Hearts and Thoughts
"The first time I saw you I noticed your hair, of all things. It was filthy with debris and tousled all about your face, but I could still see that brilliant color under the grime."
"And the first time I saw you I thought you were a warmonger and a Templar pig." She smirked when his brows drew together. "Good thing for you my opinion has changed dramatically."
How soundly they slept when they were together now, peaceful and relaxed, unlike the prior months of battle and upheaval. The past didn't matter anymore though. With an arm draped over her waist, he laughed at that conversation, a lifetime ago, he thought.
The Maker always did have a strange sense of humor, and it was even more apparent when he'd decided to drop a mage at their feet after the Conclave explosion. Cullen had been wary at first; all those years of Templar training hadn't been easy to forget. Though his hesitancy had been tempered by Evelyn Trevelyan's altruistic approach to all things. She'd been so like the many mages he'd known over the years, unaffected and ignorant of the outside world, unknowing of the horrors beyond the circle. She'd also been unlike them, open and honest, wearing her heart on her sleeve, much the way he had always done. No wonder he was drawn to her from the beginning. They were kindred spirits in more ways than one.
To hear her tell it, the Ostwick Circle had been more lenient than most, the Templars more tolerant, but perhaps she just choose to spin it that way to keep a more conciliatory note among the advisors. She had intrigued him though, and he hadn't been sure if it was her bright copper hair or her flippant, yet honest sense of humor, if one could call it a sense of humor. She wasn't particularly funny, but their conversations often left him smiling. Or maybe it had been a simple need to know a mage on a personal level, as a friend and companion, to understand what it was like to be held back, controlled. Collared and leashed. He had his own definition of leashed and suspected hers was similar.
Either way, it had been his job to protect her in the beginning, and it hadn't hurt to study her while he did so considering she had been, for all intents and purposes, a perfect candidate for Inquisitor, though it took him a while to admit that to himself.
Falling in love with her was another thing altogether. Thank the Maker she approached him about their mutual attraction when he was too… cautious to do so those many months ago. The experiences they'd had together, the trauma, the triumph, the joy and heartache had created a closeness he never dreamed possible with a woman. It wasn't an easy road, but it was one he would travel over and over again to keep her at his side.
Rescue
She was dimly aware of the strong arms scooping her out of the biting snow. How long had she been trudging along? Hours? Days? It was all a blur once she left Haven. Faint whispering echoed in her ear, a man's soft voice, full of warmth. Her head flopped on a shoulder, one which bore her weight, and her life force.
Cullen had always smelled of leather and sword metal, clean and masculine. It soothed her, much like a warm cup of tea. The feathers on his pauldrons tickled her cheek, but she was too weak to smile let alone laugh. But the serenity she felt at that moment was well beyond the idea of being saved from an icy death. It was his presence alone that brought her peace then, but she couldn't quite understand why he had that effect on her.
"She's alive!"
"Bring her to the healing tent Dorian and Solas have set up."
"She's colder than ice."
Funny, though she felt cold initially, the extreme warmth that ghosted over her cheek and stung as they passed a fire indicated that the frostbite was rather severe. But she was in camp now. Their camp. Things could only get better.
He laid her down gently on a bed roll, covering her with thick furs and tucking them under her chin. Cassandra and Leliana recited stories of old, meant to illicit a response and keep her from falling into a deep sleep, but her lips were too frozen to move, her thoughts muddled in the past. Solas forced her to drink an ancient herbal tea meant to dispel the frostbite and warm the innards. Prayers were offered as hands rubbed her legs to restore circulation, but her vision was still clouded, still searching for the one face she needed to find as sleep fought to claim her, memories of a past life creeping to her lips.
"Don't take it," she mumbled. "It's mine, Mama. I can't do any of it without the stick."
"Inquisitor," she heard. "Are you all right? What are you talking about? Something at Haven?"
"Haven. He was there, you know. He told me."
"Told you what?" Cullen asked.
"She's dreaming. Or delusional. Not surprising," someone said.
Yes, part dream, part reality. She had no idea what any of it meant. She spoke words with no meaning, saw visions with no faces.
As the embers slowly died in the fire near to her, a hand covered hers, rough with years of swordplay but warm and soothing, and his rhythmic squeezes kept beat. She squinted, seeing the contours of his face, the gentle eyes, somber and concerned. She squeezed back, hoping he understood what his vigil meant to her. It wasn't herbal tea and fairy tales that healed her. It was his touch, his creased brows and worried expression and nothing else.
Later, after they arrived at Skyhold, she summoned the courage to convey her appreciation, though it was uncomfortable, the air between them charged with the energy of hesitation, and anticipation.
"I want to thank you for saving me, for staying by my side until the worst had passed."
"My efforts were of no consequence really." He smiled slightly, shifting on his feet and shuffling some parchments. "I'm glad you're faring well, especially now that we're here in Skyhold. We need our Inquisitor to be at her peak performance."
"And is that why you stayed with me? To ensure the life of the Inquisition's leader?" she asked, her voice softer than she meant it to be. "Because I was rather hoping it was for more personal reasons, Commander Cullen."
"Oh, I… I did hope you would come through unscathed, and for more reasons than you'd think." He spoke too quickly, too matter-of-factly, not knowing that she'd made the leap, thinking his words meant more than they did.
"What reasons? Why can't you speak plainly, Cullen?"
"I just… I meant that…." He stammered and averted his eyes. "It's hard to see anyone suffer so. We all felt helpless at first, but you recovered quickly given the circumstances."
"Ah, I understand." No matter how peeved she was at his inability of be more forthcoming, she had to leave before something too forward spilled from her lips. And she wouldn't embarrass him either. "I just wanted to thank you… find me if you need me."
Face flushed with heat, she raced out the door shaking her head at her own confusing comments.
A/N: So many blanks to fill in. The Cullen romance really melted me and I had to get some thoughts down. This will likely be just snippets as the romance progresses.