Ari'elle woke the next morning to an empty tent. She snuggled down onto the pallet, breathing in Commander Cullen's heady scent. A secret smile brushed her lips. No, not Commander Cullen. He had given her permission to call him Cullen. He was starting to trust her. He had come out in the rain specifically searching for her. That meant something, right? That he was actually starting to like her?
Sounds of voices and noises as people started to break camp intruded into her little bubble. She sighed and sat up, knowing she needed to start moving. She had stayed awake late into the night, fascinated with the rain, but chilled by it. When Cullen had appeared from the dark, she had been startled by his care. She knew it wasn't anything out of the ordinary with him, his concern. She saw how he behaved with his men and his friendships with all those around him. He was just a good man.
She looked about the tent, debating what she should do for clothing. His too large shirt slipped from her shoulder again, and she pushed it back into place with a shrug. She supposed her pack was still in the cart under the tarp. She swung her feet out from the blanket, and started to strip his socks, but she saw her things sitting carefully at the foot of the cot.
Ari'elle blinked. He must have brought it in for her, aware that she would want to change. She was touched at his thoughtfulness, surprised it had even occurred to him. She would have to thank him.
In short time she pulled out new clothes and changed, her now dry leathers pulled over her clothing. She hesitated for a moment with the things Cullen had let her borrow. Should she put them back in his trunk? Hold onto them until she could wash them? They hadn't come across any rivers of large enough size recently, but they were heading towards the mountains. There would be more water that way. But he tore up one shirt for her last night, he may need the extra clothing. She carefully folded the items and placed them on his bedroll, hoping that was the best idea.
Strapping on her bow and quiver, Ari'elle swung her pack up onto her back and pushed from the tent. In the bright morning sun, the sky looked as if there had never been a storm, cloudless and vivid blue. The ground showed some signs, little patches of mud that were not quite dry yet. And the air felt cooler and cleaner, the rain tamping everything down. She noted with some embarrassment that most of the camp was tucked away, already packed. She was holding things up. They must have known that she had slept in Cullen's tent last night and had not wanted to disturb her. More things she had to thank him for.
"Damn, Ari. Was hoping I would get to wake ya. Got permission and everything." Sera grumbled behind her. "Inquisitor Metal Breeches made me promise to wait. Said you were to sleep in, that you might have got sick." Sera tilted her messy blonde head and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Didn't think you elfy ones got sick."
Ari'elle chuckled. "Of course we get sick. I just did not know staying in the rain could do that." The two fell into step, heading for the almost completely packed wagon. "Commander Cullen made sure I was alright."
Sera crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "He wouldn't let me pour porridge on you. Would have been an amazing wake up call. Plus, then you coulda just started eating." Ari'elle laughed aloud, easily picturing her friend doing that. Sera's lips twitched, "Breakfast in bed. I'm so considerate."
"I would like to see you do that to the Inquisitor's bedroll. Something tells me he would have something to say about that!"
Sera perked up, twisting her head to stare at Ari'elle. "His bedroll? You slept in his bed?" Her tone was fascinated and there was a touch of something in her words, a tone she couldn't place.
Ari'elle frowned at Sera. "Yes. He insisted on sleeping on the ground." She shook her head, "Silly human that he is. He should know I have slept on lots worse than the floor of a tent."
Sera stopped, pouting again. "You mean… you didn't sleep together?"
Ari'elle frowned this time. "No. We shared his tent." Sera's pout became more exaggerated, more disappointed. "Why? What am I missing?"
Sera flicked her gaze around and dropped her eyes. "Hoped you two did it. He's so tight you could use him for a blank." At Ari'elle's blank look, she elaborated. "Ya know, jumped each other. Got slippery. Knocked your goodies together." She rolled her eyes. "Sex, Ari. I'm talking bout sex."
Ari'elle blinked at Sera's blunt words. Then a sudden crash of pink exploded over her face. Sex with Cullen. Visions from the night she had saved him rose before her, of his shirt clinging wetly to his muscled chest, of his leather clad ass, of his tousled curls and big body. The Idea of being pressed against that golden skin, kissing those sensual lips, running her fingers through his golden curls. Moisture diverted from her mouth, and she shifted as she could feel herself grow damp between her legs. Unbidden fantasies played through her mind, before she vigorously shook her head and sent her hair flying. "No. He would never." Not with her.
