Lavellan And Her Commander
"It's so good to see you Cassandra!" The grin that had broken out on the Inquisitor's face was genuine, excited to greet an old friend she had not seen in many years, "I mean- Most Holy."
Cassandra looked pleased, just as glad to greet her, "It is just 'Cassandra' to you."
They sat down in the sitting room of the Inquisitor's assigned quarters. Discussing matters of the Exalted Council, and catching up on the time that had been missed. As two people that had fought together, bled together and had become true friends regardless of the shaky beginning, they had a lot to discuss.
"Are you and Cullen-"
"Yes we're still-" She stopped abruptly, a sick feeling crawling up her stomach, and she covered her mouth as her eyes widened.
Cassandra watched, stunned, as the Inquisitor ran directly to the window and leaned out, retching noises began as soon as she threw the latches open. Always the problem solver, Cassandra went to the washroom and retrieved a bucket and cold wash-cloth, and sat down on the floor next to the Inquisitor by the window.
"Here, Herald." Cassandra rubbed circles on her back, and held out the bucket.
The Inquisitor collapsed against the wall with a groan, taking the offered bucket and leaning her head on the rim, face obscured from view.
"Are you ill? Do I need to ask for a healer?" Cassandra said, her hand clutching the Inquisitor's free one.
Lavellan immediately shook her head into the bucket with alarm, "I'm not sick I just -urrgh," She retched again, "Have to wait until it passes."
"Now really, you are obviously sick Herald-" Cassandra cut off with a small gasp, eyeing Lavellan's free hand as it rubbed at her stomach almost soothingly.
"Are you …" Cassandra's mouth was agape, a huge beaming grin about to bloom on the edge of her mouth.
The only reply she received was a very slow nod from Lavellan, face still buried in the bucket.
"Maker's breath!" Cassandra exclaimed, as Lavellen's head finally rose from the bucket, sweat making her hair cling to her forehead. She clutched at the wash-cloth Cassandra offered, wiping her face and mouth.
Cassandra was full to bursting with questions, but the first one she asked was; "Does he know?"
"… No." Lavellan's eyes were closed, her face calm, "I was going to tell him but … with everything that's been happening recently I haven't had the chance. In addition to that we're not … married." Lavellan placed both hands on her stomach, "The poor da'len decided to come at the wrong moment." She laughed, wiping her nose and sniffing.
This momentarily distracted Cassandra, "Do the Dalish have marriages?"
"Not formal ones… it's more like an oath… but that doesn't matter anymore because to them this," She gave a firm squeeze to her stomach, "Is an abomination."
Cassandra grew appalled, "Surely they-"
"No. To dally with someone who is not Dalish is shameful enough, but to bear their child, to make that oath to them? My clan would not understand, and they know enough about Cullen and I already to abandon me." This was not even mentioning that the child would not have any Dalish blood in their veins, that it -whatever gender it was- would look far closer to human than elven.
Instead of shock, Cassandra felt her anger spark, "This, can only be an amazing thing-" She reached out and placed her hand on Lavellan's, "And clan Lavellan has lost a treasure, and given us gift."
Lavellan laughed softly, "You've grown wiser oh-pointy-hatted-Divine." She and Cassandra shared a smile for a second, and then she looked down, at her stomach, "I'll tell him. I will. Today."
When Lavellan found Cullen -some hours later, when the sickness had well passed- he was play-wrestling with a dog. Lavellan had never seen a mabari, but she'd seen pictures, and the grey and white hound with odd amber eyes matched the image she had in her head. Well, aside from the fact that it did not look like a war-hound, and was wrestling with a grown man over a small red ball.
"Adalin!" He exclaimed when he saw her, voice muffled by the huge body of the dog as it lied on his face, "Get off me, pup!"
The mabari growled at the word 'pup', but rolled off him and barked happily at the Inquisitor.
She laughed, and knelt down to scratch behind his ears, "You found a dog."
Cullen stood and dusted himself off with a grumble, "They don't breed mabari in Orlais. The merchant said he was abandoned."
