. She would heal, and he would help her along the way.

Cullen's feelings for Delani were more than they had once been, more than they had ever been. He had never felt towards anyone the way he felt about Delani. The name of the sentiment hung heavy on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to think it. What he and Delani shared was still young and unknown. There was still so much he wanted to know about her, there was still so much left to share. After they had spent more time together he would allow himself to think it, to feel it, to accept the fact that maybe —almost certainly— Cullen was falling for her.


	14. Chapter 14

**This chapter contains strong sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.**

**I apologize in advanced for the length of this chapter.**

* * *

"Tell me again why we're waist deep in snow," Varric mused, trudging faithfully behind her. He wore a thick coat, concealing his thick chest hair and protecting him from the cold.

Delani grinned back at him, amused by his complaints. "Because," she started with a laugh. "I needed someone to come with me and you were the first one to make eye contact."

"No," he groused, displeased by her misinterpretation of his question. "I meant why are we doing this? What did you drag me out here for?"

She fought to contain her smile. Delani knew that Varric wasn't really upset, he was just annoyed with himself for meeting Delani's eyes and involuntarily volunteering himself to accompany her on this little misadventure. The poor dwarf was probably upset that he'd had to get all bundled up so that he didn't freeze to death on the mountain side. Surely depriving the world the view of his luscious chest hair was a criminal offense. It had to be.

Leading them through the snow bank, Delani felt so inclined to answer him. Her smile grew, knowing that he would _not _like her answer. "One of the children's dogs ran away," she said, struggling to keep her amusement from her voice. "We're on a rescue mission."

"You're joking," it was a demand, a warning, she had _better _be joking or he would ruin her.

Delani threw a goading grin over her shoulder and snickered. Wiping the amusement from her face, she cleared her throat. In the most serious voice she could muster, Delani rebuked, "This is no joking matter, Varric Tethras. And I expect a little more sensitivity from you." He arched a disapproving yet undeniably amused eyebrow in question, and she explained, "You of all people should know how much Fereldeners love their dogs."

The dwarf shook his head, but there was no disguising the smile on his lips. Varric's deep voice of baritone and brandy grumbled, "How easily you forget that _I'm _the one cataloging your story. You should think twice before pissing off the author of your biography, elf."

"Elf?" she gasped, horrified that she'd been demoted from her nickname. "What happened to Scarlett?"

"I took it back," he answered plainly. "I'm changing your name to 'pain in my ass' or 'thorn in my side' or the classic 'what the hell am I going to do with you'." Rubbing his gloved hands together, he grumbled, "We'll talk about you getting 'Scarlett' back once I can feel my toes again."

Her grin returned, brighter than before. Delani refocused on where she was walking, allowing Varric to stew in his half hearted annoyance. When Varric said that the snow was 'waist deep' he'd been referring to _her_ waist, not his. Since Varric stood about as tall as her bust, he could at least see past the powdery white landscape they were trekking through.

Bringing Iron Bull might have been a better choice. Being as tall as he was, he would have been able to see far more than either she or Varric could. Or, at the very least, she could have scaled her way up his shoulders for a better vantage point. Blackwall might have felt more inclined to join her just out of principal. A child had lost their puppy. There was a small, helpless creature freezing on the mountain side. Blackwall would have volunteered himself if he had been anywhere within earshot when she'd been searching for a companion.

Even so, Delani was content with the company she had. Varric might have disagreed. He'd have probably eagerly relinquished his place at her side to the first person to show any interest. But Delani didn't care, she was having too much fun toting around her sardonic and stout friend.

"Do you see her," she asked as a joke, knowing that it would make him simmer.

Varric grumbled, "I can't see a damn thing, elf. And you know it."

Smiling in self-satisfaction, Delani scanned over the flawless scape before them in search of a break in the snow. If she could find tracks, she could find the dog. The little girl had tried to explain to her, between gasps for breath while she sobbed, that her dog had run off just before they arrived at Skyhold. Delani and Varric had followed the pilgrim's path for some time before Delani deviated into the snow. She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew where the dog had run off to, but she wanted to find tracks in order to reaffirm her hunch.

"Just so you know," Varric said from behind her, a laugh hiding in the undercurrents of his tone. "This is going in your story."

Not bothering to hide her smile, Delani wondered, "Yeah? And what will you write about this defining moment in Thedas' history?"

He chuckled, "For generations people will know that Inquisitor Lavellan had a bleeding heart and a soft spot for puppies."

Scoffing, she challenged, "Who _doesn't _have a soft spot for puppies?"

"I can name at least one person who prefers cats," Varric replied, a suddenly somber distance to his tone. With a shake of his head he reasserted himself into their conversation and said, "Anyway, this must be one magnificent dog if the Inquisitor herself is chasing after it."

Delani smiled before supplying, "Her name is Princess Phoebe, so I'm sure that you deduce her magnificence for yourself." Her smile grew into a grin at the sound of Varric's chuckle. They walked in silence for sometime before she started, "Hey, Varric?"

"Yes, your Inquisitorialness?"

"When you tell this story, can you say that I fought a dragon? Oh," she corrected herself. "Better yet, _two_ dragons, which I then tamed. And you, Princess Phoebe and I flew off into the horizon in search of more adventure."

The sound of Varric's laughter bounced off of the mountainside. "How about you leave the story telling to me, elf?"

"What," Delani wondered, "too believable? Should I add something a bit more fanciful?"

Shaking his head, Varric chuckled and said, "Believability is certainly a problem that story is working with."

A sharp sound came from the distance and Delani shot her hand up to silence whatever was about to come next out of Varric's mouth. Recognizing her tense position as one that she often adapted when they were out of the field, and about to walk into trouble, Varric hushed up immediately. Delani's ears twitched as she strained to listen.

Far away, farther than her eyes could see, she could hear playful yapping. The barking was hoarse, high pitched, the kind that a puppy made when it wanted to play. So Princess Phoebe still lived, that was a relief. Her being eaten up by a mountain lion had been a legitimate outcome of the dog running off.

"When you retell this story, will you at least mention how finding Phoebe, princess of the Kingdom of Mahbaree, ended a civil war?" Delani requested, smiling in self satisfaction as she led them toward the sound of the dog's barking.

A sigh expelled from Varric. She could hear the smile in his voice when he asked, "Don't you think that your life is incredible enough as it is? If there's one person in all of Thedas who doesn't need to be talked up in order to make an impression, it's you."

Delani turned around then, walking backwards through the snow as she made a girly _aw_ noise at Varric. "That is the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," she cooed.

"Yeah, I'm a big softy," he said before straightening his shoulders and schooling his features. Pointing a playfully narrowed glare at her, Varric instructed her to, "Keep it to yourself though, I have a reputation in the Merchant's Guild to uphold."

Jokingly, she retorted, "I'm telling everyone," before turning back around to easier lead them closer to the yapping puppy.

Behind her, Varric scoffed, "No one would believe you."

She let the conversation die at that, content to walk the rest of the way in comfortable silence. Delani adored all of her companions… _most_ of her companions, but there were a choice few that she counted dearer to her than the others. Varric was one of those few. Varric was the personification of wit, charm, and nonchalance. Repartee with him came with ease, and he cared about his friends with a fierceness that spoke so deeply to her. He would probably never regard her as fondly as he regarded Bella but, if Delani managed to garner even a measure of that kind of affection, she would be grateful.

They continued to walk for a while, small talk comfortably passing between them to make the rescue mission go by faster. It wouldn't be much farther now, already the sound of Princess Phoebe's yapping was close enough to touch. The puppy was around here somewhere, she was just shorter than the snow.

"Phoebe," Delani called out in a sing song way that dogs seemed to respond to, "Princess Phoebe, come here girl."

The yapping stopped and Delani could picture the puppy's head tilting to the side as she listened for her name. So Delani called after her again, continuing to make her way through the snow. "Come here, Princess. There's a little girl back home that misses you, and toys, and treats, doesn't that sound nice?"

A laugh rumbled from Varric, a delighted sound, as though he had just witnessed something so beyond belief the only plausible reaction was to laugh. "The Herald of Andraste, bargaining with a dog. I couldn't write this stuff if I tried."

Pretending to be annoyed by his observation, Delani glared at the dwarf and replied with a short, "You're not helping, Varric."

"I never said I would, elf."

She stuck her tongue out at him before pushing past another foot of snow and stepping into a clearing. The snow had been plowed down by hooves, and melted down by the sun until it froze over to sleek ice. In the center of the circle was an obviously agitated goat shuffling its hooves in warning at the pint sized puppy furiously wagging its tail. The dog was looking to play, the goat was looking to fight, and Delani was looking to intervene before her promise to a distraught little girl back at Skyhold was broken.

"Alright, you little warrior princess," Delani said as she made her way toward Phoebe. "I think that the goat has had enough fun."

The goat disagreed. He lowered his head, positioning his horns, and started to charge down the dog. Delani was faster, spotting the signs of the awaiting attack before the goat had followed through. She skidded through the ice, scooping up the mabari puppy before it was met by the goat's bone breaking attack. Standing back on her feet, Delani carefully walked a half circle, keeping the goat in her line of sight as she neared Varric's position.

They made eye contact and the dwarf immediately shook his head, knowing what Delani was about to do. Nodding, she smiled as she gently tossed Princess Phoebe in Varric's direction with the instructions, "Catch." The puppy wriggled through the air, but Varric effortlessly caught her.

Satisfied that the dog was in good hands, Delani turned her attention onto the goat and noticed that it was positioning itself for another attack. A happy smile expanded over her lips. To the goat, she said, "You're no dragon, but I'll take what I can get."

When the goat charged her down, Delani maintained her footing and readied her grip. A grunt escaped her upon impact. She clutched the goat's horns fightingly, skidding back a few inches before she grounded her weight and used her strength to oppose the animal. Her biceps strained, the muscles in her back and shoulders locked, the strength in her legs kept her from losing any more ground, and after a second Delani grinned.

Making sure that her grip on the goat's horns was secure, she moved her arms in a quick circular motion and whipped the goat onto its back. The creature made a dissatisfied noise as it scrambled back onto its hooves. It scratched at the ice, disgruntled exhales misting the air before it. When Delani waved it over with a taunting, "Come on, big guy. I'm ready for round two if you are," it rethought the situation and left with another huff.

Disappointed that her opponent and fled so easily, Delani straightened back up and watched as the goat fled the fighting ring. That had been fun, and nostalgic. In the caravan she used to wrestle with the juvenile halla. They would get temperamental and rowdy, and the best way to deal with them was by wrestling them to the ground. Humans loved to talk about how sobering it was to face down a 'good old fashioned mabari charge' but any one of them would have soiled themselves if it was a sexually frustrated teenage halla they'd been facing down.

She clapped her hands clean, satisfied with her swift victory, and started for where Varric was standing with a happily panting puppy in his arms. "How does it feel, Varric? To be working along someone as awe-inspiring as I—" The rest of her question was cut off by a yelp as Delani slipped on a slick patch of ice.

Without enough time to brace herself for impact, Delani felt it the second her head made contact with the sharp ice. A resounding pain flared through her skull and white filled her vision before black chased quickly after it. She felt a heavy breath escape her as unconsciousness claimed her mind and body.

* * *

Cullen was watching as Iron Bull's Chargers trained, fighting against battle dummies while their leader gave them instruction. They were a single unit, moving together, anticipating the other's moves, knowing each others weaknesses. Watching them was like having front row seats to a well choreographed dance. There was no wonder why Iron Bull was so fond of his men, why he had turned Tal Vashoth for them.

His attention was pulled from their training at the sound of a scout's horn blaring. It wasn't a warning of an incoming force, but of a disturbance spotted. Curious, Cullen raced up the stairs onto the ramparts and his eyes widened at the sight he found. Varric, the stout yet sturdy man that he was, was sprinting back towards Skyhold with a familiar body slung over his shoulder. There was a green light furiously aglow behind him, and Cullen had to bite back a sense of panic that threatened to swallow him whole.

Throwing himself back down the stairs, Cullen stormed through the courtyard shouting at Bull to, "Get Solas!" as he hurried down to meet Varric at the gate. He couldn't wait to see if Iron Bull would listen to his instructions, or explain the purpose behind them. All that Cullen could do was run for Varric and hope that the dread blackening his veins had no basis.

Varric was almost at the gate by the time that Cullen intercepted him. Sliding to a halt in front of the dwarf, Cullen quickly relieved him of Delani's weight, barely noticing the whining puppy tucked under his arm. He peered down at Delani, her eyes were shut, there was a gash on her brow, long and thick and bleeding profusely.

Blood was matted through her hair, painting her delicate features with its angry crimson color. Her typically bronzy skin was pale, the color drained from her because of blood loss, he assumed. Running toward the infirmary, Cullen glanced down to see that Varric was still at his side and he wondered, "What in the Void happened?"

A grimness was in Varric's expression, yet in his eyes was the slightest shine of amusement. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Curly."

Before Cullen could question the dwarf further, the other man opened the door to the infirmary and Cullen rushed inside. He ran over to the nearest empty cot and lowered Delani on top. The surgeon was instantaneously standing beside them, looking Delani over with her expert touch.

To no one in particular, yet both of them at once, she demanded to know, "What happened?"

It was Varric who answered, since he was the only one that could. "The Inquisitor slipped and hit her head on some ice," he explained, trying to speak around the dog struggling to lap at his mouth. "She started bleeding," he stated, discomfort obvious in his voice, not because of the blood but because of his friend's well being. "I couldn't get it to stop, or her to wake up, so I brought her back as fast as I could."

The surgeon nodded as though the Delani's injury matched the context of his story. She was pressing a rag to Delani's brow, already it was soaked through with crimson. In truth, Cullen wasn't entirely concerned about the injury on her brow. He was more worried about the pulsing green light emanating from her marked hand. It glowed through her glove, angry and dangerous, and Cullen could guess that it was unstable.

As if on cue, Solas ran into the infirmary and rushed to Delani's side. "What happened?" he demanded. His brows deeply furrowed at the sight of the Inquisitor covered in blood. Knowing that the surgeon would tend to her physical wounds, Solas pulled off Delani's glove and went to work on calming the force pulsing from her hand.

Cullen felt it the moment that the apostate's magic flared. He held Delani by the hand and poured a cooling, calming, current into the mark. Solas's eyes slid shut as he concentrated, he evened his breathing, and let his powers flow steadily from him into Delani.

"Our Inquisitor has about as much grace as a newborn druffalo," Varric stated in answer to Solas's question.

Feeling useless, Cullen grabbed Delani by her other hand and pressed it to his lips. He sent a prayer to the Maker and his bride, begging them to watch over this beautiful woman. When the surgeon had managed to stop the bleeding and wipe the area clean, Cullen could see for himself that the injury was not nearly as bad as he thought it was.

"It's just a gash," the surgeon stated, her voice calm, professional, if somewhat impatient with the men surrounding her. "There was more blood than damage, not even so much as a concussion. There's nothing to worry about. I'll just stitch her up and she'll be as good as new."

The words rang with truth, yet still Cullen had his doubts. "Then why hasn't she woken up?"

"She should any moment now," the surgeon assured him, a needle and thread ready in her hands. Burying the needle into Delani's brow, she started to stitch the skin back together again as she spoke. "Sometimes it takes a little longer to come around. She'll wake when she's ready."

After a few stitches the surgeon was done and left Cullen with the task of cleaning the rest of Delani off. He watched her, worry racking through him as his gaze traced the shape of eyebrows, the slope of her nose, and the plushness of her lips. He was desperate for her to wake, for her eyes to flutter open so that he could see those gorgeous sea green irises staring back at him. As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long.

Her lips twisted and her features pinched with a look that resembled distaste. Before her eyes opened, she groaned, "Where's the princess?"

Cullen assumed that she was delirious, but that didn't stop the relief from coursing through his bloodstream like a salve. She was going to be alright. After a few minutes to gather her bearings she would be fine.

When Varric stepped up and answered, "She's right here, Scarlett, right back where she belongs. Just like you."

He looked at the dwarf, finally registering the puppy in his grasp. Is that what they'd been doing beyond Skyhold's walls? Chasing after a dog? Cullen returned his gaze onto Delani, incredulity spreading through him until he gave it some heavier thought. It was, without a doubt, something that Delani would do. Mixed emotions bubbled in his gut. On one hand, he was furious at her for needlessly endangering her life for the sake of a dog. But, on the other hand, he found it unbearably endearing that she'd gone through the trouble.

A grin settled on Delani's full lips as she pulled herself into a seated position with a wince. Messaging her temple, Delani joyfully investigated, "I'm Scarlett again?"

"Not for long if you keep this up," Varric returned, scolding her for her behavior, but he didn't bother to hide his amusement as well, his relief, his affection.

Holding the dwarf's gaze, she hesitantly asked, "You're going to embellish my slip when you write this part, aren't you?"

He shook his head, wordlessly admitting that there wasn't a chance in this life or the next that she would be so lucky. "I wouldn't bet on it." He answered. His smile shifted from amused to something warmer. Varric was regarding her as a close friend, as someone he couldn't bear to lose; it was an emotion with which Cullen could easily sympathize. "It's good to see you're alright, Scar. You gave us a bit of a scare for a second."

Delani waved off his concern as unnecessary. Nonchalantly she rebuked, "All part of the plan, Varric. All part of the plan."

"Was the plan to bleed to death in the snow, _da'len_?" Solas asked, cutting through their conversation with a scolding tone that matched his expression. All three of them looked toward the mage, surprised to see him genuinely upset with Delani for getting herself hurt when she didn't have to.

Noting the sudden tension that filled the infirmary, Varric adjusted his grip on the dog in his arms and took a backwards set towards the door. "Well then," he started, giving Delani an unapologetic departing smile. "I should probably return this princess to her family. We don't want civil unrest on our hands, after all." Not waiting for them to question what he was on about, Varric left the infirmary with the puppy in tow.

Cullen watched as the two elves stared at one another, neither wilting away from the other's hard look. His curiosity battled with his protective nature. He knew that Solas was about to give Delani a much deserved stern talking to, but he didn't have that right. Delani was Cullen's woman, no one berated and chastised her. But Solas was her friend, and one that she respected. Cullen supposed that she could endure a brief berating.

"Don't be dramatic, Solas," she returned, eyes narrowed, a hint of a smirk trying to tug at the corner of her mouth. "So I fell and knocked my head. I'm fine."

The other man's lip curled into a disappointed sneer. Making sure that the anchor was calm once again, Solas's gaze was downcast as he heatedly rebuked, "_Ma samahl sahlin, solas shem'shiral din'an_."

Cullen tried to work out the words, registering that _ma_ stood for you in this context, and that _samahl_ meant laugh. _Solas_ meant pride —the irony was not lost on Cullen— and _shem_ stood for quick. Those were the only words that he could pick out, but it wasn't sufficient context for what Solas had said. It was frustrating trying to keep up with their foreign back and forth, as Cullen could only make out every few words, and everything else was lost on him.

"_Emma eth. Ma nuvenin hamin_," Delani returned, just as impatient with the man as he was with her. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared up at him indignantly.

The moment that Solas held her by her chin, forcing her to meet and hold his gaze, Cullen felt the wings of jealously unfurl in his chest. That was not the kind of gesture that one friend did to another. There was an unnecessary intimacy to Solas's touch, the worry in his eyes was accompanied by something that resembled adoration. And Cullen grit his teeth to stop himself from reaching out and ripping Solas's hand away from Delani's face. It would be an over reaction, and he knew it, but this strange anger had a vise grip on his heart.

"_Hamin_?" Solas repeated incredulously. "_Ma'em irsulevin._" He bit out, the look in his eyes fierce and protective, a protectiveness that Cullen knew well and was infuriatingly uncomfortable with another man feeling it toward Delani. Unaware of how his proximity, his affection, his presence was grating Cullen, Solas continued,_ "El felonen lath ma. Ma nuvenin elvarel dareth._"

Delani's slouched her shoulders with a sigh and nodded. "_Emma abelas, hahren_."

That one Cullen knew. Delani had apologized to him and, somehow, it served to fan the flames of jealousy currently reaping havoc inside of him. What was the true nature of her relationship with Solas? It was obvious that the male elf had feelings for Delani, but were those inappropriate and treacherous feelings reciprocated? Did she want him like he so evidently wanted her? Cullen's fingers rolled into tight fists at his sides.

Nodding once, as though he were satisfied with her apology, Solas cooly replied, "_Dirthara ma, da'len_."

As though finally realizing that Cullen had been present for all of that, Solas moved his gaze to acknowledge him. "The anchor is stable," Solas informed him, his tone level, detached. Could he feel how little Cullen cared for his presence? Did Solas know how much the sight of his smug looking face offended him? If he did, he gave no outward response to Cullen's uncharacteristic and unwarranted hostility. "She'll be fine."

Not trusting his voice to not betray his emotions, Cullen nodded once. He sucked in a deep breath in attempt to curb his rising anger. He didn't know where this possessiveness had come from, where this jealousy had emerged. Deep down he knew that there was nothing more between Delani and Solas than friendship. Rationality demanded that he was overreacting. Jealousy was preventing him from accessing that part of his mind.

Solas shared another measured look with Delani before leaving her alone with Cullen. Standing at her side, Cullen watched the apostate go, glowering at his back until the door shut behind him. He turned to face the Inquisitor, struggling to school his features into neutrality. With another deep breath, he managed to put a cork on the anger that accompanied his jealousy, and was instead able to focus himself on his worry for Delani's wellbeing.

She buried her face in her hands and her shoulders jumped as a self-deprecating laugh spilled through the cracks of her fingers. Her voice was muffled by her palms when she groaned, "This is embarrassing."

Cullen rounded the cot until he was standing where Solas had been before. The thought of the other male reminded him of his anger, his jealousy, and he fought to shove those emotions back down. _All in due time_, he assured himself. They would talk about what was going on between her and the apostate, first he had to be sure that she was okay.

Gently gripping her by the wrists, Cullen tenderly pried Delani's hands from her face until her beautiful eyes were revealed to him once again. The stitches on her brow would likely scar. It would have been avoidable if Solas had decided to heal her, but the thought of the other man putting his hands on Delani again was infuriating, so he shoved it out of his mind.

Cupping his huntress's face in his hands, he tilted her head back and stared down at her. She had given him quite the scare. All that blood, the anchor pulsing like it had been, at first glance Delani's injuries appeared more severe than they actually were. A small smile managed its way onto his lips as he stared down at her delicate features.

"What were you doing out there, Delani?" He asked, desperate to understand why Varric had carried her back into Skyhold on his shoulder. "What happened?"

She wrapped her fingers around his wrists and held his hands to her face. Sighing, she shook her head and placed a soft kiss on the inside of his hand. When Delani met his gaze again, he could clearly see the embarrassment twisting her features. "A little girl arrived today," she started, sounding sheepish in her explanation, as if she expected Cullen to berate her just as Solas had before her.

"She wouldn't stop crying these big, sad, heartbreaking tears." A frown tugged at the corners of Delani's mouth as if she were trying to demonstrate the sentiment for him, so that he could see for himself how little choice she'd had in the matter. "Her puppy had run away on their way here, and her father wouldn't let her chase after it. It was lost forever. She was never going to see her little Princess Phoebe ever again."

A smile grew on Cullen's lips unbidden. He didn't want to encourage Delani's reckless behavior but, by the Maker, it was adorable. "We couldn't have that, could we?" He couldn't resist. Delani's heart was too good, even if it got her into all kinds of trouble.

She nodded eagerly, regarding Cullen with gratitude that he understood the predicament that the little girl's tears had put her in. "No," she said in answer to his question. "So I took Varric and we went after the puppy. I found Princess Phoebe in the middle of an argument with a goat, and I stepped in to save the day."

"And they'd said that you'd make a poor diplomat." He commented with a shake of his head.

Delani nodded before pausing and narrowing her eyes. "Who said that?" she demanded, before a grin burst forth on her lips and she continued her explanation. "At any rate, I handed Princess Phoebe to Varric, and talked to the goat about the importance of —you guessed it— diplomacy. And then, once he'd seen reason, he left."

Cullen's grin was a mirror of hers. Brushing back her auburn hair, Cullen guessed, "And that's when you tripped."

Nodding, Delani sighed before supplying, "I slipped on the ice and knocked myself out."

_Tsk_ing her, Cullen brushed his nose against hers and wondered, "What am I going to do with you, _ma atishan_?"

Delani gripped him by the front of his cloak and brought her lips up to his. Without brushing the plush flesh of her mouth to his, the warmth of her breath feathered over his skin as she whispered, "You can kiss me until I've learned my lesson."

A hum sounded from Cullen, liking the idea. But before he could lay claim to her mouth, a thought nagged at him, needing to be voiced. With one hand splayed over the small of her back and the other holding the nape of her neck, Cullen wondered, "What is the nature of your relationship with Solas?"

The tension that made her body immediately go ridged was telling. Or perhaps the odd question had simply confused her. Not that his jealousy fogged mind was so easily convinced. As far as he could tell her reaction was as good as a confession.

Pulling her face away from his, Delani removed his hand from the back of her neck and, bracing a hand against his breastplate, pushed him back a step. She looked up at him past her brow with narrowed eyes. Her voice was low, dangerous when she asked, "Excuse me?"

With distance between them, Cullen could see her entirely. He could clearly see how tense she was. But was that tension because of guilt, because she _did_ have something with that apostate? Cullen's rational mind tried to worm through the green haze so thick in his mind, but there was no break in the fog, and it would not dissipate so easily.

"Your relationship with Solas," he repeated, knowing that she had heard him the first time, but clarifying all the same. "What is the nature of your relationship with him." Her green eyes sharpened to daggers and the anger he'd previously corked came loose with a pop. "Are you sleeping with him?"

Her eyes widened with horror before her expression tightened with outrage. "What?" she demanded, as though having him repeat the question a third time would help her to better understand it.

No longer interested in hearing her skirting replies, he was the one who demanded, "Well, are you?"

* * *

This was not happening. Cullen was _not_ questioning her fidelity. Surely she was asleep, still knocked out from her own stupidity. There was no way that her sweet, controlled, affectionate Cullen had just asked her —accused her, more like— of sleeping with another man. Because if he had… _oh if he had_, there would be a reckoning.

Eyes narrowed, lip curled into a snarl, Delani felt her hackles rise as she growled, "Tell me that you did not just ask me that."

"I did," Cullen returned with none of the boyish shyness she'd come to expect from him. His broad shoulders were rolled back, his spine straight, the stance was unwavering, unrelenting. He _had_ asked her the question, and he _did_ expect her to answer it.

Lip curling with distaste, he commenting, "And judging by your reaction, I suppose I have my answer."

Her eyes widened. _No he didn't_. Delani felt a dangerous heat grow inside of her. Fury flapped its wings, breathing life into the embers until a raging inferno blazed inside of her. Cullen's words cut like a knife, but instead of being hurt by them, she'd become ravenous with anger. Delani was a reaver and she was going to tear this silly little human apart.

She jabbed a finger into his chest and he held his ground, stoking her anger even more. "Judging by my reaction you should know that you've infuriated me!"

"Why?" he challenged with a quirk of his eyebrow, the accusation there on his face even if he had yet to say the words. Lowering his face closer to her, he prodded, "Because you have something to hide?"

Delani ducked around him, his proximity enraging, his heat was distracting. "No," she barked, teeth bared. If he kept this up she was going to maim him. "Because the mere suggestion is ludicrous and insulting."

He turned with her, not letting her out of his sight for a moment. Cullen pursued her every movement, her every breath a validation of his suspicions, a confirmation that she was unfaithful. How could he even think that? And why was this possessive, jealous side of him so damn arousing?

"Only if it isn't true," he countered, doubt obvious in his voice.

Glaring, Delani clarified, "Which it isn't!"

"So you say," he replied, taking a predatory step in her direction, causing Delani to take a retreating step backwards. That smoldering look in his amber eyes was threatening, not to hurt her, but to lay claim to her. In that very moment Delani couldn't decide if she'd stop him if he tried.

Her back hit the edge of the table, and Delani was trapped. Cullen was closing in on her, his golden eyes dangerous, ravenous, and she could feel the heat directly in her core. Setting her jaw, Delani lifted her chin and refused to back down. She would not be swayed by her unwelcome desperation to be had by him every which way. Right now Delani didn't care how much her body ached for his, how badly she wanted to taste him, to feel him, to mark him with her teeth and her nails. Right now Delani was mad at him, and that sexy look on his face was _not_ going to distract her from her anger.

"Know this, Delani," he rumbled, closing the distance that remained between them. Cullen leaned forward, resting his hands on the table on either side of her, imprisoning her. "I will share you with no man." Cullen lowered his mouth down to her ear and whispered, "You are _mine_."

She bit back a moan. Oh how those words stirred something inside of her. _I'm angry at him, remember?_ she demanded her body to be still. Cullen was acting so unusual, so unlike himself. He was possessive and intimidating, and just so nail-bitingly masculine. The heat gathering in her nether regions ached for him. _No_! She would not give in. She was angry at him!

Ducking out from under his arms, Delani pinned him with a pointed look as she exasperatedly exclaimed, "What is wrong with you?"

Cullen turned, his eyes dark, shadowed by jealousy, by lust, by a possessiveness that she had never known him to posses before. "You haven't yet answered my question," he supplied, answering hers.

"And I don't feel I should!" she threw back at him. Eyes narrowing, emotions quaking, Delani held Cullen's gaze as she said, "How little you must think of me to accuse me of infidelity."

He shook his head, disregarding her statement as false. "I've made no such accusations," he observed, reminding her that the words had not actually come out of his mouth, at least not in the form of an accusation. He lifted an eyebrow before continuing, "I've merely asked you a question. A question that you have yet to answer."

"Because it is obscene," Delani spat, angry at him all over again for even having to ask that outrageous and unfounded question. "Because it is insulting. Because it should have never come out of your mouth to start with."

Shaking his head, Cullen proclaimed, "He's in love with you, Delani." When her eyes narrowed not only with doubt but with denial as well, he insisted, "A blind man can see it."

It was her turn to shake her head. "Solas respects me, he admires me," she reaffirmed. She would fight him on this at every turn. How dare he ask something like this of her. How dare he even think it. "If there is any love between us it is from one friend to the other."

Cullen stalked her down again, and again Delani blindly retreated until her back bumped into the infirmary's support beam. He loomed over her, his tall body pinning her between the beam at her back and himself. Resting his forearm over her head, Cullen lowered himself toward her. His scent was in her nose, mouthwatering, like summertime and freshly fallen rain. Heat radiated from him, licking her surface, begging for her to reach out and touch him. Cullen was overwhelming her senses and all she could do was wriggle in place as she tried to remind her body that they were mad at him.

He lowered his lips to her ear and whatever moisture had been left in Delani's mouth immediately dried. The flames of desire evaporating all moisture and sending it elsewhere. "What is the nature of your relationship with Solas?" his voice was low, husky, a primal growl that vibrated through her body straight down to her core.

There was no way that Delani could have answered even if she tried. Her voice would betray her. Trying to keep her hands pinned at her back was struggle enough. Oh, how badly she wanted to reach for him, to scrape her nails through his golden blond hair. She desperately wanted to grind her aching body against his, to feel his strength against her, to discover if he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

Delani clamped her mouth shut and refused to answer. Anything that came out of her would be no better than a breathy moan, and she would _not_ let him know how badly she wanted him.

Placing a hand on her waist, Cullen arched her body toward his and she obeyed his commands without a fight. Delani was weak, and he was too overwhelming. Mouth still hovering by her ear, he wondered, "Has he touched you as I have?" and his hand went from her waist to her ass.

Her breath hitched. Cullen had _never_ touched her like this. She had ached for it, had dreamed of it, fantasized about it without end. But Cullen was typically a creature of respectful propriety. This sudden, strange, yet unusually intoxicating shift in personality was driving her mad.

She breathed in his scent and her body quivered. With a shaky exhale, Delani answered, "No."

The satisfaction in his smirk was loud enough for her to hear. He breathed and gooseflesh rose on her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Cullen tilted his head a bit and asked, "Has he tasted you as I have," before dragging his tongue up the arch of her neck.

Delani did moan then, unable to help herself. Her body reacted to his by its own accord, pressing her pelvis into his thigh. She had to stop herself before she started gyrating against him. Biting her lip, Delani tried to steady her breathing but the more she breathed the more his scent filled her nose. Her heart was hammering wildly, desperately, needing him to touch her all over so that maybe she would find release and calm back down. How did he have this effect on her? How could she want him so badly when she was so angry at him?

"Creators, Cullen," she gasped when his tongue continued to taste her pulse point. Tightly clutching him by the front of his cloak, Delani tried to reason with herself. She was angry with him. She had to remember that. It was the only way that she was going to make it through this.

She tore herself from his shadow with a roar, fleeing from his heat as though it would burn her alive. Delani ignored the part of her that wanted to be burned, that needed so badly for him to set her aflame only to put her out. When he made a move for her again she stopped him with a pointed finger and an infuriated glare.

"Solas is my friend," she stated, returning them to their argument before he tried to cloud her mind with his wiles all over again. "That is all."

Cullen's eyes were still shadowed, hooded. Growling, he repeated, "I _will not_ share you, Delani."

Raising her chin, she spat, "I am not yours to share. I am mine." Finally her anger had broken through enough to overshadow her desire for him. But it wouldn't last long. Already her body quivered with need, with desperation, wanting a release that only he would be able to supply her.

Dangerously narrowing her eyes, angry at him for putting her in this position, angrier still for the argument that had led them to this point, Delani shouted, "I expected better from you, Cullen!" before storming out of the infirmary before her untrustworthy body threw itself at him.

Slamming the door shut behind her, Delani marched over to the stables and grumbled the whole way there. She swiped an apple from the barrel as she passed it, went to Cornelius's stable and gave the hart the treat as offering before entering his stall. Happy that she'd remembered to bring him a treat, the hart gratefully nuzzled her cheek after he'd swallowed the apple whole.

Delani gently pushed his nose out of her face and prepared the brushes that she would use on his pelt. At the moment, her mood was dark and foul, and she needed to relax. Brushing Cornelius always did the trick, but she doubted that the hart would help her forget how badly she'd wanted to ride _Cullen_ as a mount.

She shook the thought from her head. She was mad at him. She was going to continue to be mad at him. Her body could calm down because she was not ready to forgive him for his accusations, and she was not about to give herself over to a man who thought for a second that she could be unfaithful.

Several minutes passed before Delani's thoughts steadied. Cornelius happily sat through his grooming, enjoying the feel of the brush gliding over him, and the action had a similar effect on her. Stroking him, brushing the hart, had a calming effect on her and helped her to think more clearly. Now that she was no longer angry beyond reason, or mindlessly aroused, she could allow herself to wonder at the origins of Cullen's jealousy.

What had he seen that had sparked such terrible emotions in him? Solas had tended to her, made sure that the anchor was stable, and then he'd chewed her out like she was stale jerky. All of which had been done in Elvish, a language that Cullen was learning, but not entirely familiar with. They had secluded him from the conversation, kept him outside as though he didn't matter.

Cullen's reaction had been far from acceptable, but a part of her did understand. She and Cullen were romantically involved, yet she and Solas were having a private conversation right in front of him in a tongue that he didn't fully understand. A typically unshakable Cullen had been threatened by Solas, but why? Delani found herself needing to know.

She decided that once she was done brushing Cornelius she would go to Cullen again. They would have a calm, nonsexual, conversation about why he had behaved the way he did, and he was going to explain himself. Afterwards, she would show him how baseless his concerns were.

* * *

Cullen was embarrassed. Maker's breath, he hadn't the slightest idea of what had come over him. Seated at his desk, elbows on its surface, and face hidden behind interlaced fingers, Cullen winced at the memory of his outlandish behavior.

Seeing Delani with Solas, how close they were, had roused something primal inside of him. He had felt this need to claim what was his, to dissuade all others from even the thought of taking her from him. He had flung out an accusation as though he had any right to do so.

A groan escaped him and Cullen shook his head. What was wrong with him? Delani drove him mad. Sometimes it was all he could do to keep his hands off of her. The shape of her body, and how easily it molded to his, had always been a subject of fantasy for more nights than he dared to recall. He wanted her, there was no denying that, but the way that he had cornered her in the infirmary, how he had crowded her and pinned her to him, it was wrong.

When he and Delani finally made love it would not be in the midst of a heated argument pertaining her faithfulness to him. It would be beautiful and perfect and everything that she deserved. Delani deserved more than a tryst in the infirmary, she deserved more than him. Cullen was ashamed.

The sound of his office door opening pulled him from his thoughts. He looked over his steepled fingers only to have his heart drop into his stomach as though it had been made of iron. Delani stood on the other side of the room, her features no longer hard with anger, no longer flushed with desire. They had both taken some time to think, and now it was time for Cullen to grovel.

