"Is something the matter?" Cullen asked as they walked back to her room that evening.
Leliana had begged off with a mischievous twinkle, saying she had to meet with a contact at the docks, and they were alone once more. Dinner had been awkward and uncomfortable, all the more so because it had been interspersed with so many shocks of pleasure. After she'd taken her seat, Cullen had sat next to her on the bench without any fanfare, kissing her sweetly before diving in to his meal and conversation with the rest of the long table. It had been so easy, so natural, that she'd found herself gripping his hand under the table before her mind had any say in the matter.
He'd shown her just the right amount of affection to prove his intentions, but not so much as to be embarrassing. He'd taken the good-natured ribbing of his men well, allowing them their fun at his expense, but shut them down quickly when the teasing drifted too close to Cassandra herself. And whenever she shifted in her seat, feeling the tension inside her boiling over, he'd squeezed her fingers lightly to calm her without looking.
The way the hard length of his thigh had felt pressed to hers hadn't been unwelcome, either.
In short he'd been a perfect gentleman, the type of man any woman dreamed of, including Cassandra herself. She would have been overwhelmingly giddy, if not for that word pounding through her skull like a smith's hammer.
Forever.
"If it was the men," said Cullen when she didn't answer, "they didn't mean anything by it. Not to you. They've been after me to date for a long time - I've lost count of the numbers of important meetings I've entered that held only a confused woman who said she'd been summoned for an audience - so they're a a little too smug about this. I think they believe a smitten commander will somehow be more slack in discipline." He smiled a little. "They might be right."
He sobered as he looked back at her. "But they like you. They do, almost as much as I do, and they'll apologize if they've made you uncomfortable."
Her skin was tingling from the word 'smitten', but she tried valiantly to ignore it. "No, they were fine. You handled them quite well, I thought. I can see why they follow you so loyally."
Cullen ignored the compliment. "Then what is it?" He took his hand away from her own, where he'd been rubbing tiny circles on her palm as they walked, and asked cautiously, "Have I done something improper? Or have you had second thoughts?"
Before she could answer his eyes widened in horror and he stopped walking. "That's it. Maker, you were just being polite. Trying not to embarrass me in front of my command. Oh Cassandra, I'm so sorry. I should have known that once you'd had time to consider…"
His face was agonized as he trailed off, and she knew he was on the cusp of turning on his heel and fleeing like a halla in the face of a hunter. She reached out and grabbed his sleeve to stop him before he could start. His sleeve made of a material that was only a shallow step down from his formal clothing the first night. Despite her own practicality, he was still trying to impress her.
"Cullen. Stop. We cannot speak together if you have already had five conversations before I've had the chance to have one."
He nodded, but there was so much fear in his eyes, in the shape of his brow and the set of his mouth, that it almost broke her heart. She stepped closer to lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek. He didn't reach for her again, but he did relax a little.
"I was not being polite. I am not a polite person," she said. "I also do not lead men on into places where they have no hope."
"Of course you don't. I didn't mean to suggest -"
Cassandra put a finger to his lips, and he blinked at her. She smiled a little at his befuddled expression, then gathered herself once more. "I am very attracted to you. You are exactly the kind of man I, well, that I admire. But we have known each other only a short time, and this afternoon you spoke of an intimacy, a length of intimacy, that I am not prepared for."
There. As plain as she could make it that this would be blazing, but very, very temporary. If he couldn't accept that, she would walk away. It would cost her dearly, but to push where she was unwanted would cost even more.
She brought her hand down as embarrassment crossed his face. "I knew it was too far," he muttered, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "It's just that, well, Leliana had mentioned that there was a man in your past who didn't… treat you as you deserve. That he was a man who didn't remain faithful."
He misinterpreted her frown and hastened to add, "We weren't discussing you, not truly. She mentioned it only in passing and gave no details, no specifics of any kind. I'd hoped she was encouraging me, letting me know I had reason to hope. But it would have been completely inappropriate to pry." He gave her a hesitant look. "I won't pry now, either. But please don't be angry with your friend over this. She didn't mean to breach a confidence."
Cassandra resisted, with great effort, the urge to roll her eyes at his naivete.
"Regardless, I wanted you to know that I'm not like that. You are the only woman I see, or intend to see. I understand our positions, your responsibilities and my own, and our time together won't be as lengthy as I would like. But when we are together, I'd like to make the most of it," he said. "That's what I meant, and utterly failed to say. I wasn't proposing marriage," he added with an uncomfortable laugh.
And that was likely as close as the man could get to saying aloud that he knew they would only have these few weeks to enjoy. But he clearly intended to enjoy them with only her. He really was very romantic, and her heart fluttered happily.
