Morlai sat frustrated at her desk in her chambers. Stacks upon stacks of documents lay in front of her, each crying out for her attention. She'd been curled up in her chair since before dawn, and she hadn't bothered to change out of her comfortable clothes—an oversized navy-hued tunic embroidered with silver vines and charcoal breeches. She'd realized as soon as she'd set eyes on the mountain of paperwork in front of her that she likely wouldn't be leaving her quarters any time soon.

Currently under her scrutiny was yet another plea from Dagna, begging for a small party to scout a hidden cave on the Storm Coast that supposedly held a vein of drakenstone-infused lyrium. Being a mage, Morlai was often fascinated by Dagna's findings and jumped at the opportunity for her arcanist to delve deeper into the mysteries of the art of magic. But, today, her heart wasn't really in anything.

The weight of being Inquisitor had been much heavier than usual as of late. She'd missed her usual teatime with her mage companions both times that week and had been forced to cancel her writing lesson with Varric as well as her sparring session with Cassandra. The elf had done nothing but sign papers and play politician with Josephine and her fellow advisors for visiting nobles. At least King Alistair had been refreshingly comedic and charming.

More than anything, though, Morlai missed Cullen. They'd spoken casually during the various banquets and other proceedings that usually came with visiting dignitaries, of course, but they hadn't had a single moment alone together for at least a fortnight. And, for the love of the gods, even just hearing her Commander call her by her first name rather than "Inquisitor" or "Herald" or would be enough.

With a drawn-out sigh, Morlai set the document down and ran a finger through her short white hair. She sat quietly for a moment—head in her hands and eyes shut tight—before standing resolutely. It was about time she paid her favorite ex-Templar a visit.

Harnessing every Dalish hunting skill she could remember, the elf crept down her chamber stairs, bare feet not making a sound, and entered the great hall. She prayed to all the elven gods—and even to Andraste, for good measure—that she could make it through Solas's chambers and take the direct path to Cullen's office without catching anyone's attention. Morlai was almost to her fellow mage's door when she realized her plan had failed.

"Well hey there, field mouse," Morlai tensed for a moment, only relaxing when she heard Varric's nickname for her, "Finally out of your burrow, I see. I was beginning to think you'd drowned in documents up there." The elf smiled at her friend, letting out a light laugh. Varric smiled back at her, but his grin faltered when he noticed how on-edge the Inquisitor seemed—not to mention the dark circles under her normally bright eyes. The dwarf thought for a moment, then all the pieces fell into place.

"Hey," Varric said softly, the smile he reserved only for friends sliding onto his face, "your secret is safe with me. If anyone asks, I haven't seen you since Thursday." Morlai's shoulders sagged substantially, and Varric felt a twinge of worry for his elven friend. They really did force too much on her sometimes.

"Thank you, Varric. So much." Morlai bent down slightly, placing a gentle kiss on the crown of her friend's head before continuing on her way. The dwarf's eyes widened for a moment, and a faint blush crossed his cheeks. He recovered quickly, though; he was the Varric Tethras, after all, and he wasn't about to let Lavellan walk away without embarrassing her.

"Oh, and field mouse!" he called just as Morlai placed her hand on the doorknob to Solas's study, "Please send Curly my best, would you?" A grin curled over the whole of Varric's face at the elf's blush and embarrassed nod as she scurried away like the creature he'd named her for. The dwarf allowed himself one last chuckle before turning back to his writing. The hero sneaking off to see her love? That would definitely be going in the next chapter.

Morlai made her way past Solas with no problem. The other elf was too busy painting to notice her, though the Inquisitor knew that he'd likely heard the entirety of her conversation with Varric, and decided to let her pass without interrupting her. She'd have to remember to thank him later.

When she finally reached her vhenan's door, Morlai hesitated. There was a noise coming from inside that she couldn't identify. Tentatively, she pushed open the door and peeked through. Cullen was the only one inside, and he, as per usual, was focused on the papers on his desktop. What was unusual, however, was that the Commander was singing.

His voice was relatively quiet, not loud enough to alert anyone who hadn't either pressed their ear up to his door or had elven hearing. The Inquisitor had vague memories of hearing Cullen sing at their camp that first night after losing Haven. Granted, his voice had been mixed in with the others around the fire, but, even before they had confessed their feelings to each other, the ex-Templar had always caught her attention. He had a lovely voice.

Unconsciously, the mage leaned on the doorframe, listening intently to the Commander's song. She didn't recognize it, of course—she still wasn't well-versed in many shem expressions and customs, no matter how commonplace—but, from what she could gather, it was likely some sort of lullaby. The tune was soft and sweet, and spoke of night skies and beautiful dreams. Before she knew it, Lavellan felt her eyes begin to droop. Creators, she hadn't felt this tired a moment ago.