Sera took in the color on her cheeks and how flustered she was. Her friend looked… excited by the prospect. Not good. It looked like Ari was developing a serious case of the infatuations. And the Inquisitor would be far out of her reach. Humans didn't stay with elves, especially not important humans and Dalish elves. Hoity-toits might dabble, but as soon as something serious started to build they lied and left you. If she continued on this path, Ari was going to get her heart broken.
Sera cleared her throat, throwing an arm over Ari's shoulder and pushing her quickly towards the cart. "Come on sleepyhead. You're holding everyone up. At this rate, Skyhold will be a crumbling stone heap when we get there."
Varric caught up to Cullen during the bustle of departure, overlooked in the mess. Varric jerked his head to the side, away from the crowd, indicating he wanted a private word. With a frown, Cullen followed the dwarf, stepping away from Imperial and going a distance away. "What is it Varric?"
Varric turned and regarded him with an unusually serious air. "You need to be more careful, Curly."
Cullen started in confusion, "What? What are you talking about?"
"Red. Ari'elle. Everyone knows she spent the night in your tent last night." Cullen felt a fierce anger rise in his chest, and open his mouth to protest, but he was cut off by Varric. "Now, we all know nothing happened. You are too honorable a man and she is too unschooled to guard her reactions. But if you keep it up, there is bound to be talk. And that is something she doesn't need just starting out."
Cullen felt his anger fade, the logic of Varric's words penetrating the haze. He was right. She would be lauded as their savior, a Dalish Elf. There would be some resentment to that. Despite the equality he was trying to foster in his army, change would not happen overnight. There were many who hated or feared the Dalish, and the fact that most would have never seen her ability worked against Ari'elle. There may be some that would feel anger, maybe even become malicious. The support of this group would do much, but not everything. Add to it rumors of their… interactions, and she would be mistrusted and looked down on.
Cullen heaved a heavy sigh, scrubbing a hand across his neck and staring up at the sky. Maker, things had just gotten more complicated. How was he to treat her with kindness and friendship but not step over that line? This was the type of thing he hated. If he were just the Commander, people wouldn't care nearly as much. But because he was Inquisitor… Especially if Josephine and Leliana still stuck to their ideas for him.
"Thank you Varric. I will consider this carefully." The dwarf nodded in approval, and they turned to slowly walk back.
"Why didn't you just stick her in Sera's tent?" Varric peered up at him, as curious as Ari'elle was.
Cullen sighed. "I didn't even think about that. She was soaked through to the bone and shivering. The only thing I thought about was making sure she didn't get sick."
Varric nodded his head slowly. "You're a good man, Cullen. I will give you that." He walked off, leaving Cullen alone.
A good man? Vividly detailed memories bombarded him of how Ari'elle looked in his loose clothing and how she had arched enough to reveal her dusky nipples through the fabric of his shirt. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to push away the images. No, he wasn't as good of a man as he should be.
He lingered for as long as possible before approaching where Ari'elle stood petting Imperial's nose. He pasted a smile on his face as he approached, doing his best to act normal. "Good morning Ari'elle. I trust you are not feeling ill?"
She smiled up at him, peeking through her dark lashes, a bright blush rising in her cheeks. "I am fine. Not sick at all."
Cullen's stomach dropped at her blush. Maker, did she know? No, he mentally shook himself. She couldn't. He had given absolutely no indication that anything had happened yesterday. He was fine. He kept the expression on his face as he readied Imperial. "Good. All set?" She nodded her head, and he mounted quickly, offering his hand like he usually did.
She took it with no hesitation. See, he told himself. She was probably just embarrassed about needing his help in the first place.
For him, though, how he thought of her had changed once more. Her hand burned through his glove, delicate and warm. He felt her too keenly, how she adjusted herself on Imperials back, far too aware of her hands slipping around his body. He cleared his throat, quickly kicking off to lead. As they picked up speed she pulled herself closer into his body, her hips snug against his, her thighs alongside. Her head rested against the fur of his collar, a disturbingly enjoyable weight.
