It was late—late enough that it could have been very early by some standards. Seyna was on her bed in her quarters at Skyhold surrounded by books, scrolls, and bits of parchment.
Like most evenings when Seyna was staying over at Skyhold between campaigns, she was burying herself in research. Theorizing something, doing dutiful research, and finding answers were all very addictive to her. She loved feeling like she could contribute something that no one else would have.
Tonight, she was researching Templar martial techniques. She theorized that there were martial techniques and methods that the Templar Order used back when they were first founded that were different from the modern-day Order. She also theorized that the Red Templars might be being trained under the guidance from Corypheus and Samson in age-old techniques that would be foreign to their enemies.
If she could just string together enough pieces of information, she hoped to generate a list of the strengths and weaknesses of the Red Templars to help train the Inquisition soldiers. It could save lives that need not be lost. Her hours of study and preparation could prevent needless loss.
It had taken many long nights, but she finally found the last piece of information that confirmed the basis of the theory. It was joyous, it was right there in front of her!
She realized that this could be a very big win for the Inquisition. It could change the outcomes of any confrontation with the Red Templars. They needed to start training the soldiers on this right away- well… Perhaps that was a bit hasty for her to assume. But she did rationalize it was something she needed to share with the Commander, certainly.
He could take this information and he could better determine its usefulness or practicality in training the recruits. Seyna found herself so excited at this revelation that she couldn't possibly restrain herself. She slipped into her house shoes and pulled on her thin jacket over her night clothes. As she went to grab her candle, she realized it had just burned to its end.
What time was it, exactly? Was it too late to bother him with this? No, she thought, it was too important. And she had heard the Commander frequently worked late into the sleeping hours by the guards on the night watch. Not that she was prying, of course.
She did pause when thinking of going to the Commander's office and working with him directly. Most likely alone. It had been impossible to work in close contact with Cullen lately and not find herself distracted in some way. At times it was daydreaming, at times just watching him… At time she found herself struggling to string words together intelligently around him.
Since Haven, her crush had only gotten magnitudes worse. She cursed herself for the foolishness that fueled her infatuation. There were many, many reasons that she could not—and should not—pursue a romantic relationship with the Commander. But that didn't seem to be hindering the pace at which they grew increasingly closer. They shared little jokes that confounded Josephine and Leliana.
Together they played chess in the garden even when the weather was less-than-ideal. They always seemed to lose track of whose turn it was when they got too engrossed in sharing stories from their past. Being near him became her favorite part of any day. It was fun when they found something they disagreed on, and then spent ages trying to explain themselves to the other. She was learning so much about him that it became difficult to remember that she was trying to maintain a professional distance. That ship had sailed about two months ago.
Honestly, she hadn't taken the time to try to sort through these feelings. Everything in the Inquisition had been too chaotic and busy since they had arrived at Skyhold. She wouldn't have free time soon, either. She was supposed to be studying hierarchy and etiquette of the Orleisan court ahead of the engagement at the Winter Palace… Sigh.
With a deep breath to get back on track, she reassured herself that this was strategic, professional, and worth the awkward situation. She would prove to herself that they could be platonic, professional coworkers.
Carrying the tome (with her pages of notes shoved in) clutched tightly to her chest, Seyna made her way down the stairs out of her quarters. The fortress around her was quiet… All but buttoned up for the evening. Even the staff who cleaned the main hall overnight were finished with their tasks by the time she pushed into the expansive room.
She had plotted her route ahead of time (possibly more than once). She would head down the nearby stairs to the lower level, then out through the kitchen and down to the courtyard. Once past the stables, she'd head up the stairs that hugged the wall of the battlements and led to the door to the Commander's office. Overall, she would disturb as few of the castle's sleeping inhabitants as possible.
Her journey was uneventful, albeit the overnight kitchen staff making bread for the morning seemed a bit startled when they realized who was cutting through. Seyna didn't delay to alleviate their concerns. She darted through the room and out the door without more than a wave over her shoulder and a quick and friendly "Aneth ara!"
Suddenly she was outside the commander's office, with the moon high overhead. A light flurry was just beginning to fall upon the fortress, swirling its sparkling dust across the ground as the breeze blew it about. A shiver shot down her spine as she stood to catch her breath, it was certainly not a warm night and… perhaps she ought to have brought a more substantial jacket.
Oh well, being in the Commander's office was always so warm, comfortable, welcoming, and cozy… The idea seemed very appealing at that moment. Through the skinny window next to the door, she saw flickers of candlelight and took this as permission to enter.
She pushed hard on the handle. With a groan and startlingly loud "cla-chunk", it gave way. She forced the heavy door open and slipped inside. She shut it behind her, excitedly opening with "Commander, I have some fantastic news, I hope I'm not intrud-" She turned to face the desk and froze.
Oh. He wasn't there.
