Preface: This story takes place very shortly before the events of Act III in Dragon Age II.
Moonlight stretched across the stone floor of a hallway in the Gallows Prison, known more popularly as the home of the Kirkwall Circle of Magi. The mildly seditious thought that either term was equally accurate crept through Knight-Captain Cullen's head, but he shook it away. He was probably just tired.
He had taken to standing guard in the evenings. It reminded him a bit of his early days watching the magi in Kinloch Hold, a thought that sent a short wave of confused emotions through his mind. The incident with Uldred had been a nightmare, without a doubt. He had eventually come to terms with that, though, and reflected that it hadn't been the only thing that defined his time there. There had been good, too, before that. Well... one good thing.
The templar let out a silent sigh. She always managed to sneak back in and take over his thoughts when he wasn't watching himself, even now. He needed to be a bit more watchful of himself.
Those memories, though, weren't the reason he had taken the position on occasion, or at least taken over for one of the others. The Knight-Commander had become progressively darker in mood and more paranoid. She seemed to believe that if she released even the smallest amount of control over the city, maleficar would run amok. Doing basic guard duty was a good way to gain a bit of breathing room.
He wondered to himself if it wasn't a bit like trying to hold onto a handful of sand – the harder she gripped for control, the more desperate and dissatisfied the mages became, and the more likely to run or turn to forbidden magics. It wouldn't be long before-
A soft sound interrupted his (admittedly rather fruitless) musings. It was muffled and quiet, but templars were trained to be alert to any signs of potentially hazardous activity that the magi might be attempting to hide. This wasn't that sort of sound, however.
He moved quietly through down the hall of the apprentice quarters, the sound getting slowly more audible, if not louder, as he moved. He found himself not far down from his original post when he detected the source of the noise behind one of the doors. Small hiccups and sniffles punctuated series of short silences.
Oh.
He tapped lightly on the door with the pads of his gloves under the gauntlets. He paused for a brief moment to allow the young apprentice to gather herself before he gently opened the door.
"Tamsin?"
There was a last soft sniffle before he stepped in and saw the five-year-old apprentice with her blankets wrapped around her, clinging firmly to a stuffed halla – a parting gift from her mother. Her long black hair was messy, and her light brown eyes – a familiar color – were puffy and slightly red from crying. He told himself on regular occasion that mages weren't people like everyone else, but scenes like this made it difficult to remember.
"Oh, p- … Knight-Captain Cullen," the tiny girl said with embarrassment before wiping her eyes and getting up to acknowledge him, attempting to smooth out her nightdress in vain.
There was a brief battle with a smile on his face before he ultimately lost. He closed the door behind him and walked over to ruffle her hair lightly. "It's not inspection, Tamsin. You can get back in bed, I'm sure the floor's cold."
At the moment permission was given the girl smiled a bit at him and crawled back into her bed, still clinging to her toy. She looked up at him with a request in her eyes, and he sighed, obediently taking the blanket and pulling it over the girl. It resulted in a quiet giggle from her. At least she seemed to be feeling better. Cullen sat down on the edge of the bed.
"You know I can't tuck you in all the time, correct?" he asked, assuming a quietly serious tone.
"I know," she replied, a small, disappointed frown crossing her very slightly elven features, despite her acceptance of the fact.
He reached over and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, his face softening. "Nightmares or homesick?"
Tamsin sighed and snuggled deeper under the blankets, the frown returning. "Both, I guess."
A thought crossed his mind, and he looked down at the girl with a gently curious expression. "Were you feeling homesick earlier today?"
"Earlier? Well... I don't know. I don't think so," she answered with a bit of confusion. She reached out with one hand for his, and his larger one folded to encompass hers out of habit.
"I seem to recall that you were busy all day, weren't you?" he asked with a slight smile. "You seemed awfully absorbed with listening to the enchanter."
Her eyes went wide as light dawned in her mind and he continued, "Tamsin, listen. It won't be long before you're so wrapped up in your studies that you'll barely have time to think about being homesick. If you do... well, you know that as long as you're here I'll be right here with you, even if we can't talk often." His hand squeezed hers lightly.
"You won't leave?" she asked with just a touch of worry.
"Not if I can do anything to help it," he assured her with another squeeze of her hand.
She bit her lip and looked up at him. "What about Mother?"
"Your mother has every intention of sending you letters as often as she can."
"... Cullen?" the apprentice started again. There was always that little hesitation before she said his name. "... They were saying-" A false start. "... Do you think I'm a curse?"
The question forced the templar to look down and fully focus on the young girl chewing on her lip worriedly and looking up at him with those sincere amber eyes – his eyes.
"No," he said earnestly, meeting her gaze. "Tamsin... I know things have been complicated, and we all have to be secretive. I also know what they tell you about your abilities. Even with all that, the moment I found out that your mother was pregnant with you was one of the happiest in my life. It's been complicated... but life is complicated, and I wouldn't trade what we've had for anything. So, no. You were – are – a blessing to us, never a curse."
The girl smiled brightly up at her father, but then a yawn broke through as fatigue finally cut through her homesickness and doubts now that she was relaxed. Cullen let out a soft chuckle and squeezed her hand one final time before rising. "Get some sleep. You have a busy day tomorrow."
"Yes, papa," the girl yawned out vaguely, already halfway into the Fade.
Cullen sighed as he exited quietly and shut the door, knowing in his heart that it was the last time he was likely to hear her call him that name... and that it was for the best.
Author's Note: I'm honestly not quite sure what to make of my own writing here. I guess a short explanation is in order.
Ever since playing Dragon Age Origins and then II, I've been sort of fascinated with the idea of Surana and Cullen meeting a short time later and, under some likely unusual situations, deciding to continue their relationship.
Yes, he's probably a bit OOC, but I always pictured him as the type who would soften up around his own kids despite himself. He's also had some time to come to terms with himself and his experiences.
As you might've guessed, there's more to this story, but I sorta wanted to write a short, fluffy piece like this. Let me know if you want to see more of this particular Cullen and Surana's story.