Cullen feigned that he'd been up and working long before the mage descended the ladder from the bedroom. Dorian did not need to know that Cullen had barely managed to throw on his mantle and grab a random report.

It had been far too tempting to remain there, curled up next to the warm man in his bed. Even more tempting to wake him by slipping inside and biting the currently unmarked side of his neck.

He had to maintain some level of distance. Not for his image's sake, of course — he was well aware the word had probably already spread throughout Skyhold after kissing him on the battlements the previous night. It wasn't for Dorian's benefit either, as it seemed Dorian was willing to give all of himself now.

It was for Cullen's own safety. This, them, was all the more dangerous the closer they got, and he knew it. He was uncertain if Dorian had noticed, but the more intimate their relationship, the more…synced they were.

Possibly that was in his imagination, yet Cullen was certain it was true. As much as he was finally willing to admit he was attracted to Dorian — well, far more than attracted really — Cullen was starting to be disturbed by how easily he lost his own sense of self around him. More and more his thoughts centered around Dorian. What would his mage think, what does he want, what would surprise him, what would please him — and surely that had to be some effect of their blood bond, as none of that felt like the things on which he should be focusing his attentions.

And even if it was all Cullen…that might be even more dangerous. He couldn't afford to let his world revolve around the mage, and for once it was not for Cullen's sake. They were at war, the world was hanging by a thread, and it was important for him to do his best to keep it from all turning to ash.

Dorian greeted him by ripping the report from his hands and tossing it aside before cupping Cullen's face and kissing him.

Cullen moaned softly, automatically reaching a hand to Dorian's neck as he accepted the kiss without any protest.

"Good morning," Dorian purred as he slowly pulled away.

He was a little less tidy than Cullen usually saw him, his hair a bit mussed and mustache a little less perfectly shaped, but none of it detracted from his beauty. His grey eyes were warm and filled with —.

Fuck, Dorian was looking at Cullen like he was the center of the world.

Cullen cleared his throat, uncomfortably averting his gaze. "We'll be heading out soon. You should probably go pack."

"Mmm, quite," Dorian agreed, though instead of leaving he kissed Cullen softly once more. This time when he pulled back, he tilted his head to emphasize his neck, where indeed Cullen's teeth had left a mark just a touch too high to hide under the collar of his robes.

Cullen felt the flush creeping over his face and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

"I'll just go then," Dorian whispered, trailing a finger pointedly over the mark as his eyes glinted wickedly. He was clearly planning to show it off and was baiting Cullen to beg him to heal or at least conceal it. Cullen really knew Dorian too well. "I'll see you soon, Commander."

Cullen nodded, eyeing the mark again before his mage slipped out the door.

My mage.

The march to Adamant was slow, a necessity of the size of the force along with a consequence of the snow that started to fall around midday. Cullen was busy near the front, though he kept an eye on Dorian whenever he was near. Dorian had, in fact, hidden the mark under a thick scarf, and every time he was close enough to overhear he was complaining about the cold.

Cullen kept catching himself grinning, unable to keep from thinking of how clingy Dorian became at night as he sought to steal any warmth he could from Cullen's body even while entirely asleep.

Maxwell had not approached to prod Cullen about his relationship with Dorian, but considering the distantly blissful expression on his face, he was thinking on more personal pleasures.

The fact Cullen and Dorian were an item was not mentioned to Cullen directly, but he did catch hushed whispers and many curious looks. While his tentative friendship with Dorian had been a curiosity that most dismissed or assumed had to do with wanting to keep an eye on the suspicious Tevinter, an actual relationship was another matter entirely.

However, with some of the conversations he overheard, Cullen did discover that Maxwell had not been the only one who believed the two were secretly lovers this entire time. Far too many of the soldiers under his command appeared to have held the same impression, a few going so far as to place bets on how long it would take for the affair to become public.

He pretended it didn't bother him. It truly didn't, at least not as much as he had thought it would. Dorian had obviously expected that Cullen would prefer they be private, and keeping him on his toes was always gratifying — but Cullen did have other reasons for making their association known.

