29: Heroes (Part V)

"Love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real."
― Iris Murdoch


"Do you know one of the reasons the Qun doesn't encourage long-lasting pairings?" Bull mused, tearing off another segment of fruit and popping it on his tongue.

Cullen chewed silently.

"Because it was clear early on that there are only so many allegiances one can pledge at once in life. Love—be it for a child, parent, spouse…a beloved— is serious competition." He furrowed his brow pensively. "But it makes everything more real…more worthwhile, doesn't it? To pick up our weapons in the defense of a loved one rather than some abstract notion of duty. Even the Qun can't ignore this, which is why it doesn't outlaw such relationships outrightly."

He stared down at the peels resting in his lap.

"People are… reeducated… for much less." He looked up again and smirked. "Some things I miss," he admitted. "Others, not so much…But…The Qun knows that for the ones we love, we are capable of making brash decisions…and also… the most noble sacrifices." He paused and smirked, shaking his head. "And yet… why is all that stuff easier to do than to make up after a dumb fight?" he wondered.

"I tried. Several times." Cullen warned him, unwilling to pursue the topic further.

They remained in silence, savoring the remainder of their fruit, observing the lamplighters move across the courtyard purposefully with their poles— a lit wick shimmering on one end, a hook to extinguish the flames on the other.

"Mages…All that power…Yet, you'd never guess, would you?" Bull marveled, turning to him.

Cullen peered up curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't," he emphasized.

"How mages are so sensitive…Their receptiveness to the Fade seems to make them responsive to the smallest things…In every way," Bull said suggestively.

Cullen's face turned vermillion as the memory flashed before his eyes: a fleeting caress over her skin, her breath hitching and her eyes inviting him, contemplating him with heady desire. She unfurled, blossomed like a flower at his touch…

Bull burst out laughing.

"See? You know exactly what I am talking about, Commander!"

Cullen glanced away self consciously.

Certain things are sacred. Private.

He'd protect that. Her.

Maker, he lamented, missing her something terrible.

"Do you know what I used to find absolutely puzzling?" Bull continued, despite Cullen's reticence to answer. "Dorian. Took me a little while to figure him out. Here is this man, witty, intelligent and well-educated, handsome…"

"Yes?" Cullen urged him to complete the thought.

"Strong, muscular…Well endowed—" Bull listed appreciatively.

"I GET IT!" Cullen cried out.

Bull cleared his throat, wiping his massive hands on his pantaloons.

"Mages are very sensitive, deeply feeling individuals. Perhaps they yearn to belong so much and stake a claim among us because a part of them already belongs to the Fade. They strive to please, to win approval," he concluded. "Take Dorian, for instance. He is Tevinter, raised to take pride in his power. Still, he had to hide his true nature, saw that the people who should have offered him unconditional love and support would have changed him at the first opportunity. That shook him to his core. His defiance, his apparent indifference may fool most… but not me. He protects himself from getting hurt, from getting too close or attached precisely when he needs understanding and affection the most. It's a subtle thing, but I finally understood it. You'd think nothing fazed him…And yet…" He snorted, staring ahead pensively. "Mages tend to be insecure."

Cullen paused.

Insecure?

He'd watched Evelyn confront the unthinkable and emerge from the rubble triumphant time and again. He admired her grit, her clear and unwavering sense of justice. He'd watched her ponder complex decisions, agonizing over the morality of her choices. How many times had he seen her demand that Leliana temper her actions? She had rekindled an idealism among them they'd all thought long-lost in the morass of the past. How often had she wandered off on unrelated detours to help those less fortunate? Evelyn could be difficult and stubborn, but she did not shirk her duties, her responsibilities, or doing what she believed was right. She had earned his admiration early on, he realized, through her graciousness, kindness, and generosity at a time when few were willing to extend her the same. How could such a formidable person be insecure?

"I don't know if I agree," Cullen stated. "Evelyn is one of the bravest people I know."

Bull shrugged.

"I'm not questioning her courage or integrity," Bull told him. "But I wonder how all that pressure affects someone who had previously been a very scholarly Circle mage."

Cullen crossed his arms, listening.

"As a noble she enjoyed more freedoms than the average mage…but at the end of the day, she was told, all her life, she had to be confined to a tower because she was dangerous. Her own family surrendered her. Don't you think that does all kinds of things to a person's head?"

Cullen looked up sheepishly.

Hadn't he believed something along those lines until relatively recently?

"Sometimes I think she pushes herself so much because she has something she wants to prove. As if she wanted to show people…their fears are unwarranted. That perhaps, she is worthy, after all," Bull confided.

Cullen didn't know what to say.

"It must be hard to be held in such high regard due to an accident," Bull went on. "Because that's what she thinks, you know. For all the respect she shows the Chantry, she would never believe she was chosen by Andraste...I saw her disappointment as she regained her memories in the Fade. And there is that side of hers. The one that believes she isn't good enough, that buys into the danger and corruption mages are told they represent. She knows very well that the reason many people attach any value to her has to do with something that could have easily befallen any of us had we been there in the same circumstances."

"She's much more than just that mark," Cullen snapped. "Just look at all she's done! The mark was an opportunity, a mere tool. Thedas is a better place with her in it," he said heatedly.

Bull nodded.

"But I wonder how often she tells herself not to mess it all up. This is a unique opportunity: all eyes are on her, watching. The fate of so much at play."

