"That could have gone worse."
The Divine's voice floated over the partition between them, a paper thin curtain that gave Lana a view of her reclining silhouette as practiced hands smoothed some mashed fruit concoction over Leliana's body. Lana's limbs felt as if they weighed another fifty pounds each, but a proud exhaustion rolled through her body. She'd lasted twice as long as the first time she swam, even managing to try a little dive here and there. Wrapped in a robe they were keeping back special for the 'friend of the Divine,' Lana watched her pampered toes knock back and forth as she reclined on a padded deck chair.
"Perhaps I am unfamiliar with worse in Divine speak," Lana said, raising her voice to overcome the partition, "but I'd say having his sister walk in unannounced and threaten to drag him back to Ferelden is pretty high up there."
"Nonsense," Leliana scoffed, the silhouette of her hand waving before one of the attendants grabbed it to coat her arm in the mixture. "There were no duels of honor, no one tried to start a war, and no chantry cleric floated the idea of someone faking their death. Maker, I don't know what it is about small town Mothers and faking deaths but that's their answer to every problem."
"You're being facetious," Lana laughed.
Leliana yanked back on the curtain revealing her normally spotless visage coated in a disturbingly lumpy green and brown mixture. As she spoke a fruity scent floated off her rather swampy look. "Three different Mothers across Orlais all came up with the same plan to deal with a pair of barely adults who wanted to run away and get married."
"What did you suggest?"
"Give them a project that they have to accomplish together; anything that takes two days. Either they'll realize they're young and can't imagine spending the rest of their lives together, or it's true love and marry them without all the simulating death potions. Maker, where do they get these outlandish ideas?"
"Says the bard," Lana cut back with, folding her fluffy arms across her stomach. She accidentally scattered a cheese plate someone left out for her, not that there was much left on it to scatter.
"Ha," Leliana leaned back to her chair, but didn't close the curtain, "touché." The attendants pulled out a knife and Lana tensed up, but they only used it to slice apart a hunk of wood and place two wedges over Leliana's eyes. Lana yearned to ask what was the point, but she remembered she was in Val Royeaux; points were beyond Orlesians. Sometimes you did things simply because if you didn't you'd be wrong.
"Have you given much thought to the family situation?" Leliana asked from below her wood and fruit encrusted body. Watching her, Lana began to imagine ants sensing the feast coating her skin and come scurrying over to bite it all off. Absently, she scratched at her legs in her friend's honor.
"I...I don't know. What am I supposed to do? She's his sister."
"Are they close?"
Lana shrugged, "He'd never admit it as such, but he mentions her often and they do write. I think Cullen likes to pretend he's above it all while enjoying the foundation of his siblings."
"So poison's probably out." The attendants both paused, their eyes darting around in concern, so Lana put on her biggest laugh.
"Leliana, do not be so silly," she laughed again, pretending to clutch her stomach from how silly her friend was being. She'd never use poison to kill someone, not the Divine. Leliana on the other hand... "I feel like I'm on unsteady ground here trying to cast a crushing prison on a Emissary before it hits me back. Probably with a mortality curse no less. For being mindless, darkspawn sure love that one."
Her friend chuckled, then waved her hands in a dismissal at the two attendants who didn't seem to have anything better to do. After bowing deep to the respected Divine, they scampered off. Leliana sat up, her wood wheels popping off her eyes. She leaned through the drawn back curtain and Lana tried to match her, "You're going to have to work on your metaphors if you don't want everyone to know you're a grey warden or a mage."
"It was a simile," Lana began, before sighing into her chest. She was right, why not shout out "Hey, remember that time I killed an archdemon and saved all of you from the blight?" at the top of her lungs while she was at it.
"Lanny," a sticky hand reached over to catch hers, "do not worry. He adores you. Believe me, it's blatantly obvious to anyone who spends more than a few minutes with you." Lana shifted at that, feeling more self conscious from the way her friend played off the obvious affection between her and Cullen. "And, assuming he can convince his sister of that, they'll probably accept you, or at least stop threatening to drag him back home. It'll be fine."
"When has anything in my life ever been fine?" she sulked, flopping back onto the chair.
That drew a snort of the Divine, "All right, I'll let you have that one."
"I just, I guess it's..." Lana swung around on her chair to sit sideways in it, her feet planting onto the ground. With her hands digging into her bony knees below the fuzzy robe, she stared at Leliana, "I don't have any family, not...not like that. And, well, Ali didn't either that wasn't a complete waste of time. So, I'm not sure how to act, or what to..." Her thoughts paused and she tapped her chin, "Come to think of it, did any one of us during the Blight have any family? Oghren had his wife who, well..."
"Morrigan," Leliana hissed, dropping the wood back over her eyes.
"I'm not sure if that counts. I think her and her mother got on worse than Oghren and his crazy dead wife. I never thought of that before, we were like a jolly band of orphans."
Leliana snorted at that, "A well armed, crazy, exhausted jolly band of orphans."