"Very well, Knight-Commander," she said with her best attempt at a sly grin. "I accept your terms."
"Good," he said. They hadn't yet made it to her room, but he didn't seem to care as he pushed her in to a recess in the wall and kissed her intimately. "You really are the most beautiful woman. You have no idea how hard it is to be near you and keep to propriety. The things you do to me…"
The pressure of his mouth was soft and tender on her neck. "I might have some idea," she said, thinking back to their trip to Kirkwall.
"Tell me."
"What, here?"
"Yes. I have to know that I'm not the only one who feels it," he said quietly.
That was a reassurance she could give easily. As he continued to taste her, to run his hands down her body and graze up underneath her tunic, she told him of her very indecent mental wanderings as they'd drifted across the water. He groaned appreciatively at each detail, which only made her more determined to share them all.
By the end his mouth was decidedly less gentle, and he laughed darkly when she subsided. "I think we need to go back to Kirkwall again. Soon."
"What for?"
He leaned back and gave her a boyish smile. "I need to take you to a proper dinner, of course. With candles on the table. And flowers. With music. And definitely no interlopers."
"I would like that," she said, then leveled a stern glare at him. "It's your turn."
"I'm not nearly so eloquent," he said. "Nor is my accent so stimulating."
She glared harder. "You have a gorgeous voice."
He ran his hand through the hair at the nape of her neck. "Very well," he said with a hint of trepidation. He moved closer, but not before she saw the flush in his cheeks. "My office window overlooks the training grounds, for obvious reasons. I watched you there every morning, fighting with all of that self-possessed grace. And it's very good that my door locks. For even more obvious reasons."
Cassandra desperately wanted to tease more details from him, to see that flush run down his neck and his chest and Maker knew where else. But she wanted even more for him to say things like that to her again, so instead she only said, "Next time wait until I join you."
He smiled. "I'm not sure my office is quite ready for the sight of you," he said, kissing her once more, "but I'll try. " They stood that way for a long time, leaning into one another, until a throat cleared next to them.
"Seeker Pentaghast?"
They sprang apart quickly and turned to the voice. It was a young man, a servant instead of a Templar, and he looked terrified. Cassandra nearly laughed, but she schooled her expression into a businesslike mask and said, "Yes?"
"I'm so sorry, Your Highness, but there's a problem with the prisoner. The dwarf, Tethras."
Her expression was no longer forced. "Don't call me that. And what is it?"
If anything he looked more terrified. "There's a member of the city guard here. She's saying she's taking him away, and she won't leave. I think she's going to fight the men in front of the room. My lady."
Cassandra nodded and moved towards her room to grab her weapon. Cullen trailed, grumbling, as the servant fled. "Next time we're going to make it inside your room," he said in a low voice behind her. "This hall is much too trafficked."
Despite her new tension she couldn't keep a smile from her face.
They heard the shouting before they reached the door, and they both broke into a run. When they skidded around the corner, Cassandra expected to see drawn weapons, and possibly blood. Instead it was merely a heavily armored, red-haired woman going toe-to-toe with two even more heavily armored guards, with nothing but her voice. "I demand that you release this man. He's committed no crime," she said. "Let me in this instant or be reported on charges to the Viscount."
"The dwarf is here by order of the Knight-Commander -" one of the guards began, then broke off as he saw them over the woman's shoulder. "Ser! Your orders?"
"Stand down," said Cullen, showing absolutely no fear as he strode up behind the woman. She whirled around, face hard, but he didn't break stride. Cassandra wondered, vaguely, if he was showing off again. "Guard Captain Aveline. What brings you to the Gallows?"
Cassandra grimaced. Not just a member of the guard. Their leader. Trickier, but as a emissary of the Divine she still had the authority to countermand her. It would just take longer to convince her of it.
Then her mind caught up to her. Aveline. Another of Hawke's companions. But not as close, according to Cullen. They'd been working colleagues more than confidantes, and Aveline's passion for law and order meant the woman was likely the last person who would know anything about the missing Viscountess. And the records of her official investigation had been in Cassandra's hands for weeks.
So she stayed silent as Aveline poked Cullen in the chest. "You know very well. You can't simply detain citizens at your whim, Knight-Commander."
"He has information we need."
"Varric knows far less than he pretends, as you also know well. And I've received word that he's been mistreated in your care, which is absolutely unacceptable," said Aveline. A look of disappointment crossed her face. "Cullen, where is your honor?"
That broke her silence. "He has certainly not been mistreated," said Cassandra hotly, stepping forward. "Every effort has been made to keep him in relative comfort. Varric certainly makes no complaints." Aveline opened her mouth to speak, but Cassandra overrode her furiously. "And the Knight-Commander is the very embodiment of honor."