"Delani, I—"

She took a sharp step toward him, though kept her tone level when she spoke. "Do you want to tell me what that was about, Cullen?"

"I- I don't know." He dragged his fingers through his hair. Cullen honestly _didn't _know. He had tried to keep a rational mind, but emotion, possessiveness, jealousy, and desire had fogged his head up so thickly that he couldn't have cut through it with the sharpest of blades.

Cullen shook his head. He knew that they needed to have this conversation, that he needed to explain himself, and he would try as best he could. "Seeing you with him, the way he touched you, the way he looks at you. Solas adores you. And I was blinded by jealousy."

He held her gaze. He knew that he had no right to ask, but beseeched her anyway. "Please forgive me."

"Not yet," she answered with a curt shake of her head. The words were meant to discourage him, but they filled him with hope instead. The situation was not unsalvageable. She'd said 'not yet' which meant that soon, and with a lot of effort, Cullen could win back her good graces. He didn't deserve them, but he wanted them still.

Her features were soft, concerned even, when she stated, "That wasn't like you and I want an explanation."

"Solas has feelings for you, Delani," he stated again, but now Cullen felt so much less conviction about it than he had felt before. When he insisted, "Feelings that go beyond simple respect and admiration," it was to convince himself as much as her. "I suspect that he's in love with you."

Delani shook her head, rejecting his words as untrue, and maybe they were. "Solas isn't in love with me, Cullen," she maintained, refusing to hear anything to the contrary. "He is my friend. His opinion matters to me, his perspective is invaluable."

She held his gaze for a beat before her sea green eyes softened with both regret and understanding. A sigh spilled from her and Delani inserted, "But, if our friendship makes you uncomfortable, I will put distance between us. Whether or not Solas's feelings for me are any deeper than what I believe them to be, I have eyes for only one man and he need not fear them wandering to another."

If Cullen had not felt the fool before, he was certainly feeling it now. Worse, he felt like an uneducated, ill-mannered vagabond. How undeserving of Delani's affections he was. How dare he even ask for them after his barbaric display.

"I know," he sighed, disgusted with himself. "Maker's breath, I know." How could he have ever questioned her loyalty? She had done nothing to deserve his mistrust, and now it was time to confess to both her and himself what was the root of the problem.

"Distance between you and Solas is unnecessary. He is your friend and an important one at that." Rubbing the back of his neck, Cullen avoided her gaze for a moment as he admitted, "If I am being honest, losing you to him is not what makes me weary."

She closed the distance between her and his desk, her expression open, welcoming, warm. She wanted to listen, she wanted to hear his explanation. Delani wanted to understand, and only he could give her enlightenment . "Then what is it," she asked. "Help me understand what is going on in that wonderful head of yours."

"It's..." he hesitated but forced himself to finish. "It's the fact that I'm human."

Her head tilted to the side and the question in her expression never made it out of her mouth.

Hurriedly, Cullen explained, "Being an elf, and having the abilities that he has, he is a better match for you. He can understand you in areas that I can only sympathize. He knows your traditions and understands your heritage, and your people would look on the pairing with favor. The same cannot be said about me."

"Oh, Cullen," Delani cooed, rounding his desk until she had managed to nestle herself between his legs and was leaning on the desk's surface. Placing a hand on his breastplate, Delani held his gaze with gentle green eyes and wondered, "_Vhenan'ara_, what do I care for any of that?"

His heart started soaring with her words. Did she truly not care? Did none of that really matter to her? Delani was so proud of being an elf, she was so wrapped up in preserving the ways of her people, Cullen had always assumed that she would rather be with a male of her own kind. She would have a better future with an elf than she would with him, especially if she intended to return to her people after everything was said and done. Cullen had feared that beyond reason, had dreaded that one day he would not be enough for her. With her question she admitted that as much as she loved her people, her own desires would not come second to them, and Cullen was her heart's desire.

Still a measure of doubt lingered inside of him. "Right now, I suppose you don't care at all," he said reaching up to cup her cheek in his hand. She was beautiful, so heartbreakingly beautiful, how could he ever be worthy of her? Nervously grinding his teeth, Cullen quietly stated, "But later…" and let the sentence hang between them.

"Later," she said, picking up his sentence where he had left it. "I will only want you." Delani gently grabbed him by the ears and made him hold her gaze. Sternly, unwaveringly, without even a shred of doubt she admitted, "I will only ever want _you,_" and pulled herself to his lips.

Cullen welcomed the soft feeling of her mouth against his. The kiss was featherlight at first, tentative, reacclimatizing after a turbulent afternoon. The gentle touches and light caresses did not last long, however. After a moment a familiar hunger started to rumble inside of him, a carnal need that only Delani could quench. When her tongue skated across his bottom lip, Cullen opened his mouth to her and welcomed her with a groan.

She swallowed the sound and responded in like. The taste of her was in his mouth, her smell in his nose, and Cullen felt a scalding heat start to burn off of her. She was so warm, and he wanted to touch her all over. With his hands on her waist, he fought the urge to pull her into his lap, to force her to straddle him so that she could feel his awakened desire against her.

When Delani pulled away from him a complaint started to form, only to die in his throat at the sight of what lay hidden in her lust shadowed eyes. There were plots unfolding behind those sea green irises, plans being put together that had Cullen standing center stage.

With her hand on his chest, she was supporting her weight on him as she stared into his eyes. A foxy simper spread over her kiss swollen lips and Cullen swallowed hard at the sight of it. "I will only ever want you," she repeated, her voice thick and smoky and Cullen felt it in his groin. Quirking an eyebrow she asked, "Would you like me to show you, _vhenan'ara_?"

She started to nod and Cullen found his head bobbing up and down in unison. Her smile grew and Delani pressed her mouth against his again. Before Cullen could lose himself to the kiss she moved her lips to his jaw. She worked her way down to his neck and, once there, scraped her teeth over the curve of his throat in a way that sent a bolt of electricity right down his spine.

Delani didn't stay at his neck for long. A exhale poured out of him when she freed him from the sensation, even as he longed after it. She kissed the base of his neck, before sliding down his body until she was settled between his legs. Cullen only fully realized her intentions when she started to undo the laces that held his pants together.

Shock belted through him, sobering him to what was about to transpire. Even as he felt a near painful twitch in his pants, he held Delani by the wrist to stop her from unlacing him further. When he opened his mouth to speak it took a few tries to regain use of his tongue. "D-Delani, you don't have—"

She brushed his hand off of her wrist with a semi-grateful, mostly impatient, smile. "I _want_ you, Cullen," she said again, this time using the word in regards to what awaited her once those laces were undone. "I will only ever want you. Let me show you."

Delani didn't go back to untying his pants again. Instead she stayed kneeled between his spread legs, her hands on his thighs, her gaze holding his as she waited. She was waiting for his permission, he realized. Since he had stopped her once, she would only proceed after he'd told her that she could. The gesture was surprisingly important to him.

His nod was stiff, but his consent was clear. Nervousness filled him. It had been so long since he'd been been touched in such a way by a woman, Cullen feared that he would not last. Never before had he cared about anyone the way that he cared about Delani, never before had the simple act meant so much to him. Just the sight of her stooped between his legs, unknotting his trousers, reaching for his arousal, it was almost enough to undo him right then and there.

When her skin made contact with his, a hiss pulled out of him. She was so warm, so wickedly warm, he wanted to feel that heat all over. Delani tugged at his pants, and Cullen sat up in his chair, helping her to wiggle the fabric down some so that she could better access him. Once she was satisfied that there were no more obstacles in her way, she pulled down the front of his trousers and his arousal sprang free with flourish.

Delani stared at his endowment for a moment, wide eyed, before licking her lips and reaching for his girth. Her delicate fingers wrapped around his base and Cullen threw his head back with a moan. If he reacted so intensely from just a touch, there was no doubt in his mind that he would not last a second in the heat of her mouth.

She pumped him once and he groaned again. Maker, that felt good. An eager smile was on her lips and she flashed her wicked grin up at him before taking him into her mouth. Cullen tightly gripped the armrests of his chair to keep himself from moaning too loudly. The heat of Delani's mouth was volcanic, so intense that all Cullen could see for a moment was stars.

With only the tip of his member between her lips, Delani stared up at him, innocently batting her eyes as though she would never have guessed that his reaction had been because of her. Smiling to herself, she returned to her task, pumping Cullen's length while bobbing up and down on his tip. With each downward bob she took more of him in, keeping pace with the stroke of her had until he felt himself at the back of her throat.

Cullen bucked, the sensation too much, he couldn't handle it. He wasn't going to make it. His breaths were heavy, desperate. Delani had stilled with him sheathed entirely in her mouth, and her immobility was driving him mad. Tearing his hands from where they were fiercely gripping the chair's armrests, he wove his fingers through Delani's hair and gently urged her back into motion.

She laughed, the rumble vibrating against him and another groan escaped him. What was she doing to him? He couldn't begin to understand how she was able to make him feel this way. Complying to the pleas of his hands, Delani started to move on his manhood again. Her tongue scraped along the base of his member until she was at the tip again, where she would twirl her tongue over his head before taking him to his entirety all over again.

He felt the heat pooling in his groin, hot like melted steel just waiting to be poured into its mold. There was a tingling in the base of his spine, the only warning that he would receive. As Delani continued her torturous rhythm on his member, taking in all of him before pulling back out, only for him to feel himself hitting the back of her throat all over again, Cullen felt himself inch nearer and nearer to to the edge.

Delani suctioned her mouth around his arousal and that was what finally broke him. With his fingers still in her hair, his hips arched, pushing himself deeper down her throat as his seed burst out of him in the most toe-curling ache of pleasure-pain he had ever felt in his entire life. As soon as the last of his orgasm pulsed from him, Cullen slumped in his seat and felt a satisfied sigh expel from his lungs.

Careful with his hypersensitive member, Delani tucked him back into his trousers and tied the laces back up. Once again he was covered up, as though nothing incredible, mind blowing, absolutely indescribable had just happened between them. She stood up between his legs, a smile on her red and swollen lips.

Leaning forward until her mouth was beside his ear, Delani whispered, "It is _you_ who are _mine,_" before pressing a kiss to his cheek. She stood back up and stepped out from between his legs.

Heading for the door, she threw a sultry look over her shoulder back at him, branding him with her gaze as sure as she had with her mouth. Delani left his office without saying anything further, without so much as a goodbye, and all he could do was stare after her as she shut the door behind her.

Cullen felt like he was caught in a daze. He hadn't felt this relaxed in… he couldn't remember the last time he had felt this relaxed. He stared at the door that Delani had exited from and a dreamy exhale spilled through his nose. Cullen truly was Delani's, through and through, for the rest of time. He did not deserve her, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying.

Delani had shown him that she wanted him, only him. Now it was time that he show her the same. He would never want another, and Cullen was determined to show Delani that she was all that he would ever need for the rest of his days. It was time to start planning.

* * *

**Ma s****amahl s****ahlin, s****olas s****hem's****hiral ****din'an**

**(you laugh now, pride is a quick journey to death)**

**Emma e****th. Ma nuvenin hamin**

**(I am safe. You need to relax)**

**Ma'em irs****ulevin. El felonen lath ma. Ma nuvenin elvarel dareth.**

**(You are important. People care about you. You need to be more careful)**

**Emma a****belas, h****ahren **

**(I am sorry) **

**Dirthara ma**

**(may you learn)**

**[coughs nervously] So... [sweats]**


	15. Chapter 15

Cullen picked the carved halla up off of his desk and inspected it closely. The detail that went into the figure was breathtaking. The halla was posed as though listening for danger, one ear swiveled back and a leg bent with only the tip of its hoof keeping it balanced. Its horns and hide had elegant swooping and spiraling designs carved into it. The wood that Delani had used to carve it from was birch, which gave the statuette a remarkable pale coloring. There were some sharp edges, places that should have probably been sanded down, but Cullen felt as though the rough edges gave the figure more character. It was strong, noble, beautiful and unique; just like the woman who had made it for him.

Sighing through his nose, he fought down a fit of nerves that threatened to consume him whole. Preparations were all but finalized, all that was left was for Delani to come visit him. He knew she would, the woman enjoyed little else the way she enjoyed making sure that Cullen got nothing done. It was only a matter of time before she kicked down his door and demanded his attention, all Cullen had to do was wait, and waiting was the hardest part.

Everything had to go perfectly. He needed for every last one of the details to play out flawlessly, because that was what Delani deserved. She deserved to be surprised and romanced, and she deserved some time away from the stresses of command. It was his duty to the woman to make sure that she got all of those things.

One of the doors to his office was kicked open and in rushed a hurricane of auburn hair. The smile that unearthed at Delani's unannounced visitation was involuntary and automatic. There was a delighted grin on her lips, excitement in her sea green eyes, and an infectious rambunctiousness about her that helped to ease Cullen's nerves.

Cullen set the halla statuette back down on his desk as she closed the distance between them. Before he could open his mouth to speak, she cut him off with an animated, "Cole just found the most handsome cat in the entirety of Thedas." Propping her rear up on the corner of his desk, Delani explained, "He has this thick and fluffy cream colored coat. And right under his cute little black nose is a mustache that could put Dorian's to shame."

When she noticed him arch an eyebrow in doubt, Delani lifted her left hand and swore, "On my honor as a Dalish hunter, I swear to the Creators that this cat's mustache is a thing of legend."

A light hearted laugh burst out of Cullen. Delani could be utterly ridiculous sometimes, and there were no words to describe how much he enjoyed that aspect of her personality. Nodding that he conceded, Cullen assured her, "I believe you."

"Good." Grinning up at him, Delani said, "Now I need you to help me name him. I can't decide between Purrian or Doricat."

The fact that they were even having this conversation pulled another laugh out of him. Shaking his head, Cullen grinned at Delani and just took in the sight of her. She was a creature of beauty. Her bronzy complexion had gorgeous warm undertones, making it seem like she glowed from the inside out. The crimson color of her _vallaslin_ almost blended in with her skin tone, distracting the eye from the light dusting of freckles that covered her cheeks and nose. Her auburn hair had grown since they'd first met those many months ago. Now the beautiful strands fell in waves past her shoulders, begging for him to comb his fingers through them. She was a goddess of war and of beauty, and Cullen wished to worship her in every way imaginable.

At the moment, the best way to show his adoration was to play along with her whimsical behavior. Cullen was more than happy to comply. "A cat as regal as the beast that you have just described to me deserves two names. Why not Doricat Purrvus?"

Jaw dropping with amazement, Delani breathlessly admitted, "That's perfect." Pushing herself off of his desk with the statement, "I have to go tell Cole that we've come up with a better name than 'cat,'" she started for the still open door.

Before she could leave, Cullen gently grabbed Delani by the wrist and stopped her in her tracks. Nervousness reappeared in his gut. The moment was upon him and he hoped that Delani was willing to go along with him, as he had done with her. She turned to face him, curiosity in her features as she looked up from his hand on her wrist to meet his gaze. At the sight of his apprehension, Delani frowned, all amusement left her features and was swiftly replaced with concern.

"Is everything alright, Cullen," she wondered, taking a step closer to him and placing her hand on his bicep. She was inspecting him closely, searching his features for any sign of illness or injury. She placed the back of her hand on his brow and, upon discovering that he didn't have a temperature, caressed the side of his face as she held his gaze. When the only thing Delani found was discomfort, she asked, "Is something troubling you?"

"No." Cullen took her hand and brushed a kiss on her knuckles. Without releasing her fingers from his grasp, he lowered their hands between them, and swallowed a deep steeling breath. "We have some dealings in Ferelden. I was hoping that you would accompany me." Quickly he added, "When you can spare the time, of course," in case she needed a way to politely decline his request.

Brows still furrowed with concern, she reiterated her earlier question. "Is something wrong?"

"What?" he asked, despite himself. How could there be anything wrong while being in her company? "No," Cullen assured her, allowing a soft smile to pull at the corner of his mouth. Still nervous about what her answer would be, Cullen rushed out, "I would rather explain there, if you wish to go."

Delani quirked an eyebrow and her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but a smirk hinted at the edges of her mouth. In the end her curiosity won over whatever else she might have been feeling. Releasing a slow breath, she nodded once and said, "I believe there's time now."

Relief washed over him like a wave of cool water. He knew that Delani's sense of adventure had been a dominant reason as to why she had agreed so easily. Cullen had banked on it influencing her decision. The fact that he knew her so well was a surprise even to himself. "The necessary arrangements have already been made. We can leave whenever you are ready."

Eyebrows rising with surprise, suspicion quickly found its way back onto her features, and amusement shone bright in her green eyes. Pursing her lips, Delani wondered, "How long will we be gone?"

"Two days," he answered. "Three at the most."

"Will I need my armor?"

A smirk twisted his lips at the hopeful ring in her tone. She was always looking for a fight. Unfortunately, that was not what Cullen had in mind. Shaking his head, he answered, "No, armor will not be necessary."

Her face scrunched up with disappointment before she smiled up at him. "Allow me to grab a change of clothes and I will be ready to go."

Cullen tucked his index finger under her jaw and tilted her face up toward his. Angling his face down, he whispered, "Meet me at the stables when you're ready," and pressed a kiss to her lips.

It was meant to be a quick kiss, chaste, but the second that his lips met hers he wanted more. Delani wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself to his chest. With her fingers in his hair, she claimed his mouth as hers, tongue demanding entry. Cullen obliged with a muffled groan. His hands were splayed on her back, arching her into him, pressing her against him, seeking out her heat as though it was life.

Her hands slid from his hair, down the back of his neck, until she was gripping him by the front of his cloak. Without parting her lips from his, Delani tugged him toward her as she sat atop his desk. With her legs spread wide she guided him to stand between them, her grip roving over his chest, around his waist, all the way to his back so that she could pull his body against hers.

Heart beat drumming loudly in his ears, Cullen's entire body felt as though it were suddenly on fire. The effects of his arousal was already tight in his trousers, and Delani moaned at the feeling of him pressed against her pelvis. How badly he wanted to tear open her tunic and rip down her pants. How badly he wanted to touch her all over, to alleviate this tension that always amassed between them. The desire to know her, to really know her, had long since evolved from simple want. It was now a need that he could not continue to ignore. It was a need that, evidently, they shared, and Cullen had little intention of making either of them wait any longer than necessary. Their relationship was ready for this, she was ready for him, just not like this.

Remembering that the door to his office was still wide open helped to clear the fog that had started to settle in his mind. Cullen broke his lips away from hers and took a half step backwards in retreat, hoping that some distance between them would help stifle the fire that was quickly spreading just under his surface.

Delani pouted at the space he had forced between them. When she reached for him, she grabbed him again by the front of his cloak but made no attempt to return him to her arms; respecting that he'd needed the space in order to think clearly. After a second her pout gave way to a mischievous smile and she mused, "I suppose I should go gather my things."

"Yes," Cullen agreed and he softly returned her smile. Andraste preserve him, if he wasn't careful he would disregard his plans and just give into both of their desires right then and there. Clearing his throat, he finished, "You should go do that."

She slid off of his desk, grinning up at him and the blush burning his cheeks. He knew that she adored the effect that she had on him, and she frivolously abused her powers. When she pulled herself up to his lips again it was to meet his lips with a peck, anything more than that and they would be right back where they'd started.

Releasing her hold on his cloak, Delani rounded his desk and started for the door. "One of these days you aren't going to be able to resist me so easily, Cullen," she stated as she left his office.

Cullen watched her close the door behind her and had to shake away the disbelief. Did she honestly think that denying his carnal desires for her was _easy_? If she had any idea whatsoever how difficult it actually was to pull away from her, to not allow things to escalate any further than they already had, she would never stop in her advances.

He combed his fingers through the thickness of his hair and scratched his scruff covered chin. If this trip went as perfectly as he needed it to, Delani would no longer have to worry herself with him 'resisting' her. He wanted her, he needed her, and he would show her that his desire for her stemmed from more than flesh. Cullen's feelings for her were devastating, they were maddening, and he hoped that she more than just understood; Cullen hoped that she felt the same.

When his heart rate had finally settled back down to a steady beat, Cullen left his office and headed for the stables. With Dennett's help, Cullen was able to get Cornelius and Delilah ready to travel. He left the task of preparing the hart to the Horse Master, knowing that the stag didn't particularly care for Cullen. If he had to guess as to why, Cullen supposed it had something to do with another male having Delani's affections. Cornelius didn't like to share; at least they had that in common.

By the time their mounts were ready Delani had found her way to the stables, dressed to travel and with a pack on her shoulders. She thanked Dennett for preparing Cornelius for her. She rounded the hart only to find Cullen standing beside Cornelius waiting to help her onto the beast. He knew that she didn't need his help, he had seen her effortlessly climb atop Cornelius countless times before. Still, when he offered her his hand, he was grateful that she accepted his assistance and allowed him to hoist her up onto the hart's back.

When Cullen cut in front of Cornelius in order to get to his mare, the stag irritably nipped at Cullen for daring to touch Delani in his presence. "Now, now, Cornelius," she scolded him for his assault, though her laugh betrayed her amusement. "You are going to behave yourself. Got it?" The stag made a discontented noise and shook himself out.

Pulling himself onto Delilah's back, Cullen observed, "I don't think he likes me very much."

"Oh, don't mind him," she advised before giving the mount a rough pat on the side of the neck. Smiling at Cullen, Delani explained, "He's just over protective, possessive, and jealous." Eyes playfully narrowing, a goading sideways smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she winked at him and teased, "I suppose I attract a type. Don't I, Commander?" before gently nudging Cornelius with her heels and starting for the gate.

Blood rushed to his cheeks, ears, and neck with her observation. She'd said it as a jest but a part of him had taken it as a reprimand, still ashamed of his behavior. What had happened afterwards had only solidified of those sentiments of over protectiveness and possessiveness. Though he wouldn't likely feel jealousy like that ever again, he wanted to keep Delani safe, and he wanted to keep her his. That was not likely to change.

Instructing Delilah to follow after the Inquisitor and her hart, Cullen was quickly returned to his place at Delani's side. The rhythmic clatter of hooves against stone was the only sound to pass between them for a little while. He gave Delani a sidelong glance and a smile unearthed on his lips. Her eyes were shut as she basked in the daylight, she was a flower in full bloom, breathtaking.

After a deep breath she reopened her eyes and met Cullen's gaze. Smile growing with contentment, Delani finally gave into her curiosity and wondered, "Where are we going?"

"South," he answered vaguely, wanting to keep his plans a surprise.

Delani's beautiful features twisted with distaste before she sighed and shook her head. Adjusting her grip on Cornelius's reins, she started, "Do you remember when I was first named Inquisitor?"

Brows furrowing with confusion and curiosity, Cullen replied, "Of course," as he wondered at the origins of her question.

"I asked a favor of you that day," she reminded him, mischief in her green eyes. "Do you recall what it was?"

His smile grew as he remembered exactly what it was she was referring to. "You requested that the next time that I, or any of your advisors, make a life altering decision in your behest, that I run in by you first." His grin grew. Delani truly did _not_ like surprises.

Nodding that he remembered correctly, she demanded, "Well?"

"Well," Cullen returned, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. "_I _remember informing you that I would take your request under advisement." Delani's eyes narrowed and he finished with a chuckle, "I made no promises to fulfill it."

Pout returning to her lips, Delani threw her head back and whined, "Please, Cullen, don't walk me into this blindly." When she looked back at him her expression was so pathetically pleading he had to bite back his laughter. "_Ma nadas dirthar, vhenan'ara._"

He took a moment to work out her words. _Ma_ meant 'you' in this context, and he knew that _dirth _meant 'tell' or 'speak,' with the addition of _ar _it translated to 'tell me.' But he couldn't remember what _nadas_ meant. Even so, it was enough for him to infer her meaning. She was asking him to tell her where they were going in every language she knew. She was so desperate for information she didn't care if it would ruin the surprise, and Cullen found himself unable to deny her.

Expelling a heavy breath, he conceded with an amused, "_Ma nuvenin, ma atishan._" He chuckled at the sight of her grinning happily at finally getting her way. With a shake of his head, Cullen revealed the purpose of them leaving Skyhold. "Now that you've cleared up that mess with the mages and Templars in the Hinterlands the roads are safer to travel. That being said, my family is visiting Redcliffe for a little while, and I may not get another chance like this one until this business with Corypheus is said and done."

He watched as Delani's features shifted with concern and apprehension. Gnawing on her bottom lip, when she asked her first question he knew it wasn't the one she'd wanted to ask. "What are they doing in Redcliffe?"

"My youngest sister, Hanna, is being courted by a young knight who has pledged his services to Arl Teagan," explained Cullen as he tried to remember the details of the letter that Mia had sent him. "My mother has allowed her to visit him to ensure that his interest in Hanna still stands." He shook his head at the thought of his mother's antics. Her desire to see her children properly wed and cared for sometimes verged on overbearing.

Still chewing on her bottom lip, Delani ventured, "So when you say, 'may not get another chance like this one'…" and waited for him to answer her unasked question.

Quirking his eyebrow as though the answer were obvious, he supplied, "I mean another chance for you to meet my family."

* * *

Delani cringed internally. He wanted her to meet his family. He wanted _her_ to meet his family. She knew that Cullen cared about her, that he saw her for more than her pointed ears and the blood writing on her face. Delani also knew that not everyone was like Cullen. To most she was still a savage, and she feared that was what his family would think of her when they saw her.

Pensively chewing on the inside of her cheek, she gave him a measured look as they continued on their journey. There was a hopeful glint in Cullen's golden eyes. Irises of honey regarded her tentatively, expectantly, waiting for her to react or to say something, but Delani didn't know what to say; she didn't know how to react. With a look alone she could plainly see how important this was to Cullen, how much thought and preparation he had put into this. He wanted her to meet the most important people in his life. She couldn't possibly deny him that.

She had her trepidations, but this meant too much to Cullen for her to fight him now. They were already on the road that would lead them south, she was already in it. However, there was no possible way that she was going to go into this blindly.

"Tell me about your family," she asked with a sigh. A grin expanded over Cullen's features, the corners of his eyes crinkling with satisfaction, and Delani's smile didn't feel as forced as she thought it would be when she returned it.

Cullen actually proved to be the worst source of information about his family. He wasn't nearly as informed as she needed him to be. Many of her questions were answered with a lame, "I don't know for sure, it has been some time since we've last spoken." How was Delani supposed to prepare for this inevitable meeting when her only source of intel was unreliable?

The first half of their journey was spent with Delani rattling off question after question and Cullen trying his best to answer them all. She hadn't learned nearly as much as she had hoped to, but more than either of them had expected. From the few details that Cullen was able to provide, she had learned that Mia's husband's name was Gideon. They had two boys named Asher and Grayson, neither of which was a day older than five. At twenty years old Hanna was the baby of the family. Cullen's brother, Brandon, was the second youngest at twenty-eight.

Three years after the Grey Warden Alistair was crowned King of Ferelden, Brandon had managed to climb his way into the King's Guard. It was a position of prestige, and the family was extremely proud of him for it. Gideon, Mia's husband, was a highly sought after blacksmith. And Mia herself was a seamstress. His family didn't come from money, but they had done well for themselves.

Unsurprisingly, learning more about his family did not help to ease her nerves. They all sounded like wonderful people, and if they shared the same blood as Cullen then they probably _were_ wonderful, but doubt and uncertainty still lingered. While listening to him talk about his siblings Delani took the time to fortify her emotional defenses.

She hoped to the Creators that she would not need them, that his family would love her just like he claimed that they would, but she had to be prepared for the worst. Delani needed to be ready for them to hate her, to reject her, she even needed to be prepared for them to react violently toward her. It wouldn't be the first time that she'd invoked such a reaction, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Delani just hoped that it didn't come to that.

The following few hours were spent reviewing what Elvish he knew, and teaching him some more. Cullen had retained a great deal more than she had expected him to and, after repetition, correction, and more repetition, the words were starting to not sound so awkward in his mouth. His accent was heavy, but the words were clear and his meaning apparent.

There was no way that Cullen could fully comprehend how much him learning her native tongue meant to her. His continued effort not only warmed her heart, but also served to remind her that he would do anything for her. He hadn't asked her for anything in return, except for this; meeting his family. It was important to him because they were important to him. And Delani would do everything within her power to show them that she was someone worthy of Cullen's affections.

Due to Delani's instance they stopped for lunch in a field of wild flowers. While Cullen ate, she worked to make gifts for the women of his family. She didn't have an appetite, and her growing nervousness must have shown in the crinkle of her brow as she worked the flowers into a crown, because he kept reassuring her that everyone would love her and that she had nothing to worry about. His words helped to calm her, but not much. Delani just wanted to get the worst of it over with. The sooner they reached Redcliffe the sooner she'd know if she was going to be as well received as he insisted she would be.

Once they were moving again they didn't stop until they were in the Hinterlands, heading toward Redcliffe, where his family was taking up temporary residence at the inn. Delani had already chewed every last one of her fingernails clean off. She was getting antsy, fidgety, and her heart was pounding loudly in her ears by the time that they passed through Redcliffe's gates. She would take fighting waves of demons over this level of anxiety any day of the week.

Finally the inn came into view. After dismounting, they guided Cornelius and Delilah to the stables around the back. They made sure that their mounts were comfortable before leaving them in the stables and heading back toward the inn's entrance. Noticing the stiffness to Delani's shoulders, and the tension tightening her features and posture, Cullen placed a gentle hand on the small of her back.

He offered her a soft smile and repeated for the thousandth time that day. "Don't worry, they're going to love you."

Not wanting to argue with him, Delani simply returned his smile as best she could and nodded. Taking in and releasing one deep breath after the other, she coaxed the tension to leave her shoulders and her heart rate down from a sprint to a steady race. She thumbed over the hilt of her carving knife, comforted by its continual presence on her hip. When they entered the inn she pried her fingers from the knife, not wanting for anyone to get the wrong idea or feel threatened.

Once they were inside he instructed her to wait for him to go pay for their rooms. Delani gave the inn a thorough once over. Having already been inside before, when she'd come with Dorian to confront his father, she was familiar with the layout. She knew where the escape routes were, and that knowledge only served to tempt her to make a break for it. Delani stood fast. She could do this. For Cullen, she could make it through this.

Her attention was swept up by the sound of a woman calling for Cullen, "Cullen Stanton Rutherford, is that you?" A woman who appeared to be in her mid to late thirties, with a halo of golden hair and a warm mien about her, descended from the stairway and ran toward the Commander.

Cullen turned from his conversation with the innkeeper and faced the woman charging him down. A grin larger than any Delani had ever seen him wear conquered his features. Spreading his arms, he greeted the woman with an excited, "Mia!"

His sister threw herself into his arms and Cullen spun with her once before setting her back down on her feet. Holding her by the shoulders, he gave his sister a close inspection before he said in a breath of relief and contentment, "You look well."

Delani's heart was beating too loudly in her ears for her to catch what Mia had said in reply. She noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye and immediately her gaze darted to the three more blonds that were descending the inn's stairwell. It was the rest of Cullen's family, she assumed, coming to join in on the reunion. Her attention was snapped back to Cullen as he guided his sister over to Delani and, instead of listening to the insistent voice nagging at her to take flight, she forced a smile onto her face.

Guiding his sister toward Delani, Cullen grinned from one woman to the next as he started his introductions. "Mia, I'd like you to meet the leader of the Inquisition, and the Herald of Andraste, Lady Lavellan."

"My Lady," he said to Delani, offering her a reassuring smile. "This is my eldest sister, Mia."

Mia was squeezing Cullen's arm tightly, her features wide with amazement. While a second of tense silence lingered between them, Delani took advantage of the moment to take Mia in. She was several inches taller than Delani, standing as tall as Cullen's temple when Delani only came up to the center of his chest. She was beautiful, sharing many of the same characteristics as Cullen. Her blonde hair was lighter than her brother's, appearing to have more of a sun kissed sandy color than the gold of Cullen's mane. Mia's hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft curls, silky ringlets framing her elegant face, and pulling the attention of everyone in the room.

She had an oval shaped face, almond shaped eyes with irises the color of polished cherry wood, her lips were thin and pouty, and she had beautiful alabaster skin. Her features were creased by a lifetime spent laughing. Mia had a warmth about her, a kindness that helped to ease Delani's nervousness. She offered Delani a pleasant grin, excitement sparkling in her warm brown eyes.

To Cullen she exclaimed, "When you said that you and the Inquisitor had dealings in Ferelden I hardly expected you to actually bring her to meet us!" She then turned her attention to Delani and her smile grew, her excitement spilled onto her features. "This is so exciting! It's an honor to meet you, Your Worship."

Delani smiled politely at Mia, and said, "Please, Mia, call me Delani," hoping that she was better with informalities than Cullen was.

Before another word could pass between them, a soft and gentle voice called for Cullen. "Cullen!" Delani took a step back as the young blond ran across the inn and jumped into her brother's arms.

Squeezing his sister tightly, Cullen buried his face in her hair. There was a grin in his voice when he exhaled, "Hanna," and set her back onto her feet. Smiling adoringly at his baby sister, he observed, "You've grown since I've last seen you."

Irately poking his chest, Hanna returned, "Well, if you made more of an effort to see us this wouldn't come as such of a surprise to you." The small smile on her lips revealed that she was only mostly teasing.

A berated blush started to pink Cullen's cheeks before he moved his attention to the young man that could have been his twin. "Bran," he pulled his brother into an embrace, forcefully patting his back as the younger man squeezed him tightly.

When the brothers released each other, Cullen moved to greet the last one in their circle. The shortest of Cullen's family members was still taller than Delani. Cullen's mother was a homely looking woman, warm and kind with a shine of maternal adoration in her brown eyes. She had the same blonde hair as her children, threaded with silver and strands of white.

"Mother," Cullen brushed a soft kiss on his mother's brow before gently enveloping her in his arms, as if he were afraid to break her. When his mother's arms wrapped around his waist, Delani could see the force with which she was hugging her son. They had all missed him so dearly. The sight of them together was heart warming, and made Delani think of seeing her clan again. Seeing Cullen with his mother made her miss hers but, for now, she was happy to witness Cullen be together with his family again.

When they separated Cullen reintroduced Delani to all of them and, the moment that the introductions were over, the questions started raining down.

"Is it true that you can close rifts?"

"Can I see the mark on your hand?"

"Is it true that it might end up killing you?"

"What do those tattoos on your face mean?"

"Do you have tattoos anywhere else?"

"Bran!"

"What, Cullen? It's a legitimate question!"

"There's this rumor floating around that you walked through the Fade. Well did you?"

"Did you meet Andraste? What was she like?"

"You are so thin! Cullen, you need to make sure that the Inquisitor is eating!"

"You're Dalish aren't you? Is it true that your people kidnap children and make blood sacrifices to your gods?"

Horror drained the color from Cullen's face. "Hanna," he reprimanded his youngest sister who simply shrugged in response to her brother's ire, completely unfazed by a look Delani had seen countless soldiers wilt away from.

"Cullen," she returned just as bitingly. Giving Delani an inquisitive once over, she admitted, "I'm just curious."

Smiling at the young woman, Delani nervously tucked her hair behind her ear with her free hand. Her other hand was currently being held by Mia, who was inspecting the anchor closely with Brandon leaning over beside her. To Hanna, Delani assured her, "We only do that during the blood moon."

They all gasped and Cullen hurried to reassure them, "Maker's breath, she's joking. Tell them you're joking."

Anxiety made her fidgety, and Delani had no control of her mouth when she rebuked with a dry, "I never joke about the blood moon, Commander. You know that."

He gave her a stern look, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. "My Lady," he chastised her with a shake of head. He placed his hand on the small of Delani's back and smiled down at her. "I would appreciate it if you would refrain from scaring my family."

Offering Cullen a half smile, Delani replied, "I'll take it under advisement, Commander, but I make no promises."

Surprised that he would be so bold in front of his family, Delani searched all of their faces and was relieved to find that none of them seemed to notice, or perhaps they simply didn't mind, all except his mother; who just so happened to be glaring at the sight of the contact.

Mouth twisting into a sneer, Cullen's mother observed, "You're not wearing any shoes."

Her heart fell in her chest. Delani looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes. Horrified with herself for not having the sense to wear boots. While spending her leisure time around Skyhold, she always did it barefoot. The only time that Delani ever really bothered to wear her boots was when she knew to expect to find herself in a combat situation. Cullen had advised her that armor wasn't going to be necessary, and so she'd disregarded concerning herself with footwear completely. She was an idiot. Shemlan wore shoes all the time, anything else was strange and unwelcome.

