Chapter 10: Ardor

"Come on," Dederick barks out a laugh, "Now you're just ticklin' me!"

He cocks his head to the side, watching the growing faces of frustration on the young apprentice's practicing their spells in an attempt to break his barrier. The idea had hit him when the first of the rebel mages started to arrive at Haven in numbers – if he's going to practice magic, he might as well let some others join him. He'd cleared out a spot for them to train it, but as fun as it might be to watch the poor lads and gals working together, it isn't as much of a challenge as he'd hoped. Won't learn much if he isn't pushed to his limit.

"Hold up!" He calls out. Once the spells stop flinging, he brings his hand down and the spherical barrier dissipates. "I can't tell if you're all tryin' or not." Some of the apprentices shared apprehensive looks and that answers his question for him. Oh, come now. This is meant to be practice. Don't be worried about hurtin' me. Pretend I'm Magister Alexius if you have to, but I don't want you holdin' back. Got it?"

They'd gathered a bit of an audience since they started, mostly a few curious townsfolk wanting to see what exactly it was that their Herald was up to. Anything for a bit of excitement in these dreary days, he figures. Most soldiers remained sparring, but some took a break to watch from the distance. The Inquisition's forces had many volunteers, and most were just simple commoners who'd only heard terrifying things of magic. Even Bull and his Chargers were watching.

One mage who'd been keeping his distance from the commotion stepped closer, his red hair drawing Dederick's eyes, "Do you mind if I join in?"

Dederick flashes him a toothy grin before nodding, "The more the merrier."

Instinctively, he rolls up the sleeves of his tunic, bracing himself for what he's hoping to be a challenge. He breathes, in and out slowly. One. Two. Three. Magic swirls around his hands as he stretches them both out in front of him and a barrier encompasses him and Maker if he isn't glad he put his all into it. The volley of spells bombarding him managed to drive him back a few inches, something that manages to draw a few surprised gasps from the crowd. The mages were starting to get creative, working together to try maximize the impacts of their spells and the strain on his muscles only makes him more determined. This is training.

"That's more like it!" He yells with a laugh. They keep at it for a while, the mages giving it their all and Dederick being as stubborn as a druffalo and not giving an inch, until his barrier starts to flicker.

"It's working!" cries out the pretty blonde mage, starting to look a little ragged.

"Keep at it!" calls out another.

Dederick can't help but smirk. He can feel the impact of their spells better now. They're more in sync, trying to find the weak spots. Good. He'd bring a hand up to wipe the sweat that's starting to drip down his hairline, but his barrier would probably give then and there if he did that. Instead, he clamps his eyes shuts and tries to will the front half of barrier stronger and letting the back wane just enough to try and keep the barrier up a little longer… Just a little longer. He just has to hold out long enough for them to run out of mana before he does.

"I've got this!" Dederick opens his eyes just in time to see the redheaded mage who'd joined last casting a spell unlike not quite fire, lightning, or frost… It takes him a few seconds to realize he's molding a fist out of stone.

"You've got to be kiddin' me" is all Dederick manages to mutter before the mass of stone smashes right into his barrier at a speed he couldn't even brace himself for. His barrier shatters like a glass bauble just as the impact sends him flying backwards a few feet right onto his ass.

"Did you see that? I did that!" The redheaded mage is practically bouncing on his feet, beaming at the other mages. The others just stare at him and then at Dederick as if unsure of how to react.

That was… fun. Dederick blinks a few times before bursting out laughing, tossing himself backwards to lie on the dirt. Maker, if that wasn't intense. His ass hurts though, and that only makes him laugh a little harder before he finally stops and sits up, tugging off his headband in the process and pinning it under his belt. A soldier was approaching to lend him a hand up, but Dederick waves him off before propping himself up. "That was good!" He dusts himself off before approaching the redhead, "What's your name?"

The mage beams at him, oozing confidence. "Rion, ser."

"Well, Rion," He pats the mage on the shoulder, "I owe Varric some coin now 'cause of you." He laughs before pulling his hand back and running it through the wavy locks of his now-loose hair. "I've got to admit, I wasn't expectin' that spell of yours. If you've got more like that up your sleeve, I'm sure we can find somethin' for you to do rather than just sit on the sidelines."

Rion perks up, "What, really?"

"Aye, but that's for another day. Go celebrate. If you wind up at the tavern, tell Flissa I sent you. That should cover you for the night."

Rion turns to the others and saunters over to them with a bounce in his step that almost makes Dederick roll his eyes, but he's glad. That's one potential agent for the Inquisition he just found. He'd need to mark his name down in a report for his advisors to mull over. He shakes his head lightly as he starts making his way to the Varric's usual haunt in Haven. This is what he gets for making a bet with Varric: a tender ass, and losing a few coins.

Varric's got a knowing smirk when he reaches him, "So, what's the verdict?"