It solidified his position in the Inquisition, at least as far as the Inquisitor was concerned. The connection would also be of use should any spies get word back to Raleigh — as they discussed in the Fade, they needed some reason for Cullen to be healthy and uncorrupted by red lyrium. Raleigh would assume Dorian had taken the opportunity to put Cullen in thrall, which was not entirely incorrect. Judging by what he knew of his old friend and what Dorian had said of him, Raleigh would be furious. And when he was furious, he was libel to make mistakes.

Finally, and perhaps this was the most pertinent reason for his swift step into the public eye, it would provide him with protection. Dorian couldn't dare actually use his blood magic on Cullen if everyone would recognize immediately that was what was happening.

Cullen was still certain Dorian was perfectly willing to stab him in the back. Whether or not he would was a question he truly couldn't answer, but making the Magister the focus of so much attention would certainly make it more difficult for him to do any such thing should he choose.

A part of Cullen also simply liked the idea of not needing to hide it whenever he wanted to look at his beautiful mage. Part of the act, he pretended, knowing full well he'd gone and committed the most foolish mistake of his life.

He'd fallen in love with him.

He would deny it should anyone ask, grudgingly state that it was physical, just stress relief, that there wasn't anything real — and he would know that was a lie.

And maybe that was okay. Dorian did seem to truly care for Cullen, so even if he turned out to be a traitor to the Inquisition, he would surely do such without any intentional harm to Cullen. He might ruin the Commander, but when it came to it Cullen no longer thought Dorian would deliberately hurt him. The two were connected now anyway, by a means that did not appear to have any cure so they might as well enjoy it.

When Dorian came to his tent that night, Cullen did not bother pretending to be surprised. There was no particular reason for the two not to share a tent, and considering the terrible battle they were heading toward it would be entirely expected for them to take advantage of what time they had.

Dorian insisted on helping him wash, as if Cullen was somehow incapable of bathing. After some weak protests, Cullen submitted and allowed the mage to ease the tension in his shoulders, his back, his legs, not only through thorough washing but with talented fingers expertly massaging out knots.

Cullen nearly quipped about how unusual it seemed for Dorian to have such an expert touch when surely he had slaves to do such a thing back home, but he bit his tongue at the idea of discouraging such treatment in the future. Cullen had never really experienced such pampering before, and he might not be brave enough to admit it to Dorian, but he found he truly enjoyed it.

Instead of words, Cullen tried to show his thanks through a kiss to rival any previous. Neither had dressed, which fit perfectly with the other manner in which Cullen would like to show his appreciation. Cullen pulled Dorian fully against him, moaning a little without feeling embarrassed by it as he licked into the mage's mouth. He let one hand drift down between the firm curve of Dorian's asscheeks, fully intending to prepare him when Dorian suddenly broke the kiss.

"Not tonight," the mage breathed, maneuvering a hand between them and pushing Cullen back by the chest. "Let me take care of you," Dorian requested, those talented hands drifting tantalizingly over Cullen's damp and oiled skin.

"You already did that," Cullen pointed out. One of Dorian's hands slipped low on his ass and Cullen tensed. "What more did you have in mind?" he asked with a shaky grin.

Dorian's smile was like the sun, warm and inviting. "Let me make you feel good, Commander," he purred before kissing him, the press of his lips gentle and fleeting. "Trust me."

Cullen hesitated. "Make me…why?" he asked, shivering as Dorian's hands continued exploring him.

Dorian's lovely eyes twinkled like stars, his smile unwavering. "I want to."

As much as Cullen preferred being the dominant one, fond of the violence that seemed all too natural during all their previous encounters, it was astonishing to find how wonderful it felt to feel loved.

To be loved.

It was probably a consequence of all the fucked up shit Cullen had gone through in Kinloch and Kirkwall, but he'd never felt adored when someone dropped to their knees before him, never felt every touch like a praise, nor every kiss like a promise. He had never realized how being intimately stretched and filled could be purest pleasure and manifest devotion rather than simply heated passion and rough claiming.

