A knock came to Cullen's door in the middle of the afternoon. "Come in!" he called, looking up to see a runner breathing heavily.

"Commander, an elf just arrived at Skyhold," the runner said. "They said to come get you right away."

"An elf? Any elf in particular?" Cullen asked, eyes narrowing, wondering if Solas had finally decided to show his face again after disappearing, again, after the battle with Corypheus.

The running shrugged. "He has white hair and tattoos, but I wasn't informed of his name."

"Fenris? Could it be?" Cullen mused to himself, getting up from his desk. "I'll be right down."

The runner nodded and ran back to inform the guard captain at the gate, who was undoubtedly detaining the new arrival.

Cullen strode purposefully from his office, down the stairs and towards the gate, where it was indeed Fenris, arguing with the guard captain, surly as ever.

"Fenris!" Cullen exclaimed, greeting the elf. "What brings you to Skyhold?"

"Cullen!" Fenris breathed, stumbling over to him. "Is it true? Is what Varric wrote me true? About…about Hawke?"

That's when Cullen noticed how red rimmed and blood shot the elf's eyes were, and how deep and dark the circles were beneath his normally sparkling green eyes.

Cullen nodded tersely. "I'm afraid so, Fenris. Hawke was lost in the Fade during the battle at Adamant."

Fenris crumpled to his knees before him, sobs wracking his form, exhaustion and grief getting the better of him. The warrior wailed loud and long. "Noooooo!"

Cullen felt heart sick for the poor elf, who had been a constant companion and lover to the indomitable Garrett Hawke. Cullen had seen much of them in Kirkwall before…everything.

Cullen bent to pick up the elf, cradling his weeping form in his arms, he carried him towards his office, leaving the guard-captain with a baffled look on his face.

Cullen carried Fenris all the way back up the stairs to his office. He gently put him over one shoulder and climbed the ladder to his loft, and gently laid him down onto his bed. The elf was inconsolable and there wasn't much Cullen felt he could do, but wrap the elf in blankets to keep him warm.

Cullen then went down and summoned a runner, requesting a meal and a bottle of wine be brought to his quarters. Afterwards he went back up to check on Fenris, brushing his long bangs out of his eyes.

Fenris looked up at Cullen. "Where…where is Varric? Was he there when it happened?"

Cullen nodded in response to the second question. "I'm afraid Varric left to return to Kirkwall just last week. Now that the breach is closed and Corypheus defeated, he felt he was needed there more than here. I also don't think he's quite forgiven the Inquisitor for leaving Hawke behind."

"Were you there?" Fenris asked.

"I was commanding the army at Adament, yes," Cullen confirmed. "However, I did not fall into the Fade with the Inquisitor and his companions."

"Why? Why did the Inquisitor leave him?" Fenris asked, his voice cracking. "Didn't he know…I couldn't live without him?"

"From the debriefing we had, I understand it was a tough call. He had to choose between leaving Warden Alistair in the Fade, or Hawke. Apparently, they both argued that they should stay, and Hawke convinced Mahanon that Alistair was needed to rebuild the Grey Wardens. He insisted on being the one to stay."

"Of course he did," Fenris snorted derisively, sounding a little more like himself. "Always putting himself in impossible situations, thinking he could muddle his way out like he always did. Just because he survived Ostagar, the battle with the Arishok and the aftermath of what Anders wrought in Kirkwall…he felt he was invincible."

"He was named the Champion of Kirkwall for a reason," Cullen recalled. "He did seem a bit…invincible."

"What…what am I supposed to do now?" Fenris asked rhetorically, burying his face in his hands again.

Cullen reached out and pulled the hands away, forcing Fenris to look at him. "You move on."

"How?" Fenris asked

"You take things one day at a time," Cullen said. "That's what I had to do."

"You…lost someone you were close to?" Fenris looked up at him.

Cullen frowned. "Its…actually more complicated than that, but yes. I have known my share of loss."

Fenris looked at him quizzically. "Tell me?"

Just then there was a knock from below. "One moment," Cullen excused himself.

Cullen climbed down and accepted the tray of food and bottle of wine from the servant. "Thank you," Cullen acknowledged, before carrying placing it down on his desk. "Please inform the others that I will be taking the rest of the day off, and to not to disturb me." The servant nodded and left while Cullen locked the three doors to his office.

Then Cullen grabbed the tray and tucked the bottle of wine under his arm and used the other to climb the ladder back up to his loft. He set the tray of food down onto a table he kept in the corner and proceeded to open the bottle.

"As I recall, rumor had it you were quite fond of wine?" Cullen asked, offering Fenris the bottle.

Fenris accepted the bottle mutely, taking a long drink. "Thank you. So tell me about your experience with loss. Please?"

Cullen took a deep breath and a swig from the wine bottle when Fenris offered, after settling down on the edge of the bed.

"How much do you know of what happened at the Ferelden Circle at Kinloch Hold?" Cullen asked.

"Not too much. I had heard it had been infested by blood mages and abominations during the blight, and that only one Templar in the tower proper survived," Fenris recalled. "Kaffas, were you that Templar?"

Cullen nodded solemnly. "I watched my fellow Templars become possessed and worse. I was tortured for weeks by Uldrich and the demons he'd summoned. They taunted me with visions of the one mage I'd been foolish enough to fancy."

"You…fancied a mage?" Fenris seemed shocked. "You didn't even view mages as human when I knew you in Kirkwall."

"I was very young, just barely nineteen. I had been newly assigned to Kinloch Hold. She flirted with me and I developed a crush," Cullen blushed at the memory. "But all that was ripped away from me by Uldrich and his blood mages."

"I…understand," Fenris said, reaching out to pat Cullen's hand in comfort. "I too was tortured by blood mages once."

