Summary:
Poor Cullen. Let's see how he handles the aftermath.
Notes:
This Chapter is SAFE for work. Some mild angst, but nothing Cullen can't handle.
All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games
All twisted perversions therein, are all on me ~ You're welcome!
Cocktails & Cheese
Cullen and Alistair - A Modern Day AU
Chapter 29
Secrets and Salvation Part 3
Wednesday Cont.
Cullen stood in the rain, wondering what the hell just happened.
Did Alistair just leave me? What did I do wrong?
He was getting one of his headaches; it'd been a while since he had one.
He tried the door, but it was locked. His keys were still in his coat, currently hanging up inside the bar.
Great! Just fucking great!
Sighing, he walked around to the front of the building. He needed to grab his things and hopefully talk to Lana before heading home.
Maybe she can shed some light on where I went wrong.
Stepping back inside the bar, he paused, noting the few customers scattered around the room. Lana was pouring drinks and Leliana was on stage singing a morose tune that matched his current mood.
Cullen walked up and leaned against the bar.
Hey, Lana - when you get a minute...
She nodded almost imperceptibly tossing him a towel before going back to her current customer.
Cullen wiped the raindrops from his face and hair while he waited for her to finish. Lowering the towel to the bartop, he fidgeted with its frayed edges. Lana's gentle hands eventually appeared to still the trembling evident from his frazzled nerves.
"Will he be all right?" he asked tentatively.
"He will be; he just needs to cool off." She paused, worrying at her bottom lip. "This is my fault, you know. I was the one that asked him to-"
"It doesn't matter how this came to be, Lana. We all lived separate lives before we met." Cullen folded the small towel and handed it back to her. "Could I have done anything different to support him?"
Lana shrugged, "I don't know; he's in a dark place right now. I think he just needs time and to know that we'll be here for him when he's ready. Are you going to be ok?"
Cullen shrugged. "It's a lot to wrap my head around, but my heart is still his ." He sighed. Pulling out one of his business cards, he flipped it over and wrote his cell phone number on the back. "Will you give me a call or send me a text when you think he's ready to see me again? I don't want to push him if he needs his space. But I… " Cullen choked up on the last words and couldn't get them out.
Lana squeezed his hands comfortingly before pocketing the card in her apron. "I will. He does love you, Cullen. Please remember that."
Cullen nodded and turned to collect his overcoat, giving Leliana a small defeated smile as he left.
Thursday
[14:00]
Cullen: Are you ok?
[16:00]
Cullen: I'm out of here in an hour. I'd like to see you.
[17:00]
Cullen: Fine. I'll try to give you the space you asked for. Please just know that I love you.
Sunday
[12:00]
Cullen: Thinking about you. You know where to find me… when you're ready.
Wednesday
[10:00]
Cullen: Alistair, it's been a week. Are you ready to talk to me yet?
[10:45]
Cullen: I'll take that as a no.
Saturday
[13:00]
Cullen: Damnit, Alistair, please let me in!
Sunday 05:00
Cullen knelt before the statue of Andraste, the Chant of Light flowing automatically off his tongue. This vigil was familiar, comforting; a soothing balm to his frayed nerves and fractured heart. He was so deep in his meditation, in his prayers, that he felt cocooned within a soft haze; the outside world barely registering within the safety of the Maker's house.
Slowly, he became aware of a frail hand resting on his shoulder. He looked up-unfocused-still mouthing the words to the never ending litany of the Chant, he took in the vague shape of a chantry Mother.
Not a threat then .
"Is everything all right?" she asked kindly.
He shook his head, then bowed it once again over his clasped hands, the Chant once more flowing audibly from his parched lips.
"You were here when I retired last night, have you been home yet?"
Maintaining his vigil, he shook his head no; his prayer continued unceasing.
"Cullen?... Mr. Rutherford?..." Getting down on her knees, Mother Natalie placed a hand on either side of his face and said sternly, "Knight-Commander!"
He looked up suddenly, blinking. "Mother Natalie? Is everything ok?" Clearing the cobwebs from his mind, he wondered how long she'd been trying to get his attention.
"I should ask the same of you. Your behavior is worrying. I haven't seen anyone pray through a fifteen hour vigil in many a long year, and unless I'm mistaken, you're pushing seventeen hours now. Is… Is everything ok? Is Alistair ok?" she asked, worry clear in her eyes.
