A/N: Every word of this story is going to be shameless fluff. Shameless happy fluffy fluff. Fluffity fluff fluff fluff. You've been warned. I just couldn't get it out of my head so I figured, eh I'll just start writing and see what happens. Which, sad to say, is how pretty much all of my stories start. It's all in good fun anyway.

Chapter 1

Honored Inquisitor/Dearest Sister,

First, I apologize for not responding sooner to your letter. Rest assured we were all of us very happy for you when we read the news of your betrothal. Father understands that the two of you are unable to travel at your leisure given your responsibilities. In fact he is impressed at your dedication to your duty and pleased you wrote to us about it before you decide to publically announce. He was especially impressed that the Commander took the time to personally write to ask for his blessing. The gesture was well received.

Father was, however, concerned that he might be seen as late in presenting your dowry. He did not want it to seem as if you were not properly provided for simply because you had planned on entering the Chantry. Thus, nearly as soon as we read your letter, he made sure to arrange the expected offering. It is possible it will already have been delivered by the time you read this. We've sent a retinue to present it to the Commander's mother in keeping with Ferelden traditions.

I told him he should have simply sent it directly to Commander Cullen at Skyhold. As the man spent so much time in the Marches, I'm certain he would be aware that is typically how dowries are presented here. But you know how father likes to be appropriately formal, especially in situations such as these. You will please thank Lady Montilyet for providing us with the necessary information regarding the Commander's family during her recent visit with us to see that it arrived to the correct household.

The Ambassador also informed us that you should have a lull in your duties to the Inquisition soon and should be able to pay a visit home and introduce us officially to the Commander. We look forward to it.

With love and congratulations, your brother, Warren T.

...

The letter fluttered out of Evelyn's trembling hand and landed softly on the floor.

Shit.

She broke into a run. She ran down stairs, then up stairs taking them two at a time. She dodged three Lords, a Templar, and she practically hurdled poor Varric. She shouted what could possibly pass for an apology over her shoulder at him without allowing herself to slow down.

Shit. Shit.

She burst outside, squinting at the sun, running in the direction of Cullen's office. Maybe they could stop it. Maybe they could mitigate this somehow. Cullen could send a letter to his family on Leliana's swiftest raven, or she could try to intercept the retinue from Ostwick on the road. She didn't know, but there had to be something, something!

Shit. Shit. Shit!

She cursed the storm that delayed her brother's letter. She cursed her father's damnable propriety. She cursed fool noble customs and most of all she cursed herself for letting this happen.

She burst through Cullen's door only to see that he had his own letter in his hands. She froze. He was standing, the correspondence hanging limply from his fingertips. He had a strange bewildered expression on his face.

Shit!

He turned to address her. "I've just received the most...interesting letter from my sister..."

Crestfallen, Evelyn let out a pained moan and dragged her feet over to the chair in the corner, collapsing down into it. She hung her head in her hands and offered a muffled, "I'm so sorry!"

His family must have received the dowry and even had time to write him about it. Of course they would write! They had to make sure their beloved son and brother knew what kind of poncy Marcher madness he had betrothed himself to. It wasn't enough she was marked with dark magic. It wasn't enough that she traipsed about Thedas killing things. No no no. Her father had to make sure her future husband's family well and truly hated her before they even met her.

Cullen walked over to her and tilted her head back up to look at him. He was smirking. "Cullen! This is nothing to make light of!" She pushed him away, somewhat ineffectually, and he outright laughed at her.

She stood and started pacing. "They received the dowry, didn't they?" Perhaps there was still a small sliver of hope that they hadn't.

"They did."

Perhaps not. "I'm so sorry..." She repeated.

"Why?" He still looked far too amused for Evelyn's liking. "Your father sent a dowry. It isn't unheard of, though it was certainly unnecessary."

"He sent it to your mother! He's never even met the poor woman! I've never even met the poor woman! And now she has some crazy family she's never met delivering strange odds and ends to her doorstep in an effort to try and 'sell' their daughter to her son!"

She threw her arms up in the air and then she visibly deflated, barely holding herself upright. "This is so embarrassing. They're going to hate me. I need to fix this somehow."

Cullen came over to her and pulled her up to look at him. "They're not going to hate you. There's nothing to fix. No one is trying to 'sell' you. And I would hardly call it 'odds and ends'..." He shook his head and chuckled a bit at the last part.

"I blame Josephine for most of this!" She said sharply. "She told them where your family lives when she was visiting Ostwick. How does she even know where your family lives?" She was talking to herself now, more than to Cullen and she resumed pacing. "Leliana probably told her. That sneaky..."

"Evelyn, stop." Cullen caught her mid pace and grabbed her face. "There is no reason to be so worked up. I've never seen you like this, what's gotten into you?"

"Cullen, this is important! Obviously I was hoping to make a good impression on my own without my family getting in the way. You only ever get the one fleeting chance to make sure people think of you how you wish to be thought of; to make sure that 'word' that pops in their heads in association with you is a good one."

"What 'word'?" He asked confused.

