Cullen stood on the bridge between his tower and Solas' study, leaning his elbows on the wall. Solas stood beside him.
And Lahria walked below, talking with some of members of the Inquisition.
"Our Inquisitor," said Cullen, grinning.
"Indeed."
The two men looked at each other then, surprised to find their own feelings reflected on the others' face.
"Maker," Cullen laughed. "I feel like you and I should talk more. Get a drink sometime."
"I would like that." Solas inclined his head.
They stood a moment, watching her.
"Do you know the Elven words for 'I love you'?" Solas asked.
The Commander's face burned pink. "I, uh... no. No I don't."
Slowly, Solas told him. "Ar lath ma." A pause. "Say it."
"What?"
"Repeat it back to me."
Face turning scarlet, he did, and Solas corrected his pronunciation until he got it right.
"I thought you should know," said Solas.
Cullen kept his eyes on Lahria, feeling completely ridiculous. "I... I'm not sure I'd feel right using that phrase. It seems like something... shouldn't that be between the two of you?"
Solas leaned an elbow on the wall and turned to face the other man. "When Lahria was a girl, her mother said those words to her every night before bed. Her parents likely said it to each other in front of her. She overheard others in the clan whispering it to their lovers. Every wedding she attended, every story told around the fire – those words were there. Likely, as a young woman, she lay in bed, whispering it to herself, wondering what it would be like to hear it said to her."
The Commander didn't know what to say to that.
"It's your choice. But I think... I think it would please her to hear you say it."
"I... thank you." Cullen finally looked at Solas. "That was generous."
"You were generous enough to say yes."
They shared a smile, then heard Lahria call.
"Hey! Boys!" Both of them looked at her, fists on her hips, head thrown back, light on her face, and a grin tugging up the corner of her mouth. Her hair was down from its usual ponytail and the wind was tangling curls of it across her face. She pressed a hand to her mouth and blew them a kiss, bending slightly in a bow, body twisting just enough to make the playful gesture look like an invitation.
"Maker," Cullen whispered.
"Agreed."
"Come join me for dinner!" She shouted.
"At once, Inquisitor." Cullen pressed a fist over his heart in a mock salute.
She turned away, a skip in her step, radiant as the sun.