For dragon age kink meme prompt: "Merry Christmas & happy birthday to me :) So as a present for myself I'm requesting a Cullen/Alistair/F!PC(human) sandwich ;) F!PC is a mage, returns to the Tower after the Blight and Alistair chases after her and has angry/dirty sex with both Cullen & her. Lots of dirty talk! triple bonus points if Alistair & Cullen do it :D"
Story updated on kinkmeme and here.
Solona Amell never again wanted to see another Archdemon. Not in a dream, not in a memory, and definitely not in person. The same held for hurlocks and genlocks and especially for shrieks. She never wanted to look another ogre in the eye and, for the love of the Maker and all things holy, she wished to turn back the clock and never learn how broodmothers came into being. She wanted nothing more than to forget all of it, leave behind every last nightmare she faced in the waking world, all of it mirrored in the world of dreams. Most of all, she wished Alistair would stop telling her what he thought she should do. He needed to step up as leader instead of telling her to take charge.
Unlike Alistair, Solona didn't view joining the Grey Wardens as the shining moment that gave purpose and meaning to her life. Solona's true strengths lay elsewhere: battling demons, navigating the Fade, conjuring elements, using her powers for healing. That was what she should be called on to do, not lead armies, nor slaughter darkspawn. Anyhow, the darkspawn were retreating. Worse, there was quiet talk of making her the new Arlessa of Rendon Howe's lands. The idea was preposterous! She wanted nothing of it. After all, Alistair was still a Grey Warden and the senior-most warden natively born in Ferelden. He was the one who needed to become Warden-Commander. Not her. She couldn't understand why this issue remained.
But the two of them had been arguing about it for days, screaming and shouting while housed as guests in the royal palace. Queen Anora wrung her hands every time she saw them. She was waiting for them to give her an answer.
"And this is the reason," Solona shouted at Alistair, "why I was fully certain that a person like you should never in a million years be made king. You are irresponsible and you fear leadership."
"Oh, you, you— You liar!" Alistair's mouth twisted with anger. "Have you forgotten how many times you asked me, 'Alistair, are you sure you don't want to be king?' or 'Alistair, will you end up feeling regret because you turned down your birthright?' or 'Alistair, what is your real opinion of Queen Anora? Might you ever consider marrying her?' To the void, Solona! No matter what I said, you refused to listen. How many times did I have to say it? I only want to be Grey Warden and I only want—damn it, Solona, you know exactly what I want!"
"I listened to you and that is why you are standing here as a guest of the Queen. But you are only arguing the point I've been trying to make. If you feel your place is with the Wardens, why won't you do what is needed? Why won't you take the title of Warden-Commander for yourself. Our Queen is waiting for your answer. You need to take responsibility for the Wardens in Ferelden. After all, isn't it the Order that you claim to love?"
"Claim to? Claim to?" The words sputtered from Alistair's lips. "Claim to love. Oh, wonderful. So, that is what you think? Alistair claims this, Alistair claims that, but Alistair never knows what he wants. Alistair is merely in love with the idea of loving someone, or some thing, or some stupid dream of his."
"Like mince pie with Goldana?"
"What? After all that we've been through, how can you say that? You, Solona Amell, are really, really mean. That's what you are: you are mean."
"And you need to step up and become Ferelden's Warden-Commander."
"Why? So you— can—" he spat out his words. "Can just— walk right off and go— go right back to that blasted tower, or where ever it is you just plan on going?" He dug his fingers into his face while voicing a wordless shout into his hands. "You cannot do that. You cannot leave. You are the Hero of Ferelden. The Wardens need you."
"You know that if either of us had truly become a Hero of Ferelden, we wouldn't be having this discussion, unless shouting at the other's gravestone counts."
"Don't say that. Do not say that. We did what we must to stop the Blight."
"Did we? What are you prepared to tell the Orlesian Wardens? They will ask us questions. What do you plan on telling them?"
When Alistair mumbled a non-committal 'I don't know,' Solona turned and left.
Grey Wardens could hardly afford such selfishness.
Maybe Wynne had been right all along. Love was, ultimately, a selfish act.
.
It took Solona three weeks to travel to Kinloch Hold. Irving welcomed her back, as did Greagoir. She was immediately granted the title of Circle Enchanter. To her surprise, when she met privately with Irving in his office, he told her that Greagoir thought it wise to have her promoted to Senior Enchanter as soon as she was ready.
"We are very impressed with what you've accomplished as a Warden," Irving said, "and, in tough times like those we have just faced, the Circle needs leaders with your kind of experience. This will be especially true when new mages and templars are transferred here from Orlais and Antiva."
.
Once Solona had finished her meeting with Irving, she made her away around the first floor, greeting each person she encountered. Even though months had passed since freeing the tower from Uldred's grasp, much of the tower remained dysfunctional. The upper floors had been shut off, waiting for templar reinforcements and new mages to arrive. Until then, the few remaining members had created temporary living quarters on the main floor, mages bunking in one of the apprentice dorm rooms, templars in another.
It didn't take Solona long to greet the people she already knew and learn the names of two new mage apprentices who had recently arrived. When those introductions were done, she set off for the library, hoping to learn if her reason for returning had been the right choice.
Solona found Cullen alone in the center of the library archives. At first glance, she failed to recognize him. He wasn't dressed in his armor but, instead, in an ankle length chantry-issued gambeson that was cut from red cloth, embroidered with gold thread. Despite his height and his shoulder's breadth, he appeared as a far smaller person than the man she had held for months in her memory.
He stood perfectly still, back toward her, apparently lost in his thoughts. As she walked through the doorway, she slowed her pace, stepping quietly toward the center of the room, waiting for Cullen to turn and look at her, waiting to see the expression on his face.
Ever since his confession to her, she had thought day after night after day, running circles in her mind, putting together the words she thought he needed to hear.
I feel the same way too. The more I see the world outside, the more I wanted to return and tell you about it. I wanted you with me. For years I had thought we would call this tower home, you and me, living here, working together. I never wanted to cause you pain. Back then, I didn't realize what all of this meant, but now I know. I love you. I don't know what this means given who we are, but I believe we can make something work, somehow, here within the rules of the Circle.
For months she had wanted to see him, wanted to tell him not to feel shame over falling in love. Finally, she was about to have her chance. Yet, unlike the man she had once known before the attack on the Circle, this Cullen who was standing in the library with his back toward her remained oblivious to her presence as she approached. Solona was only an arm's reach away from him when she finally broke their silence.
"Cullen?" She said, the word hardly more than a whisper.
He glanced over his shoulder. "Why are you here?"
"It was time for me to return."
"But you are the Hero of Ferelden now. Why come here?"
She took another step to stand beside him, positioning herself shoulder to shoulder had he not been so much taller than her. "This is my home, just like it's yours. We need to rebuild it."
She waited in silence, ready to stand there as long as it took for him to speak. Her eyes scanned titles on the spines of shelved books that faced them. Accounts of history, the rise and fall of nations, the births and deaths of kings.
"Almost everyone I knew died here," Cullen said. "Sometimes I think I should have died with them."
"As a Warden, I should have died too."
"You really plan to stay?"
"I do."
She let him think for a while on her words.
When he cast her a brief sidelong glance, she leaned her weight into his arm, the heat from his body far warmer than she had imagined now that he was dressed in nothing beyond linen cloth.
"I don't know if anyone has told you that I am on temporary leave," Cullen whispered. "Greagoir is letting me stay for now, despite what I have done. Once matters are sorted out, if I'm lucky, if the templars will still have me, I will be given a new assignment and sent away.