"...on our fifth night of leftover lamb stew, trying to pick around the moldy bits," Lana shouted out with a laugh.
"Which was surprising seeing as how we rarely ever had access to any lamb meat," Leliana said, sniffing her more refined nose up at their old cuisine.
"Alistair had his ways."
"Speaking of..." Leliana sat up now as well, her skin creaking as the paste across her body hardened. "I recently received word that there is to be a blessing gifted upon the Therin household."
Lana released a breath, "Is that all? Maker, I was worried you were going to go back into...never mind," she blinked, "What took him so damn long?"
"You knew?"
"You didn't?"
Leliana pursed her cherry red lips, now smeared in actual cherries and some plums. "I was aware of the idea of a potential child, but I thought..."
"Yeah, the old warden curse still stands," Lana said, steadying her shoulders.
"Interesting," Leliana dug her fingers into her chin, causing half of a mashed up fruit stand to flake free. "Do you think he will accept the child?"
"It's family, all Alistair's ever wanted is family. He'll dive head first in, probably put most other kings to shame. I bet you a copper he'll even change nappies."
"No, that's..." Leliana shook her head in disagreement, but paused, her calculating eyes sliding over Lana who probably knew what made Alistair tick more than anyone in thedas. "A curious thought. There are other princes and princesses who are not makes of their fathers. One that's not from his mother but that was a very extenuating circumstance. I'm certain Alistair will do well with it. He has a habit of failing upwards."
Lana snickered at that and reached for her deep blue glass. Water sparkled in it, but a strange kind filled with electric bubbles. She wasn't certain if she liked it yet, even after three glasses.
Leliana watched her drink, before dropping her next question, "And how do you feel about it?"
She managed to swallow, but the bubbles burned white hot trails down her throat in the process. "What?" Lana rasped out, coughing to get the water out of her nose.
"Alistair, with a child, was that not the reason...?"
"For the love of the Maker, do you not have a hobby? Am I your only source of drama or something? Leils, I'm happy for him, really. It's not just the baby stuff that was why we couldn't work, and you damn well know it. There's no way thedas would've stood for that. By the void, I'd receive complaints about the idea courtesy of rampant rumors and nothing else, even when I hadn't been to Denerim in years."
"What of Cullen?" she asked.
"I don't think he cares much one way or the other. He was a bit bothered when Alistair confessed it to him, but other than that..."
Leliana pursed her lips before speaking, "Does he know about you and children?"
"You make it sound as if I boil them whole in a pot and use their bones for spells," Lana grumbled, earning a glare from her friend. "Yes, fine, he knows. All of it. In fact, I told him during that snowstorm where you caught us, uh... He's known for awhile, plenty of time to turn around and run, but he keeps sticking around for Maker only knows why."
Beaming at her, Leliana slipped back to her chair, "I believe I know why, and very well, I shall drop it. You seem to have everything well in hand."
"I wouldn't take that leap unaided, but I'm trying, very hard," she ran her fingers down her chest to tap against the birthmark. Alistair never cared about it much, she was well aware of his preferred assets, but Cullen adored it. And the idea of him loving it, touching it, kissing it, awakened a warmth in Lana's stomach. She smiled to herself and rested back. Maybe she was worrying too much and things would work out. It'd be a nice change.
"Why did you wear the Divine robes here?" Lana asked, turning the scrutinizing gaze back upon her friend. "You changed out of them the moment you arrived, it seemed rather superfluous and it'd have been easier to avoid the worshipping crowds without."
"Because," Leliana smiled, "even without the hat everyone knows the Divine is here relaxing, moving among the people without a concern."
"Concern?" Lana sat up at that. "Leils, are you worried about assassins?"
"Lanny, was there ever a time in your Arlessa career you weren't?" That was a fair point. "Now amplify that by all of southern thedas, add in one side angry about the mages, another about elves, and a third that's always angry and you have a rather spiteful bunch. I'm keeping an eye upon it, I assure you. But, every now and then it does the people good for the Divine to leave her gilded palace, and Maker does it keep me sane."
"Now that I can agree with," Lana admitted, sliding back onto the chair. While she'd take luxury over the frozen hard ground pocked with insects drawing a pint of blood, after awhile the gilded glint rubbed her eyes raw and sometimes she needed to shout against the chantry's enforced whisper.
Her fingers tapped against her cheek, and she mused, "Perhaps I should send a letter to Zevran."
"Do you think that's wise?" Leliana's skin cracked up again as she turned to face Lana.
"All that talk of assassins, I...it seems cruel to leave him out of our little circle. What?"
"I didn't realize you two were in communication," Leliana cast a careful blue eye over Lana who felt it crawling over her face.
She shrugged, "It wasn't constant. And at times would fall fallow as he was off doing whatever Zev did."
"Sex and mayhem would be my summation."
Lana laughed at that, "True. But he's a good pulse on the rest of the assassin underworld. If anyone's moving, then..."
