Chapter Seven

Construction in Skyhold had been going on in the weeks since finding the massive fortress, the sounds of metal striking metal and wood being hammered into place able to be heard from every corner. Pilgrims were arriving daily, and everyone had begun to develop a steady routine.

Upon first getting settled, Cullen had wasted no time in leading the bulk of their soldiers down the mountain toward a pass near a frozen river where they would be able to set up quarters. It was also a brilliant location, for it was the only bit of flattened earth where they could go back to training on a daily basis. His personal office and bedroom were back in Skyhold, though he'd spent the last three days with the troops.

Now back in his own lodging, he went to work organizing the shelves. It was a tedious effort, and vastly unneeded, yet it was all there was to do. The Inquisition had taken a crushing blow after Haven, so as expected, it was going to take some time before they could resume their efforts in bringing peace.

But with the breach sealed, they faced another threat, one they couldn't even begin to consider defeating until they managed to win back the strength they'd lost. Until then, they were safe, as well as better prepared. Though it was unlikely, if the Elder One happened to locate them and launch another attack, they would see the opposing forces long before they arrived. He'd vowed to never allow their organization to suffer another devastating blow.

Sighing, he stacked one final book he'd never read onto the shelf. He wasn't illiterate in the slightest, but he certainly had no patience to read through endless texts of the chantry he'd learned years ago. For all he cared, they could be used for tinder, but only the slight fear of Josephine's scolding prevented him from doing so.

As he straightened, he peered around the room and wondered what else he could do to pass the time. He spotted a pile of rotted wood in one corner, which promptly reminded him of the damaged ceiling in his loft, but those particular repairs could wait. They were minor compared to the rest of the damage the carpenters had been busy fixing throughout the fort, and he had no will to prolong the reconstruction for the sake of his own comfort. No matter how much his fellow advisors had insisted otherwise.

Speaking of advisors…

He was reminded once more that he hadn't spoken to Evelyn since Haven. Well, that wasn't necessarily true. They'd had one brief council meeting shortly after she had been given another new title—Inquisitor. They'd discussed their current situation as well as shared thoughts on what was to come, but they'd all agreed that they wouldn't be able to do anything until they managed to get back on their feet. If they were going to be taken seriously as a force of power, the first step they'd have to take was presentation.

Varric had also mentioned he may have been able to help with getting information on Corypheus, though he hadn't said much other than he'd reach out to his 'friend'. As of now, he was still waiting on a response, but until then, there was work to do.

Despite how busy it had been, Cullen realized there had been more than a few chances he could have taken to approach Evelyn in private, but shame and fear had prevented him from seeking her out. Shame because he could never forget those cruel words he'd said to her in Haven, and fear that even if he apologized, it would be too late. She hadn't sent word that she wanted him to resign as her military advisor, but that wasn't as much a concern as opposed to the thought that she would never forgive him. It was unbearable.

And he knew full well it was time to stop being a coward. If she decided it was too late for apologies, then he would only have himself to blame, but at least he could say he tried.

Even as he straightened his shoulders and walked from his office with confidence he did not feel, he took slow strides to prolong the walk across the bridge toward the rounded tower. He pushed through a heavy door and was met with loud echoes of Leliana's crows on the top floor. The library was stocked full of books and scrolls that had already been present long before they'd arrived, yet a handful of workers were busying themselves by cleaning off the dust and cobwebs.

He found the stairs that wound down onto the main floor that would lead to the throne room. He had no idea where Evelyn would be at this time of day, but instead of stopping to ask anyone if they'd seen her, he kept to himself and took in the grand expanse of the building as he strolled.

Before he made it to the ground floor, his steps faltered when he heard the sounds of muffled speech. Every so often, he'd hear the word 'spirit' or 'Fade', making him realize with a roll of his eyes that it could only be Solas. He'd never before sought to have a personal conversation with the elf beyond Inquisition matters, yet more than once he'd overheard someone mentioning his strange manner of speaking or his even stranger talk of traveling through the Fade by means of dreaming.

Shaking his head, he decided he'd just ignore the male as he continued walking, though when he entered the room illuminated in soft bright light by several hanging torches, he spotted the mage seated in a chair with Evelyn's feet dangling from her perch on the table near him.

Her hands were moving as she spoke to him, her eyes full of curiosity as she listened to whatever stories Solas had to offer.