Cullen shrugged sadly, "I wish I knew. It's been a week and a half since I've seen him. He was upset, said he needed space . I'm trying. I really am. The only thing I'm sure of is that he's safe, Lana said she would tell me otherwise." Cullen's thoughts were garbled from sleep deprivation and the calming haze left over from his extended meditation. "Has he come to see you recently?"
She shook her head. "I haven't seen him in over a month, but that's not unusual for him. I learned long ago, that searching him out when he's not ready to be found, is quite futile." She chuckled fondly. "No one could ever beat that boy at hide and seek. But you know, Cullen, I'm not only here for Alistair, I'm here for you as well. Do you want to talk about it?"
"I can't, I'm sorry; this isn't my story to tell. Not really." Cullen sighed. "I would never hurt him intentionally, you know that, right? I only wanted to be there for him, to support him, but he..." Cullen bowed his head again, his vision beginning to blur.
She reached up and smoothed her hand over his shoulder. "The Maker works in strange and wondrous ways, Cullen. You, better than most, know that to be true. We are all led through trials that test our faith. Your faith has never wavered. Have faith in our Alistair now. He's never been one to have a quick temper, but once he gets himself worked up, it can take him longer than most for him to come back down again. It's his cycle. When he's ready, he'll let you in to talk about whatever happened."
He rose stiffly, offering a hand to help up the sweet Mother that just offered him succor. "I will take your words to heart."
"Go home and get some rest, dear. Trust in the Maker to watch over you both."
Cullen turned and lit his candle, then faced Mother Natalie again. "Thank you for… well, for everything I guess."
"You're welcome, son. Now scoot! Go home and get some sleep, you look terrible."
A rough chuckle escaped him. "Yes ma'am," he said as he headed out the door. Looking at his watch, he decided to send Alistair just one more text.
[06:00]
Cullen: I've been doing a poor job of giving you space. I'm sorry. I love you and will be here when you're ready.
Tuesday
It'd been almost two weeks since he last spoke with Alistair and it was driving Cullen mad with worry. He avoided bar; trying to honor Alistair's wishes for space, but Alistair still hadn't reached out to him: no phone calls, no texts, no… Monday morning roses.
Cullen grew more short tempered at work as the silent treatment wore on. He was doing his best to try to distract himself, but the cases that came up at work were simple and routine-he could do them in his sleep-which left him too much time in his own head.
Taking some of the information he'd gleaned from his last conversation with Alistair, he decided to see what he could dig up regarding the names Flemeth or Morrigan . He found only fairy tales and legends-the same shit they used to spew to try to frighten the new recruits in Templar training; absolutely nothing substantial. Witch of the Wilds was a phrase that came up a few times regarding both women, so he made a note and moved on, trying next to research what was going on publicly eleven years ago.
Other than the Massacre at Ostagar, there was nothing in his files, the media files, or public access files stating anything else out of the ordinary. The crime waves were certainly more abundant back then, but the reports were so bloody mundane that he couldn't tell what was real and what was doctored by the Grey Wardens. It left him frustrated, angry, and no closer to helping Alistair than he had been before. He needed more information to go on.
Trying to burn off steam, Cullen added extra days to his workouts at the gym. He'd broken no fewer than five punching bags, three makiwara boards, and may have potentially added a few more holes to the walls at the gym. He knew his demeanor was slipping. He was gradually losing his grip on reality, but he wasn't yet ready to reach out to Dorian for help. If something didn't change soon though, he would definitely need to.
It was nearing the end of his shift and Cullen was particularly short tempered that day. He knew he owed his team an apology-or explanation-but he just couldn't bring himself to admit what was going on; mostly because he wasn't really sure what had happened or what he'd done wrong. Just as he was thinking about leaving a little early to give everyone a break, Rylen came in and closed the door softly behind him.
He approached the desk hesitantly-yet determined-as if he drew the short straw and the rest of the office sent him in to deal with the crazy lion pacing in his gilded cage.
"Can I help you, Lieutenant?" Cullen asked crisply.
"Is there…" Rylen cleared his throat to coax out the next words, "Is there trouble in paradise, Sir?"