"Old Lanny, you can't stop, can you?"
"Says Divine Victoria who filled her chantry with spies," Lana snickered, earning a shrug from the woman. It shouldn't surprise anyone, but she bet more than a few Mothers would be blown out of their hose if they learned the full reach of the Divine's fingers.
"Hm, I am curious what the Commander would make of our elven lothario."
"Before or after Zev propositions him?" Lana arched her eyebrow earning a laugh from Leliana. "I'm beginning to think your real fun is found in trying to make Cullen feel as off put as possible."
"It was only a thought," she tried to wave it all away as innocent, but Lana knew her too well.
"Anyway, it's not as if I'm the one who bedded Zevran," she shot a few pointed looks at Leliana before folding her arms.
Shrugging once, Leliana's bow lips pursed, "It was surprisingly better than I expected. Most men who drone on and on about their prowess are anything but. Yet, Zev had the, uh, goods to back it up, so to speak."
"He asked me once after Ali...after the archdemon fell, if I didn't want to give it a try."
"Really?" Leliana sat up in surprise. Somehow despite their love lives being a constant source of entertainment over the years, Lana never thought to tell her this fact. "What happened?"
"I believe I told him 'I wasn't drunk enough yet, but to give me six months.' It wasn't my best response in that state, given, well...you know. But damned if that elf, sure enough, didn't pop up six months later with a bottle of Antivan brandy and that hopeful smirk on his face."
"Wait," Leliana twisted around fully in her seat, her fingers tapping against her face, "You two, you didn't actually...?"
"What? No! Maker, Zev's always just been a friend. We shared the bottle, talked shop for the night, and...maybe smeared mud under Alistair's sheets before bed. Least Zev told me it was mud, although..." Lana tried to dig back through years of her life, it'd been so long since she'd seen that cocksure elf. Before the fade, the Inquisition, even before Seheron. She kept failing to find time for her friends until time almost ran out on her. "Don't worry, Zev's your one or two night mistake. Hands off," Lana wagged her fingers and laughed before reaching for her drink.
"No, I suppose he's not really your type. Blonde yes, but something's missing. Now if he learned a few templar tricks..."
"Maker's breath," Lana sputtered, "do not start that again."
While she struggled to regain her composure and Leliana only offered up a gentle smirk, the two attendants returned. Bowing deep to the Divine, they made overtures that she was now free to wash the stomach contents of a fruit bat off and directed her, not to a tub as Lana expected, but a wall. Leliana stood patiently against the slate, only hints of her pale skin poking out below the green and brown mass. She prodded at a bit on her shoulder, and Lana glanced around wondering if small ferrets would be released to gently nibble it away. Sounded like something Orlesians would do.
Just as Lana was about to ask, a slot opened above Leliana and gallons of water plummeted from the ceiling to wash over her body. She didn't shriek or leap away, only stood stock still as the fruit crust washed over the floor. Prepared, one attendant waved a broom in its direction, moving the slosh towards a drain in the floor. Curious, Lana turned her head up towards Leliana and realized that the Divine decided to forgo wearing any small clothes under her fruit body mask. Leliana cared not a whit for her all natural state, but a few heads turned in her direction and couldn't stop staring. One man, his portly belly eclipsing the tight waistband of the cinched up trousers, nearly walked into a table as he couldn't take his eyes off the Divine's ample constituency.
Unaware of the uproar she caused, Leliana grabbed up a sponge and began to slick off the last of the fruit revealing her own porcelain skin glistening like brand new. Happily clean, she reached out for a towel and her crystal eyes wandered over to the man. It took a moment before he realized who was staring him down and an utter dread draped over him. Scurrying away with his head practically skimming the floor from the bow, the man plowed through a few others peeking in at the Divine. Shrugging once, Leliana slipped her arm through the robe offered to her.
"I don't think the rest of thedas knows what to make of a Divine who's not over 65," Lana said, trying to crane her neck to watch the beet red man scuttle towards the front door without looking at anyone.
"Yes," Leliana finished drying off and wrapped up her flame red locks in a blue towel. "It took quite some time to convince the elder staff that I continue to bleed."
"That is the one nice thing about being a warden, not having to deal with that mess once a month."
"It does make joining the order rather tempting," Leliana chuckled.
One of the attendants accepted her soaked towels gladly. "Does Most Holy require a private room for any matters?" Her eyes only darted to Lana for a moment before fully focusing on the Divine but it was an obvious enough glance. What in the...? Oh, here too.
"No," Leliana smiled, "I believe we should return to the Cathedral. You have someone to become acquainted with, after all." Her sweet smile didn't fool Lana. Internally she groaned, knowing Leliana expected to hear all the details later with particular emphasis on all the times Lana shoved her foot in her mouth.
"I suppose so," snatching up her cane, Lana managed to get up to her exhausted legs. While steadying herself, Leliana snuck up behind and wrapped an arm around hers.