His desk was a bit of a mess. The candles on stands around the room flickered their meager light, but the candle on his desk had burned all the way down with no replacement in sight. It seemed he may have also worked late.
"Fenedhis. Of course." Suddenly feeling weak under the weight of the tome that she had brought, she moved to drop it on the only (somewhat) free space on the desk's surface. That was when she heard it…
She heard armor. It was making the subtle noises it did when someone was twisting or fighting in it. She heard the twisting creak of the leather. Quiet metal buckles connected with other parts, sounding like tiny out of tune instruments. And then she heard the voice.
They weren't words, but the noises of a struggle. A gasp, a grunt, something mumbled under the breath as a curse… Seyna's nerves were suddenly doused in ice.
That was unmistakably his voice. The Commander was in the loft above the office, and by the sounds of it, something was fighting with him.
An assassin, in the keep? No… No this couldn't happen. She was supposed to be able to keep him—all of them safe here.
A million thoughts of guilt and fear surged through her as she flew up the ladder to the loft. He had saved her life before. Hopefully, she wasn't too late to return the favor.
She didn't have a staff, but that wouldn't hinder her from most spells that could startle an attacker to give Cullen the upper hand. Her fingers glowed white with the energy of the waiting spell she would throw as soon as she finished her way up this damned ladder. How tall was it?
The sounds continued as she grew closer. Her heart pounded—uneven and quick.
Once she propelled herself up the last few rungs onto the floor of the loft, Seyna paused. Her eyes searched frantically for where to shoot her spell- had the assailant hidden themself? Would she have to blanket the entire floor in ice because the rogue was imperceptible?
She calculated the possible courses and suddenly realized to check on the Commander- of course- was he alright?
He was on the bed… Oh no, was he hurt? She felt herself rooted to the spot where she crouched on the floor, holding her breath as she waited and watched.
No one emerged to attack her. And the Commander was not still. He twisted and jerked, vocalizing and gasping… Wait… Seyna straightened slowly and took a hesitant step closer. Was he… sleeping?
Yes… His eyes were closed, though not peacefully by any stretch of the sense. His expression reflected the conflict and pain he must be experiencing in whatever night terror had him in its grasp. Compassion filled Seyna, and a deep-seated need to help him, protect him, stop his pain.
"Commander?" Her voice was hesitant… Quiet. Probably too quiet.
She took a few steps forward, slowly. "Commander…?" He remained unchanged. Twisting and jerking, crying out and clutching his side. No! He was being hurt… Even if it weren't physical, it was real to him wherever his mind was.
She closed the distance to his bedside before she realized she was moving again. "Commander." Her voice was more certain now. It was stronger and louder.
Still, nothing.
"Commander!" She called loudly, leaning her body just over the edge of the bed, closer to him. His movements seemed to still for just a moment, but he still winced and jolted away from perceived threats in his nightmare.
She leaned closer without being aware of deciding to do it. With both hands, she gripped the top edge of his breastplate, shaking him gently. "Commander…" Still nothing.
"Commander Cullen, can you hear me? Commander Cullen!" With the last sound that left her mouth, his eyes shot open.
Bloodshot and wide-eyed, he looked… animalistic. Dangerous.
She could see they darted around the room. He was trying to understand his surroundings, trying to find the threat from moments ago- and they found her, grasping his armor and directly over him.
With a fierce, sudden jerk, he thrust himself seated upright and backwards. He reached for his sword- which Thank the Creators- was not at his side where he expected it.
Seyna's nerves felt a renewed dose of ice from head to toe as she realized the danger she was in now. What could he do to her if he didn't regain his conscious awareness right away?
Also, in pushing himself back so quickly, Seyna hadn't had time to let go or realize what was about to happen. She very suddenly found herself pulled off balance. She fell inelegantly over the edge of the bed, pulled along with him.
She was strewn across his lower half as he gasped for air and continued to search for a weapon. With as much haste (and care) as she could manage, she scrambled off him. She sat on her knees in front of him, drawing herself upright.
As much as she could, she tried to communicate that she was not a threat to him. Her posture was hunched and submissive, her hands were raised and shaking.
"Commander?" she said, doubting in every bone why in the Creator's names had she possibly come here, tonight? This was a terrible idea.
Recognition did not cross his features. His face was set in a viciously angry grimace. To be at the receiving end of it terrified her to her core. He froze, and again he grasped at his side for a sword.
She wasn't aware she was doing it until it happened- she reached across the distance between them and grabbed his hand that was trying for his weapon. Her fingers found his in a clumsy way but squeezed tight. Her voice was soft and gentle. Gods, this had better work. "Cullen."
Right away she realized that she had never addressed him without the honorifics. She hadn't been without the comfortable boundary of professionalism and decorum. It suddenly felt very revealing... Like she might suddenly confess her feelings just in the tone of her voice if she stripped away the titles.