"I- uhm- well… I didn't think-" she chewed on her lip as she looked around at her human audience. Panic started to spread through her. Barely met for ten minutes and already this was not going well. Hoping to distract everyone from the discomfort radiating from her, Delani announced, "I have something for you," before turning her attention to Mia and Hanna. "All three of you."

Swinging her pack around to her front, Delani removed the flower crowns she had carefully stored inside. She was relieved to find that none of the flowers had been damaged by their travels, and all the petals were still in place. She handed them to Mia and Hanna, who immediately fawned over their gifts. When Delani offered Cullen's mother the last crown, the woman raised her hand to decline.

Saving Delani from further humiliation, Brandon motioned for the crown with a grin. "Well if she doesn't want it, I'll take it." He eagerly took the flower crown from Delani and placed it on his head. Looking around at the circle that consisted predominantly of women, Brandon confessed, "I've never felt more beautiful in my entire life."

There was a laugh in Cullen's voice when he stated, "You have not changed a single bit."

To his eldest sister, Cullen asked, "Where are Gideon and the boys?"

"They stayed in South Reach with papa," Mia answered, smiling warmly at her brother. She was fiddling with the flower crown on her head, touching the petals with gentle fascination. "Gideon was commissioned to make a suit of armor and couldn't be pulled away. So it's only us girls, and Bran."

Brandon, who was adjusting how Hanna's crown sat on her head, inserted, "Thank you for not including me in that generalization."

"Oh, I don't know, Bran," Hanna said, grinning up at her older brother. "You should embrace your feminine side, it looks so good on you," before sticking out her tongue.

Stepping up behind Delani, Cullen started pull on the straps of her backpack as he said, "I'll go drop our belongings off in our rooms." When Delani shrugged off her pack and allowed Cullen to take hold of it, he nodded toward an empty table and said, "Why don't you all take a seat and get to know one another?"

"What a great idea!" Mia said, hooking her arm through Delani's and pulling her toward the table. "I have so much to ask you about the Inquisition. Cullen tells me nothing."

Delani threw a pleading glance at Cullen, but he simply smiled as he abandoned her to her fate. She was tugged over the table and plopped down with a sigh. Half a second later Cullen's family joined her, all except for his mother; who lingered back, regarding Delani with a look that greatly resembled distaste.

Before Delani could dwell on what that expression meant, Mia stole her attention with another question; it would be the first of many. "I heard that the Hero of Ferelden was Dalish. Did you two know each other?"

The afternoon pressed on like that for some time. Cullen's family had so many questions, and Delani did her best to answer them all. When Cullen finally found his way back to the table, they redirected their interrogation from Delani onto Cullen; giving her a short reprieve before they decided to bombard her with more questions.

From his seat beside hers, Cullen would occasionally reach out and touch Delani. The contact was brief, but it was warm and constant. The feeling of his hand on her arm, brushing her shoulder, his knee knocking against hers should have helped to ease her nerves, but the look that his mother gave her darkened with each touch.

When Cullen gently brushed his fingers over Delani's shoulder again, his mother's eyes narrowed to daggers and she interrupted the table's ongoing conversation to ask, "Since the Inquisition is a Chantry military operation at its core, is it safe to assume that you've converted to Andrastianism?"

Delani's eyes widened. She glanced up at Cullen but he appeared to be just as surprised by the question as she was. His siblings also looked surprised, but no one said anything about the question, just simply waited to hear her answer. Clearing her throat, Delani fidgeted in her seat and considered how best to answer that question.

"No," she started, knowing that the ice she was treading on was extremely thin. Religion was a topic she typically avoided at all costs, but Cullen's mother did not seem the type to give up. She was careful to maintain a respectful tone as she finished, "I have not converted."

"So you remain a pagan," she snipped, her tone distrustful and disgusted, "a heretic?"

"Mother—" Cullen started, only to be cut off by Delani gently grabbing a hold of his arm.

She offered him a reassuring smile before returning her attention to his mother. "Lady Rutherford, I don't feel that the whole of Thedas minds which religion I fall under when there is so much more to concern ourselves with."

"The whole of Thedas might not, but _I_ do," she retorted before looking at Cullen and adding. "My son should." Before he could say anything to stop his mother from pursuing the conversation further, Lady Rutherford continued with her argument. "How can you allow yourself to be called the Herald of Andraste when you shame the very title? You are meant to serve the bride of the one true god, and yet you worship false idols."

Delani blinked several times, surprised by the venom in the older woman's tone. Lady Rutherford really didn't like her. She'd thought that she had prepared herself for such a reaction but, as it turned out, there was no preparing for this level of rejection.

"I never wanted the title of Herald, my lady," Delani informed her, struggling to maintain a respectful tone. Not only was Lady Rutherford her elder, but she was also Cullen's mother, and Delani would not allow herself to disrespect the woman, even if she didn't return the kindness. "People will believe what they want no matter what I say. And I'm not so bold as to think that I can decide which gods are real and which aren't."

Lady Rutherford took in a sharp breath. She opened her mouth to argue further with Delani but Cullen curtly cut her off before she could. "Enough, mother," he growled, his tone dangerous and unbending. Giving his mother an angry look, he reminded her, "Lady Lavellan is the Inquisitor, and I _will not_ allow you to talk to her in such a manner."

His mother wrung her hands in her lap, gritting her teeth as she fought not to fight with her son. After a minute, she released a heavy breath and conceded, "You're right."

"I am," he agreed. Setting his jaw, Cullen told his mother to, "Apologize to the Inquisitor."

Surprised that he would demand such a thing from his mother, Delani placed a hand on his bicep and assured him that, "That's not necessary, Commander. Lady Rutherford was just—"

"Being rude and disrespectful," he completed her sentence for her, his narrowed gaze not leaving his mother's for a second. To his mother, Cullen stated, "Lady Lavellan is the most thoughtful, considerate, kind, and loyal person I have ever had the pleasure of serving under. She alone can close rifts, she alone can stop Corypheus, and she alone can lead the Inquisition. It hardly matters what gods she prays to when compared to all of that, wouldn't you agree, mother?"

Lady Rutherford worked her jaw as she thought over Cullen's words and tried to find away around them. After a moment a defeated sigh sounded from her, and she apologetically tucked her chin toward her chest. "My sincerest apologies, my Lady Inquisitor. I spoke without thinking."

Mia, Brandon, and Hanna were staring, wide eyed and slack jawed. After a minute passed it was Mia who snapped her jaw shut and tried to alleviate the tension that had settled around their table. "Well, now that that's out of the way. Can I get anyone something to drink?"

It was Cullen who stood from the table. He offered his eldest sister a smile, and said, "Allow me, Mia," before heading over toward the bar.

A second later Lady Rutherford excused herself and gave chase after Cullen. Delani watched them head over to the other side of the inn, wanting to know what they were going to talk about. Brandon pulled her attention from the two, a smile on his face, his brown eyes warm and gentle just like his brother's.

"When I heard that Cullen might be coming to visit us, I grabbed a chessboard so that we could play." His smile grew into an excited grin. "Did you want to try your luck against the master?"

Delani smiled at him, a laugh in her voice when she replied, "I have to warn you, Cullen has been teaching me how to play and I haven't learned a single thing."

"Good," Mia chuckled in reply, "Bran will need a comfort game after I wipe the floor with him."

Her smile wavered from her features when Cullen and his mother still hadn't returned. While she did want to play with Brandon and Mia, Delani was more interested in learning what was taking them so long. With the excuse of needing to find a privy, Delani pardoned herself from the table and went in search of the Commander and his mother.

Her search took her upstairs to the inn's rooms. There was a long hall that branched out into other, shorter halls. A few steps in and Delani was pulled to a stop by the sound of Cullen's agitated voice. She pushed herself up against the wall and steadied her breath, trying to coax her heart back down to a calm beat. Straining her ears, she listened in on a conversation she hadn't meant to be a part of.

"— behavior was unacceptable, mother," said Cullen, still outraged over what had just transpired.

Lady Rutherford's tone was tight when she rebuked. "My behavior was that of a concerned mother worried about the future of her son."

"Mother," Cullen sighed.

"Don't 'mother' me," she snapped at him before investigating, "Are the two of you romantically involved?" When Cullen responded with silence, she pressed him for an answer. "Well, are you?"

"Yes," he admitted shamelessly, even sounding proud by the confession. "We are and I care about her very much."

"Enough to marry her?"

Cullen coughed up a surprised, "What?"

"She may be Inquisitor but, after everything is said and done, she is still an elf, and a Dalish elf at that. She has no land, she has no money, she has no title beyond that of Inquisitor."

"What are you getting at, mother?"

"You are the general of a great army, you are still a young man in his prime, and a bachelor eligible for marriage. You should be looking for a nice girl to marry, a girl that can offer you more. Someone with a title and an inheritance, someone who comes from a respectable family. You need to look for a nice Andrastian girl, because a relationship with this _elf_ will only end in disaster."

"I'm not interested in—"

Having heard enough, Delani turned away from the conversation and headed back down the stairs. She walked past Mia, Hanna, and Brandon with a brisk, "I need some air," and headed outside.

Dusk was starting to darken the heavens, cooling the temperature down to a mild chill. Delani walked down the few steps before taking a seat on the second to last one. Sighing through her nose, she buried her hands in her hair and closed her eyes. She had known to expect hostility. She had known to expect rejection. What she hadn't known to expect was for Cullen's mother to be right. Delani had nothing to offer Cullen. He deserved lands and titles and respect, none of which she could give him. Delani would always be just an elf.


	16. Chapter 16

**A.N: I want to take a second to thank everyone who has favorited/followed/commented on this fiction. There are no words to accurately describe just how much it means to me, and how much it helps to keep this story alive. These characters mean the world to me, and it means even more that you are enjoying them. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are all amazing and wonderful and I love you.**

**Also, this chapter contains strong sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.**

* * *

"I'm not interested in any of that, mother," Cullen declared, completely flabbergasted that the woman was even able to say such a thing. He didn't care about wealth or respect, Cullen cared about Delani and that was all that should have ever mattered. "Delani makes me happier than I have ever been. That should be all that matters to you."

His mother shook her head, regarding Cullen as though he couldn't possibly understand. "Your future matters to me, Cullen." She reached up to pat his cheek but he caught her wrist before she could.

"My future is with the Inquisition, serving the Inquisitor," he stated with all of the conviction he felt. "She is important to me, and my feelings for her are real. I will not marry another woman for titles or wealth, because all I will ever want is her." Narrowing his eyes, he corrected himself, "And I want you to accept that."

"Cullen—"

He shook his head. "She is a good woman with a good heart, and she cares about me as much as I care about her. I will not listen to you erase those facts simply because she's an elf." Setting his jaw, Cullen took in a long breath and steadied his resolve. He gave his mother a measured look as he said, "My future is with Delani, and you will either accept that or you will not be part of our lives."

His mother's eyes widened with shock. She opened her mouth to argue, to try and make him see reason as she saw it, but Cullen wouldn't hear any more of it. Lip curling with distaste, he stated, "She faces enough opposition as it is, I won't let her endure anymore from you," before leaving his mother in the hallway and starting for the stairs.

He knew his mother wanted him to be happy. Cullen knew that his mother wanted him to be taken care of, that was why he had been so confident that she would accept Delani without question. Delani not only made him happy, but she cared about him so much that he still had trouble believing it.

Cullen stepped off of the last step and found Bran in the middle of a chess game with Hanna. Mia was standing at the bottom of the stairwell, leaning her back against a support beam. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted him standing behind her and offered Cullen a smile.

"You know, as your big sister, it is my responsibility to remind you that there isn't a woman in existence worthy of your affections." Mia's smile grew, it was warm, reassuring, supportive. She was offering him everything that their mother had thought to deny him, and Cullen didn't know how important it was to him until she'd given it freely. "But if such a woman were to exist it would be the Inquisitor."

Placing a hand on Mia's shoulder, he squeezed it gently, hoping she would be able to tell how much he appreciated her words. Looking around the inn, Cullen searched for Delani and, when he didn't find her, he wondered, "Where is she, by the way?"

Mia gestured toward the door. "She said she needed some air," she answered. Before Cullen could chase after Delani, Mia caught him by the arm and informed him, "I think she heard you with mother." It was a warning, and one he would be wise to take into consideration when going to speak with her.

He thanked his sister and left the warmth of the inn. Just outside, seated on the second to last step, Delani was hunched forward with her hands in her hair. Her shoulders were trembling, and Cullen knew that it wasn't because of the cold. Taking the few steps down, Cullen shrugged out of his cloak and draped it over Delani's shoulders as he sat down beside her.

Delani jerked at the suddenness of the contact before realizing what he'd done. She closed the cloak around her shoulders and smiled up at Cullen, wiping away the rivulets of tears that fell from her eyes. "Cullen," she said, clearing the emotion out of her throat. Allowing her smile to grow a touch, Delani admitted, "I didn't hear you come out."

"You do know that I don't care what my mother thinks, don't you?" he asked, wanting to get to the point of their conversation so that he could show her what he'd been dying to show her all day.

Burrowing her face in the fur collar of his cloak, Delani sniffed away the rest of her tears and shook her head. She pointed her attention forward and, without looking at him, stated, "But she's right." She must have sensed him stiffen beside her, because she quickly added, "I have nothing to offer you, Cullen. I have no dowery, I have no—"

"Hey," he gently gripped her by the chin and forced her to look at him. Searching her face, Cullen assured her, "I have no desire for wealth or a title. My only ambition is to serve the Inquisition, to serve the _Inquisitor_. I want _you, _Delani." Cullen pressed his forehead to hers and repeated the words she had already said to him, words that he had so desperately needed to hear then, words that she so desperately needed to hear now. "I will only ever want you."

She sighed and nodded against his brow, accepting his words without further argument; much to his relief. "_Ma seranas, vhenan'ara_."

Cullen pressed a kiss to her brow, thinking of how best to reply, before settling on,"_Atisha mala, ma atishan_." Standing from the step, Cullen offered Delani his hand and said, "Come, there is something that I wanted to show you."

Taking his hand, the moment that she was back on her feet Delani shrugged out of his cloak and tried to offer it back to him. When Cullen declined with a shake of his head, she pulled her arms through the sleeves again and nodded in answer to his request. "You are just full of surprises today, aren't you?" With a smile on her lips, Delani prompted, "What do you want to show me?"

Gesturing for her to follow him toward the stables, he asked, "Are you up for another ride?"

Sea green eyes alight with an emotion he dared to call adoration, she assured him, "I would follow you anywhere, Cullen. You know that."

The kiss he pressed to her lips in reply was short, the briefness forced lest he fall prey to her heat again and give into his desires. Quickly they readied their mounts and raced out of Redcliffe. Their destination was a little less than an hour's ride away, and it was an hour that they both used to forget what his mother had said in regards to their relationship. Cullen had been telling the truth when he told his mother that he would cut her out of his life if she didn't accept Delani. Delani might have learned to accept that level of ignorance and intolerance, but it was something that he simply couldn't accept from his family.

He led them through the countryside, through the forestation, all the way until the Hinterlands were no longer visible in the distance behind them. When he finally pulled them to a stop, their mounts were huffing, their breaths misting in the air before them. Cullen dismounted first before going to Cornelius's side and helping Delani from his back.

A lake laid out before them, water reaching out to the horizon before being met by the embrace of land once again. Night was already dark in the sky, a low fog creeping in through the trees and inching toward the lake's edge. Taking in a deep breath, Cullen shut his eyes to let a feeling of nostalgia crash over him. This had been his retreat for many years, being back was strange, but in a good way. He was excited to share this part of his life with Delani.

Taking her by the hand, he guided her onto the dock. A smile inched over his lips at the sound of her melodic voice wondering, "Where are we?"

He led her toward the edge of the dock, his gaze on the rippling water, the cold air of night in his lungs. "You walk into danger everyday," Cullen explained, glancing down at Delani and allowing a warm smile to stretch over his lips. She was so beautiful, so ethereal and wild. He had never stood a chance against her, Cullen had been hers from the start and he hadn't even known it. "I wanted to take you away from that, if only for a moment."

Moving his attention from Delani and back onto the lake, he revealed, "I grew up not far from here. This place was always quiet."

Delani breathed in deeply and a contented smile took shape on her plush lips. Without turning to face him, she asked, "Did you come here often?"

"I loved my siblings," Cullen supplied with a grin. "But they were very loud, as I'm sure you can guess." When she returned his grin, he finished, "I would come here to clear my head. They would always find me eventually."

"It's beautiful," Delani said, pulling his cloak more snuggly against her, and Cullen couldn't help how much he enjoyed seeing her in it, or imagining how much he would enjoy seeing her in nothing else but the cloak.

He shook away his wandering thoughts. He was here for a reason. They would get to that soon enough, there was something that he wanted to do first. Looking back out onto the lake, he started, "The last time I was here was the day I left for Templar training."

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small coin that had always been there, that had seen him through so much. Holding it out before him, Cullen inspected it for the millionth time, taking in all of the small details that he'd already memorized, the scratches, the smudges, the places that had been worn down by him thumbing it over too often. This coin was a part of his life, a part of who he was. It was a piece of home that he could always carry with him. It was the memories of family, the dreams of what the future held in store, it was hope that, even in the darkest times, things would get better.

"Bran gave me this," he said, his voice distant as he remembered that day so long ago. The memory pulled a smile onto his lips. "It just happened to be in his pocket but he said it was for luck. Templars are not to carry such things. Our _faith_ should see us through." And perhaps it had, perhaps faith and luck were not so different.

The small upturn of Delani's lips was understanding. Her large sea green eyes regarded him warmly as she suggested, "A little luck can't hurt every now and then."

"I suppose not," he agreed. "I should have died during the blight, or at Kirkwall, or Haven. Take your pick. Yet I made it back here." Cullen's attention returned to the coin, and he sighed.

For so long it had been his most prized possession but, at some point down the line, that had changed. Actually, Cullen knew exactly at which point it had changed. It was the night that he had been so convinced that Delani had died at Haven, when his faith had not been enough to make him believe that she could survive. And then she had returned, his faith, his belief, his _luck_ had all come back with her.

He took her delicate hand in his and placed the coin in her open palm. "Humor me," he said, offering her a reassuring smile as to dissuade her from rejecting his gift. Curling her fingers around the coin, Cullen held her hand shut as he searched her gaze, trying to impart with her how important this was to him. "We don't know what you'll face before the end. This can't hurt."

When he released her hand from his hold, Delani rolled her fingers back out and stared at the coin sitting in the center of her palm. She took a deep breath before closing her fingers around it and assuring him, "I'll keep it safe," then adding, "But only if you do something for me," before he could release a breath of relief.

Delani tucked the coin into her pocket before reaching for the carving knife that was always on her belt. Cullen's heart jumped into his throat. He had never asked the story behind that knife, had never questioned its importance to her. But he had noticed that she did not go a single moment without it. Even while walking around in the safety of Skyhold, she had that knife strapped to her belt. It was a part of her outfit that he had come to expect, a part of her appearance that he had already accepted. Delani had green eyes, auburn hair, and a knife on her belt; that was how much a part of her it was. And now she was holding it out between them.

"This was my father's knife," she explained, her gaze on the blade, her eyes reflecting its shine. "After the drake had… my father pressed it into my hand while I was holding him in his final moments. He told me that as long as I had the knife he would be with me. _Da'mi isa ma da'mi_."

_A little blade for my little blade_, Cullen whispered the translation in his mind, glad that he was able to work the words out himself. His eyes widened when Delani stretched the knife out toward him, making her offering official. She wanted him to have her knife? Her _father's_ knife? The only memento that she probably had left of the man? He couldn't possibly accept it from her. He could never separate her from that knife, it wouldn't feel right.

"I can't take that, Delani," he said, taking a step back as though even considering it could cost him a limb.

Her auburn brows furrowed with insult. "Please," she insisted. When he still refused she gave him a hard look and observed, "You gave me your lucky coin, this is only fair. This knife has gotten me through some dark places, it helped me survive an avalanche, it returned me to you, and I _want_ you to have it."

When still he hesitated, Delani insisted, "This war is as likely to take you as it is to take me and I can't, in good consciousness, let you face it unlucky. So please, _vhenan'ara_, take the knife."

For a moment all Cullen could do was stare at her. What did he ever do to deserve this woman? A woman who did not know how to take without giving in return. A woman who cared so fiercely that the world trembled at her passion. He had given her a piece of himself, and she wanted to give him a piece of her in return. To deny her gesture was to deny her, and that was something that Cullen simply could not do.

Cullen took the knife, inspecting the worn leather hilt, the curved silverite blade inscribed with Dalish text. _AH_e couldn't work out the meaning of the words, but they weren't what was most important. The gesture was all that mattered. The woman that had made the gesture was the only thing of import.

"I will treasure it always," he assured her before tucking the blade into his belt.

* * *

He placed his hand on her waist and pulled Delani into his warmth. Resting her hands on his chest, Delani stared up at Cullen, searching his eyes, needing to see if he was feeling what she was feeling. Cullen had just given her his most important possession and, in return, she had given him hers. It had felt right, giving her father's knife to Cullen. At least she knew that it would be in good hands, that the luck, the strength, she had always pulled from that knife would now be going to Cullen. She wanted him to have it, wanted him to always have a piece of her with him, but it still wasn't enough. Delani wanted more.

Holding his gaze, Delani's hands roved up his chest to the back of his neck. As he pressed her to his chest, Delani pulled herself to his lips and felt a pleasant chill run down her spine at the feel of his mouth against hers. The kiss was gentle at first, tender, a soft flutter of their lips seeking each other out. Then the heat between them grew and their kisses deepened. Want was turning into need, tenderness into desperation.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she eagerly welcomed him into her mouth. Their tongues danced, a familiar push a pull, twirling, darting, chasing, battling, it was intoxicating. Lost to the decadence of his taste, Delani groaned into his mouth and Cullen swallowed the sound. His hands were gripping her tightly, holding her fiercely as though she might slip away from him at any moment.

With her fingers in his hair, Delani scraped her nails across his scalp and back down to his neck. She needed to feel more of him, she needed to feel all of him. Her hands wandered over the curve of his shoulders, feeling the ropes of muscle through his clothing. Cullen was strong, his body hard, hot, heady. She felt the muscles of his back, how his skin welcomed her touch, how his taut muscles pulled and strained as he too felt her every curve.

"Cullen," she exhaled. His name was a whispered prayer, a plea. His strong fingers were reverently tracing the line of her body, memorizing her curves as though they were scripture. Her breath hitched when his grip found its way to the curve of her breast.

Delani rocked her body against Cullen's and a deep, rumbling moan vibrated through him. "Delani," he breathlessly returned, desire thick in his voice. "I-I-" he stammered, the words either not forming or simply too hard to say. She took his bottom lip between her teeth and sucked and tugged on the flesh, encouraging him to say it. She needed him to say it.

"I-" he tried again once his lip was free. Cullen's hand was on the small of her back, dangerously close to cupping her entire rear. He pressed her to his pelvis and Delani took in a sharp breath at the feeling of his desire against her belly. "I _need_ you."

Finally, the words she had been dying to hear. Countless nights she had dreamed of this moment. Even her waking mind had fantasized about this, about him, about them finally giving way to their desires and welcoming him into her heat. "Cullen, _yes_," she sighed, grateful that he would not pull away this time, that he would not stop her from getting what she so desperately needed.

Growling, Cullen picked Delani up by the waist and a surprised squeak sounded from her. She jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to carry her off of the dock and back onto shore. Once his boot was met by blades of grass, Cullen fell onto his knees with her still in his arms.

"The cloak," his voice was low, husky, grated by desire and a need that she knew intimately.

She knew what he was asking and quickly obliged. Pressing her lips to his again, Delani maintained the kiss as she pulled her arms from the sleeves and allowed the cloak to fall onto the grass behind her. He didn't move from the position, instead Cullen welcomed the taste of her again. His tongue sought hers out, slithered into her mouth and explored her thoroughly. With his hands on her hips, and her legs still around his waist, Cullen moved his grip until it was filled by the curve of her backside.

Delani moaned into his mouth, her hips rocking against his groin and she groaned again. She could feel him through his trousers, could feel his solid length straining against her heat. Desire blinded her, consumed her, and she gyrated in his lap again, seeking out his hardness. The memory of him, of his size, of his girth, of how his manhood had tasted in her mouth, it was maddening.

Upon the first sight of him, Delani had been rendered speechless. She had stared at his length and wondered how he would ever manage to fit inside her. And then she had slowly taken him into her mouth, an inch at a time, and she knew. Cullen would fit, inch by inch, he would fit, he would fill, he would satisfy, and that was exactly what she needed.

He bit into her lip at the feeling of her rocking in his lap. The growl that rumbled through him was dangerous, predatory, possessive, and only served to fan the flames of her desire. Carefully, Cullen set Delani down on his cloak. He pulled away from her lips and a small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth at the sound of her whine in protest.

Any further complaints died in her mouth at the sight of the need in his eyes, the adoration, the affection. Cullen's hands were trembling when he reached out to undo the knots of her tunic, causing him to fumble with the first two. Then Delani caught and held his gaze, she caressed his cheek and he pressed a tender kiss on the inside of her palm. She wanted this. She wanted him, and he could see it in her eyes. The rest of her knots gave way under steady hands.

Gooseflesh broke out over her skin once it was met with the cold night air. Cold that was immediately forgotten at the feeling of Cullen's warm hands on her collarbone, fingers sliding underneath the fabric and pushing it back over her shoulders. All Delani wore underneath her tunic was her breast band, and another shudder wracked through her; not because of the cold, but because of the fire burning in Cullen's amber eyes.

Her tunic fell from her shoulders and pooled on the ground behind her. Delani straightened her spine as Cullen took in the sight of her, proud of her hard earned body. She knew her muscles were strong, taut, defined. She knew her curves were feminine, that she was an atypical combination of firm and soft, of rounded and defined. Delani welcomed Cullen's gaze, as he would welcome hers.

"Maker," he breathed, a prayer of thanks to one most high. "You are so beautiful."

Kneeling before him, Delani gently pressed her lips to his as she started to work him out of his clothes as well. With some assistance from Cullen, she had him out of his bracers and buckles, out of his shirt and undershirt, until he was kneeling topless before her. She sat back and admired Cullen the same way he had admired her.

He was built by strong muscles earned over years of militant training. More than that, the strength in his arms, his shoulders, his pectorals, his rippling abdominals, those muscles were the result of diligent work, of prideful pursual. He had worked hard for his body, not only because his occupation demanded strength, but because _he_ liked the way he looked, the way he felt, and Delani could not blame him for it.

Delani reached out to him, her fingers seeking contact, needing his heat. She placed her hand on his chest, over the excited beat of his heart. Closing her eyes she listened to her own frantic heartbeat, listened to how her body reacted so desperately towards him. When she opened up her eyes again, it was to hold his gaze and whisper, "I need you."

He was on her in a flash, easing her onto her back, his cloak protecting her from the cold, wet grass. Cullen loomed over her, resting his weight on his forearm as he took in the sight of her laying ready beneath him. Hooking his finger around her breast band, between her cleavage, Cullen wondered, "Have you any idea how badly I want you," in that gravelly voice of his.

When she nodded that she knew _exactly_ how badly, he tugged the band downward and her breasts fell free. Cullen licked his lips at the sight of them, a soft groan escaping him as he devoured her with his eyes. He returned his gaze to hers, and she could clearly see the restraint in his eyes, the control.

"Have you any idea how badly I _need_ you?"

Just as badly as she needed him, she guessed. Grabbing him by the face, Delani mewed, "Cullen." It was a demand, an order. She needed his hands on her body, she needed his body all over her, inside of her, she _needed_ him, and she needed him now.

He returned his mouth to hers, starting himself with the familiarity of her tongue against his before venturing to more foreign territory. As he moved his lips from her mouth to her jaw, Cullen's hands were on her breasts, rolling them, kneading them, finding her pearled peeks and pinching them in between his fingers. Delani hissed at the pleasure pain, feeling a jolt zap down her spine and straight to her core.

As Cullen tasted her neck, lapped at her pulse, nipped at her skin, Delani dragged her nails down his back until she had a firm grip on his backside. He was between her legs now, his arousal rocking against hers, and Delani used her grip on his ass to press him more firmly against her core. Curse his trousers, curse her tights! Why were they even still on? These were unforgivable transgressions when she needed him so badly.

Lips like fire grew more and more certain with each taste, soon Cullen was leaving the curve of her neck to her collar bone. He left a trail of wet heat as he kissed and licked his way from her neck to her chest until he had a sensitive nipple in his mouth.

"Creators," Delani threw her head back as she cried out a desperate moan. The feeling of him licking her, sucking her, the tip of his tongue twirling over the perked flesh, it was driving her insane. Clumsy with passion, Delani reached between them and started to unlace his trousers. Blindly she worked as Culled continued to suck on her.

His pants were undone, but they were still on, she had won half the battle but did not yet know victory. Attention divided between her breasts, Cullen released her from between his lips and quietly growled, "Do you need me, Delani?"

"Yes," she cried, "Cullen, please."

"_Ma nuvinen, ma atishan_." Never in her life had her native tongue sounded so delicious to her ears. Cullen tucked his fingers under her tights and dragged them down her legs. Rolling to his side, he quickly discarded his breeches before finding his place between her legs again.

As he kneeled between her spread legs, Cullen stared down at Delani as though she were some creature of legend, as though he expected her to disappear at any second. He was regarding her like a treasure, when it was he who was invaluable, priceless, far too good and more than she would ever deserve.

He gripped the base of his shaft, pulling Delani's attention down to his arousal standing at attention between them. He was thick, veins pronounced, so well endowed and so ready to fill her sheath. When Delani rolled her hips toward him a smile hinted at the edges of his mouth. Cullen lubricated his tip with the slick heat of her desire, eyes clamping shut with the sensation, bottom lip finding its way between his teeth as a groan rumbled out of him.

At the sound of Delani desperately mewing his name, "Cullen, please, I need you," he pressed himself to her entrance to oblige her. Delani hissed and Cullen moaned as he slowly eased himself into the cradle of her body, inch by decadent inch. By the time he was sheathed to the hilt they were both breathing heavily.

Cullen held Delani's gaze, waiting, searching, and when she realized what he wanted she nodded that she was ready, eager, desperate for more. He pulled out of Delani completely before slamming back in, jostling her, stirring her, both of them crying out at the intensity of the sensation. The sound of their bodies slapping together, the rhythm of his thrusts, their passionate moans, were the only sounds to fill the area.

She arched her hips to meet his every thrust, feeling his length slide in and out of her. The feeling of him stretching her, filling her, rubbing deliciously against her aching inner walls, it was intoxicating, addictive, it was getting to be too much. Fire so hot that it burned white was raging at her core, lapping at her skin, stoked by his every touch, by his every thrust. Soon Cullen's body was slapping against her at a quickened pace and she knew that she would not last much longer.

He had pushed her up the hill of climax, and now she stood toeing the edge. With her nails digging into his shoulders, Delani clung to him, hoping to stay grounded while her body threatened to disintegrate from the flames. Then Cullen lowered his mouth back down to hers, the kiss was distracting, disorienting, keeping her mind from focusing the task of keeping her from falling. Just like that, the pressure gave way. White flashed before her eyes as Delani was sent soaring into orgasm.

"Cullen!" she cried as she met the sun. Her body trembled, her insides quivered. She pulsed around him, milking his length for all that he could give her.

His face was buried in the crook of her neck as his own release jetted through him. Cullen had conformed to the shape of her body, molding himself against her as ecstasy drained him and left him spent. Once they had both come down from the billowy clouds of release, he rolled off of her as to not crush her with his weight.

They laid there for some time, catching their breath, taking in everything that had just happened between them. Rolling over, Delani tucked herself to Cullen's side and couldn't fight the contented grin from her face even if she tried. When he wrapped an arm around her shoulders she used his chest as a pillow and breathed him in. Cullen smelled of summer and rain, he was a man beyond comparison, and she was falling so desperately, so madly in lo—

"I probably shouldn't tell you how badly I've been wanting for that to happen," she stated with a giggle, feeling bubbly and alive.

Rubbing the length of her arm, he assured her, "Not nearly as long as I have, _ma atishan_." Cullen pressed a kiss to the top of her head and breathed her in. Quietly he whispered, "I keep thinking that this is a dream, that I'll wake up and I'll be alone."

Delani burrowed into Cullen's side. "If this is a dream I never want to wake," was her muffled reply.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, just basking in the cool air and the warmth of each other's naked company. It wasn't until Delani started trembling that Cullen decided that, maybe, they should head back. "We left rather abruptly. My family will likely be concerned," he said as he handed her her tights before reaching for his own discarded trousers.

Jokingly, Delani inquired, "Afraid that the pagan savage is making a blood sacrifice out of the precious Commander, are they?"

He gave her a reprimanding look before a nervous smile slipped onto his lips. "I hope you do not mind, but I only paid for one room."

Shocked, Delani quirked an eyebrow in surprise. "You were planning to bed me tonight this whole time, weren't you?" she demanded, jaw falling open at his boldness as she pulled on her tunic and retied the knots.

A laugh came from Cullen, loud and buoyant and the most lovely sound she had ever heard. "Is that a complaint I hear, my lady?"

"No," she quickly amended. Delani was nothing but glad that they'd finally made love. She had longed after it, after him, for so long already it was nice to not have to wait any longer. Shrugging, she finished, "Just surprise."

Cullen smiled, his clothes were back on and a little roughed up but he was dressed and that had to count for something. "I am full of surprises, Delani." His smile turned wolfish when he added, "Perhaps a few more await you once we've returned to the inn."

No other words could have had her moving faster. Hurrying to mount Cornelius, Delani shouted, "I'll race you there," and Cullen's laughter chased after her.

* * *

**Atisha mala, ma atishan**

**(Peace now, my safe place)**

* * *

**I hope this was a satisfactory continuation to the last chapter. (please don't hurt me)**


	17. Chapter 17

**This chapter has strong sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.**

* * *

"Maker have mercy," Cullen groaned before scraping his teeth across the arch of Delani's neck. She felt too good, she was too much, the fiery heat of her tight passage was going to ruin him. It already had.

Her nails were digging into his shoulder blades, dragging down his back as she arched herself into his every thrust. Soft mews of pleasure had long since turned into loud demanding moans. She wanted release, she wanted satisfaction, but Cullen was making her wait just a little bit longer before finding either.

He placed a kiss on her neck, soothing the offended area before licking the frantic beat of her pulse. Maintaining a slow torturous rhythm, Cullen trailed his tongue from her neck all the way to her ear. With a quick bite to her earlobe, he tasted the shell of her long, pointed ear. He sucked on the sharp edge and Delani's entire body arched in response, a moan so loud and desperate that it filled the room ripped out of her. When he licked his way back down to her lobe, he hadn't enough time to even think before she shoved him off of her and climbed onto his lap.

The look in her dilated sea green eyes was dangerous, possessive, punishing. With her fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, Delani positioned him at her entrance. "Do you think it's cute to tease me with release, Commander?"

His heart was beating excitedly in his ears, desire so hot it burned like liquid fire coursing through his veins. Delani hovered over him, her clay colored skin glistening with sweat. She looked unreal, like a goddess of vengeance casted from bronze with eyes of emerald and hair of silk dyed by blood. Her round breasts were reddened by his touch, small round nipples beckoning his mouth, his treasured coin had been fashioned into a necklace by a thin rope and was cuddled between the valley of her cleavage.

Cullen placed his hands on her hips as he continued to admire her. Her muscles were hard under his grasp, defined abdominals taut under her skin. Everywhere he touched was shaped by strength, iron encased by velvet, steel accentuated by delicious feminine curves. Delani's body was a temple and Cullen needed to worship her properly.

"Well," she demanded an answer to a question that he couldn't remember. Her lower lips were soaked by her excitement, her desire, and she was depriving him of her feminine embrace. Her eyebrow was cocked as she awaited his reply, the look in her eyes was unforgiving.

A beastly moan rumbled out of him, starting from his chest and vibrating between them. "_Emma abelas, ma atishan,_" he breathed out the apology and his arousal jerked in her grasp.

Delani narrowed her eyes. "You are not forgiven." Slowly, torturously, she lowered herself onto him completely. Her head fell back and a moan escaped her the same time that a needy hiss dragged through his clenched teeth.

Once he was enveloped by the embrace of her hot cradle once more her eyes reopened, Delani looked down to meet Cullen's desperate and hooded gaze. "Put your hands on the headboard," she instructed, peeling his fingers from her hips. When Cullen complied, a wolfish smirk twisted her lips and she said, "I will take what I want from you and you will watch. You are not to remove your hands from that headboard until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"

He had never heard more arousing instructions in his entire life. "Yes," he said with a breathless exhale.