"Careful, it's rather slick now."
"And fruity," Lana added. The entire spa smelled not of unguents and acids but the bright sparkle of strawberries, cherries, and every melon in thedas. It lifted the hand of winter and transported her back to summer days lounging in meadows watching the butterflies at play.
With Leliana holding tight, the pair slipped towards the entrance and the changing room holding their real clothes. As they passed the two attendants, she overheard one whisper something to the other. Most of it was intelligible, but the words "Divine" and "commander" both came up, followed by a mile long stare Lana's way. Wonderful, more rumors following her wake.
Unaware of the gossiping, Leliana gestured in the direction of the terrified man, "How many canticles do you think he's speaking right now to make up for catching the Divine unclothed?"
"At least a dozen. Perhaps you should instate naked chantry services. After all, we did have to walk through Andraste's flame in such a state," Lana said, trying to sound lighthearted, but she felt even more eyes swinging towards her.
"That's true, but sadly I doubt I could talk the Grand Clerics into it. Not that the chantry doesn't already have a reputation for more lurid...you know."
"Speaking of, you're going to find this hilarious, but..." Lana steadied her legs under her and tried to take some of the weight off her arm. "I've been noticing looks shot my way. Jealous ones when I'm with you when you're Divine. It's funny, but I can't escape the idea that they're all under the delusion we're involved romantically."
"Oh, yes, many people think that," Leliana spoke so starkly Lana's knee froze in place, her foot hanging a moment off the ground.
"They, what? People think that-that you and I are...and you know about it?"
"Lanny," she chuckled, adjusting her grip to try and cushion it better, "how many rumors put you with every available man in Ferelden?"
"Too Maker damn many."
"It was unavoidable, given how much time I'm spending with a relatively unknown person, that people would assume we were more intimate," Leliana explained. She was right, it shouldn't come as such a great surprise all things considered. People loved gossip, no matter where they hailed from, and there was an ease with which the two of them played off each other that could be mistaken for an old romance.
"Also," Leliana's eyes winnowed down to her old shrewdness leaving Lana to wonder why she ever thought the woman was once a simple helpless Sister, "I've been encouraging the rumors."
"You...why?" Lana stuttered.
"Whispering that the Divine has a mistress gives the people comfort. They think they have leverage over me and it also helps them to see me as human. I may be the voice of Andraste, but I also indulge in the same vices from time to time. It keeps people at ease whether they realize it or not."
"Maker's breath," Lana sighed, her head dangling down, "You scare me sometimes."
"Says the woman who killed an archdemon," She turned her blinding smile on Lana as they finally made it to the changing rooms where someone took the time to lay out all their hastily discarded clothing across racks.
Lana reached out for her dress and tugged it close, "I thought we weren't going to talk about all my wardeny stuff anymore."
"Of course, how could I forget?" Leliana clapped her hand to her mouth, but the edges of her smile puckered out the side.
Leaning against the wall for leverage, Lana dropped her dress over her head and began the long task of buttoning it up. She got halfway up her chest, when a thought rattled in her head and a groan erupted through her throat.
Turning from her far more complicated robes, Leliana raised an eyebrow, "You may as well voice it."
"First Alistair, now you, is there anyone from the Blight I'm not going to be tied to in the annals of courtly whispers?"
The Divine knotted the first of five sashes and shrugged, "If you get in contact with Zevran we could have ourselves a proper orgy."
Plucking up her soggy robe, Lana chucked it at the Divine, scattering her fancy hat across the floor. "I hate you," Lana laughed at her best friend.
She was all smiles and laughs as they rode through the snowy streets of Val Royeaux clinging to a sled drawn by the Divine's personal hart, but as Lana drew closer to the door a dread settled in her stomach she couldn't shake. Leliana nudged her a few times insisting it would be fine, but the words buzzed like mosquitoes in her ear, the blood pounding through her brain from a panic crawling inside. She hadn't had to worry about people judging her before, people she needed to impress because they might slot into her life.
Before preparing to return to her work, Leliana extended a hand. Taking it, Lana threw up a forced smile, "Should we kiss goodbye, darling?"
Leliana chuckled, "It's all right, perhaps better to save it for an audience when the vultures are growing particularly thick."
Dropping her hand, Lana waved once at the Divine's form retreating back down the stairs. She wrung her fingers over the handle of her cane, trying to draw forth the energy from it to crack open the door and face whatever waited before her. Lifting her head back, she moved to grab onto the handle when the door opened of its own accord and Cullen stood in the way. He blinked for a moment, his frown blossoming into a smile as his eyes darted over her.
"You're back," he said, before turning around and sighing at Honor, "It's only Lana. Will you cease that whining? She began barking and dancing at some sound, I assume it was you and Leliana walking up the stairs."