"Don't play coy." He laughs before pulling out the coins he owes Varric from his pouch and handing them over to the dwarf. "Here."

"What, no story?"

"Maybe later," Dederick waves a hand before turning to head toward the Singing Maiden. "Though I'm sure you'll know more about it than I do by then."

"Is that a bet?" Varric calls out after him, making a point of clinking the coins he got together.

Dederick's only response is a huff before he wanders over to the tavern and steps into the familiar warmth of the stead. With the sun not quite setting yet, the place was empty save for Sera and a few other stragglers. Sera waggles her brows at him before going back to… whatever it is that Sera does when she's on her own. He sidles up to the bar counter where Flissa's sweeping it off with a rag.

"Flissa," The poor girl nearly startles at his voice, "Do you think I might be able to order something… off the menu?"

"My lord…" The barmaid flushes and it's only when he hears Sera's giggling behind him that he realizes how it might sound.

"Maker – that's not what I meant! I was referrin' to food, Flissa. Food."

"Oh." Flissa clears hers throats, "I suppose that depends, my lord. What were you looking to get?"

"Candied yams."

"Candied yams?"

"Candied yams." Dederick repeats, "I have a cravin'."

Flissa nods at him without any questions and scurries off to presumably notify the cook. Dederick can't help but shake his head at the realization that he probably just got his way due to his title. It's not something he's usually comfortable with, but he decided to make the exception just this one. He joins Sera at her table and idly chats with her about her friends and organization before the tavern starts to fill. The sun must be setting. A half hour or so later, and he's stepping out of the tavern with a small basket of the snack in tow.

It takes him a little while longer to make his way to the outside of the Commander's tent. He'd bumped into Rion and a few of his friends on his way out of the tavern and he got caught up. He clears his throat loudly to announce himself, "Are you decent, Commander?"

"What?" comes the confused response from inside, "Why wouldn't I be? Come in."

Dederick pries the flap open and steps inside. Cullen's leaning over the desk centered near the entrance of the large tent reading through, brows furrowed and his lips pursed in thought. Dederick snorts slightly at the sight, "Well, I figured maybe our dear Commander would be changin' out of his armor like most normal folk do once the day's done."

Cullen rolls his eyes before looking up with a smile, "I heard you put on quite the show today."

"Really now?" Dederick asks, playing ignorant, "What did you hear?" Cullen's eyes glint slightly with humor and Dederick makes an embarrassed noise, "On second thought, don't tell me. I brought you something."

"Oh?" Cullen's eyes trail over to the basket he's got in his hand.

"Aye." He drops the basket right on top of all the papers and documents on the commander's desk with a satisfied look on his face. "Candied yams."

"Candied yams?"

"Makers breath, aye, candied yams." He pulls the lid off the basket before plopping one of them into his mouth gladly. "Tasty little things." Cullen's giving him a look, one that he can't quite make out. Dederick points at the snack with his chin, "Well, go on then, give them a try."

"What's this for?" Cullen asks almost innocently before gingerly picking one up and taking a bite. Dederick can't help but grin when the commander seems to enjoy the taste.

He shrugs his shoulders. "As thanks, I suppose."

"Whatever for?"

"Don't give me that." Had he been closer, he would've smacked the other man's arm. "You're tellin' me you had nothin' to do with my door being fixed by the time I woke up?" Dederick flashes Cullen a curious look. "I hope you weren't too rough on the poor sod that got stuck doin' that."

"Oh. I – Well…" Cullen sputters out embarrassed. It's endearingly cute, he realizes.

Dederick shakes his head, amused, "It's alright, Cullen. Thank you."

Cullen composes himself and smiles, his cheeks turning a shade crimson. "You're welcome."

"Now how about we go for a meal at the tavern with the others? You might enjoy drinkin' more without your armor though."

The commander glances down at his armor, pensive for a moment before he starts to pull off his fur mantle. The action catches Dederick off guard – the last thing he'd been expecting was for Cullen to actually listen to him. He cocks his head when he manages to see Cullen's armor without all the cloth over it – it looked sturdy and well-made. Cullen's voice snaps his eyes back up, "Could you help me undo the straps?"

It's a simple question. Innocent enough. He'd helped the others guards at Alamar countless times getting in and out of their armor, but this is… Well, it's Cullen. He's the Commander, and he's handsome and he… shouldn't be overthinking it, but the question has a feeling swelling in his chest. Maybe he's reading too much into it, maybe he's not, but he smiles anyways, "Of course." It doesn't take long to help free Cullen from his armor, but he chooses to respect the man's privacy and wait outside while he changed into something decent.

Dederick can't help but stare once Cullen steps out dressed in casual clothing for once. He looks so –

"Is something the matter?" Cullen breaks his line of thoughts, starting to look a little uncomfortable now that he's out of his armor.

"Nothin'." Dederick grins at the other man, "Let's get goin'."