"Good."

Delani started to rock against him and suddenly Cullen wasn't so sure that he could keep his word. She felt too good. He _had_ to touch her. His fingers strained against the wood above his head, his knuckles white from the force with which he was gripping it.

Cullen watched as her breasts bounced. He watched as her hips rolled. He watched as sweat glistened on her skin, rivulets of exertion dripping down the exquisite curves of her body. He licked his lips and threw his head back into the pillow. A frustrated growl rumbled out of him. He didn't know how much longer he could continue to suffer this punishment. Not when her flesh sang so beautifully in want of his touch. Delani was a siren, and he was spellbound, a thrall whose only desire was to touch her all over, please her, possess her.

Enduring his punishment through gritted teeth, Cullen arched his hips deeper into Delani and they both moaned in response to the depth of his thrust. She leaned forward, placing her hands on his chest to perch herself up, Delani held Cullen's gaze as she continued to ride him. Cullen thrust up again and her eyes clasped tightly shut, her nails buried in his chest, ragged breaths were pulled through clenched teeth.

When she opened her eyes again he was pinned in place by what he found in her green gaze. Suddenly Cullen wasn't her prey, her possession, her plaything. Delani was looking at Cullen as though he were life, as though he were everything, and his heart lurched in his chest.

"Delani," his whispered, her name a prayer on his lips. Maintaining his hold on the headboard, Cullen readjusted his grip and fought the temptation to release it completely. He held her gaze, his request clear in his eyes.

She leaned back in his lap, continuing to gyrate her hips, never stopping from pushing herself closer and closer to satisfaction. Nodding once, Delani combed her auburn hair away from her face and breathlessly beckoned him to, "Touch me, Cullen."

Without the need of further invitation, Cullen released the headboard and touched her all over. His hands roved the scape of her body, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples, feeling down the plane of her stomach, gripping her hips as she rolled against him. Her moans were loud, her rhythm was frantic, she was moving with a desperation that he knew well, that he was intimately familiar with, that he was suffering right that very moment.

Cullen could feel his climax creeping down his spine, delicious foreboding awaiting him just around the corner. Refusing to meet release before Delani had enjoyed her own, his fingers found the bundle of nerves at the seam of her womanhood. He started to rub her bud in quick circles that matched the pace of her rolling hips.

"Creators, Cullen," she cried out, her head falling back, her chest heaving as she struggled to find breath. Her pace quickened, her walls started to tighten around him. "Don't fucking stop."

Stop? He wouldn't dare, he was too close. Cullen matched the rock of her hips thrust for thrust and in a matter of seconds Delani fell apart at the seams. A cry sounded from her as she melted on top of him, falling onto his chest as her every bone was rendered useless.

With her laying on his chest, Cullen gripped her by the curve of her rear and hammered into her. The pulse of her vaginal walls was his undoing. As she tightened around him, mind numbing contractions squeezing him relentlessly, he pushed into her one last time before stepping over the edge and falling into the oblivion of ecstasy.

She lay on his chest, her ear over the rapid beat of his heart. They laid like that for a little while, catching their breaths. After a few seconds she brushed a kiss to his chest and cleared her throat. "That was…"

Cullen hugged her against him, still inside her as his arousal softened. Breathing in her scent of wildflowers and sex, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before inarticulately agreeing, "I know."

He could feel her smile against his chest before she lifted her face to look at him. Perching her elbow on his shoulder, she rested her cheek in the palm of her hand and stared down at him. As she ran her fingers through his hair, she wondered, "Remind me again why it took us so long to do this."

Closing his eyes to enjoy the feel of her digits combing through his hair, Cullen released a slow exhale. There was a mild ache starting to take shape in the back of his head, a warning of the migraine soon to come. He had felt it earlier, when he'd first awoken, but the sight of Delani sleeping beside him had been too arousing to resist. Their morning excursion had been a pleasant distraction from the headache, but now that it was over there was nothing to stop the inevitable migraine.

With his eyes still shut, Cullen rubbed a hand down her naked back and admitted, "There was a reason." A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I just can't remember what it was."

"Hey," the concern in her voice pulled his eyes open again. Cullen stared up at Delani, catching the worry in her gaze. She caressed the side of his face, her brows furrowed, her lips pulled into a thin line. Cupping his cheek in her delicate hand, she wondered, "Is everything alright?"

Cullen offered her a reassuring smile before gently moving her hand from his cheek and placing a kiss in her palm. "It's just a headache," he confessed only for a sharp sting of guilt to jolt through him. He hadn't told her about the lyrium yet. Cullen knew he had to, knew that he should have already, but fear of her reaction had kept him silent. He would tell her… later.

Delani placed a kiss on his brow before looking back down at his face, a small smile on her full lips as she asked, "Better?"

A grin expanded over his lips and Cullen flipped Delani onto her back. Careful not to crush her with his weight he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose and answered, "Much. _Ma serannas_, _ma atishan_."

Her gaze was warm as she stared up at him, tender, adoring. She softly gripped him by the nape of the neck and pulled his lips down to hers. The kiss was deep, telling, relaying to him emotions that he found brewing within himself. Her smell of wildflowers was in his nose again, her heat warming up his skin. Delani broke away from him before the temptation to go another round became too difficult to resist.

Rolling out from under him, Delani sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched her arms over her head, a high pitched squeak sounding from her with the effort. Cullen rolled onto his side and watched her, admired how her well defined back muscles shifted with her every motion. The crimson line work of her _vallaslin_ slithered down her spine, branched out over her shoulders, and down her arms to her elbows. It was beautiful, breathtaking, and he couldn't help himself when he reached out to trace the design.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, the tip of his finger following a crimson line as it bent from her spine over her ribcage.

Delani shook her head. "It was more annoying than anything," she supplied, glancing at him over her shoulder to watch him stare at her. When he looked up from her back to meet her gaze, she smiled and explained, "The pain of the needle digging into your skin is like a sharp pinch, but it doesn't stop. You have to sit there, motionless, while a needle buries ink into your skin for _hours_. After a while the pain becomes frustrating."

A breath expelled from his lungs as he tried to imagine the process. His fingers fell from Delani's back as she bent over to collect her clothes from the floor. Standing from his bed, she pulled on her smalls, securing her breast band in place before pulling on her tights and tugging on her tunic. Her gaze was pointed upward as she pulled her hair out from under her tunic and a curious expression twisted her features.

"_Vhenan'ara_," she started, amusement in her tone. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but there is a gaping hole in your roof."

Cullen fell onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. A bright beam of daylight broke through the crumbling wood and brightened his room. Cradling his head in his hands, Cullen allowed a grin to spread over his mouth. "Would you look at that," he retorted, unable to hide his amusement. "I hadn't noticed."

She scoffed. "Obviously, or it wouldn't still be like that." When Cullen grinned at Delani she quirked an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk at the edges of her mouth. "Creators, Cullen, what do you do when it rains, or if it snows?"

"My bed is on the other side of the room," he stated in his defense, a chuckle following suit when Delani pinned him down with an faux-unamused glare. Sighing in defeat, Cullen asked, "You want me to get it fixed, don't you?"

The smile that had been hiding just under the surface of her lovely features finally broke free. Giving him an exasperated look, Delani answered his question with a question. "Why haven't you fixed it already?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he bashfully supplied, "I haven't gotten to it yet."

With a shake of her head, Delani crawled back onto the bed and brushed a quick kiss onto his lips. Pulling away, she stared down at him and said, "I can't tell you what to do with your own space. But I can tell you that if you get sick because of that hole in your roof, I will be very cross with you." Gently patting his cheek, she pushed herself off of the bed and started for the ladder that would let her descend to his office.

"Trust me, Commander," she started as she lowered herself down onto the ladder. Holding his gaze, she assured him with a mildly reprimanding grin, "My ire is not something that you want to have."

Smiling back at her, Cullen replied, "I will keep that in mind, Inquisitor."

She started down the ladder as she said, "Be sure that you do," and disappeared from his quarters.

Cullen waited for the sound of his office door opening and closing before he bothered to roll out of bed. There was still a smile on his lips but, with pulse of pain that jarred through his skull, it quickly gave way to a wince. Now that his only source of distraction had left him, there was nothing to stop his migraine from rolling through his head like the slow crawl of fog. The ache was mild now, but he knew that the pain would progress through the rest of the day.

Sighing, Cullen mentally prepared himself to deal with the pain. He would bear it like he always did. In silence. After making his bed, he put on his underclothes, then moved on to his armor before sliding his arms through the sleeves of his cloak. The fur tickled his neck, warming him against the slight chill that snuck into the room through the hole overhead.

He gave the roof a quick glance, smiling to himself at the memory of Delani glowering at it, as he adjusted the fit of his sword at his waist. On the other side of his belt, Delani's lucky carving knife was sheathed. It would stay with him always, just as his coin would always be with her. In a sense, they would always be together, have a part of each other, and the thought warmed his heart.

Once he was dressed and prepared to face the day, Cullen descended from his bedroom and stepped into his office. The day had only just started, and Skyhold was still in the process of waking to face it full on. Last night had been the first that Delani had spent in his bed since their relationship had escalated into something more. Even though they'd woken up ready and eager to explore each other fully, she had been mindful to leave his quarters before too many people could see her go and realize the true nature of what their relationship had become.

Cullen knew that there were already rumors spreading, whispers circling about their relationship. It wasn't that he was ashamed or embarrassed, the simple fact of the matter was that he wanted the intimate details of their relationship to stay between them. What he and Delani did in his bed or hers was no one else's business but their own. It wouldn't stop the rumor mill from churning up one ridiculous speculation after the other, but he would take a semblance of privacy wherever he could.

Parchment paper lay scattered over his desk, reports from the previous night forgotten the moment Delani had come in hopes of distracting him. It was something she had become quite proficient at. Cullen had managed to resist her for a total of two minutes before allowing himself to be seduced into following her up the ladder to his bed. But now he had twice the work to do.

Another surge of pain ricocheted off of the walls of his skull. Cullen pressed his fingers into his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. With the ache came a familiar wave of nausea. Had he eaten anything it would have rolled in his gut and threatened to come up. Luckily, he had opted to skip breakfast in order to enjoy more time with Delani. Rubbing this temples, he took in several deep breaths, forcing his stomach to settle, before reopening his eyes and getting started with work.

Once he was seated at his desk he did not move again until hours had already passed and every piece of parchment that touched his desk had been attended to. By the time that the noonday sun filtered into his office through the windows, the paperwork on his desk was already read and signed, and all that was left for him to do was to go to the war table and strategize with his captain where the Inquisition's forces were most needed.

Headache still ringing loudly in his head, Cullen continued to ignore the pain as he left his office and started for the main hall. He strolled through the rotunda, surprised to not find Solas at his desk until he heard two mages up in the library in the midst of a heated debate. With a shake of his head, he left the atrium and stepped into the main hall. The din of chattering nobles prodded at his migraine, but Cullen bit back the pain.

Varric acknowledged him with a nod, and Cullen returned the greeting in like before heading for the war room. Something in his expression must have revealed his mood, because the dalliers in the main hall were giving him a wide berth as he passed, and conversation died on their lips until he was out of earshot.

Opening the door to Josephine's office, he stepped into the ambient glow of candles and the smell of lavender. The Antivan ambassador was situated at her desk, quill in hand, working single-mindedly on whatever task was laid out before her. Without so much as looking up to see who had entered her office, Josephine greeted him with a pleasantness in her tone that he found surprising; considering how concentrated she was on her work.

"Captain Ophelia is waiting for you in the war room," she said. "I've instructed for food to be delivered to you in an hour's time."

Unsurprised by her considerate gesture, Cullen bowed his head in gratitude even though he knew she wouldn't see the motion. "Thank you, Josephine."

She nodded in acceptance of his gratitude and refocused all of her attention into work. With nothing left to be said between them, Cullen started for the war room once again. The door opened with a creak, and Captain Ophelia was leaning forward on the table, her brows furrowed in thought.

Looking up at the sound of his arrival, the captain stood at attention until he instructed her to be at ease. He rounded the table to stand beside her and look at what she'd been so concentrated on. Perching his hands on the pommel of his sword, Cullen observed, "I've seen you wear that look before, Captain. What's the matter?"

Captain Ophelia stared up at him with her near black eyes. She was a sturdy woman, tall and built like a qunari. With her skin tone of ebony, her full features were stern, serious, less prone to smiling than most accused Cullen of being. She was governed by strict morals and sound logic, and Cullen was glad to have her as his second in command. With her at his side, there was never a doubt that everything they set out to do would get done.

Her jaw popped in reply to his question. Pointing her attention back down to the map, she motioned to the marker over the Exalted Plains. "Inquisitor Lavellan has requested a bridge be built but with the ongoing conflict between Empress Celine's forces, Gaspard's chevaliers, the Free Men, and demons we don't have a strong enough presence to build and hold the bridge."

Cullen looked down at the map and considered their options. Wanting to know how his captain thought they should approach the matter, he asked, "What do you suggest we do?"

"Thanks to the Inquisitor we are facing next to no opposition in the Hinterlands," she started motioning to the other side of the war table where a marker sat on top of Redcliffe. "If we relocate a fraction of our forces from the Hinterlands and into the Exalted Plains we will be able to have a stronger foothold there."

Scraping his gloved fingers over his scruff, he let out a small sigh as he mulled over her suggestion. "The Hinterlands is the largest area under our protection. We need to maintain a presence there befitting its size."

She hummed in understanding before shaking her head. "Since recruiting the Templars, the mages have been eradicated from Redcliffe castle. With ours and King Alistair's help Arl Teagan has been able to retake control of his lands. A force that great is no longer necessary, and our men are needed elsewhere."

Tapping his fingers on the pommel of his sword, Cullen thought heavily over her suggestion. She had a point, but they still needed to consider all angles. After a deep breath, Cullen ignored the pulsing in his head and started to get to work with Captain Ophelia.

One hour in, his meeting with his captain was interrupted by the smell of food being carted into the war room. They continued to work as they ate, going over strategies and battle plans, discussing how the Inquisition's forces were improving, and which areas were in the most need of improvement. Before he realized it one hour had turned to three and Captain Ophelia had to excuse herself in order to get to the rest of her duties.

Cullen stayed in the war room, looking at the marker covered map. There was so much to do, just looking down at the table made it seem overwhelming. But, despite Delani's evasion of paperwork, she was phenomenal at delegating responsibilities. She knew everyone's strengths, and she knew how to use them. Every marker on the map would be addressed, one at a time, until everyone had a job to do and the necessary tools to get it done.

His migraine had worsened, like he knew it would. The pain was strongest behind his eyes, blurring the colors of the map as his vision faltered. Pinching the bridge of his nose and clamping his eyes tightly shut, he sucked in a series of heavy breaths until his stomach settled back down. For a moment he was too focused on conquering his pain to notice anything else.

That was why, when he opened his eyes to find Cassandra standing before him, he was surprised to discover that he was no longer alone. Cullen's hand fell from his face as he greeted the Seeker. "Lady Cassandra," he said, his voice level, professional. "Did you need something?"

She shook her head curtly, stepping up to the war table to look ever all of the markers. "Only to speak with you."

"In regards to what?" he asked, an eyebrow arched curiously.

"Dagna wants to perform an experiment with Knight-Captain Riley's men," Cassandra ended her explanation at the sight of Cullen wincing and rubbing at his temple. Completely disregarding what she had come to the war room to discuss with him, Cassandra asked, "Are you feeling alright, Commander?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to banish the worst of the pain as he gritted out, "Fine." After a moment the throbbing in his head ebbed just a bit and he was able to see clearly once again. Refocusing on Cassandra, Cullen gestured for her to continue with what she had been saying. "What did you need from me?"

"For you to tell me how you're doing," she answered, disregarding his question and unflinchingly holding the glare he pointed at her. Raising her chin, her next question came out in the form of an order. "How is the pain?"

Grinding his molars, he choked back the irritation that formed at the sound of her concern. Huffing out an impatient breath, Cullen assured her, "Manageable."

Cassandra knew that she would pull no more from him, so she crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave him a severe once over. Concern was obvious in her eyes, but her features were pulled tightly by her agitation with his stubborn behavior. Her gaze stopped at his waist and her eyes widened a bit. When Cullen looked down it was to find what she was staring at.

"That's the Inquisitor's carving knife," she stated, her voice distant, shocked. Cassandra looked up to meet his gaze and something like understanding began to unravel in her eyes. "She gave it to you?"

He felt a familiar heat start to burn under his cheeks and on the back of his neck, though he maintained his unshakable mien. "She did," Cullen said in answer to her question.

Unfazed by his shortness, Cassandra's attention went from his gaze down to the knife before meeting his eyes again. Brows arched with undisguised surprise, she wondered, "So your relationship with Delani is quite serious?"

A part of Cullen wanted to shout yes from the mountaintop, to scream it into the heavens until all of Thedas knew that Delani was his and he was hers. Instead, Cullen remained expressionless as he regarded Cassandra. His migraine had soured his mood, and her prodding was not helping to alleviate the issue.

"With all due respect, Cassandra," he started, keeping his tone professional. "I would prefer to keep the details of my relationship with Delani private."

She nodded that she understood, only to ask, "Does she know that you've stopped taking lyrium?" When Cullen's expression tightened so did hers, with disappointment and agitation. "She's the Inquisitor, Cullen. You have to tell her."

"I know that," he growled, not liking the lecturing tone her voice had taken.

Ignoring his ire, Cassandra returned, "So when will you tell her?"

He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed. Cullen had avoided the topic too long already. Cassandra had proven to be the fire under his ass to get him into action. He couldn't put this off much longer. Delani needed to know for more reasons than her outranking him.

Cullen sighed, and said, "Today."

They held each other's gazes for a second as Cassandra wordlessly offered her support. Turning on her heel, she started for the door and, as she reached for the knob, she looked back at Cullen with the reassurance, "She will understand." Not waiting for his reply she left him to stand alone in the war room again.

Another sigh eased out of him as he considered how the upcoming conversation with Delani would transpire. He hoped to the Maker that Cassandra was right. He did not know if he would be able to carry on without Delani's support. He needed for her to understand.

* * *

Arms crossed over her chest, Delani was leaning her back against the wall as she listened to a Chantry sister retell the tale of Warden-Commander Sophia Dryden's attempt to usurp the Ferelden Throne during the Storm Age. Children were littered throughout the room, listening to the history lesson with varying degrees of attention.

Her hunting trip with Cullen seemed so long ago but, true to his word, he had looked into giving the children at Skyhold an education. It had taken some arm twisting and promised debts, but he had been able to convince the chantry sisters, and a few of the enchanters that they had on staff, to educate the children for a few hours everyday. Delani liked to come and sit in whenever she had the time, though not as often as she liked; the children were easily distracted by her presence and it took too long for them to settle back down from their excitement in seeing her again.

Today though, she was present for another reason. She had to discuss something with Mother Giselle, and the woman had told her to meet her here. Combing back her hair, Delani struggled with nerves that was spreading through her gut like a thicket of vines. She had a surprise in mind for Cullen, and hoped to the Creators that he would like it, but there was a part of her that feared he might take offense instead.

She reached for her knife out of habit, only to find empty space where it had once hung on her belt. Her heart jumped into her throat before she remembered giving it to Cullen, an equal exchange for something dear to him. A smile inched along her lips as she pulled the coin out from under her tunic and stared down at it.

Afraid that she would lose the coin, Delani had drilled a small hole into the trinket and secured it with a thin black rope. Just as her knife would always remain at Cullen's side, his coin would always be near to her heart. They were a part of each other now. She just wished that she had more ways to demonstrate that to him. Hence her desire to speak with Mother Giselle.

"My Lady Inquisitor," a familiar accented voice sounded from beside Delani.

Tucking Cullen's coin back under her tunic, Delani pushed herself off of the wall and turned to greet Mother Giselle. The older woman was regarding her kindly, a maternal smile at the corners of her lips and unwavering patience in her eyes. She motioned with her hand for Delani to walk with her, and started for the stairwell that would lead them back up to the main hall.

"You wanted to speak with me, Inquisitor."

Delani looked back at the children and offered the few that were watching her departure a smile as farewell. Returning her attention to their conversation, Delani stated, "Yes," before nervously tucking her long bangs behind her ear and climbing up the steps beside Mother Giselle. "I wanted to ask you about the Chant of Light."

The human woman's gaze snapped to Delani and hope burned behind her dark brown eyes. They'd had the discussion of Delani's conversion to the faith a dozen times over, and never before had Delani shown any interest in Andrastianism. Knowing better than to push the topic before knowing exactly what it was Delani was asking after, Mother Giselle quietly waited for her to explain herself.

"How—" Delani stammered over herself, feeling awkward having this discussion. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to get it over with so that they might never have this conversation again. "How does one go about learning it?"

A small, encouraging smile spread over Mother Giselle's lips. "Have you changed your mind about denying the faith, my Lady Herald?" The hope in her eyes was loud in her voice. How great it would be for Mother Giselle, if conversion had really been what Delani was after, to convert the heretic Inquisitor and save her immortal soul.

Unafraid to disappoint Mother Giselle on the matter, Delani offered the elder woman an apologetic smile and confessed, "Not quite." When Mother Giselle's features fell, she explained the origins of her inquiry. "The words are important to someone dear to me. And I wanted to demonstrate to them that, though our beliefs are different, their faith is something I greatly admire."

"Things are quite serious between you and the Commander, aren't they?" commented Mother Giselle with a knowing smile on her face. At the sight of Delani's cheeks reddening, the older woman walked over to a nearby table and picked up a tome before Delani could start stammering excuses or falsehoods. She flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

Walking back to where Delani was standing, Mother Giselle handed the book over with the explanation, "May I suggest starting with the Canticle of Benedictions?" As Delani stared down at the words scribed on thin parchment, the older woman added, "And you may want to skim over the Canticle of Silence, chapter three, verse six, whenever you have the time."

Delani absently nodded as she continued to inspect the words on the page. Without looking up at Mother Giselle, she said, "Thank you, Mother."

"Of course, dear child," the pleasantness in the older woman's tone pulled Delani's gaze from the tome in hand. Offering Delani a warm smile, she said, "If you have any questions I will be more than happy to answer them for you. You know where to find me."

She nodded her understanding, before turning to leave. "Thank you again, Mother Giselle," she said over her shoulder as she left the main hall for the courtyard outside.

Delani now had means to memorize the Chant of Light. She knew that there were probably easier ways to go about getting her hands on a copy of the sacred text. The library, for one, was probably overflowing with books identical to the one she was currently holding. But going to Mother Giselle had seemed the right, while simultaneously being the most awkward, way to go about it. What better way to learn about religion than by a religious leader?

Tucking the tome under her arm, Delani decided to swing by Cullen's office before attempting to memorize the verses of a faith that had played such a large role in taking away what little the Dalish had of their history. She banished that train of thought with a shake of her head. Her people were so quick to anger at the mention of all that they'd lost. Delani knew that righting those wrongs could not be done by perpetuating hate. The Chantry had its purpose, but now so did she. With time she would find a way to make things better for her people, and as the Herald of Andraste the Chantry would be forced to accept whatever changes she might bring.

With another shake of her head, she dismissed her wandering thoughts and climbed the stairs to the battlements. After a long day of paperwork Delani was desperate for Cullen's company. She hoped that he would welcome the distraction like he usually did.

Things were a little strange now that their relationship had become sexual in nature. Did Delani give him more space now that she knew how many freckles he had on his back? Or did she give him less, since he'd seen her spread eagle before him? Perhaps things would just carry on naturally and comfortably, which was Delani's hope. If they continued to be transparent and honest with each other it would help prevent any unnecessary awkwardness between them.

As she approached Cullen's office, she realized how strange it would be to see her carrying around and Andrastian text. He knew that her faith was not in the Maker, if he saw her with the Chant it would ruin her surprise. Delani stopped a soldier as he strolled past and handed him the book. With instructions for the lad to return the tome to her chambers, Delani shooed the soldier off and closed the distance remaining between her and the door to Cullen's office.

She pulled the door open only to find Cullen standing behind his desk, leaning his weight on it as he glared at a small wooden box open before him. He didn't look up at to see who had entered his office, didn't pry his gaze from that rectangular box to acknowledge her arrival. His shoulders were tense, his body was rigid. Something had happened since their wonderful morning together. Something was troubling him.

"Cullen?" her voice was soft as she announced her presence, cautious as she approached his desk. Eyeing the man carefully, she searched him for any outward signs of injury. He was a bit pale but, aside from that, he looked fine. "Is everything alright?"

He was silent for a moment before his features hardened with determination. Cullen's voice was professional when he spoke to her, he was the Commander now, and she was the Inquisitor, and Delani's heart fell into her stomach at the sound of it. As much as she wanted to know what this was about, a part of her was afraid that he was about to say something that she wouldn't like.

Amber eyes looked up from the shaving kit to meet her gaze. There was a vulnerability in his golden irises that was quickly pushed back behind a wall of militant safeguards. "As leader of the Inquisition you—" he faltered, pushing himself up off of his desk and standing with his hands on the pommel of his sword. Cullen carefully searched her features, and his mask slipped only a bit, the vulnerability and uncertainty back in his features.

Cullen sighed. His tone was beseeching when he said, "There's something I must tell you."

Her eyes narrowed as her heart beat accelerated. Suddenly Delani wasn't standing in front of the man she lo— cared for immensely, anxiety had triggered her hunter instincts and now she was awaiting an attack. Not a physical attack from Cullen, but undoubtedly an emotional one; which was considerably worse, more often than not. The look in his eyes made her wary, and his tone made her nervous. She wasn't sure that she wanted to hear what would come next, but something in his gaze kept her from fleeing.

"What is this about, Cullen?" she asked, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a thin line.

There was a tick in his jaw as he regarded her. His nostrils flared as a resolute sigh expelled from him. "Lyrium grants Templars our abilities, but it controls us as well. Those cut off suffer." He held her gaze as his words rang with more than just truth, they rang with experience of the personal variety.

Brows still furrowed, Delani listened to him without interrupting. Though this was not the topic conversation she had guessed they would have, it was better than what she had anticipated would have transpired; which was him wanting to end things between them. Still a weight hung over her, an axe threatening to decapitate her resolve. This topic of lyrium and Templars was obviously weighing heavily on Cullen's mind, and Delani wanted to know why.

Unaware of how anxious his behavior was making her, Cullen continued with his explanation. "Some go mad, other's die. We have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the Templars here." His gaze broke from her, uncertainty tightened his features. Clamping his eyes tightly shut, Cullen admitted, "But I no longer take it."

Breath catching in her throat, Delani carefully regarded Cullen one more time. He looked to be doing well enough, but again she noticed how pale he was. Was he experiencing withdraws? Was he suffering? Madness and death did not seem like promising results for him to contend with.

Hands rolling up into fists at her sides, Delani tried to keep a neutral tone as she asked, "How long ago did you stop?" How long had he been suffering?

Cullen's gaze was on the shaving kit again, where he had used to keep his lyrium, she assumed. "When I joined the Inquisition. It's been months now."

Her stomach turned. Months? He had been off of lyrium for _months_ and this was the first time she was hearing about it? Anger started to eclipse her concern for him. Cullen had been hurting all this time without her even knowing it. How many times had he been in her company, smiling to mask the pain? How often did he hide his suffering from her?

Quick and ragged breaths started to wheeze in and out of her. Delani had thought that they'd agreed to be open and honest with each other at the beginning of their relationship. She had thought that they'd agreed to communicate with each other. Instead Cullen had hidden this from her. He had kept his decision to not take lyrium, and the consequences of that decision, from her. She swallowed hard, trying to fight her anger back down, but it was a losing battle. Delani felt lied to, she felt like he didn't trust her. Delani felt worthless.

When she asked, "Why am I only just hearing about this?" it was with more bite than she intended.

"I meant to tell you sooner but it never came up," was his lame explanation, words catching like kindling in the fire of Delani's anger. Unaware of how upset she was, he continued, "After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn't. I will not be bound to the Order, or that life, any longer. Whatever the suffering, I accept it."

Oh, how good for him, accepting his suffering. For the first time Delani was infuriated by a trait of his that she had always adored: his nobility. Cullen would suffer, _had_ suffered, gladly if it meant breaking the ties to a life he no longer counted himself a part of. Delani knew that she should be voicing her support, offering her encouragement, but she was too infuriated to feel anything else. Months. It had been months. Their relationship, young as it was, had been going on for some time already, and yet this was the first she was hearing of it.

If he didn't trust her as his lover, then he should have at least told her as the Commander to the Inquisitor. But Delani hadn't even gotten that. Cullen didn't trust her as his lover and he didn't trust her as his superior. Cullen didn't trust her, and it was a devastating realization.

He carried on over her thoughts. "I would not put the Inquisition at risk. I've asked Cassandra to watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised I will be relieved from duty."

Her stomach rolled again with this new revelation. He had a plan in place, of course he did. And nowhere in that plan was she in play. He would suffer without Delani's help. That had always been the plan, and the plan hadn't changed. Delani knew this was bigger than her hurt feelings, but she couldn't see past them. Her anger at Cullen was greater than her sympathy, louder than her concern.

Exhaling through her nose, Delani repeated her earlier question. "Why am I only hearing about this now?"

Cullen's brows furrowed at her biting tone. Carefully, he supplied, "The discussion and arrangement were made prior to your arrival." His expression turned pleading, begging her to understand. "The matter was being managed, there was no reason to worry you with it."

His words were like a slap to the face and Delani felt the sting of tears prick the backs for her eyes. They evaporated under the heat of her anger. Lip curling into a snarl, she challenged, "You mean other than the fact that I have shared everything with you? I was not aware that baring my body to you was insufficient cause for me to worry about you. I did not know that sharing part of my soul with you," she gestured to her carving knife hanging from his belt, "did not make me important enough to know about this sooner."

Finally realizing how his actions were affecting her, Cullen tried to reason with her. "Delani—" only for her to cut him off.

"I've told you everything. I've shared everything with you." The tears were finally stronger than her anger and they started to blur her vision. "I've shared my fears, my past, I told you about my greatest failure. I gave you the one treasure I have. I've given you my body and I've bared my soul to you. I've trusted you blindly and you—" she blinked, trying to banish the tears from her sight but instead she sent them rolling down her cheeks. Quickly wiping her tears from her face, she quietly finished, "You don't trust me at all."

His mouth fell open with shock before he snapped it back shut. Cullen's features were pained as he looked at her, apologetic. Starting for her, he rounded the desk and said, "Of course I trust you."

Leaping a retreating step back, Delani pointed a finger at him in warning, pinning him in place. "No you don't," she spat back, taking his argument otherwise as an insult to her intelligence. Eyes sharp like knives she said, "You don't trust me as your lover, and you don't trust me as your leader."

"Delani—"

"If you trusted me you would have told me," she growled before he could try to rationalize his actions. "You would have wanted me to be a part of this decision. But you don't. You don't trust me to have your back on this. You don't trust me to support you. You don't trust that I will properly prioritize your needs, your desires, or your place in the Inquisition."

With narrowed eyes, she ground out, "You don't trust me," and allowed the fresh fall of tears to stream down her cheeks uninterrupted.

Cullen shook his head, looking desperate to approach her but not wanting to provoke her further. Breathlessly, he admitted, "I should have told you sooner."

"Yes," she irritably agreed. "You should have. I've been Inquisitor longer than I've been your plaything, and I should have known that my general could potentially die or lose his mind."

He flinched from her words as though they had caused him physical pain. Amber eyes searched her face for something he wouldn't find. "You are _not_ a plaything, Delani," he insisted, fighting for ground she would not give.

Scoffing, she argued, "What else would I be?" She jumped another step back when he took another step toward her. "You obviously don't consider me your equal, nor do you respect me as your superior. So where does that leave me? In your bed, but not your thoughts."

"Delani, it's not—"

"It _is_," she threw back, not caring that she didn't know what he was going to say. "I am not important enough to know this about you. I am not important enough to share your pain and your struggles with. You don't trust me and it is because I am not important enough to you." Her chest was heaving as her fury gave way to hysteria. This secret had hurt her more than she could have ever dreamed possible, and she could not let him see her like this.

When Cullen made a move to close the distance between them, Delani fled. She threw open the door to his office and ran faster than if Cullen had been the dread wolf himself. The mountain air was cold on her wet cheeks, nipping angrily at her skin as though scolding her for her weakness. Delani wiped the moisture from her face as she ran, not caring for the attention she was drawing. Her running feet didn't stop until she threw open a gate, slammed it shut, and leaned her weight against it.

Delani was immediately greeted by a wet nose. Cornelius sniffed her face before rolling out his tongue and dragging it over her salted cheeks. Though disgusting and slimy, the red hart's affectionate greeting was a much needed comfort.

She let him lick her cheeks one more time before gently pushing his muzzle away from her face. The disagreeing noise he made managed to pull a laugh out of her and Delani stroked the side of his face up to his soft ear. Patting the side of Cornelius's neck, she wondered, "You're not hiding anything from me. Are you, Cornelius?"

When he shook himself out, Delani smiled and went to grab a brush from the wall of his stable. "I didn't think so."

She went about brushing Cornelius, allowing her anger to fully disappear. Though she was still angry at Cullen for not telling her about the lyrium sooner, she was now able to think about how that decision was affecting him. Cullen wanted to move on from his past, from the man he had been before the Inquisition, and he was willing to go mad or die to do it. This was not a decision that he had made lightly. It was a decision whose consequences he suffered on a daily basis. Cullen wanted to give everything to the Inquisition.

Cornelius munched from his feeder as Delani brushed him down, happy to be pampered as she worked out her thoughts and emotions. How often had he found himself on the receiving end of her frustration? Too many times to count, though it didn't seem like the hart minded all that much.

Running the brush over his coarse fur, Delani released the last of her anger with a sigh. She was calm enough now to recognize that she had overreacted to Cullen's revelation, and that some of what she had said to him had been unfair. After she was done with Cornelius she would go to Cullen and they would talk properly.

Though she wouldn't have to, because the Commander had sought her out first. Cornelius exhaled indignantly, pulling Delani's attention from the hart and onto the man standing just outside of the stall. There was a pleading look on Cullen's face as he held her gaze, an apology already present in his golden eyes.

"Delani," his voice was tentative, careful not to spook her or set her off. "I understand that you are angry with me, but I'd like a chance to explain myself."

Sighing, Delani moved her gaze back onto Cornelius before she nodded once and returned the brush to its place on the wall. She patted the hart on the neck one last time before leaving his stall and standing in front of Cullen. Examining the regret in his handsome features, Delani admitted with another sigh, "I need to apologize to you first."

A surprised expression lifted Cullen's features and she nodded that he had heard her right. "I made your admission about me. I took insult to being the last one to know and let my feelings get hurt by a decision that had nothing to do with me." Holding Cullen's gaze so that he could see the sincerity in her eyes, hear it in her voice, she finished, "I'm sorry for how poorly and harshly I reacted."

Cullen shook his head incredulously, as though he couldn't quite believe that she would admit to her own shortcomings. Cupping Delani's face in his hands, he stared down at her and breathlessly replied, "I am the one who needs to apologize. I should have told you sooner. I should have told you the moment you became Inquisitor, but my own fears and weakness kept the words inside." Thumbing over her cheekbones, he continued to stare down at her, regret still clear in his eyes.

He shook his head with shame and his lips twisted as he considered how best to explain himself. "I was afraid that you would think less of me, that you would think me a fool for needlessly subjecting myself to withdrawal. I was afraid that you would disagree with my decision, because I will not be able to do this without your support."

Her heart broke for him. She had lashed out so terribly against him when he needed her support above all else, not her ire. "Oh, Cullen," she breathed, wrapping her hands around his bracer covered wrists. "I _do_ support you. I think that what you are doing is incredibly brave, and I respect your decision."

His expression softened and he let out a breath of relief. "Thank you, Delani," he whispered before pressing his forehead to hers. Delani closed her eyes to enjoy his warmth but before she could he pulled away again. A serious expression had taken shape on his face as he regarded her. Before she could ask what had caused his sudden change, he explained it to her.

"You are _not _a plaything to me, Delani." His voice was serious, unbending, leaving no room for doubt. "I trust you with my life. The mistake of not sharing my withdrawal with you was made out of fear and will not be made again. You were right to be angry with me. You've trusted me with every aspect of your life, while I kept a piece of me hidden from you. But that was not because I don't trust you or care about you. It is because there are some parts of me that are not ready to be shared yet. I ask that you be patient with me, and that you try to understand."

