It was mid-afternoon when we arrived at the Inquisition's camp. The rest of the caravan was already there; the animals and soldiers having been fed before they were to continue their journey. They were repacking supplies when we came upon them. Captain Rylen was in the middle of giving instructions, but stopped when he saw us approaching.

"Commander," Rylen saluted. The rest of the camp followed suit. Cullen returned the salute, allowing everyone to be at ease. A couple of younger soldiers came to take our horses to feed, water and brush them down before setting them out to graze nearby in a makeshift pen. The carts they had been pulling were tied to the wagons strapped to the druffalo. As that all was being seen to, Rylen approached Cullen and I.

The two men clasped arms, "It's good to see you, Commander."

"And you, Captain," Cullen gave a nod, "I apologize for my absence. It was far longer than I intended to be away. How are things back in Haven?"

"You were seeing to important affairs, ser," Rylen assured in his thick Starkhaven accent, "Though, the soldiers have missed their Commander's drills." Rylen smirked and got a laugh from Cullen.

"I'm sure they have," Cullen chuckled, "I'll put them through the paces as a celebration of my return."

Rylen chuckled before his eyes landed on me. "I do not believe we've actually been introduced yet. You'll have to forgive the Commander's horrid manners; he is after all, Fereldan. Though I'm sure they tried, the Chantry Sisters didn't seem to be able to discipline it out of him."

I chuckled at Cullen's obvious embarrassment. It was evident Rylen respected and even admired his Commander, but that didn't seem to keep him from giving Cullen a good ribbing.

"Rylen, this is Meira," Cullen introduced me, his voice warm, "We were at Kinloch Hold, Ferelden's Circle tower, together before I was transferred to Kirkwall."

"It's a pleasure, my lady," Rylen gave a friendly smile, "I hear you made quite the impression on the local farmers."

I blushed, "I simply wanted to help, so I did all I could while we were there."

"There's nothing simple about wanting to help people, lass," Rylen said seriously, "Especially in these times."

"Thank you, Captain," I dipped my chin. I looked between the two men, "How is it that you two know each other?"

"He hasn't told you about me?" Rylen asked incredulously, "The pain my heart just felt! And I thought I meant something to you, Commander!" Rylen took on the tone of a jilted lover. My brows shot up and I laughed. Cullen's face was bright red at Rylen's insinuation and his eyes held the promise of death. I had no doubt Rylen would pay for his comments later, but it was obvious the man didn't care.

"Captain Rylen and I worked together in Kirkwall," Cullen began to explain, his eyes still murderous, "After the explosion at the Chantry and the fall of the Circle, the city was a war zone and ruin. Disloyal templars, abominations, a displaced populace and people trapped amongst the rubble names just a few of the problems that followed. Starkhaven sent templars to aid in the clean up, rescue missions and putting things back in order."

"We met in the middle of that," Rylen cut in, "The then Knight-Commander Cullen was leading the few loyal templars of Kirkwall to flush out any remaining abominations. At the same time, he had been working with the City Guard to keep people safe. We'd been assisting the Guard up to that point, as the templars had been preoccupied with the chaos at the Gallows. Once we met, we coordinated our efforts to make the process far smoother. Then the war broke out and my Knight-Commander wanted to follow Lord Seeker Lambert. I refused and many under my command did as well. Before leaving for Haven, Cullen offered me a place as his second within the Inquisition. I and my fellow templars agreed. Our Commander is a good man, capable leader and even better soldier." Cullen got flustered at the other man's praise as he obviously respected Rylen in return.

"That he is," I nodded, "The Inquisition's forces are in excellent hands." Rylen smiled at me and looked between Cullen and I. I glanced at Cullen, who's hand had stilled. He'd been in the middle of rubbing that spot on the back of his neck. His eyes were on me, disbelief in their light.

"Alright, enough with the mushy stuff," Rylen cleared his throat, "Commander, if you would." Rylen gestured for Cullen to follow him. "It was good to meet you, Meira. We look forward to your return in Haven."

"And you, Captain," I inclined my head.

...