If Cullen hadn't been in love with Dorian already, he likely would have been by the time Dorian eased out. Every inch of him was relaxed but lightly tingling, satisfying waves of warmth continuing to flow beneath his skin. Dorian did not need to steal Cullen's heat that night; Cullen instead immediately moved to curl into him, holding him close as the two drifted toward sleep.

The fact Dorian could be so tender and doting with him was…frightening. Because in the moment, instead of feeling like it was wrong, that he surely didn't deserve such a thing, that a mage couldn't possibly want him to feel like he was the only thing that mattered in the world, he felt every bit Dorian's—.

"Amatus," Dorian sighed into his ear, kissing it lightly before breathing a few more whispered words in Tevene that Cullen did not know.

He was alarmingly certain of what they meant, though — but he did not dare reply until he was entirely certain Dorian had fallen asleep.

"I love you, too," he breathed into the chilly air, closing his eyes and eagerly meeting up with Dorian again in dreams.

The march was appropriately exhausting, so even in Dorian's bedroom they simply curled up together in the warmth of the Tevinter night. It was unfamiliar, but comforting, to be so vulnerable and yet…oddly safe.

It was a strange thing to realize, but there was no denying it: he was happy.

Maybe Cullen did deserve to feel loved, at least once.

Cullen naturally woke first, but this time decided to give into the urge to wake Dorian in a decidedly fun way. He was careful not to wake Dorian as he slowly reached for that wonderful, scented oil Dorian had used generously the previous night.

Dorian initially made noises of discontent, pulling a pillow over his head and squirming before he seemed to wake enough to realize how Cullen was fully pressed against his back, taking it slow as he moved inside him, a hand gently stroking in time with his shallow thrusts.

He appeared a bit startled as he moved to look at Cullen over his shoulder, but the way his subsequent smile lit his eyes was more than reassuring.

It could be wonderful to love, too.

It all seemed very peculiar, not quite sitting right in Cullen's head as his mind struggled to accept this bizarre new dynamic. The timing was terrible, of course; they were literally marching off to war and only now managed to be properly together, like perhaps they had always been destined.

Cullen was starting to get dangerously used to it as the next few days and nights went by, all while they steadily moved closer to a siege that could potentially ruin — or finish — everything.

He'd had the thought of an after, a startling one that struck him in the middle of discussing part of their plans with Maxwell. They were about halfway to Adamant now, and as much as he'd rather simply bask in the strangely happy glow of being in a real relationship, they had serious business to get on with. Maxwell still hadn't teased him for it, but he did have an amused twinkle in his eye whenever he looked up from the siege plans.

"If this is successful, Corypheus won't have much army left," Max said. "There are the red templars, probably still some Venatori out there, but…Commander, I think we might actually win this war."

And if they won, what would happen to them? Dorian would surely go back to Tevinter — he had a life, a home, even a career.

Cullen didn't really have any of that outside the Inquisition.

Maybe…maybe Cullen could go with him?

Being surrounded by powerful and free mages all the time, in a land where blood magic was common…surely it would be dangerous. The idea was madness.

But he'd have Dorian.

It was a stupid thought, really. Dorian probably had some wealthy fiancée back home, or at least, he probably should. Being a Magister would come first, once the end of the world was avoided.

Still, Cullen wondered….

He thought about dropping hints, trying to carefully get a sense of what Dorian had planned for after all this. Surely he'd had some sort of plan when he'd come south, after all.

Maxwell cut the meeting short, possibly because Cullen was distracted and distant. He headed back to his tent, trying to determine how he could gently nudge a little truth from his intoxicating mage.

Cullen was almost to the tent when he heard a familiar voice — but not in the friendly, teasing manner he was becoming accustomed to.

"I don't like it anymore than you do, but it isn't like we have a choice."