Delani moved her hands from his wrists to the front of his cloak and nodded that he had both her patience and understanding. "I do understand, _vhenan'ara_." She would wait as long as it took to know this man completely, even the darkest parts that he couldn't yet bear to share. Delani would be patient because he was worth the wait.

A small smile tugged at the edges of his mouth, and Cullen said, "Good, because you are the most important person in my life, and I will not be able to persevere without you. I… care about you, Delani, more than you can possibly know."

Pursing her lips, she dared to argue, "I'm sure I have an idea."

He huffed in amusement before crushing his lips against hers, stealing the breath straight from her lungs. The kiss was apologetic, it was forgiving, it was all-consuming. Delani hummed happily against his mouth, allowing herself to be pulled in by his heat. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her body against his and felt a match light up in her belly. Unfortunately, Cullen pulled away before that match could set her insides ablaze with desire, and Delani bit back her protesting whine.

Cullen placed a kiss on the tip of her nose before releasing her from his hold. When Delani asked, "Are you up for a drink at the tavern?" it was to be met with disappointment.

He shook his head. "I have to go check on something." Unable to resist her pleading pout, a grin expanded over his lips and he acquiesced. "Order me a drink and save me a seat. I'll meet you there once I'm done."

Returning his grin with a victorious one of her own, Delani assured him, "I'll be waiting," before pressing another quick kiss to his lips and leaving him behind in the stables. First Delani was going to get Cullen nice and drunk, and then she was going to seduce him into her bed. She had to show him how sorry she was, after all.

* * *

Cullen entered the rotunda hoping that he would find Solas at his desk and not in the middle of a magical debate with Dorian. Much to his relief, the apostate was in the atrium, painting on its walls with the rookery's cawing giving music to his work. Cullen bit back his nerves and embarrassment as he approached the elf.

"Solas," he said, pulling the other man's attention from his task. When blue eyes met amber, Cullen explained his purpose. "I was hoping to speak with you."

Solas turned from his task to face Cullen completely. Eyebrow arched with curiosity, he wondered, "What can I do for you, Commander?"

Throwing a glance up at the library's bannister, Cullen made sure that Dorian wasn't snooping before he took a step closer to Solas and softly wondered, "How do I say 'I love you' in Elvish?"


	18. Chapter 18

_Ma Atishan,_

_Word of your impending arrival fills me with great relief. Skyhold is too quiet without you here and, even filled with people and soldiers, it feels empty when you're gone. The children ask after you, you know? Somedays I go to visit them during their lessons and they bombard me with questions about when Lady Delani will return and if she will have more prizes. You've left quite the impression, and I cannot say that I am surprised. It is impossible to not feel changed by the light of your company. You are inspiring, and that cannot be helped._

_There is a surprise awaiting you upon your arrival. But first, I want you to enjoy the hot bath that I will have ready for you, and the warm meal that will be set aside on your desk. I've made sure to remind everyone that you are not to be bothered with paperwork, so you will be free to decompress and relax from your travels. After you've bathed, and eaten, and relaxed, I want you to be ready for me, Delani. Because I have missed you, and I _will_ show you just how much. I will relearn every inch of you. I will reclaim your every curve and valley with my lips, my tongue, and my hands. You do remember how adept those can be, don't you? _

_Watching you leave Skyhold's safety grows more difficult each time, but the anticipation of your arrival nearly eclipses it. I have been without your warmth for too long already, do not make me wait a second longer than is necessary._

_Your heart's desire,_

_Cullen_

Delani reread the letter for the thousandth time, her heart fluttering, her blood warming, an excited blush coating her features as strongly as it had the first time she'd read his letter. She wanted to smell the parchment, to hug it to her chest and squeal unnatural noises. The things that Cullen made her feel were unreal. _He_ was unreal. Surely a man like him could not actually exist and also be hers. She was undeserving.

"Scar," Varric groaned from across the ashes of the put out camp fire. The smile in his eyes only hinted in his voice when he spoke. "Could you do us all a favor and keep the giggling to a minimum today? You're making my teeth ache."

Dorian emerged from his tent in time to join their conversation. "Or, at the very least, let us read what all the fuss is about." Simpering playfully at Delani, he admitted, "I want to giggle girlishly too."

Intaking an offended gasp, Delani rebuked, "I do_ not _giggle girlishly," as she started to refold the letter again and tuck it into the pocket of her pack.

"Is there any other way to giggle?" wondered Cassandra, armored to the teeth and ready to set back out on their journeys and return to Skyhold.

"Ferociously," Delani supplied. "Maniacally, intimidatingly, anything but girlishly."

Dorian and Varric shared a look before a grin expanded over the Tevinter mage's face, and the dwarf simply shook his head. Twirling his mustache, Dorian gave Delani a knowing look and stated, "Dear Inquisitor, you are about as lovestruck as it gets. Why not just admit to the class that you are head over heels in love with the Commander?"

She immediately clammed up. When Delani admitted those words it would be to Cullen and not these vagabonds. And she _would_ admit to those feelings, because they were too strong for her to continue to deny them to herself. As soon as Delani was back in Skyhold, after her bath and her meal, and whatever surprise Cullen had in store for her, she was going to tell him the truth. She was going to tell him that she loved him to the very core of her being. It didn't matter if he said the words back —although she hoped that he would— the only thing that mattered was that he knew that he alone had possession of her heart.

"And how goes _your_ relationship with a certain Tal Vashoth friend of ours, Dorian?" Cassandra asked in Delani's defense and Delani could have kissed her. She would spare Cassandra the embarrassment, and that would have to be thanks enough.

Arching a perfectly maintained eyebrow in challenge, Dorian returned, "Do you truly want to get onto the topic of romantic lives, Cassandra? Because I don't think that you do."

"I don't know, Sparkler," Varric's smooth voice rumbled with a chuckle. "The Seeker enjoys enough romance to fill a book. Don't you Seeker?"

Cassandra's lips immediately thinned and the noise that fell through her clenched teeth was disgusted. Delani smiled at their playful repartee as she made sure that all of her armor was in place and that she wasn't leaving any of her possessions behind. The previous night had been the last one that they would spend away from Skyhold, and she was eager to return to the fortress for more reasons than just her reunion with Cullen; though, admittedly, he was what she was _most_ looking forward to.

Her bed, for one, was beckoning her even now. She could not wait to sleep on the firm mattress, swaddled by her thick down feather comforter and pillows. These long nights spent on her bedroll were doing terrible things to her back. Once she was tucked into her bed not even the highest of high dragons would be able to pull her from between the sheets. It was going to be glorious.

As she fastened the straps of her boots, Delani's ears twitched. She felt a shift in the atmosphere. The air had suddenly become heavier, causing her hairs to stand on end. Tilting her head a bit, she strained to listen to the world around them, searching for sounds of fennecs and nugs running between the trees, of birds serenading the sunrise and hopping from branch to branch. The world was still, holding its breath. Delani had been a hunter long enough to know when she had become the hunted. She'd been tracked by enough wolves and wildcats to be familiar with the feeling of a predator's eyes weighing on her shoulders.

Without looking up from her boots, Delani softly asked the dwarf, "Is Bianca ready, Varric?"

There was a note of caution in his voice when he replied, "Always, Scarlett." He and the others finally noticed the tension in her features, and were starting to react in kind.

To Dorian, Delani instructed, "Slowly reach for your staff. Do _not_ make any sudden movements."

Cassandra, frank and brave to a fault, had a more difficult time feigning nonchalance. "What is it, Inquisitor?" Her grip was tight on the hilt of her sword, ready to unsheathe it at a moment's notice.

"We're about to be ambushed," Delani released the buckles of her boots and stood to her feet, trying to act as casually as she could while stretching her senses in search of their pursuers. If none of them reacted they would have the element of surprise on their side. Their enemy wasn't expecting them to be prepared for an attack, and when they stormed into the clearing it would be to be met by ready and eager opponents.

When Delani noticed that Cassandra was about to furiously scope the area, she hissed, "_Don't_," before the other woman could. With all of her companions' attention on her, Delani instructed them to, "Keep a loose grip on your weapons and carry on as you normally would."

As if to emphasize how casually she wanted them to behave, she reached for her pack and slipped her arms through the straps. "When these bastards attack they won't expect us to be ready for them. Dorian, we're all going to need a barrier."

Pulling his staff into his lap, Dorian casually tilted it as he summoned the spell. There was a ripple of energy, a surge of power that cascaded down her body and made her hairs stand on end. Rolling her shoulders, Delani started to move toward the edge of camp, ready for the fun to begin, and felt the side of her mouth twitch at the sound of a dozen voices roaring a fierce battle cry.

An arrow zipped toward her, aimed to be buried in the flesh of her shoulder, but was deflected by Dorian's protective barrier. Humans ran into the clearing, bandits with heavy weapons storming the camp and into battle. They were met by force. Cassandra greeted them with a ferocious roar, pulling attention onto herself before stepping in front of Dorian and lifting her shield to protect him from incoming arrows.

Behind them, Varric was releasing a storm of bolts, stopping the bandits before they were able to flank the camp. Throwing down a smoke bomb, Delani faded into the battle and danced around, lithely moving through their attackers. Blood misted in the air as her daggers were met with throats, buried in chests, or sliced between vertebrae. With each step a life was taken, a bandit fell lifeless on the forest floor. But there were too many.

Despite Varric's best efforts, they were surrounded. The bandits had come in number and were prepared to be met with force. For every human that fell three more took his place. Delani searched for her companions on the battlefield. Cassandra was surrounded by half a dozen men, blood pouring from her hairline down the side of her face. Determination was fiery in her brown eyes. Dorian had summoned the dead to defend him. Bandits were fighting against their fallen brethren, trying to get to him before he tore them down with his magic. Varric was a blur, throwing down smoke bombs only to reappear out of range and take down more and more men with his crossbow.

Sweat and blood were falling from her companions. Delani had wanted them to be ready for an ambush, but she had not expected one of this magnitude. They fought tooth and nail for a foothold, to sway the tides of battle, but there were only four of them. Despite their skill, despite their teamwork, despite how hard they fought to cut down the enemy, there were just too many bandits.

A searing pain slashed through Delani's shoulder. She rolled forward, gritting against the pain of her injured shoulder hitting the ground. Untucking a throwing knife from her belt, she sent it flying into her assailant's eye socket. Four men came charging at her, swords drawn, ready for blood, and she reached for her grenade belt. She had one last bottle of Antivan Fire, she had to make it count. Gaze darting to where Cassandra was surrounded by even more men now, Delani pulled the grenade from her belt and threw it between the feet of Cassandra's attackers.

Delani's four pursuers were behind her now, swords swinging a hairs breath from her spine. Without warning, Delani fell onto her knees and lifted her arms with the blades of her daggers pointed backwards. Two bandits ran into her daggers, the sharp blades slashing through their femoral arteries and rolled back before the remaining two could retaliate with a swing of their blades. She freed another pair of throwing knives and sent them soaring into the back of the bandits' necks. The two men hit the ground with a thump.

When Delani was on her feet again it was to help Varric, who was currently using a bolt as a knife and burying it into eyes, ripping it out, into throats, pulling it free, into ears, only for another bandit to come at him for more once his last opponent was dead. She came skidding to a halt when a beast of a man stepped out in front of her, an enormous mallet slung casually over his shoulder as he stared down at Delani and laughed. Delani took in a sharp breath, assessing the situation.

If she engaged this monster in battle she would surely lose. He was twice her size and thicker than an elder tree. He would break every bone in her body with a single swing of that mallet and that would be the end of it. Delani did not have the stamina to fight him, she didn't have any bombs left, her throwing knives would do next to no damage. All she had was her speed, and that would only help her get away from him, it wouldn't help her fight.

Deciding that running was her only option, she twisted out of reach and ran across the battlefield. Delani's eyes searched the forest clearing for her companions, and her already racing heart flew into the pit of her gut. Cassandra was down with Dorian kneeling over her, his leg broken, blood spilling into his eyes, summoning his spells at a desperate and frantic pace.

_Where's Varric_, she searched the campsite, jumping over corpses as she tried to get within range of her other two companions. Delani couldn't find Varric. Was he already grounded? Was he dead? Her heart plummeted from her stomach to her toes, and Delani forced the thought from her mind. No, he wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead. They were going to make it out of this. She had gotten them out of worse. She would get them out of this too.

A bolt of electricity shot through Dorian's fingers as he sagged lower and lower to the ground, manna spent, energy fleeting. A soldier stepped up in front of the mage, blocking Delani's view of him. She reached for the belt where she kept her throwing knives only to find it empty. _Fenedhis!_

"Dorian!" she screamed, watching in horror as the bandit lifted his sword.

A pain jostled through her, starting at the back of her head before spreading through her skull like ink. One moment she was running toward Dorian, ready to throw herself onto the bandit to protect her friend, and the next her eyesight was completely blacked out. Delani felt herself fall to the ground, she felt her breath spilled from her lungs, she felt it as consciousness retracted from her body and sent her into a realm of shadows and nothingness.

* * *

Excitement sparked through him like shocks of static electricity. Delani was due to arrive any moment now and nearly everything was ready for her. There was only one last thing that he needed. Cullen descended the steps from the main hall to the undercroft. The mountain air was coldest here, even with Harritt's furnace constantly burning, ready to make whatever weapons Delani required.

The blacksmith had been surprised when it was Cullen who had commissioned him, even more so when he discovered what it was that Cullen wanted him to make. Harritt was a fine blacksmith and he crafted some of the sturdiest, well designed weapons and armor Cullen had seen. Cullen trusted no one else with this project, he only hoped that the smith had been able to finish before Delani returned from her travels.

"Hey, Commander!" Dagna happily greeted him, skipping from where she'd been standing near the crafting table to meet him at the bottom of the steps. The small dwarf woman grinned up at Cullen, eyes alight with an enthusiasm for life that was equal parts enviable and mildly grating.

Offering the stout woman a soft smile, he replied, "Greetings, Enchanter Dagna," and started to where Harritt was standing on the other side of the room.

She kept pace beside him, two steps for each one of his. "So, I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of improving your design for Inquisitor Lavellan's gift."

Cullen stopped short and turned to face the small woman. Features ironed out with distaste, he bit out, "You what?"

"I made it better," she lifted her hands in self defense. Gesturing to the other human man across the room, Dagna told him to, "Ask Harritt! Before it was functional, now it's fantastical."

Gruffly, Harritt joined their conversation on Dagna's behalf. "It's true, Commander. The dwarf knows how to work an enchantment into damn near anything. I'd say it was blood magic but she doesn't really have the talent for it."

Nodding that Cullen had heard the truth of it, she proudly pursed her lips and asked, "Have you ever heard higher praise come from that man's mouth?" Grinning, Dagna jumped up and down on her toes, her excitement was infectious. "The Inquisitor is going to love it! I'm so excited for her to see it! Can you bring her here? Can I watch her open it?"

Before he could answer any of Dagna's numerous questions, Harritt turned with a familiar, long wooden box in hand. There were elvish designs carved into the wood, branches and swirls, leafs and runes. The box's lid was carved with ancient Dalish text, words that Cullen didn't understand but Solas assured him was a prayer of protection to Mythal.

Cullen had offered to buy the box from Solas, but the apostate refused. Knowing what Cullen intended to do with it had made the male elf hand it over freely. "_If it helps to put your mind at ease, Commander, even I am a little in love with you right now,_" Solas had said, an approving smile on his lips as he parted with what was obviously a treasure.

As Cullen took the box from Harritt, the blacksmith admitted, "That there may not be one of my most complex pieces, but it is my favorite." Glancing to where Dagna was still vibrating with excitement, a hint of a smile edged the corners of his mouth. "You'll let us know how the Inquisitor likes it."

It wasn't a question, but Cullen nodded in answer regardless. "Of course," he also glanced at Dagna and the smile that spread over his lips was more pronounced than Harritt's. "I don't think our enchanter would let me get away without a detailed account of Lady Lavellan's reaction."

"Ancestors' hairy butt cheeks, I wouldn't," Dagna fervently agreed. "She's going to love it."

He sure hoped so. Cullen thanked both of them before leaving them in the undercroft and climbing the steps back to the main hall. Nervous excitement was coursing through him like current's of electricity, making him fidgety. He hoped that Delani would arrive soon, if only to get this over with so that he could finally see how she would like her gift.

She'd been gone from Skyhold for nearly a month. Three weeks and a day to be precise. She and her companions had left in search of supplies for the Inquisition, looking for lodging and mining sites where they could gather resources so that the Inquisition could continue to rebuild and expand.

Being without her had grown more and more unbearable by the day. Already Cullen was at his wits end, patience gone, anxiety through the roof, and his men could tell. They visibly relaxed when he walked past the training grounds without stopping, and gave him a wide berth when he stalked past. Messengers were quick to the point, presenting all the details without having to be asked for them, because should he ask they would have to suffer his ire. Delani's return was almost as much of a relief for the soldiers under his command as it was for him. At least with the Inquisitor back at Skyhold, their commander would have a decent distraction.

Once he was in the main hall, Cullen started for the atrium. He had promised to show Delani's surprise to Solas as payment for the wooden box. And, honestly, he was too excited to keep it to himself. Halfway down the hall, the door to the rotunda opened and Leliana quickly found him walking her way.

"Cullen," she said, a shadow in her eyes that immediately set him on edge.

Cullen's feet picked up in pace and he met her part way. The second Leliana was in earshot, he asked, "Is it the Inquisitor?"

She nodded curtly, the gesture grave, tearing his heart right out of his chest and ripping it in two. Before he could ask, she grabbed him by the arm and turned him around. They were heading for Josephine's office, to the war room. Whatever had happened demanded strategy, but right then Cullen didn't care. All he cared about was what in the Void happened to Delani.

"Leliana," he growled, not liking being left to wait, not when it came to Delani. "Tell me what happened."

She shook her head, resolute. Looking around at the nobles littering the main hall, she murmured, "Not here," under her breath and ushered him into Josie's office.

The Antivan woman was at her desk, rapidly scribbling on her parchment as she wrote to this delegate or that noble. She didn't immediately acknowledge their arrival until the tension emanating from Cullen in tsunami sized waves hit her. Looking up from her quill, she was met by the serious faces of the other two advisors. Looking from Cullen to Leliana, she reluctantly asked, "What happened?"

"Yes, Leliana, what happened?" Cullen demanded, crossing his arms in front of his chest and turning to face the spy master.

Without looking at him, Leliana handed him a piece of rolled up parchment. As he unrolled the paper to read what was written inside, she explained the message to Josie. "The camp west of Lake Calenhad was attacked."

Josephine gasped, pressing her fingers to her mouth as she shook her head in disbelief. "Isn't that where the Inquisitor last made camp?"

Cullen grit his teeth, fighting back the nausea quaking in his gut. He reread the message, the words making less and less sense with each recounting. The camp had been attacked, the Inquisitor and her team were ambushed, the soldiers stationed there had been killed. Cassandra, Dorian, and Varric had all sustained serious injuries but they were alive. His insides were twisting into knots, his stomach rolling, anxiety, desperation, paralyzing terror were all sharpening their nails on the lining of his stomach. The bodies of Inquisition soldiers and the bandits had all been identified. Delani was not among them. She was missing.

"She's gone," he crushed the parchment in his fist before punching the wall. His emotions were wild inside of him, ferocious. They could not be repressed, they would not be tampered down. Delani had been met with violence, attacked in the safety of camp, and Cullen's instincts demanded that he retaliate to the violence in kind. Someone had thought to take Delani, to harm her, and the cost of that mistake would be blood. He would find whoever was responsible for this, and he would kill them. He would get Delani back, he would protect her.

It wasn't until Leliana's voice broke through the thick wall of fury and panic that he realized that he had not stopped punching the wall. His knuckles were bleeding, probably broken, and he didn't care. When he pulled his fist from the wall, Cullen's hand was shaking, his entire body was convulsing with outrage and terror. Delani was missing, she'd been abducted, and he was doing nothing to find her.

"What do we know," he asked Leliana, leaving Josephine's office with rushed and determined strides. Staring down at the wooden box still held in his hand, Cullen clenched his eyes shut and refused to look at it again. It was meant for Delani, a surprise, but now it caused him to feel unbearable dread. What if she never got the chance to open the box? What if he never got the chance to tell her that he loved her?

Cullen was pleased that Leliana and Josephine were both quick on his heels, following him into the war room where they gathered around the table to strategize what their next move would be. Leliana set down a marker on the location of where the attacked camp was on the map. He set Delani's gift down on the table, trying to ignore it as he inspected the map and worried over what would happen next. The three advisors shared an apprehensive look before they set to work.

"I've already sent our best trackers to investigate the campsite and determine which direction the attackers went," Leliana stated with a seriousness about her that Cullen had only seen once before, after Divine Justina V's death, and he appreciated that she was taking this as seriously as he did. Holding her hands behind her back, she finished, "With any luck, we will be able to intercept them and rescue the Inquisitor."

It wasn't enough. Delani was alive, she _had _to be alive, and her life was in danger. They needed to pour every last one of their resources into finding her. Staring at the map, Cullen said, "We need to station checkpoints on every major highway and well traveled road. No one will pass between here and the Amaranthine Sea without our knowledge."

"I will send messages to every Bann, Tyrn, and city mayor asking that they lend us men and assistance with these checkpoints." Josephine looked from Cullen to Leliana before observing, "Word will spread that the Inquisitor is missing. People will know that we are at our weakest."

Eyes narrowing with dangerous outrage, Cullen growled, "It doesn't matter, Josephine. The only thing that matters is bringing Delani home!"

Leliana reached out to Cullen and placed a placating hand on his arm. When Cullen shrugged her off of him, her lips thinned and she assured him, "We _will_ bring her home, Cullen. But we have to find her first."

He scraped his nails through his hair and clasped his eyes tightly shut. A migraine was starting to take shape in his skull. Great, exactly what he needed on top of everything else. Irritably scratching the back of his head, Cullen stated, "I'm going to the camp. I need to hear from Cassandra and the others. I need to know exactly what happened."

When Josephine started to argue, "Cullen, I don't think that—" it was Leliana that cut her off.

"It is only a few hours travel, Josie. He needs to go." She looked at Cullen, holding his gaze, understanding shining in her blue eyes. Lifting her chin in a dismissing gesture, she said, "Go. Talk to them, find out what happened. Maybe it'll help us better understand who we are dealing with."

Cullen did not need to be told twice. Gathering the box from the war table's surface, he left the two women in the war room and headed for his office. He would stash Delani's gift before readying Delilah and leaving Skyhold. Urgency quickened his pace, panic narrowed his focus. Delani was missing. The love of his life was gone. She was alone and she was in danger. Cullen _needed_ to find her. He _needed_ to bring her home.

* * *

Pain throbbed through her cranium like waves crashing against a jagged cliffside. Delani's head rolled to the side and a soft groan escaped her. The pain was not only in her head, but in her shoulder as well. She hurt all over. Why did she hurt all over?

She could feel the earth move beneath her, could hear the steady clop of hooves scraping over the ground. Delani searched her mind for her most recent memory. The images came with some difficulty. The last thing she remembered was her camp being attacked. She and her team had been ambushed by bandits. Varric had been missing from the battlefield, Cassandra had been grounded, and Dorian had been on his knees on top of her, protecting her from the bandits. Her last memory was of a bandit stepping in front of Dorian and lifting his sword.

Urgency forced her eyes open, but she was met by darkness. Trying to blink the blackness from her eyes, panic started to form inside of her when her vision didn't return. Delani was blind. Creators, she had lost her eyesight. Swallowing down the panic that threatened to consume her whole, Delani tested the rest of her senses.

Trying to move her hands, she discovered that she was bound at the wrists. Her shackles were made of rope, not iron, which meant that even if the knots were tight she would be able to cut through them. Her ears twitched as she forced herself to listen. Upon the discovery of someone breathing over her shoulder, she realized that the warmth against her back was someone holding on to her as they rode. She was on a horse, secured against some bandit's chest, bound and blind but far from helpless.

Concentrating on the horse, Delani judged that they were moving at a casual pace, slow and steady. She felt the horse's hooves hit the ground, feeling the distance between the saddle and the earth beneath them. It was a standard breed, tall, but not overwhelmingly so. Testing her binds one more time, Delani formulated a plan.

She counted to ten, taking slow and steady breaths as she prepared herself for what would come next. When she got to ten, Delani threw her head back with enough force to break the nose of the man who had her pinned against him. Immediately his grip on her slackened, a surprised curse ripping through his throat as Delani launched herself from the horse. She landed on the ground with a roll, wincing at the sharp pain in her shoulder.

The moment that Delani's feet were on the ground she took off running. She couldn't see where she was going, she didn't know where she was, but she needed to put as much distance between her and these bandits as she could. With her bound hands held in front of her, Delani sprinted, stumbling over roots, her face and arms getting scratched up by low hanging tree branches. She got as far as a hundred feet before an arctic chill froze her muscles and held her in place.

Delani cursed. The bandits had a fucking mage. _Fenedhis_. She heard them as they dismounted their horses and started for her position. An authoritative voice shouted at the others, "The Inquisitor has the right idea. We should make camp."

She stayed frozen like that for some time, listening as the bandits moved around her, feeling the warmth of a fire being started, smelling the smoke waft over her. When finally the mage who had held her in winter's grasp snapped his fingers and freed her from her prison, Delani fell to her knees and was dragged some distance toward the camp fire.

She was unceremoniously thrown onto the ground. Her hair was tugged, her head pulled back as a sack was removed from her head. Delani let loose a sigh of relief at the discovery that she hadn't lost her eyesight. Being blind would have made escape much more difficult, and revenge even more so. With her eyesight restored she could properly teach these shemlan imbeciles why capturing her had been the singular worst mistake of their entire lives.

Delani looked around the camp, counting the bandits and locating their weapons. There were fifteen of them, probably the only survivors left after their ambush on her camp. Soon they would be reunited with the others in the afterlife. Delani just had to figure out how she was going to get free first.

There was a man casually lounging across the fire, staring at her as she examined the camp's every detail for later reference. There was a smirk on his lips, intelligence in his sharp blue eyes. Obviously, he was the one in charge of this soon-to-be-dead group of bandits. Good, she would save him for last.

When she had stored every detail she could about the camp and its inhabitants to memory, Delani moved her attention to the man across the fire. Even laying lazily as he was, it was easy to tell that he was a tall man. He was of medium build with minimal muscle definition in his exposed arms. His brown hair was combed back, and the beginnings of a beard warmed his jawline. He was tan, with warm brown undertones, the contrast to the blue of his eyes was startling. If the context of their meeting had been different, Delani might have called him handsome. Meeting his acquaintance the way that she had, however, allowed her to recognize the darkness in his eyes as malice, menace, and not roguish charm.

"So you're what all the fuss is about," he said, his accent was Ferelden. Eyeing her curiously, he shrugged his shoulders as though he were unimpressed by the sight of her. "You look like just another savage knife ear to me." He glanced over his shoulders to the other men loitering around the camp and wondered, "Doesn't she, boys?"

They made a series of agreeing noises before he returned his attention to Delani. Quirking a thick eyebrow, the man stated, "You have to be the most expensive rabbit in all of Thedas."

And he was the biggest idiot. He had better hope that Delani didn't get her hands on something sharp, because the moment she cut her hands free she was going to kill every last one of them.

The man sat up, a goading smile on his lips as he wondered, "What, got nothing to say?" A wicked smile carved over his mouth and he tilted his head as he made a suggestion. "How about an apology? You broke Wayne's nose. That wasn't very nice of you."

She felt the air shift behind her and cringed internally when a man lowered himself to his haunches and brought his mouth to her ear. There was a grin in his voice when he said, "I can think of a way you can make it up to me." He moved her hair over her shoulder exposing her neck to him, and Delani threw her head back again, knocking her skull into his already tender nose.

Wayne fell onto his ass behind her and Delani scowled at him over her shoulder. Pinning him with an infuriated glare, she warned, "Don't you fucking touch me."

The human pulled himself back upright before stomping back to where Delani was kneeling. Roughly gripping her by the back of the neck, he warned, "Bash your head into my face one more time, you knife ear bitch. I dare you."

Delani simply bared her teeth at him, showing the human how little he scared her. When Wayne released her with a shove, she caught herself before she fell face first into the dirt. Peering past the curtain of auburn hair at the bearded man across the fire, Delani wondered, "Who are you?"

"Oh, that's right. We skipped the introductions didn't we?" The man beat the heel of his palm into his forehead as if he were scolding himself for being so forgetful. A whimsical smile flashed over his lips as he regarded her and Delani was eager to rip it right off of his face. Placing a hand on his chest, the man started, "My name is Ayden McGregor, and these are the Faceless Few. You've already met Wayne, the others aren't really interested in getting friendly."

She ground her teeth as she eyed over Ayden. Delani had never heard of the Faceless Few. Thedas was full of small time criminals and mercenary bands. It was impossible to keep up with them all. It hardly mattered what these men decided to call themselves. They wouldn't survive the night, and then no one would remember their names.

"What do you want?" she asked, wondering why these men had captured her alive instead of just killing her with the others. Delani banished the thought. Cassandra, Varric, and Dorian were alive. They had to be alive. She didn't know what she would do if she'd gotten them killed. Delani would never forgive herself.

Ayden scratched his scruff, a lazy smile on his face as he answered her question. "I want what every man wants. To retire on a beach without a care in the world, surrounded by women and luxury." Smile growing, he pointed at Delani before explaining, "And _you_ are how I'm going to get that."

Leaning back on the bedroll behind him, he cradled his head in his hands and grinned at Delani. Quirking an inquisitive eyebrow, he asked, "Tell me, knife ear, who do you think will pay the most for you; your precious Inquisition, or the Venatori?"

So it was a ransom that they were after. These fools had thought to whisk her away into the night and hold her hostage in trade for payment. Delani shook her head, pitying these men for the fate they had volunteered upon themselves. Their first mistake was ambushing her camp. Their second mistake was killing her friends —_injuring_ her friends, they were still alive— and their biggest mistake was tying her up with rope. Rope could be cut through, all Delani needed was a knife.

"It doesn't matter," Delani said in answer to Ayden's question, shrugging to emphasize just how little his question had concerned her. "You're not going to see a single copper of that ransom money."

Ayden grinned, delighted by her spunk. "Oh?" he asked. "And why's that?"

She held his gaze as she supplied, "Because I'm going to kill every last one of you."

"That's some mighty big talk coming from someone in your position."

Shrugging, she rebuked, "I'm exactly where I want to be, shem." Dangerously narrowing her eyes, Delani allowed a wolfish grin to expand over her lips, watching as Ayden's eyes slightly widened at the sight of the promise in her gaze. "It'll make killing you a lot easier."

A laugh burst out of Ayden, heartfelt and amused. He wiped a tear from his eye as though Delani's promises of violent retaliation were nothing more than a joke to him. When his laughter subsided, he smiled at Delani and shook his head. "I don't think you fully appreciate the precariousness of your current position."

"And I don't think that you recognize that the only one in a precarious position is you."

Ayden lifted his gaze from Delani to the human that was still standing behind her. "Wayne," he said. "How would you like to show this knife ear the danger of making idle threats?"

There was nothing idle about Delani's threats. They were promises. These men were fools, and they were about to be dead. She was just biding her time until she found an opening, and then she was going to repay them for their hospitality, and she was going to find her way back to Skyhold where she would allow Cullen to help her forget that this night had ever happened.

Her heart lurched at the thought of Cullen. She wondered if word of her disappearance had reached him yet. She hoped not, she didn't want him to worry. As soon as she was done with these morons she would be back in his arms. They'd be together again and she would tell him that she loved him, not letting another day go by without saying the words. Delani would get the chance to tell him how she felt. She couldn't die without him knowing.

Behind her, Wayne excitedly shuffled his feet as he answered Ayden's question. "I'd like that very much, McGregor."

Ayden vaguely gestured at Delani with a wave of his hand and the instructions, "Have at it, my friend. She's all yours."

Delani braced herself as Wayne circled around her. His feet were the first thing that came into view and her gaze stopped at his belt at the sight of the knife tucked safely at his waist. She fought back a grin. This idiot. She prepared herself for his assault, readied her body for the pain that was about to come. When the human grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled his arm back, she held her arms up between them as though asking for mercy.

She knew that this beast would show her no mercy, it wasn't what she had been after in the first place. The second that Wayne's fist made contact with her face her vision flashed white and pain exploded through her cheek. He had likely broken her cheekbone. Delani tried her best to ignore the pain, bracing herself for his second punch. With her fingers on his belt, the second that his fist came powering down on her face, the force of his attack helped her to pull the knife free from its sheath.

Before he, or the many onlookers, could notice what she'd done, Delani tucked the knife into the space between her wrists. A smile finally broke free over her lips. Wayne could beat her bloody, but it wouldn't save him. He was going to be the first one to die, and it was going to be slow and painful. She would repay him for this, Delani would repay him seven times over.


	19. Chapter 19

"Tell me what happened," Cullen demanded as he stood in front of Delani's wounded companions.

Cullen had led a small platoon of soldiers, accompanied by Iron Bull, to the campsite where Delani had last been seen. They had been met by death, bodies of bandits and a few Inquisition soldiers were strewn about. The battle that had taken place here was hard fought. Everywhere he looked he could see evidence of Delani's skills as a rogue.

The grass was charred by Antivan fire, broken glass from smoke bombs and healing potions littered the campsite. Many of the bodies had fatal puncture wounds or slashed arteries. Delani fought smart and she fought hard, it came as no surprise to him that she had taken down as many bandits as she had.

Iron Bull had rushed to Dorian the moment that they dismounted, hurrying to the mage to check him over and feel for himself that he was alive and would be fine. Cullen envied him for it. How he longed to hold Delani, to look into her sea green eyes and see for himself that she was alright. But he couldn't, and it was killing him. Not knowing if she was even still alive hurt more than a blade to the heart. Cullen had to find her. He had to get her back.

Cassandra, Varric, and Dorian were bandaged and splinted, an arm cradled in a sling here, a crutch to help support their weight there. They were a mess, and Cullen was relieved that they had survived the encounter at all. That relief did not fracture his worry for Delani. She was missing and he had to find her. Cullen needed all the information that they could give him.

He was standing in front of Dorian, who was currently being treated to a protective shoulder rub from Iron Bull. Dorian's leg was in a splint, broken, and his bare chest was bruised and bandaged. There was a long gash on his hairline that had received stitches, and Cullen knew that Dorian would curse the scar it left behind until the end of time.

"It was dawn and we were preparing to return to Skyhold," Dorian started, dragging a hand down the side of his face as he recalled the events leading up to Delani's capture. He looked exhausted. There were dark half moons under his eyes and his hair was unkempt. If Bull had any sense he would make sure that Dorian did not get his hands on a mirror.

Rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes, Dorian continued with his account of what had happened to them. "We were discussing Cassandra's lack of a love life," his explanation was interrupted by the distasted growl that came from the Seeker, and a smile edged the corner of Dorian's mouth. Still holding Cullen's gaze, Dorian carried on, "when Delani sensed the ambush coming. Her ears did that strange twitchy elf thing before she ordered us to prepare for an attack."

"That's when we were overwhelmed," Cassandra added, taking the reins of the explanation so that Cullen could have a militarized version of the account. "They came in number. We bested them in skill but they swarmed down on us like insects." She answered his next questions before Cullen could give voice to them. "They had no identifying markers, nor any particular skill in combat. The only thing that they had were their numbers. They flanked us and closed in on us until they had a hold of the Inquisitor. The second they had her, the attack stopped and they pulled back."

There was a boulder weighing down in the pit of Cullen's gut. "They came for her," he stated, dread coursing through him like ink, blackening him, destroying him. He swallowed down his rage, wrangled down his growing panic, and instead focused on his purpose. Cullen had to investigate the attack so that he could better understand the attackers and try to predict what their next move would be.

"It sure does look that way, Curly," Varric muttered, looking about as distraught as Cullen felt. All of Delani's companions appeared to be angry and upset over the abduction of their leader. These bandits had stolen something precious from them, and they would pay for that crime with their lives.

Cullen ground his teeth, trying to stave off the tempest of emotions roaring inside of him, but he was failing. His overwhelming anger, his petrifying fear, his unbearable despair were tearing him apart limb from limb and he could feel the turmoil expanding inside of him until it threatened to burst out of him in an explosion of the messiest kind.

He started pacing, his face buried in his hands as he rubbed at his features. He had started walking so that he could better work out the onslaught of emotions raging inside of him. Instead, his every step seemed to stoke the flames, prod the hearth until he had no more control over his feelings or how they came out of him.

"How did this happen?" Cullen demanded, his tone low, dangerous, a growl that could rival that of a wild animal. He stopped pacing and sharply turned on his heel. Glaring at Delani's three companions, he angrily asked, "How did you allow this to happen?"

