Oh, these two. They make me happy - I hope you all enjoy them, too. Thanks for reading!
13 Wintersend, 9:42
Cullen had enjoyed the evening even less than he had expected to. Not only had he been forced to spend it making charming small talk with any number of vapid women, and in an extremely uncomfortable uniform at that, but he had had to watch Antonia disappear into the depths of the Winter Palace several times without knowing where she was going, or who might try to kill her there.
That she had handily uncovered the plot against the Empress's life, evaded the trap set for her by Grand Duchess Florianne, and exposed Florianne's complicity with Corypheus in a way the duchess had not been able to deny, and done it all with a panache that made her the darling of the Imperial Court didn't surprise him in the least—Antonia was extraordinary, after all. And he didn't begrudge her having done it all on her own, with Dorian and Varric in attendance as always, and Cassandra's able assistance. He simply resented having had his own skills wasted when they could have been put to so much better use at her side.
It all had Cullen feeling unsettled and off-kilter, this standing around and talking that was so much more anyone else's bailiwick other than his own. Even Cassandra was more comfortable in these circumstances than he was.
Of course, Cassandra was royalty. Josephine, Antonia, and Dorian were nobility. Varric was from the rich merchant class, much as he tried to pretend otherwise. Leliana had not grown up privileged, but her bard training meant this was her element. Cullen was the sole representative of the common man the Inquisition had brought to this affair, and so it was no wonder, he told himself, that he felt the least comfortable in this environment. Not that that made him any happier.
And now, the most concerning part of all was that after her exposure of Florianne, and a private conversation with the Empress following that, Antonia had disappeared. He was trying not to be anxious about it, as he knew that said as much about his frame of mind as it did the potential danger to her, but the partygoers were revelling in her name, toasting her and Andraste, feasting to their hearts' content. She was missing a great celebration in her honor—which Cullen understood, but at the same time, typically Antonia's commitment to the Inquisition would have had her there, smiling and nodding, at least. He tried to make the rounds himself, but it was even harder to keep his mind on the insipid conversations now than it had been earlier.
Leliana found him as he was trying to keep his mind on a conversation about Varric's latest book with a young lady whose pronunciation of "Donnen Brennokovic" was the most amusing thing about her. "Pardon me, Lady Fiorette. It seems I need to borrow our commander for a moment."
Fiorette pouted. "Are you certain? I could return him to your lodgings later. It would be no trouble."
"Thank you, my lady," he said, hoping this was the last time this evening he had to feign a politeness he did not feel, "but I regret that my duties to the Inquisition take precedence over ... all other inclinations."
She pouted again, but gave him her hand. He kissed it gingerly and then he was blissfully free to go away with Leliana.
"Don't ever make me do that again."
Leliana laughed. "But you did it so well! I was quite proud of you. And you could have made any number of conquests."
He settled for raising his eyebrows to indicate how little he cared. As far as he was concerned, the only conquest that mattered was the one Antonia had made of him, but he wasn't about to say that aloud, even to Leliana.
"And speaking of conquests ... I believe yours is on the balcony, just up those stairs. She has had a long evening, and far exceeded everything that was expected of her. Perhaps what she needs now is some ... support."
Cullen could feel his heartrate speed up. He hadn't imagined that a few days without holding Antonia, or kissing her, could feel so interminable, but they certainly had. How quickly a dream he had never expected to come true had become a reality he couldn't do without.
"Give her a moment, however," Leliana said in a different tone. "I believe she is having a conversation she will want to finish." She sighed. "The past, Cullen—it never entirely goes away. Our ghosts come back to haunt us when we least expect them." And with that cryptic comment, she turned away.
Cullen watched her go. He wasn't certain what Leliana had meant about the ghosts, but there was time to find out the details later. For now, he concentrated on taking the stairs one at a time instead of leaping up them in twos and threes the way he wished to do.
As he neared the balcony, a beautiful woman in a rather overdone ballgown, at least to Cullen's admittedly untrained eye, exited. She looked him up and down, not the way women had been doing all night, but more as one would examine a bug under a microscope, or possibly a stud horse. Whichever way she meant it, Cullen didn't like it. She looked remarkably familiar, but he couldn't quite place her.
