A/N: This is something that came to me last night and I just couldn't stop. I'm rather surprised I got this much written in less than twenty-four hours. I'm the only one to proof-read this so if there are any grammatical mistakes, I'm sorry.

I loved the romance in Dragon Age: Inquisition with Cullen, but I have also enjoyed reading many of the fanfiction writers that have written stories with a Cullen/Circle mage romance. I was so excited to see many familiar faces from Origins but sad that the only thing about the Warden was a letter. So I kept thinking, what if Cullen was in love with Surana? What if they encountered each other in Kirkwall during the events of Dragon Age II? What if Surana becomes caught up in the events in Dragon Age: Inquisition? So this is my AU take on how this would occur.

If you have any constructive criticism, or comments, please leave me a review. I love to hear from my readers! Enjoy!

I do not own anything Dragon Age. They belong to Bioware.

1/22/16 Edit: Adding character perspective headings. Fixed small details and proof-read.

Cullen Rutherford, The Commander

"O Maker, hear my cry:

Guide me through the blackest nights

Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked

Make me to rest in the warmest places."

Cullen paced in the small office space, clutching tightly to the worn lyrium-infused silver ring he always carried with him. The sun had set over the mountains, the room slowly darkening and illuminate by candles around the room. He repeated a small portion of the Chant of Light again for the fifth time, pleading for clarity and peace. He had been praying since he had read the letter now discarded on the mahogany desk, wax dripping onto the parchment where the candle resting next to it.

"O Creator, see me kneel:

For I walk only where You would bid me

Stand only in places You have blessed

Sing only the words You place in my throat."

She has to be okay. She's always okay. She always returns.

"My Maker, know my heart

Take from me a life of sorrow

Lift me from a world of pain

Judge me worthy of Your endless pride."

The commander remembered the first time she left him, her face in complete shock. It hadn't been her choice, but rather fate that made her stumbled upon a dark and tainted path. She had been rescued from the dark fate by a Grey Warden, conscripted moments before being tried for being an accessory to the escape of a Blood Mage. She had turned her head as she left, glancing in his direction. He could see a mixture of emotions in her amber eyes; pain, relief, regret. It felt as if a knife had been plunged into his heart, eerily similar to the week before when he was prepared to do the same to her as she entered the fade.

"My Creator, judge me whole:

Find me well within Your grace

Touch me with fire that I be cleansed

Tell me I have sung to Your approval."

Then she had appeared at his darkest hour, a nightmare he preferred to forget, but often haunted by nonetheless. Cullen had heard the tragic news about Ostagar. If there was a remote chance she had lived, it had been replaced with the rumors.

No survivors. King Cailan dead. The Wardens failed.

There had been no time to hear anything else, Kinloch Tower falling under attack by Uldred and his followers. Cullen had fought until he was captured and lead to the top of the tower with his brothers. There he watched as one by one, they all fell to the demons. When she had appeared in front of him with three other companions, he had thought she was of the fade, another temptress to seduce him from his vows. He had treated her poorly, remembering those bright eyes glazed over with unshed tears. He had nearly broken her, just as he had been. She had left for a second time; shoulders slumped, never looking back.

"O Maker, hear my cry:

Seat me by Your side in death

Make me one within Your glory

And let the world once more see Your favor."

He didn't believe he would see her again. He heard of her travels though. She had saved Redcliffe from the undead, recovered the Ashes of Andraste and healed Arl Eamon, and finally defeating the Archdemon on top of Fort Drakon. The stories seemed intangible. Cullen remembered hearing again of Ashiva by the new Templar recruits, mumbling curses.

The queen appointed the knife ear mage as Chancellor! How can that be possible?

The queen gave Vigil's Keep to the Wardens. She appointed the mage as Arlessa of Amaranthine What is the world coming to?