Cullen's anger flared and he slammed the report he'd been holding onto the desk, "That is none of your damn business, Lieutenant."
Tamping down his own anger, Rylen bit back quickly, "Normally you would be correct- Sir-but your temper lately has been affecting this office. And the moral of our team is my business!"
Cullen froze, letting the words seep in. Sighing heavily, he glanced at the rose on his desk that had long since dried up. Collapsing back in his chair, he ran his fingers through his hair. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry, Rylen."
"Anything you want to talk about, Sir? You look like you need to get some of, whatever is bothering you, off your chest."
"You don't need to be my therapist, Lieutenant."
"Then let me be your friend, Sir. There's a coffee shop around the corner. It's loud enough to drown out our conversation and not too loud as to deter talking. Unless you want something stronger, there's a bar just down the street-"
Looking up at the ceiling, Cullen relented, "All right, Rylen. No bar though. I suppose it would be nice to get an outside perspective on this. Thank you."
They grabbed their coats and left the office amidst dead silence from the rest of the team.
Rylen led him to a small coffee shop around the corner. As they entered, a petite blonde behind the counter lit up with a smile, "Hey Ry! Want your usual?"
"Yes, please," he responded. "And a plain-black coffee for my… friend."
"I'll bring them right out - find a seat!"
Looking around at the warm atmosphere, Cullen asked, "You uh, come here often?"
"Almost every day after work. Probably for the same reason you frequent a small pub downtown." Rylen looked around the room fondly before his eyes landed on the young woman that greeted them when they came in.
As they found a small table in the corner bracketed by two overstuffed chairs, their cups of coffee were set down in front of them. Sitting on the arm of Rylen's chair, the barista leaned down and kissed him quickly on the cheek.
"Who's your friend, hun?" she asked familiarly.
"Jan, this is my Commander, Cullen Rutherford. Cullen, this is my fiancé, Jan."
Cullen took her hand and shook it warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Rylen is a lucky guy."
Jan blushed. "You are kind to say so. Rylen speaks very highly of you." She grinned, rising from the arm of the chair. "You two just give me a wave if you need a refill, ok?"
Rylan's face lit up at the exchange. Standing when she did, he kissed her chastely with a soft word of thanks.
As she walked off, Cullen watched Rylan's eyes follow her back behind the counter. "I didn't know you were engaged, Rylen."
"Jan and I have been together for over three years now. It was actually your humming about the office that got me thinking it was time to take the next step. I proposed two weeks ago, but haven't been able to find you in an amiable enough mood to tell you, Sir."
"Drop the 'Sir', Rylen. We're out of the office and, as you said yourself, we are here as friends." Cullen managed a small smile. "Congratulations-by the way-I'm happy for you. Do you have a date set yet?"
"Not fully, S- um, no; not yet. Sometime next summer when the weather is nice, but we're not here to talk about me. What's going on? You've been in a piss poor mood these last two weeks; what happened? We were just getting used to you flitting about the office all doe eyed and bringing us donuts. Trust me, that was weird ."
Cullen chuckled, "I bet it was." He took a sip of coffee to collect his thoughts. His expression turned dour, "I wish I had an easy answer for what's wrong. Alistair and I… damn it, I don't even really understand what's going on."
Rylen set his cup down and leaned forward, tentatively laying his hand on Cullen's bouncing knee to still it. "You don't have to understand, that's what I'm here for. Why don't you tell me the simple facts and we'll go from there?"
Taking a breath, Cullen spared Rylen a grateful, if sheepish, smile. "The basic facts? Well, there's a girl from roughly ten to eleven years ago. They had an… arrangement. She showed up two weeks ago and he's been a wreck ever since."
"It sounds like you're leaving out some pretty important details. Was she an ex?"
"Some of the details aren't mine to tell." Cullen sighed, "though right about now I wouldn't mind the help in trying to figure this out. To answer your question, no; they were never romantically involved, though even that is complicated."
"Isn't it always?" Rylen picked his cup back up and reclined in his chair, waiting for Cullen to continue.
"She wants him to help her with something. Whatever it is has her spooked. If I understand things correctly, she needs information. Which would normally be right up my alley, right?"
Rylen nodded.