Cullen and Rylen caught each other up on everything in the span of an hour. Cullen, Rylen and Mother Giselle had a short conversation before the men addressed how Mother Giselle was to be looked after on the road back. Cullen looked over a few pressing reports Rylen had for him, gave Rylen his decisions and saw the caravan off.
Once finished, Cullen's focus turned to catching up on correspondences, looking over requisitions an officer had received from Threnn, and inspecting the troops within the camp. He found everything in good order and let the troops resume their work. While he had been seeing to his duties, I had stayed within eyesight of the camp to collect any medicinal plants I could find.
My arms laden with my haul, I returned as the sun started to dip below the horizon. I placed the plants in one of my saddle bags before working my way towards the smell of cooking meat. Cullen was hunched over the requisition table, a few candles burning down to provide him light. He was scratching notes, shuffling papers around and looking over a map of the Hinterlands.
The soldiers not on patrol were seated around the campfire, where a spit sat over the flames roasting a ram. Portions were sliced off and passed around, along with some rye bread and cheese. I grabbed two plates and carried one over to where Cullen still worked in the dying candlelight.
I sat the plate on a corner of the table and glanced over what he was working on. He had sketches of fortifications he was wanting to make to Haven: timber fencing, trebuchets, a system for sounding an alarm were just a few of his ideas. He'd also drawn out an idea for the barn and pens to keep Dennet's horses and the druffalo in once they arrived. His sketches were decent - he had enough skill that I knew what I was looking at and where in Haven he wanted to put things.

"Judging my skills, Meira?" he asked, causing me to jump at the sound of his voice.

I met his eyes and found a smirk on his lips before I answered, "Not judging, but admiring."

"Would you mind redrawing them for me? I want to make sure they're understood," he asked, his voice low. His gaze found the food and blinked. I picked up the plate and held it out to him. "I - Thank you," he murmured.

"I'll redraw them as you eat," I ordered. I realized I hadn't seen him eat anything all day. He chuckled, but agreed. I finished up my plate before pulling the various pieces of parchment to myself.
I worked with what he had drawn, smoothing lines and clarifying depth. I added details and verified with Cullen that I was capturing what he had in mind. He would agree or request changes, until he was satisfied. A soldier had come to take our plates while I'd been drawing. Cullen had resumed going over reports while I finished.

"It's going to be an early start tomorrow," Cullen stated once we'd finished. "Better get some rest while we can. May I walk you to your tent?"

I nodded and we stood. It was the same tent in which Solas had healed my arrow wound. That afternoon felt like an eternity ago as Cullen held the flap open for me. "I'm going to miss our cabin," I murmured as I turned back to Cullen.

His eyes turned molten, "As will - that is, that...erm, yes." He blushed scarlet and looked away.

I gave a small laugh, "You can say you will too, Cullen. I know what you mean and know your thoughts are entirely innocent." I met his eyes. His gaze softened and he gave me a bashful smile.

"I'm just glad we had that time," he murmured. "It was needed."

"It was," I agreed. I kept my eyes on his and we stood there for a moment until Cullen cleared his throat.

"I will be in the tent next to y - that is, if you need anything - Maker's breath," he swore.

I snickered, "Are you trying to invite me to your tent, Commander?" I had to hold in my laughter as his face went from pink, to white and finished in a deep crimson. His mouth opened and closed. "I'm sorry, I'm teasing you. If I have need of anything, I know where to find you. Thank you for walking me to my tent. Goodnight, Cullen." I tugged on his fur of his cloak before turning back to my tent.

"Goodnight, Meira," he whispered.

...

The next morning saw us packing supplies for our trip back. I thanked the Maker we had horses, as our trip would only take a few days instead of a week. Cullen assured we would be safe going back as he was having Rylen place soldiers at intervals along the main road as they worked their way north to Haven.
Cullen hoped with the soldiers in place, it would deter any bandits, but would also allow word of the Inquisition to spread.
Cullen gave that as his reason for he and I traveling back alone - he'd wanted them to go on ahead to get into place. He would inspect them when we reached their locations and give further instructions. He also didn't want he and Rylen to be traveling together in case the party was attacked - the Inquisition couldn't lose both its military heads at once. I was with him as extra protection.
We did our best to not take any breaks, but I had to get out of the saddle every so often. The pain wasn't nearly as bad as it had been during Dennet's lessons back on the farm, but it wasn't much better. We'd stop, Cullen would help me down and then I'd walk alongside the horse for a ways to stretch before getting back up. I did find the riding enjoyable, aside from the pain.
We met the occasional traveler on their way to Haven to join the Inquisition. When we did, Cullen would offer his thanks. We spent most of our time in comfortable silence or talking about various things.
We'd speak of the Inquisition, of the time between Kirkwall and now, reminisce about our time in the Circle before everything that happened and anything else that came to mind. Cullen was far more at ease when away from prying eyes and ears, but he still got easily flustered. I prayed to Andraste that it was a sign of reciprocated feelings and not just my imaginings.

"Do you still play chess, Cullen?" I asked as it was nearing lunchtime. "I remember you holding weekly tournaments with the other templars. No one could ever seem to beat you."

Cullen readjusted in his saddle and chuckled, "If I recall no one ever did, not even Greagoir."

