Haven, Drakonis 13, Dragon 9:41
The two days following the Herald's miraculous recovery were filled with a flurry of activity. Not only did the Herald need new equipment but the Inquisition leadership needed to scrounge together enough supplies for she and her team to travel. During this time, Cullen had several additional opportunities to speak with Mnemyn and it was during these conversations he realized, to his delight, she was incredibly quick witted, sarcastic, extremely intelligent, as well as incredibly kind. That she was a mage only seemed to bother him slightly.
So now, the afternoon before her first mission, Cullen Rutherford of Honnleath found himself completely unable to concentrate on anything since he'd last seen her. He stood in the middle of the chaotic training yard, his eyes fixed on the path leading back to the Chantry and wondered if she would visit him again soon. Normally, he'd be extremely annoyed with himself for being preoccupied with anything other than his duties to the Inquisition. Though this afternoon was a bit of an exception due to the fact that he'd been trying to stave off a rather miserable headache for most of the day. Because of this distraction, and a painful one at that, he found his mind wandered far more easily than usual. In fact, he was so lost in thought that neither did he notice Rylen appear at his side nor hear his second ask a question.
"Commander?"
"Oh I—what?" Cullen said with a start, turning to look at Rylen in surprise.
"Something troubling you?"
"No," he replied quickly. "I've merely a lot on my mind."
Rylen shot him a look of mild suspicion before handing him a report, "Right. As I was saying, I've compiled my report on my efforts to recruit other trusted members of our Order into the Inquisition's ranks. Would you care to read it now, Commander?"
"Yes, of course," Cullen took it and began to read. About halfway through, he paused and looked up at Rylen with surprise, "And you're sure of this?"
"About as sure as I can be at this point," Rylen admitted, leading Cullen slightly away from the training field. His voice dropped to a low, conversational whisper as he continued, "I dunnae understand where a great number our comrades would have disappeared to. All I can say is many of the mid-level Templars of our age group are turning up missing. More of them every day."
"I think it's time to involve the Nightingale," Cullen replied darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose. The frigid weather had been doing a damn fine job of slowly exacerbating his headache and now with revelation of this unsettling news, his head was beginning to feel as though it were being squeezed by a vice.
"Aye, I think it t'would be a wise move," Rylen agreed. Silence stretched between them as Cullen re-read Rylen's report, simultaneously attempting to fight through the haze of pain while trying to glean any detail that might help him discern what might be happening within the Order. He was aware Rylen was watching him closely but was far too tired to comment. Though he didn't have to.
His astute and loyal friend spoke up now, gently suggesting, "While you're up there, why don't you see Adan? That headache's been weighin' on you all day."
Cullen puffed out a breath and nodded in agreement before motioning to the training troops, "They'll need a water break soon. I'll be back."
As he stood explaining Rylen's report to Leliana, he happened to see the Herald, accompanied by Solas, step from the chantry. The two mages nodded and Mnemyn smiled at him as they passed. He could've sworn he heard Leliana sniggering at his side and turned to fix her with a pointed look. She feigned innocence and redirected him back to the topic at hand. She agreed Rylen's findings were most troubling and assured him she would devote agents to discovering why Templars were disappearing.
That task finished to his satisfaction, Cullen bid her good day and made his way to Adan's cottage. It was a short walk to the south and west, which he was extremely thankful for as his headache had been steadily growing worse since he'd left the training yard. He watched several couriers come and go as he walked up to the Alchemist's workshop and, thankfully, didn't see the Herald or Solas anywhere to be seen. Not that he was hiding his condition but he really didn't feel like explaining it to anyone at the moment.
Cullen had been a frequent patient of Adan's since he was recruited to his post as Commander nearly six months ago. Much to his relief, the Inquisition's somewhat gruff alchemist was rather good with headache remedies. Over the last few months, through a series of trial and error, they discovered those caused by Lyrium withdrawal their own animal so to speak which made them slightly more difficult to treat. After Cullen's last major headache, shortly before the explosion at the Conclave, he and Adan had been working on a new formula.
Needless to say, Adan was not surprised to see him in the slightest, "Ah, Commander, you look like you've crawled outta the Void."
"I see your bedside manner has improved much since my last visit," Cullen replied sarcastically.
"Heh. Let's see," Adan began digging through the many vials and potions that covered the sideboard, "Ah, here it is. New and improved!"
Adan pulled out a small vial of bright blueish green liquid which seemed to glow faintly and offered it to Cullen. He looked at it for a moment before taking the proffered vial, eyeing it suspiciously.
