23th August - 28th August
The inn's common room was quiet, the only occupants Mia and Cullen, the only sounds the crackle of the fire and the scratch of Mia's quill.
Dear Killeen,
My brother being the worst letter writer in all Thedas, I thought I should take it on myself to let you know he is well, and safe, and missing you —
Mia paused, pen above the parchment. The first was true, the second certainly true for the moment — the third she guessed to be true, Cullen currently limiting himself to terse remarks about the weather, their route, the progress of their journey.
She sighed, dipped her quill, and continued, becoming even more economical with the truth.
— although somewhat distracted by some news which came to Skyhold after you left. News arrived that a girl, Felandaris, who I understand you know, had run away from home, most probably to Skyhold to visit Cullen and yourself. The roads being still occasionally dangerous, Cullen thought it best to travel to meet her along the way, which is what we are doing, as it is partly along the same route as my journey home. For safety, we are accompanied by a number of soldiers, you no doubt know them all, they are called The Chargers and commanded by the large Qunari gentleman named Iron Bull. A mage, Ser Dorian Pavus, also accompanies us, so you can see we are well protected. Lady Leliana has promised that any letter you write will be forwarded to Cullen promptly, and I promise that as soon as we find this girl safe and well I will send you word.
Mia paused again. There was still room at the bottom of the parchment. Normally, she would have filled it with news of the household, but normally, she would have been at home, and writing to her brother. One of the many letters she had sent into what was largely an echoing void, from which occasional scraps of news or hastily penned notes emerged to let her know her brother was, after all, still alive — reassuring, even as the tone of those notes had changed in ways that clutched her heart with fear for him, even if the news was all too often of blood and fire and danger.
But what could she say to this woman, this stranger? What she wanted to write, Make my brother happy, please, I have been so worried about him, I hope you deserve him, I will scratch your eyes out if you mistreat him — none of that could be put down in this letter which was, after all, the first communication between them.
I hope you are well, she wrote at last, and that your family errand concluded satisfactorily. I was very sorry not to have the chance to meet you. Cullen writes rarely, and never at sufficient length, but he has told me enough that I know he is happy, and that you are the cause. I will sign as I hope to be, your friend, Mia.
She folded it. "Cullen, may I have your seal?" she asked, and when he didn't respond but simply kept staring into the flames dancing in the inn's fireplace. "Cullen."
He started, and looked up. "Forgive me. I was … miles away."
"May I have your seal?" she asked again, and he nodded and slipped the ring from his finger. "Would you like to add something, before I close it? There's room." She pushed the parchment across the table to him, offered the quill.
"Thank you," he said, taking both and frowning down at the page.
"Dear Killeen, I am well, I miss you, Cullen," Mia suggested.
"I see you've told her both those things," Cullen said.
"That doesn't mean she wouldn't like to hear them from you," Mia said. A noise from outside — the clash of metal, a raised voice — caught her attention, and she half-rose, listening.
"They're sparring," Cullen said reassuringly. "Nothing to be alarmed about."
Mia sank back slowly. "How can you tell?"
"If you'd heard the Bull fight, you'd not soon mistake the sound for anything else."
"Perhaps I should fetch Stanton in," Mia said.
"Leave him be," Cullen said. He wrote a line beneath her letter, folded the parchment and offered it back. "The Bull won't let harm come to him, and he might learn something."
"That's what I'm afraid of." Mia resisted the temptation to read what he'd written, dropped wax on the parchment and pressed his seal to it. "He's just a boy, Cullen."
"Only a little younger than I was when I left for the Templars," Cullen pointed out.
Mia snorted. "And look how that turned out."
He smiled at her. "If I hadn't joined the Templars, I would never have gone to Kirkwall," he said. "And if I had never gone to Kirkwall, I would never have met Killeen. So all in all, I think it turned out rather well, in the end."
"You really do love her, don't you?" Mia asked softly.
Cullen coloured a little, and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. Oh, Mia thought with a stab of tenderness, you still do that. "I do. She — I hope to deserve her."
"I hope she deserves you," Mia said.
He smiled slightly. "She deserves far better than me, but fortunately she doesn't seem to mind."
The door opened, and the room was suddenly full of the Chargers, any one of whom seemed to take up twice as much room as normal people and their Captain Iron Bull twice as much again. Mia tucked her feet under her chair to keep them out of the way of trampling boots, and gave Stanton a quick look over to make sure he was unharmed.