He soon transferred to Kirkwall and began a new life. It wasn't until the Qunari rebelled that she stumbled back into his life. He was ordering the troops when he saw the tail of silver and blue armor. She wielded a sword that glowed like starlight, lightning striking her opponent. Raven hair clung to her forehead, her face scrunched like it always had when she whispered spells into the air. Her opponent fell unconscious before her gaze fell on him, an uncertain smile on her scarlet colored lips. That night, he didn't let her leave without a word.

"For You are the fire at the heart of the world

And comfort is only Yours to give."

He gripped the ring tighter. Work had kept his mind from wandering into these memories that revolved around her. The Inquisition had given him purpose away from the Templars. He commanded troops and advised the Herald. He enjoyed it mostly, assisting young men to wield the blade. Cullen would often write to Ashiva, thinking soon she would reply once she received them. He knew she was busy and once she found what she was looking for, she would return. He prayed for her safe journey every night that she would return and the loneliness that fastened to him in the coldest nights would vanish. Her smile would warm his darkest thoughts. Her touch would heal the desperate need for his lyrium addictions. Now though, peering at the parchment, his heart dropped and the hope extinguished.

Cullen,

The weather has changed. The wind blows from the West. I will be leaving the Western Approach. I will send word soon.

A. S.

How long ago had she sent this? Days? Weeks? Months? The unknowing unnerved him, especially since Warden Alistair had appeared in the keep the night before. The warden had informed them of the deception in the Grey Wardens. He had gone into hiding after questioning the organization's decisions. Cullen had spoken to Alistair briefly when he had arrived, hoping the warrior would keep their little secret, with the promise to speak later.

Cullen stepped out of his office, breathing in the chilled crisp air. Being raised in Ferelden, he was familiar with the chill. He walked the battlements, the paper in his fist. He stepped into the dark room, breathing in the smell of a wood-burning fire, ale and smoked hog. Laughter and music were in the air. From his vantage point in the tavern, he could see glimpses of the Iron Bull, Varric, Hawke, Dorian, and Trevelyan playing Wicked Grace. He found the small table on the second floor, Alistair sitting with a mug of Antivan brandy, leg propped on a wooden chair. He sat across from the warden, placing the letter in front of the man.

"I received this a week before you arrived. I didn't think much of it until you showed up with your news," Cullen explained.

Alistair leaned forward in his chair, squinting his eyes to read the small script. His eyebrows lowered in confusion. "The Western Approach. Ash didn't mention this," he stated, glancing at the parchment again. "She shouldn't even be in this region of Thedas."

He grimaced at the nickname. Since the Fifth Blight, Alistair and Ashiva Surana had been close. He had heard the ballads of their victories as well as the whispered stories of their blossomed romance. Little else was mentioned about their relationship during their travels to defeat the Blight. After asking her once about the stories she had sighed, glancing out towards the Amaranthine sea.

"I loved him, once," she admitted solemnly. "I still do in some ways, but as does many relationships, decisions and duty broke us apart. I trust him with my life, but not with my heart."

"Something is wrong. I can feel it," Cullen mumbled, scratching at the grain in the wood table with a nail. This news didn't settle him like he had prayed. "Do you know when she might have sent this? Is she in danger?"

"This letter is vague, it could mean anything. Nathaniel was traveling with her. If something were to happen, he would have contacted me," answered the brooding warrior.

Silence fell between the duo. Cullen stared at the lower level of the tavern, watching the bard pluck her lute with enthusiasm while Alistair drank his brandy. The tension between them had always been evident to the ex-templar. Since their first encounter in Kinloch Tower, Alistair was protective of the mage. Cullen was well aware of their conversations concerning her relationship with him. Ashiva would always smile, her cat-like eyes glowing with amusement.

"I can't help it that I like a little danger in my life," she would say nudging him on the shoulder as she walked by. He didn't blame the man though for his mistrust. Cullen deserved the allegations against him.

He rubbed at his neck, feeling the pressure headache forming. Thoughts of the gore and death in Kinloch Tower flashed through his mind. He could almost smell the stench of death surrounding him in the small tavern in the high mountains. Even after a decade, his hands sweat, and his muscles tensed.

