Summary:

Cullen hadn't been prepared for her to be here; the last time he saw her, he had expected it to be the last. He'd seared the brand onto her forehead, he'd watched as the life left her eyes. Yet, here she was; standing in the freezing cold, looking up at him with no emotion, the sun-shaped brand just as angry as it had been that day. He felt the guilt weigh heavy in his heart.

"I shall endeavor not to bother you again," she states in reply to whatever gruff remark he had just made.

"Maker, hear my cry," Cullen begs in his mind as he watches her walk away, "If there is any way to undo what has been done, let it be so."

He never stopped caring for her, and she endured so much to try and care for him.

Both carry chains of the past, broken under the weight of them. Neither expects the other to love them.

Will the hole in the sky lead to their unbreaking?

It was always the same. The same quiet, yawning chasm of emptiness gnawing at my brain. I knew it was unnatural to be without emotions and yet, I could not feel them.

Minaeve's large, brown eyes flicked up to the Chantry's sun-shaped brand stamped on my forehead for the fifth time as she read over some reports. Sitting within the inner rooms of Haven's Chantry, the stone walls muffled the sounds of the activity out in the main hall as people moved about to prepare for the Conclave. Divine Justinia had called the Conclave in hopes of bringing an end to the fighting between the Circle Mages and Templar Order. Fighting that had been sparked after the destruction of the Chantry in Kirkwall by a rogue mage; or by the templars' cruel treatment of the mages in Kirkwall, depending on who was recounting the events that had occurred in the Free Marches.

Minaeve's eyes flicked up at my brand again.

"Does it bother you?" I asked, my voice monotone.

I watched as Minaeve's features shifted into embarrassment and concern.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't stare," she apologized, "No, it doesn't bother me. I just...this report is about other Tranquil mages that have not been accounted for since the rebellion."

"I see. I do not find it surprising that the Tranquil are not looked after. Few are like you, Minaeve, befriending us - most find us repulsive."

Minaeve's small mouth turned to a frown, her eyes filling with sadness.

"No one is willing to see past your lack of emotions to see your focus, intelligence and other abilities that only come from being made Tranquil."

"Perhaps in time, I will be able to learn how to better mimic emotions and inflections."

I listened as a laugh escaped, "I suppose you will, but most people seem to find that more...," she paused searching for the word.

"Unnatural," I stated, deducing what she was trying to say.

"Yes," she chuckled and then placed a hand on my arm, "Neria, here you are welcome and protected. The Inquisition is doing its best to help and understands that all have value."

I stared blankly at Minaeve, who in turn, sighed.

"Not everyone has been welcoming, Minaeve. There are some that have made unkind remarks and others who avoid us entirely."

While Minaeve's statement was true that the Tranquil who had arrived at Haven were not turned away from the Inquisition, we were still met with disdain. People would avoid our eyes, quickly leave the room if they were alone with us or give a wide berth as we walked past. One person took great pains to avoid me in particular.

"Neria, the only way you can find out why Commander Rutherford avoids you is by asking him yourself."

"He would evade me if I tried approaching him."

"Then approach him where he can't evade you. Honestly, you would think you had a crush on him the way you go on about him."

"It is illogical to me. Discomfort and disgust I can reason, but total avoidance coupled with all the bodily indications of embarrassment, guilt, shame and shyness I can not. It is too many things at once."

"Alright, stop dissecting him."

"I am not dissecting him."

"Sarcasm, Neria."

"Oh, yes."

"No matter what, if you want to know you will have to ask him."

She turned away from me and took a stack of reports from another Tranquil elf that had entered the room.

"That course of action is inadvisable," I stated.

She sighed again before letting the stack of reports thud onto the desk, "Ugh, fine. Then make yourself useful and help me finish going through these reports."

—

"Neria, this stack needs to go to Commander Rutherford," Minaeve handed me a neat stack of papers, mischief glittering in her eyes.

"You are being manipulative," I stated.

She didn't deny it, but simply shrugged before pushing me towards the office door, "And you are going."

"I will deliver these reports to him, but I will not ask him."

"Maybe he will bring it up himself?" she questioned.

"That would be convenient."

"Most convenient. Now get going."

I wrapped my arms around the reports to keep them from falling to the ground as Minaeve shoved me out the door. As I walked past the room that Seeker Cassandra and Divine Justinia were occupying, I heard arguing.

