She's green, Cullen thinks to himself. Her eyes glow like veilfire, matching the bright malachite vallaslin that branches out across her dark face. A tree takes root from her chin and spreads across her lips, crawling over her nose and expanding across her forehead, the branches wrapping around the eyes that twinkle like green stars through green leaves. Red hair tumbles across the vallaslin, striking a contrast against her skin and eyes, catching the light of the breach and giving her an unearthly halo.
She's green like a fairy of ancient myth or a terrible dragon. The anchor on her hand glows with an unholy, almost demonic, green light as she seals the rifts that have torn the world asunder. The fade marked her, made her more than she was, and set her apart from all of them. She's unnatural, his mind would whisper to him during the nights when his body craved lyrium more than it craved breath. She's green, like a demon with hair the color of desire, and she must be cleansed. But that wasn't true.
She's green in other, more important, ways. She is terribly naïve and idealistic which are traits he would not have associated with the Dalish. She seems eager to help, to see the goodness in everyone and everything, regardless of race or origin. Cullen doesn't think she's even seen her eighteenth summer. She's idealistic, in the way that only the very young or very stupid can be and, though Cullen often finds her idealism infuriating, he knows he would do anything to keep her from losing it for as long as she can.
Color symbolism, thy name is Cullen Stanton Rutherford
Planning on making this a series of one shots