Cullen barely caught the rushed, whispered words. He froze, tilting an ear toward where it seemed to be coming from — behind the tent, not inside it.

"I cannot believe they wanted us both to come with them in the first place," Erimond's voice replied. Cullen grimaced. He didn't like the idea of having the other Magister along either, but he did understand why Maxwell thought it too risky to leave him behind. "Samson will use our absence to his advantage."

Cullen's blood ran cold at the mention of his former friend.

"We have to trust Gereon to look out for our interests," Dorian said calmly. "He won't let that soporati turn Skyhold into his personal fortress."

It took a moment before Cullen could comprehend the words, but when he did, it felt like the world had dropped out from beneath him.

"You really think we can still trust Alexius?"

Dorian chuckled quietly. "Oh, most certainly."

"And your Commander?"

Cullen closed his eyes, focusing to ensure he missed nothing — and also fighting to keep calm.

It wasn't working.

"Hmm?"

"Samson will not be pleased with you — is your hold strong enough now?"

"Of course. I thought our rather public relationship might make it a little too obvious, but if you have to ask, apparently not — he's entirely in thrall."

Cullen's heart beat painfully against his ribcage as his mind struggled to take in the words. He couldn't be hearing what he thought he was. Surely he was misunderstanding. Or maybe he'd drifted off and this was a dream — a normal one, not a visit to Dorian's corner of the Fade.

Because if everything he was hearing was what he was hearing….

He'd known this would happen right from the off. As soon as he awoke from that damned ritual, when he remembered what Dorian had done to him, he'd tried to kill him then and there. He couldn't, he just couldn't be a thrall.

If only Maxwell and Solas hadn't stopped him. If only he hadn't let Dorian back in — because he had. He had wanted it. Just like in that awful version of reality Dorian had concocted — the method was different, but the outcome was the same.

He'd become a Magister's pet, and he'd been foolish enough to think it was part of his own plans.

And though Cullen had been certain Dorian couldn't be trusted…Maker, he didn't suspect he was actively working with the Venatori, and, by the sounds of it, even Raleigh.

"I am certain it will be fine," Erimond was saying. "By the time we return from Adamant, it will be too late."

He'd missed a part of the conversation, he realized with horror. It was difficult to focus with blood thundering in his ears, his heart threatening to break from his chest, his entire body frozen with dreadful shock.

"You should probably get back. Don't want anyone to suspect," Dorian was saying in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Of course."

Cullen and Leliana had been correct. They had both been lying after all.

But what could the purpose be? Alexius should have no power, not with the collar suppressing his magic.

The same sort that Cullen had given Dorian the means to escape.

Cullen backed away, hiding from view as Erimond stalked back toward the mage portion of the encampment. He had to get himself under control, he had to think.

Lyrium. Fuck it all, he needed lyrium. He would be able to focus, maybe even break away from Dorian's enchantments, or at least weaken the mage's hold over him.

"Commander, what a pleasant surprise."

Cullen looked over to where Dorian was peeking around the side of the tent. He couldn't bring himself to say anything at all.

Dorian tilted his head, mouth twitching into a worried frown. "Is everything all right, Cullen?"

Could he say no? Of course not, if he said no then Dorian would want to know what was wrong — but considering the slight knitting of his brow, he already recognized that something was indeed wrong.

The mage slowly came over, reaching out a hand to cup Cullen's cheek. Cullen shut his eyes, barely keeping from flinching away from the touch. "Cullen, tell me. How can I help?" His hand was hot, but comfortingly so — his fingers felt so soft, the tender caress so smooth —.

It was part of his enthrallment. This loving act, it was just that: an act. Dorian didn't love him, of course he didn't. The entire thing had been a game, a ploy, and Alexius had simply played his part in tricking Cullen into believing it.

And Cullen had fallen for it. He'd expected the lie, anticipated that Dorian would try to use him, but he'd still fallen for it.

"Lyrium," Cullen forced himself to say weakly. "It's…I want…."

