A/N: Thank you to 0wallie0 for beta reading! I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

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One of the first things Cullen had done when they'd gotten to Skyhold—after a quick tour of the battlements, of course—had been to set up a small station where he could receive and send reports. It was just inside the gate, near the infirmary that had sprung up as the injured were guided into their new—and hopefully more secure—haven. It was central enough that he could get reports from anywhere in the castle in a decent amount of time, and he was fairly pleased with the simplicity that had gone into this. Everything was falling into place, almost well enough that he could imagine the defeat at Haven had merely been a hiccup in their plans.

Almost.

Still, even with the promise of safety within these walls, there was so much to do. The castle needed to be cleared of debris, repairs were in order, the armory needed to be stocked, supply lines established, soldiers housed, food lines secured…the list went on. While technically some of the matters didn't strictly fall under his jurisdiction, he'd taken them on anyway. The more work he had, the less time he had to think about Kinloch Hold or Kirkwall…or Haven.

Maker, ill luck seemed to follow him.

Or perhaps it was simply an odd luck. As he considered it, he reached down to feel his pocket for a small trinket he kept with him at all times. It was a coin, one his brother Branson had given to him years ago, when he'd left for the Order. Even though templars weren't supposed to have anything with them from outside of the Order, he'd kept it, a reminder of the life he'd left behind, and the people he wanted to keep safe.

It was there, sitting comfortably in his vest's pocket. With a sigh, he listened to the next scout's report and then sent him off to see about finding cutlery and some cooks for the kitchens. The next report was on scouts' successes in finding wild game in the surrounding area, and the next was about the templars who had been due at Haven. They were making their way to Skyhold, and the message said they would be able to arrive in a week or so—possibly after the mages. That was not something he was looking forward to, though he prayed any skirmishes between the factions would be minor.

The last thing they needed now was to have the inquisition tear itself apart.

They'd arrived at Skyhold the night before, though very few had gotten any sleep. There was just too much that required attention. The need to be better prepared this time weighed on everyone's minds, spurring them on.

Cullen sent a particularly zealous scout named Jim to see where Leliana was in regards to contacting their suppliers of goods, hoping that he would be able to gauge what renovations could be prepped for before their first shipments of lumber and stone arrived. As the scout disappeared up the stairs into the upper courtyard, Cullen took in a long, slow breath and looked around.

For the first time in what felt like ages, there was no one present to give him any reports. While it wouldn't last, it would give him a chance to catch up on other matters, including the few field reports he had in regards to the Hinterlands and surrounding areas. He'd been setting them aside as more and more immediate matters were brought to light.

Cullen gathered them slowly, glancing around every few seconds to see if any other scouts were coming his way. His legs were stiff from standing in one place after all that walking, and his back was beginning to ache. At least it wasn't his head for once.

He'd barely slept at all in the last…well, he barely slept as it was, but in the last few weeks, it had been worse. His dreams had constantly nettled him, berating him for the shoddy job he'd done in protecting Haven.

He needed to be sure that people were safe here. He should have insisted on better fortifications for Haven. There should have been more trebuchets. There were a million little things that could have been done that would have averted or, in the very least, lessened the disaster there.

Well, assuming there hadn't been an archdemon. That creature tended to put a kink into every one of his theories on how they could have better defended themselves.

No one was coming by.

He set the reports down again and stretched his arms over his shoulders and then cracked his back, shifting his weight to kick each of his legs. He needed to move.

Or to sit. Though…his legs might cramp up if he did that.

After a short internal debate, he decided it was worth it to try. His other option, aside from reports, was to join in with the clearing of debris, and that wasn't much of an option, truth be told. He'd managed to help for about an hour that morning before the scouts searching for him had become more cumbersome to the task than anything, and he'd excused himself from the manual labor if only to keep the area clear for people who weren't having to stop every few minutes to listen to a new update about another part of the keep.

It irked him that the best way he could help was simply to stay out of the way.

Well, that and coordinate efforts across the castle.

Still…it felt like he was cheating, somehow. Taking the easy road, so to speak, though someone had to do this job, and he did already have the title.

Even as Cullen picked up the papers and looked around for a quiet spot to sit where he wouldn't be tripping people coming and going, soft footfalls sounded from behind him. He turned, fully expecting another scout ready to let him know that some part of the castle was structurally unsound or damaged or…

Instead, he found Herald Finley.

Rather than her usual braid, Finley's hair was up in a cluttered bird's nest of a bun on the top of her head, long, long wisps of orange falling down around her face and the back of her neck.

He felt a tingling shiver through him that he tried to ignore. He tried to push whatever it was from his mind, not wanting to seem unprofessional.

"Commander." She dipped her head.

He straightened up and then bowed sharply. "Herald."

Her lips quirked as she began to speak, and for just an instant, he thought he saw a softness sparkle in her eyes. It was gone in a blink. "I wasn't sure if I should bring this to you or not, but we're running low on healing herbs." Her brow pinched together as she glanced back at the infirmary. Solas and the Chargers' Stitches—as well as a dozen other healers—were busy tending to the wounded.