Lana chuckled at the mabari's honed senses. At least they'd have some warning if an angry mob ever tried to storm to their little apartment. Sliding his fingers against her cheek chilled from the winter winds, Cullen cupped both to add his own warmth before guiding himself in for a kiss. The anxiety knotted in her innards flitted away from the press of his lips and Lana returned it happily. She felt serene and at peace, until her eyes darted away from him to find Mia sitting on the divan.
"How did it go?" Cullen asked, stepping backwards to give Lana room to enter.
"Oh, about what you'd expect," she tugged at her cloak, unclasping it with one hand, and turning to try and toss it over the hook. "Fairly certain Leliana gave a poor man a heart attack."
"On purpose or..."
She smiled at that, "It's hard to say with her."
"Indeed, and you missed a lot of her turn as a spymaster."
"You missed her time as the Left Hand. There were more than a few of her letters I had to burn the moment after I read them," Lana reached down to cup her fingers in his hand. Squeezing tight, she drew strength and so much more through him. Maker knew she was going to need it.
Mia rose off the couch and by the steel in her spine and set to her jaw Lana spotted the family resemblance. Softer in the face than her brother, they both bore the commanding presence that could lead nations if pressed upon. Her hair was brassier than Cullen's and braided into sections twisted around her head. She was a few inches shorter in comparison but stood far higher than Lana. Not that that was difficult to achieve for anyone other than dwarves. She even knew a few elves who stood inches or more above her.
"Things, uh, started out a bit awkward," Cullen spoke watching the two women slowly approach each other.
Mia blinked twice and then turned her head, "If you're the Hero of Ferelden..."
"Oh, not this again," Cullen scoffed. His sister glared at him for interrupting.
"If you will let me finish," she groaned at him before turning to Lana, "do you remember the time you interceded in the small village of Honnleath?"
Lana couldn't stop the smile, that memory vibrant, "Of course, when I met Shale."
"Shale?" Cullen asked.
"Ah, she was the statue in the square. Turned out to be a golem. Which reminds me, I should try and find her before she does any real harm to an indigenous bird population."
"It was a she?" Mia asked, her eyes opening wider.
"That is...a rather long story," Lana danced around it all. First meetings didn't seem the time to go into golems, living paragons trapped in the body of one, broodmothers, and the whole Branka mess. Perhaps over Satinalia dinner instead. "Was that all you wanted to ask me?"
"No, no, I...when you slaughtered the darkspawn that infested the town and freed the people, my sister - our sister - was one of them."
"Oh," Lana touched her chest, "I had no idea."
"Wait, what was Delilah doing in town?" Cullen interrupted.
Mia rolled her eyes, "She had a deep fascination with the, Maker I can't remember his name, the drippy one whose face looked more like a sick crow's. You know who I mean."
"No, I have no idea..." Cullen curled up his nose before turning to Lana, "And you rescued them? How had I never heard of this?"
"Perhaps because you never answer your blighted letters?" Mia interrupted, her arms crossing her chest, "I know I told you about Delilah's ordeal, Maker it was all we heard about for weeks. And then after we learned it wasn't just any warden but the great Hero of Ferelden who saved her it became a damn near constant."
"You don't need to thank me," Lana intercepted between the sibling argument. "It was a long time ago."
"Even so, you took the time in the middle of a blight to rescue people you didn't know. Apparently had no reason to know," her shrewd eyes danced over Cullen and Lana wondered just how much of their past the two had talked about while she was out. "Thank you. If Del was here she'd...blather on for twenty minutes and then thank you."
"I..." she'd had this happen before, people approaching her with arms extended wanting to hug their savior. Sometimes people thanked her for things she didn't even do, other less famous fighters having slaughtered the darkspawn, but trying to correct them only upset people more so she had to stay quiet. Lana felt a blush curling up her neck and she rocked back and forth on her heels, "You're welcome, but I was just doing my job."
"Aren't we all?" Mia said. "Oh, and one more thing, when you were in Honnleath, did the King of Ferelden come with?"
"Mia, why are you even...?"
"Quiet, it's important," she hissed.
Lana glanced up at the ceiling to think. She remembered Shale rising to life, the demon cat, and...oh yes, Alistair was there. He'd thrown a slightly smaller fit about the golem joining them than he had over Zev. And it wasn't as if Shale ever hit on her...or him. Smiling, Lana bobbed her head, "Yes, he was there."
"Damn," Mia cursed, snapping Lana's attention to her. In an explanation, Mia turned to her brother, "Delilah's been going on and on about how she saw the King before he ever took the crown, all proud of herself. We thought it was another one of her exaggerations but Maker, we will never hear the end of it now."
"In your defense, I rather doubt he acted very kingly at the time," Lana said.
"If ever," Cullen grumbled under his breath. She reached over to hold only his cheek and smooth away the worry lines, when Lana felt the curious prick of his sister's stare. It didn't seem judgmental, only curious, very curious. Lana's fingers plummeted away and remained locked at her side. The most apparently pressing question answered, silence fell into the room, one which none wanted to pierce for fear of what could fall out.