Cullen focused on his surroundings, thought of distracting things. Two days before they reached the mountain path. A day and a half till Skyhold. At least thirty rifts had been located. Five villages requesting help. All the paperwork that would be waiting for him and the hours of meetings he would need to set up.
If he took some Lyrium, things would be easier, that small voice in the back of his mind whispered. The hum of magic would distract him from his bodily desires, his attention focused on the way it would roll through his veins and the tasks before him. The unwelcome want made a gnawing hunger in his stomach open, head start pounding when he thought of the light blue liquid. Anger pushed away any of his desire. Maker he hated this. Hated the constant itch, the feeling that he was physically missing something. How he felt his body ache and creak without it.
They spent hours riding, the countryside becoming hillier, trees starting to grow, vegetation filling in. They could see a village in the distance, one the Inquisition had helped in the past, but they would not be stopping. It was too important to get Ari'elle and himself back to Skyhold. Behind him Ari'elle was fascinated with the mountains, and he answered her questions as best he could, please to have the distraction and that she seemed unaffected by their night together.
"Something is wrong." Ari'elle suddenly tensed, her voice low and concerned. Startled, Cullen slowed Imperial, bringing him out of his gallop and down to a trot. "Voices. There are hushed voices just ahead. And a strange tingle in the air." Cullen pulled to a stop, looking at the layout. Vegetation grew close to the path as it cut into a rocky side, cliff overhead. Perfect for an ambush.
Cullen instantly went on the alert, pulling Imperial around, and drawing his sword. He saw Cassandra tense as well, and she prepared herself, knowing without having to be told. The men followed suite, unsure what was happening but knowing enough to follow their lead.
A screaming cry broke from behind him, and he spun, preparing for the assault. The enemy had realized they had been discovered, and they had broken from their hiding places. Red Templars rushed from the bushes, bodies twisted and grotesque with the red lyrium growing from them. Archers and mages stepped up to the rocky ledge above them, raining down destruction.
With a cry, Cullen dashed Imperial forward, the war horse trained for these combat situations. They fought together, Imperial kicking out with his hooves, biting at exposed flesh while Cullen dropped the reigns and gathered up his shield. Behind him he could hear fighting occurring along the line, other Red Templars pushing from the dense brush in front of him, pushing through to reach those behind.
Cullen fought single mindedly, until he realized he didn't see Ari'elle's arms around his waist anymore, didn't feel her body pressed to his. Pure panic rose up in him, only his reflexes saving him from a nasty blow. He twisted, looking to find where she must have fallen. Was she hurt? Had something gotten to her? An arrow or a bolt of magic?
However, he saw Ari'elle still sat behind him, just scooted back on Imperial to give herself some room. With concentration on her face, she pulled her bow back, arching her body backwards to send an arrow shooting up at the ledge above him. He heard a cry, and jerked his gaze up in time to see a body fall from the edge, already littered with several of her arrows.
A fierce pride welled up in him, and he turned back to the twisted enemy before him. The woman could take care of herself. She knew enough about riding to keep herself steady as Imperial moved, and in turn Imperial knew she was there and took care to keep her on.
The fight ended quickly, the collection of their two contingencies more than the Red Templar's number. If they had only had one, however, the fight would have been a lot closer, and more deadly for them. Cullen commanded them to move on, despite their injuries. Although there were some that needed some healing, this area was impractical for their needs and too unsafe already.
They pushed on till they found a spot all agreed on, and set up camp. He helped Ari'elle down from Imperial's back, frowning as she whispered her thanks, not looking him in the eye. She rushed away, over to help Sera where the other elven archer cursed, a cut on her leg. Cullen watched Ari'elle, concerned with how she was behaving. She wasn't hurt, at least as far as he could tell. But she was pale. Her forest upbringing made her pale to begin with, but this was different. A pallor beneath her skin, lending a sickly air to her. Something was wrong.
He almost went to her to make her talk to him, but he caught sight of one of the soldier, leaning listlessly to the sigh. He vaulted quickly from Imperial, racing to catch the man as he started to slide sideways. Carefully, Cullen moved him to a safe spot, laying him out so Dorian could tend to his injuries.