Now is not the time, he reprimanded himself. He exhaled, looking back at the man sitting near him. "Look Warden, I haven't heard from Ashiva for months, and then I get this message. I haven't been able to sleep peacefully since receiving this and I will not find peace until I know she is safe."

"She told me why you joined the Inquisition," Alistair said, his voice wavering. "The Seekers were searching for her. They wanted answers from her, her leadership- something she wanted nothing to do with it. Ash had done more than enough with political bullshit. We both had," he laughed harshly, pouring more brandy into his mug. "She came to you. Wanted your protection. No matter how much I tried to convinced her not to go to Kirkwall, she did anyway. You got her out of their sight, and convinced them to let you join them. They stopped searching after you joined the seeker."

"I found her phylactery, and destroyed it," Cullen whispered. He had promised to protect her, to always keep her safe. "I wouldn't let them use her like the Ferelden's nobility used her."

Alistair's eyes glazed over, his eyes distant. A bitter smile curved on his lips. "She always loved you. Even when we...she always loved you."

And I her. "Then you must know why I need to find her."

Sighing, Alistair scratch the stubble on his chin in thought. "Hawke and I will leave tomorrow to scout ahead. I'll see what I can find out. I'll also let Leliana send word to Vigil's Keeps. Perhaps Oghren has heard something from Nathaniel or Ash."

Alistair stood up, stretching with a yawn. King Maric's bastard son grinned, finally looking like the young warden he had met long ago. "If you'll excuse me, I really want to get a chance to have a restful nights sleep dreaming of darkspawn and ancient darkspawn magisters bringing back the Blight."

Cullen watched the warden leave, before leaving the way he came. He remembered many nights when Ashiva woke in the night, screaming and gasping for breath. Sometimes she would talk, confessing the gruesome nightmares of death and carnage. Many times she remained silent, leaving the room for fresh air and to gaze up at the starry sky.

"Ash, darling, where are you," he silently whispered, lifting himself from the wooden chair.

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to imagine her smile, her laughter for a moment longer, imagining the smell of cinnamon and pine that seem to linger on her. Exhaling, he opened his eyes, his mind clearing from the worry and desperation to find her. There would be a time to dwell on it later.

"Cullen?"

She lowered her sword, sheathing it in the holster attached to her hip. Ashiva walked cautiously towards him, waved her hand, a gesture for the wardens at her side to step away. Her black hair was braided, blowing on the sea breeze. Despite being tied back, he noticed her hair was longer than he recalled, falling below her shoulder blades. She cradled her injured left hand, amber eyes watching him with interest. Even covered in sweat and a blood smear on her cheek, she was still radiant.

"Ashiva? What...what are you doing here?" He grimaced. Out of all the things he could say or do, that was the first thing he could think of?

She smiled mischievously, looking around her. "Oh you know, investigating Grey Warden secrets. It seems no matter where I go, trouble tends to find me. Of course the night we arrive, the Qunari decided to eradicate the city."

Cullen failed to hide the smirk forming on his lips. "No rest for the wicked. Even after all these years, you still find yourself in the middle of chaos."

"So it seems," her face darkened. She looked at the wardens around her, before turning back to him. "We should be going."

Ashiva walked briskly away, calling out orders. Cullen watched, the dark cloak around her shoulders moving with each step. He remembered the moment she had walked away from him in the circle; how he had regret everything he had said and did. He wouldn't let her leave until he had his say. Talking three large steps, he caught her wrist, disrupting her shouts.

"Ashiva," he started, a loss for words. "I-I...thank you."

He didn't realize how cold her eyes had been until that moment. She looked down, her injured hand absently brushing the loose tendrils from her face. "Its my duty to help those in need."

He let her go. "May the Maker watch over you, Ashiva."

"And you, Cullen."

It wasn't enough, but he finally was able to thank her. Thank her for protecting the city of Kirkwall, and for saving his life years ago in the circle. He was able to thank her for saving the templars she could, and protecting the mages that were innocent, even if he had believed they all were evil. Including her.