Cullen frowned when he thought he saw a blonde boy there, too, for just a moment. Hadn't he wanted to speak with the Inquisitor about that boy? Why was it…?

When he looked back down at her, he saw that she was waiting for an answer, and he rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze when he noticed how the light played on her skin. Maker, there was so much work to be done. "I think that might fall more into Leliana's realm. She can likely use one of her birds to contact any sources we had, prior to our relocation."

"Of course," Finley nodded and turned to head up the stairs. "I hope I wasn't distracting you from your work."

"Not at all," he insisted. Without thinking, he reached out and caught her hand. She paused, surprised. She'd given up on her makeup for the time being, and the circles that ringed her eyes were from exhaustion. She was paler than usual, as well, her dozens and dozens of freckles sticking out all the more.

If he wasn't careful, Cullen could get lost trying to memorize them.

Even as she gave him a questioning look, he saw a servant darting past them and caught their attention with a quick word. As the young woman stopped, he asked her for her cause and, finding it complete, motioned up the way Finley had been heading. "Do you know the way up to Sister Leliana's station?" She nodded. "Would you tell her that we are in need of more healing herbs? Perhaps her scouts can look for them as they explore the area?" After she again nodded and hurried off, Cullen turned back at Herald Finley. "You look like you could use a rest."

She gave him a stern look, though it wavered easily enough. "There are a great many injured to tend to."

"Let Solas and the others treat them for now. Everyone needs a break from time to time. Yourself included."

Looking past him, she seemed to debate it before finally motioning to him with her free hand. When he realized he was still holding her other, he let go. "What of you? Every time I look over here, I see you working, head bent forward, reading reports or giving orders…you barely give yourself time to breathe."

He almost asked her why she'd be watching him, but stopped himself, feeling oddly self-conscious.

When he didn't immediately respond, she bobbed her head in farewell and started back toward the infirmary. Her movements were sluggish. She was working herself to the bone.

Tucking the Hinterlands reports under an arm, he darted after her. "I was actually about to go for a walk, to clear my head. Care to join me? If nothing else, we can appraise some of Skyhold's less traveled areas." When she paused to eye him as though she suspected he was lying, he gave her a quick half smile. "They're expecting you to be gone, anyway. I'd wager whoever sent you to find more herbs was hoping to give you a short reprieve."

She reached up to brush some loose hair behind her ear and then fell into playing with her sleeves. "I suppose a short walk can't hurt."

With a nod, he turned on his heels and motioned in the direction of the barn, waiting to set their pace until she'd drawn even with him.

The two walked on in a comfortable silence, letting their gazes wander as they inspected the castle. Cullen found it refreshing, despite his drive to keep busy. So much was going on. As he took the time to really look around, he could hear two women arguing about where scaffolding would go up and which walls to fix first. One of them had been sketching out different sections of the castle. A dozen papers were rolled up and tucked under one arm as she pointed enthusiastically at another sketch and then a wall.

Most people, however, were clearing away fallen debris. Still others were taking measurements for merchants' stalls. The barn seemed to be fairly intact, and so they'd set about bringing any pieces of wood or stone that might be reusable down to that area to be examined and cut to suit their needs. Warden Blackwall was assisting with that, and Cullen could just make out Sera and Varric testing the durability of some of the larger pieces of fallen support beams and the like that had been dragged out of the main hall—Sera looked more like she was attacking them—as Blackwall hoisted a few rotten planks and started out toward the discard pile. When Herald Finley waved in their direction, Warden Blackwall gave them a small wave back, and Cullen noticed rather suddenly that the man was shirtless.

Without meaning to, he glanced down at Herald Finley to see if she what her reaction was, but her attention had already moved elsewhere. Though…her cheeks did look a little flushed now…

Cullen silently cursed himself, feeling oddly foolish for caring whether she would be interested Warden Blackwall or not.

When he found himself considering that the warden was a bit old for her anyway, Cullen tried to force his mind elsewhere, sure that there was guilt written all over his expression. He had enough to do without debating who his Herald might fancy.

Their.

Their Herald.

She wasn't just…

Maker, help him.

He tried to think of anything else, aside from the young woman walking beside him and the growing sense of dread that this walk had been a huge mistake.

Everyone was doing their part to make Skyhold their own. Cassandra, Bull, and the Chargers were clearing out debris. Lady Vivienne was writing to her contacts, ones she hadn't called upon in months, to get more aid, as well as books and other resources that might not immediately spring to Cullen's mind. Clothing had been one of them. Cobblers were needed, tailors too. Dorian was apparently assisting as well with debris, though he was burning it to ash once it was piled near the barn.

With everything that needed to be done, he doubted anyone would be getting proper rest in the next few days.

Hopefully that would change soon. It had to. With all they'd been through, people couldn't keep going like this.

He and Finley had wound their way up a few flights of stairs and onto the western ramparts.