He put her out of his mind, his heart leaping as he saw Antonia leaning on the balcony rail. "There you are! Everyone's been looking for you." He leaned on the railing next to her, feeling happier just to be standing here with her. "Everything has calmed down for the moment. Well, not the party so much, but at least the intrigues. Apparently it is difficult to play the Game properly with your mouth full of food." He turned to look at her. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she looked drawn and wearied. "Are you all right?"
"Do you know who that was?" Antonia asked.
"The woman? No."
"That was Morrigan. From the Blight."
Now he remembered—she had been at the Circle tower with Thomas and Leliana when they saved him. "Of course! That's where I've seen her before. She wore fewer clothes during the Blight." Cullen looked over his shoulder in the direction Morrigan had gone. "No wonder Leliana seemed less than pleased."
"She may already know what I've just discovered—that Morrigan is Orlais' official liaison to the Inquisition."
"That could be good; she's a powerful mage with a great deal of knowledge most people don't possess."
"Who would have believed you would be happy about the addition of a powerful mage to our little Inquisition family?" Antonia smiled.
"Any weapon we can wield against Corypheus has my support," he said fervently. "And we've struck another blow at his plans by foiling the plot against Celene. You were very impressive tonight, you know. The way you faced down Florianne—style as well as courage."
Antonia shook her head. "I'm not certain I feel very impressive. " She shook her head. "I'm sorry; I'm just worn out. Tonight has been ... very long."
"For all of us. I know I'm glad it's over." Cullen smiled, trying to make a joke of his own ordeal, but Antonia didn't smile in return. He reached out, stroking her arm. "I know it's foolish, but I was worried for you tonight."
At that, the corner of her mouth quirked a little, and she covered his hand with her own, briefly. "Not foolish; Florianne had a rift in the Fade, and archers. I wasn't supposed to reappear in the ballroom. Thank the Maker for Dorian and Varric and Cassandra."
A chill made its way through him. He'd had no idea he had come that close to losing her. "I wish I could have been there fighting on your behalf. Next time I will be," Cullen added with determination. He couldn't keep standing around and letting her go into danger without him.
"Hopefully next time you'll have an army at your back, the way it ought to be."
From the ballroom, Cullen could hear the distant sound of applause, and then the notes of a new song beginning. Perhaps there was something he could do to help ease the strain of her evening. "You know, we might never get another chance, so I have to ask." Antonia turned to him, her eyebrows lifted questioningly, and he bent at the waist, offering her his hand. "May I have this dance, my lady?"
Now her eyes warmed, and she put her small, strong hand in his. "Of course. But I thought you said you didn't dance?"
"In public, with strangers, definitely not. But alone, and with you? I'll try." There were no words to describe how good it felt to have her in his arms again, to have her delicate face turned up to his. It was almost worth him stepping on her foot at the first turn, and stumbling on the second.
"Cullen," she said.
"What?"
"You're overthinking. Dancing isn't a chess game."
"A shame, too. I'm good at chess."
At that, she did smile. "I think you could learn to enjoy dancing just as much."
"With the right partner?"
"Exactly."
He looked down into her bright brown eyes and the world fell away. Nothing mattered except this moment with this woman. He lost himself in the music and the way her body moved with his, so perfectly.
Eventually he realized they were no longer dancing, merely swaying in time to the beat of the music. He had brought the hand he was holding in his to his chest, and his other arm was tight around her waist, holding her against him. Antonia's eyes were liquid soft, wide and starry, and he felt—he couldn't even say what he felt, except that it was a moment unlike any he had ever experienced before. "Antonia, I—" He caught himself. This wasn't the time for those words. He had never told a woman he loved her before; had, in fact, only ever thought he was in love once before, and that had been a pale shadow compared to the richness and depth of what he felt now. But the fear that had had him second-guessing himself so often before was still there, dark shadows in his heart and mind that had yet to be dispelled. Instead, he said, "I never want to let you go."
She raised on her toes, her free hand curving around the back of his neck. "Please don't," she breathed, just before her lips met his.
It was a slow, sweet kiss, as Cullen tried to tell her without words everything that she made him feel. Did she know how he had meant those words? That he wanted her for his own, to have and to hold for the rest of his life?
He would have to tell her, later, in no uncertain terms. For now, as the kiss ended and she laid her head against his shoulder with a trusting sigh, this was all he needed.