"When did you learn to play?" I quirked a brow.

"My father and Mia played, it was one of father's favorite pastimes," Cullen explained, "When I was old enough, they taught me how to play. It gave them another challenger. Mia would get this stuck-up grin whenever she won - which was all the time. My brother and I practiced together for weeks once he was old enough. The look on her face the day I finally won..." His own stuck-up smirk appeared and then he chuckled, "Father quickly knocked me down a peg after, though." His smirk fell, "I wonder if she still plays."

"Do you have a chess set?" I probed, "You should keep in practice for when you see Mia again."

His eyes met mine, "Actually, I do not. The set I had was lost in Kirkwall." A frown pulled on his lips, "I haven't played in some time now that I think about it. I would feel it...inappropriate to play in our current circumstances."

"I understand," I nodded, "If you should get another set, promise me a match, would you? I need a rematch after you annihilated me last time."

"I remember that night," he chortled, "I was patrolling the library and you were on book return duty. We set up the board on one of the study tables and we'd play until we heard someone coming. You'd scramble to hide the game and dash around the library like a madwoman to make it look as though you were actually working when they passed through."

"You'd be scarlet to your ears and stammer if someone addressed you," I retorted, "and I wonder why the entire tower gossiped about us secretly being together?"

"They...gossiped about us?" Cullen asked, his face startled.

"Are you serious?" I huffed a laugh, "You didn't hear the rumors?"

"N-no," he stammered, "I tried not to be a part of the rumor mill."

"Try as you might, you were at the center of it a lot of the time," I smiled, wickedly.

"Andraste, preserve me," he breathed. "Whatever for?"

"Oh please, Cullen," I sighed and rolled my eyes, "Why do you think? Did you own a mirror in the tower? Aside from your Maker blessed face, you were kind."

"Well I - that doesn't mean -," he stammered some more, his face red, "Maker's breath."

I chuckled at his discomfort. "What do you expect, Cullen? You keep a bunch of men and women together every day - beauty among them a rarity - you don't think there's daydreaming or secret affairs that happen? Wether they're in armor or robes? You and I both felt it inappropriate, but not everyone shared that mentality."

"I - I suppose," he mumbled, "I just...didn't like breaking rules."

"And look at you now," I smirked, "What would those Chantry Sisters have to say?"

"Oh, Maker," he blanched, "They'd probably kill me." He flashed me an impish grin. "I guess it's that Fereldan nature of mine."

I howled a laugh.

We stopped for the night in a small town, working our way to the local inn. Cullen greeted the Inquisition soldiers that had been stationed there. He passed off his instructions for them to keep an eye on the road, to send regular updates as to any suspicious activity and spread word of the Inquisition's efforts. The scouts saluted Cullen and pointed us in the direction of the inn, which would be able to house our horses as well.
There was evidence of the mage-templar war in the town, but not near what the Crossroads had shown. The people were friendly, but downtrodden. Cullen held the door open as we entered the inn, after we'd seen the horses off to a stableboy. Cullen kept a hand on the small of my back as we worked our way through the full tavern. Eyes were on us and I was thankful for my hood that kept me mostly hidden.
The inn keeper greeted Cullen, told him there was a single room available and named his price. Cullen handed him the coin and the inn keeper showed us to our lodgings. It was a modest room: a single bed, a chest of drawers, a desk and chair. A few candles and torches burned as moonlight streamed in through the holes for windows.

"You can have the bed," Cullen nodded towards the item in question, adjusting his bedroll he had tucked under his arm, "I'll sleep on the floor or in the chair, as I have reports to write." His lips pulled up in one corner. "Speaking of which, I should probably have you write a report of the duties you've preformed while we've been away." He set his bedroll down before putting a hand inside the roll. I watched as he grabbed for something inside and held it out to me. It was a leather-bound bundle of parchment. "For you."

I glanced from the bundle to his face and could tell he was fighting a smile. Gingerly, I took the bundle from his hand. Unwrapping the leather strip that tied the covers down, I opened the front to find dozens of blank pieces of parchment bound to the leather, slots with chalk on the inside of the front cover and a pocket sown in the inside back cover. The leather was soft, the craftsmanship of excellent skill. It was a sketchbook, he'd given me a sketchbook. "When - why - how...Cullen, thank you."

"You're welcome," he murmured, his eyes warm as they looked over my face. "You've worked too hard to think you can't ask for parchment and chalk. I took the liberty of requesting that Harritt make it for you. Rylen brought it to me when he came to the Crossroads."