"Perhaps I should..." Lana began when the apartment door cracked open louder than usual and an almost harried Detan appeared.
"Commander," she bowed her head and he returned it.
"Do not tell me more of my family's appeared," he grumbled, crossing his arms.
"No Ser, but you should come with me. There is a matter that requires your attention now and...I-I," her steel eyes bounced around the room as if hoping someone would offer her salvation. "I don't know what to do about the druffalo!"
"Druffalo? What in the...?" Cullen's head slopped forward, the exhaustion evident. "Are there not any, no, of course not. What would the chantry know of corralling a druffalo?" He clawed at his head, then risked a glance from the panicked elf to his sister and then Lana. "I fear I should attend to this, but..."
"Maker's sake, stop making such a blight out of this. Head on down there and do whatever you have to. We'll be fine," Mia insisted, jabbing out her chin.
Lana wished she felt the same confidence his sister did, but then she was the one holding all the cards. The best Lana had was a joker and a two of cups. Her eyes darted over to Cullen and he seemed to catch the panic rising in them. Reaching out, his fingers crested around hers and gripped tight. He leaned near her and whispered, "I promise it won't be more than a half hour."
She wanted to assure him she'd be fine, that it was all for nothing, but fear knotted her tongue. All Lana could do was nod once and try to not bite her lip. Releasing her hand, Cullen dug through his hair once more before trailing after Detan and asking all the questions he could about this rampaging druffalo. As the door closed, Lana tried to not imagine she was just trapped in a room with an ogre who was lofting a boulder to crush her head. The silence tripled in strength, beating its hollow notes against them both as they tried to make occasional eye contact and then glance away.
Exhaustion from her day rattled up Lana's legs and she realized if she didn't sit soon, someone would have to be picking her up off the floor. "If you don't mind, I need to rest on the sofa," she said while sliding towards it. Honor perked up and leapt out of the way, giving her a clear path to crash onto the cushions. Gliding back with the dog, Mia watched for a moment before placing her backside onto the gilded chair Cullen hauled over their first day in the apartments.
Lana began to dip into the fade, when her fingers paused. The tendrils of magic shook off her hands as she glanced over at the guest who'd probably never seen much casting in her life. Lana was doing a great job at hiding her true nature.
Swiping once at her nose, Mia adjusted in her seat, "I suppose I should say something to you." Oh Maker. Lana tried to bury the rise of anxiety burning through her veins. She reached down to blindly pet Honor, getting a handful of slobber for her effort. "I'm sorry, for rushing in here with the accusations I had."
Wait. What? Lana turned over to Mia to find her eyes cast down as she glared at her hands. "We hadn't heard from him in some time and then out of the blue rumors are flying about the Commander of the Inquisition sequestered away in Val Royeaux with a mystery woman."
Rumors? Mystery woman? Maker, was this more of Leliana's doing or did Orlais truly have nothing else to speak of?
"I admit, none of that sounded anything like my brother, and I may have, no, I overreacted. For which I apologize," her eyes darted up to Lana.
Smiling, Lana bobbed her head, "It's accepted, and I can understand your reaction. Given the limited information, it doesn't seem like something Cullen would do. Much less remaining in Val Royeaux not under duress. Andraste, the complaints from his lips every time he returns from having to walk the market..."
"I'm surprised he hasn't gotten into a few fist fights along the way," Mia chuckled softly.
"There's a good possibility he does and will not tell me," Lana said, still upset about how he wouldn't elaborate on his fight with Alistair.
"That sounds like my brother," Mia massaged her head, digging in furrows across her forehead similar to Cullen's. "I admit, this is all a bit..."
"Strange?"
"Surprising. In that my brother is in love, seeming to be madly in love with...well, you. A hero, a grey warden."
"A mage," Lana sighed, always aware of what people thought of their pairing.
"That's perhaps the least surprising part of all," Mia said, which caught Lana's attention, but she didn't elaborate. Mia scrunched up her face and shook her head, "In all his letters home from Skyhold he never once mentioned you, even the one after you die- Fell?"
"Into the fade," she explained, her voice blank.
"All that time and there was nothing, as if he wasn't in mourning," Mia twisted her head at Cullen's choices, then she paused and guilty eyes darted up to Lana.
"I...we both decided to keep our relationship under wraps, at least as long as the threat of Corypheus remained. My being who I was, and his being who he is, if people knew they could jump to certain conclusions and then..."
"They'd think Ferelden or the Wardens were planning on taking over the Inquisition," Mia said.
"Or the mages, or Amaranthine, or...Maker, I'm too many people," she sighed which earned a quick snort from Mia.
"You're really her?" Mia glanced up and down Lana, no doubt sizing up the tiny mage tossed back in pain against the couch, "The great stopper of the blight, savior of thedas?"
Lana bobbed her head, "I'm afraid so. Never what anyone's expecting and there are more than a few Arl's and Bann's that can quote me on that."
