This uncharted route was hardly ideal, as Dorian felt the need to point out at regular intervals. There wasn't any visible path, just underbrush and shadows from the trees and rocks blocking every which way. However, with the possibility that the bridge and the alternative path to the lift were both under templar or Venatori guard, it was the only choice that gave them a tactical advantage.
Still, it seemed too risky for the group to approach Skyhold all at once. Cullen suggested that perhaps one person go ahead to determine just who was in command of the castle. Their strategy would likely shift depending on who was in control — and it was entirely possible that their enemies had yet to fall on Skyhold. Unfortunately, whoever ventured in to determine what they could be facing may easily be discovered and captured. Determining who to send on such a mission was not as simple as Cullen might have hoped.
"I can shield myself fairly well," Dorian offered, his tone a little too relaxed. Cullen didn't need any stray thoughts sent his way to recognize that Dorian had no desire to push ahead alone. "I should be able to get close enough to determine what sort of welcome we could expect without being seen."
"And templars would sense you coming," Cullen countered coolly. "Even if they did not see you, they would know to be on the alert." Dorian's eyes narrowed a touch in challenge. "Forgive me, Magister Pavus, but you do have a bit of a…." Cullen searched for the right word, vaguely motioning to the area around the man. "Sparkle, about you," he finished.
"I'm plenty able to keep my sparkle to a minimum, Commander," Dorian replied, dark eyes glinting with amusement.
"I've seen no evidence of that," Cullen responded easily. Just how far was his mage willing to go for whatever it was he wanted out of this, Cullen wondered. "And besides, if it's the Venatori in command," he pressed on, pausing for a breath just long enough to give the mage time to send a startled urge his way, though none came, "you'd be right at home amongst your people and could lead us right into a trap."
"The nerve," Dorian scoffed, rolling his eyes even as his lovely lips threatened to curve into a smile. "Ungrateful barbarians, you lot are. Templars, I mean," he added with a gracious nod in Maxwell and Solas' direction.
"It's a fair assessment, Dorian," Maxwell muttered, evidently entirely missing the lack of any venom behind their hostilities. "I'm sorry, but with your history…."
Dorian waved a dismissive hand. "No, no, I deserve that." He did not appear sincerely put out at all, really, a twitch of his mustache betraying his feelings on the matter.
"I know the surrounding terrain," Cullen volunteered. "And I know the signs to look for. In such an event as this, Leliana and I discussed —."
"If we send you," Dorian interrupted with a self-satisfied smirk, "you could be running into the arms of your old friends. And then lead us into a trap." Dorian's smile did not waver in the slightest when Cullen's eyes narrowed.
Cullen growled softly, but did not risk pressing lest Dorian choose to bring up Raleigh in particular. He should have expected such a move from his infuriating mage; after all, the thrall ought to remain at his master's side. "What alternative would you suggest, Magister?" he snarled, his lip curling into something a little too close to a grin.
"I'll go," Maxwell offered, adjusting the staff slung over his back.
"Inquisitor, we cannot take that risk," Solas said, putting a firm hand on his shoulder to hold him back. "If any enemy is in our camp, you would be the most in danger."
"Well, apparently we can't send either of them," the Inquisitor hissed irritably, waving toward Dorian and Cullen with the sort of dramatic flair that Cullen would expect from Dorian. Considering the twinkle in Dorian's eye as he met Cullen's gaze, Dorian had just been thinking the same thing.
When Cullen looked back at Maxwell and Solas, he felt heat immediately start rising up his neck. Maxwell appeared irritated, but suspicious as his blue eyes shifted between the two; Solas, on the other hand, had an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smile that spoke of honest amusement.
The concern about betrayal might have been real, but perhaps the two were a little too obvious in their poorly feigned hatred. If they really remained at each other's throats, they probably wouldn't be talking quite so much.
That worked just fine, really. Cullen could always blame it on the blood magic.
"I could go," Solas suggested, his tone entirely even despite the lingering mirth in his eyes.
"And leave the Inquisitor in such dangerous company?" Dorian drawled innocently with a small nod in Cullen's direction.
"I believe the only one here in danger from this particular templar is you," Solas replied without missing a beat. "And the Inquisitor's only fear should be of witnessing something he will never be able to forget."
Dorian's throat bobbed as he swallowed, the only indication that he recognized that Solas was seeing straight through them.
"What?" Maxwell said after a moment, brow twisted with confusion.
Thankfully, Solas did not see any reason to elaborate. He straightened his clothes as he looked up toward the castle in the distance. "I should be able to get in unseen," Solas said pensively. "I do not sparkle," he added with a pointed side eye in Dorian's direction.
"How will we know if it's safe?" Maxwell asked as the elf tucked a few potions into his belt.