"Who could abandon such a handsome guy?" Lavellan crooned as the hound dropped on the ground and rolled over so she could scratch his stomach.
"Perhaps his owners tired of the novelty?" He tilted his head to the side, perplexed.
"That's horrid!" She declared, stopping her scratching and gently stroking the mabari's head as it sat up, "How could anyone get tired of you with your positive attitude and obvious fighting ability!" She beamed at the dog as it barked, and stood up so she could dust herself off.
Cullen scoffed at the red ball in his hands, "He was supposed to dodge it -if it were a fireball he would've gotten scorched."
Lavellan laughed again, "I don't think you know how this works."
Cullen grinned at her, but then his face grew tired and he rubbed at his temples, she could only touch his free hand lightly, as they were in public (and with the amount of spies in the Winter Palace, they had to be careful). He dropped the hand from his head, "Another Ferelden trapped at the Winter Palace - I couldn't leave him to that fate." He smiled at the mabari as he forced his head under Cullen's hand, "Besides -I think he likes me."
"You should take him to Farelden some time. He should know where he came from." Lavellan grinned at him.
He nodded, "I did promise my sister a visit, actually." Cullen frowned jokingly at the mabari, "She might try to spoil you. Remember who you report to."
The mabari barked happily in response.
There was a lull in the conversation, and Lavellan knew she should take advantage of it to tell him her… news. She opened her mouth to just tell him, get it out before she lost her nerve.
Too late, he was looking her right in the eyes with that tiny crooked smile on his lips and she couldn't say anything because, as she always was when he looked at her like that, her tongue tied itself into knots. She looked away -at the mabari- and listened as he spoke.
"The Inquisition will change after this … I'm not sure what that will mean." He said softly, his fingers brushing hers, "Still, I've found certainty in my life now; the council won't change that."
Lavellan glanced at him at the corner of her eye, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear. That's it, she thought, I need to tell him right now. This second.
Then, in the next breath, just as she looked directly into his eyes to tell him what was going to happen in nine months, she felt his fingers twine with hers, "Marry me," he whispered.
In her shock, Lavellan heard the mabari bark and inwardly laughed, but he'd successfully distracted her from what she was going to say, "What?!" She felt her heart beating against her ribcage like a drum.
"I mean, will you…" He let out a huff of air, hand cupping the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous, "I had a plan, and … there wasn't a dog … but you were … it doesn't matter." He mumbled nervously, with a firm shake of the head.
She turned to him to reply but there was a rustling in the bushes behind him, and the mabari began to growl. Lavellan glared into the bushes, at the spy probably listening on everything they'd been saying. "We're not alone here, Cullen. Let's go." She whistled, and the mabari followed them as she marched towards her quarters. She shut the door behind them and locked it, checking all the rooms and outside the windows for anyone before they continued. Thanking the Creators that she had rooms on the upper-levels.
He was standing beside the sitting area, face open and eyes on her as she came back into the room.
"I've thought of little else," Cullen admitted, eyes softening at the mabari, watching him in his wonderings around the room, "I don't need a plan… only to know if you would." He finished, finally getting to the end he let out a breath, eyes on her and that crooked smile about to bloom.
That's it.
"Cullen -well, that is to say that … I'm … pregnant." She finally got the words out, and she realised that this was the first time she'd said them out loud.
His mouth opened slightly, and his eyes travelled down to Lavellan's stomach and back up to her eyes. "You're …" He took an unconscious step forward, "That's …"
"Yours … yes. Cullen I know you just asked me to marry you, but it isn't just us anymore we have a third person to consider and in times such as these -what I mean to say is that I understand if you-" She was cut off by his arms quickly encircling her and crushing her tiny body to his.
He clutched at her as if she was going to disappear, face buried in the crook of her neck and laughter bubbling out of his throat, "Adalin… if you think this makes me want to retract my proposal …" She relaxed against him, wrapping her own arms around his shoulders, finally letting herself relax, she joined in on his laughter. Happiness and joy wrapping around the two like a warm blanket, they sunk to the floor.