Snickering at that, Mia adjusted herself in the hard chair, then crossed her legs. She wore trousers which made her stand out in the chantry see of robes, thick and padded to deal with the full winter of Ferelden. Somehow the true winds Lana expected, the cold bitter enough to freeze your hair to a brittle breaking point, never touched here. At least not yet. She kept waiting for a real storm to land. Looking at Mia, a curious feeling swarmed through Lana's gut and she started realizing it was homesickness. Not for the tower, or even the Vigil, but Ferelden itself. To be surrounded by barking dogs instead of the lap rats they had here, to smell crisp winds even in the height of summer, and to gaze out at the knotted cliffs and waving grasses. She missed it more than she ever thought possible.
"Why Cullen?"
Lana blinked a few times, dragging herself from her flight of fancy. "Beg pardon?"
"I can get why some of the gigglier specimens in Orlais think chasing down a Ferelden Commander would be fun. No doubt they imagine we're all secret Avar barbarians who'll toss them over their shoulders for conquering on bearskin rugs," Mia rolled her eyes at Orlesian stereotypes which were rather accurate. "But you're a Commander yourself, a...shit, you're an Arlessa, aren't you?" Lana nodded and bit her lip. "You could command the attention of people with real titles, land. Why my brother?"
Lana turned her frustrated sigh into a forced smile. She was tired of having to explain what seemed obvious to her, but perhaps family needed to know. "I'm technically as much of a no one as Cullen. My family is...there is no title passed down. I'm a mage, nothing to claim. A Warden, much the same. And..." Maker, why was this so hard? She felt she had to chose her words carefully, to prove she wasn't in it for-for what? A shot at infiltrating the Inquisition? At Cullen's power? Bragging rights?
Dropped her eyes to her lap, Lana watched her fingers thread through each other. With a steady voice, she laid out the truth, the full of it, "I had the worst crush on Cullen when I was an apprentice. Giggled like a braying mule near him, would try and find elaborate ways to talk to him, to, Maker help me, just stand near him. It never went anywhere, not in the tower, not when we were so opposed. I never thought it would go anywhere, then the world upended itself."
She twisted her hand over the solitary ring upon her middle finger, the band enchanted to increase her magic. In truth, the enchantment ran out ages ago. She wore it now because it was familiar and she liked the blue stones embedded deep within. Lana had a habit of holding onto things she loved beyond reason. "We found each other again, years after the blight, after we'd both changed from the war, from command itself I suppose."
"At Skyhold?" Mia asked, and Lana looked over at her for a moment.
"No, it was a few years before that. He was still with the templars and I a warden. I needed him to help with...a warden matter. Cullen didn't need to volunteer but he came, and we, well, reached out to each other. It was foolish, both of us knowing that nothing would ever come of it as we belonged to organizations above and beyond us, but...I don't regret it now and I didn't then."
"I...see," Mia leaned back, her fingers curled around her chin in contemplation. Whatever she was thinking was beyond Lana, who felt herself clinging by strands to make sense of any of this. What she needed was a book on navigating relationships to guide her, though it was doubtful there'd be a chapter called: So Your Dead Lover Is Back From The Grave And She Was Once Intimate With The King.
After a moment, Mia's fingers dropped and she glanced over at her, "I'm afraid that I know little about you, beyond the..."
"Rumors?" Lana sighed, tipping her head back to stare at the ceiling. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the glint of her plant happily consuming the sunbeams through the stained glass heart of Andraste. "I know some of them. There's the one that I'm a blood mage. Not true, for obvious reasons. That I'm the power behind the throne in Ferelden. Also not true, it was bad enough trying to keep an Arling in line."
"What of the King?"
Lana's half hearted smile crashed at Mia's innocuous question. She drug her head down and turned to the woman wearing a curious look on her face. Sweet Maker, did Cullen tell her about Alistair? Would he? Lana's brain scrambled to make any sense of the quagmire she walked herself into. "We were together before he took up the crown, but the moment he did it...we stopped being involved." A truth, of sorts. They could save the full of it for breakfast during First Day.
Mia scooted forward a bit, her face unreadable. Tapping her fingers a few more times against her mouth, she rolled her tongue in her mouth before speaking. "What's he like?"
"Alistair?" Lana snorted, "Did you ask your brother his opinion?"
"No," Mia shook her head, "should I?"
"You won't get much of an answer but it's rather entertaining to watch. Ah, Alistair is light hearted. He's a butterfly wafting over the grass, little touches him, but the things that do send him crashing to the dirt."
"I hear he's funny," she seemed enthralled with gossiping about royalty.
"To some people, he is. To others he's as trying as a rash. I am the former, but even to me his jokes could grate from time to time. Sweet, airy, and he cares to a dangerous degree sometimes."
Mia nodded along with each piece of information as if she was writing it all down for a book. As Lana fell to silence, uncertain what to say next, Mia's eyes darted up. "And what of my brother?"