The two guards smothered chuckles, and even Cullen's mouth quirked in a grin. She tried not to be embarrassed under their gazes, focusing instead on the captain. The woman's expression didn't change. "And I'm supposed to simply take your assurances on this? I have no idea who you are, but I'm not in the habit of trusting strangers with swords. You have no authority here."
"I'm Seeker Pentaghast, the Right Hand of the Divine. I have authority everywhere. Serah Tethras will remain here, under it, until I am satisfied."
"Like hell he will," snarled Aveline.
Cullen stepped between them as both women placed their hands on their swords. "Ladies, please. There's no need for bloodshed," he said. He turned to the captain. "Aveline, I assure you that there's been no mistreatment. You know that's not how we operate. I've allowed you to examine the mage quarters, and our prison cells, countless times. And you know me."
A touch of uncertainty entered her eyes. "My information was on very good authority," she said. She sighed. "But yes, I do know you. I could hardly believe it of you, to be perfectly honest. But you've had a difficult history. All men have their lapses."
Cassandra made no move to release her sword. Just how well did this guard captain know Cullen? She was pretty, in a brutish sort of way. One of the women his men had tried to push in his path? Or had he sought her out himself?
Her jealousy only intensified when Cullen touched her arm, even though there was only metal under his fingertips. "Trust your instincts. Varric is here, and we have clashed in the past, but I'm not Meredith. I'm not even Hawke. I don't make decisions that way. He's quite untouched." When she didn't speak, he added, "When did you return, anyway? I thought you were up on the Wounded Coast, taking care of pirates."
"Speak plainly, Cullen. You mean slavers. Nothing, I'm afraid," she said. "I returned only a few hours ago. I found the waiting messages and came directly here. I owe Varric that much." She crossed her arms. "Let me see him."
Cullen glanced back at Cassandra, asking silent permission, and she shrugged. It was his garrison. His friend.
"As you wish," he said, nodding to the guard. The man took a key out of his pocket and fitted it to the lock just as Leliana entered the hallway.
"What are you doing here?" asked Cassandra, more sharply than she'd intended.
Cullen's eyebrows raised, but Leliana only said sweetly, "I was just passing through."
Cassandra and Aveline both snorted, then looked at each other in surprise. Leliana politely didn't comment. "I'll just follow you in, then," she said.
When the guard swung open the heavy door, Cassandra pushed through first, followed closely by Aveline and then Leliana. Cullen took up the rear, and Cassandra noticed he took up a place behind Aveline. But she only noticed briefly, because Varric was sitting in a soft wing-backed chair, sipping from a wine glass and reading a novel.
Aveline made a hissing noise, like a tea-kettle boiling over, and Varric smiled broadly. "Aveline! Thank the Maker you've finally come to deliver me from these people."
"You said you were being mistreated!" said Aveline. She took two long steps forward.
"I am! There's only one window here. I've almost run out of novels to read. And there's no ale at all! Just this wine, which, I assure you, isn't fit to be drunk." When Aveline gave a pointed look at his half-empty glass, he shrugged. "Desperate times. Plus, the Seeker has been absolutely relentless in her questioning. My voice is withering away."
"Is that true?" asked Aveline over her shoulder. Her voice made it clear she already knew the answer.
Cassandra said dryly, "He might have left days ago if he could take a less tortuous route through a tale."
The captain laughed without humor. "That sounds about right," she said.
"How did he get a message to you?" asked Leliana.
Varric's eyes widened. He made a violent movement with his hand, accidentally flinging his book through the air, but Aveline ignored him. "Hand signals to the bartender at the Hanged Man, who reports to me. Varric's hovel does attract actual criminals, at times. And a servant here, paid to pass one along. Paid handsomely."
"Great," said Varric. "Why don't you just tell them all of my secrets while you're at it?"
"You're lucky I don't," said Aveline. "You realize I could be with Donnic now instead of responding to your false alarms?" At Cassandra's questioning noise she added, "My husband. A guardsman, and a man I haven't seen in far too long."
Cassandra's eyes narrowed. "Wait. You're a guard captain who married one of the men under her command?"
"Do you have a problem with that?"
"Tell me, did your courtship start with a one-sided interest on your side?"
Aveline turned to her fully and frowned. "I suppose one could say that, yes. Or, that was the appearance of the thing."
"Seeker…" said Varric desperately.
She paid him no mind. "Hesitant, half-awkward advances?"
"I don't know about that," said Aveline, but the set of her jaw was more than enough to betray her. That and Cullen's muffled laugh.
