Welcome to Skyhold
by R2s Muse

A/N: A quick entry for Cullen Appreciation Week, exploring the perils of having your girlfriend move in when she and boss don't particularly get along.

The soft regular thud of hoofbeats on the hard-packed dirt of the road to Honnleath provided the perfect background noise for Cullen's mental review of the Inquisition's upcoming training regimen. He had finally settled upon a schedule that accommodated Harding's scout missions when it occurred to him that the quiet meant Hawke had stopped talking.

He roused himself and glanced at where she rode beside him, watching him with an expectant look in her green eyes. "Um, yes, you were saying?" he said sheepishly.

She shook her head and smiled. "So what quandary are you trying to figure out inside that head of yours?"

"I wasn't . . ."

"Cullen, I know that faraway look in your eyes. You're worrying about something. What is it?"

"I'm sorry. I-I left a few loose ends at Skyhold before we left. As you know, fortifying our position there after the losses at Haven has been a challenge. But I shouldn't let it affect our visit to Honnleath. And not on such a lovely day." He smiled at her in a way that he hoped was reassuring, but his face felt stiff as he could not help but be anxious about what was happening in his absence.

She cocked an eyebrow, no doubt seeing right through him. "If you're so worried about it, then perhaps we should go back to Skyhold? You know I would love to see your old home, but we can come here any time, can't we? Since it's so close by?"

"No, no, it's good that we're here. We needed a break." He began to study a stitch on his saddle that had started to fray.

"We may need a break, but if it's not a good time, then we can do it another day." Her eyes lit up with amusement. "I mean, we've never had a real date before, so I think our relationship will survive."

"No, now is the time. After the Conclave, and Haven, and so many months spent apart, you and I have earned some time alone." That was certainly true. The difficulties of the last months, not knowing where she was or whether she was safe, while he and the remains of the Inquisition aimlessly fled for their lives after their defeat at Haven, had all taken its toll.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes, of course." He forced another smile, feeling himself relax a bit more this time. "And, if anything comes up, I did tell Leliana to send word."

"All right, if you're sure." She looked around at the green rolling hills periodically punctuated by short stone walls. A lakeshore was just visible in the distance, and the afternoon sunlight glinted in a long path across the water's placid surface. "It's very beautiful here. When was the last time you were back?"

"Before the Blight." He was still surprised that the mental wounds from that period of his history had healed enough to let him answer matter-of-factly.

"Does it look much different?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Not from my memories." He shrugged and added, "Such as they are."

She fell quiet and they rode in silence for a time. The bare expanses reminded him not of the Blight but of the approach to Skyhold, and the remaining repairs to the curtain wall that were still not completed, leaving them vulnerable.

"Let's go back."

He started and looked up to notice that she had stopped her horse a few paces behind. "I beg your pardon?" He pulled his own mount to a halt and turned toward her.

"Cullen, it's clear neither your head nor your heart are in this trip. We don't need to leave Skyhold to be alone. Let's just go back."

"No, really, I'm fine."

"No, you're completely distracted. We can come to Honnleath another time. When Corypheus is vanquished. When you can enjoy such a homecoming with your whole attention."

"It's not really a homecoming. My family is no longer here."

"I know, but something is bothering you. Either it's that, or the Inquisition. Maybe both."

"But I wanted to take you away." He rubbed the back of his neck, but avoided her searching gaze. "Even if just for a day or two."

She kneed her horse closer until they were side by side and reached out to take his hand. "I don't need to be anywhere but with you. I've told you before. You're my normal. If you'd be happier attending to these things you're worried about, then I'm happy to go back to Skyhold. I'm happy to wait all day 'til I have you all to myself in our room, even if it's just for a few moments." She tried to catch his eye, but he could only focus down on the frayed stich of the saddle again

He sighed and looked away. "We can't go back."

"What do you mean?"

"I-I told the Inquisitor we would be gone."

"So?"

"She . . . expects us to be gone."

"So?" she repeated with exaggerated patience.

"She . . . wants us to be gone."

"What?"

He winced at the hard edge of that snapped word. Cullen had been dreading this since Malika Cadash had essentially ordered him to take Hawke away on this trip. To give the Inquisition a break from Hawke, not the other way around. Also, to give the Inquisitor herself a break from Hawke and all the trouble her presence had caused, although Malika had not said that in so many words. Hawke's integration into the Inquisition had been far from seamless.

Not that Hawke was to blame, per se. Her years of freewheeling adventure, where she answered to no one but herself, had not prepared her for working within a military organization with rules and hierarchies. Hawke also knew this about herself, which was why she had initially resisted Cassandra's and Leliana's efforts to recruit her. Plus, the last few years while Hawke was a fugitive from justice, her interactions with people had been limited to her small group of close friends. Living with the Inquisition had been a major adjustment for her, like it originally had been for Cullen. But, Cullen could not help but feel responsible for the whole mess, since he knew Hawke would not be there if not for him. And he could not be without her.

His throat dried up as he fought to explain. "N-not permanently! She greatly values your service. It's just, the recent chaos over the last month—"

"What kind of chaos?"

"Ah, um, well, she was a bit upset about the horse race—"

"That was just one broken bone. Okay, maybe two. But, he'll be fine!"

"And the roof tiles that were intended for the garden—"

"She thinks the garden needs a roof more than our bedroom does?" Hawke's horse started to dance as it keyed off of her growing agitation.

"Th-there was the time that you sent one of Harding's scouts on your own mission—"

"I needed to get a message to Kirkwall!"

"A-and—"

"All right, fine, Cullen, you've made your point. She doesn't want me there. You want me to leave?" She yanked on her bridle in a futile attempt to reigning in her antsy horse.

"No! Maker above, Hawke, I want you with me. Together. In our home! You know that. This isn't about us."

