The raucous laughter of a boisterous trio of men echoed throughout a nearly deserted tavern as the three sat crowded together at a small, round table near the bar. They were taking turns singing bawdy verses into their ale and reaching pinching fingers toward a plain-faced barmaid who seemed to be enjoying their attention. Behind the shabby bartop, a paunchy barman with an overly large mustache paid the men no mind as he wiped a filthy rag across his counter absently. He appeared to be eavesdropping on a hushed conversation taking place between a pair of cloaked men sitting back in the far corner of the dimly lit establishment.

A musty odor hung heavy in the air and dust covered nearly every surface in the place, but Solona paid these things no mind as she took a seat in a hard-backed chair set near a small, flimsy table shoved in the corner nearest the tavern's entrance. It wasn't long after she had settled in her seat that the angular serving girl pried herself away from the singing men and marched toward the warden, patched skirt and stained apron swishing about her bony ankles.

"Wot can I get fer ya?" the young woman inquired almost aggressively, glaring at Solona from beneath wispy strands of lank, brown hair. Ignoring the woman's unfriendly demeanor, Solona pressed a few coins into the barmaid's hand and requested a tankard of honeyed wine. The woman examined the coins hawkishly in her palm as she turned to fetch the beverage, almost as though she didn't trust their authenticity. Unperturbed, the Grey Warden watched the barmaid trudge back to her table and set a scuffed, wooden tankard down upon it unceremoniously, dark wine sloshing and spilling over the lip and onto the table. Without even a backwards glance, the serving girl had stalked off toward the rowdy group once more.

Solona lifted what remained of the drink to her lips, inhaling the heady aroma of the deep, crimson wine and savoring its bouquet. She drank deeply of the sweetened liquid, intent on drowning out her memories of the day's events. With a soft thud, she set her half-empty cup back upon the table and heaved an irate sigh, massaging her aching brow with one hand.

Now that she had actually taken the time to think upon the matter, it wasn't so strange that Cullen would be so changed. Greagoir had told her that he had succumbed to lunacy, but Solona never imagined that after so many months away from the tower and the mages, he would still be so affected and so...angry. His fearful distrust of mage-kind extended even to her, in spite of the fact that she had been the one to rescue him from his imprisonment that day.

Still, Solona couldn't help sympathizing with him, despite some hurt feelings and an incredible sense of disappointment. She, too, had seen terrible and monstrous things throughout her quest to end the Blight. Not only that, but she had also done things she never, in her worst dreams, would have imagined she'd have to do, things she wasn't certain she'd ever forgive herself for, no matter how necessary they might have been at the time. There was rarely a night that she did not relive each and every one of these horrors as she slept.

She sighed more heavily this time and drained her half empty tankard, setting the wooden vessel at the far edge of the table in the hopes that she would catch the serving girl's attention with her obvious need for a refill. Solona had every intention of spending her evening in a drunken stupor after her exchange with Cullen. She had been a fool, and now she intended to give herself reason to act like one.

"Well, ain't you a pretty li'l thing? I ain't seen you roun' these parts afore. Why don't you join me and my friends at our table o'er there 'stead o' drinkin' all by yer lonesome?"

One of the unruly trio had sidled up to her table and was now leaning uncomfortably close to her over the creaking table she was seated behind. The man was lanky, with a pinched and ruddy face, and his small, squinting eyes lingered for far too long in places they had no right to look. The stench of ale was heavy on his fetid breath, as he leered at her lasciviously through wormy lips that covered large, yellowed teeth. She gave him a strained smile before replying in a tight voice, stealing a quick glance at his comrades who were watching the exchange with a concerning amount of interest.

"Thank you for the kind invitation, but I'm meeting someone. I'm sure he'll be around soon," she lied, hoping she had managed to keep the disgust out of her voice.

"Sure 'e din't ferget about ya? You been sittin' 'ere by yerself fer awhile now."

"She's sure," a familiar voice sounded from behind the man and a large hand fell upon his shoulder heavily, causing the lank man to start and stagger slightly. Solona fought to keep the surprise from registering upon her features as she stared up at the golden-haired Templar towering over the man. The drunkard, angry at the interruption, whirled around to face the man standing behind him, hands balled tightly into fists. Upon recognizing Cullen, however, the man's eyes went wide with apprehension, and he bobbed his head deferentially with a mumbled word of apology before slinking back to his table. The other men at the table had suddenly become focused on the contents of their tankards, gazes completely avoiding the Templar.

"Do you...would you mind if I...if I joined you? For a drink, I mean," the Templar stuttered once the other man was out of earshot. A dark flush crept up his neck to the tips of his ears as he stood there, muscles in his jaw twitching in nervous anticipation. Solona smiled gratefully and nodded, gesturing to the chair opposite hers with a lazy wave of delicate fingers.

"So...What brings you here?" she inquired trying her best to sound more indifferent than overeager.

"Dinner," Cullen grunted succinctly. Solona could feel the weight of chagrin tugging at the corners of her mouth, but she managed to keep the smile from completely sliding off of her lips.