His mouth found hers, and they kissed with smiles on their faces, and tears of joy at the edge of their eyes. They were kneeling on the ground, and the mabari had claimed one of the couches to their left.
Cullen pulled away, placed his calloused and scarred hands on Lavellan's stomach, but looked her in the eyes, "You haven't answered," he observed with a grin.
"I will! Cullen, I will marry you." She immediately responded, her heart telling her that this was the right thing. Despite what the Dalish in her kept repeating, she knew that Cullen (and the child that she was carrying) were meant to happen, and could only be great things.
This was right. This was perfect.
"Just so you know … everything was worth fighting for." He told her, reaching for her hands. Cullen had never seen anyone look as beautiful as she did, in the white gown she'd borrowed off Josephine, the sleeves gone and neckline plunging, exposing much of the snow-white vasaslin that stood out on her dark ochre skin, and snaked its way all over her body as he knew.
Her large green-gold eyes were focused on him, her expression adoring, and loving.
Maker, I hope this child takes after its mother … he thought to himself, swallowing and taking a deep breath.
"It was," she agreed, sharing a small smile with him.
He would go to the ends of the earth to see that smile.
"And now-" He meant to continue, however the mother doing the ceremony interrupted, "Now is the part where you make a promise."
"An oath," Lavellan corrected, her teeth showing with her beaming grin.
Cullen cleared his throat, and nodded, "I swear unto the Maker and to the Holy Andraste-"
"And the Creators-" Lavellan interjected, to which she saw his lips twitch.
"And to the Creators, to love and cherish this woman the rest of my days." He felt his eyes glance down at her belly, and felt his throat choke with emotion at the thought of their child, "On this oath, I swear that any children born of us will grow up loved, and safe in the world that we have fought to save."
Lavellan's eyes had tears at the corners, and he reached up, cupped her face and wiped them with his thumbs. Leaning forward, their lips brushed gently at first, then the pressure increased, and Lavellan reached to tangle her hands in his hair as they kissed, and sealed their new found status together, as partners for the rest of their lives.
It was familiar, to be standing at a war table discussing and arguing over disastrous events, it almost seemed like old times.
However, there were a few differences.
Corypheus was not back at their doorstep; no, this time it was the Qunari. Using and abusing elven magic to twist it into starting their war, Lavellan was frustrated, tired, and frightened.
The pulses in her mark were getting worse.
It had been enough to hide them from when they were nothing more than an irritation. No one noticed her when she put her hands behind her back and pressed her thumb into the mark as hard as she could to put pressure on it so it wouldn't hurt. She figured it was good practice. But now? Now the searing pain had green lights accompanying it, and even though she knew to wear gloves, the marks light had always burned through at its strongest.
She'd thought … there'd be more time. She had no idea how to break it to Cullen, that the happy ending that had been only a few paces away was now seeming like an impossibility.
Josephine turned to Leliana, her voice more drawn out and nowhere near as energetic as usual, "Your agents confirm that there were gaatlok barrels in Denerim's palace?"
Leliana sighed with frustration, she'd already said so, and hated to repeat herself, "Yes. And in Val Royeaux, and across the Free Marches. The Winter Palace is not the only target."
Cullen looked between them, eyes eventually settling on Josephine, "The Qunari are one order from destroying every noble house in the known world."
She sighed, "There is a bright side, warning the ambassadors will remind them of the Inquisitions value." Lavellan admired Josephine's ability to always attempt to find the silver lining and point it out, and nearly complimented her on it but held her tongue.
"Not when the Inquisition is responsible for that threat." Leliana disagreed, arms meeting behind her back.
Lavellan eyed her, "I take it you have new information."
"The elven servant handling the barrels has disappeared. Notes in his quarters suggest he was a Qunari Spy." She reported, voice even.
Josephine interrupted, "But the servant was Orlesian, that implicates Orlais, not us." She vehemently declared.
Leliana maintained her level reporting tone as she quipped back, "But the barrels arrived at the Winter Palace on the Inquisition's supply manifest."