"Go on now, take it," Adan insisted, waving at him dismissively, "I haven't killed you yet, have I?"
Cullen sighed and downed the contents of the vial in one go. He'd decided months ago that, no matter how foul tasting the medicine was, he would not fuss. Fussing was for lesser men. He raised a curious eyebrow at the strange taste but said nothing, only holding up his hand to let Adan he was fine.
"Judgin' by the look on your face, it at least tastes better than the last batch," Adan said with a wide grin.
Cullen smirked slightly and said, "Yes, I'd say it's improved tremendously."
Adan shrugged, "One of the books said Ghouls' Beard was good for headaches and I thought maybe it would work for you. How was I to know it tasted like shyte?"
"I suppose you couldn't," Cullen admitted, laughing through his nose. He handed the vial back to Adan, drawing in a deep breath. The haze and pain seemed to be lifting already and he remarked, "This this one is working much faster than the last batch."
"Good," the Alchemist nodded, turning to make a notation in his journal. "Let me know if it wears off or you feel…off kilter. We'll tinker with the recipe again if need be."
"Very well," Cullen nodded, "Thank you, Adan."
"Think nothin' of it, Commander," he replied over his shoulder before turning back to continue scrawling notes in his journal.
As Cullen turned to leave, he nearly ran headlong into Mnemyn. Thinking quickly, he caught her gently by her shoulders preventing what would've been a painful collision, "Herald! I didn't see you there… are you all right?"
She smiled and readjusted the contents of her arms which he now realized were chock-a-block full of elfroot, "Yes sorry, I was worried I'd drop these. I guess I was in such a hurry and I didn't see you either."
"You picked these?"
"Yes," she nodded, turning to sit the near half-bushel of herbs on one of Adan's empty tables.
"Y'know when I said I needed herbs, Your Worship, I didn't expect you to go gather them," the alchemist teased dryly.
"It was no trouble," she replied brightly, dusting off her hands, "I found myself with nothing to do and figured my time would be better spent collecting herbs than reading—" she froze mid-sentence, her eyes going wide and cheeks flushing slightly. She shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat before continuing, "the book I was reading."
She couldn't see it, but Adan was smirking at Cullen as if to say he had some idea what sort of book it might be. He imagined she might be sharing novels with Lady Pentaghast, not that it was any of his business. Cullen shot Adan a mildly annoyed look before turning his attention to the Herald, "If you, uh, still find yourself with some free time, perhaps we could…talk?"
"I'd like that," she nodded, grinning wider still. As he turned to leave, he could have sworn her heard Adan sniggering. He sighed inwardly, shaking his head ever so slightly. He'd definitely hear about this the next time he came for treatment. He heard Mnemyn bid Adan a pleasant afternoon before turning to follow him into the small courtyard outside the alchemist's cottage.
They walked a dozen or so paces in companionable silence before Cullen turned to her and asked, "Ready for tomorrow's foray into the Hinterlands, my lady?"
"I think so," she said with a grin, "This may sound…odd, but I'm really looking forward to camping."
He chuckled and shot her a wry grin, "I'll warn you now, you may not be so enthusiastic after a few months of it."
"I'll keep that in mind," she shot back, laughing quietly at his side. After a few moments, her expression grew sober and she asked, "Any last minute tips before I go?"
He hummed, his left hand coming to rest on the pommel of his sword as he considered how to answer her. Finally, gesturing casually with his right hand, he said, "The Hinterlands is a vast wilderness well populated with all manner of hazards. Bears and wolves are the main predators to be wary of. What few troops we could afford to station there have reported there's been an increasing number of bandits as well."
"In addition to the mages, templars, and demons. Lovely," she groused and blew all the air from her cheeks ruffling a bit of her bangs out of her eyes.
"You did ask," he teased, smirking.
"I did," she replied amusedly, chuckling once more.
Again, they lapsed into companionable silence and were now walking past the training yard along the path which led to the forest beyond. Cullen thought this might be the longest they'd been in each other's company since he'd met her, although why that would matter so much to him, he refused to admit. He watched as she tucked an errant loose hair behind her ear and smiled to himself, marveling at how terribly nice it was just to take a walk with someone.
"So, uhm," she began a little nervously, "As a former templar, what's your take on the Mage-Templar war?"
"I think this conflict has been building for a great many years, unfortunately," he mused, "The Chantry could have done more to alleviate the growing animosity between the two groups. Instead, it either turned a blind eye to the glaring problems or worked to outright exacerbate them."
She made a thoughtful noise at his side, nodding in reserved agreement, "A very enlightened opinion, Ser."
