Author's note: The scene many of you have been waiting for...Cullen and Anders finally have a little talk about what happened. But knowing these two, how much do you think they'll be able to resolve with one discussion?


Cullen paced back and forth behind his desk, jaw clenched so tightly he could hear his teeth grinding. Samson had crossed a line. His operation in Emprise du Lion was not just misguided. It was monstrous.

Growling, he leaned over his desk to read the report again. Samson had been using people to grow red lyrium. The way he had been forcing his own templars to take the stuff had been bad enough, but the thought of him killing innocents and using them as a resource for his corrupted army was beyond horrifying. They had shut down one mine, but he would only set up another. The only way to stop the madness would be to stop him...permanently. Slamming a hand down on top of the letter, Cullen clenched his fingers until the paper was crumpled within them.

"Have I come at a bad time?"

Cullen looked up at the sound of the voice, jaw dropping open when he saw Anders standing just inside the doorway, still dreadfully pale and slouching a little as if he barely had the strength to stand. "Inquisitor," he breathed.

"Commander," Anders replied with a dry smile.

Straightening, Cullen released his grip on the report and studied the mage uncertainly. They hadn't spoken before or during the ball, and Anders had been so incoherent after his injury that Cullen wasn't sure if he'd have even recognized him. But that wasn't a valid excuse to ignore him. To be honest, Cullen had been consciously avoiding him ever since that awkward morning in Anders' quarters. He hadn't known what to say to him then, and had even fewer ideas now.

"Can I help you?" he asked with an air of formality.

A frown creased between Anders' eyes, and he looked away, rubbing absently at the place below his breastbone as if it itched, the very place that had been a gaping hole before Morrigan used her blasphemous magic to close it. And she'd only done that at Cullen's command. He shivered at the memory.

"How are you feeling?" he asked suddenly, realizing how rude it was to neglect asking such an obvious question. Regardless of their strained relationship, he had no excuse for forgetting common courtesy.

"Like I almost died," Anders said lightly, but the words meant more than his tone implied.

Cullen nodded, unable to think of an appropriate response.

"I suppose I'm here...to thank you for my life," Anders added, his eyes darting back toward Cullen and then quickly drifting away again. "I wouldn't be here now if not for you."

The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, and Cullen cleared his throat. "You should probably thank Morrigan for that."

"She would not have acted if you hadn't given her permission."

Cullen shrugged. "I merely returned a favor. I'm not sure I would have survived my lyrium withdrawal without your assistance, after all." He wasn't sure how true that explanation was, but it was believable enough.

Anders met Cullen's gaze suddenly, and he nodded as if Cullen had lived down to his expectations. "Then I guess that makes us even. No debt either way." Glancing at the papers strewn over Cullen's desk, he turned away. "You look busy. I'm sorry I bothered you."

"Anders..." Cullen began without any idea of how he was going to finish the sentence, but he didn't want to leave things like that.

Anders looked back at him curiously.

"Do you…" Looking down at the reports on Samson's activities, Cullen asked, "Do you know a tranquil named Maddox? He was part of Kirkwall's circle."

Frowning, Anders shook his head. "I didn't know him personally, but I'm familiar with the name. As I recall, he was made tranquil for the heinous crime of falling in love." His voice was dripping with bitterness as he continued, "How did they phrase the crime? 'Corrupting the moral integrity of a templar.' Something like that. Meredith did love to throw around words like 'corruption' and 'morality' whenever possible."

Cullen winced, realizing that this had been the absolute wrong topic to bring up. He should have expected that Anders would have strong feelings about the tranquil; Anders had suffered painful consequences over his own love affair in the circle, after all, and it was that love that had brought him to Kirkwall in the first place. But it was too late to retreat gracefully, so Cullen forged ahead. "I've been following Samson's activities closely since Haven. Recently I've learned that he rescued Maddox from Kirkwall and used him to develop his armor. That armor makes him nearly invincible. If we could learn how it was made, we might be able to find a vulnerability."