"I don't think I know much about you before you came to Kirkwall," Cullen admitted. "I was a bit busy dealing with everything going on in the Gallows at the time so I never bothered to inquire."

Fenris took a deep breath then. "I am originally from Tevinter. At least my earliest memories are from there. I don't remember much from before I received these," Fenris indicated his markings.

"Wait, you're an elf," Cullen began putting the pieces together. "Were you a slave?"

"Yes," Fenris admitted.

"I'm so sorry, Fenris," Cullen apologized. "I had no idea. Somehow I had it in my head you were just some mercenary who decided to join up with Hawke."

"Well, by then in a way I was," Fenris admitted. "Although I was still running from my Master at the time. Danarius invested a lot in creating me and he wasn't about to let me go so easily. I had been on the run for three years when I met Hawke."

"Invested in you how?" Cullen asked, confused.

"Don't you know by now how valuable my markings are?" Fenris asked, lighting them.

Cullen jumped back when he felt the lyrium sing to him. "Maker, those are…lyrium?"

"Yes," Fenris acknowledged. "They were grafted into my skin and stole my memories. My earliest memories were of the pain having these carved into my flesh."

"How…did you possibly survive that?" Cullen asked, stunned. He felt the pull, the craving to touch the brands. He was grateful when Fenris turned off his markings as they faded back to their normal white.

Fenris shook his head. "I don't know. I just know that I did."

"I remember hearing about your abilities," Cullen recalled. "I guess I had long assumed you were just another apostate. I had thought you a battle-mage since you were so well versed in swinging that large sword."

Fenris snorted at that. "I have never trusted mages. Not after what Danarius and his apprentice Hadriana did to me."

"Yet you were friends with apostates?" Cullen queried.

"No, I was never friends with Anders or Merrill," Fenris shook his head. "I tolerated them because of Hawke, that is all."

"How…how did you become involved with Hawke?" Cullen asked.

"I…tricked him into helping me fend off some slavers who were in Kirkwall hunting me," Fenris explained. "He had been kind and I decided to trust him and I agreed to help him whenever he needed another swordarm in his party. He kept flirting with me…for years. I finally gave in."

Cullen smiled. "Hawke did have a certain…charm…about him, didn't he?"

Fenris nodded, and tears threatened to spill from his eyes again.

"Maker, I'm sorry," Cullen said. "I hadn't meant to remind you…"

Without warning, Fenris crawled across the bed to where Cullen sat and curled himself against the ex-Templar. Cullen put his arms around the elf and just held him as he sobbed out his grief again. Once he had stilled he pulled back and looked at Cullen full of embarrassment. "I'm…sorry. I am taking Hawke's loss…harder than I expected to."

Cullen smiled down at him. "It's alright. I'm glad to help and it's nice to have another old familiar face here now that Varric is gone."

"Now that Hawke is gone, and I'm no longer on the run from my Master," Fenris sighed. "I don't know what I'll do with myself."

"Well," Cullen said thoughtfully. "We can always use another Warrior with the Inquisition. Many of our soldiers returned home after the battle with Corypheus. We had no cause to keep them here."

"If you feel I could be of use," Fenris nodded. "I would like to stay."

"Come and eat something," Cullen indicated the tray of food. "I'll go requisition you some quarters."

Fenris nodded and walked over to the tray while Cullen climbed down the ladder and sent for a runner.

...

A couple of hours later, Cullen was escorting Fenris to one of the newly renovated rooms in the tower closest to his along the ramparts. It was quite spacious, but with as many people that had left the Inquisition since the breach had finally been permanently closed, there was more room at Skyhold and no one had claimed the room.

The room had been furnished with a decent sized bed, a dresser, and a desk. They had put in a small seating area in a corner with two plush chairs, a small table and a bookshelf as well. As a tower room, it also included a loft like Cullen's, but that remained unfurnished.

"This…is all for me?" Fenris asked.

"Yes," Cullen nodded. "This room has been recently renovated and we have received so many gifts from allies over the past year, we have more than enough to furnish and outfit several more rooms like this. If you would like some additional furnishings for your loft, please let me know."

Except for the decrepit mansion Fenris had occupied in Kirkwall, Fenris had never had a room like this of his own before. He had lived in a luxurious mansion on Danarius' estate, but he'd only ever been given a palette to sleep on, when he wasn't tasked to kneel and serve his Master in whatever way the blood mage had required of him.

Cullen turned to leave. "Will you be alright? If you need anything, my tower is just across the way."

Fenris nodded. "Thank you Cullen. You have already been too kind."

"Alright, I'll leave you to it," Cullen nodded. "Come see me tomorrow after first light, and we'll discuss your duties."

Fenris nodded and Cullen left him.

...

As Cullen entered back into his office, his mind drifted back to Fenris. He hadn't seen the elf in over five years, not since the battle after Anders had blown up the Chantry. He had let Hawke and his companions escape Kirkwall after that final battle, when Meredith finally showed how far she had fallen, into the grip of insanity from the red lyrium in her sword.

Cullen recalled being captivated by the elf from the first time he'd seen him. There had always been something different about Fenris. The fact that his tattoos were actually brands of lyrium was something he would never have guessed.

He felt sorry for Fenris and his loss. Hawke had been such a…force of nature. It was still difficult to imagine he was gone. Cullen had appreciated his help on numerous occasions when it concerned tracking down all the blood mages in Kirkwall. Hawke had been far more effective than many of the men under his command. Losing someone like that left a large void, especially to those who truly knew and cared about him.

Cullen thought back to the few moments he'd held Fenris as he sobbed out his grief in his arms. A warm sensation washed over him and he quickly tried to push it aside. It wouldn't do to think of the elf in such terms.

And yet…