A green-eyed monster reared in Cullen's heart. He recognized the beast for what it was. Jealousy. It wasn't an emotion that he'd experienced often while growing up, yet it was a reoccurring feeling each time he saw Evelyn with Solas. He was one of the few people to understand her silent language, so it was understandable that they spoke frequently, but that didn't stop him from feeling envious that she seemed so…open with him, when all Cullen had ever gotten from her were cautious looks and avoidance.

He winced. Once again, that was his own fault, wasn't it? It wasn't like he'd ever tried to gain her friendship, nor had he given her any reason to believe he was anything more than the 'naturally grumpy' commander she saw him as. Their relationship—if it could even be called that—reminded him all too well of another from his past. A mage from Ferelden's circle tower he'd grown an unethical attachment to before she'd left to join the Wardens. Like with Amell, he was the uptight overseer who refused to cross the boundaries of professionalism, and she the observant mage who wore casual smiles to hide the cunning intellect behind her eyes.

Evelyn, he'd learned weeks ago, was like Amell in so many ways. Both were headstrong, formidable women who could conquer the world with their actions if they so desired. Both were fair in their decisions, showing mercy and grace at times, yet providing just execution when needed. Perhaps that was why he'd found himself attracted to Evelyn on more than a physical level, but he hoped it wasn't the case. He'd done everything in his power to try and move on from his less than cheery past. Seeing all the traits of his old admiration present in Evelyn left a bitter taste in his mouth. It felt immoral, like a treacherous part of him was trying to replace what had been lost to him a decade ago.

Such a notion was wrong and bound to stir all kinds of emotional trouble he wanted to avoid.

Shaking his head to dislodge the uncomfortable line of thinking, he stepped into the room, pretending he hadn't been spying on them. Evelyn spotted him before Solas had. Her smile faltered as she looked at him, and she would never know how that small, unintentional movement hurt him worse than any physical damage he'd undergone. He did not want to be the reason for that flicker of unease in her eyes.

Clearing his throat, he approached the two of them. "Inquisitor," he greeted politely. "Forgive my intrusion, but I'd like to have a word, if you have the time."

Evelyn peered down at Solas and waved before standing. When she met Cullen's eyes, her expression smoothed over into a mask of indifference. The difference in seeing her this way compared to that playful imp he'd met back in Haven was a sharp slap in the face.

Swallowing thickly, he turned to lead her toward the door that would take them back outside. The walk was full of tense silence, and he spent the entire time going over just what he could possibly say to her, yet he came up short each time. Though he knew he needed to apologize, it was insufficient to just say 'I'm sorry'. He'd heard those two simple words so many times in life. They were nothing more than a small bandage slapped over a deep gash.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize they were nearing the damaged part of the battlements. Not until Evelyn let out a low whistle behind him to draw his attention. It was secluded and no one else was around to pry, so he supposed it was as good a place as any. Drawing in a deep breath, he turned to her.

There was a good bit of distance between them. Too much, actually. She stood tall with her arms folded behind her back, her expression still blank. She was giving nothing away. It made his chest squeeze in discomfort. The gap between them was even more than the space that would be acceptable between two acquaintances. She regarded him as though they were…well, a templar and a mage.

The knowledge only caused his chest to constrict even more.

"Inquisitor, I…er…" His words failed him as he tried to come up with a way to ease the tension between them, but to no avail. His gaze trailed to the side. "The soldiers have been assigned temporary quarters, and their training has resumed. It's…going well."

There was a slight twitch of confusion between her eyebrows, which made him want to kick himself. She reached toward her belt and pulled away a notepad and quill. After a quick scrawl, he read her words. "Is that all?"

He immediately felt foolish for his inability to say what had been on his mind for weeks, but the longer he stood there frozen on the spot, the more he struggled to properly convey his feelings.

At his silence, she gave a stiff nod as though to say, Very well. She turned on her heel and began to walk away.

Cullen squeezed his eyes shut, annoyed with his own cowardice. It was now or never. He knew without a doubt that if he didn't get it off his chest right this moment, it would forever be too late to try again.

"Inquisitor," he called, his heart drumming madly. She stopped in her tracks, though she didn't turn around. He took a slight step forward. "That's not why I brought you here. I…" He heaved a deep sigh and rubbed the back of his neck with more force than he intended. "Back in Haven…I said some awful things to you… That was unworthy of me. It was out of line and cruel and I should have never treated you that way. I know I cannot change the past, but I swear to you that if I could, I'd…"

He broke off with another sigh. In the war room and on the battlefield, he was as fearless as he was strategic, always quick to formulate a plan. He could order others around and bark out commands with ease. Here on the battlements with Evelyn, he was a bumbling fool who couldn't even get his words across without getting all tongue-tied. He was a man of action, not feelings, yet his knowledge with the former would not be helpful in this situation.