"I will return with word," Solas replied, his expression far more serious as he looked back to the Inquisitor. "Only if I return, Inquisitor, should you consider it safe."
Maxwell nodded, though his gaze flicked over to Cullen and Dorian with evident concern.
"I do not believe either is a threat to you, Inquisitor," Solas assured him. "Not at the moment, anyway." The glare Solas cast at Cullen was surprisingly fierce, the severity distinctly giving him the feeling that he was a child being chastised. "I will do my best to be back before nightfall," he said in farewell, darting into the trees and starting the climb.
They soon lost sight of him, leaving an awkward silence to settle over the trio that remained behind.
Dorian shifted his position, moving to lean the opposite direction on the fallen tree he was using as a bench. Cullen hardly noticed until he felt the mage's fingers brushing against his hand. Without considering how it would look, Cullen turned his hand over to let their fingers interlace.
"So," Maxwell said finally, sitting down a fair distance from the two and quite obviously staring at their joined hands. "You two…made up?" he inquired dubiously.
Cullen's cheeks were unbearably hot at the surprisingly knowing look Maxwell gave him.
"The Commander does not appear to be actively trying to murder me, does he?" Dorian said brightly. "I suppose that means we did kiss and make up."
Cullen huffed. "I'm not sure kissing was a part of it," he murmured out of the corner of his mouth. Dorian's smile grew a touch wider, his grey gaze drifting appreciatively over Cullen and clearly undressing him with his eyes. The resulting heat spreading through him was quite welcome when surrounded by snow and blistering cold winds.
Maxwell cleared his throat awkwardly, and both men looked back to see him looking very intently up at the sky. "I am here, you know," he reminded them. "But, if you want or need to like…kiss or whatever…." He trailed off, his face deeply red — already from the cold wind, and likely far more so from his own discomfort.
"Did you hear that, Commander?" Dorian said in a loud whisper, leaning closer to Cullen. "We have the Inquisitor — the Herald's — blessing. It would be blasphemy to ignore his word. Shall we?"
"We shall not," Cullen said firmly, leaning away when Dorian moved to kiss him. "I know your kind, Tevinter, and kissing isn't what you're after."
"Well, that's true," Dorian admitted quietly, a wicked smirk twisting his mouth. "But if it naturally progresses from an innocent kiss, I don't believe it's fair to blame that on me." Dorian was just this side of beaming as he added, "After all, it's me that'll end up pinned to the nearest surface and that is most certainly not my doing." Cullen failed to bite back a grin at the truth of that as more than one heated memory flashed through his mind.
Maxwell cleared his throat much more loudly. "I am still here," he said again, his voice a bit tight. "Maker, you two are going to be the death of me."
When Dorian tried to prod Cullen with further flirtations, Cullen ignored him. Mostly. He may not be reacting overtly, but his mind was certainly lingering elsewhere — such as their recent interaction in the Fade. He had been fearful it was all going to go so wrong, but…somehow Dorian had said the right things, lifting a dreadful weight from Cullen's heart while simultaneously tugging all that negative energy to be used in a far more pleasurable manner. It was a bit of a blur, what with the urgency and dire need that had seemed to drive them, but it had been satisfying all the same.
When Cullen felt the teasing brush of the mustache against his fingers, he smiled and decidedly did not pull his hand away. A chuckle rumbled in Dorian's throat before he set Cullen's hand back down, and Cullen caught Maxwell halfway through averting his gaze.
As the sun moved over the sky, Cullen tried to ignore the increasing nerves twisting his gut. It was a fairly long journey given the untraveled terrain, and it was entirely possible that it would take Solas until the next morning to return even without any templars or Tevinter mages in the way. The elf would, of course, be making a cautious effort to remain concealed and that was likely slowing him down.
But as the sky began to grow dark, the distinct possibility that Solas would not be able to come back started to become an occurrence that required consideration. While they obviously could not risk sending the Inquisitor himself ahead, maybe Dorian or Cullen should have gone. Or maybe both. Given the possibility of a betrayal — likely a false one for their own protection — that had seemed unwise as well. Perhaps all of them should have gone.
Cullen reminded himself that it was entirely possible that Dorian had alerted them to the plan in time to prevent Skyhold's capture. It was also possible that Dorian wasn't trying to put a stop to it at all and had orchestrated this whole thing in order to weaken the Inquisition further. After all, it would be one thing to capture Skyhold, yet another to also capture the Inquisitor. Cullen might not be in danger from any of those schemes, but surely Maxwell and Solas both would be.
This was all beginning to seem more and more like a drastic mistake.
Maxwell was pacing in a little circle now, twisting his fingers so harshly he was likely on the verge of dislocating them. "Where is he?" he murmured yet again. He had been less and less vocal as time went on, with low whispers worrying about Solas and lower breaths still revealing just how afraid he was for the Ambassador.