"For a templar?" he asked with a smile. He'd intended it as a jest but he had to admit, he really did wish to know what her own personal stance was on templars in general. Their last conversation on the topic had been dreadfully too short.
"For you, Commander," she grinned, "as a person. That you used to be a templar does inform me of any potential biases you might have but, even then, I'd never assume. I'd much prefer to learn your thoughts and opinions, t'is…more friendly."
Cullen swallowed hard at her answer, unable to reply nor look her in the eye. Instead, he nodded and rubbed the back of his neck as an awkward silence stretched between them. If she knew some of the things I've said, I doubt her opinion would be the same.
"What do you think of mages?" she asked candidly, "Are they, well, we all a threat?"
"I've seen the suffering magic can inflict," he admitted in a somber tone. His thoughts immediately turning to the horrific events he experienced during the fifth blight. Although Uldred's treachery at Kinloch Hold was over a decade past, the scars the blood mages left on his heart and soul still felt so raw. Cullen drew in a deep breath, forcing the unpleasant thoughts aside and, while it took a great deal of effort to keep his expression as neutral as possible, somehow found the mental fortitude to do so. He continued, "I've treated mages with distrust because of it – at times without cause. That was unworthy of me and I will try not to do so here."
He couldn't quite tell but, from the way she was looking at him, he thought perhaps she may have picked up on his discomfort. If she had, she didn't comment on it but merely nodded before replying, "We've all made decisions in our pasts that we regretted later, Commander."
"With the Inquisition, we have a chance to make things right again. To show all of Thedas that Mages and Templars can work together without animosity or fear. That said, I don't want either group moving through our base completely unchecked," he paused, "We need safeguards in place to protect people – mages included – from possession at the least."
"Abominations running pell-mell through camp in the middle of the night would be a problem," she agreed. "And terribly messy."
He shot her a look of mild disbelief to which she replied, "Sorry! It's an extremely bad habit of mine; defusing uncomfortable subjects with awkward, ill-timed humor. You'll get used to it. Eventually. Well, not necessarily. I haven't gotten used to it and it's my own bad habit."
Cullen found himself chuckling at her awkward yet oddly adorable commentary, turning to her he said, "No need to apologize, my lady. I knew a templar recruit who shared your…habit; he often joked he'd hide behind his shield if he could."
"Sounds like a splendid fellow," she replied, "Did he also join the Inquisition?"
"He never completed templar training, actually," Cullen replied with a thoughtful frown. Off her curious look, he explained, "he was recruited into the Grey Wardens shortly before the Fifth Blight."
She nodded, clasping her hands behind her back as they continued to meander down the path. The subject of the Blight was a terribly heavy subject and one, due to his own experiences, which made him want to change the subject as quickly as possible. They paused, finding themselves having reached the end of the path which terminated on a dock overlooking the moderately large, frozen lake that comprised Haven's northwestern border.
"You wouldn't also happen to have an unholy love of cheeses, would you?" Cullen asked her, giving her a slightly lopsided grin as he remembered how Templar-recruit Theirin could go on for hours about cheese.
She shot him an odd look, answering, "Unholy, no…although a nice smoked anything is lovely. Especially during Satinalia. Why do you ask?"
He was laughing now, shaking his head, "Then I'd imagine you'd get along fairly well with Alistair."
"He's the templar-recruit you—oh of course! Yes, I remember now. Oh, Maker!" she said excitedly. So excitedly, in fact, that the statements came out as nearly one gushing, long sentence. Her cheeks flushed crimson at her own enthusiasm, so she cleared her throat and tried to appear composed before beginning again calmly, "You know Warden Theirin?"
Before he could respond, a wicked wind swept across the lake and with it, a frigid blast of snow and ice crystals. Thinking quickly, Cullen pointed to a nearby pine which they managed to duck behind until the hail of snow blew past. For the briefest of moments, Mnemyn had slipped and lost her footing and Cullen caught her gingerly against his chest. She mumbled her thanks as he gently righted her. He watched her swallow hard as they stared at each, each clearly unsure of what to do.
He noticed some snow on her cheek and felt his fingers twitch at his side. It'd be too forward to dust it off, he argued mentally. Although, he reasoned, if she wasn't going to do it, perhaps he should. Throwing caution to the wind, Cullen gingerly reached over to swipe the snow from her cheek. She immediately reciprocated, dusting some from his hair, a slight smile tugging at her lips.