"I am sorry, Evelyn," he said in the sincerest tone he could muster. Not because he wanted to get rid of his guilt, but because he truly regretted hurting her. "You have every right to despise me right now, but even so, I…I hope you can forgive me. You are so much more than any of us could have hoped for." In a smaller, much quieter tone, he added, "More than I could have hoped for."

For a long, long, excruciatingly long time, she didn't move a muscle. She could have been a statue for all he knew as she stood there, her back to him while his words hung in the air between them. All he could do was wait.

He expected her to just continue walking away, but when instead she finally turned to face him, all the air in his lungs left him when he saw her smile. That small, gentle tilt of her lips left his heart clamoring beneath his armor even as he struggled to breathe properly.

The impact of seeing her genuinely smile for the first time in…well, ever…left him yearning for more. He suddenly wanted to know more about her—her background, her favorite colors, her hopes and dreams. He wanted to know if she preferred sweets or tarts. If she made decisions based on the present or if she thought about them in the long term. He wanted to know about her biggest fears and deepest regrets. What made her angry, and what made her happy.

More than anything, he wanted to see that smile more and more.

Such sentimental thoughts alarmed and unnerved him, but it couldn't be helped. He wanted to know every last bit about Evelyn Trevelyan, all because of that slight curve of the lips she aimed at him.

He watched with heated cheeks as she approached him, stopping just a few feet away. Her expression was no longer guarded, and he could see the relief and gratitude in those beautiful emerald depths.

She wrote something down, and instead of turning the notepad in his direction, she tore the paper and passed it to him. "I forgive you," it read, along with a rather adorable drawing of a smiley face.

Cullen's shoulders relaxed for what seemed to be the first time in months. Perhaps even years. He stared at the note, at the light, feminine strokes of the quill. Just three little words, yet they meant more to him than she would ever know.

Meeting her eyes once more, he found himself returning her smile as an odd pressure settled in his heart. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, uncomfortable and confusing, yet not entirely unpleasant. However, the longer he held her gaze, the more he understood what it meant.

He was falling for her.

…

…

It took another week before Varric's mystery friend arrived in Skyhold. Evelyn had spoken to Hawke, obtaining new information about Corypheus, yet it had left them all with far more questions. In the war room, they'd made plans to pay a visit to Crestwood to meet with her Grey Warden friend with fingers crossed that he or she might be able to provide some answers about the other missing Wardens. Though they weren't scheduled to begin the journey until tomorrow morning, Hawke had already left ahead of time to set up preparations.

Though it was late in the afternoon, the sun wouldn't set for another handful of hours. Evelyn wondered what else she could possibly do to pass the time. Construction was still underway, though whenever she offered to lend a hand, she was told—quite firmly—that her assistance was not needed. It wasn't that the workers had thought she wouldn't be helpful, as Josephine had clarified, but it was the idea that every individual in Skyhold had a job to do. Even if it was just maintaining the cleanliness of the throne room's floors, every one wanted to contribute in some way, so allowing someone else to take over or assist in even the smallest of tasks pretty much made them feel as though they weren't doing enough.

It was understandable, but she'd be damned if it wasn't disappointing. Who would have thought that with a darkspawn magister on the loose with intentions on destroying the world, there could be such a boring day?

With a small pout, she contemplated what to do. It was a pity the tavern had yet to open. She wasn't much of a drinker, but it would be nice to sit around and simply listen to others' talk about their days or sharing stories. She'd already explored every nook and cranny of the fort twice, even the areas Cullen had prohibited anyone from entering until any and all repairs were done, and she'd made her rounds to check on her companions, the healers, the cooks, and…well everyone.

There was simply nothing else to do. She almost wished a minor emergency would come up just for the sake of giving her something to do. Selfish as that may be.

Sighing, she resigned herself to simply strolling through the courtyard, taking slow steps toward the stairs that would lead her back to the throne room. If there was nothing else, she could go upstairs to the library and find something to read. Before the mage rebellion, she'd been an avid bookworm in Ostwick's Circle Tower. She'd spent most of her time there withdrawn and alone with only dozens of books to keep her company.