"Inquisitor, did you need something?"

Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan leaned against the wall, her blue eyes staring intently at the window behind him. Dark auburn hair was pulled back into a tight bun, her smile light and distant. Since their first encounter in Haven, Evelyn had become a friend to him. Someone Cullen could trust to lead he and his troops into battle. Although she was a fine warrior and an attractive woman, the former templar couldn't help wishing for amber eyes, a teasing smile and ebony hair.

"I saw you speaking with Warden Alistair last night in the tavern," Evelyn started, moving closer to his large ornate desk. "I wasn't aware that you were already acquainted."

Cullen shrugged nonchalantly, picking up a stack of reports. "He was with the Hero when Kinloch Tower was under attack by blood mages. We've encountered one another in Kirkwall from time to time as well."

The Inquisitor pursed her lips, eyebrows knitting together in thought. She leaned against the desk, her hand resting on the wooden surface to maintain her balance. "It didn't seem to be a friendly chat to catch up on life's events. If something is concerning you, you can talk to me," she said, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. "At least I thought, you understood that."

Seeing her like this, concern and nervous, always reminded Cullen just how human Trevelyan was. It was easy to place her above everyone with titles like noblewoman, The Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor, and Savior of Haven. He straighten the papers, fighting to keep his gaze elsewhere.

"I-I can't tell you everything right now Lady Trevelyan," he stuttered, before he cleared his throat. "I mean, I want to, but I feel uncomfortable relating so little information to you concerning this matter. Once I have gathered enough information concerning the matter, I will come to you."

She smiled, her eyes reflected her understanding, and she pushed herself from the desk. "Alright, fair enough. Anything else to report, Commander?"

"I found where the red templar came from. Therinfal Redoubt," Cullen reported, pulling his hands behind his back as he began to pace around the room. "The knights were fed red lyrium until they turned into monsters. Samson took over after their corruption was complete."

"Samson? Was that the man you mentioned you recognized in Haven," Evelyn asked, her eyes following him around the room. "How do you know him?"

"Yes, Samson was there," Cullen answered, looking over his shoulder. "He was a templar in Kirkwall, until he was expelled from the Order. I knew he was addicted, but this..."

He shook his head, fighting the images of his brothers falling under his blade, their skin and eyes burning red. It had been a shock to him in Haven fighting against people he once thought as brothers. After the corruption, he couldn't even recognized them. His face scrunched in disgust at the thought. "Red lyrium is nothing like the lyrium given by the Chantry. Its power comes with a terrible madness."

"The red templars swarming Haven were proof enough," the newly appointed Inquisitor noted.

Cullen agreed. "We cannot allow them to gain strength. The red templars still require lyrium. If we find their source, we can weaken them and their leader."

Evelyn frowned, crossing her arms. "Are you angrier at Corypheus or Samson?"

The Commander sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "Samson, at least, should know better."

"Is this what's been bothering you? Samson's betrayal."

"One of many things, Inquisitor," Cullen replied, moving back to the desk. He pulled the worn map, moving his gloved finger along the marked roads. "Caravans of red lyrium are being smuggled along the trade roads. Investigating them could lead to where it's being mined."

"Warden Alistair mentioned the Western Approach. We will be traveling on the Imperial Highway, so we will be sure to keep an eye out for those caravans," the brunette said.

Cullen could feel his head beat rapidly at the mention of the Western Approach. Perhaps they would find Warden-Commander Surana or something leading to her where abouts. "If you confront them, be wary. Anything connected to Samson will be well guarded."

Lady Trevelyan shook her head, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "You worry too much. We'll be fine," she laughed. "Warden Alistair, Hawke, Varric, Dorian and Cassandra will be accompanying me. If anything even happens, I wouldn't be surprised if Scout Harding popped out of the bushes and rescued the day. She's a tricky one."

"I can agree with you on that," he nodded. "Now excuse me, you're worship, I need to observe the new recruits on the training grounds."

"I'm glad you decided to join me before you left," Cullen replied, filling Ashiva's glass before sitting himself.