Cullen sighed in frustration, rubbing at his forehead with one hand, "How are we supposed to fight a war when we can't even trust our own people?" He demanded.
Lavellan quietly agreed with him. She had never understood the reason for the Game, or why people felt the need to sneak around what could be said out loud and directly to peoples faces. But she played anyway, because as the Inquisitor it didn't matter what her beliefs were, only that what she was doing was good for all.
She took a deep breath, "Do you know who got the barrels onto the Inquisition manifest?" So I can zap them with chain-lightening? She asked, finishing the sentence in her head. But she bit her tongue, as she always did, when she knew she would say something foolish.
"Yes," Leliana shuffled her feet, "Several of the Inquisition's elven workers have gone missing. I had their backgrounds checked. They joined the Inquisition after fleeing the chaos in Kirkwall."
They all glanced at Cullen, but he was looking contemplative, "I remember when Kirkwall was at its worst. Many of the cities elves converted to the Qun to find a better life."
"And the Qunari turned them into spies," Josephine finished, eyes desperately sweeping the table in front of them.
Lavellan scoffed, fed up, "A few years ago we riled at the Templars for becoming corrupt, we did the same to the Grey Wardens. Now look at us."
Josephine heavily sat down in one of the chairs, breath leaving her in an exhausted rush, "I fought to protect the Inquisition in this Exalted Council. And for what?" She looked at the faces around the table, "So we could deceive and threaten those we claimed to protect?"
Cullen turned to her, jaw clenched in anger, "Once we locate the spies-"
She jumped up from the chair, standing her ground, "This isn't about the spies! You hid the Qunari body. You've all but seized control of the Winter Palace!"
"We did what was right. Not what was politically convenient!" Cullen disagreed.
"Do you know what this has cost us with Orlais and Ferelden? They are planning to dismantle us as we speak!" She looked towards the wall, her voice weakening, "And perhaps they are right-"
Without any warning, Lavellan cried out in pain as her mark flared up. The green light snaking all the way up to her elbow. She had to keel over to get the pain under control, "Argh!" She cried, the unnatural green light of the mark reflecting off the dark colours of her skin. Elven ears low and breaths shallow and haggard. She clutched at her wrist as if trying to cut off the pain stemming its way up her arm from the mark.
She looked up, eyes stinging with the pain, to see her advisors slowly walk around the war table, silent for the first time in hours. She couldn't bite her tongue any longer, she had to let them know, if she was going to die (lose everything as soon as she let herself have it), then she was going to complain as much as she liked.
Lavellan had not voiced one word of complaint. Not once since this whole thing had started.
The mark flared up again, and she screwed her face up against it, "Shit! Damnit!" She swallowed bile as it tried to leave her stomach, "We save Ferelden, and they're angry! We save Orlais, and they're angry!" She forced herself to stand taller, pacing around in watching the green light of the mark's pulsing bounce off the walls in a garish display, "We close the Breach, twice, and my own hand wants to kill me!" She held the aforementioned hand in front of her face, glaring at it, "Can't anything in this fucking world just stay fixed?!" She cried, finally getting to say what she'd always wanted to.
Cullen had already known her thoughts, they shared everything with each other, but Leliana and Josephine looked aghast.
She gripped the bridge of her nose, and concentrated on the first step, as always, "I need to get to the Darvaarad. You can fight amongst yourselves once I'm-" She couldn't say gone, not once she saw Cullen's face, "Once I'm back."
Cullen rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her, as if he knew it might be the last time. Lavellan knew he didn't want to let her go. Her husband. He wanted her to stay, take care of herself and their unborn child, the world could wait to be saved by someone else. But he knew that wasn't who she was. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled his scent one last time before pulling away.
"Thank you. Inquisitor." Leliana nodded, her eyes downcast and sad.
"Would you …" Josephine's brow was furrowed, her voice melancholy, "Would you like us to inform the Exalted Council of the danger?"
"Yes." Let them know what they're putting me through, "If we fail the Council needs to know what happened."