It wasn't fair. None of it. Maxwell was so young, and he was doing what he could to keep the world from falling apart while everyone around him plotted to break it in one way or another. Seeing him in this light, like a fretful child…it made something in Cullen's chest hurt.
When the man had first been found at the center of the destruction of the temple, Cullen had advocated for him to be put to the sword. That was…rather awful of him. The young man may have been the only suspect in the explosion, but to make the leap to calling for his execution before the lad even had the chance to wake seemed far crueler in hindsight.
Almost as though reading his mind, Dorian suddenly leaned into him, resting his head on Cullen's shoulder. The mage said nothing, but tilted his head to look up at him with soulful eyes before sighing and curling a little closer.
He somehow smelled of cinnamon and other spices. Considering the circumstances of recent travels, that seemed almost laughable. Dorian did go far to preserve his appearance, though. Cullen suddenly wondered what the man saw in him. Unlike Dorian, Cullen had always done a bare minimum — save for, perhaps, a bit of extra product in his hair to tame it. The Magister probably saw some southern savage, an unwashed and uncultured warrior who slept with the dogs.
Cullen's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked back down at Dorian in time to catch the mage winking at him.
Oh, very funny, Cullen thought as he glared back. Really, using their bond to insult him. Whenever he next flew off the handle and tried to murder the man, it would not be at all Cullen's fault.
Then he recalled that lovely time when Dorian had bathed him in the same soaps and oils the Tevinter regularly utilized for himself. It had really been wonderful, such soft and talented hands easing the knots in his muscles, pampering him in every way until he was entirely relaxed and sated.
If Cullen threw the man down to savagely fuck him in these mountains without a care as to the presence of the Inquisitor, that would also not be Cullen's fault.
Dorian jerked a little against him before looking up with wide eyes. You wouldn't.
Cullen smirked down at him. Oh, wouldn't he?
Dorian adjusted a little, clearing his throat as he looked back toward where Max was now laying down in some futile attempt to get some rest. He wasn't looking their way. Dorian looked back up at Cullen with an expression that was clearly a dare, pupils blown and lips parted as he breathed a little faster in anticipation.
The mage gasped softly when Cullen tilted his chin up in order to kiss him.
It felt as though it had been ages since they had kissed in the real world. The taste, the feel, all of it was so much more powerful in reality than in the Fade. Cullen barely suppressed a moan as he licked into Dorian's mouth, and then failed to stifle a growl when Dorian met his tongue.
Cullen's eyes flew open and he abruptly broke the kiss. Dorian appeared affronted, his mouth still open as he fixed his mustache. He was about to say something when Cullen firmly covered his mouth.
Another branch snapped.
"Max," Cullen hissed quietly in warning as Dorian extricated himself from where he'd been astonishingly entangled with Cullen.
Maxwell had barely sat up when a figure emerged from the shadows of the surrounding trees. It was too dark to make them out at first; they had a hood up, shielding their face from the moonlight.
"Inquisitor, Commander." Leliana ignored Dorian for the moment as she caught her breath. "So what Solas said was true."
"Leliana," Cullen said carefully, alarm bells ringing in his head. Solas had been quite clear that they should only presume safety if he himself returned. The fact the apostate was not here — could there be an innocent explanation? "Why are you here?"
Leliana brushed a bit of snow from her shoulder before lowering her hood. Her eyes were wide, but her expression was otherwise inscrutable. "Solas slipped a short distance from Skyhold. Agents found him and brought him in."
"Is he all right?" Max asked urgently.
Leliana still did not look away from Cullen as she said, "He is injured, but I trust he will recover."
"How is Josie?" Maxwell said. "And everyone, of course?"
"Solas mentioned you all thought there was a danger," Leliana said slowly. "The trip was not necessary, I assure you."
"Did Solas say anything else?" Dorian asked quietly.
"Only that he did not come alone. Thus why I am here."
Cullen tore his eyes away from Leliana, meeting Dorian's gaze and recognizing that both had noticed the same thing.
Though not in so many words, it certainly felt as though Leliana was trying to warn them.
"Not happy to see me, are you?" Dorian prodded with a teasing smile, but his gaze was sharp and alert.
"Not especially," Leliana admitted. "But I'm a bit more concerned by your presence, Knight-Commander."
Cullen's blood went cold. That had been his previous title in Kirkwall after Meredith's murder — it was a title he had purposefully shed and left behind when he had joined the Inquisition. No one knew better the reasons why than Leliana.
Well, and perhaps Dorian.
"After all," the Spymaster added with a bit of a strained grin. "The Commander of the Inquisition's forces ought to be with those forces."
"So…nothing has happened?" Maxwell said, entirely oblivious to the signs that something had very much happened. He looked at Dorian with confusion. "Why would —?"