No bruises, no torn clothing. In fact, he looked very well, eyes bright, face glowing, looked very much as Cullen had used to when …
Her heart sank. When he'd been spending time with the Templars.
Not my son! she cried out silently. Andraste, is it not enough that I have spent these long years fearing and fretting for my dear brother? Must I now spend more years knowing my darling boy is in danger?
She beckoned Stanton over and drew him down to sit beside her on the bench, smoothing his hair. He squirmed a little, blushing — embarrassed by her, when so recently he would have cuddled up to his mother, content in her arms.
Mia forced herself to let him go. "Was it fun?" she asked.
"It's not fun," Stanton said. "It's work."
The massive shape of the Iron Bull loomed above them, a huge hand enveloping Stanton's shoulder for a moment. "Boy's got potential," the Qunari rumbled. "He'll make a decent fighter, once he grows into his ears."
Stanton beamed, and then Mia all but saw him remember he was nearly a man, and should assume a man's dignity. "Thank you," he said casually.
Mia took a deep breath. "When —" when he's older. Forty sounds a good age. "When we can spare him from home," she said instead, "will be time to talk of that." Stanton's shoulders slumped a little. "But in the meantime, it's as well for him to learn what he can, and I thank you for it, Captain Iron Bull." Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and she blinked hard. "I think I shall retire for the night. Excuse me."
Stanton and Cullen both rose their feet as she stood, both her beautiful, well-mannered boys.
Mia turned away quickly before the tears could fall and left the room.
Suddenly, the warmth of the inn was oppressive instead of welcome. Instead of going up to her room as she'd planned, she made her way along the corridor to the door that led out into the inn's kitchen garden. The neat rows of plants, the harvested beds covered ready for the frost, were so familiar and homely that she couldn't keep from sniffling.
Behind her, the door opened and closed, and Cullen's voice said, "Mia?"
"I wanted some air," she said.
Footsteps, and then a cloak settled around her shoulders, warm from his body-heat. "Me too," he said softly, hands on her shoulders.
Don't take him away from me! she wanted to cry. Don't steal him into your world of blood and steel and fire! Let him stay with me, safe, and live a life that has kitchen gardens and hay-making and harvest season …
But Cullen could no more help Stanton being drawn to the excitement and the glamour of his life than the local Knight-Commander had been able to deter Cullen himself.
"Take care of him," she said instead. "Please, Cullen. Promise me you'll keep him as safe as you can, when the time comes."
"Of course," he said.
She turned. "There's no of course," she said crossly. "When you have children, you'll understand."
Cullen winced a little. "I promise," he said.
"I hope you have sons and they all go away to play at soldiers and then you'll finally know what you put Mother and Father through," Mia said. "And me. And all of us."
"None of it was a game, Mia," Cullen said, a slight edge to his voice.
"Not that I'd know, from what little you wrote," Mia pointed out, an edge to her own.
He sighed. "I wished to spare you the worst."
"And now?"
"Now I still wish to spare you," Cullen said. "Mia. Let's not argue over the past. Please. There were difficult times, but they are over. I joined the Templars because I could think of nothing finer than to protect the innocent, and I comfort myself with the knowledge that I have done so, that I still do so. If Stanton feels the same, that is to his credit."
"You joined the Templars to get a shiny sword and nice armour," Mia sniffed, and Cullen chuckled.
"That too. I was thirteen." He paused. "Send Stanton to me when it's time. I promise he will spend so much time cleaning latrines and shovelling out the stables that if glamour and fine equipment is all he wants, he'll be home with you again in six months."
"I will hold you to that," Mia said. "And I'll expect you to keep him away from bad company. And be a good example to him. And make sure he eats properly, and washes at least once a week, including behind his ears, and —"
"Mia," Cullen said, laughing. "He's all but a man now."
"Oh, Cullen." She slipped his cloak from her shoulders and offered it back. "When you have your own, you'll understand — no matter how old they get, they'll always be the baby you held in your arms." She turned toward the door, paused when he didn't move. "Are you coming in?"
"In a moment," Cullen said. "You go on. We have an early start tomorrow."
She left him there, and went up to her room, listening to hear him following her as she prepared for bed.
Fell asleep without hearing his footfall on the stairs.