Dorian sharply exhaled, stepping closer and pulling Cullen into an embrace. "You don't need it. You are a lion, my lion, and the last thing you need is a leash."

The last thing I need is for you to free yourself from my leash, was what Cullen heard instead. But still, he nodded stiffly. He tried to return the embrace, but simply could not make himself show such affection.

Not now, not when everything had crumbled to dust before his eyes.

Dorian pulled away slightly, stroking Cullen's cheek, beautiful grey eyes taking in his pallor with increasing worry. "Commander, take this as an order if you must — do not take lyrium."

Cullen tried to breathe evenly, pretended he succeeded, and nodded.

"That's it," Dorian said, smiling softly. "There's my strong Commander." He pressed a brief kiss to the corner of Cullen's mouth, evidently noticing when Cullen unwittingly winced. "Can I get you something? Water, wine? A potion?" When Cullen shook his head, he added, "We seem to be getting a slow start this morning. A quick nap before we leave the Pass? I'll make certain you don't get left behind," he added with a small grin.

The Pass. They weren't in the same one Dorian had told him about, but that memory…why was that triggering a memory?

The first time Cullen had managed to go to the lake, when he'd let Dorian know he had followed up on the tip after all. Dorian had sighed, seeming to relax before….

I have some urgent news. How quickly can you evacuate Skyhold?

The next wave of understanding made it all the worse. Cullen was going to be sick. That had been the plan all along — to get the majority of the forces out of Skyhold. When Cullen didn't listen, when he didn't believe there was a reason, the Magisters had made one.

Dorian had seemed surprised about Adamant, but he'd lied about so much else — why wouldn't that reaction be a lie as well?

"I need to…I forgot to tell the Inquisitor something," Cullen said, inwardly cursing himself for such a terrible excuse. Worse, the way Dorian's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, like he knew.

But then Dorian smiled again, patting Cullen on the shoulder. "I'll work on packing our tent."

Cullen, in fact, did become sick just a few tents later, ducking around one to empty his stomach onto the dirt. He wiped his mouth, still feeling ill but he needed to go to Maxwell and tell him what he'd heard. He had to let him know that something was happening to Skyhold.

Josephine and Leliana — they were the ones left in charge over the small number that remained behind. Leliana was capable, but against Venatori and red templars and maybe Corypheus himself? And with Alexius, who surely Dorian had secretly freed — was he a blood mage as well?

Would they return to anyone at all?

How could he have been so utterly stupid? The Magister had been working his way under Cullen's skin since meeting in Haven, and the moment Cullen's guard was down….

Not just down. Cullen had lowered his defenses and invited the bastard into his mind — into his heart.

"Inquisitor!" he exclaimed, stumbling into Maxwell's tent without bothering to announce himself first. Max jumped back with surprise, a swirl of magic about his hands that would usually put Cullen on alert.

He was too concerned about certain other mages to care just now.

"We need to return to Skyhold," Cullen said urgently.

Maxwell looked quite puzzled as he released his tug on the Fade. "What?"

"We need to get back as soon as possible." Cullen realized he was hyperventilating, and considering the way Maxwell was gaping at him, he must appear to have lost his mind. He closed his eyes and forced a slow breath through his nose. "Inquisitor, we need to return to Skyhold. There's…I overheard…." He still could not quite believe it. Not the idea that Dorian would betray them, but that he would go so far as this. "Dorian was talking to Erimond. They referenced a plan for the red templars to take Skyhold."

The Inquisitor may very well not have heard him, based on the entirely blank reaction.

"They mentioned Samson. And Alexius. This whole thing with Adamant, it's a ruse." Why wasn't Maxwell saying anything? "Inquisitor?"

Maxwell aimed to sit on his cot, but missed and ended up on the ground instead. "What?" he repeated. But instead of waiting for a response, he continued, "Leliana confirmed the army at Adamant. Erimond was telling the truth."