Varric and Dorian shared a glance, and Cassandra set her jaw. Lip pulling into a sneer, the Seeker corrected him, "We didn't _allow_ anything. We were ambushed and overwhelmed, there was nothing that we could do."

Eyes narrowing into daggers, Cullen seethed, "Did you even try?"

It was Dorian who answered him, insulted, infuriated. "No. We just let ourselves almost be killed for the fun of it. Didn't we?" He turned to the others, inviting them to join him in his ire. "Wasn't nearly dying just _so much_ fun?"

Iron Bull's grasp tightened protectively on Dorian's shoulders. He impaled Cullen with a dangerous look, a warning vibrating in the undercurrents of his voice as he rumbled, "Back off, Commander."

"We fought as best and as long as we could, Cullen," Cassandra assured him, understanding in her brown eyes even if her expression was disapproving. "The Inquisitor's abduction pains us just as badly as it does you. She is our friend and our leader, and we want her back just as much."

Breathing heavily, Cullen tried to put a cap on his emotions. He could not let them rule him, he could not let them guide him. Delani's life very well depended on him keeping a level head. Dragging his hands through his hair, he sucked in one deep breath after the other until his rage no longer clouded his mind. Once he could think clearly again, Cullen sighed and straightened himself back out.

To Dorian and the others, he apologized, "Forgive me. Knowing that Lady Lavellan is in danger is…" terrifying, sickening, overwhelming, unbearable, unacceptable. Cullen settled on, "difficult. I did not mean to take out my frustrations on all of you."

Varric shrugged, unfazed by Cullen's accusation and quickly accepting of his apology. Allowing a supportive smirk to curl the corner of his mouth, the dwarf sympathized, "We get it, Curly. But Scarlett is fine, and we'll find her before you know it."

"And once we do, we are going to make those bastards pay," Dorian agreed, resolute and cocksure like he always was in regards to the things he believed in wholeheartedly.

Before Cullen could reply with his gratitude for their support and sympathy, his attention was pulled to the tree line. One of Leliana's scouts emerged from between the trees. The spy master had assured Cullen that the elf was a tracker of great skill. When their eyes met, the elf woman waved Cullen over and he immediately excused himself from the conversation.

Running to where the tracker was standing, Cullen asked, "What did you find?" He hoped that it was something solid, something that they could use to find Delani faster.

The elf woman looked up at him with her large brown eyes, her expression was serious and unreadable. Gesturing for him to follow her, she stepped back into the forest and pointed his attention to the ground. "There are tracks, fifteen pairs by my count, none belonging to an elf."

He looked up from the forest floor to meet the tracker's gaze. Wordlessly, he demanded to know what that meant. If Delani had no tracks, did that mean that she wasn't with the bandits? If she wasn't with the bandits, then where was she?

"If she was in the same shape as her companions, she was likely unconscious," the tracker observed, helping Cullen to visualize what had happened to Delani. "The Inquisitor was probably carried to their mounts."

His stomach twisted at the thought of someone else's hands on Delani, especially someone who had hurt her to the point of unconsciousness. When Cullen found these bandits they were going to pay with their lives. The price of hurting his beloved was blood, all of it, and Cullen was going to collect.

The tracker guided him further into the forest, her eyes on the tracks as she carefully walked beside them. Without looking up to meet his gaze, she pointed in the direction the tracks were headed. "They're going north, by the looks of it." Returning her attention to Cullen, she gave him a curt nod and assured him, "We'll start following the tracks at first light. A group that large travels slow and stops often. We'll catch them, Commander."

He didn't want to wait until first light, Cullen wanted to start searching for Delani right that very second. But he knew that they needed to be able to see the tracks in order to follow them. Right now they had to focus on collecting their dead and injured and returning them to Skyhold. He had to write letters to the soldiers families. He had to make sure that Dorian, Varric, and Cassandra were properly tended to by healers. And then, the second that the sun broke over the horizon, Cullen would help track down the bandits and bring Delani home.

* * *

The ground was cool beneath her, her eyes shut as she listened to the night. Cicadas serenaded the darkness, nocturnal creatures creeping about as the fire died down. One by one all of McGregor's men had succumbed to sleep. There was likely to be one or two men keeping guard, but snores filled the clearing, heavy and even breaths letting her know that the others were asleep.

Slowly, she opened her eyes to find that the campfire had dwindled in size, casting a weak glow over the campsite. Delani set her jaw and ignored the pain that the action caused her. Wayne's beating had definitely broken her cheekbone, and it might have loosened a tooth or two in the back of her mouth. The right side of her face was swollen to the point of nearly sealing her eye shut completely. And Delani was next to positive that her nose was broken. She'd tend to her injuries later. First, she had to cut out of these ropes and then teach these bandits the error of their ways.

Carefully untucking the knife from where she'd hidden it between her bound wrists, Delani started to saw through the rope. She worked slowly, soundlessly, watching the sleeping bandits for any signs that they were about to wake. Once she felt the rope slacken against her wrists, she pulled her hands free and draped the rope over the back of her neck. Now she had two weapons against these fools. Tonight there would be blood. But first, she needed use of both of her eyes.

Delani brought the knife to the swollen side of her face. Pressing the pointed end to the corner of her eyebrow, Delani pressed down on the puffed up skin and winced as she dragged the knife down in a half circle and stopped at her broken cheekbone. Blood oozed from the laceration, seeping from the cut like a bitter wine from a broken cask. She sealed her lips shut and tightened her throat, stopping herself from making any noises that could potentially wake the sleeping bandits.

Once enough blood had drained from her face, and Delani could see from her right eye again, she set out to work. She pulled her necklace out from under her collar and peered down at the worn coin. Sending a prayer to Mythal, Delani begged the goddess for protection so that she might see her love again. Her second prayer went to Elgar'nan, the All-Father and god of vengeance. May he guide her hands tonight and cover them with the blood of her enemies.

She pressed a kiss to the coin, pretending for a moment that it was Cullen she was kissing, and tucked it back under her collar. When she opened her eyes again it was with relief to find that all of the bandits were just as she'd left them, sleeping. Crouching low to the ground she inspected the campsite, carefully scanning over each bandit as they slept. All the way at the edge of camp, almost completely out of the dim campfire's reach, a single lookout stood his post. A smile inched over her lips, she would deal with him first.

As angry as she was with these _shemlan_, Delani wasn't looking for a fight. There were too many of them and all she had was a knife and a rope. If she had her daggers and some grenades, then maybe she would have felt more inclined to just unleash her vengeance upon them like a hailstorm of fire and horror. At the moment, all Delani could do was sneak around the camp and hope that none of these imbeciles were light sleepers.

She rounded the camp, her footfalls were silent, her breathing was even, and the knife was ready in her grasp. This was not her father's knife, a knife that had seen her through countless struggles and filled her with comfort. This was a stranger's knife, used for things she couldn't even begin to imagine. It seemed fitting that she would use it to kill the group who had killed her friends. _No_, she shoved the thought away. They were alive. They had to be alive. She couldn't fail them too.

The lookout was whistling quietly to himself, picking the leaves off of a low hanging branch and folding them in half before tearing them down the middle. Delani almost felt sorry for the man, this was hardly fair. He was easily distracted and a terrible lookout, and it was going to cost him. Luckily for him, Delani was feeling gracious. She wasn't going to make him suffer.

Coming up behind him, Delani stalked toward like a wildcat ready to pounce. The moment that she was close enough, she lunged forward and covered his mouth with her hand. The sound of his surprise was muffled in her hand, soon to be accompanied by the sound of his death. As Delani secured his movements she stabbed the knife into his side, repeatedly punching the blade through his ribs and into his liver, his kidney, his lung, until he was no longer able to hold up his own weight. The bandit slumped forward and Delani eased him onto the ground, careful to keep him from making a sound.

Good. The one man that had been awake was dead, which meant that the rest of these idiots were free for the picking. The grin that carved its way across her mouth was wolfish. Time to have some fun.

She creeped back into camp, her every movement slow and calculated. Not a single twig broke under the pressure of her weight, not a single leaf crunched announcing her position. Delani had been a hunter too long to make such amateur mistakes. She knew how to take a life, and she knew how to be merciful about it. It was fortunate for these bastards that she was going to show them a mercy they didn't show her or her companions. They deserved pain, Delani would give them justice instead.

The first man she came upon was snoring loudly, his jaw hanging open and drool dripping out of the corner of his mouth. Delani kneeled beside him, watching him for a moment as he slept. She wondered if he had a family, a wife and children. Was that why he'd agreed to join up with these Faceless Few and abduct her for a ransom? Was he trying to provide for his family? Delani shook away the thoughts. She was the Inquisitor and he had thought to sell her off to the Venatori, the very people who wanted to destroy the world as they knew it. He was a fool, and Thedas could stand to lose a few more fools.

She plunged the knife into the side of the bandit's neck, her movement's quicksilver. When she pulled the blade out blood began to spurt from the wound like water from a geyser. The man's eyes shot open but he was unable to make a sound. He pressed his hand to his neck, trying to stop the blood flow, but there was nothing that he could do. Delani waited with him, holding his gaze as she watched the life drain from his wide eyes. With her eyes she apologized that it had to come to this. Hopefully he would find peace in the afterlife. Perhaps his Maker would welcome him to his side. Somehow, Delani doubted it.

Once the bandit was dead, she moved on to the next. It was a quick death sentence, painless for the most part. The bandit had felt fear, for sure, but the incision itself was quick and made while he was unconscious. He had felt the blood drain from his body and pool underneath him. He had felt the cold grip of death caress his limbs. He had been afraid, but he had not suffered. Delani would give his friends the same mercy.

She repeated the process several more times. Coming to kneel over a bandit, she would bury the knife into the side of their neck and pull it out. Their eyes would shoot open, wide and desperate as they searched for the cause of the disturbance in their slumber. They would find her beside them, watching, and they would search her features as though she were an angel of death. Mouths slack and searching for breath, they would gasp and pant, and sometimes Delani would have to cover their mouths to keep them from making a sound. But she would sit with them and keep them company while they passed. They did not die alone, but they _had_ to die.

Ten bandits she had already killed that way. Only five remained. When Delani stepped up to the next one it was to find Wayne snoring loudly. Anger burst forth inside of her, flames licking at her flesh. He had beaten her. She had been bound and defenseless and he had beaten her until she was broken and bloody. He did not deserve mercy. Delani would not grant him the kindness she had shown his peers. Wayne would suffer, and she would watch gladly as the life was violently sucked from his eyes.

Removing the rope from her neck, Delani stood over him, one foot on either side of him, and wrapped the rope once around each of her hands until it was taut in front of her. She fell onto her knees and quickly looped the rope around Wayne's neck. With her knees on his shoulders Delani pinned him to the ground as she tightened the rope around Wayne's throat.

His eyes flew open and he gasped for breath. Lips pulling back into an animalistic sneer, Delani tugged the rope tighter still, until she felt his trachea give under the pressure. Wayne clawed at the rope, trying to loosen it around his neck. It was too tight, he couldn't get his fingers between the rope and his neck, instead his nails clawed at his skin and left furious red scratches behind. Upon realizing that the rope would not loosen as long as Delani held it, he reached for her.

Delani pressed down on his shoulders with all of her weight. It was a position he would not be able to easily get out of. Her knees on his arms made it difficult for him to reach for her properly, and her being so far up his torso made him unable to use his legs against her. Wayne could have pushed her off of him if he wasn't panicking. But he was, which only meant that he was going to die faster.

Wayne's beady eyes were wide now, holding hers with anger, hatred, and fear as each fruitless gasp was met by failure. His struggles were violent and loud, all that remained of the camp was probably awake now, but Delani couldn't pull her glare from Wayne's. She wanted to watch as the light in his eyes dimmed. She wanted to feel his struggles weaken. Delani wanted him dead for what he'd done to her.

The sound of someone shouting dimly registered in the back of her mind. The words were hushed behind the sound of blood pumping loudly in her ears. It was only when she felt a powerful pulse of energy shove her off of Wayne that she finally heard Ayden McGregor shout, "I said stop!"

Ayden was the mage who had frozen her in place before, she finally realized. Delani should have guessed. He had a certain way about him that screamed "newly free Circle mage" that was easy to discern under his bravado.

She'd landed some distance away from Wayne with a mouth full of dirt and painfully hitting her cut and broken cheek on the ground. Delani started to pick herself back up with a groan but, before she could fully gather her bearings, she was flipped onto her back.

Wayne was looming over her, the rope loose around his neck. Fury was bright in his bloodshot eyes, hatred burned off of his surface like heat from a fire. He was on top of Delani in an instant, before she had time to crawl away or fight him off. Upper lip pulled back into a snarl, Wayne wrapped both of his large, calloused hands around her throat and squeezed.

"So you like to play choking games, you knife ear bitch?" he rasped, his voice hoarse and breathy in wake of her failed assault. "It's a damn good thing that I've woken up with a hankering for rabbit."

His hands were so tight around her neck. Delani gasped for breath but not a single sliver of oxygen was able to make it past him crushing her throat. She scratched at his arms, tearing the flesh to ribbons as she fought to loosen his hold. Wayne was so much bigger than her, so much stronger. It didn't matter how hard she bucked or how furiously she fought him. He weighed down on her like a boulder and she was not going to be able to get him off of her.

Lack of oxygen was quickly making her light headed. Delani could feel her struggles weakening, could see the black creeping around the edges of her vision. Still she fought with everything she had left in her. She had to get Wayne off of her. She had to stop him from doing this. Delani had to free herself from these bandits. She had to find her way back to Skyhold. She needed to return to Cullen most of all. She couldn't die without him knowing. Delani could not slip from this life into the next without telling him that she loved him.

The grin on Wayne's face was the most disturbing thing she had ever seen in her entire life. And it was going to be the last thing that she ever saw. She was going to die here, surrounded by bandits, farther away from her friends and family than she could ever be, without the comfort of Cullen's warmth to help calm her. This was the end. And he didn't know.

_Ma'arlath, vhenan'ara._

* * *

"_Kill them all!" Her eyes were wild as she swung her great sword in a wide arch, pointing at all the mages she'd just demanded an execution for. The blade glowed red, tainted lyrium pulsing with a song of malice and death, coated with the blood of a hundred innocent lives that had not deserved their fate. _

_Meredith was covered in the blood of her charges. Crimson soaked her white blond hair, matting it around her face. Blood was smeared over her pale skin like war paint, bringing color to her eyes that were wide with madness. _

_Cullen looked around at those that were to be executed. They were children who had just come to their power, innocents who had done nothing wrong to deserve such a punishment. They were people covered in blood splatter that the Knight-Commander had spilled. None of these wide eyed magelings had truck with demons. None of them had dabbled in blood magic. The only one spilling blood, reveling in chaos, was Meredith and the Templar Order._

_His gaze fell to his own hands and he gasped. His gauntlets were stained with blood. Fresh and wet crimson dripping from his hands like water. Cullen ripped them off only to find that his bear hands were still painted red. He was a part of this madness, he had helped lead the slaughter. _

_Searching his Knight-Commander's face, Cullen shouted, "We must stop this, Meredith!" Cullen was desperate. He had taken more lives than he had ever helped. He had made an oath to Andraste and the Maker, he had made a vow to himself and the Circle. And he had failed all of them. What kind of man did that make him? It didn't, he realized, it made him a monster._

"_We will stop when they are all dead!" Meredith returned, running an unharrowed mage through with her hellish blade. She kicked the mage off of her sword and swung, hacking another in two. Her laughter was maniacal, insane. When she saw that Cullen had not joined her in her massacre, she whipped toward him and seethed, "I order you to kill every last one of them."_

_He took a retreating step back, shaking his head, trying to reason with a woman so clearly out of her mind. "They have done nothing wrong, Knight-Commander. We are sworn to protect—"_

"_The innocent," she agreed with a devilish laugh. "And we are!" Meredith bellowed before slaying another mage, grinning as his blood spattered over her face and coated her armor. _

_Returning her attention to Cullen, she grinned. "We are cleansing the world of these vermin cursed with magic. They are haunted by spirits and demons and it is our duty to protect the world from them. We _must_ kill them all!"_

"_No!" Cullen shouted back, refusing to believe that that was what he had sworn himself to. He would not believe that that was what the Templar order stood for. It was supposed to be more. He was supposed to be better than all of this. Thirteen year old Cullen would have been horrified with the man that he had become._

_Cullen shook his head as he backed away from this grisly scene. He could take no part in this madness. He could not accept that he ever had. "This is not what we do."_

"_It should be," his Knight-Commander rebuked. Her pale eyes flashing with something sinister, something terrible, something inhuman. Suddenly Cullen knew that it was not the mages that he should have feared. "Don't you remember what happened to you at Kinloch Hold? Don't you remember what they are capable of?"_

_He did remember. Not a day went by that Cullen didn't remember how horrible it was to watch his friends, his comrades get tortured and die. Everyday he remembered how he had begged the Maker for deliverance, but it had come in the shape of a Dalish elf. The Warden had believed that the Circle could be saved, that the lives of the mages were worth preserving. At the time he could not have disagreed more. She had not seen what he'd seen. She had not suffered as he had suffered. _

_But time and contemplation had soothed his anger. Cullen no longer saw the underlying threat in every mage he encountered. Not everyone was toying with blood magic. Most of them could resist the alluring whispers of demons. They didn't need to be feared. They didn't deserve to be slaughtered. For all the dangers they threw onto the laps of mages, the only one he saw murdering innocents was Meredith. _

"_Whatever they are capable of," Cullen started, eyes narrowing with anger and betrayal. She was his commander. She was his mentor. Meredith was supposed to guide him, help him, care for his wellbeing. Instead she had nurtured his hatred and his anger. She had turned him against his charges and blinded him to their suffering, suffering that he had helped inflict. Meredith was a monster and he was no better. But he did not have to go along with this madness any longer._

_Taking a step toward the Knight-Commander he finished, "The only threat I see to the lives of innocents is you."_

_Her lip pulled back into a disgusted and disappointed sneer. Lowly, she replied, "Then you will die with them," before plunging her great sword into his chest. _

_A gasp tore through him as Cullen fell to his knees. His gaze dropped to the blade embedded inside of his chest. He stared at it in confusion, bewildered by the burning pain of his blood spewing from his chest. He coughed and blood fell from his mouth. When Cullen forced his head back so that he could look his Knight-Commander in the eyes, it was to find that they were completely blackened._

"_You have failed, Cullen. You will only ever fail. Try though you might, your destiny cannot be changed." Meredith ripped her sword free and he fell back to the ground. Blood pooled around him, his life seeping from his body._

"No!" Cullen shouted, shoving himself from the dark grasp of the nightmare's hold. Pain shot through his head, and it felt like someone was using a butcher's knife to stir up his brain. He buried his face in his hands, his fingers in his hair as he dragged one deep breath after the other into his lungs. His body was shaking violently, his muscles spasming, and his body was coated with a thick layer of sweat.

It took several minutes for him to calm himself back down. The last of his heavy exhales left him with a shudder, and Cullen felt himself settle back into his body and the realm of reality where he resided. Dragging his hands through his hair, he tried to banish the lingering images from his mind, he tried to shake off the look of murder in Meredith's soulless and blackened eyes.

She had not lost her mind until the end, he reminded himself. Meredith had been a good woman in life, she had been a good Knight-Commander. Yes, she had been paranoid, stern, and unbending, but she had led her men well and tried to do her best. It wasn't until she'd been touched by red lyrium that she'd lost her way. No one was perfect. He was even less so.

When Cullen pulled his face from his hands it was to find himself seated at his desk. He must have fallen asleep while trying to get some work done. It wasn't surprising that the dreams had come with vengeance. His worry for Delani was consuming him whole, making it difficult for him to hold the protective wall he typically had, to keep the worst of the nightmares at bay.

Pulling himself out of his chair with a groan, Cullen rolled his shoulders and stretched out his back. He threw a glance over his shoulder to check if he had slept through the night, but found that darkness still prevailed over the sky. It was still evening. He knew that he should try to get some sleep but, after that dream, the very thought made his stomach uneasy.

He would go to the war table and contemplate where the bandits were taking Delani. When morning came he would go with the tracker and a squadron of men, and they would find the Inquisitor and bring her home. He would take care of her and show her how much he had worried about her, how her absence had terrified him, and now much he loved her. Cullen _would_ get the chance to tell her he loved her. The Maker could not deny him that.

Cullen started for the door that would lead him to the rotunda only for another door to burst wide open. A flash of sickly pale skin and patchwork clothing stormed into the room. Cole's eyes were wide, his features were haunted.

Cullen's initial reaction was irritation. How many times had he already told the lad that he could not simply drop in unannounced trying to 'unknot the hurt' inside of Cullen? Yet still the boy persisted, talking in that tranced way of his, speaking in half sentences and descriptive thoughts.

"Cole, you can't just—" he started, only for his words to be cut off by the young man.

"_Angry eyes staring down at me. Revenge begets revenge begets revenge. His hands are tight around my neck, nails like knives in my skin." _Cole was standing in front of Cullen, looking at him but seeing something else entirely. His mind was in a distant place, in someone else's head, and that person was suffering. It wasn't until Cole continued with the reading that Cullen realized who the boy was linked to, whose dying mind he was stuck inside.

"_Creators don't let this be it. I'm not ready. He doesn't know."_

Cullen shook his head. Grabbing Cole by the shoulders he demanded, "Is it Delani, Cole? Is someone hurting her?" His heart fell into his stomach like a dead weight. If Cole was feeling her now, if she was thinking those thoughts it was because… No. Maker, no, she wasn't. She couldn't be. "Tell me, Cole!" He shook the boy, desperate for answers, but Cole wasn't in his body. He was in Delani's

Voice low and steady, nearly melodic in his incantation, Cole continued, "_His hair is like gold, strands of silk, stalks of wheat in fields I will never own. Amber eyes shine with what? I hope it's love, please let it be love. Vhenan'ara, forgive me, you will never know how much I love you. Vhenan'ara… I… _Gone."

His knees buckled. His mind blanked. His heart shattered, and Cullen was destroyed. Hammering a fist to the floor, a roar ripped out of him as his grief consumed him to his entirety. Pain shot through his veins, worse than any kind he had ever felt before in his life. Cullen would have preferred death over this agony. He would rather die a thousand times over than be forced to live in a world that Delani was not a part of.

Ragged breaths clawed in and out of him, each one more difficult than the last. His throat was tight, he couldn't breathe. How could he breathe, how would he ever be able to breathe again when Delani no longer had that privilege? How was he more worthy of life than her? Why her? Why had the Maker taken her from him? Hadn't He taken enough already?

"No!" Cullen sobbed, his entire body convulsing. Rocking himself back and forth, tears racked through him, ripping him apart from the inside out. "No, no, no, no, no…"

He had survived so much throughout his life. The Ferelden Circle, Kirkwall, Haven, but he _would not_ survive this. He didn't want to.


	20. Chapter 20

Song birds happily chirped to the yellow light of day, skipping along the branches as they trilled joyful melodies. Rays of gold broke through the forest canopy like fingers tickling the earth's surface, illuminating the forest with its warmth, giving life to the plants and animals that called it home. A light breeze flowed through the trees, carrying with it the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle. It was a delightfully cool breath that kept the forest at a pleasant temperature.

Delani sucked in a deep breath through her nose, letting her eyes slide shut as she enjoyed the peacefulness of it all. What a lovely forest, what a lovely day, it was so nice to catch a reprieve from all the fighting and war. A smile fanned over her lips and she slowly opened her eyes. Tilting her head back, she stared at the warm light as it caressed its way through the leaf covered branches.

Laughing in delight, she looked around at the perfection that surrounded her. Butterflies and bees rode the wind currents and landed on nearby flowers, whose petals were dotted by dew drops. Her bare feet were embraced by cool moss and dry leaves. It was a curious contradiction that tickled her toes and made her smile brighter. What a wonderful place. Why did she not recognize this forest? Surely she had seen it before.

A feeling of contentment vibrated through her, a lighthearted energy filling her with peace. And still, despite the perfection of it all, there was a nagging feeling persistent in the back of her mind. Whispers of urgency picked at her sense of calm, pinching her with impatience. Delani brushed the feeling away. She had endured enough fighting and war to last a lifetime, she wanted to enjoy this peace for as long as she could. Maybe even forever. She couldn't remember what was so worth fighting for anyway.

_Him_.

The sharp pain of that thought was like a knife in her heart and Delani was quick to shove it away. She could not understand the senses of loss, panic, or urgency that had overcome her with the thought, and she didn't want to. Not while she was here. Not when this forest was too perfect for feelings such as those.

Her attention was pulled up at the sound of twigs softly snapping in half. Some distance away, standing amidst a bed of blood lotus was a stag more handsome than she had ever seen. His coat was a reddened mahogany and flecked with gold, covering strong muscles that shifted and tightened as he came to a stop at the edge of the trees. Antlers branched out from his skull, thick and strong, beautiful and threatening. They were weapons and a work of art all in one. The deer's eyes were blacker, deeper, stronger than obsidian, constellations and the cosmos hidden in their depths. There was an otherworldly intelligence to the creature, an understanding that needed no language.

They stared at one another for a moment, Delani in amazement, the stag in curiosity. The beast's nostrils flared as he sniffed the air, catching her scent. His ears twitched, waving back and forth as though it were trying to make sense of her. All Delani could do was gawk at the marvelous creature. He was a gorgeous beast, strong and stunning, and she didn't want to do anything to scare him off.

When he let out a heavy exhale and shook himself out, she grinned at the grace of him. The stag looked Delani in the eyes and held her gaze for a moment. She could feel him searching her, reading her, peering into the very depths of her soul. Satisfied with whatever it was he found, the stag turned around and started the way he came. He peered back at her, his desires clear in his bottomless black eyes.

_Come_.

He started to leave and Delani followed after him. There was something about the stag that drew her in, that evoked her trust. He was a friend and he meant her no harm. Where he went, she would follow. They strolled between the trees for a little while, the deer quietly guiding her through the brush and Delani contentedly trailing behind him.

The stag ducked his head under some low hanging branches, keeping his antlers from getting caught in the leaves, and entered the clearing just past the wall of greenery. Delani moved the branches and stepped underneath them, welcoming the warmth of the undulated daylight. She had to lift her arm to block the sudden brightness of the sunlight. Blinking until her eyes adjusted, when she lowered her arm it was to intake a sharp, surprised breath.

A man stood center in the clearing, stroking the stag's neck as the two shared a silent communication. He was taller than her by several inches, with the muscle structure of a hunter who was not yet out of his prime. His skin was dark like wet cherrywood, smattered with constellations of freckles on every exposed plane of skin. Hair red like fire was braided away from his face, giving a clear view of the crimson colored _vallaslin_ honorific to the goddess Andruil. Chestnut colored eyes parted from the stag's obsidian gaze and moved to where Delani stood frozen at the tree line. A smile carved his lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes, and her heart lurched at the staggering familiarity of it.

Confusion, fear, elation, trepidation, joy, a whirlwind of emotions stormed through her as she held the male elf's gaze. Her knees were knocking with the force of her shaking legs. She tried to take a step forward, a single breathless word spilling past her parted lips, "_Papae_," before she fell to her knees. Tears welled before her eyes, disbelief swallowing her to her entirety as she stared unblinkingly at her father.

The stag huffed, words without language communicated to her father before he left them both in the clearing. Her father's gaze was on Delani as the deer departed, not breaking eye contact for a moment. The grin on his lips was wide, paternal, proud, as he said, "_Da'mi._"

He started for her and Delani picked herself off of the ground. Without a thought to how this was possible, Delani's only concern was relearning the feel and smell of the man she had thought lost to her forever. She ran into her father's ready arms and buried her face in his chest. Squeezing her arms around his neck, Delani breathed him in and the tears finally fell from her eyes. He smelled of pine and wood polish, the familiarity of it tore her in two. Creators, she had missed that smell.

"_Da'mi, emma asha. Ma da'enansal._" He murmured into her hair, holding her just as tightly as she was holding him. Her father was a rock, an anchor, securing her to him as she weathered the torrent of emotions storming inside of her. His strong hands rubbed her back and brushed through her hair, he touched her with a fatherly affection that she had missed beyond description.

"_Papae_," she started, finally managing to grapple use of her tongue enough to formulate language. Pulling slightly away from him, Delani searched his soft brown eyes as she stammered, "I-I don't— How is this… you're supposed to be… I saw you… I held you as you…"

Realization and understanding finally dawned upon her. Delani's gaze moved from her father's face and back onto the forest that encompassed them. The tall trees reached toward the heavens with leafy fingers hungry for its warmth. Never in her life had she ever stepped foot in a forest so perfect, and she had walked through many lovely woods. The temperature was too perfect, the light too pure, the forest too peaceful. Nature was beautiful, but she was deadlier still. Delani knew that well enough to recognize that such perfection could not exist in the realm of the living. Suddenly Delani could see the perfection for what it truly was.

When she returned her attention to her father it was to find his light brown eyes sympathetic to her realization. She searched his face as she asked, "A-am I… dead?"

He nodded slowly, cupping her cheeks in his hands and answered, "Yes, _da'mi, _you are dead." Seeing the fear and panic start to take shape in his daughter's eyes like storm clouds, he added, "Though, whether or not you remain that way is up to you."

Delani inspected her father's features, searching his warm and loving eyes; eyes she had missed so much that it hurt, eyes that haunted her dreams and reminded her of her single greatest failure. "What does that mean?" she asked, not understanding.

If she was dead then that was the end of it. How many times had she begged Falon'din to return her father to her? How many times had she consulted the gods, requesting that they trade her life for his? Her prayers had been met by silence. Dead was dead, there was no coming back from it.

The look he gave her was encouraging. "I will explain everything," his smile grew with a mirth she remembered well. "But first I want to look at my beautiful daughter."

Grabbing her by the shoulders, he looked at her from head to toe, taking in her every detail and his grin grew wider with pride and paternal adoration. "My, how you have grown," he observed with a tremble in his voice.

She looked down at herself, wondering how different she must look to him. While he looked exactly how she remembered. He was the strong man she had always thought him to be, indomitable, resilient, a laugh at the ready hiding just under his surface. He looked just as he had the day fate had stolen him from her, the day she had lost him to her own foolishness.

Tears pricked at her sinuses and Delani clenched her hands into tight fists. Sniffing back the upheaval of emotion, she replied, "And you're not as tall as I remember you being, old man."

He laughed and the sound made her heart jump with nostalgic joy. Happily regarding his daughter, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her back into his embrace. Delani nuzzled herself against him, feeling like a little girl all over again. He had always been her world, that did not stop being true with his passing.

"I have missed you, _ma da'mi_." When he pulled away the smile was smaller on his lips, the warmth was still there but the mirth had faded a bit. Softly he said, "I have been watching over you, _emma da'asha_, and it pains me to see how much you have suffered because of my memory."

"No," she vigorously shook her head, denying his words as false. "Not because of your memory," Delani corrected him, "because of my failure."

His eyes sharpened in scolding. It was a look that she had earned on occasion while growing up, an expression that had always been so effective in causing her to immediately stop exactly what she was doing, and never do it again. But she had spent everyday for more than a decade blaming herself for losing her father. It was reflex now, instinct, and not so easily forgotten.

"You did not fail me, Delani," he stated, chestnut colored eyes insisting that she listen. "You must put the thought from your mind. I lived my life for as long as I had it. I laughed and I loved, and it was glorious. But some of us are not meant to live as long as others. My time was short, but it was long enough to witness you grow into a mighty woman."

He cupped her cheek in his hand and thumbed over her _vallaslin_, staring at his daughter with adoration in his eyes, he said, "I passed with the knowledge that you had all that you needed to be the proud woman your mother and I raised you to be. You were a huntress beyond comparison, and you were fierce in every aspect. When I left my body it was knowing that you would be able to take care of yourself, and that the world would tremble at your feet." He smiled. "I always knew that you would change the world, _da'mi,_ but now I see that it had taken losing me to set you on your path."

Gnawing on her bottom lip to keep her chin from trembling, Delani shook her head and stood her ground against the waves of emotion that crashed against her. A part of her refused to believe that her father's death was part of a greater plan, that in order for her to achieve her destiny he needed to have died. Another, smaller yet insistent part of her knew that if he had lived she likely would not have found her way to the Inquisition nor her place within it. She had never asked to be Inquisitor, she had never wanted to be called Herald of Andraste, but she had adopted her titles and their roles. It was part of who she was now, and she could not imagine herself any other way.

"That does not make losing you any easier."

His smile turned sympathetic and he combed her hair out of her face like he used to do when she was a little girl. "You never lost me, Delani." The warmth of his voice could compete with the sun's. She could hear his love for her when he spoke. "I am a part of you." He pressed the tips of his fingers to her brow, explaining, "I live in your memories and in your heart, just as I always have and always will."

When he removed his fingers from the center of her forehead, Delani opened her eyes and wiped away the tears that fell free with the motion. Her father tucked his fingers under her chin and raised her face so that she might meet his gaze. Smiling down at her, his eyes sparkled as he instructed her to, "Tell me about this _shemlan_ whom you have gifted with my knife."

Another sharp pain cut through her, stabbing her in the heart. Delani was dead. She had died without getting the chance to tell him exactly how much she cared for him. Returning her father's smile, she said, "His name is Cullen, and I think that you would have liked him if you had ever gotten the chance to meet him."

Her father arched an eyebrow, the smile that was on his lips was happy and supportive. "He must mean a great deal to you for you to give him that knife."

She nodded without a second's hesitation nor an inkling of shame. "He does," Delani agreed, more certain of that than she had ever been about anything in her entire life.

His smile grew. "Do you love him," he asked, a hopeful note in his tone.

"Very much so," Delani admitted, feeling blood rush to her cheeks with the words. The truth of them resonated through her, ringing through her bones and sparkling like stars in her bloodstream. Smile widening, she reaffirmed, "I love him with all of my heart."

Chestnut colored eyes glittered with pride and happiness. The look he gave her made it clear how much those words, and the truth behind them, meant to him. All he had ever wanted for his daughter was for her to be happy, for her to find love, and now she had.

"Then you cannot stay here, _da'mi._"

The sound of leaves crunching pulled both of their attention to the edge of the clearing. Standing at the tree line was the obsidian eyed stag. He was regarding them with cautious interest as though he were waiting for something to happen. The deer's gaze moved to her father and the two of them spoke in wordless conversation, understanding passing between them through eye contact alone.

An impatient huff sounded from the stag and her father nodded in understanding. Refocusing on Delani, he stated, "You are dead, but not entirely. The threads of your soul are still tethered to your worldly vessel, waiting to either be ripped or repaired. The decision to return is yours to make."

He looked back at the stag for a moment before returning his attention to her. "Go back, _da'mi_. Finish what you started." He smiled, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. His tone was gentle with love as he continued, "Tell this Cullen that you love him, and know that your happiness is mine as well. The Beyond is not ready to claim your soul, and I am not ready for you to join me when you have so much life left to live."

Delani nodded. She would go back, she would happily do as her father had instructed. Smiling at the first man she had ever loved, she whispered, "_Ma ar'lath, papae_."

"_Ma ar'lath, da'mi_," he returned before pressing a kiss to her brow. When he released her he took a step backwards, backtracking to where the stag stood waiting at the clearing's edge. Without moving his gaze from hers, he said, "Promise me something, _emma da'asha_."

"Anything."

"Forgive yourself for what happened to me. It is time that you let me find peace in your memories and in your heart." The look in his light brown eyes was pleading. This was his one request. "When you leave this place, leave your blame behind with you."

She could not deny him his request when he asked with such fervor, or when he looked at her like that. Delani bowed her head and assured him, "I will, _papae_. I promise."

A grateful smile curled his lips and she could feel the force of his pride on her surface. Nodding in gratitude, he said, "You must go now." He was standing at the stag's side and the beast turned to leave. Before he followed the deer's steps he gave her one last smile and left with the words, "Go, and know that I am so proud of you."

His words filled her with joy and love. She had ached after them for years, missed hearing them the way flora missed the heat of spring during an especially bitter winter. She watched him leave the clearing until he disappeared under the shadow of the thick forest canopy.

Delani stood alone in the forest clearing, looking for how she would find her way back to her body. When no trail made itself known to her, she searched the heavens above and felt the answer in her core. If she did not want to return she would stay here forever. She would truly die, and that was not something that Delani was prepared to do.

She shut her eyes and relished in the feeling of the sun's warmth on her cheeks. Delani recalled all that awaited her in the realm of the living. There was a war on in Orlais. The Empress's life was in danger. The Venatori were reaping havoc anywhere and everywhere that they could. An ancient Tevinter Darkspawn Magister wanted to regress the whole of Thedas back a thousand years. Her clan still needed the protection that she could only offer them as Inquisitor. And, most importantly of all, Cullen still didn't know how much she loved him.