"Isn't it?" she cried. Her horse gave a nervous toss of its head, so Hawke pulled on the reins and started to canter toward the direction of the lake. Cullen let out a frustrated growl and followed. She dismounted at a dilapidated fence post near an old, deserted wooden dock and continued out onto the dock on foot.

"Hawke!" he called as he also dismounted, but she ignored him. Finally, he jogged to catch up with her as she stopped at the end of the dock, looking out over the water and crossing her arms, her posture was stiff with anger. He stepped up behind her, the dock creaking beneath his boots, but she did not turn around.

The only other sound was the slap of water against the pilings and the faint susurrus of the wind across the surface of the water. A crumbling stone statue rose from the water a few yards off shore, its blank eyes serenely watching their fight.

He wanted to reach out to Hawke, ease the stiff set of her shoulders with his fingers, but he held back from touching her. "Grace, please," he said, using again his nickname for her that had turned into an endearment. She only shifted her shoulders, which was answer in itself. He wet his lower lip and started again. "I love you. We've gone through too much to let something like this shake our faith in us. We're together, wherever we are. And that is enough."

"I thought it was enough," she threw over her shoulder, clenching her jaw.

"I want you here. At Skyhold," he insisted again. "But more importantly, so does Malika. The Inquisition needs you. She needs you. And she knows that. She just needs . . . a . . . a break, to get used to this new variable in her plans." He ran a hand through his hair. "And, she's also new to this. She has just gotten the Inquisition running smoothly, a feat in itself, and then you show up, like a force of nature." He sighed and then the corner of his mouth hitched up in a half-hearted smile. "Admit it, wouldn't you pity her?"

Hawke took a deep breath for another angry response, but stopped and snapped her jaw shut. After a beat, he could see her shoulders relax a little and he sensed that the danger had passed. The corner of her mouth also curved up. "I suppose I would," she said grudgingly.

He stepped forward and slid his hands down her arms and then around her waist and waited for her to relax back against his chest, which took a few heartbeats longer than he expected. Finally, she settled her own hands over his at midriff. "I can admit I would pity anyone who had to deal with me figuring out how to be part of a group like this. It's so . . . so . . . so big," she said at last. Then she shot him a glance over her shoulder. "But you'll need to admit that you should have been honest with me. About her concerns. About this trip. I don't need to be managed."

He rested his chin on the top of her head. "You're right. I'm sorry. I was so relieved to have you here that I didn't want anything to jeopardize it. I wanted you to feel welcome. But I should have told you."

"Yes. You should have told me instead of packing me off at the first sign of trouble." She still sounded resentful, but her body remained pliant against his.

"I just wanted to give you both some time, but I understand." He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "I will also admit . . . the thought of having a real date with you, away from messengers and scouts and nosy dwarven merchant kings, was supremely attractive." Her drew her closer and murmured into her ear. "And it was an order."

He felt her smile. "The Inquisitor ordered you to go on a date?"

"Those were the words she used."

Hawke mulled this over for a minute. "I see," she said, and he could immediately sense a shift. Whether in her tone of voice or the press of her body against his, the shift made his own blood sing. He was suddenly aware of every minute move she made as she shifted slightly against him and his body responded.

She stepped out of the circle of his arms, and he followed her to the end of the dock, still feeling her inexorable draw. "There are certain advantages to being truly alone at last," she murmured. Her eyes gleaming wickedly, she kicked off her boots and socks, and then, without breaking eye contact, grabbed the hem of her tunic and pulled it up over her head in one smooth move that made him gasp. She made quick work of her trousers as well, and then as he watched, mouth gaping open, she slipped out of her underthings. She winked at him and then turned and dove into the water.

He watched, mesmerized, as she surfaced, water sheeting down her lovely face, her short dark hair slicked back on her head. The greenish water lapped enticingly around the tops of her breasts he could just see below the surface as she dog-paddled in place. "Well, Commander, will it take another order to get you to join me?" she purred.

Without conscious thought, he complied, stripping off his clothes as quickly as he could, kicking of his boots, cursing when one got stuck. Finally, he jumped in with one smooth dive, so close that he splashed her. She was giggling when he broke the surface beside her and she slipped her wet arms around his neck. It finally occurred to him to look around and see if they had been observed, but then she wrapped her long legs around his waist and he decided he did not care.

She nuzzled her cold nose against his and kissed him while he easily kept them afloat. "Am I forgiven?" he asked breathlessly.

"Depends," she said, letting go and dipping under the water for a moment.

"On what?"

"On whether you can keep your attention in the here and now, or if you're still going to be focused on your work back at Skyhold?" She floated nearer and pressed another kiss to his lips, this time lingering a bit before she glided back again.

In answer, his arms snaked around her, pulling her up against him. She laughed but then gave a quick intake of breath as perhaps she realized just how much of his undivided attention she had. "I can promise that I'll be very focused on my important work here," he said, kissing her slowly and deeply. "Of welcoming Marian Hawke in a manner that shows her how very important she is to my happiness and well-being." He ran his hand up her back and she shivered in his arms. "Wherever we happen to be."

She hooked her legs around him again and he thrummed with excitement. "All right. Then I will promise that I'll try not to get us kicked out of Skyhold, at least for time being. But the Inquisitor has got to lighten up a bit."

He laughed. "Agreed. Or I think your upcoming trip to Crestwood together will end up being rather perilous."

"Yes. For her," Hawke growled.

"I think you'll like her, once you get to know her better."

"I think you promised to keep your attention on the here and now. I was expecting at least one welcome. Maybe a few more before we have to return."

He chuckled and then kissed a drip of water off her nose. Then pressed another deeper kiss to her lips. "Welcome to Skyhold, Grace."