"Why don't we all head back to the castle before our toes freeze off, yes?" Dorian interjected, stepping forward to put a firm hand on the Inquisitor's shoulder.
Cullen almost shook his head when Dorian glanced over at him, but then realized it was highly likely Dorian knew exactly what they were getting into. Surely he had picked up on Leliana's specific wording as well and understood the truth of the matter just as much as Cullen did.
Based on Leliana's words, Cullen thought it safe to assume that the red templars were in control of Skyhold. Taking Leliana's roundabout replies to their questions into account, it also appeared likely that their enemies were somehow listening. He did not catch any flicker of red nearby, but Leliana did have access to sending crystals. It would be painfully ironic for them to force her to carry one while she came to collect the new arrivals — likely holding one or more people hostage should she choose to warn them or try to run.
"Yes, I suppose we should hurry," Leliana said carefully, meeting Cullen's eyes with no small amount of panic. He guessed that part of her had hoped that they would take the warning and run, despite whatever her failure to return with them might bring upon Skyhold.
But that failure would almost certainly mean Solas' death, and quite possibly the loss of many others.
She slipped on the first rock they needed to climb, but Cullen caught her easily. Leliana wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning close to his ear and breathing, "Thank you for your help," with the slightest emphasis on the last word.
Cullen gave her a nod as he steadied her and aided her climb. He helped Dorian next, who took his hand and pressed a strip of leather into it. He winked before using Cullen's shoulder as a handhold and following after the Spymaster. Cullen went last, taking the moment to look at whatever it was Dorian had given him.
The collar. Useless, most likely, as Dorian had still visited him in the Fade once Cullen had given him the means to unlock it.
Dorian held out a hand to help Cullen up, his touch lingering as he kept a firm hold far longer than necessary. Pretending that this was just a part of the two's bond in case of any onlookers, Cullen reached to cup Dorian's cheek. Playing along, Dorian ran his fingers through Cullen's hair before tugging him in for a possessive kiss. He guided Cullen's hand into his pocket to deposit the collar, though he did not immediately remove his own. His hand seemed to be seeking something, and Cullen's half-closed eyes flicked over to see Leliana watching them intently.
"Dorian?" he murmured against the mage's lips, hips jerking slightly as Dorian's fingers rubbed his uninterested length through the cloth.
"I'm giving you what you need, Commander," Dorian muttered against him, suddenly kissing him far harder. Cullen was really only allowing it to happen since Dorian did appear aware of their circumstances and surely this was somehow part of the plan, but he did let out a small cry at the intense surge of magic that flooded into him.
Dorian swallowed the surprised shout and echoed it as a moan, all while letting formless magic enter Cullen.
Cullen was not certain what to make of it. The magic was not painful, and it wasn't being used for anything. Dorian was just…gifting it to him, all while kissing him so fiercely it was becoming difficult to remember their circumstances.
"Maker's breath," Maxwell's faint voice said breathlessly.
Dorian grinned as he pulled away, patting Cullen on the cheek in a rather patronizing way. "As the Inquisitor says," he commented as he moved to follow Maxwell and Leliana.
The magic remained. It hummed in Cullen's veins, tingled just under his skin. Without an outlet, it felt a bit like he was drunk with how it messed with his senses and turned his insides while remaining somewhat pleasant. Cullen followed the others at a slight distance, a hand over his heart as he tried to figure out what the magic was meant to be doing.
The longer it lingered, the better it felt. It was pure power throbbing through him; it was in his blood, in his muscles, itching at his fingers.
It felt like lyrium.
Cullen almost tripped at the thought, clenching and unclenching his fist as he tested to see if he could shape the magic to his will. Instinctively he tugged at the power like he would lyrium, as if preparing to cast a Silence. Maxwell cast a sharp look over his shoulder, fear reflected in his eyes and Cullen was certain he the Inquisitor had felt the power. It likely did not seem exactly like templar abilities, but it was close enough to cause that hint of panic.
He tightened his hand into a fist again as he abruptly understood what Dorian meant for him to do.
If the templars were indeed in control of Skyhold, Cullen would likely be expected to side with them. However, after the previous disaster in Honnleath, it was entirely possible that he had no overt protection from his status as a former templar. There was no way to be certain that Raleigh would be the one in charge, or that the man would be capable of or even interested in protecting Cullen.
Dorian glanced over at him, quite possibly reading his mind, or at least feeling the weight of his thoughts as Cullen understood. The mage tilted his chin in barely a nod. It was not acknowledgement, but encouragement. Dorian seemed to have their entire gambit laid out in his head from the moment Leliana had come upon them, preparing the board and setting the pawns in their place.
There was only one way for Cullen to ensure his own safety.
He would have to betray the Inquisitor.