Whether it was the touch or her voice that reached him, it was impossible to know. The gasping breaths he had been taken were coming back under his control. Tension in his body seemed to uncoil very slowly.
The Commander stared down at his captive hand and then back to Seyna's face. The room was dark, yes, but the moon was exceptionally bright in here for some unknown but lucky circumstance. It cast enough illumination to clearly see one another. His dark golden eyes bore into her own. In response, her stomach did several somersaults.
In the aftermath of his fitful sleep, everything suddenly seemed eerily quiet. It felt like forever that she tightly held his calloused hand, desperately trying to anchor him to this world. To her.
His face cycled through many emotions, and it was very unusual to see them so clearly. It wasn't like the usual mask that he most commonly wore. Watching them across his features was fascinating. She watched as he seemed at first startled, then embarrassed, ashamed… Confused, maybe grateful? And … shy, maybe?
"Inquisitor?" He tentatively asked, not withdrawing his hand from her grasp. He sounded disbelieving. Maybe he thought this was a very strange turn of events from his previous dream?
She cleared her throat, trying to quell her own shyness and shame at their current situation. "Y-yes, Commander?" She glanced up, as if awaiting her scolding. Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.
What fool of a girl would come to his office in the wee hours of the morning, into his bedroom, and wake him? What fool would hold his hand and sit on his bed in her linen jacket-concealed night clothes?
She looked up again. What she saw in his face was not what she had anticipated. Cullen's eyes crinkled and the corner of his mouth turned up. It pulled at his scar—it was quite dashing, really. She loved whenever she coaxed that genuine smile from him.
His free hand reached up to rub the back of his neck, gripping it in a characteristic gesture of sheepishness. He met her gaze, and his smile was so genuine and was he… amused? "I-… You don't have to-" He shook his head, trying to empty out the jumble of words that apparently didn't come out right. He cleared his throat, "Cullen is fine."
Oh, shit. This was not good. Seyna sat completely still. This all felt too surreal to her. Was this all a dream of hers?
If this were her dream, though, they were wearing too many clothes.
She felt his skin under hers… it was perfect and dreamy and not quite enough. She became keenly aware of his proximity and her breath quickened.
What did she say here, how was she supposed to react? How did they proceed from this moment? Her eyes cast down to their hands. Oh! Their hands. She began to extract her hand, letting go slowly and glancing up to see his reaction.
He reached suddenly with his other hand and stacked it on top of hers, trapping it. It dwarfed her hand easily, and the surface of his palm felt familiar and steady. It wasn't dry and rough, but the callouses made spots that did not give as easily as the rest of his soft, warm skin did. Her face grew hotter still.
There were still no words. What was he making of this? What… was she making of this? This was dangerous, dangerous territory.
After what seemed like an eternity of wordless silence between them, she cleared her throat tentatively. "I'm so sorry Comman-… uh, Cullen. I should not have come here so late- I didn't mean to disturb you- I don't want to intrude. I should g-go- I should go." Her voice started meek and quiet but accelerated as she stumbled through. Her brain worked quickly, trying to get her out of this situation where she could make many, many fumbles. Her brows knit together as she guiltily looked up to meet his eyes again.
They were still crinkled, reflecting his amused grin. "Y-you're not, er, disturbing me. I'm glad you…" he cast his eyes down suddenly. They were full of sadness, pain, and shame. "Helped me." He held her hand gently between both of his. He squeezed in a gentle, reassuring way. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand in a comforting way.
Surely holding hands wasn't supposed to be so… invigorating? Arousing? It felt like the usual electric energy that bounced between them was coming straight through his skin into her bones. She wanted him. She felt it everywhere and tried desperately to ignore it.
Seyna was so confused, so uncertain. This was not something she had planned for or knew how to navigate. More than anything, she was very likely to say or do something foolish or unwelcome. But the hot feeling of his hands against hers seared her skin. It overwhelmed her. She struggled to find her voice.
"I'm, uh, glad that I could. Truly. But perhaps I should go back. We can always er... Talk about my research findings in the morning." She shook her head unable to meet his gaze, it seemed so foolish that that was what brought her all the way out here at such an ungodly time. Despite it all, he was chuckling.
"That's why… That's why you're here at this hour, Inquisitor? Research?" His laugh grew a bit, "I mean, of course it is." The tone was so familiar and teasing, it burned her almost as much as the touch of his skin.
Seyna couldn't help herself, smiling widely and shaking her head... Yes. Of course that's why she would come to any of her team at any hour of the night. A new discovery. Something that could not wait! She tended to be impulsive about this kind of news. "Seyna." She said with a smile.
"What?" His laughter died off. He studied her very closely. He seemed confused, cautious maybe. Like a spring, his body suddenly seemed to snap back to the rigid tension of his uncertainty.