Her chest tightened at the thought of him. The memory of his golden eyes filled her with longing. She had gone too long without gazing into those amber depths already, she could not endure the rest of eternity without seeing them again. Delani loved how they shined when he smiled, how they would glitter with amusement and tighten with the force of his smile. His smile. Her heart fluttered with the memory of it. She remembered how much she adored that scar that scratched down the corner of his mouth. She remembered how his lips felt against hers, how he always managed to pull the very breath from her lungs.

Suddenly Delani couldn't breathe. Her eyes shot open only to find that the forest had disappeared around her, vanished into nothingness. Delani was enveloped in a blackness that had no end. It was a void, a lightless chasm that sucked the oxygen from her lungs. She grasped at her throat, trying to find breath but her limbs were stiff at her sides. Delani was helpless, struggling to breathe while also trying to regain control of her body. She was stuck. She was going to die all over again.

A bolt of energy surged through her, causing her body to convulse with the power of it. She felt like she were being viciously syphoned through a funnel before her senses came crashing down on her all at once. A gasp tore through her, and the feeling of oxygen finally expanding her lungs was nearly unbearable. The metallic taste of blood was thick in her mouth. Pain thrummed loudly through her body, aching, pulsing. Sound was muted, as though she were underwater and straining to hear. It took several seconds for her to be able to hear anything over the ringing in her ears.

"—fucking idiot!" A loud male voice broke through the fog, sounding angry, panicked even. Cold fingers pressed to Delani's neck and a sigh of relief momentarily joined the voice's anger. After the breath had passed, the voice spoke again. "How would we collect a ransom if she's dead, you blasted fool?"

A second voice spoke out, sounding raspy and dejected. "The knife ear tried to kill me!" he shouted back in his own defense.

"Better you than her. No one would pay a single copper for your sorry ass."

Delani felt her head being lifted off of the ground and tilted back. A second later water flooded her mouth and rushed into her lungs. She jolted upright with a cough, forcing the liquid from her lungs. As her body heaved, gasping for breath, a rough hand patted her back to help her find oxygen. Once her coughing fit had subsided, Delani blinked her eyes into focus to find herself in a forest clearing shadowed by night. There was chill in the air, the cold Ferelden nights were getting worse with the quick approach of winter.

She took a second to gather her wits. What was the last thing she could remember? Delani had cut out of the ropes that had bound her, and she'd gone through the bandit camp killing each bandit one by one. She had disposed of a majority of them before stepping up to Wayne. _Wayne_. Her attention ripped over her shoulder to the five bandits that were staring down at her.

The tall one standing behind Ayden McGregor was regarding her with hatred in his bloodshot eyes. It was a hatred she knew well. Fire sparked inside of her and with it came a burst of energy that could only exist during the mindlessness of rage. She shot up and launched herself at the shemlan, aiming to finish what she had started.

Wayne had killed her. The bastard had actually killed her! He had put his disgusting hands around her neck and he had squeezed until she'd stopped breathing. She would see him repaid for his kindness. He had taken her life and so she would take his. But Wayne would not be fortunate enough to find his way back from the dead; she would make sure of it.

Ayden McGregor intercepted her, grabbing her by the shoulders before turning her around, and throwing her face first down on the ground. Delani grunted when the weight of two men fell on top of her. One held her down, while the other bound her wrists to her elbows behind her back. She would not be cutting herself free this time, they were making sure of it.

"Now, now, Inquisitor," Ayden said when his henchmen finally had her properly secured. They pulled her onto her knees and turned her back around to face their mage leader before they finally released her.

There was a smile on Ayden's face when he asked, "Is that the proper way to thank the man that just saved your life?"

"He _killed_ me," she spat, her voice rough from the damage Wayne had done to her. She glared at the _shemlan_ still standing behind Ayden. Delani would get her vengeance, if not now, later. But she would make Wayne pay.

"Not him," Ayden returned with a careless grin. Jabbing his thumb into his chest, he clarified, "I was talking about me. If not for my magic you'd still be dead, and I'd be broke."

She pulled her lip back into a sneer but her anger was no longer the animal that it had been moments ago. Exhaustion was creeping up on her and Delani slacked on her knees. She didn't have the energy to fight them. Nearly dying had left her drained and what energy she'd had reserved was spent on trying to attack Wayne. Now that her efforts had been thwarted all Delani could do was resign herself to complacency for the rest of the night. After she'd had some rest she would fight these cowards with renewed vigor.

When Delani's body hunched forward, the fight visibly drained from her, the smile in Ayden's voice grew. "I don't think she'll cause us anymore problems tonight, men. But just to be sure," his amusement was accompanied by wickedness, "you men should thank her for what she did to our friends."

Tension filled the air and Delani had only the briefest of seconds to prepare herself before her stomach was met with the full momentum of a steel-toed boot. She doubled over, gasping for breath while simultaneously dry heaving, and still their attack continued. When her cheeks was crushed under the weight of a bandit's boot, she wondered if perhaps she should have remained dead. How ludicrous for Ayden to revive her only to have her men beat her to death shortly after.

* * *

"Commander—"

"Did you bring the trackers?" he asked before Leliana had a chance to say whatever it was she had been about to say.

The spy master bowed her head and moved to the side, allowing a small group of elves to enter the war room.

Cullen was standing at the war table, his weight purchased on his fists as he inspected the map below. Standing at his side was the same pale boy who had destroyed his world and given it back to him all in the same night. Cole had come to his quarters to share Delani's death with Cullen. It had been the single worst thing he had ever endured in his entire life. Cullen would have preferred to have been tortured by demons than to ever have to experience that pain ever again. Then, a minute or so later, Cole had been sucked back into Delani's mind, experiencing her revival alongside her and restoring Cullen with the hope that he would see her again, hold her again, feel her warmth against him.

He had experienced what it was to lose Delani. Cullen had had his heart ripped out of his chest, had felt it shatter like glass. He'd felt the hollowness that had started to creep through him like a shadow, swallowing up anything that was good left inside him. Cullen had experienced unbearable, incomparable, indescribable pain, and he refused to feel it ever again.

They would not wait until first light to go after Delani. They were going to go after her now. Cullen would not go another night without her in his arms. He refused to go through another day with her in danger, in pain, suffering while he sat back and waited for the most opportune time to act. Thanks to Cole they knew where she was now. He had done nothing for too long already. Cullen had lost her once, he would not lose her again.

Leliana and the elven trackers approached the war table, awaiting Cullen to explain what it was that they were all doing here before even the sun dared show its light. Regarding them with all of the authority his title granted him, Cullen started, "We know where the Inquisitor is," only for Leliana to interrupt him.

"How is this possible?" she asked, her eyes darkened by the shadow of her hood. The spy master did not like that he knew something before she did, but now was not the time.

Gesturing toward Cole, Cullen gave her the short version of the story. "Whoever has her now is hurting Del— Lady Lavellan. Cole can feel her suffering and has been able to pinpoint her location on the map." The revelation was not at all a surprising one, as they had witnessed the boy do it before when searching for the binding necklace.

The boy's eyes went wide and his chapped lips parted, and Cullen braced himself for what he knew was to come. "_Bones broken, blood tastes like copper in my mouth. The coin is heavy, is this luck? Creators I can't tell. Make it stop hurting._" He blinked and returned to the conversation. "I want to help," Cole stated, needlessly explaining his presence in the room.

Cullen grit his teeth, his fists tightened and he knew that, if they were not covered by the leather of his gloves, his knuckles would be ghostly white. When he found Delani he would make who ever had taken her pay for what they'd done. He was going to make them wish that they had never been born, and he was going to relish in their suffering. Cullen was going to teach them that the price of harming the woman he loved was not one that any living being should have been willing to pay.

Sucking in one deep breath after the other, when he looked up to meet Leliana's gaze it was for her to nod for Cullen to continue with the meeting. She understood his anger and she understood his urgency. He could go on without anymore interruptions.

"We know where the Inquisitor is, and we are going to go after her now." Pointing down at the map, to the location where Cole had earlier marked, he said, "The bandits were headed to the Storm Coast, but did not make it far. They are only a few leagues from the original attack and if we leave now we will be able to better track them once we are closer to their location."

He pulled free one of Delani's tunics and thumbed over the fabric. Cullen closed his eyes as he remembered what she had looked like while wearing it, how the color had made her sea green eyes shine brighter. He would see those eyes again, and he would not leave anything to chance. When he held the garment out, one of the elven trackers stepped up and accepted it from him.

Cullen explained, "That tunic is the last thing she wore before she left. It is heavy with her scent. Give it to your hounds once we've reached the marked location." Looking around at the faces surrounding him, he asked, "Do you have any questions?"

Heads shook and he let out a breath of relief. "Then let's get moving. There is no time to waste." He pushed himself off of the war table and rounded the room. Shoving the door open, Cullen was glad to hear the group following closely behind him.

Leliana appeared beside him, giving him a sidelong glance as she carefully assessed his outward appearance. "The Inquisitor and her team were ambushed before. We should assume that there are still many bandits holding her captive. Are you going to take a squadron of your men as well?"

He nodded once. "Of course," Cullen answered her. The situation might have been a painful one, but it had not left him without reason. "One of my lieutenants will be leading a squad of men that will follow after us."

"You will not be leading them?" she asked, an eyebrow arched, but there was no surprise in her voice or in her gaze.

When they found Delani, he would be there. Cullen refused to lag behind for any reason at all. Without meeting Leliana's gaze, he answered, "Blackwall and Solas will accompany me and the the trackers. If there is a large number of bandits holding Delani captive we will be prepared to engage them."

Leliana walked with him until the entrance of the main hall. He started down the steps and she lingered at the top of the stairs. "Bring her home, Commander."

Without looking over his shoulder, Cullen assured her, "I will not return without her," and hurried down the rest of the steps.

Not stopping once, Cullen was grateful to find that Blackwall had prepared Delilah for him. Both the Grey Warden and the Apostate were ready to leave on Cullen's command and, as soon as he was situated on his mount, he gave the order for them to move. The three of them, and the small group of trackers with a few hunting hounds, raced out of Skyhold. His soldiers were following behind, but their numbers were larger so they would move a bit slower. Delani could not afford for him to be slowed down by anything.

He pushed Delilah to her limits and only slowed when the mare threatened to collapse. As soon as she and the other mounts had caught their breath they were moving again. The sun had finally found its way over the horizon and, if the sun was up, that probably meant that the bandits were on the move again. Cullen refused to allow the distance between him and Delani to grow any larger. There would be no more stops until the hounds had Delani's scent and she was back in his arms.

Snow capped mountains eventually receded into forest covered terrain. For hours they rode, more carefully now that the trees filtered them through the wood. For leagues they journeyed, proceeding at a hurried pace, rushing through the passing scenery until Cullen was so close to finding Delani that he could feel it in his bones.

When at last they reached the location marked on their maps, they came to a halt. Two of the trackers descended from their mounts and readied the hounds. They pulled Delani's tunic from their pack and offered it to the dogs. Black noses wiggled as the hounds took in her scent, immediately their snouts met the ground, searching for the owner of the smell.

The dogs strained against their leashes, having caught Delani's scent they were eager to find the source. The tracker looked up at Cullen and nodded. When Cullen returned the gesture the entire group started to move. They continued through the forest, following the dogs as they led them to where Delani was being held against her will.

Cullen had to temper out his hope with protective doubt. He wanted to hold Delani again, he needed to bring her home, but he also needed to prepare his heart for the worst. If she somehow didn't make it between now and when he found her, he had to be prepared to deal with that pain. He no longer had the privilege of privacy as he had had before. If he found Delani and she was dead, he would have to keep himself composed enough to at least manage the situation. Somehow Cullen doubted that any amount of preparation would make him able to withstand the loss of her a second time. The first had been impossible enough.

The closer that they got the more excited the dogs became. Their tails were wagging and their noses wet with excitement. The trees thinned and the hounds led them out into a forest clearing, the sight of which pulled the breath right out of Cullen's lungs.

Bodies were strewn about, looking as though they were sleeping if not for the pools of blood that stained the forest floor. It was a slaughter, and Cullen felt a sense of dread amass in his gut. Had the bandits been attacked by another group of bandits? Had someone else taken Delani? Was she in even more danger now?

"Maker's breath," he sighed, scanning the camp in search of any sign of Delani, fearing that she would be one of the bodies drained of blood. To no one in particular, he asked, "What happened here?"

The trackers set out to work, their hounds sniffing the camp, tails still wagging with excitement. The scent trail did not appear to end here. Delani was on the move, but before they went after her, Cullen needed to know what he was about to be stepping in to.

He, Solas, and Blackwall waited at the tree line for a few minutes as the trackers assessed the corpse littered campground. Cullen's teeth were starting to ache from the pressure of him grinding them. There was little worse than just sitting around, waiting for someone to provide him with information that he couldn't collect himself. Actually, that was untrue. There were many things that were significantly worse; losing Delani, for example, had been the single worst thing to have ever happened to him.

Just as his patience was about to near its end, one of the trackers approached him. They stood beside Cullen's mount, staring up at him with what looked like admiration and surprise in his eyes. When the elf explained the situation to Cullen and the others, he realized that the sentiments were for Delani.

"The bandits were attacked, but not by an outside force," the tracker started. "Judging by the footprints, it appears as though the Inquisitor killed these men, one by one, while they slept."

Cullen's eyes widened as he looked over the clearing one more time. Delani had done all of this? He should not have been as surprised as he was. She was a fierce creature, and she would have been infuriated by her capture and her treatment. It should have come as no surprise to him that she was capable of this and so much more.

"How many bandits are left?" he asked, returning his attention to the tracker standing on the ground below.

"Five," the elf easily answered. His expression tightened with distaste when he made his next observation. "They will be traveling slowly. The Inquisitor is being made to walk and her footprints suggest that her ankle is twisted."

His lip curled with fury. Delani had killed a majority of the men herself, but he would see that the few that remained were properly punished for what they'd done to her. For every injury that Delani had sustained in their possession they would be repaid ten fold.

Tightening his fist around the leather of Delilah's reins, he bit out past clenched teeth, "Can you tell how much of a lead they have on us?"

The elf glanced back at his fellow trackers, looking for something before bringing his gaze back onto Cullen. "The campfire's ashes are cold. They have a few hours on us but, as I said, they are making the Lady Herald walk. Her injuries will be slowing them down significantly. We should be able to catch up rather quickly."

Cullen nodded curtly, accepting the report as satisfactory before ordering the man to, "Lead the way. We've already learned everything that we needed. I refuse to waste any more time."

Crossing an arm over his chest in salute, the elf left Cullen to go speak to the other trackers. Cullen watched impatiently as they gathered the hounds and prepared them to move again. His stomach was uneasy and his heart was beating manically in his chest. They were close to finding Delani. If she could hold out just a little bit longer, he would bring her back home.

_I'm coming for you, ma atishan. Hold on just a little bit longer._

When they started moving again he was grateful for the hurried pace of their galloping mounts. Even the horses understood his urgency. The small group cut through the trees, the distance between them and Delani was waning under racing hooves as dirt a leaves upturned beneath them.

It did not take long for the trackers to slow the group down, warning Cullen that they were close. Both Solas and Blackwall were fidgety with anxiety. They wanted to find Delani as badly as he did, they were just as worried for her. Delani belonged to every single one of them, she was their friend, their leader, she was the Inquisitor and none of them were prepared to lose her.

They came to a stop and the group dismounted. Cullen secured Delilah's reins on a low hanging branch before joining the trackers with their ready dogs. Solas and Blackwall were ready beside him, the mage's staff was gripped tightly in his hand, and the Grey Warden's sword and shield were drawn. Both were prepared for a fight should the bandits decide not to surrender peacefully; a large part of Cullen hoped that it would be the case.

Following the lead of overly excited hounds, the group combed through the forest. After only a few minutes of carefully and quietly picking through the forest in search of tracks, they finally stepped into the sound of an ongoing argument.

"—blasted knife ear is unconscious again."

Cullen's heart lurched. He followed one of the trackers to some nearby shrubbery and crouched behind it. From their position they could clearly see the five bandits. Two were standing over Delani's body, and the other three were shuffling their feet some distance away as they awaited their next instructions. His focus stayed on Delani. One of the bandits was blocking her from his view, but Cullen could see that her medium leather armor was caked in blood and dirt. The fire of outrage burned molten in his blood.

"At this rate it'll be years before we reach the storm coast."

One of the men combed their hair back. He had an air of authority about him and Cullen could wager that he was the leader of the small group. Casually rolling his shoulders, he replied, "Well, pick her up. My magic will not be able to wake her this time. We'll carry her until we have to make camp again."

Lip pulling back into a snarl, Cullen growled at the very thought of any of these brigands laying a hand on her. He looked at Blackwall and Solas, who were kneeling beside him, and ordered them to, "Keep the mage alive. Kill everyone else." When he then glanced at the tracker it was to see that the elf already had his bow strung and ready. The elf nodded at Cullen, letting him know that he and the others were ready for whatever would come next.

Cullen stood from behind the shrub and cut through it, Solas and Blackwall were behind him as he stepped into the conversation. The bandits turned in surprise to face the intruders, but the slack of their jaws was the only reaction they were permitted before one was shot through his open mouth with an arrow. Solas unleashed a bolt of lightning from his palm and Blackwall ran his sword through one of the bandits that reacted fast enough to pull free a blade and charge toward them.

As the others dealt with the handful of bandits, Cullen went to Delani. His heart broke in his chest at the sight of her. Falling to his knees, he collected her from the ground and pulled her to his chest. All he could do was stare down at her for a moment. Pain and fury sweltered in side of him. Delani's face was black and blue with angry bruises, and swollen to the point she was hardly recognizable. There was a gash along the right side of her face that ran from her brow to her cheek and the blood was still dry on her skin. Her lip was split open. Her nose was bent. And her neck was marked by bruises left behind by large male hands that had wrung it too tightly.

Waves of heartache crashed through him, the tide ripping him under the water and drowning him in guilt and anger. The woman he loved had been abused. She'd been beaten bloody and had even died. She was motionless in his arms. If it wasn't for the rasping sound of her breathing, he might have thought that she was dead. Cullen hadn't protected her. She'd been stolen from him and he had been helpless to do anything. He had failed her.

Tears started to well before his eyes, blurring her bloody face from him. The weight of his failure was too much. Cullen blinked and his tears fell onto her cheeks. Pressing his forehead to hers, he held her tightly as he allowed his relief of her being alive to overshadow everything else he was feeling. Delani was alive. She was in his arms, and he would never let her go again.

Voice thick with emotion, he whispered, "I've got you. You are safe now, _ma atishan_. I'm sorry that it took me so long to find you."


	21. Chapter 21

The light streaming through the Dalish styled, stained glass windows was colorful, painting the room in hues of green and yellow. It had a calming effect, lulling Cullen's anxiety enough to keep him seated in the love seat pushed up against the banister. He wrung his hands as he watched Delani get tended to by healers, his foot tapping nervously as he tried to give them their space as they worked. Keeping still was next to impossible, but he had already been banished from Delani's side and he would not be welcomed back until the healers were done.

"You need to stay off your foot for some time, Inquisitor," one of the healers warned. "We've reset your ankle, but the damage done to it will need time to properly heal."

Delani simply nodded that she understood. Her lips were thin, and her gaze was distant as the mages finished with her bandages. When a woman stepped up to Cullen, his attention was pulled from Delani to meet the apothecary's gaze. She handed him a container of a green colored salve, and some tea bags filled with bitter smelling herbs.

As he accepted the items from the woman, she explained their purpose to him. "The salve, applied three times a day, will help prevent infection on her cuts and will promote healing with minimal scarring. The tea is to help with the pain, and she should drink them as needed." When Cullen thanked her for the items, she offered him a sympathetic smile before adding, "If she needs more let me know. I've given you enough to last a week, but it wouldn't be a problem to make more."

"Thank you," Cullen murmured, dropping his gaze to the items in his hands. His heart was in his stomach. He and Delani had not had a moment alone since rescuing her from the bandits. There was so much that he needed to tell her, emotions that he needed to confess too, but it was never the right time. Either Delani had been sleeping off the worst of her injuries, or she was being looked over by healers. The proper time had yet to present itself.

It was more than that, he knew. The issue was that there was this rift between them, a wall built high that had not been there since their first meeting those many, many months ago. Delani had not so much as looked at him, and Cullen felt that he knew why.

She was angry at him, just as he was angry at himself. Cullen had failed her. As her general it was his job to protect her, to keep her safe, to guard her from the very thing that had happened to her. But he hadn't. Cullen had been safe behind Skyhold's walls when she needed him most, and now Delani had finally realized that he truly was not deserving of her love. He never had been. He never would be.

His fingers tightened around the salve, the herb filled bags churning in his fierce grasp. Cullen would prove to her that he _was_ worthy. He would correct the wrong he had committed by not protecting her. Her every need would be tended to, and he would make sure that Delani wanted for nothing. He may not have been able to prevent her injuries from happening, but he would be there to make sure that she was being properly taken care of.

One by one the healers started to leave Delani's chambers. The last one double checked the bandages around Delani's ribcage before reminding her that, "You are not to put _any_ pressure on that foot. I will return with a crutch for you to walk around with. Until then, I'm sure the Commander would be happy to assist you to get wherever you need to go."

Cullen nodded that she had it right, but Delani's gaze was on her lap. He had never seen her so diminutive before. Delani was the kind of person that exuded her own light, but that light was gone. It had been snuffed out, and Cullen's chest ached with the realization. Those bandits had broken her more than just physically, they'd taken away something very dear to her. Her vivaciousness. And Cullen could not help but accept some of that blame himself. If he had done more, if he had tried harder, she would not have suffered at their hands. He had failed her.

The healer placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder before squeezing it. When he looked up to search her encouraging features, she assured him, "She needs some rest, that's all. She will be back on her feet in no time."

He accepted her words with a curt nod before his gaze fell to his feet. Cullen couldn't bring himself to believe the healer's assurances. There was something upsetting Delani that ran deeper than her simply needing to rest. The laugh that he could always find in her eyes was gone, the smirk that had always hinted under the surface of her lips had vanished. Delani appeared to have the life and color drained from her, and it filled Cullen with such incomprehensible guilt.

At the sound of the door shutting, he realized that they were alone at last. His heart beat picked up, nervously thumping as he thought about what he should do. Since the moment he had found her with the bandits, Cullen had refused to step away from her side, or to let her out of his sight. They had not gotten the chance to speak, and now that they had it he had no idea where to even start.

Setting down the salve and tea bags on the couch cushion beside him, Cullen pulled himself up from the loveseat and walked the short distance to where Delani was seated on the edge of her bed. When she didn't look up to meet his gaze, he crouched down in front of her.

Desperately, he searched her features. Her sea green eyes avoided his, and her split bottom lip found its way between her teeth. Cullen's heart lurched in his chest and his stomach knotted up. He understood why she couldn't look at him, he could barely stand his own company, but her evasion still cut so deeply. He had worried after her, had nearly lost his mind trying to bring her back home. Though he understood the purpose of the wall she had built up against him, he could not accept its existence.

Cullen placed a gentle hand on her knee, quietly whispering, "Delani—" only for her to clamp her eyes shut and turn her face away from him.

"Are Cassandra and the others here?" she asked, her voice as hard and emotionless as the wall that she had erected between them. Still not looking at him, Delani softly wondered, "Did they make it?"

He sighed, fighting with himself to not outwardly react to her evasion of him. "Yes," he supplied, defeated. "Would you like me to bring them to you?"

Delani nodded once, a sharp and impersonal movement. "If you would please."

"Very well." Cullen pushed himself back onto his feet. He didn't move immediately, instead he stared down at the beautiful woman who he loved so much, and racked his mind for ways to close the breach that now separated them. How did he fix this? When no answers came to mind he sighed again and went to go retrieve her friends.

He descended the stairs and left her chambers, but only made it so far as the catwalk before his emotions pulled him to a stop. The beat of his heart picked up in his chest, the frantic _thump-thump, thump-thump_ filling him with anxiety and dread. It felt as though his insides were tearing themselves apart. He couldn't breathe. His throat was tightening. Cullen leaned his weight against the stone wall and rested his forehead against its cold surface.

Forced deep, ragged breaths clawed through the tightness of his throat, Cullen clenched his eyes shut and tried to shove his emotions back down. How could he have failed her so completely? How could he have let this happen to her? An angry sob ripped out of him and Cullen hammered his fist into the wall, repeatedly punching the stone surface until he felt the skin break from the contact. When he knew that his knuckles were bleeding, that the bones had probably been displaced, he allowed himself to calm back down. He would make this right. He _had_ to fix what had broken between him and Delani. Nothing else mattered.

Once his heartbeat had slowed back down to a normal rhythm, Cullen peeled himself from the wall and straightened himself out. He released the last of his tension with a final sigh before returning to his task. He had to find Delani's companions and inform them that she was asking for their company. After he was done with that Cullen was going to try and speak with Delani without her turning away from him in disgust.

Stepping out into the main hall, Cullen was surprised and relieved to find that Varric, Dorian, and Cassandra were loitering near the door. They had probably been waiting for their chance to check in with Delani, just as worried for her as she was about them. Cullen understood Delani's desire to see her friends, she had thought that they had died. What he didn't understand why she refused to acknowledge him. He could handle her anger, he could even endure her disappointment. Cullen could not, however, deal with her completely blocking him out.

She meant too much to him. Almost losing her had hurt him too much. He needed to hold her, to feel her, to know that she was truly with him, but she couldn't bring herself to meet and hold his gaze. There were very few feelings worse than the ones he was currently suffering.

Her companions immediately noticed him exiting the stairwell to Delani's chambers and rushed him. They were all still banged up from their encounter with the bandits, though none appeared half as bad as what Delani had suffered. His anger resurfaced at the memory of her bruised and swollen face, how her body was covered with bruises and bandages. He had not yet come up with a punishment befitting what had been done to Delani. But he could be creative if he put his mind to it.

Before they could bombard him with questions, Cullen informed them, "She's awake and a little worse for wear." He rubbed the back of his neck, working the tension from the muscles there. He could not ignore the part of him that was envious of Delani's immediate desire for her companions when she had dismissed him so briskly. Setting his jaw, he exhaled heavily through his nose before adding, "She wants to see you, all of you."

"Best not to keep her Worship waiting then," Varric said with a joke in his voice, but the concern in his eyes was bright with sincerity. He turned for the door but stopped short before his fingers touched the handle. Looking over his shoulder at Cullen, the dwarf said, "Thanks for bringing her back, Curly."

He bowed his head, accepting Varric's gratitude even though he felt it unnecessary. Cullen loved Delani. There should not have been a single shred of doubt about whether or not he would go after her. He would have gone into the Void for that woman.

Varric and Cassandra both disappeared behind the door but Dorian lingered behind, closely inspecting Cullen's features with concern in his grey eyes. Placing an affable hand on Cullen's shoulder, he offered him a small smile and the words, "She's safe now, Cullen. And that's thanks to you."

Grinding his teeth, Cullen found it exceedingly difficult to accept Dorian's encouragement. Delani should not have been in danger to begin with. He should have done more to make sure that she was safe. He should have reacted sooner. Delani should not have suffered the way she had and he should have done more to prevent it. But he hadn't and now she hated him because of it.

A sigh expelled from Dorian when he realized that his words had no impact. Allowing his hand to fall from Cullen's shoulder, he said, "Lady Leliana wanted you to meet her in the dungeons. I believe she's waiting there for you now."

"Thank you," he stated before glancing at the door to Delani's chambers. A weight like lead sat heavy on the floor of his stomach, filling him with self-loathing and anxiety. He would speak to Leliana, and then he would speak to Captain Ophelia about how he would be tending to his paperwork from the Inquisitor's chambers before returning to Delani's side.

Delani needed to rest, and he would allow her, but he would not let her go through this alone. She might not want him by her side, but he would not be pushed from it. Cullen had already lost her once, he was not prepared to go through that another time. Never again would he endure that pain.

Turning on his heel, he walked down the hall until he reached the door that would help him find his way to the dungeons. There were two guards posted at the entrance, and both saluted him in greeting. He nodded at each of them before walking past to the cells that hung precariously over the crumbling ledge. Standing guard at the final door was a Templar, specifically assigned to keep their mage prisoner contained.

Leliana stood in front of the cell, her knuckles tucked under her chin as she closely inspected the prisoner. She didn't look up when Cullen approached, but said, "I did not think I would be able to pull you from Lady Lavellan's side," by way of greeting.

"You call that knife ear a lady?" The prisoner spat from his corner in the cell. "She's a savage! She killed almost all of my men!"

The Orlesian spymaster was unfazed by the prisoner's rambling, while it took what little self control that Cullen had left to keep from reaching into the cell and wringing the mage's neck. "I saw what she did to your men, and she gave them each a merciful death." There was a wicked smile in her voice when she assured him, "You will not be so lucky."

When Leliana finally turned to meet Cullen's tense gaze, he asked, "What have you learned?"

"The Faceless Few were a failed mercenary group from Starkhaven," she supplied, her accented words dancing melodically from her mouth. "They couldn't keep contracts and so they lost their credibility and became highwaymen. This is their leader, Ayden McGregor, the last Faceless Man in Thedas."

Cullen's lip curled back in disgust. He had known that these men had lacked honor, but hearing his suspicions confirmed made him angry. Even criminals were capable of honor, some even had a code. But this filth preyed on the helpless and reveled in the madness.

To the prisoner, Cullen demanded, "What did you want with Delani?"

"Isn't it obvious," the man laughed without amusement, his voice shuddering as he violently shook from the cold. "I wanted gold, and lots of it."

Leliana eyed the prisoner with an arched eyebrow, wheels turning in her eyes as she contemplated all the things that could be done to the prisoner. Without looking at Cullen, she explained further, "He wanted a ransom. He was going to offer Lady Lavellan to both us and the Venatori and sell her to the highest bidder." To the mage, she prompted, "You did not expect her to put up such a fight, did you?"

Ayden laughed again, and it was a hysterical sound, before dragging his trembling hands through his hair. "That damned rabbit was more trouble than she's worth."

His teeth ached from how hard he was grinding them. Delani was worth any trouble, the value of her safety and her person was priceless. Cullen would have happily given his life for hers. This brigand could not imagine the treasure he was insulting so ignorantly. And to offer her to the Venatori, their enemy, who knew what those monsters would have done to her. She would have suffered so much worse at their hands.

Fury spread through Cullen like wildfire, he had a desire for blood that would only be quenched with Ayden McGregor's death. "What will we do with him?" he growled.

Leliana's shoulder jumped with a careless shrug. "We could wait for the Inquisitor to deal with him, have a public trial and execution," she offered before tentatively adding, "Or we can deal with him ourselves. No one knows that he is here besides a few guards, Solas, Blackwall, you and myself."

Her eyes narrowed on the prisoner, and her tone was dangerous when Leliana stated, "Justice has many forms, not all of them are doled out swift and painlessly."

He ground his teeth as he considered her words. The option to deal with Ayden himself was a tempting one. How good it would feel to make the man know suffering the way that he had made Delani suffer. Too good. It would be too easy to torture the man, to make him beg for death as though it were the only release from his pain. It would feel too good to listen to his screams as Cullen repaid every broken bone, every bruise, every cut ten times over. It would be sweet, but the taste would be of revenge. Not justice.

Cullen hated Ayden McGregor for what he had done to Delani. But, in the end, it was Delani who had suffered at his hands. The decision of what should be done to him was hers to make and no one else's. Though he would have loved to deal with the man himself, to take this burden from her shoulders, he would only do so if she asked him to. The prisoner's life was in Delani's hands, and that meant that he had time before she came to a decision.

Sighing through his nose, Cullen grumbled, "I'm not the one who he abducted and abused. The decision of what we do to him is Delani's to make."

He thought he felt a wave of disappointment radiate from Leliana. She nodded before looking past Cullen to the Templar waiting by the door. "Strip the prisoner," she instructed, catching Cullen by surprise. "And if you forget to feed him every once in a while, I'm sure no one would take offence; or even notice for that matter."

When she looked up to meet Cullen's wide, questioning gaze, the spy master said, "He gets to live a little bit longer, that does not mean that he gets to be comfortable."

Cullen didn't have it in him to argue with her. He side eyed McGregor before nodding his approval. McGregor could live, but it did not have to be comfortably. It wasn't torture, but it was the hospitality that he deserved.

Palming the pommel of his sword, Cullen's gaze moved onto Leliana before he dismissed himself from the conversation. "I should return to Delani's side."

A small smile tugged slightly at the corner of her mouth at hearing him refer to the Inquisitor by her name and not her title. Nodding that she understood, Leliana said, "I'll make sure that only the most important matters are brought to your attention. For now my people will consult with Captain Ophelia until you say otherwise."

He bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you, Leliana."

She waved him off with a roll of her eyes and a muttered, "Go, now."

Not needing to be told twice, Cullen left the dungeon behind. First he would stop by his office to grab the unfinished paperwork he had left scattered along his desk. Then he would return to Delani's chambers and borrow her desk. He wanted to be close to her, to tend to her every need, but he also needed to be productive and keep his hands busy. Delani would need to rest, and while she did he would work.

With sleep had come nightmares. Delani had relived her death, had seen the murder in Wayne's eyes all over again. She had felt his hands around her throat, had felt his fingers tightening, squeezing until her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She had felt the fear, the helplessness, and Delani was terrified of falling asleep again.

She was currently laying on her side, her back to Cullen, pretending to rest as she dreaded what would come if she did actually slip into another nap. She could hear the quill scratching on parchment as he worked, and pondered how a sound could be soothing and grating at the same time. His presence in the room was comforting, but it was infuriating as well. Delani didn't know what was wrong with her, but she couldn't stand Cullen's company.

Actually, that was a lie. Delani knew exactly what was wrong with her. She was weak. She was a weak, helpless, hopeless idiot, and she did not deserve his attention or his affection. How could he possibly have feelings for someone as frail and powerless as her? Cullen was a lion, he was a force of nature that bent things to his will. He deserved a partner that could do the same, instead he had her. A broken fawn that couldn't even take care of herself.

Her body ached, reminding her again of her time spent with the Faceless Few, of the care with which Wayne and McGregor had treated her. Her stomach twisted with knots at the memory. Delani had been in many fights, she had been cut, she had been broken, she had bled and she had nearly died countless times. But this had been different.

Never in her life had she been bound like a hog ready for a spit. Never before had her hands been tied while she'd been beaten. Delani had never been that kind of helpless before, and the memory of it terrified her. She had no one to blame but herself for what had happened to her. So filled with over-confident bravado, she had been so sure that she and her companions could handle the ambush without breaking a sweat.

Even when she noticed that their enemy's numbers were too great, she had stayed in the fight. Delani should have sounded the retreat. She should have told her companions to fall back, to run for their lives and fight another day. Instead they had stayed. Her friends had nearly died and she had been abducted. Everything that had happened to them, to her, was a result of her own stupidity. Delani had suffered the consequences of her brashness, was still suffering its consequences, and now Cullen wanted to bear witness to the end result. He wanted to help her through it, to carry her, protect her, comfort her. But she didn't deserve any of it. Delani deserved this pain, not his affection.

A mass started to form in her throat, dark emotions expanding through her chest and spreading through her muscles. They tightened with fear, with self-loathing, and the sudden tension in her body did not go unnoticed by Cullen.

"Delani?" he called to her, the sound of his quill scribbling on parchment coming to a stop. "Are you awake?"

_No_, she thought. There was no hiding it now, he would be on her in seconds, wanting to take care of her like the amazing man that he was, and the thought made her stomach roll. The thought of his gentle fingers grazing her skin, his touch tender as he helped her sit up, as he tended to her every need, it made her sick to her stomach. He couldn't touch her. She didn't deserve him.

She heard him get out from behind the desk, the sound of his boots clicking on the stone floor as he made his way toward her. Cullen rounded the bed until he was kneeling beside her. She clamped her eyes tightly shut as he combed her bangs out of her face, fighting the urge to smack his fingers away from her. His breath was a warm caress on her features as he sighed at the sight of her.

"How are you feeling, _ma atishan_?"

_Don't call me that_, she wanted to snap at him. She did not deserve the endearment. She was weak, and the weak deserved to die. She _had _died. And dead she should have stayed. Releasing a slow, heavy breath she assessed her aches and pains and answered with an honest, "I've felt better."