"A habit of yours, I suppose?" she asked in an attempt to make some sort of conversation. He nodded a silent answer, amber eyes scanning the tavern warily. After a moment's inspection, his eyes stilled, settling upon the woman sitting opposite him for a brief moment. Then he clasped his hands together, fingers interlaced, and set them on the table in front of him with a deep breath. He seemed to be flexing and unflexing his fingers, squeezing then releasing the digits together anxiously.

"I...am glad to see you looking well, too," he muttered, staring at his hands, his words mirroring the ones she had spoken upon seeing him by the well. Solona froze, momentarily rendered speechless by this unexpected declaration. She managed to refrain from grinning like a fool, barely, but could not suppress the frantic, hopeful fluttering that his words had stirred within her chest. Before her clumsy tongue had a chance to find the words for a proper response, the rangy serving girl had made her way back to the table.

"Good evenin', Ser Cullen. Always a pleasure to see you in 'ere," she simpered with a fluttering of stubby eyelashes. "You'll be 'aving the regular again?"

He gave her a taut smile that didn't reach his eyes before replying, "Of course. Your lamb stew is a particular favorite of mine, Harriet."

She beamed at him brightly before turning her attention to the pretty mage, her attempt at a coy smile replaced by a hostile glower.

"And wot about you? Wot do you want? Another round, I s'pose? Drank the firs' like you was a lush, you did."

Solona's eyebrows climbed her forehead in disbelief at the accusation, but she bit back the harsh words resting on the tip of her tongue and spoke as kindly as she could manage instead.

"I would also enjoy a bowl of your lamb stew with my next round, if you please," she said stiffly, glancing briefly toward Cullen. "It seems to come highly recommended."

Without another word, the woman swiped the empty tankard off the table and strode away in a whirl of patched gray skirts. Cullen had finally brought his gaze up to meet Solona's, a slightly puzzled smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She gave a soft, lilting chuckle as she shrugged in abashed response, shaking her head a little, a gesture which caused silvery wisps of hair to fall into her face.

"Did you really down your drink that quickly?" he inquired, arching a perfect eyebrow over one eye.

"Well, I was having a rather bad day," she answered, an embarrassed blossom of pink making its way across her cheeks. An anxious hand moved to fidget with the ends of a long strand of hair that had fallen forward over one shoulder.

"I see," he murmured thoughtfully.

It wasn't long before their meal was served, though Cullen received his with much more care than Solona. They made casual conversation throughout their meal, though Solona carried much of it by asking Cullen about his family and sharing details of her travels as a Grey Warden. The evening grew later as he enjoyed a few pints of ale and she, more tankards of wine, and they both began feeling much more at ease with one another than they had before.

"I think the serving girl might just be infatuated with you," Solona giggled after the woman had set full tankards in front of them and wandered away to the next table staring back at Cullen longingly.

"She's infatuated with all the men in these parts that aren't yet married," he grumbled, both hands wrapped around his tankard as he stared into its golden depths.

"Well, she does seem to have a particular fondness for you. I can't fault her taste, though," she rejoined with a wink that set Cullen's cheeks aflame in a brilliant shade of scarlet. He cleared his throat awkwardly and kept his eyes averted.

"So… You're a Grey Warden now," he remarked in an attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction. "I imagine that has been...quite an experience. Do you know what you'll do now that the Blight has ended?"

"Well, there's only two of us in Ferelden now, so I don't really know. My time as a Grey Warden has been anything but traditional. But, I'm free of the Circle since joining the Order. I can travel without the worry about being hunted as an apostate. I'm free to make choices I would not have been able to make, otherwise," she remarked, before giving a soft, pensive laugh and blushing. " I could even marry, now, if I wanted to."

"And, is there...someone...special to you, I mean?" he asked, sounding much more curious than she imagined he intended.

"Ah, yes. The other Grey Warden I mentioned," she murmured hesitantly, blushing a deeper pink than before and staring at the ragged edges of their splintering table. Cullen's face fell, but she did not look up to see his crestfallen expression.

"The man who was with you in the tower...when you...when I was…," Cullen trailed off momentarily before sighing heavily. "I thought I recognized some...tension in his expression during my...rather embarrassing...admission," he mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck and refusing to look toward the woman once again.

"Yes, although Alistair and I hadn't grown quite as...close…then as we are now," she replied softly, hoping that it was sympathy and not pity that was reflecting in her eyes. She did pity him a little, for the terrible torment he had endured, but it was a sentiment she knew he would not appreciate.

"I am glad for you both," Cullen said woodenly after a moment, his expression stoic. "You deserve happiness after everything you've been through."

"What about you?" she inquired politely. For some reason a part of her wished she could rescind the question. Though it was grossly unfair of her, considering her own relationship, she wasn't sure wanted to know the answer, but she pressed on anyway. "Have you found someone special?"

"There was someone, but I'm afraid special wouldn't be quite the right sentiment. She was...convenient, and I must admit I wasn't the kindest. She left Honnleath some months ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Solona lied, relief easing the knot that had been forming in the pit of her stomach.