"I don't understand why you are asking this of us. We are your Left and Right Hands! We should be there to protect you!" Cassandra's heavily accented voice shouted.

"No. I want you both here - protecting the people. They are more important. Do not forget that it is you I have trusted to call the Inquisition should the need arise," Justinia's older, distinguished voice rebutted calmly.

As I walked down the main hall of the Chantry, the heavy wooden door to the room was slammed shut. I observed the templars and mages filling the small candlelit hall, a few sitting in the pews that had been shoved against the walls. They were completely separated, only sharing glares and looks of mutual hatred. Some glanced at me as I walked by, their faces contorting with disgust or pity. I was a reminder of what the templars could do and how troublesome a mage could be. However, I could not remember why I had been made Tranquil. I continued to walk, meeting the harsh cold as I passed the Chantry doors. I had forgotten how cold the Ferelden winters could be, the years inside the Circle keeping me warm. I watched as the blowing snow rustled the fur at the ends of my sleeves, finding it perplexing that we still wore Circle robes despite there no longer being a Circle after Grand Enchanter Fiona and the others had voted for mage freedom. I observed the people as they were bustling about, running errands, getting settled. The scents of fresh bread and spices wafted from the tavern as I passed by, hearing the laughter of children and the barking of Mabari in the distance.

As I approached the outer gate, the clang of swords and the blacksmith's hammer could be heard. The wooden gates were swung open to the worn trail leading to where the recruits were training. The grounds outside the village were covered in tents from all the attendees of the Conclave. Templars, mages, elves, dwarves and even qunari were among the throngs of people. Every language could be heard in the snippets of conversations coming from the tents that I passed by before reaching the training grounds. Commander Rutherford stood among the recruits, shouting different orders. His back was to me, so he did not see my approach. The clang of swords was nearly deafening as I walked closer to him.

I spoke his name, but he had begun shouting at a recruit.

"You there, there's a shield in your hand, block with it. If this man were your enemy, you'd be dead," he chastised.

I tried again, but he did not hear, instead turning to a templar that stood to his right, "Lieutenant, don't hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practice one."

"Yes, Commander," the templar saluted before heading off to instruct a pair of the recruits that were dueling.

I walked closer still, "Commander Rutherford."

He startled and turned towards me, his amber eyes wide, "Sweet Maker," he gasped, almost too quietly for me to hear.

His eyes looked me up and down as the usual emotions played on his face. He let his eyes fall, "What do you need? If it's about reports, you should have taken them to my tent and been on your way. I am very busy."

He was gruff and rude, but I did not react instead saying, "I apologize, Commander Rutherford. Minaeve told me to bring them to you directly, I shall endeavor not to bother you again."

Cullen's dark brows furrowed and he glanced at me. He searched my face as if trying to find something, when he didn't find it his eyes found mine, "No, it is I who should apologize. I will take the reports from you. It's frigid out, get back inside before you become ill."

Cullen reached for the reports, and tucked them neatly under his arm, hesitating before speaking to me again, "Thank you for bringing these to me, Neria. Now, please, go back inside."

"I was not aware that the Commander knew my name," I stated.

Cullen's eyes widened once again, "Minaeve must have mentioned it. Now go on, I have much to do before tomorrow."

With that he turned his back on me again and walked off to the other end of the training grounds.

I turned and headed back to the Chantry.

—

"Foolish, arrogant woman!" Cassandra yelled as she stomped through the door to Josephine's office. Cassandra's dark eyes were alight with fury, her face contorted in rage.

"Calm down, Cassandra," Leliana's voice sighed as the petite Spymaster entered close behind. Her bobbed, red hair swayed as she shook her head at Cassandra's temper.

"I know you feel the same as I, Leliana. What is she thinking? We are her greatest defense!" Cassandra fumed.

"She's wanting to appear open, vulnerable. Yes, we're her greatest defense, but we also send the wrong message for what she is trying to accomplish. After all, we are rather intimidating."

"Ha! As if that were a bad thing," Cassandra grimaced.

"It is when you're wanting to be the mediator of peaceful negotiations, Cassandra."

Cassandra rolled her dark eyes and stomped out of the room.

"That woman is a hurricane of fury," Josephine sighed as she resumed scratching notes with her quill at her desk.

