Lady Trevelyan had just returned from the Hinterlands. They'd only just met, but for some reason Cullen couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Ever since he had found her that night in the war room and she had shared so much. He still scolded himself for the accidental touch and lingering over her while she slept. He unwillingly kept finding his gaze drifting when he knew she was near. Something about her was…intriguing. And he was not afraid to admit she had some interesting physical assets. Just because he had been a Templar didn't mean he couldn't appreciate a beautiful woman when he saw one. He wasn't dead…not yet. It been a long time since any woman had caught his attention in such a way. There had been distractions before when he felt the need for release, but this was not the same.
He knew little of Lady Trevelyan before they had spoken in the Chantry. Only that she was nobility from the Free Marches, and had some military experience which could be used to their advantage. Normally he could not stomach interacting with nobility and avoided it like a bad smell, but she had been easy to work with so far. She was not like other nobles he had met, she was much more down to earth. He suspected most would jump at the opportunity to grab at a tiny sliver of fame, but this woman had been very much resistant to her new found title of Herald of Andraste. She had said it was unnerving, and he could certainly sympathize with her.
Thanks to his brilliant idea of drugging the poor woman that night at the Chantry, the Inquisition's plans had been delayed by a day. He had ordered that she not be disturbed until she emerged on her own and she had slept through the following day and into the next morning. He found himself quite embarrassed at their next meeting when she accused him of a failed attempt at poisoning her. He couldn't be sure if she was joking or not, she seemed to be a fan of dry humor and he just had to hope the accusation was an attempt at it. She acted angry, but he could have sworn he heard faint snickering as he left the room. Even if she wasn't serious, he still felt guilty.
For the moment he had to remind himself that there was a very large task before them and his focus needed to be redirected back to the mission. This was a bridge he could not cross no matter how tempting. His time as a Templar had taught him when and how to turn emotional attachment off, he had done it before when another young woman had caught his attention at the Fereldan circle tower. It made things easier, especially when the mage failed her harrowing. The thought of what could have been left a lump in his throat. What if he hadn't been able to strike her down? This would have to be no different. Although he did have to admit things were different this time. He was different this time without the lyrium.
The Herald had managed to bring the Chantry Priest back to Haven as requested. Reports the party brought from the Hinterlands were disturbing. Mages and Templars were openly fighting in the area and were leaving destruction in their wake. The Herald and Lady Cassandra had already spread the Inquisition's influence further than they had thought possible so early in its birth and the area had requested the Inquisition's continued aid. People were already talking about what they had seen Lady Trevelyan do there and they were gaining recruits thanks to her. She had come back requesting the construction of watch towers in the area, which his soldiers would be sent to build. When the area was safe, they would be able to convince the horsemaster there to send his finest steeds to aid the Inquisition.
The last few days had been busy, he found himself finally able to concentrate and much had been accomplished. The task of keeping peace between the mages and Templars that had come to aid the Inquisition had fallen on him. Somehow he had been successful. Other than a brief clash in front of the Chantry, there had been no incidents to cause concern thus far. With that small crisis temporarily quelled, he had been able to set up a place for the men to practice, as well as see to the construction of the towers and prepare the stables for the horses. For now he stood amidst swinging swords overseeing the recruits' swordplay, focusing on their form and scrutinizing their poor excuse for so-called skill. It was time for some tough love to be dealt. "You there! There's a shield in your hand, block with it! If this man were your enemy you'd be dead!" he spat. He turned to his Lieutenant with further instructions when he spotted the Herald off in the distance, heading out of the main gates.
As she walked through the gates leading outside Haven's walls, Laurel had been drawn to the familiar sound of clashing metal. As she drew closer she spotted the Commander in the middle of the make shift sparring grounds. He stood with his hands on his hips and every few seconds he would throw his hands up, spouting corrections. He reminded her a bit of the drill master who had once instructed her at the start of her military career. They looked nothing alike, but the scowl was there and he seemed equally as hot-headed and almost as scary when he was giving commands. Maybe it was a Fereldan thing. Watching him in action made her heart start to beat a little faster and a flush rushed over her skin, something about the sneer and the tone he used, every motion he made seemed strong and controlled. She couldn't be sure if she were slightly intimidated or if she were experiencing something else altogether.
Out of the corner of his eye Cullen saw the Herald approach. He could see her dark hair had become somewhat disheveled, pieces of the braid she wore had come lose. She looked weary. He imagined she had been through much in a very short time and he could envision quite well what it must be like in the midst of all the fighting in the Hinterlands. She seemed to be handling it well despite all of it. He himself knew exactly what it was like to be in the middle of a battlefield between Templars and Mages. He knew none of this had to be easy on her.
She walked up slowly gripping her elbows, watching recruits and stopping beside him. "Remind me never to practice in front of you. You're a little scary," she jested.