"But Alistair won't let me help. He won't let me in. He said that since this is something from his past, he needs to take care of it on his own-it's not my problem to deal with." Trying to quell his frustration, Cullen took a deep breath and chased it with a sip of his coffee.
"Feeling left out?"
Cullen shrugged. "I guess? I don't know. Everything's been going so well until now. He was even able to talk me down after that last bad case we had. Those normally leave me simmering for weeks."
"I remember. If I wasn't convinced that you were made for each other before , I certainly was, after."
Cullen scoffed, "I'm not so sure about that."
"Why do you say that?"
Cullen growled as he slammed his cup down, "He won't let me return the favor! I feel…" He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to reign it in, "I don't know, Rylen. I suppose, I feel impuissant. My hands are tied. But, this is what I do, this is what I'm good at. I know I'd be able to help, but he won't let me. Hell, he won't even let me be there for him in this."
"When was the last time you spoke to him?"
"Not since the night she showed up."
"When was that?" Rylen asked, already suspecting the answer.
"Two weeks ago tomorrow." Cullen put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair, "Look, I've sent him texts, but he hasn't responded to any of them."
"Why haven't you gone to see him?"
"He said he wanted space -that since this was something he dug himself into, he needed to fix it by himself ."
"That doesn't sound ominous at all."
"Tell me about it." Cullen sighed. "I've been trying to give him what he asked for as best I can, but it hasn't been easy."
"I can see that. Honestly, the whole office has. What do you think would happen if you just showed up?"
"I don't really know. This whole situation has me completely thrown for a loop. I'm not sure what to do here. I do know that Lana said that she'd let me know if he needed me."
"Lana?"
"His best friend and business partner. You probably would recognize her as my Monday morning delivery girl."
Rylen nodded, "Haven't seen her in a couple weeks."
"I know." Cullen hung his head.
"You still want to call him?"
"With every fiber of my being." He whispered into his cup, "but, he's working at the moment; I don't want to interrupt him during his shift."
"Says the man that used to go several times per week, just to watch him work."
Cullen blushed. "You've met him; he is pretty easy on the eyes."
"If you say so, Sir."
Looking up to reprimand Rylen for calling him 'Sir' again, Cullen caught him smiling. "You're messing with me." He deadpanned.
Rylen shrugged, "Look, it's obvious that you're head over heels for this guy. Go let him know how much he still means to you. Go fight for him. If for no other reason than to give us some sanity back in the office."
Cullen smiled as he set down his empty cup. "Thanks Rylen; I guess I did need someone else to bounce this off of. I've been telling myself the same thing and just kept second guessing it." His phone vibrated. "Excuse me a moment," he said as he retrieved it from his inner coat pocket.
Unfamiliar with the number, Cullen opened the text dialog.
[17:43]
Unknown: She's back. Ali could use you for backup.
Cullen: Lana?
Lana: Yes. You should hurry.
Cullen: Does he want me there?
Lana: He hasn't asked for you specifically, but he's been struggling over it for days.
Lana: He needs you, Cullen, and he's at a point right now where he won't refuse your help.
Lana: Please Come! This is… 'bad' doesn't even begin to cover it.
Cullen: I am on my way.
Returning his phone to his pocket, he looked at Rylen apologetically, "I'm sorry, I really need to go. How much do I owe for my coffee?"
"Just go, she never charges me for coffee anyway."
Cullen offered another small smile. "That sounds familiar." He chuckled before shaking his hand, "Thank you, Rylen."
"Anytime, Sir." Rylen smiled fondly as Cullen bolted out the door.
End Notes:
There are several dear souls to whom I want to give special love for helping me along my path:
The Keystrokes - My muses and sources of inspiration during my daily writing sprints.
Connie Flint - My first guide and conscience. Before I knew I wanted to post my stories, you were there to encourage me!
Ponticle - My own personal trainer-keeping me on task and helping me improve my form every step of the way!
Lola Auditore/Lola Vega - My last minute reader, polisher, and all around supportive cheerleader!
I am beyond grateful to have so much wonderful support-but for the record, I do go back over my work once my beta's have had their way with it (and occasionally change shit anyway), so any and all mistakes within are all my own! Please don't blame them, I don't pay them nearly what they're worth to me!
This story is cross posted on both fanfiction as well as AO3. I am also on Tumblr, come find me!
Thank you all so much for your support!