"I agree. Her heart is in the right place, though. I understand Divine Justinia's decision, but I don't agree with it," Leliana offered as she perched on Josephine's desk. Josephine's normally kind face turned sour at Leliana sitting on her desk, but Leliana stuck her tongue out in dismissal.

"You're just not in the habit of dismembering practice dummies when you're angry," I observed, as Cassandra had done. All eyes turned to me. Leliana smirked, Josephine giggled and Minaeve laughed. I looked at each of them in turn.

"True," said Leliana, her blue eyes studying me, "I do have a bit more tact."

Everyone laughed, except me.

—

"Are you going to finish that?" Minaeve mumbled through a full mouth, pointing at the bowl of beans before me. Always beans, as we were low on meat. I pushed the bowl to Minaeve who began eating it as if she hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Why do you eat so much?" I asked.

"I was practicing my magic and that always takes a lot of energy out of me."

"I see. I recall you saying you're not very skilled with magic."

Her eyes flashed with mock hurt, "No, I'm not very good, but it doesn't hurt to practice."

"That is true."

"Do you remember what it was like to use magic?"

"Yes and no. I remember having magic, but not how it felt."

Minaeve didn't know how to respond to that, so she focused on her food. I stayed with her until she had finished eating and then we both stood to leave the tavern. As we approached the door, Commander Rutherford opened it. There were shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there earlier and a fresh bruise over his cheek. His eyes shifted to mine. I did not look away. Neither did he.

"Excuse us, Commander," Minaeve apologized, shyly.

"My apologies," he nodded, shifting to hold the door open for us, but his eyes didn't leave mine, "Actually, Minaeve, may I speak with Neria?"

Minaeve glanced my way before answering, "Of course, Commander."

At that, Minaeve walked out the tavern door, leaving the Commander and I looking at each other.

"Would you join me for a walk?" he asked.

I looked into his amber eyes, they were soft and his face sad, but the other emotions - guilt and shame - were gone. I nodded.

"First, I must apologize to you. I have not been very polite or kind to you," he said softly as we walked slowly along the curve of the frozen lake.

"I am used to not being liked. Tranquil mages are seen as subspecies. I understand the discomfort others feel around me; I suppose I felt the same prior to being made Tranquil."

"Do you...do you remember when you were made Tranquil?"

"No. I am grateful, it would be troubling to have memories of that. Would you agree?" I looked into his eyes, but he looked quickly away, guilt lining his features, "Why do you look at me like that?"

"I-I..." he rubbed the back of his neck, but didn't meet my eyes when he said, "I just feel sorry for you - for all the Tranquil."

"Why?"

"I can't imagine living life without emotions, without...feeling."

"I can't imagine life with them. I remember them, but I find I have more clarity, more focus without the hinderance of emotions."

After I said that, he gently grabbed my arm and turned me to face him. Staring intently into my eyes, he lifted a hand as if to cup my cheek, but instead he said, "I have to go."

I stared at his figure illuminated by the moonlight until he'd disappeared into the shadows.

Thank you for reading the first chapter!

I know I'm super late to posting for this fandom, but Dragon Age is a true love for me. The world, the characters, the story. Writing The Unbreaking has only made me fall more in love with this fictional world and all the people within it. I was inspired to write this story because of my favorite Dragon Age character, Cullen Rutherford. Cullen is not everyone's favorite, but his story, his character arc, is so compelling for me that I had to write a fic in the hopes of really shining a light on what he went through throughout the games. This goal in mind, I began writing a romance for him that would not only weave through his entire history, but parallel him every step of the way.

As I replayed through each of the games, my original character slowly took shape. Through this fic, I am slowly bringing to life my own original character, and weaving her story not just into Cullen's, but also into the tapestry that is the world of Dragon Age.

In writing their story, I have come to love my own character as much as I adore Cullen and have found my admiration for his character arc grow even deeper. I strive to stay committed to canon as much as possible as I write, but there is some canon-inspired headcanons and creative license to fill in the gaps of the game(s) to translate them into a novel-type story. I also strive to represent these characters as they were originally written by BioWare.

All I can hope is that others will come to cherish my OC and Cullen, their stories, their romance and the world of Dragon Age through it as they read this story.

WARNINGS: While there is no swearing or smut, this story is still intended for more mature audiences as it deals with some dark/difficult themes. I do imply both rape and intimacy without being graphic in depiction with either. The depictions of violence, blood and gore are more graphic.

Faves, follows and reviews are always welcome and appreciated!