Chapter One: Another Toast

"And I said, 'Don't mind me, I'm just here to have some good armless fun!'"

"Inquisitor!" said Cullen, shocked, but everyone else at the table was laughing, even Cassandra. He felt her take his hand under the table, and he couldn't help but smile. It was good to have any occasion for mirth, on the eve of the group's imminent departure.

They were all gathered in the banquet hall of Skyhold one last time, the night before the Inquisition was to officially scale down and become a peacekeeping force under the Divine's jurisdiction. Three years had passed since they defeated Corypheus; two months since they foiled the Qunari plot at the Exalted Council. Although Solas remained a threat to all of Thedas, it was a miracle that the Inquisition hadn't been shut down altogether in the face of vicious opposition from Orlais and Ferelden. Still, it couldn't be helped that the Inquisition's inner circle would be leaving on the morrow.

"You can start that sanctuary for former Templars you always talked about," the Inquisitor had told Cullen, when they met in his office for one last time. "And Cassandra should redouble her efforts to rebuild the Seekers. Thedas is much in need of your help. You both have many good years ahead of you still."

"You say that as though you're not ten years younger than we are," Cullen chided her. "What about you?"

She shrugged. "I've had enough adventure to last a lifetime. I accept an early retirement. For now," she added, mulishly.

Cullen cleared his throat. "In my absence, Thompson will be in charge of the Inquisition's reduced forces. I'll make sure to tell him everything he needs to know, and then some." The older man had been one of his senior generals, and was well-suited to the task of maintaining a small organization in peacetime. The handover had already been in the works for a while. Three years was a long time to prepare, after all. But as much as Cullen was looking forward to the next phase of his life, he was still sorry to go.

"At least many of the soldiers will be glad to go home," the Inquisitor said. "Quite the disarmament, eh?"

Cullen groaned, and the Inquisitor grinned – both of them, he knew, to keep the wistfulness they were both feeling at bay.


"And," the Inquisitor had added, "the Divine has ordered most of the Inquisition to move out of Skyhold. It's too remote, and the upkeep far exceeds our needs."

Seeing Cullen's dismay, she added good-humoredly, "Come now, we all knew it couldn't be forever. It was a castle in the air."

"You'll be leaving too?"

"Oh, no. And give up the view from my balcony?"

"What purpose will Skyhold serve next, then?"

"There's talk of the Chantry converting it into their biggest safe house for books and other sacred texts."

"A library?" asked Cullen.

"A reference library. The location should discourage all but the most ardent and well-meaning of scholars. And it's quite defensible, as you well know."

Cullen smiled. "Varric will want to make sure all of his books are in it, of course."

"Especially his latest. The tale of the Inquisition. Or haven't you heard?" The Inquisitor chuckled. "I suppose only Cassandra has an advance copy. Varric's been trying to get her to give us all a reading. Think you could persuade her?"


Now, though their last meal as the Inquisition was almost over, the company lingered over their drinks, reluctant to depart. Cullen felt a gentle nudge at his knee. He reached under the table to scratch his mabari behind the ears. The dog let out a low appreciative growl.

"He's grown so much," Cassandra murmured. "We can't keep calling him Pup."

Cullen smiled. "If we can't agree on a new name…"

It was an old argument with them, and Cassandra gave a practiced sigh. "I thought we had decided on Byron. For the Arl of Amaranthine in the Blessed Age, and my old mentor in the Seekers. You are the one being fussy."

She had a teasing look in her eyes, and normally Cullen would put an end to the argument with a soft kiss. But tonight, on the cusp of so much change, he dared to put forward what he's been thinking about.

"Cassandra," he said quietly, "if the Maker grants…"

She covered his hand in hers. "If the Maker grants, I have had prospective names for children picked out for a very long time." She huffed. "It's only the giant Fereldan dog I did not see coming."

Cullen barely even registered her last comment. "You have? For how long?"

"Since I met you, naturally." She tightened her grip, and grew serious. "But as the Maker wills it, Cullen. We still have many things we want to accomplish."

He nodded. "And so little is certain, looking ahead."

"'Change will come, and change will be relief,'" quoted Cassandra. "Regardless, I can face anything with you."

She touched a quick kiss to his lips, and rested her head on his shoulder. Change was sure to come in the times ahead, but for the moment, Cullen was fully contented.

"Not that I'm pleased you lot are all leaving, too," the Inquisitor was saying loudly. "Suppose I run into Solas all by my lonesome, and he says, 'You, you think you can stop me? You and whose arm?'"

"Inquisitor!" Cullen protested, as heckles rose throughout the room.

"Oh, go on," she yelled back, affectionately. "You'll all miss me and you know it. You'll miss everyone. That's why you're all coming back for a reunion this time next year, all right?"

She raised her glass and looked over the group assembled. "Friends, another toast," she declared. "This is not a goodbye. Just a see you later. Comrades in arms."


A/N: If anyone knows where "Change will come, and change will be relief" comes from (a poem?), please tell me! I know I've heard it before somewhere.

My thanks to the Cullenites Facebook group for a rousing discussion on what Cullen would name his mabari!

And many thanks to you, for reading!