The shelves in Skyhold's library were mostly full, a number of books and scrolls had already been present before they'd arrived. Perhaps she'd be able to find an old text she'd never heard of before.

With that bleak optimism in mind, she entered a door that led her through the rotunda. Though Solas spent most of his days in the main room, he was usually retired to his personal quarters by this time, so she was quite surprised to see him seated at the table, his fingers poking and prodding at some kind of crystal. He seemed busy, so she made to continue onward without disturbing him.

However, he must have caught sight of her in his peripheral. "Inquisitor," he greeted, raising his head. "Do you have a moment?"

Though he called her by her formal title, she let it slide whenever they weren't alone. While she could care less what anyone else thought of him referring to her on a first-name basis, she'd accepted his request that they maintain an air of professionalism when others might overhear them. It was, as he claimed, in her best interest.

"Do you need something?"

He slid his chair back and stood. "There is something I wish to discuss with you, preferably somewhere with a bit more privacy."

His voice held its usual passive tone, giving her the impression that there wasn't anything troubling him, so she allowed herself to relax and nod. "Where did you have in mind?"

…

…

Evelyn followed Solas through the snowy fields of a familiar terrain. Haven stood just as she remembered it, covered in ice with the chantry standing tall under the sun. The sun, and the bright glow of the breach.

Though a part of her knew in the back of her mind that she had already sealed the breach and there was no way it should still be in the sky, she didn't question it as she trailed after him. He led her through the chantry's lower chambers, to the cell she'd been held in after stepping out of the Fade. As he spoke, she responded periodically, though she mostly just listened to him explain to her his side of the events that had taken place before learning she had the power to seal rifts.

When he mentioned something about Cassandra threatening him, she made a humorous remark, which resulted in him laughing. Not an amused smile or a small chuckle as she was accustomed to receiving from him, but a genuine laugh. For a moment, she merely stood there, transfixed with how the austere lines of his face had softened and his eyes had crinkled with a wide smile. It was the first time she'd seen him without his usual mask of indifference. She liked it.

As they exited the chantry, she was starting to realize that he hadn't truly had a favor or any such request along those lines. It was more like he needed to freely express his thoughts, thoughts that had no doubt been piling on top of each other since the explosion. He was an apostate mage with an unknown background. She couldn't imagine it was at all easy for him to openly vent to anyone, even the other companions they traveled with. The fact that he was able to confide in her was endearing, to say the least.

They spent quiet moments staring at the breach, until she turned to him and waited for him to do the same. "A while ago, you told me you would stay until the breach has been closed."

He tilted his head slightly to one side. "Indeed, I did."

She mimicked the movement. "The breach is closed now."

"And so, it is."

"Are you leaving, then?"

He fell silent for a while, a contemplating, yet guarded look in his eyes as he watched her closely, as though searching for…something. "The world now faces a new danger, one that threatens us all far worse than anything the breach was capable of."

She quirked a brow at his attempt to dance around the query. "That didn't answer my question."

"Do you wish me to go?" Arms folded behind his back, he took a small step forward, and it was only then that it occurred to her that he was taller than most elves she'd met. They were usually on the shorter side and far slenderer compared to their human counterparts, yet Solas was both taller and broader than her. His build wasn't as wide as Cullen's, yet it was clear that physically he was by no means fragile.

She held his gaze. "The Inquisition could use any help it can get."

"That did not answer my question either," he murmured, taking another step closer. So close that the material of his tunic brushed her overcoat. When he spoke again, it was deliberately slow as he enunciated every word. "Do you wish for me to stay…or go?"

Her heart gave an odd little flutter at the way his voice lowered, almost seductively. Which was foolish in itself. Solas was not a man who casually flirted. Hell, he was so modest and distant with everyone that she was almost sure he didn't even know how to flirt.

And yet, she couldn't help the shiver sliding along her skin at the meaning behind his words. He wasn't asking if the Inquisition wanted his help. He was asking her directly, suggesting her opinion held any value to him.

So as to show she was serious, she angled her head to meet his gaze. With a single, simple gesture, she signed, "Stay."

Those reticent, blue-gray eyes softened in delight and one corner of his mouth twitched ever-so-slightly. "Good," he whispered.

Seconds later, she realized neither of them had moved away from the other. It was odd, the way her chest tightened in a way that only Cullen had ever made her feel. She glanced at his lips, taking in their fullness. A fleeting thought wondered how they would taste, if they would feel as soft as they looked.