Cassandra nodded. "It is as I suspected. You are the subject of Swords and Shields."
"What's Swords and Shields?"
They shut Aveline into the cell with Varric at her firm command, a command Cassandra didn't mind following in the least. As the door swung closed they heard her at full bellow, and the audience, including the guards and several other Templars who'd gathered in precaution, made no effort to hide their grins.
"So you're reading a Tethras novel?" asked Cullen quietly next to her. They'd been waiting for five minutes, and even Cassandra was starting to be slightly concerned.
"I thought it would build a rapport," she said. "But it's not as terrible as I thought it would be. Very romantic."
The sparkle in his eyes was extremely distracting. "You'll have to show me."
She snorted. "I could never be that awkward with a man," she said.
A booming knock came from the other side of the door, and the guard sprang to open it. "I hope they keep you here for a month, Tethras," shouted Aveline behind her as she stomped out. She turned to her audience with a steely gaze. "I mean it."
Leliana smiled a smile that was not quite nice. "We may need to. I've learned a new name to tempt him into forthrightness," she said. She raised her voice. "Bianca Davri."
Varric's yelp sounded close to panic. "Aveline! You can't leave me here! Please!"
The captain nodded to the guard, who closed the door again. She made a small bow to Cassandra. "Forgive my rudeness, Seeker. It seems I was working from some bad information. With your blessing, I'll return home."
"Of course. I appreciate your dedication to the well-being of Kirkwall's citizens," said Cassandra evenly. She knew the sharp amusement in Aveline's eyes matched her own.
"Stop by the barracks at the Viscount's, if you ever make it across the harbor. I'll stand you a drink. At a reputable tavern," said Aveline, then turned and walked away with the swinging gait of a guardswoman on patrol. "Goodbye, Knight-Commander," she called behind her.
Cullen smiled. "Varric always did overplay his hand."
Leliana accompanied them this time, and while Cassandra had no problems being affectionate in front of her friend - it would hardly be the first time - Cullen seemed endearingly shy of being observed so directly. Strange that he would drive her to the edge of insanity in the hallways of his home but hold back under the gaze of only Leliana.
But it was good, in a way. Cassandra needed to examine that flash of intense jealousy with Aveline. It wasn't like her to be so possessive, and Cullen had just finished telling her of his constancy in a speech she'd believed. But even if he hadn't, she hardly had a claim on the man. They'd kissed, thoroughly and enjoyably, twice, and both just today. And Maker knew she had enough past love affairs that she could hardly begrudge him his own. If he'd even had one with the guard captain.
She bit the inside of her lip in vexation. All of her thoughts were logical. And true. So why did the memory of the woman saying so confidently that she knew him, using his name, or the gentle way he'd touched her armor, make her want to put on her own and find a training dummy to destroy?
When they reached their rooms, Cassandra gave a meaningful look to Leliana, who completely ignored it. It hardly mattered, as Cullen merely took her hand in his own and lifted it to press a kiss to the knuckles. "Until tomorrow," he said.
Cassandra stared at him, bewildered. "You do not wish to…" She trailed off as his eyes darted to their Orlesian chaperone.
He coughed nervously. "No. I mean, yes, but not tonight," he said. He still gripped her hand, and he tried to smile. "I owe you a dinner first."
A distinctive noise of appreciation came from the direction of their audience, and Cassandra tried to come up with something to throw at her as Cullen blushed.
Nothing came to mind, barring her sword, so instead she squeezed Cullen's fingers. "As you desire. Shall we go tomorrow?"
The relief in in his eyes was obvious. "I would like that very much," he said. He kissed her hand once more, then bowed slightly. "Goodnight ladies."
They both watched him leave, with Leliana's eyes no less fixated on his retreating form, Cassandra noted with annoyance. When she elbowed the bard, the woman threw her a sharp glance. "Tell me you wouldn't look. Besides, you owe me. Do you know how difficult it was to pretend to be such a ninny?"
"You seemed much as usual to me."
"Oh yes, very amusing," said Leliana. Her voice was smug as she added, "You two would still be in the stage of lonely imaginations if it weren't for me."
"If you say so."
The Left Hand turned on her heel and strode into her room with a grunt. Cassandra smiled to herself. For as terrifying and knowing as Leliana could be, stoicism was still a reliable weapon against her patience.
Cassandra went into her own room and changed for bed, but she didn't bother to put out the candle. She'd only just settled herself back to stare at the ceiling when her door opened and a blurry figure catapulted itself onto the other side of the bed.
Leliana grabbed a pillow and curled it under her chin. "Now. I want to hear absolutely everything."