Cullen managed to mumble his thanks while awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck for lack of anything to do. Mnemyn merely smiled shyly and nodded, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear as she shifted her gaze downward. Despite his surprise, Cullen found himself admiring how adorable she looked even in her embarrassment. Realizing the extremely awkward silence between them, Cullen finally managed to regain his senses and blurted out, "Perhaps we should head back?"
"Uh, yes, probably a good idea… looks like a storm's blowing in," she replied before turning to step back on the path toward Haven proper.
"What were we talking about?" he asked after a few painfully long, awkward moments.
"I believe I asked if you knew Warden Theirin," she reminded him.
"Ah, yes. No, not very well," he cautioned her gently, smiling at her excitement. "Why do you ask?"
"I've always had a minor obsession with the Grey Wardens," she admitted sheepishly, "When I was small, my Gran used to tell us Grey Warden stories and I've always found those tales incredibly heroic. And perhaps a bit romantic, I guess."
He shook his head, smirking, "Yes, I can see how it'd be terribly romantic fighting darkspawn."
"Well, when you frame it that way, no," she replied in a slightly disappointed tone. He watched her shake her head, as if determined not to let that get her down, and a look of nostalgia cross her face which set her eyes twinkling with delight. She tossed her hands out excitedly and with youthful exuberance, exclaimed, "I meant the heroic bits with the griffons and dashing swordplay!"
He slanted her a skeptical look and said, "Swordplay is far from romantic or dashing."
"Oh, I don't know," she replied, "I've watched you training with the troops. I'd argue it's certainly an art of a sort… at least when you're wielding the sword."
Cullen blinked in surprise, barely swallowing a gasp. He recovered quickly and replied, "Y-you've watched me training?"
She smiled and shrugged, "Yes. Should I not?"
"I-I didn't say that, I'm just…surprised," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, "though I can't imagine it'd be very entertaining, my lady."
"I beg to differ," she commented airily, "You're very entertaining, Commander."
His cheeks felt as though they were aflame now and all Cullen could manage to do was clear his throat and rub the back of his neck. How am I so incredibly tongue tied? he grumbled mentally. Looking up, he noticed they were now only a dozen or so paces from the training yard and Cullen felt his stomach lurch when he caught sight of Rylen watching them with great interest. Maker's breath.
"Ah, well… thank you…" he managed, casting a glance about to see if anyone else, particularly Leliana, was watching.
She smiled, placing her hand gently on his forearm, "Thank you ever so much for the lovely walk, Commander. I think I've kept you from your duties long enough."
"O-of course," he stuttered, "Another time, my lady."
Cullen found himself staring after the Herald after they parted ways. After a moment, Rylen sidled up beside him, smiling like the cat who swallowed the canary. Cullen shot him a suspicious look but didn't dare ask what Rylen found so amusing. Not that he'd have to, he knew.
"So, how was your date with the Herald?" Rylen drawled in both a musical and deeply amused tone.
"E-excuse me?" Cullen stuttered, nearly choking on his own words.
"You heard me," Rylen chortled.
"Quit being ridiculous," Cullen shot back grumpily.
"She's certainly yer type," Rylen commented airily, rocking back on his heels.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Cullen muttered, turning to stomp off toward the small, battered secretariat he used as a watch desk. He removed a stack of reports from beneath a paperweight and began sifting through them in an attempt to signal he was not in the mood for hijinks.
"Certainly more yer type than Warden Amell was, anyway," Rylen opined brightly.
Cullen nearly dropped the entire stack of reports at the mention Ellendra Amell but managed to recover at the last moment though not without crumpling a few pages. Rylen clapped him on the back, chortling loudly, "Oh, Commander…what will I do with ye?"
Cullen let out a long suffering sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. There was no point in trying to argue with Rylen. And, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew his second was correct. Although he'd never admit it. Outloud. To anyone. Ever.
He tried to affect a look of annoyance as he glanced at Rylen, "Maker's breath! May we speak of something else?"
"Of course, Commander!" the gregarious Starkhavener retorted with a grin. "Shall we go over this week's roving watch roster?"
"Yes, that'll do," Cullen agreed. Anything to take his mind off of the Herald would be a mercy right now, he decided. Though much to his dismay, he soon realized that he could only mostly focus as Rylen began reviewing the roster.
Between answers to Rylen's questions or offering a suggestion on staffing, he began to worry his increasing infatuation with the Herald was becoming not only disruptive but on the verge of becoming inappropriate. He sighed inwardly, forcing himself to refocus on the task at hand. He'd have plenty of time later, he decided, when he was off duty to decide what he should do about his feelings toward Mnemyn.