"The 'word', Cullen! Maker! Have the ladies and I taught you nothing? You really should pay more attention when Leliana, Josephine and I discuss things that don't pertain to the army." She scolded him, but he just rolled his eyes. She waved away his skepticism. "Anyway, this is a perfect example. I want you to say the first word that comes into your head when you think of Leliana."

"Devious."

He barely needed to think on that one. Okay. "And Josephine?"

He looked up, taking a moment to consider. "Patient."

Hm. That's not what she would have said, but she supposed Cullen's disdain for her job dealing with the nobility all day would inspire an image of patience in his mind.

"And what about me?"

He smiled like a demon. "Mine."

She couldn't help but laugh. "You get my point. I don't want the word your family thinks of when they see me to be...I don't know...'spoiled', or... 'desperate'."

"Desperate? For what? You're really making no sense today."

"Desperate for a husband! It's no use talking to you about this, obviously. You're just making me feel worse, I think." She groaned, exasperated.

"Insane. There's a word for you. Because that's what this conversation is."

"Cullen!" Her tone was angry but her eyes pleaded with him. He softened a little.

"Evelyn, I saw you whip the Orlesian court into submission over the course of one evening." He folded his arms, almost looking like he disapproved of her actions that night, though really she knew he just disapproved of the Orlesian court in general. The poor man never did quite recover from being groped by strangers.

He continued. "My family poses a much lesser challenge I assure you. And anyway, considering how long it's been since I've seen them and the fact that I neglected to inform them of my continued existence after more than one potentially fatal disaster, I'm the one who should be concerned with making a good impression. By now I'm sure their word for me is 'lost'. If anything you're the girl responsible for getting their wayward son to return home."

She marveled at how a man so talented with strategy in war had no concept of it outside of a battlefield. "Cullen, you have no idea how much...planning went on before we set foot in the winter palace. Good outcomes don't just see to themselves."

"Planning? Is that what they call it in Orlais? Because in Ferelden, we call it manipulation."

"Say whatever you like, but my skill at planning things to our advantage is a large part of why the Inquisition still stands. Planning isn't always a bad thing. Take Celine and Briala. Do you think they would have found their way back to each other after all that transpired between them without the little nudge I gave them?" She raised a self-satisfied eyebrow. She considered that one of her most impressive feats as Inquisitor thus far, dragon slaying aside, and really the dragons were mostly Bull's achievements anyway, so she never claimed those victories as her own.

Cullen narrowed his eyes at her. "So, you're saying it would have been better for my family if you had gotten the chance to manipulate them before your father stepped in?"

"Well it sounds awful when you say it like that! You know what I mean! I love you Cullen. I just want them to see that, and I want them to like me. I would call it putting my best foot forward."

He sighed in an irritatingly condescending way. "You can't control everything, least of all family. That being said, I assure you, they will find you perfectly acceptable as a future daughter-in-law."

Acceptable? That was hardly a 'word' she would choose to be associated with in any circumstance. How was she supposed to be satisfied with that? But she set it aside for the moment. There was no sense dwelling on what was already done. She sat back down and made no effort to hide her pout. "Fine." She said. "So how much am I worth anyway?"

Cullen opened his mouth but then he paused. She fought back a grin. Between her, Leliana and Josephine, he was becoming more and more wary of getting trapped by seemingly innocuous questions and careless answers.

After considering his response, he said, "Evelyn, don't be ridiculous. You're worth more to me than any worldly possession and I have no need of anything from Bann Trevelyan other than his daughter."

When she just smiled and said nothing, he seemed to relax. "So, I'll be returning everything to him when we visit. Fortunately, there was an Inquisition unit camped in South Reach when the delivery was made. Ser Barris was with them. My sister approached him and asked if they would take your dowry with them back to Skyhold. It should be on its way here as we speak."

She scoffed at his naive notion. "You can try to return it. You won't be successful. Trust me. Just tell me what it was, so I know exactly how embarrassed to be when I meet your family."

He relented, but she could tell he was reluctant and uncomfortable. "Five hundred gold, a pair of thoroughbred horses, and the deed to a large parcel of land in the Bannorn."

Evelyn frowned. "That land was part of my mother's dowry. Her mother was from Ferelden. My father hasn't known what to do with it for years. I see now he's trying to foist it off onto you. You should ask for more. There's a small villa in Orlais my brother's been after..."

Cullen's mouth hung open. "Now you're trying to manipulate a better dowry for yourself? Are you mad?"

"Not for me love," She purred, getting some satisfaction in making him as flustered as she was about the situation. "...for you."

"Maker's breath, Evelyn! There will be no dowry. We will meet with your family and return it. And then we'll meet with my family and you'll see you acted a fool for nothing. Now, shocking though it may seem, there is actual work to be done, that doesn't involve trying to bend people to your will, surreptitiously or otherwise." He started ushering her out the door.

"Stubborn." She pointed at him.

"Ha! That's the pot calling the kettle. Now out!" He shut the door in her face.

"Mean!" She shouted at the closed door, and she swore she heard him laughing at her from inside.