"Cullen's the most determined person I've ever met. He makes me feel stronger, safer, more at ease. Each of his rare smiles blossoms inside of my veins, warming me, sometimes for hours after. And Maker, I could watch him move about all day," Lana mused to herself, thinking of the last time she held him in her arms.
"All right," Mia coughed, "I was wondering what he thought of the King but that was...interesting to hear. Maybe not so much the last part."
"Ah," Lana scrunched up her eyes and then dug her hands across her cheeks to try and hide the embarrassment charring them. "That wasn't meant to, I only...sorry. To, uh, sorry. But you should ask him yourself, if only for the sneer."
Mia sighed, and stuck her fist upon her hip, "That sneer. Would you believe he used to do the same when he was only a child? Three years old, running around bare assed and sneering because he refused to put on trousers."
Chuckling at the picture, Lana could easily see his trademark sneer having been something crafted at birth. "So it's not a Rutherford trait then? It comes so natural, I'd assumed..."
"No, that's all on Cullen. Branson has a little twist to his lips whenever he's perturbed, makes him look like a right ass but he thinks it's sophisticated."
"A sophisticated ass," Lana said.
"Which is the worst kind to have around. And Del's too flighty to ever sneer, or remember why she should be sneering in the first place. Total baby of the family syndrome with her," Mia leaned forward, a hand over her mouth as if whispering a secret. "What about your family?"
"I, uh," Lana waved her fingers around as if that could offer up an explanation, "I don't have any family. I was sent to the tower when I was six, and they chose to not keep in contact."
"Oh..." Mia paused, the member of a large, happy family uncertain how to react to someone from a broken one. Somehow the happy always had troubles understanding the sad, but never the other way around.
"It's not so bad," Lana said, "there are others who had it far worse. Arriving at the tower at 13 or 14, remembering their parents and siblings vividly only to have it all cut away because of..." She almost called it the Maker's curse. It sat in her brain like a black weevil buried deep inside a bag of flour. Even with every step she made, every embrace of who she was proving that mages weren't evil, the weevil remained reminding her that she was less than. A danger. Slapping on a smile, she changed directions, "I remember some of my life before. There was a small farm I grew up on."
"In the Free Marches?" Mia said.
"Yes," Lana was surprised, few knew her origins didn't begin in Ferelden. "West of Kirkwall, rather a bit west. It wasn't much, a few goats here, some sorghum there. What I really remember are the apple trees stretched across the horizon. Dozens of them waiting for children to scurry up in the branches and snatch away their fruit. I..." The memory stung back. She'd returned to that farm once, oddly enough with Alistair in tow. Maker, she didn't even know why. All her life, friends were her family, the people she chose, but after becoming the Hero she thought she needed something more. That was a mistake that tainted the few happy memories she clung to of her origins.
Through the dark mood, a bright thought lifted her lips and she smiled, "I do have one family member, Hawke. The Champion of Kirkwall."
"You're related to the Champion," Mia's eyes widened again and she looked over the tiny mage.
"Believe me, we look almost nothing alike. Act almost nothing alike too, but she's...she's the best cousin I could ask for that I didn't." Her eyes darted down to her lap, when Mia reached over and patted her hand.
"Family can be a right pain, but you make what you can with it," she said, nodding her head. Lana smiled at her for that, and she returned it. Then she leaned back and shook her head, "I swear, I could drop that man off a mountain for keeping you from us."
Lana laughed at the idea, "There were good reasons, but hopefully, that won't be an issue any longer."
That caught Mia, and she turned a curious eye on Lana. Before she could ask a question, the door burst open and Cullen ran through the foyer into the sitting room. His hair was slicked back in saliva as if a massive tongue lapped over his head, and mud splattered his clothes, but otherwise he looked none the worse for the wear.
"I'm here, I'm..." his eyes wild, he glanced around the room before spotting the two of them calmly sitting near the hearth chatting. "It's, are you two...?"
"Take care of the druffalo?" Lana asked innocently.
"Ah..."
"Let me guess, fingers up the nostrils then pinch back," Mia said, waving her hand as if it was no big deal.
"Tried that, but it wasn't actually a...you're both, um," Cullen glanced around the room as if he expected to find furniture tossed around and on fire. "You're..."
"Maker's breath," Mia waved her hand dismissively, "go and get cleaned up. You reek of druffalo shit."
"That," Cullen paused and lifted up his shirt to give it a good sniff. After crinkling his nose, he dropped it and slid towards their bathing room but not before casting one more concerned look at Lana. "Are you certain...?"
"Yes, don't worry. We'll still be here when you get out."
"Having a civilized conversation, no less," Mia spat back with. "Would you care for a drink?" she asked Lana, who tried to stagger to her feet to help, but she waved it away, "Don't worry, I know where the cups are."
"I..." uncertain what to do, Cullen walked backwards into their bathroom, his eyes bulging as he watched them. Once the door closed, Mia and Lana both broke into unending giggles.