Their first batch of supplies would be arriving in three or four days' time, thanks to Bree Cadash. As soon as they'd seen the castle, she'd convinced Leliana to send a messenger bird to her…family for assistance. Cullen wasn't sure they would want to be indebted to a carta, but they could hardly turn the help down as they were.

It had been a wretched thing to decide what would be fixed first. There was so much to consider—which buildings needed it the most, whether they should set defensibility or livability as priorities in the repairs, et cetera—and he doubted they'd actually know for sure until they were directing the resources to their destinations. Fortunately, they were relatively close to Orzammar. In addition to Bree's assistance, Varric and Josephine had written to a few other connections to get them cheap materials, though the inquisition hadn't heard back from them yet.

Cullen wasn't sure how they were getting anything when most of their coffers lay beneath feet and feet of snow in Haven.

That, however, was Josephine's purview, and she handled such things with an ease that would always elude him.

The wind wound its way to the hold, feeling like a gentle spring breeze as it roused Cullen from his thoughts and drew him back into the present. Maker, but the change was welcome. Cullen closed his eyes, letting it wash over him.

A soft laugh made him open one eye to peer over at Finley. She was leaning on her elbows against the battlements, watching him.

"I didn't think you liked the wind."

He scratched at the back of his neck and then let his hand fall down to rest on the pommel of his blade. "You have to admit this is nicer than…anything we've had to deal with thus far."

"It is nice here."

He matched her smile with an earnest one before, quite abruptly, he realized just how alone he was with her. There were so many people bustling about below, and yet here they were by themselves. She seemed to notice the same thing and looked away, a slight rosy hue flushing her cheeks and neck. He turned his head away as well, coughing to clear his throat.

She pushed away from the battlements, continuing along their path and wandering toward an old wooden door. That any of them were still intact had to be some kind of magic of its own. She tried the handle and bit back a laugh when it came off in her hand. As she pushed it open and peered inside, he walked over to her, following on the adventure.

He had to have come through this area before on his first inspection, yet somehow he hadn't taken the time to really see it. The tower's room was a decent size, with a rotted ladder leading up to another floor. Standing at the base of the ladder, he could see holes in the roof. Small slits for windows lined the western wall, while all three others sported a door of their own.

Finley was already opening the eastern one, peering out to see that it led to the path over where his current station had been set up. He tried the northern door. It led back to the ramparts.

"This is nice," Herald Finley murmured, wandering back toward the ladder. She lightly pressed on one of the rungs, and it snapped beneath her touch. "I guess we can't explore more until it gets fixed up a bit."

"This would make a nice office," Cullen murmured, walking back to the middle. When she tilted her head, curious, he felt something catch in his throat and found himself coughing to clear it, yet again. "I mean, it's very central. Easy access from almost anywhere in the castle. And I can see out into the valley, too…" He paused when he realized he'd all but claimed the room. "Assuming Leliana won't want it for her birds, of course."

"I think she prefers the central tower." Finley shrugged. "And, as you said, you'll need to be able to get quickly to any part of the castle, should it be under attack." She made a sweeping motion to the room with one arm. "Twas made for a commander."

He couldn't help a small smile as he walked back to her. "You think?"

"Most definitely."

Cullen led the way out the eastern door to see if the walkway led to the main building or if it was some side passage that went down to the kitchens or elsewhere. They'd made it about halfway across the walkway when he heard someone call to him. Peering over the low wall spanning the length, he saw two scouts standing at his station, looking about rather helplessly, as though leaving would undoubtedly make him appear and make him cross that they weren't there. Ser Barris was the one who had seen him. He gave Cullen a quick salute, and the other two followed his gaze and suit.

"I'll be down in a moment," he called, sighing as he cast an apologetic look toward Herald Finley. "Duty calls."

"I should get back, as well," she murmured. "No shortage of people who need healing, unfortunately."

"That is a shame." He opened the door for her and followed her back into the room. He wasn't sure why he bothered closing it or the next one after them when they were in such disrepair, but it made her smile each time.

The walk back seemed so much faster than it had been going, and it was over far too quickly. When they reached the lower courtyard, Finley gave him another nod and picked up her pace. As she turned away, the light caught her hair just right, making it shine golden and auburn and crimson, like fire tapering off against her slender neck.

That stopped him in his tracks.

Cullen had never noticed how beautifully delicate she looked before.

He didn't realize he'd stopped in his tracks to watch her until a scout stepped in between them, blocking his view of her. He snapped out of his thoughts, barely able to keep up as the man dutifully began his report. Cullen fought not to narrow his eyes. This was the same scout from before, Jim.

After he'd finished giving the scouts and Ser Barris new orders, he wandered back to his makeshift desk, glancing over toward the infirmary to see if he could spot the Herald amid all the chaos. He caught a glimpse of her for just a moment before she disappeared into one of the tents with another healer, arms laden with bandages.

As he leaned against his table, his earlier aches barely a memory, he realized that he'd never gotten around to reading any of his reports on the Hinterlands.