"That's assuming we could convince Maddox to tell us." Anders shook his head. "After everything he's been through, I can't think of a reason why he would help."

"Perhaps you could get through to him," Cullen suggested, but immediately wanted to take the words back when he saw the fire sparking to life in Anders' eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" Rubbing at his neck in embarrassment, he stared down at his desk.

"It's fine," Anders replied stiffly. "You're probably right. If anyone has a chance of connecting with him, it's me. Just tell me where to go, and I'll-"

"Anders," Cullen cut him off sharply, walking around his desk and approaching the mage before he fully considered what he was going to do when he got there. "I'm making a mess of things, as usual," he said, looking Anders in the eye from a few steps away and struggling to keep his nerve now that there was no physical barrier between them.

Eyes narrowing, Anders attempted to cross his arms over his chest, but winced with pain halfway through the motion.

Cullen caught his elbow to steady him. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Anders said through gritted teeth. "Just sore." Taking a deep breath, he blinked up at Cullen from beneath furrowed brows. "You wanted to say something?"

"I...I never thanked you properly. For healing my lyrium addiction, I mean. With the masquerade, and everything that happened after, I never found the time."

Expression guarded, Anders replied, "I thought we just agreed that neither of us owes the other anything."

"No, I... " Cullen cleared his throat again. "That's not what I meant. I mean, that's not really why I asked Morrigan to heal you. Not out of a sense of obligation."

Studying him, Anders asked, "Then why?"

"I don't know," Cullen answered honestly. "But I couldn't let you die. Not like that."

"You blamed yourself," Anders guessed. "For failing to notice the danger until it was too late."

"Yes," Cullen admitted. "But that's not the entire reason either. We were running out of time. She made the offer, and it seemed like an acceptable risk. So I took it."

"An acceptable risk? She used blood magic!" Anders retorted, surprising Cullen with his vehemence. "I still can't understand it. You can barely tolerate magic at all—and that's the kind that doesn't require blood sacrifices or a pact with a demon. I never expected to see you compromise your beliefs so completely."

Cullen felt his skin heat with an angry blush. "There was no other option." Shaking his head, he asked, "Does this mean Varric was right? Would you really have rather died than be healed with blood magic?"

Collecting himself with a deep breath, Anders looked away. "Yes," he replied softly. "If I had been given the choice, I would have chosen death."

"Even now? You said you came here to thank me for your life. Was that a lie?"

Anders sighed. "I… No. As much as I'd like to stay completely true to my principles, it's hard to argue with survival."

Cullen leaned back against his desk, suddenly exhausted by the conversation. Why had he ever broached this topic? What was he trying to prove? "If you asked me what decision I would make in that sort of situation," he said slowly, the thoughts forming in his mind only moments before the words left his lips. "If you posed it purely as a hypothetical, I would choose differently. In the abstract, my decision makes no sense. I hate blood magic as much as you do—maybe more. But you were lying there in a pool of your own blood, so pale and deathly still… And all I could think about was how close you had come to dying that way back in Kirkwall—how angry I had been that Hawke had chosen not to finish the job at the time—and how much my feelings have changed since then. I realized that I wanted you to live. And when I realized that...I couldn't accept any other option."

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, Anders stared at him as if struggling with a decision; Cullen couldn't interpret the expression on his face, but the intensity of the emotion made him anxious. For a moment he thought Anders was going to finally ask him about their awkward awakening the morning after his healing. But then Anders sighed. "I don't know what to say."

"Neither do I. So let's just leave it at that." Walking back around his desk, Cullen frowned at the stack of reports and pulled a fresh one from the top of the pile. "You were right before. I have a lot of work. I should get back to it."

Anders stared at him for a while longer before finally nodding. "Let me know when you get a lead on Maddox. I'll try to convince him to help us."

"I appreciate that."

"And Cullen?"

Looking up from his report, Cullen felt warmth blossom in his chest when he saw the smile wrinkling the corners of Anders' eyes.

"Don't work too hard. You're still recovering too, remember?"

Cullen nodded, swallowing hard as he watched Anders walk away.