"Call me Seyna." Her voice was so meek, so unsure. It didn't sound like her usual self. She didn't dare glance up to his face this time, not wanting to study his reaction and spend the next 22 days replaying it and overthinking it.
She closed her eyes, entering her inner space of calm. She desperately tried to control the runaway thoughts, impulses, desires, and fears that were drowning out rational speech and action. She proceeded as she usually did, tuning everything out and then finally turning on her senses again one at a time.
Touch… Oh. That was a dangerous one. She felt the give of the mattress and quilts under her, reminding her twofold of how out of place she was… and how tired she was. But, more obviously, she felt the warm cage of his hands that captured her own, holding it with care. It was as if she was a trinket made of glass, and he was terrified of damaging her. Did she seem fragile, to him? She frequently felt fragile around him. Now more than ever.
She listened- she heard the wind rattling the glass in the panes somewhere nearby. She heard her own heartbeat staccato and frantic in her ears, distracting and erratic. It certainly had to be loud enough that he could hear it, too. She tried to ignore it.
She heard the rasp of his breathing next. It was strictly not in the existing list of things she knew what to do with. The sound caught her, and she couldn't properly proceed in her meditative practice… She was frozen to the spot.
She wanted to commit the sound to memory—here in this quiet room, listening to him breathe and imagining he was as aroused and anxious as she was. Her eyes blinked open and dared to glance at him again.
He seemed… exhausted. Still gently smiling, but his eyes were cast down.
"Seyna." He tested the sound and feel of it… It warmed him from somewhere deep inside, a blooming sort of familiar feeling that squeezed his heart. He couldn't stop the shy smile that it brought to his face. It felt like allowing himself for just a moment to admit that he loved this. Just as he had any time that he had joined her in the garden for chess, or in the mess for lunch. For just a moment, he would let himself love it as much as he did and relish in it. It made him even happier to see how she blushed when he said it.
The sensation of being tethered to her was strong and distracting. He was feeling pulled to her like a lodestone. It seemed like so long ago that he had gone over the edge, and there had never been hope of his return after that. Something within him needed her and drew strength from her. With a guilty conscience, he had always thought it was a sick addiction to her magical power… But something in him questioned more and more if that were the whole truth.
The magical hum between them couldn't explain his need to touch her—her neck, the curves of her body, everywhere he could reach. He so badly wanted to feel her move against him. He tried to stifle this. It was not the opportune time for those kinds of thoughts. He needed to focus, think only of her as she sat before him and not get lost in fantasy.
He steadied himself. Tried to focus. He realized that he was overcome with so much gratitude for her in this moment. Respect, fondness, and admiration. Everything he'd known already, but was reveling in during this stolen, impossible moment.
With a sobering realization, he knew that it would be unwise to continue trying to talk to her in his current state of drowsiness. He was very likely to say more than he ought to towards this incredible woman.
"Seyna? Please don't go." Even as the words came out of his mouth, he was surprised to hear them. Seyna's body became rigid. She held her breath and remained completely still. She exhaled slowly and quietly. He had seen her do this before, usually as she was gauging how to respond to someone, finding the exact right thing to say. Weighing her words very precisely, as he knew she almost always did.
But this time there were no words. She drew her lower lip between her teeth before she responded. That expression alone was enough to undo him.
Then, she nodded. Her smile was accepting. Friendly. Familiar. In one motion, she slipped off her house shoes over the side of the bed and crawled to reorient herself to be seated next to him rather than across from him.
He heard the soft-soled shoes quietly hit the floor before he had fully processed her answer. Her assent. Then, she was next to him. He… He couldn't know what to say here. He risked that if he let his terribly clumsy tongue get involved, he would break this impossibly fragile situation.
Wordlessly, he shed his breastplate and mantle, dropping them to the floor. He slid down, resting on his side, facing Seyna. He pulled the heavy quilts up over himself.
How was this real? What was she thinking? He couldn't properly process it all… He was so exhausted and caught himself already slipping back into sleep.
Without a word, Seyna slipped under the covers and slid next to him. She faced away but nestled herself in closely to his body. He was suddenly grateful for his state of sleepiness. If he were properly awake, this would be arousing beyond belief. He steadied himself with a slow breath—Maker, she smelled fantastic. He continued trying to stifle his intense want.
As he carefully tucked one arm above her pillow and the other across her middle, he felt the strangest sensation… This was perfection. They fit together so correctly, so effortlessly. As if she'd been here a thousand times before, settling into his embrace and sighing contentedly as they headed toward sleep together.
Like this, he could protect her. He felt whole. Certain. He could be enough for her, right now.
She grabbed his hand where it rested in front of her, and pulled his lower arm tightly against her body, hugging him to her chest like some sort of comfort object. Before he had time to commit the entire sensation to memory, to count the Maker's blessings that brought him this perfect moment in time… He was asleep.