"Don't be. There's only one woman who has managed to completely capture my interest, and I don't see that changing anytime soon," he stated matter-of-factly, eyes trained intently upon the Grey Warden's face. "Sorry, I suppose that's probably too forward a thing to say to a woman who has already been spoken for."

Solona felt her jaw drop at this statement. The last thing she was expecting from Cullen was such an open admission of attraction. She didn't have the opportunity to offer any sort of rejoinder before he continued.

"I suppose I was quite unkind to you as well. I was...not myself after the events at Kinloch Hold. I am still having some trouble adjusting. I find I no longer have such a sympathetic outlook toward mages, present company excluded, but that's no excuse for the things I said to you...the things I...asked you to do. I am glad you did not listen to the ravings of a mad man."

Guilt and shame were etched clearly upon his rugged countenance as he stared down at his hands as they rested upon the rough wood of the table, palms facing downward. Solona felt an aching deep within her chest at the expression. Without thinking, she reached out a small hand and placed it on top of his much larger one. It jerked a little, as though he meant to pull it back and away from her touch, but he didn't.

"Cullen, I've never once thought poorly of you for the things that you said during that time. You were not in your right state of mind. I admired you for not giving into the demons as the other templars did, but I knew you had not survived them unscathed. Please, think no more of it."

"You...admired me? Even...Even after I...?" he stuttered, sounding completely taken aback and searching her face, eyes wide with incredulity.

"I admired you before I ever left the tower, though that particular experience cemented those feelings. You were honorable, dutiful and kind, all things worthy of regard. Don't you recall when I…," she cleared her throat, cheeks burning as she recalled the mortifying experience, before continuing on, "when I, well...I was a little...bold with you right before the incident that led to my joining the Wardens."

"You were serious, then?"

He was staring at her with rapt attention, amber eyes full of earnest surprise as he held her olivine gaze in his. She felt herself flushing once again at the intensity of his stare, but found herself unable to look away. Heat seemed to radiate from the skin on her palm where her hand still rested upon his. She pulled it back to herself, wringing her hands restlessly as she spoke.

"Well, you had always been so kind to all the mages, and you're very...nice to look at. Um, well...you were the only Templar I ever would have considered a friend, and I confessI nurtured a certain...fondness for you. So, when I heard gossip that you might have returned those feelings, I acted foolishly out of character. It's still rather humiliating."

"Maker's breath!" he exclaimed, with an exasperated huff. "I was the fool! I thought you were only teasing me because such gossip had been circulating amongst the mages."

"I am disappointed that you thought me capable of such cruelty. Though, I suppose I did come on a little strong. I had never tried to declare any intentions to a man before."

"I was rather inexperienced at the time, myself," he admitted with a chuckle, his eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. Without preamble, he pushed his chair back from the table, reached into a small coin purse attached to his belt and threw some coins upon the table. "I know it's getting late, but would you like to walk with me for a while? I could use the fresh air to clear my head of all this ale, and, well, there's someplace I'd like to show you."

Solona nodded her silent assent with a small smile and rose from her seat staggering slightly before righting herself. Cullen followed suit, and they made their way out of the tavern and into the cool evening air in a haze of wine and ale. Stars gleamed brilliantly overhead, slightly outshone by a glowing full moon perched high in a velvety black night sky. Crickets chirped their evening melody and the humid breeze teased strands of Solona's golden hair as they walked through the dewy grass, the mage just half a step behind the Templar as she followed him.

After a moment, Cullen reached behind him to take her slender hand in his, the warmth radiating from it sending a flutter of butterflies throughout Solona's stomach. She entwined her fingers in his, reveling in the feel of his calloused palm against hers. Solona wasn't sure that she could remember a time when anything else had ever felt so perfectly right.

After a few moments walk, Solona could see a large pond in the distance. A rickety dock stretched out into faintly, glimmering water that was gently lapping against the shore in the breeze. Cullen led her out upon the swaying dock, its old boards creaking their protest at every footfall. He let go of her hand, leaving her feeling bereft, and began to pull his boots off one at a time, gesturing for her to sit beside him and do the same. They sat in drunken, companionable silence at the end of the dock for a long while, their feet trailing in the cool water, until the warm timbre of Cullen's voice broke the still air.

"This has always been my favorite place in all of Ferelden. Perhaps in all the world," he murmured, turning to stare at her through heavy lidded eyes. "You are the only thing that could make it more perfect."

Solona gave him a small, bashful smile, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze. His rough fingers found the smooth skin of her chin and lifted gently until her eyes met his. She chewed her bottom lip in uncertainty, now unable to tear her gaze from his as he smiled so confidently. When had the adorable, kind, shy young man in Kinloch Hold grown up to be so self-assured and alluring?

By the time she realized his face was moving toward hers, it was much too late to stop it. Their lips met, fitting together wonderfully in a kiss filled with so much pent up longing and desire that Solona never wanted it to end. When they finally pulled apart, gasping for breath, Solona's wine-drenched mind knew only one thing. She was dangerously close to never wanting to remember that anything before Honnleath had ever existed. She rested her head contentedly upon Cullen's sturdy shoulder and let the gentle rocking of the dock combined with the warmth of his body next to hers lull her to sleep.