He chuckled slightly. "You forget I've seen you on the field," he smirked looking toward her with his arms crossed as he tried to continue to direct his focus to his troops. He noticed in the short walk some flush had returned to her cheeks and her hair was a bit less unkempt. "You could give these recruits a run. Maybe even myself," he offered almost as a challenge.
She raised her eyebrows and one side of her mouth lifted at the thought. "Maybe we'll have to test that out sometime."
"Perhaps we will. That I shall look forward to," he found himself too eager in reply.
"You give me too much credit," she laughed looking at her feet. "I'm certainly not the best, but I do at least know how to work a sword and shield. I used to be proficient with a bow, but I haven't picked that up for quite some time." It had in fact been a very long time since she had touched a bow. She didn't care to think of the memories she associated with shooting, but she would take it up again were it required.
He watched her feet fiddle with the gravel beneath her. "I'm sure you could teach some of the new soldiers a thing or two," Cullen reassured her and a small smile returned to her lips. He was glad he seemed to have broken her from whatever sullen thoughts she pondered while she stared down at her boots. Her head lifted and she looked to him as he continued. "We've received a number of recruits. But none made quite the entrance you did."
She shrugged smugly and the life had returned to her eyes. "At least I got everyone's attention."
"That you did," he smirked.
"What about you Commander? How did you find yourself here among us Chantry outcasts?"
He motioned her forward and they began walking through the camp observing soldiers as they passed. He walked quickly and she tried to match his pace. "I was recruited to the Inquisition in Kirkwall myself. I was there during the mage uprising and saw firsthand the devastation it caused. I would not wish that on my worst enemy."
He slowed and she stopped for a moment to look up at him as another soldier approached, handing the Commander a report he barely glanced at. Her look became distant as she recollected the reports she received that day after the devastation. "I was on a patrol when the Chantry in Kirkwall exploded, we saw it from miles away. We didn't know then how bad things really were or I'm sure they would have sent us to help." She swallowed as she watched her feet in the snow and rock. She had always felt guilty for being unable to help during the attack. "Things weren't as bad when Ostwick's circle finally rebelled, it at least stayed confined to the circle and left most of the city untouched. You left the order when you joined the Inquisition then?"
"Cassandra offered me position so I left the Templars to join her cause. I never thought it could get more dire than what I saw at Kirkwall, but it did. Now it seems we face something far worse," he rasped.
She sighed. "You mean like the conclave destroyed and a giant hole in the sky? Doesn't look very good does it?"
"Which is why we're needed. The Chantry has lost control and now the Inquisition can act where they could not. I know you've been reluctant to embrace your role in this, but our followers would be a part of that call to action and you inspire them. Just think of what we can accomplish. There's so much we can….forgive me," he shook his head at himself. "I doubt you came here for a lecture."
"No," she laughed. "But if you have one prepared I'd love to hear it. Your passion and enthusiasm are…admirable. I think I could learn a thing or two," she said with a nod.
His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he chuckled. "Another time perhaps."
She looked up at him smiling with amusement and it was as if something was suddenly caught in his throat. The way she was looking at him was more than just mere professional admiration and it caught him off guard. Suddenly she felt like an idiot grinning so widely at him and quickly shifted her gaze away. Cullen for a moment forgot was he was saying. "I…ah," he cleared his throat. "There's still a lot of work ahead," was the only thing he could muster as he looked off for anything he could refocus his attention to.
Just then a soldier approached with a report requiring his attention. Work was just what he needed at this moment. He felt like he had been saved. "As I was saying," he looked to her and motioned taking his leave. Her eyes stayed on him as he walked away. She stood trying to catch her breath. She felt like she had completely shamed herself the way she had just looked at him, smiling and batting her eyes like a maiden. And staring after him like a lecher watching his hind quarters as he sauntered away was not helping matters either. Get a grip, Laurel.
She looked around for anything else to focus her eyes toward. On the other side of the sparring area she spotted Cassandra, practicing alone and taking out her frustrations on a dummy. The seeker had the right idea and she thought to join her, but they would both be expected in the war room soon. She didn't want to show up looking worse than she already did or smelling of sweat. They had one last meeting before heading off to Val Royeaux. They were walking right into the viper's pit to throw themselves at the Chantry, hoping they suddenly came to their senses. The decision to venture into enemy territory was not her own and she had made her displeasure at the idea very clear, but it seemed to be their only option. This whole situation had begun to wear on her and there seemed to be no rest in sight. If she left now she would have just enough time to clean herself up and don a new set of clean armor before she would be expected at the counsel, and she supposed she should look her best walking into a place like Val Royeaux. It would cause quite a scandal if the damned Herald of Andraste showed up dirty and in rags.