The next few hours were a blur, setting up a full camp to tend to their wounded. There were three serious injuries along with a dozen or so smaller ones. Ari'elle stayed with Sera, tending to the cut, bandaging it up and then cajoling the grumpy girl. Her levity was forced, he thought, her gaze kept darting to the injured men and back the way they had come, blanching even more.
Cullen commanded a tent be set up for Ari'elle, unwilling to even think of her sleeping outside the camp. It was put up next to his, he noticed. He clenched his teeth, wondering what they meant by that. Was it just common curtesy, the Quartermaster placing the woman who held the Anchor in an important place? Or was it because they thought Cullen had an interest in her?
Night had descended for some time before he allowed himself to rest, scarfing down a quick hot meal before heading to bed. The men were stabilized, a combination of medicine and the mage's magic working to help heal their wounds. With a weary sigh Cullen walked to his tent, briefly looking at Ari'elle's. She had gone in some time ago, after Sera had retired. But she hadn't come out to eat, and she hadn't lit a candle inside. He pushed aside his concern. She was an elf. Maybe she didn't need a candle.
He entered his tent, gratefully shedding his armor. The fight had tensed some muscles, and he worked through them, rolling his shoulders and arms. He glanced at his desk, then sighed and sat down. He needed to write a report on what had happened. He could do it in the morning, he supposed, but he might as well do it now.
Cullen pretended that he wasn't listening for Ari'elle, for some sign of her. But after finishing his report, there was still no sound. No rustle of cloth or clatter of weapon, shuffle of feet. He sat back in his chair, debating what to do.
Finally, Cullen blew out his candle, then snuck from the back of his tent. It was late, everyone exhausted. The only people who should be awake were the watch, and he hid, avoiding their posts. He stealthily crept to the tent next to his, feeling guilty as he opened the back flap, peering inside.
Empty. She wasn't there. Cullen's heart jumped, and he looked around wildly. She was outside again, somewhere beyond the safety of the camp. He turned and made his way in the dark. She must have slipped out the back of her tent. There was no other way she could have escaped unnoticed. He clenched his teeth together. He was going to shake her one of these days. They were obviously being targeted, and yet she still snuck off alone.
With as much speed and as quietly as he could, Cullen worked his way outwards. He pushed through some bushes before a small moonlight clearing opened up. A dark figure huddled in the very center, moonlight burnishing her dark tumble of curls. Cullen let out a relived sigh, his heart rate slowing at her figure.
Something was off, he frowned, looking closer. She wasn't looking up to the sky, he realized. Instead her head was down, buried into her arms. He approached her slowly, calling out to her quietly. "Ari'elle? Is something the matter?"
Her body tensed, but she didn't lift her head to look at him, didn't turn to smile as she always did. She shook her head, forehead still resting on her arm, her curls tumbling around her body. He slipped to one knee beside her, speaking soothingly. "Obviously something's wrong. What is it? You can tell me."
After a hesitation she lifted her head, still not looking at him. "They were human and… and I killed one." A shudder racked her body, her voice wobbling. "I killed someone. His face… I cannot…" Silvery streaks started to roll down her cheeks, the moon highlighting her tears. Her shoulders lifted into a sob, and she seemed to shrink before his eyes, body pulling into herself as she grieved.
Cullen's chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat at her pain. Without thought he pulled her into his arms, settling down and drawing her into his lap. "Shhh, sweet girl, shhh." She cried out harder, curling into him, burying her face into his neck and wrapping her arms around his waist. He could feel her hands twist into his shirt on his back, her sobs wetting his chest as she pushed closer to his body. "Shhh, Ari. It's alright."
He rubbed one hand on her back in firm circles, a constant stream of words falling from his lips. He didn't know what he said, only that he tried to ease her. Her tears hurt him; twisting his gut and hollowing his chest with each sob. He hated that she had to go through this. A bit of her innocence had been taken from her today, and his heart ached for the loss. Ached to give her back that purity. Ached because her future would only hold more of the heartbreak she was going through now. He should never have agreed to let her join.
He pressed his lips to her hair, gently rocking her back and forth as he murmured to her softly. "It will be alright, Ari. You will be okay. I'm here."