Cullen set down Nalívæ's letter, frowning slightly. Her tone seemed relatively lighthearted, but the account of her time in the Deep Roads thus far was uncharacteristically blasé. He had witnessed her claustrophobia firsthand when Sera had locked the two of them in a small closet once as a prank. She had been bordering on hysteria when Bull had finally ripped the door off its hinges—Sera had apologized with batches and batches of cookies for nearly a month, long after Nalívæ had forgiven her. He remembered the primal fear in her eyes, how it had eradicated the warmth and curiosity they usually held. She had been shaking violently as she tried to position herself as far away from any of the walls as possible, not that there was really any room to move with the two of them in there. She had avoided him for the rest of that day and the next until he had confronted her.

"It was just…so…embarrassing," she had said, hiding her face in her hands. He had gone on to remind her of all the moments she had seen him at this weakest, when nightmares from the Fade haunted his mind or the symptoms of lyrium withdrawal reared their ugly heads. That had seemed to help, and he had made a mental note to assign missions involving small spaces to others. When the request from Orzammar came, though, he had given it to her with a heavy heart. He couldn't outsource this one. Andraste, please let her mission in Orzammar be successful and short.

Nalívæ,

I don't like a foe I can't fight against. Since I cannot launch an attack against the rocks of Orzammar, I shall have to content myself with prayers that you will clear this mess up quickly. Harding did mention your reluctance in her report, but said she hardly blamed you and that you wouldn't see her setting foot in Orzammar for all the riches of Ferelden and Orlais combined. I know it goes without saying, but please be careful. I do not want to have to explain to your father that I let you die in some Maker-forsaken hole in the ground. I shudder to think what he would do to me. And what your mother would do to whatever was left of me.

The Inquisition's affairs have been running smoothly in your absence. The Avaar have sent gifts of "exotic" delicacies, many of which smell of pickled fish, and upon tasting, are true to their smell. You'll be pleased to hear Storvacker has proven an excellent agent. I'll admit, I had my doubts about your decision to recruit her, but she has won us approval from other Avaar holds and even helped fight off a wyvern. Don't tell Leliana, but I've grown rather fond of the bear, even if she did mistake me for a cub. I know I will regret mentioning this, since I have seen your affinity for strange creatures firsthand, but perhaps we could find a hold beast for Skyhold. Perhaps a large dog. I've always wanted a Mabari.

I shudder to think of you down there. I fought darkspawn during the Fifth Blight. It was not something I ever want to experience again. I am relieved, though, to hear you are working with the Legion of the Dead. Their reputation is impressive. Knowing they have your back will help me sleep better at night. I know being underground is difficult for you, but remember the sun, the Inquisition, and I are all waiting for you to come back safely.

Yours,

Cullen

I adore Storvacker. I find the fact she licks Cullen's ruff absolutely hilarious.