"Giving up vital information in exchange for the means to cripple the Inquisition entirely," Cullen pointed out. "Tevinter Magisters are nothing if not clever. We cannot lose our stronghold, our —."

"Josie," Max gasped with horror. "No, Josephine's there, if —." He shook his head, all the blood rushing from his face. "This is a joke. You didn't — I thought you and Dorian were —?"

"We are. Were. I don't know," Cullen replied shakily. "He said —." Cullen's throat tightened. "He said I was in thrall," he admitted.

Maxwell carefully got to his feet, moving to stand a little further away from Cullen. "If…if you are, why are you telling me this?"

Cullen blinked rapidly, trying to think. If Dorian did have control of him, he could have stopped him from passing along this information. But maybe Dorian just didn't know he'd overheard — he only suspected Dorian knew, that was all. And if Dorian was using magic on him, Cullen had not noticed. He had been able to tell in the Fade, when he felt that urge not to push Dorian further concerning his affairs.

Maybe that meant Dorian had done nothing of late to control him. But even so, he was probably simply biding his time.

"I don't think he's using that control now," Cullen said slowly. "Though he could. We…I've known that he could ever since the ritual." If that was true, he probably shouldn't be alone with the Inquisitor. What if Dorian chose now to exert that power? But no, he wouldn't — if the Inquisitor's death was the goal, there would be no need for this massive deception. They were not looking to take out the Inquisitor. It seemed that they were looking to take over the Inquisition. "I know we cannot simply turn the army around. Adamant is still a threat, but we cannot ignore what I overheard."

Maxwell twisted his fingers, staring over Cullen's shoulder as he considered. "If…if there's the slightest chance our absence is putting Jos—Skyhold in danger, we must do something about it." He swallowed with difficulty. "I'll head back with a small party. Solas or Vivienne, maybe Bull."

"I would like to come as well."

Maxwell eyed him warily. "Commander, I don't…."

"If Dorian isn't around, he can't control me."

The moment he said it, Cullen realized it was a lie. The distance had not weakened their bond before, not if showing up in Dorian's dreams were any indication. But Dorian would at least not know what Cullen was doing if they were apart — surely that provided the necessary protection.

"If you're…I suppose if Samson is involved, it would be —." Maxwell's eyes narrowed. "Hold on. Is that why you want to go?"

"What?" Cullen asked with confusion.

"Your old friend."

Cullen scoffed, hardly believing his ears. "If you think I'd ever want to help Raleigh after what he did to me —."

"That's not what I think," Maxwell interrupted. "I think you're looking for revenge." Cullen gaped at him. Oddly enough, that thought had not crossed Cullen's mind. "Not that he wouldn't have it coming," the Inquisitor continued. "I can't stop you from coming along. But what about Dorian?"

Shaking his head with bewilderment, Cullen replied, "No, of course we can't bring the Venatori agent with us."

"Assuming he is one," Maxwell said quietly. "But I meant that he'll notice you're gone. The two of you have been sharing a tent the entire journey thus far, so even if he doesn't realize while we're marching he surely will tonight."

"Then we'll have to make good time," Cullen replied.

Maxwell was going to twist off his fingers at this rate. "I can't believe that he would do this. I mean…are you sure you didn't misunderstand?" he asked, clearly reaching for any bit of hope he could find.

"Inquisitor," Cullen started, but found himself unable to come up with an appropriate response. He could never be entirely certain, not when it came to Dorian, could he? For all he knew, Dorian was simply playing both sides. He was in this for himself, after all, was he not?

But there was being in this for oneself, and then there was causing the fall of the world's only defense against chaos.

"No, you wouldn't have come to me if you weren't," Maxwell mumbled. "We should go, you're right. Just…Dorian?"

At first Cullen assumed that Maxwell was simply still in disbelief that his friend could be part of such a conspiracy, but then a familiar voice chimed in from behind him.

"Heading off on a little side quest, are we?"

Dorian stood at the entrance to the Inquisitor's tent, a knowing smirk on his lips and a devilish glint in his eyes.