"I will inform them personally." Leliana nodded, her eyes steeling.
Josephine's voice softened, "Leliana… I can-" Her words caught in her throat.
"No." Leliana vehemently shook her head, "Your job is hard enough already. This is my responsibility."
Cullen motioned with his hand, but his eyes had never left Lavellan, "I'll have guards ready at the eluvian. In case the Qunari attack the palace," He said.
Lavellan nodded, her unmarked hand reaching for the door, "Maker watch over you." Leliana prayed.
"Creators watch over you." Cullen's voice was hard, as if he was staving off emotion.
Lavellan couldn't bare to turn back, if she did she knew she wouldn't leave him.
She had to stay strong. Do whatever she could to return to them, the only family she'd had for three years, her adopted clan. Go to any lengths possible, simply to survive.
Cullen had always known that the Inquisitor could protect herself. He knew that no matter what they were facing, what troubles she would find herself in, that she would fight as hard as possible to return. Because that was who she was; a survivor. She'd lived through closing the breach, twice. She'd lived through physically being in the face, twice. She'd faced down Corypheus with barely a quiver in her hands.
And she'd always come back to him.
They'd shared their deepest fears and insecurities with each other, trusted that the other person would know exactly what to say to offer comfort and safety.
But this time, this time there was nothing he could say.
Recently married, he'd hoped that they would be able to live their new lives out together with their child. The ray of sunshine that they'd been granted in these desperate situations. Now it didn't matter what he'd thought … he could lose it all.
He could not stop watching the eluvian.
Watching the landscape of the fade on the other side shift and change and move, almost wanting to reach out and step into it, to follow in his wife's footsteps. He he'd always known she'd come back, and he had complete faith in her skills, but now he couldn't help but worry. It wasn't her alone that he worried for, although the dread he felt in the pit of his stomach was all encompassing, he worried for their child.
Maker, what if she didn't come back?
Hands shaking, he couldn't stop himself from pacing in front of the eluvian and the soldiers stationed beside it. There had been days where withdrawal was at its absolute worst, and besides the uncontrollable quivering, and the ache that each individual bone echoed through his body. Not to mention the migraines. Suddenly, the dull pain that had accompanied him ever since he'd left the Templars behind him seemed small compared to the giant sense of foreboding and dread hanging over his head.
His breathing was shaky, and he was about to bark more orders at the soldier on the left of the eluvian who appeared to be almost falling asleep at his post when he heard a small crack coming from the eluvian.
It took all of two seconds to register what was happening, and Cullen dove out of the way as three people charged out of the rippling surface of the mirror.
Immediately standing, he counted the people who were lying on the ground catching their breath. Varric, hands still clasped on Bianca as if he still intended to fire, Thom Rainier, leaning over and clutching his side as it appeared to be bandaged, Sera as she concentrated on helping her friend, tears streaming down her face as she threw a broken bow to the side. All of them were covered in blood and grime, as if they'd been slogging through hell and had returned to tell the tale.
Cullen opened his mouth to demand where Adalin was, when suddenly The Iron Bull charged horns first out of the eluvian hammer bloodied and eyepatch missing, a scowl on his face, "Vashedan!" Turning, he spat a mouthful of blood on the ground.
Cullen didn't give them a chance to breathe, not even stopping to wonder why Bull had suddenly appeared when he'd been left behind, "Where is she!?"
Sera whipped blood and sweat out of her still wet eyes, "She went through one of those bloody mirrors!"
Varric, breathing still ragged, continued where Sera stopped, "It sealed behind her, Curly. We couldn't get through - the remaining Qunari chased us out."
Cullen felt his stomach drop, his throat drying up at the news. He felt frustration surge through his veins, and he heard his knuckles crack as his fists clenched in utter rage. She's gone, she's not going to back, the words played on repeat through his mind, as if they'd been seared there forever. Loss surged through his veins like fire, suddenly he was mourning her and he wasn't even sure if she was dead. But … she couldn't dead, she … it just couldn't compute in his mind what he was thinking. IT just would not process.