"I think she is handling herself admirably."

Well, except for that morning's tragic meeting, he frowned. And he was just as guilty. Cullen sighed deeply and they sat quietly, watching a group of soldiers wander to the Herald's Rest up ahead. As the tavern door opened, the sounds of laughter and music emanated from within.

"Evelyn loves you, Commander."

"As do I!" he protested, stung by the insinuation that perhaps he didn't.

"And she holds you in very high regard. She is probably afraid, though, that you won't find her worthy. My guess is she is very afraid of losing you."

Cullen turned to him in bewilderment.

"After all, you were far more worldly and experienced than she was when you both met," he explained.

Cullen balked.

"I was a templar! Almost as cloistered away as she was."

"Cullen, you are older and you've enjoyed freedoms she has only experienced superficially. Even now, despite all her power, she is entrapped. She bears a heavy burden…and there is that part of her that feels inadequate, like it has no business standing by your side…She can keep her fears at bay as long as she senses she is doing great deeds…fulfilling her role…proving her worth…But look what happened when you mentioned an innocent crush…on the Hero of Ferelden, no less, someone definitely worthy, in Evelyn's eyes," Bull chuckled. "That brought all the insecurities up."

"So what was I supposed to do? Pretend I have no past? Hide anything that might upset her? Not mention my personal history?" he asked, exasperatedly. "Why am I the one being punished for just…being myself?"

Bull took a deep breath.

"I'm not suggesting anything of the sort. All I am saying is: be aware of it. Understand it. That's all."

Cullen's head reeled in confusion.

"I don't know what to do! I want to make it better, but I don't know how!"

Bull looked at him with an approving expression.

"Tell me something: did you tell her that?"

"What?"

"What you just told me. That you want to make things better, but don't know how."

"Of course not! What a stupid thing to say to someone," Cullen sulked, leaning back into the wall.

"It's the truth. And… it's the only thing that might work."

Cullen scratched the back of his neck doubtfully.

"Trust her. And meet her halfway. Just your willingness to do so would mean a lot to her."

He exhaled loudly.

"You think I should talk to her right now?" he asked suddenly.

Bull hid his amusement.

"I'd wash first. You're rather… sweaty from all that sparring…Unless, of course, she's into that. Some people are. Gives them a real rush—"

"Hitting the baths! Thank you, Bull!" Cullen quickly interrupted, hurriedly making his way to the stairwell.

Bull watched as the Commander disappeared into the doorway down the courtyard and swept the peels off his lap.

"There you are," he heard a voice call out behind him.

He turned his head around to find Dorian bounding down the steps from the Main Hall. He could tell from the mage's gait that he was in a foul, foul mood.

"How was the meeting?"

"A blithering bore," Dorian sneered. "I don't know why I bother. Why can't anyone see that it is better to allocate the funds to import fewer, but more valuable titles, than just fill up the shelves with useless nonsense!"

"You'll be the only one reading those valuable titles, you know," Bull grinned sympathetically as the mage approached him.

"I can't help it! I actually like to fill my head with useful knowledge and information, not just the scandalous serial of the moment." He flicked a bit of fruit rind off Bull's belt after staring at it indignantly.

"Is that a jab at Varric?"

"At him, at our Head Librarian, at our Seeker…Et tu, Cassandra!" he cried out, pointing accusingly at the shadowy figure wandering towards the tavern.

"Oh, give it a rest, Dorian. They'll order some of the books you requested, but people need their entertainment," Cassandra declared unapologetically. She held the door open as she slipped inside. "Are you coming?"

"We'll be right in," he told her.

He glanced back at Bull after the door shut.

"I'm not staying long. I'm hardly good company tonight. Just one beer. I also think I did something to my shoulder," he complained, rotating it as he flashed a pained grimace. "It's that staff…I need to have it weighted properly—it's wearing down in places and out of alignment now. It's doing a number on me," he complained irritably.

"I'll take off with you when you're ready," Bull said appeasingly. "And I'll take a look at that shoulder, too."

He saw the mage's tense expression ease.

"I'd like that," he admitted.

Bull leaned in slightly and sniffed.

"You smell nice."

"You noticed?" Dorian asked, pleasantly surprised.

"You? Always," Bull raised an eyebrow charmingly.

The mage finally smiled.

"All right… I think I might have two beers, then," Dorian decided, as he opened the door for them.


Cullen rifled through his armoire. All through his bath he'd felt compelled to hurry, his impatience growing, eager to reach Evelyn soon. He pat his hands over his cheeks, glad he had shaved even if the sentries guarding her door were forced to turn him away. The thought gave him pause.

What if she doesn't want to see me?

He shook his head. He had to try.

He swiftly slid down the ladder to his office, his feet hitting the ground with a loud thud, and gripped the doorknob firmly. As he flung the door open, he found himself facing none other than Evelyn, her hand raised in a fist, aimed at the door.

"Evelyn!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"Should I not have come?" she asked nervously. "Were you on your way somewhere?"

"Come in," he extended his arm towards his office. "This bodes well," he said, pleased. "I was on my way to see you."

"Oh?" she said, surprise registering in her eyes. "Well, then. That's…Yes, that bodes well, indeed."

She didn't enter the room, however.

"Do you have a moment then?" she tilted her head towards the ramparts. "For us to talk?"