Delani cracked an eye open to find Cullen staring at her with worry in his golden eyes. She felt terrible for worrying him, but she also felt infuriated by his concern. He should have been just as disgusted with her as she was with herself. She had gotten herself captured. She had nearly gotten her team, their _friends_, killed. He should have been tearing her apart like he would a foolhardy soldier, not caring after her, not looking at her with such tenderness in his gaze.

"Here," he murmured, gently grabbing hold of her arm. "Allow me to help you sit up."

Self-hatred filled her with anger. She ripped her arm from Cullen's grasp and snarled, "I've got it." Wincing, she pulled herself up with a groan, and the effort left her breathless.

Delani had been helpless during her captivity with the bandits. She hadn't been able to defend herself or escape. She had felt her single greatest fear, inability, and she never wanted to feel it again. That was another reason why she was so unreasonably infuriated with Cullen. He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to tend to her every need, but Delani needed to prove to herself that she was better than her injuries, that she was strong enough to never find herself in that kind of situation ever again. She couldn't do that if he hovered over her, clucking like a mother hen.

She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, but couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes. Delani knew that she would find pain there, and she hated the fact that she was the one causing it. All Cullen wanted to do was take care of her, and she was making that as impossible for him as she could. Delani wanted to take care of herself. She needed to prove to herself that she could.

"How's the pain?" his worry filled voice reverberated through the room, making Delani want to bury herself in his arms and just cry, while also making her want to scream at him to leave.

Rubbing her brow to keep herself from snapping at him again, she sighed, "It's manageable."

He placed a warm hand on her knee and searched her eyes as he asked, "Would you like me to prepare you some tea?"

"No," she bit out, her patience for his concern and doting waning by the second. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Why couldn't he just let her wallow in her sense of worthlessness? Why did he have to insist on seeing her like this?

When Delani tried to push herself onto her feet, Cullen was up in an instant, his hand on her elbow and the other on the small of her back. Lip pulling back into a snarl, Delani ripped her arm from his grasp and nearly lost her balance as she did so. "I'm fine, Cullen. Please. Leave me be!"

His amber eyes looked at her as though she had just slapped him. Jaw working as he thought about how he could help her without touching her. After making a displeased sound, he walked over to the love seat and retrieved the crutch that had been propped up against it. He handed it to her and Delani snatched it from him.

As she awkwardly hobbled across the room toward the privy, she flinched at the intensity of her anger when he asked, "Do you need any help?"

"No, Cullen," she growled at him, unable to hold back her anger no matter how badly she wanted to. "I don't need your help to take a piss. I think I can manage."

She slammed the door to the privy shut behind her and leaned her weight against it. Burying her face in her hands she fought back the urge to succumb to her tears. She would _not_ cry, not with Cullen just on the other side of the door. He would want to comfort her, and that was something that she simply couldn't deal with at the moment. Her emotions were a fucking mess, and she didn't even know where to start addressing them. Creators, what was happening to her?

After several minutes of heavy breathing, Delani finally bothered to do what she had come to the privy to do. Her every muscle ached as she wriggled out of her tights and pulled down her smalls. She felt as though she had been charged by an angry druffalo during mating season, and absolutely every part of her was in pain. When she was done Delani lingered just a few minutes longer, hating that she had to go back out to her room and face Cullen.

It was the sound of a hissing kettle that finally pulled her from the privy. Delani stepped out to Cullen pouring the boiling water in a mug. He set the kettle near the hearth before turning to face Delani. There was an unsure smile on his lips and he held the mug out in offering, as though he were trying to make peace between them.

"I told you that I didn't want tea," she stated.

His brows knitted self-consciously before he replied, "But you're obviously in pain, Delani."

"I'm _fine_!" Delani barked at him, hating how much his concern melted her heart, loathing how badly she needed him to hold her. Delani needed to get through this herself. She couldn't allow herself to be helpless again. Relying on Cullen to help her through this was to accept the fact that Wayne had broken her in every way imaginable.

Pinning him down with a spiteful glare, she growled, "I already have a shadow. I don't need another one."

Cullen set his jaw, his patience for her behavior at its end. Good. Maybe then he would finally leave.

"I'm just trying to—"

"I know what you're _trying_ to do!" she shouted at him, all of the anger, hatred, and disappointment she felt toward herself directed at Cullen. "But what you are _doing_ is suffocating me! I'm fine! I don't need your help!"

He did not deserve to be treated the way that she was treating him. Cullen had done absolutely nothing wrong. But Delani couldn't stop. No matter how badly she wanted his comfort, she couldn't accept it. Cullen was too good, and she deserved her pain.

Cullen set the mug of tea down on the shelf over the fireplace. Slowly moving his gaze back onto her, he locked her eyes with his and Delani nearly fell to her knees and begged for his forgiveness at the pain she found in his amber depths. _She_ was doing this to him. What kind of monster was she to make the man she loved suffer because of her own shortcomings? She was a terrible person. If he turned his back on her now she would completely understand.

"What do you want from me, Delani?" It was an honest question, and not the least bit malicious in nature, though somewhat impatient. "What do you need me to do?"

"I want you to leave me alone," she bit out. "I need you to go! Why are you even still here?"

His chest puffed up with his own anger. His patience was gone. Cullen was done trying to coddle her. Matching her volume, he answered her question. "Because I _love_ you, Delani!"

She immediately stilled with his confession, her eyes widening with surprise. Snapping her mouth shut, Delani carefully searched Cullen's handsome features and found only sincerity in his eyes. Cullen did love her, and she was trying so hard to push him away. Delani didn't deserve his love but she had it regardless.

Cullen's confession broke something inside of her and Delani fell to her knees. She could no longer suppress the torrent of emotions violently ripping her apart inside. Those three little words had destroyed her floodgates, and now everything that she had been bottling up inside came rushing out like a flood.

"But why?" she begged, unable to wrap her head around his words. "How could you?"


	22. Chapter 22

Cullen rushed to Delani's side, easing her off of her knees and into his lap so that she was not pressing any weight onto her bandaged ankle. With his back pressed against the side of the bed, he cradled her in his arms and held her to his chest as she cried. This was not how he had planned on confessing his feelings for her. Cullen had planned something romantic, there were supposed to be candles, and soft caresses, he was supposed to look deeply into her bottomless green eyes. He was _not_ supposed to shout his feelings out of anger and impatience, and she was most definitely not supposed to react like this.

Maker's breath, they were a mess. He rubbed her back as she cried, trying to wrap his mind around what she'd asked him following his confession. _Why?_ she'd hiccuped, tears brimming in her eyes, and something resembling self-loathing in her expression. _How could you?_

What a ridiculous pair of questions. How could Cullen _not_ love her? The very thought was impossible, incomprehensible. Pressing a kiss to Delani's brow, he breathed her in and held her tight before quietly asking, "Why is me loving you so hard to believe?"

She had not quite recovered from her tears, her face buried in the crook of his neck as she tried to regain control of her breathing. After a few minutes her breathing calmed from a hyperventilation to rough, ragged breaths and her voice shook when she answered, "Because I don't deserve you."

Cullen's hand froze on her back. What did she just say? "Why would you even say such a thing, Delani?" he gently demanded, needing clarification as to why such an outrageous thought had even taken shape in her mind.

Was that why she had been acting so cold towards him, why she had been barely able to hold his gaze? Because she thought that she was unworthy of him? Cullen shook his head. Where would she even get such a notion?

Sea green eyes peered up at him, swollen and watery as her chin trembled with a fresh wave of emotion. "Look at me, Cullen," she gestured over herself bringing his attention to all of her injuries and her current state of emotional distress. "I'm weak. I let those bastards capture me and I couldn't stop them from hurting me." Burying her face in her hands her sobs started anew.

Hysterically she cried, "I couldn't do anything to stop them."

Suddenly Cullen remembered Delani's confession to him those many weeks ago in the the garden. It had been just after their victory at Adamant Fortress. She had confessed to him what her greatest fear was: helplessness and inability. Ayden McGregor had taken Delani and placed her in a position where her greatest fears were realized. Grinding his teeth, Cullen regretted allowing McGregor to breathe a moment longer. He wanted the Maker forsaken bastard dead.

He said nothing for a little while, just held her as she cried. Her tears trailed down his neck and soaked through his cloak, and Cullen's heart broke for Delani. She should not have experienced the pain she had gone through, and she should most definitely not have been blaming herself for it. It wasn't her fault. He didn't understand how she could possibly think that it was.

Cullen knew that they needed to talk through this, lest she compartmentalize this as she had her father's death. He knew Delani, knew that she did not like to work through emotions that hurt too much. But he also knew that ignoring this pain would only hurt her more down the line. He'd witnessed for himself how a decade of unaddressed feelings of guilt had affected her. Cullen would not allow her to put herself through that again.

"You were ambushed, Delani," he reasoned, his tone firm yet gentle as he continued to hold her tightly against him, offering her his strength. "That was hardly your fault."

She shook her head, her face still hidden behind her delicate fingers. "I should have retreated when I saw that we were out numbered. I should have told the others to run, but I didn't. We stayed to fight and they nearly died because of it." Her shoulders shook violently as a new bout of tears wracked through her. "I _did_ die."

He held her tighter with her last three words. Cullen remembered Cole's narration of Delani's final moments. He remembered with perfect clarity how it had destroyed him to be without her. For those few moments his entire life had lost its meaning, his sense of purpose had disappeared, and Cullen had been left in ruins. He should have guessed that surviving her own death was not exactly easy for Delani to deal with.

Clenching his jaw, Cullen reiterated his earlier argument, "It was an ambush. You couldn't have been prepared—"

Ripping her face from her hands she pinned him with a furious glare, her anger was toward herself no matter how pointedly she stabbed her gaze into him. "I'm the Inquisitor, Cullen. That is my job, to be prepared, to make quick decisions and get my people out of every fight alive." Grinding her teeth, her gaze moved from his face to the open balcony doors. "My mistake could have cost me my team, our _friends_."

"Our friends survived," he reminded her watching her jaw work as she chewed on his words. "Our friends are battle hardened veterans. They are seasoned warriors and know when to retreat from a battle. If you insist on calling it a mistake, then at least realize that it was not yours alone."

"I'm—"

"Strong, capable, relentless, powerful," he supplied for her, knowing that she would have chosen a different set of descriptions. Tucking his finger under her chin, Cullen pulled her gaze back onto him and locked her sea green eyes with his. "You were held captive, bound and outnumbered, and you killed more than a dozen of your captors. Delani, you were far from helpless, you have to see that."

Tears started to well in her eyes again as she stared up at Cullen. She was searching his face as though the answer to all of life's questions lay hidden in his amber eyes. "But they hurt me, Cullen, and I couldn't do anything to stop them."

His heart shattered at the sound of the hopelessness in her voice. Delani had been forced to live her greatest fears, and was too consumed by her imagined shortcomings to see that she had survived because of her own strength and perseverance.

"The men who hurt you have paid for their crimes, _ma atishan,"_ he pressed his lips to her hairline and assured her, "I promise you." The only man that was left to deal with was Ayden McGregor, and Delani herself would be able to decide what would happen to the mage.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Delani pulled herself more tightly against him, and breathed out a shaky exhale. "But there will be others. There will _always_ be others."

That was the truth, and also what Cullen dreaded most. Each time Delani and their friends left the safety of Skyhold he feared that she would not return to him, and that had almost been the case. He'd nearly lost Delani, if it wasn't for her stubbornness and refusal to die Cullen would have been forced to taste what life would be like without her. But she hadn't died. Delani had fought, she had survived, she had endured, and he was more amazed by her now than he had ever been.

"And you will fight them, just like you always do," he countered, refusing to hear or think otherwise. Delani was not helpless, she didn't even know the meaning of the word. "They didn't defeat you, Delani. They might have made it more difficult for you to fight back, but you never stopped fighting."

Her breath caressed the skin of his neck when she whispered, "If you hadn't come for me…"

That was something that she would never have to worry about. Cullen had been lost without her, he'd have lost his mind if he'd stayed in Skyhold awaiting others to bring back the woman he loved. Tenderly combing his fingers through her auburn hair, he soothed her concern with the assurance, "I _did_ come for you. I will _always_ come for you."

Delani pulled away from him a bit so that she could more easily look into his eyes. Searching his face with desperation, she implored, "Because you love me?"

His insides turned with the sadness in her voice. Did she still believe herself to be unworthy of his love, undeserving of his affection? How could he prove to her otherwise? He looked into her eyes, holding her gaze as his brows knitted together with bewilderment. "How could I not, Delani?" asked Cullen, unable to see from where she had derived that logic.

When her lips twisted with doubt, he reminded her, "You are incredible." Cullen knew that he could say the words until he was blue in the face, whether or not she chose to accept them was her decision. But that wouldn't stop him from reminding her everyday, until the day he died, just how much he adored every single part of who she was.

Cupping her cheek in his hand, he continued, "You are strong, resilient, kind, compassionate, and stubborn as a mule," a very small smile hinted at the edges of her mouth, and Cullen was glad to see it. When a lone tear fell from her lashes, Cullen caught it with his thumb and brushed her cheek dry. He stared deep into her eyes as he said, "It is in your very nature to fight. You fight for the ones you love, you fight for what you believe, and you fight with a passion that takes my breath away. You have never been helpless, Delani. Even in the most dire situations you fight, and you survive, and deep down you know it to be true."

She clenched her jaw and her brows furrowed as she searched for the truth of his words. Sea green eyes moved from his face to look at the empty space over his shoulder before her gaze fell to his chest. A defeated sigh spilled from her nose before she quietly confessed, "I was so scared, Cullen."

Hugging her to his chest, Cullen breathed her in, before whispering, "So was I." He rubbed her arm as he held her, feeling her warmth through her tunic, and comforting himself with the feel of her presence, her safely in his arms. When he pressed his forehead to hers it was with the words, "The thought of losing you destroyed me."

Delani moved in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck so that she could press herself more tightly against him. Gooseflesh rose on the back of his neck at the feel of her exhales caressing his skin. Holding her, feeling her, being able to breathe in her scent was such an unimaginable comfort after what they had been through. Never again did Cullen want to release her from his arms. Never again did he want to let her out of his sight. Though he knew, some day soon, as soon as she was well enough, Delani would be leaving Skyhold's safety yet again.

When Delani spoke it was she who comforted him. "You didn't lose me," she said, reassuring him with a gentle kiss on the curve of his neck. "You found me, you brought me home."

His only reply was to wind his arms more tightly around her, squeezing her to his chest as he felt himself wade through the fear of losing her coupled with the relief of having her back in his arms. Cullen was glad to feel her warmth again, that she was no longer deflecting him with silence out of some ridiculous notion that she was undeserving of him. If anything, he was the undeserving one, and yet that wasn't going to stop Cullen from trying every day for the rest of his life to be a man worthy of her love.

It had not gone beyond his notice that she had not returned the words to him. Even though he felt that he understood why she hadn't, not hearing that his feelings were reciprocated made him a touch nervous. _Did_ Delani love him? Had she just not said the words because she was dealing with a menagerie of other emotions at the moment? Or did she not feel the same way about him as he did her?

Deciding it best not to dwell on those thoughts, Cullen loosened his hold on Delani and gently nudged her back some so that he could get a better look at her face. He took in the sight of her with a sigh. The cut on the side of her face was an angry red, the bruises under her eyes were so dark they were nearly blue, and her bronzy skin lacked some of its color. Delani was exhausted, and if she wanted her body to heal properly then she needed to sleep.

He combed her auburn hair back until his hand settled on the nape of her neck. Offering her a worried twist of his lips, he wondered, "How are you feeling?"

She pursed her lips as she considered his question. Delani held his amber gaze and, hooking her fingers under the collar of his breastplate, she pressed her palm to the metal and sighed heavily before making her confession. "Terrible," she groaned, her jaw tightening as she struggled to not show him the extent of the pain she was feeling. "Everything hurts and it feels like I've been run down by a stampede of angry druffallow."

Cullen's heart twisted with sympathy. He hated hearing that she was in pain, but reminded himself of the tea that would help with the discomfort. Deciding that he was finally going to take proper care of her, no matter how difficult Delani insisted on making it for him, Cullen secured his hold on Delani and stood onto his feet. Not for the first time, he marveled at how light weight she was. How did such a tiny little thing command so much authority, have so much strength and willpower? She was a fierce creature, and he was going to make sure that she was restored to her normal state of ferocity.

She made a surprised sound at being hoisted unexpectedly up from the ground. Cullen carried her over to the side of the bed and set her down on its edge. When he released her, he placed a kiss on the crown of her head before going back to the hearth where he'd left the tea kettle to stay warm by the fire. Preparing a fresh mug of tea, he strode back over to the bed and smiled at the sight of her gorgeous face scrunching up at the bitter smell of it.

"Drink," he insisted, holding the mug out toward her and beseeching her to take it from him. Delani gave him a pleading look but, when she saw that he would not waver, she accepted the cup from his hands and gently blew the rising steam from the lip of the mug. He didn't back away until she swallowed the first sip.

Satisfied that she could finish the beverage without his supervision, Cullen strode over to the love seat and collected the salve that he had left there. As Delani nursed her bitter smelling tea, he crouched down before her and opened the container of green colored paste. Knowing what he intended, Delani turned her face and allowed him easier access to the stitched up gash that traveled the length of her brow to her cheek bone.

Though he tried to be as gentle as possible, Delani still winced when he applied the salve to the cut. Apologizing for hurting her, Cullen continued to carefully dab the green paste onto her cut until his curiosity could no longer be denied. Without looking away from his task, he asked, "Did Ayden do this to you?"

Delani slightly shook her head, her jaw clenching as the movement accidentally pressed his fingers more roughly against her injury than he had intended. Before he could mutter another apology, she answered, "This one I did all by myself."

His eyes sought hers and he was met by her sidelong glance. "You did this?" he breathlessly demanded, confused as to what would make her do such a thing. Flabbergasted, Cullen asked, "Why?"

The exhale that fled through her parted lips was heavy and he could tell that her explanation would hold just as much weight. Cullen braced himself for words he did not actually want to hear, and further reminder that he had not been there to protect the woman he loved from danger. Unaware of how much her explanation would tear him apart inside, Delani recited the origin of the cut.

"One of McGregor's men, his name was Wayne, had repaid me for breaking his nose," she said with such nonchalance, as though the ordeal she had suffered were little more than an inconvenience. Cullen didn't know how to feel about her sudden flippancy on the topic. She had already cried and vented her feelings on the subject, perhaps the next step was to accept the events and move on; which was something that Delani seemed better able to achieve by pretending that the memory of the events didn't hurt her as much as they actually did.

Cullen didn't know what more he could do for her than just listen and offer her his strength. He would be with her through every step of her recovery, both emotional and physical. Delani would never be without his support again.

Speaking over his thoughts, she continued, "By the time that Wayne was done beating me, my right eye had swollen completely shut." His lips twisted with fury. Cullen was glad that this Wayne was dead. But if he could have risen the man from the dead to kill him again, he would have done it in a heartbeat. "While he had been beating me, I managed to steal the knife from his belt and hide it. After the camp had fallen asleep, I cut myself loose. Since I needed use of both of my eyes in order to kill every last one of those sons of bitches, I had to relieve the pressure from around the eye."

He stared at her for a moment, taking her in all over again. She was so strong, the strongest person that Cullen knew. Delani Lavellan did not deal with half measures. She fought with everything she had, and she survived no matter the cost. Screwing the cap back onto the small cylindrical container, Cullen placed the salve on the bed and turned Delani's face so that she would meet his adoring gaze.

Committing her every freckle to memory, Cullen breathlessly whispered, "You are incredible, do you know that?"

The smile that unearthed on her lips was earth shattering and his heart swelled at the sight of it. _Finally_ he had managed to pull free the Delani who had stolen his heart. The laugh was back in her eyes, the radiance back in her skin. Grinning down at Cullen, she said, "Yes, well, it takes one to know one."

Cullen returned her grin with one of his own. He was happy that the rift that had yawned between them was mending itself back together. He cared too much for Delani to be pushed from her side, even by her. Together they would overcome their insecurities, both hers and his. They had each other, even if she hadn't yet said the words back to him.

After a moment her smile was erased by a shrill, baby reptilian sounding yawn and Delani stretched her arms over her head, her joints popping as she twisted them out. Cullen was immediately aware of the dark circles under her eyes again. She needed to rest, and he was going to make sure that she got what she needed.

Picking up the empty mug from the mattress where she'd placed it, Cullen moved the sheets and patted the bed as he ordered her to, "Get under the covers, _ma atishan_. You need to rest."

Playfully she protested, "But I'm not even sleepy," and laughed when he pinned her with an unimpressed look. Crawling up the bed until she was under the covers, Delani grumbled, "Yes Sir, Commander Cullen, Sir," before wiggling herself deeper into the bed's offered comfort.

Unable to help the chuckle that rumbled out of him, Cullen pulled the blanket up to her chin and tucked her in. He brushed a kiss on her brow and turned to deposit the mug on her desk. Before he could step away from her bedside, Delani's hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist. When Cullen looked down to meet her gaze, he was confused to find panic in her beautiful sea green eyes.

"Can you stay with me while I sleep?" she whispered, fear easily heard in her soft voice.

His brows furrowed and his chest was filled with displeasure. What was she afraid of? Did bad dreams await her in the Fade, memories of captors who beat her senseless? The thought made him furious at what had been done to her, but his sympathy and love for Delani vastly outweighed his anger. The smile he gave her was reassuring.

"Of course I will," he said, his smile growing when she released his wrist with a nod.

Cullen crossed the room and placed the empty mug on her desk before he started to free himself of his cloak and his armor. Though everyone knew not to disturb him while he was attending to the Inquisitor, Cullen still had responsibilities to attend to. For the chance to spend the afternoon cuddled with Delani in his arms, he would gladly neglect those responsibilities for a few more hours.

Once he had undressed himself until he was in nothing more than his undershirt and breeches, Cullen crawled into Delani's enormous bed beside her. Moving her auburn hair over the pillow, he tucked his arm under her head before pressing her back to his chest and wrapping his arm around her middle. He brushed a tender kiss to her shoulder and she hugged his arm to her chest in reply.

After he had settled into the bed, content to hold Delani until the end of time, he felt her inch herself more closely to him before prompting, "Cullen?"

"_Hmm_?"

Delani looked over her shoulder at him and the corner of her mouth twisted into a warm grin. "I love you too," she confessed, rolling onto her back some so that he could see the entirety of her face.

Perching himself up on an elbow, Cullen stared down at the beautiful woman before him, gaping at her as his mind ran over the words again and again. Joy and relief thrummed through his veins. Deep down, on a level that he could not begin to explain, he knew that Delani loved him. But there was nothing like hearing the words and having his suspicions confirmed.

He caressed the side of her face before whispering, "Say it again."

Her smile grew and she complied, "I love you, Cullen." Combing her fingers through his hair, she held him by the back of the neck and locked his gaze with hers. "I always have, I always will."

His lips crushed against hers in a flash. Cullen couldn't help himself, he needed to taste her, to physically confirm that she meant those words and that the feelings would never change. She loved him! His heart fluttered in his chest, happiness bright in his veins like glitter dust. He had to remind himself to be gentle with her. She was recovering from injuries. It wouldn't help her any if he started pawing at her like a lustful, love drunk buffoon.

When he tried to pull away Delani locked her arms around his neck and made a noise of protest against his lips. Smiling, Cullen gently loosened her hold on his neck and managed to break free from her trap. A light laugh bubbled out of him and, adoringly, he stared down at the elven woman who held his heart in her delicate hands.

"My lady," he teasingly chastised her. "You need to rest."

Her bottom lip jutted out into a pout before easing back into a foxy grin. "I'm going to need you to tire me out before I can do that, Commander."

Brushing his nose against hers, he implored, "Rest, Delani. There will be plenty of time for that once you've had more time to heal."

Her pout persisted. She rolled back onto her side with a discontented _harumph,_ and pulled the covers up to her chin. "Fine. Deny your broken and battered Inquisitor the one thing she desires most in the world. See if I care."

Cullen couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. She could be utterly ridiculous at times, and his heart filled with such love with the knowledge. Kissing her shoulder again, Cullen settled back in behind her and hugged her against his chest once more. With her scent of wildflowers in his nose, he sighed, "_Ma'arlath, ma atishan_."

He could hear her smile in her voice when she repeated, "_Ma'arlath, vhenan'ara_."

No, this was certainly not the way that he had planned to confess his love for her, but Cullen was still glad with the end result. Delani loved him, she needed him, almost as much as he loved and needed her. He could not imagine ever being without her and, until his responsibilities could be ignored no longer, he would enjoy holding her while she slept for as long as he could.

Delani jolted up from her nightmare with a start. A cold sweat covered her brow and soaked through her camisole, sending a shiver to course through her body. Burying her face in her hands, Delani scrubbed the lingering images of the night-terror from her eyes and groaned at the painful scrape of her hand against the cut on her cheek and her tender face muscles.

Once her body stopped trembling from the nightmare's memory, it was for her to realize that the room was also rather chilly. She rubbed her arms and removed the comforter from her legs, reluctantly introducing her gooseflesh covered skin to the cold air of her chambers. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed she tried to get up, only to fall back down when the pressure of her weight on her ankle proved to be too much. Rubbing her fingers into her eyes again, Delani tried to gather her bearings.

Night had taken over the heavens, stealing the daylight from her room and leaving her with only the dancing flames of the low burning hearth to illuminate her chambers. With a glance to the other side of the bed, Delani noticed that Cullen had gotten up while she slept. When there was no response to her calling his name, she knew that he had left her chambers.

Upon rescanning the room Delani discovered that Cullen had moved her crutch to her bedside incase she awoke without him there, she assumed and smiled softly to herself at his consideration. She grabbed the crutch and tucked it under her arm. Without pressing any weight onto her bandaged foot, Delani pulled herself from the bed and hobbled over to the fire place. Fumbling a few logs into her grasp, she carefully placed them into the fire before stoking the flames, hoping to warm the room up a bit. Winter was upon Skyhold, and the nights were bitter enough to prove it.

Satisfied that the dry wood would catch fire, Delani looked over to the desk and an eyebrow shot up with curiosity. Set atop her writing desk was a wooden box that she didn't recognize. From where she was standing at the fireplace, she could tell that it was an old piece. The corners were chipped and worn, and the wood did not gleam with the polish of newness.

Drawn over by her curiosity, she made her way to the desk to examine the box more closely. Carefully placed on top of the rectangular wooden container's surface was a neatly folded note with her name beautifully scribed onto its surface. Immediately recognizing Cullen's handwriting, she picked the note off of the box and unfolded it.

_Delani,_

_Regretfully, I was pulled from your side while you slept by responsibilities that could not go without my attention. I swear to be quick but, should you wake before I return, know that I will be back with dinner and a healer. Also, I was going to give this box to you when you returned to Skyhold. Seeing as your arrival was a touch more dramatic than anticipated, I figured there to be no better way to lift your spirits than with a gift._

_The water in the kettle is still hot, should you need more tea. _

_Love,_

_Cullen_

She smiled, setting the note down on her desk before moving her attention to the box it had been resting upon. Her eyes widened with the familiarity of the leafless ornate tree carved onto the long, rectangular box's lid. The bare branches reached for the heavens, swirls and dips were fashionably carved into the wood, and Delani was mesmerized by the elven antiquity. The box alone was a gift beyond comparison, and still she was tempted to open the lid.

Carefully pushing away the lid, Delani opened the box to find a knife resting on a bed of velvet red. The hilt was a deep burgundy color, made from perfectly cured snoufleur skin. The sheath was made with the same meticulously crafted hide. It was sturdy in design, with lovely embellishments of leaf and flower covered vines that wrapped around the leather in a way that was both feminine and practical. Carefully removing the knife from its resting place, Delani pulled the blade from its sheath and her breath caught in her throat.

The spotless stormheart metal was intricately designed with twisting, curling, and dancing vines. More leaves and flowers decorated the blade, etched into its surface in a way that would not rob the knife of its practical uses. Inscribed along the center of the knife's long blade were the words _Not Luck But Love_, and Delani's heart melted.

Cullen had commissioned the making of this knife as a replacement for the one that she had given him. Her grin grew at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. Expertly testing the knife's weight and balance, she tossed the knife into the air and caught it by the hilt. She balanced it on her open palm before twirling it and tucking it back into its beautiful sheath. The grin that had expanded over her lips at the sight of the blade could not be wrangled from her mouth no matter how hard she tried.

The words on the blade hummed in her veins. _Not luck but love_. It was not luck that had brought her to the Conclave, but love for her clan. It was not luck that helped her to become Inquisitor, but love for the force she had become so invested in. Luck did not bring her back from the dead, but love for Cullen that made life worth living and fighting for. Luck would not help her defeat Corypheus; love would. Love for her clan, love for her friends, love for the Inquisition, love for Cullen, and love for the world as she knew it. It was said to be the most powerful force in the universe and, at the moment, Delani felt inclined to believe that notion wholeheartedly.

Clasping the coin turned necklace resting between her breasts, Delani fingered the warm metal and smiled. Thanks to Cullen she now had a wealth of both luck and love. She marveled at how such a man of his caliber could be real. How could one single person contain such love, faith, confidence, perseverance, loyalty, and understanding? But exist he did, which brought her to her next question: what had she ever done in her entire life to deserve him? Delani did not know, but she thanked the Creators for him all the same. She would strive everyday for the rest of her life to be the woman worthy of his love.

Carefully placing the knife back into the storage box, Delani shut the lid and traced the design on its surface. It was the symbol for Mythal, the great protector, the All-Mother, and the goddess of love, and Delani wondered if Cullen possibly knew the meaning behind the box that held his precious gift. Where had he gotten such a token, anyway? It was almost too much to take in. This gift was too great, and she had nothing but her appreciation and love to give him in return. Perhaps it would be enough.

She started at the sound of the door to her bedchamber opening. Turning to face Cullen as he entered, Delani didn't bother to try and hide the smile that had taken claim of her lips. She smelled dinner before she saw him past the banister, and her stomach rumbled in greeting of her human lover and the king's feast he'd brought with him.

Eyes immediately spotting her on the other side of the room, Cullen stated, "Ah, you're awake," a pleased smile on his lips as he carried the tray over to her desk. "And here I was hoping to serve you dinner in bed."

Delani's eyes fell shut as he placed a kiss to her brow before depositing her dinner on her writing desk. Grinning up at Cullen, she countered, "Bed's right over there, _vhenan'ara_. Give me a moment to hobble onto the mattress and you can feed me yourself."

He grinned down at her but whatever retort he was about to make was cut off by the sound of Solas's voice joining their conversation. "Then you should get to hobbling, _lethalan_. The healer and I have come to look you over before you eat."

Sighing, Delani did as instructed and started for the bed, only for Cullen to sweep her off of her feet and carry her the rest of the way. He set Delani down on the edge of the bed and stood to the side so that Solas and the young female mage could assess her condition.

Solas grabbed her anchored hand and examined the green glow. Shutting his eyes, his hand hovered over her open palm and he sucked in a deep breath. As he gauged the anchor's stability, the mage girl's hands felt Delani's every injury with gentle certainty. Her hands glowed with a golden light, and Delani felt it was her bones and muscles started to knit back together, the healing process sped along so that Delani could be back on her feet sooner rather than later.

The healer's hands made their way to Delani's ankle, where she focused the rest of her healing energy. A warmth spread through Delani's foot and up her leg as the injury mended. It felt like the first beams of sunshine stretching across the heavens, the beauty of a brand new day radiating from her ankle. Delani would never understand how healing magic worked, but she marveled at the beauty of it all the same.

Once the mage girl released her hold of Delani's ankle, she let loose a heavy breath and stood to her feet once more. She offered Delani a warm smile and informed her, "Your ankle should be feeling much better now. It will be tender still for a day or two, but you should be able to walk on your own now without any assistance."

"Thank you," said Delani with a grateful smile on her lips, rolling her ankle to test the mage's words. A subtle soreness creaked through her limb as she moved her foot, but it was nothing compared to what she had felt earlier. Happy to have regained her easy mobility, she breathlessly repeated, "Thank you so much."

The girl's smile grew and she bowed her head in acceptance of Delani's gratitude. "Your other injuries will need more time to heal, but I will be back tomorrow to see if we can speed the process along some more." When Delani voiced her thanks one last time, the healer politely dismissed herself from the room, leaving her and Cullen alone with Solas who was still inspecting her hand.

"The anchor is stable," he informed them, sounding relieved by the revelation. Smiling up at Delani, he squeezed her hand and said, "It is good to see you well, _da'len_. We were worried for you in your absence."

"_Emma eth, hahren_," she assured him, squeezing his hand in return. "There is no need to worry."

A tender expression grew on Solas's features and, gently, he cupped her cheek in his hand. It was an intimate gesture of the familial variety. Solas was dear to her, like the older brother she did not have. His blue eyes shone with both concern and relief, and Delani regretted that she had caused any of her friends to worry after her.

Small smile twisting the corner of his mouth, Solas replied, "No, I suppose there isn't." His gaze snapped to Cullen and his smile turned teasing. "Especially not with the Commander here to take such good care of you. You are in capable hands."

"Yes," Cullen easily agreed, winding his arms over his chest and quirking an eyebrow at the mage. "She is."

Solas bowed his head, ducking so that Cullen couldn't see his growing smile. He pushed himself back onto his feet and dismissed himself with a polite, "I will leave you both to it then. Enjoy your supper."

"Thank you, Solas," Delani returned. "Have a good night. I will see you tomorrow."

"Good night," he said in a final goodbye before descending the staircase and leaving her chambers.

At the sound of the door shutting behind the elf, Culled went over to the desk to retrieve their dinner and brought it over to the bed. Setting the tray down before Delani, he smiled at the eagerness in her face and the sound of her stomach rumbling in anticipation. Delani did not wait for him to sit on the bed and divvy up their portions before stuffing her face, her stomach didn't have the patience for it and neither did she.

Cullen watched her for a bit, a grin on his lips that only grew as she moaned in delight at the exquisite taste of dinner. After a minute of unabashedly witnessing her shovel food into her overstuffed mouth, he laughed and suggested, "Maybe you should slow down."

Delani shook her head, motioning her disagreement on the topic. "I can't remember the last time that I really ate something," it had to be over three days since her last decent meal. There was no way that she was going to slow down now.

He laughed through his nose and raised his hands in defeat. "Don't let me stop you, then."

His smile grew when she rebutted, "I was never going to," and ripped apart a piece of bread before popping the bite into her mouth. When Cullen laughed she allowed a teasing smile to emerge on her lips.

Now that her stomach had at least _some_ contents within it, Delani allowed herself to slow down from her hunger-crazed stupor. Using the bread to absorb some gravy, she met Cullen's gaze and smiled when she remembered the box still seated on the surface of her desk.

"Thank you for the knife," she said before bringing the bread to her mouth and thoughtfully chewing it over. When Cullen nodded as though it were nothing, she assured him that the gesture was the opposite of nothing, it was everything and he had to know that. "It's perfect, Cullen. The thought behind it was beautiful and the knife itself is a work of art. It was an incredibly thoughtful gift, and I love it nearly as much as I love you."

Though the expression on his face was elated by her words, his cheeks started to burn with a rosy color and he rubbed the back of his neck to disguise his reddening features. "I'm glad that you liked it. It seemed only right that I have another one made for you. I could not, in good consciousness, allow my beautiful huntress to go without a knife, after all."

"How very considerate of you," she responded with a laugh.

Finally managing to scavenge a few bites of supper for himself before she ate the whole damn tray, Cullen forked some mutton into his mouth and chewed it over, a smile on his lips as he held her gaze. "You are staring, my lady Inquisitor."

Shrugging indifferently, Delani rebuked, "I also happen to like what I see, Commander." When the tint of his cheeks turned rosy again, she requested, "You will stay with me tonight, won't you?"

Cullen's eyebrows shot toward his hairline before his eyes narrowed in reprimand. "You are supposed to be healing, Delani. I don't think that making love to you will help that process along any."

"I had no idea that you had such prolific knowledge of medicine, _vhenan'ara_," she said, pretending to be impressed by his baseless diagnosis. When Cullen gave her a playfully pointed look, she clarified her meaning. "You don't have to worry about me ravishing you, Commander. At least not tonight. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can. It's not everyday that I can monopolize your attention without the entirety of Skyhold trying to pull us apart."

His smile softened. reaching out to caress the curve of her cheek, the timbre of his voice was adoring when he said, "I'm not going anywhere, _ma atishan_. Tonight I am yours, as well as every other night until you banish me from your bed."

Her heart warmed with his words. She could not imagine that such a day would ever occur. The night that Delani did not want Cullen in her bed was the day that the sun rose in the west and set in the east. Creators, she loved him so much.


End file.

Dragon Age, Drama, Romance