The elven mage smiled nervously, swishing the Orlesian wine. Her blue and silver armor was clean, polished after weeks of battle in the deep roads. Her face was solemn, and dark. Being this close to her, he saw new wrinkles on her forehead and cheeks. Were they laugh marks or had the years been so dreadful, she no longer smiled and laughed like she had done as an apprentice mage?

"Its nice to be able to sit and enjoy some pleasantries in life, even if it is only for a short time," carefully she answered, as if she were speaking to one of the nobles in Amaranthine.

Cullen frowned. Sure, he had dealt with a few of the nobles around Kirkwall, particularly Hawke, but he never had to play the Game, as he had heard many Bards call it. Pleasantries and ambiguous phrases were not something he was well versed in. He had not expected her to develop the sharp tongue.

The Hanged Man was quieter than usual. He recognized some familiar faces, the dwarf Hawke befriended, the pirate who shamelessly flirted with him, and the Dalish elf that he had suspicions about. Taking a large drink, he felt the ale burn as it went down, praying for discernment and at least something to talk about.

Fortunately for him, Ashiva ended the silence. "I went back to the Circle a year after the Blight. I was...searching for something. Gregoir informed me you were no longer there but had transferred to Kirkwall."

The Templar sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "There were too many ghosts there. Too many memories I wished to forget."

"I see. I'm sorry, I wish I had been there sooner. Maybe if I had…"

"If you had, you could have been killed with the other mages," Cullen interrupted harshly, looking at her directly. He hated seeing her look so broken. "Ashiva, I hate to rehash the past, but what happened can't be changed. And...what I said to you in there, I can't undo. I hated mages then, I still have some distrust for many. But I never was apprehensive towards you. You saved me from the demons that haunted me and saved my life and the life of many others. I could never thank you enough for that...and I hope one day you could forgive me in my weakest moment. What I said to you then…"

A warm hand moved to cover his armored glove, quieting him. "Cullen, what happened to you was appalling. I couldn't have expected you to think clearly after the weeks of torture you endured, much less take judgment on your vile words. I was upset, yes, for many months, but I learned to see from another perspective, and I slowly forgave you."

Her smile was gentle, her eyes glittered like the stars in the sky. He could feel his stomach fluttered, old feelings seeming to return. Feeling bold, he twisted his wrist, claiming her hand in his. "I...that's good to hear."

They stared at each other for some time. He couldn't' help but wonder about the events in their lives. What if he had not joined with the Templar Order? Would he have met her? Would he be able to act on his feelings? What if she were not a mage? Would she be with the Grey Wardens now? Or would she have fallen to the Blight? He looked at their hands, his lightly holding her smaller hand. Her skin was darker now, sun kissed from the many days she traveled in the outdoors. Cullen saw the calluses on her lithe fingers from wielding the sword and probably many other weapons, fighting bandits and darkspawn. He saw a faint scar across the back of her hand, probably from a dagger from the many battles she had witnessed.

"I should be going," he said, the words sour in his mouth. He had to report back to the Gallows and she to Amaranthine. They had lives separate from each other, duties that had to be fulfilled.

Ashiva nodded her agreement, reclaiming her hand again. She stood, stifling a yawn. "Yes. Alistair will be worried if I stay out any longer. He'll feel he is missing out on something."

"Ashiva…"

"Cullen, call me Ash."

"Ash," the name slipped past his lips, a crooked smile on his lips. He couldn't just let her go, especially now that she had returned. "May I write to you in Amaranthine?"

The elven woman look befuddled, before she shook her head. "What about the order? I know I'm a Grey Warden now, but I am still a mage. Wouldn't it be frowned upon?"

"You're not just a warden but the one who saved Ferelden from the Fifth Blight," Cullen added, grinning. "All they will know is a relative of mine joined the Ferelden Grey Wardens."

Ashiva chewed on her lip nervously, before she nodded. "Alright, as long as I can write to you as well. May the Maker watch over you, Cullen."

"And you, Ash."