A voice in the back of her mind warned that such speculation had no reason to exist, yet it wouldn't go away. Her gaze traveled lower when she saw his throat work on a hard swallow.

Before she knew what was happening, he leaned forward. It was just a tentative, hesitant brush of the lips, barely even able to be called a kiss with how chaste it was. Then the initial shock passed as he pressed deeper, closing that breath of space between them by snaking his arms around her waist. She sighed against his mouth, inadvertently giving him permission to slip his tongue inside to intermingle with hers.

It was nice. Pleasant, even. Warmth spread through her cheeks and burned a path down her chest, yet just as quickly as it had happened, he was pulling away, his cheeks and ears flushed pink.

"We shouldn't," he said hastily, taking a step back as though she'd burned him.

Still in a daze, she must have had a questioning look as he gave a vehement shake of his head. "No, it isn't right. Not even here."

It took several baffling moments of confusion to process exactly what was happening. "What do you mean, not even here?"

However, he didn't answer her. One moment he was standing there, looking uncomfortable and shaken, and the next, he was gone. No warning, not even a puff of smoke as lingering proof that he had been there at all.

And it was at that exact moment that she realized nothing around her was real. The scene shifted, Haven's chantry suddenly altering to become a mass of burning rubble under the night sky. Then, like a rock being thrown and causing a ripple in a lake, her surroundings changed again. She was in the past once more, her arms strewn above her head. Eyes flying wide in terror, she watched as her peers, her friends, howled in pain as they underwent the agonizing transition into Abominations.

Gasping, she shot up, panic causing her breath to come out in rapid pants. Her eyes were everywhere as she took in the final rays of sunlight spilling through floor-to-ceiling windows, a fur rug lining more than half of the spacious bedroom in front of the lit fireplace, and a few bits of furniture adorning the extra corners of space.

She was back in Skyhold, the present, though she had to pinch her arm several times just to be sure.

Another dream. She'd been having reoccurring nightmares for so long that perhaps that was why she hadn't thought to question being back in Haven, in a peaceful little village in the middle of nowhere.

When the gripping fear subsided and she no longer felt like her heart would burst from her chest, she placed a tentative touch to her lips. Despite knowing otherwise, that kiss had certainly felt real. She could almost still taste the faint remnants of honey water and berries.

Groaning softly, she laid back on the pillows and covered her eyes with her hands. She'd kissed Solas. Fade-kissed a dream version of him, but a kiss no less. Someone had told her once before that dreams were manifestations of either one's greatest fears or greatest desires. If that were the case, it was so…weird.

Solas was attractive, of course. He was more beautiful than handsome with an acute intelligence that never failed to amaze her. More than that, she was always drawn to him on a philosophical level. He challenged her way of thinking, and she enjoyed listening to his endless tales of his journeys through the Fade. However, she couldn't recall a single moment since meeting him where she had thought about doing anything remotely intimate with him.

Now Cullen on the other hand…

No, even that was wrong. The commander had been polite after formally apologizing to her on the battlements, though nothing more. That hadn't seemed to matter one bit to her brain as she'd spent far too much time watching him from a distance. Even before his apology, she'd kept to herself, though she would find herself admiring him from afar. They hadn't even had a friendly, one-on-one conversation since he'd chased her on the frozen lake several weeks ago. She was convinced her attraction was just a one-sided passing fancy, but it was taking far too long to actually pass.

If that wasn't bad enough, she'd have to find a way to cope with being interested in another man at the same time.

She grunted, and when her hands failed in scrubbing away the memory of Fade-Solas' kiss, she covered her face entirely with one pillow.

That look of utter dismay on his face just before disappearing was proof that he was just as put off by the kiss as she was. Despite that, what bothered her most was that she didn't regret it one bit. In fact, she'd enjoyed it far more than she ever thought she would.

That only made the entire situation so much worse. She would have to face him eventually, but what in the Maker's name would she say? What could she say? Yes, he'd been the one to initiate the kiss, but she had been right there to meet him head on. And if she were being entirely truthful, a part of her wished it would have continued for much longer.

Pressing the pillow even tighter against her face, she muffled another groan of frustration. That does it. She wasn't even going to bring it up to him. She was going to pretend it never happened and continue about her business like normal. If he so happened to pull her aside and mention it, then they could talk about it, but until then, she was determined to not let it become a distraction.

Right, because that was always easier said than done.