I continued to admire the gift as I sat on the bed. Cullen had set to work on writing his reports, his empty plate from dinner set aside. I glanced over him. He'd taken off that ridiculous fur cloak, draping it over the back of the chair; I didn't want to admit the thing was growing on me the more I saw him in it. He was down to his leather doublet, tunic and his leather pants and boots.
With his attention elsewhere, I started to draw him - honoring his gift by making him the first entry in it. I did my best to capture what my eyes saw: his curled hair, slight stubble and masculine features; the muscles of his forearms tight beneath the tanned skin revealed as he pushed his sleeves up. His strong hands: his right thumb brushing the scar on his lip as he pondered what he was going to write.
The rigid curves of his muscled body stretching his clothing taut - evidence of his discipline; the curve of his collarbone as his unbuttoned shirt let the candlelight cast shadows where the bone peaked out - evidence to his relaxed state. The set of his jaw showed his concentration, the curve of his shoulders revealing the weight of his burden as commander, his posture displayed his dedication, but a softness in his eyes and mouth made it obvious how much he cared about his role.
I worked until the candles were almost spent and blinked when I finished. I wasn't one to consider my own work skillful, but I realized I could not show him this drawing. I'd captured him yes, but I'd also captured my heart in the emotion I'd poured into the lines and shading. The chair groaned as he shifted in the seat and I jumped, hurriedly closing the book.

"I didn't expect you to set to work on a report tonight, Meira," he chuckled as his golden eyes found mine.

"I thought I'd get a head start," I muttered, trying to fight the blush that was creeping up my cheeks.

"While a good work ethic is appreciated, you would do better to get some sleep," he chided, good-naturedly.

"I will. Goodnight." I placed the sketchbook on the chest of drawers and slipped under the covers. I had readied myself for bed prior to drawing Cullen. I turned my back to him and felt my cheeks as they burned the more I thought about the drawing.

"Goodnight," he returned.

...

Our next few days were spent much the same. We'd travel during the day, stopping only when we had to and sleep at an inn during the night. He felt safer staying in inns since it was only he and I, versus camping on the road as we'd done on our way to the Crossroads. Since the Inquisition was also being seen in a more positive light, people were far more accommodating than they had been previously.
When I asked him where his coin was from, he said he'd saved up what he could while he was a templar. He'd sent some to his family, but admitted it wasn't as much as he should have. Eventually, he would be paid for his duties as Commander, but only if the Inquisition got the funds to pay its people. For now, we were an organization of volunteers, but he believed that would change sooner rather than later.

The afternoon before we'd arrive in Haven, he called for us to stop. He led us off the road a bit, hobbled the horses and turned to me. "I wanted to show you a few close-quarters moves while we have a moment. These are more for self-defense than anything, but I feel you should know them. I want to test out teaching them to you before I implement them into the recruits' training exercises." I stood before him. He came close to me, unsheathing his dagger. "First, hammer strikes. Hold the dagger's grip in your palm with the blade facing towards your attacker. Thrust your corresponding hip forward as you strike with your hand from overhead like you're using a hammer. Sharp, fast and powerful. Aim for the joints in armor up high if they're wearing some."

He demonstrated the move a few times and then had me try. He got behind me, raised my arm and adjusted my footing by gently pushing my stance further apart with his own foot. I tried a few more times and he nodded. He did the same with showing me various kicks, palm and elbow strikes, and escaping certain grips.

"These are all assuming that your adversary is unarmed and you're unarmed with your mana depleted," he explained, "However, they could still be useful even with both those factors still in play. I maintain that it's better for you to fight at a distance, but the most important thing if you do have to fight close is to keep yourself balanced. Strike at weak points such as the face, throat, groin and gut. Use your strong points such as elbows and knees and do it quickly. Give them no time to think or react. I want you to start adding these to your daily exercises...uh, that is if you would."

I nodded, "Thank you."

We ate lunch quickly before setting off again. We met the rest of the soldiers stationed along the way, Cullen stopping to give his instructions before pressing on. We also met a few more people that were headed to Haven to join the Inquisition.
Dusk was painting the sky as we passed through Haven's outer gates. Soldiers at the entrance saluted Cullen as we passed, following the trail to the main gates. A few recruits came up and took our horses to stable them in a pole-barn that had quickly been assembled. Cullen informed me that he and I would need to meet with Leliana and Josephine in the morning to debrief them about our time on the farmland. He bid me goodnight and headed for his tent.
I worked my way to my cabin; it felt like years since I had slept there. Opening the door as quietly as I could, I was tackled in a hug by Minaeve and Bethany. I laughed and even got misty eyed. I felt as my heart twisted at how much I'd missed my friends. All plans to sleep were forgotten as we, like three teenage girls, stayed awake to catch each other up on everything that had happened since I'd left.

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