Clutching his sword, "I'm going in after her," He declared, stepping towards the mirror, still rippling from the many people coming through it.
Then he spied a spot of colour in the surface … blue and silver … her robes! Dropping his sword, he started pushing the others out of the way, then he turned to the soldier, "Go get a healer! Now!" He ordered, he needed her to be ok immediately as she came through, and even if she wasn't injured, Rainier still needed one for his wound.
He felt his brow furrow, noticing how slow the progress of the colour was, how close to the ground. Then a blood-covered hand reached through, and the rest of Inquisitor Adalin Lavellan crawled through the mirror.
At first he felt complete relief, and he knelt in front of her, crushing her immediately to his chest and murmuring into her blood coated hair, "Thank the Maker," He whispered, but then he felt her go limp, unconscious in his arms. And he pulled away to assess the damage. As soon as he noticed her arm -or rather, what was left of it- his eyes widened, and he picked her off the ground to carry her to the healer himself.
"Cullen. Let. Me. Up. Now." She ordered, her voice severe, "I need to get into that council meeting."
It appeared as if he was going to stop her, "You need to rest. Josephine-"
"Will not last long." She pointed at the writ, resting on her legs, "I need to settle this. Once and for all. Help me up."
He sighed, knowing that Adalin would go even if she had to crawl there herself -with one arm and all. He helped her change into the formal attire, rolling up the sleeve of her bandaged stump to display the injury proudly, as an honour. Because that's how they both saw it.
He stayed at the back of the room, watching as his wife marched in on the Exalted Council.
They were saying, "If the Inquisition is to continue, it must to so as a legitimate organisation. Not as a glorified mercenary band!"
Lavellan halted next to Josephine, who looked shocked to even see her standing up, let alone ready to fight with her for the Inquisition, "Inquisitor?"
With her only remaining hand, she brandished the writ and held it high enough for all to see, "You know what this is?" She turned, and then met the eyes of the people on the council, "A writ. From Divine Justinia authorising the formation of the Inquisition." Her voice echoed throughout the hall, and Lavellan turned to face the people crowded around, "We pledged to close the breach, find those responsible, and restore order." She turned and spied Cassandra, up on the podium with the rest, "With or without anyone's approval." Who with a small quirk of a smile, nodded at her.
"But … if the Inquisition now threatens the very stability it helped create, it is clear our time is done." She swallowed, sure that this was what was necessary, but loath to end her life's work with only a few words.
She spied Cullen behind the crowd, and he urged her on with only a nod and an encouraging smile that pulled at the scar on his lip, "We will not become what we once fought against." Her voice softened, "We do not have the luxury of corruption and complacency." She looked down, then turned back to the Council, "If this organisation has become too large to do its job, there is only one solution." She turned to Josephine, sadness in her eyes, handing the writ to her and meeting her eyes, "Effective immediately … The Inquisition is disbanded."
Commotion erupted in the hall, but the only Lavellan could concentrate on was placing one foot in front of the other, to make her way out of the hall and back to her quarters where she should be resting. Cullen wrapped his arm around her waist as she passed, silently offering his support of her decision and her as she struggled to remain upright.
And the next day they both marched out of the Winter Palace, their future suddenly freed and spread out before them, welcoming the two now retired veterans with open arms.
Is anyone else obsessed with idea of Papa!Cullen? Is it just me?
SO this is a simple Oneshot of Adalin Levellan as Inquisitor, romancing Cullen through the events of trespasser. I thought I'd put my own spin on some things, just because I could. I just love them both so much. Adalin, originally was just a Dalish rift mage that wasn't Inquisitor in the main fanfic that I've tackled, but I wanted to write about Levellan and Cullen, who which was actually my first complete play-through of DA: Inquisition.
There MIGHT be a bonus chapter? Not too sure? Well, when I try to write one thing I usually end up getting brain-waves for something completely different so tbh there's gonna be a bonus chapter. Won't be long though :D
Review please? Let me know what you think! If you wanna meet their kid in the bonus chapter *hint hint*
Anyway, thanks for reading!