A/N: Cullen and Finley get into a fight thanks to one of her friends, and he has a startling revelation. Angst?

...-...

"I can't believe you!"

Cullen had just sunken into paperwork, trying to rid his mind of the earlier events of the day. He'd barely had time for it to work before his door had swung open and Finley was there, fuming, inner fire fueling those already ethereal eyes of hers.

Bracing himself against his desk, his mouth formed a thin line as he looked up at her. "I have a lot of work to do."

"You can do it later," Finley snapped, striding across the room, not bothering to close the door behind her. Anyone outside would hear their argument. Lovely. "You need to go apologize to Donovan!"

Cullen's eyes widened, and he shot to his feet. "I'm not apologizing to that neurotic—"

He cut himself off at that word as Finley straightened up, indignant.

Trying again, Cullen tried to stay calm. "The elf is crazy. Did you even listen to the things he was telling you? He won't be happy unless you're terrified to even close your eyes around a templar!"

"He's worried I'll get hurt," Finley hissed back. "He's been one of the few constants in my life, and you can't just dismiss him like that!"

"Did you ever consider that without him, you might not be scared of everything?" Cullen snapped back. He stalked around his desk and slammed the door closed when he saw one of his patrols peeking in. They'd scurried off well before he reached the door, but he had no doubt that Skyhold would soon be abuzz with how the Inquisitor and Commander were fighting.

"I'm not scared of everything."

"Aren't you?" Cullen whirled to face her again. She was standing her ground in the middle of his office, as though that alone would somehow prove him wrong. "You're scared of Ser Jensen, Ser Yorric, other templars who have been nothing but loyal to you. If a templar looks your way, you have to fight not to panic!" He ran his fingers through his hair. "You accidentally mention something that might be related to the Wilds and get terrified that you've just…I don't even know. You're so afraid of telling me anything!"

"And that has nothing to do with Donovan!"

"Doesn't it?" As he asked, he stepped closer to her until he was standing in front of her. Maker, he wanted to reach out and shake her. It was no wonder she'd ended up so paranoid, if that elf had really been the one caring for her in the Wilds. Five minutes with him and Cullen had wanted to toss him off the ramparts.

"He's helped me! He saved me from templars on more than one occasion!" Finley insisted. There was hurt in her voice. "Maybe you aren't aware, but templars don't go into the Wilds to bring mages back with them!"

"Yes they do!" Cullen wanted to scream. "I've seen those orders issued! They are always supposed to bring the mage back alive, if possible!"

"Well, they tended to forget those orders whenever they came across me," Finley retorted, taking a step back from him. "The only times templars ever offered to share a fire or acted kind were times when another one was sneaking up behind me to…" She crossed her arms abruptly, glaring toward his desk rather than him. "Donovan's had to patch me up after plenty of templar encounters, and he's not just 'making up stories'."

Cullen hadn't known what to say until that last comment, at which point he felt rage boiling inside of him. That she would use the words he'd said as he'd excused himself from that elf's company… "He told you I was going to stab you!"

"And I told him you weren't," Finley shot back. She shook her head. "I know you're not a templar, but you do still sort of feel like one. Once he understands that you're not, he'll settle down."

"So if I was still a templar…" Cullen started, but stopped himself. It had never occurred to him until that moment just how important that declaration was to Finley. That he'd left the Order behind had been a personal issue, one he'd woken up some nights regretting, and yet…

He didn't understand what it meant to her.

Her arms were still crossed as she appraised him, gaze darting over him, taking him in almost as though she didn't know him.

"You're not a templar," she finally whispered. She nodded, more for herself than for him. That anger flickered back to life in her eyes. "And you're going to apologize to Donovan."