The snow around Haven was a constant factor, and a small nuisance to Cullen as he supervised the troops while they trained. Occasionally, he would have need to unsheath his blade or pick up a shield for a brief presentation offered to the men under his charge. But, mostly, he stood his ground, in the cold, shouting instructions and signing the numerous reports that were being handed to him. Time in Kirkwall had made him a touch sensitive to the chill of the mountains, although he was naturally hardy against all but the worst of it. Ferelden, his home, often suffered from harsh winters providing him an advantage to it over others. Others like The Herald.
The Herald, Evangel, was such a tiny make of a woman. Her stature was short enough to suggest extreme youth, even though she was a full grown woman. And everything about her frame was slender, even seemingly frail. There was little meat to her bones, and certainly not enough to offer her resistance against the freezing air. In spite of this, she could be found wandering about the stronghold often. In moments he found freedom, she would engage him in conversation, and he'd begun to understand who she was better. But, those moments had become far more rare of late.
With all that was going on across Thedas, all of Haven was in constant motion. Every soldier and refugee had a job to tend to. Cullen was no exception, and his had been steadily getting harder as the days passed on. Same for the rest of the Inquisition. This left Evangel without company whenever she found herself back at Haven between missions. An absence of which she made up for by practicing her magic in preparation for the next battle she would have to face on her next trip from Haven.
There was always another. Not a single voyage was without one. If there weren't demons to fight, there were bandits, bears, even Templars and other mages. All vying to destroy her and her companions every step of the way.
Cullen could not help but get caught up in watching her practice as he did his men. She would take place a short distance from the troops and summon spell after spell, always keeping them confined safely away from others just as she was taught to do by The Circle. The control she exerted over her power was absolute and refined. A relief to Cullen's Templar impulses. And, in some ways, she reminded him of The Hero of Ferelden.
With her discipline, grace, and unique manner, he had soon found himself in admiration of her. Her demeanor ranged from adorable to elegant, and infatuation quickly blossomed. Although, he would never admit to it, nor did he fancy there was any chance she would notice let alone reciprocate the feeling. Besides that, the Templar in him held him back. He may have left The Order, but, his training as a Knight still held sway over him. He kept his distance out of habit not desire.
Currently, however, he could not help but notice she was in some small distress.
Worn out from casting, she had committed to crafting up snowmen from the bank near the gate. She had managed to shape three out of the crystalline powder, giving them branch arms, eyes and smiles comprised of pebbles, and twig noses. She had even carved the mark of the Inquisition into the chest of each frozen sculpture. Her brow had been pinched the whole escapade, and her eyes chained to her work. Until, at last they were complete, and the grin that had been tugging her lips all that time finally broke completely free. There was no doubt in his mind she had fun creating them. Not bothering to care how childish it was.
She now rubbed her hands together, having ignored the utter numbness seeping into their joints as she worked. The discomfort was now at the front of her mind, and the brisk rubbing did nothing to soothe it. She rocked on her feet, breathing heavily over them, the cold continuing to spread up her arms none the less. She seemed deperate to get warm, yet incapable of halting the chill creeping through her let alone reverse it. As comical as it was in its own right, Cullen took pity on her. He could not keep away.
Leaving his men to their sparring, he stepped forth and caught her attention. Her silver grey eyes peeked up at him in bewilderment. Meekly, stifling a blush from drifting across his cheeks, he grabbed hold of her hands and began to heat them, first between his own, then with his breath.
His lips nearly brushed her fingers, and the faintest urge to kiss them ran through him. He hurriedly shrugged it off, pressing her curled fists into his palms again.
"Forgive me, Lady Herald. It appeared you were in a bit of trouble and needed some help. I am aware not everyone can bear the cold so easily as some of us..."
The words he put forth sounded awkward out loud, and a blush threatened to show once more. To avoid it, he peered away to the snowmen.
"I suppose I will have to train these new recruits to fight, won't I? Do you think they could make do with brooms over swords?" A sort of half smirk took over his mouth.
The distraction works.
"If you train them to fight half as well as your men, I'm sure they'll make do. If nothing else, they can fight off the nugs if they get half a mind to overrun Haven."
A laugh was dragged out of him at her reply.
"Well then, I had best get started. It looks like they've got standing at attention down to perfection already."