Morlai hadn't realized she was falling asleep until a pair of strong arms wrapped around her. She groaned a bit, and blinked blearily up at her captor. Cullen's amber eyes twinkled warmly at her and his lips pulled into a smirk, but Lavellan could see the worry that edged his expression.

"Falling asleep on the job are we, Inquisitor?" he asked, trying to elicit a smile out of her, "What would Lelianna say?" Rather than the giggle Cullen was so fond of as a response, Morlai wrapped her arms around her vhenan's neck, closing her eyes as the cool of his armor pressed against her cheek. She'd always loved that contrast, the cold of his armor and the warmth of his hands, his smile, his lips.

"I missed you, Cullen," the elf spoke at last, feeling her lover's arms tighten around her slightly, pulling her closer to him, "I think the Inquisition can wait when it comes to matters of the heart." Lavellan leaned back slightly, opening her silvery eyes to gaze up at the Commander and moving one hand into his blonde curls.

Cullen felt his heart leap. To think, after all they had been through together, just one look from his beloved could send him back to stutters and blushing. He stared at Morlai adoringly, though concern knotted his brow when he noticed how worn she looked. Cullen moved a hand to cup her cheek, and she leaned into it instantly, smiling contentedly as she did.

Maker's breath, Cullen thought, how could he ever get so lucky?

He would have been content to stay there for the rest of his days, with his love wrapped in his embrace, but it seemed Andraste had other plans. While he was lost in his thoughts, Cullen had failed to notice Morlai's eyes close. It was only when he felt the extra weight of her body against his that he realized she had fallen asleep.

Letting out a quiet chuckle, the Commander held the Inquisitor for a moment longer, letting himself admire her. Her hair slightly mussed, the tattoos that danced across her cheeks, the scars that marred her ear, the delicate slope of her neck where her shirt fell off her shoulder… but he was getting ahead of himself.

"Morlai," he cooed, rubbing soft circles into her back, "darling, wake up." Cullen felt a warm smile curl on his face and a warmer feeling grip his heart as the mage looked up at him sleepily once more. "Why don't we get you to a proper bed, hmm?"

Lavellan smiled at her vhenan and nodded, reveling in the gentle way he guided her to the ladder in his office, following close behind her as they climbed, making sure she didn't slip in her exhaustion. Once they both reached Cullen's bedroom, Morlai grabbed his hand gently, lacing his fingers with her own as she ambled towards his bed. She quickly snuggled into the sheets, but sat up a bit in confusion when Cullen remained sitting on the edge of the bed, still holding her hand. When they locked eyes, the Commander sighed. He knew that look.

"I have much to do today and—" he was cut off with another look, a pleading one, full of weariness but also of love. He sighed. What wouldn't he do for Lavellan, if even a simple look held such power over him? "Give me a moment, then," he stated, releasing her hand and rising from his spot on the bed, "I don't think armor is appropriate attire for an afternoon in bed, do you?" Ah, and there was the little giggle he adored.

Quickly as he could, the Commander stripped down to his breeches and socks and crawled into bed next to Morlai. Immediately, she placed her head on his chest, right over his heart. His own arms wrapped around her, tucking the tiny elf neatly into his side.

"I forgot to tell you," she said softly, breaking the silence around them, "but you have a beautiful singing voice. I wish you'd sing more often." A flush crept its way onto Cullen's cheeks, and a similar one found its way to Morlai's as she asked her next question. "Could you, maybe…sing for me? To, well, to help me sleep, I mean." The Inquisitor met her vhenan's eyes, though she felt much like she did as a child, asking the Keeper to hold her after a frightening dream. Cullen's blush intensified, though a smile quickly joined it.

"While I don't think you need any extra help falling asleep," he murmured, "I would be more than happy to serenade you, Lady Inquisitor." She beamed up at him, and Cullen's heart soared. If she'd asked him to, in that moment, he would've sang the Chant of Light for the whole of the Inquisition.

He began the same tune he'd been singing when she discovered him earlier—an old lullaby that his mother would sing to all of her children on stormy nights to ease their fears. His thoughts wandered to his family and how much he missed them. He thought about his mother's cooking and his sister's smile, his brother's jokes and his father's hugs. But, he mostly thought about how much they would love Morlai.

He became so wrapped up that he almost—almost—missed Lavellan's softly whispered "I love you" and the soft peck she pressed against his chest. It took everything in him not to let his voice falter. Quietly as he could, he whispered an "I love you, too," though he only received a soft snuffle in response. The smile he wore threatened to take up his entire face as he looked at his beloved's sleeping form.

Cullen switched from singing to softly humming, running his fingers through Morlai's short locks, grazing his thumb along the shaved portion of her head. Soon enough, his humming ceased and his own eyes drifted closed as he joined Lavellan in her slumber.

And, if, for the rest of the day, any messengers that found themselves at the Commander's door found themselves barred from even knocking and were forced to leave their papers with Master Tethras…well. No one ever said working for the Inquisition was without its moments.