Chapter 95

"You have a hole in your roof."

"Yes, yes," Cullen replied distractedly as he read the reports. The Inquisition's forces had yet to return from the Arbor Wilds. They were a sitting target if Corypheus chose to strike. "What's the status?"

"Nothing. I saw you were out of the medicinal tea, so I brought you more."

"What?" Oh no. She's in my office! Cullen stood up immediately, bumping his thighs against his desk. "Mage Amell! I mean, Warden Amell! Err, Archivist Amell! My mind was elsewhere! I didn't realise it was you."

Amell smiled and waved it off. "It's all right. I know you have a lot to do. I shan't be here long. Where do you want me to put your tea?"

"Oh." That she wouldn't be there long both relieved and upset him and Cullen hated himself for it. "Anywhere is fine."

"Shall I put it on your desk?"

"Of course."

He tried not to watch her as she came up to his desk. He really did. But he failed. He always failed. Always had, ever since he was a nineteen-year-old boy, given charge of her at the Calenhad Circle. If she was near, concentration was furthest from his mind. Not that she demanded his attention, no. She never would. She was a sweet, gentle girl. Now, she was a veteran Warden, had helped rebuild the Fereldan Wardens after the Fifth Blight and rubbed shoulders with the Hero of Ferelden.

"You can sit down, Commander. You need not rise for me."

"Oh." He hadn't even realised he hadn't sat down. "Yes." Cullen sat down. "Uhh. Old habits, I suppose."

Templars on-duty never sat. He considered that reminding her of that time was probably a mistake, and mentally slapped himself. Though she smiled, he was convinced he had offended her somehow. Perhaps if he stopped breathing–

"I remember. I always did wonder whether you needed to sit. I wanted to offer you a seat many times while you watched over me as I studied late into the night, but I never had the courage."

This was brand new information. Cullen half wanted to pull at his collar.

"We were trained for that. Standing exercises."

"You're joking."

"Perish the thought. We had to stand in full plate, stock still, for a whole day before they let us do any real work."

"Sounds like a chore."

"It was... necessary." He paused a beat. "At the time."

"I know." She smiled again. She was always smiling at him. "How is working at the Inquisition in comparison?"

She was making small talk; she wouldn't be going anywhere soon. Cullen motioned for her to sit as he pondered his answer.

"It has been... challenging, but rewarding. It gave me a chance to prove to myself... well." He waved it off. "After everything that happened in Kirkwall, Cassandra recruited me and gave me this job. I owe it to her."

Amell nodded. "She saw someone who commanded respect and could inspire those who needed a voice."

Cullen felt his face heat up. "I wouldn't, ahh, I wouldn't-"

"My cousin told me everything you did for the mages of Kirkwall." She nodded in approval. "Knowing what you've been through, it must have been hard. I'm glad you've come as far as you have. I'm proud of you."

Knowing what you've been through, it must have been hard.

I'm glad you've come as far as you have.

I'm proud of you.

Those three sentences put together were too good to be true. Cullen lowered his gaze to his desk and stared it for a long time.

"I'm not."

"Hmm?"

"I'm-" He licked his lips. His throat was parched. Cullen drank some water from the carafe. While it helped, it didn't do the job completely. Nothing ever could or would. He was certain of it.

With a deep sigh, Cullen placed his elbows on his desk and interlaced his fingers.

"Archivist Amell-"

"Call me Solona."

That was much too intimate and he wouldn't touch it with a tent pole.

"Archivist Amell," he repeated, "do you have some time to spare?"

She leaned in, attentive. "Is something the matter?"

"There are a few things that I wish to tell you. They have been on my mind for a while, and seeing as how the next order of business is dealing with Corypheus directly, I want to tell you before-"

"Tell me."

He nodded. She understood.

"For eleven years," he began after a while, "I have been telling myself that you hated me-"

"Why?"

She sounded bewildered. Looked it, too. Cullen blinked.

"I thought it was obvious. What happened at the Circle-"

"Some mages practiced blood magic and you were tortured by demons for weeks. That's what happened."

Cullen shook his head. "I called for your death and that of everyone you ever knew. That's what happened."

"Cullen, you were–"

"Tired? Dehydrated? Sleep-deprived? In lyrium withdrawal? Yes. But it doesn't change what I did."

She said nothing to that. Neither did he. Silence stretched on for a long moment before he found the nerve to continue.

"I said... many unkind, undeserved, and deeply malicious things to you." He kept his eyes fixed on the desk. "Those were our parting words. Rather, my parting words to you. You saved us all, and my behaviour was... inexcusable."

"Cullen–"

He held up a hand to stop her. "Let me finish. I had to suffer Kirkwall to let go of my anti-mage mindset. I went there to get away from what had happened in Ferelden. I just never could. I thought that you hated my guts, and I thought that would help me distance myself from the incident. It didn't. All it did was enforce my guilt and regret. Knowing that you hated me just made me miserable."

"Why?"

"Because you mattered. Because what you thought of me mattered." He sighed. "I harboured some... feelings for you while at the Circle."

"I know."

Cullen stared at her. "What?"

"I knew," she repeated, smiling slightly. "It was noticeable. And very flattering." She looked down at her lap. "And it went both ways."

Don'ttouchthatdon'ttouchthatdon'ttouchthatdon'ttouchthat-

Cullen cleared his throat. "Anyway. What I mean to say is that you were... important to me. At the time. And knowing you hated me–"

"Did I ever say that?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Did I ever tell you that I hated you?"

"Well. No. But I convinced myself–"

"You convinced yourself wrong." She shook her head. "I don't hate you, Cullen. I never did."

"But... you must have surely-"

"You were innocent. You were hurt. I understood. You weren't being intentionally malicious. The Cullen I knew, the templar who watched over me, was a good, honourable man. He was kind, and sweet, and had my best interests in mind. He would never hurt me willingly." She reached out and placed her hand over his. "There was nothing to forgive in the first place."

Cullen swallowed. "But the last words exchanged between us-"

"Were unfortunate, and I regretted never tracking you down to make amends. I was afraid you would never respond to any letters I may send your way." She ducked her head. "You said you were tortured by demons masquerading as me. I did not want to remind you of that."

Cullen said nothing.

"So when Alistair wrote to me about you, I was happy. I wanted to help you, but I did not want to offend, so I sent the tea to Alistair and not to you directly. I was looking forward to seeing you, despite Aedan's passing. I thought it would be nice to catch up with someone I used to know long ago. I was trepidatious of course, but," she smirked slightly, "I believe I saw entirely too much of you?"

"That was truly unfortunate. It won't happen again."

"That would be unfortunate."

That was the sauciest thing he'd ever heard her say; Cullen choked on his spit. He started coughing and pounding his chest and reached for the carafe, only to find that Amell was already there by his side, thumping his back.

"Look up," she said and he did. "Now swallow."

The coughing abated soon after that and Amell handed him the carafe, smiling apologetically.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to give you a heart attack. My cousin was giving me... flirting lessons earlier."

Cullen nearly choked on the water but saved himself this time.

"F-flirting?" he asked, pulling at his collar. We're up in the bloody mountains! It shouldn't be this hot!

Amell nodded, fiddling with her fingers. "Yes."

"But why?"

"I thought... well. I was telling Marian that seeing you every day had... somewhat rekindled the youthful infatuation I had for you... and she suggested I pursue it this time instead of wallowing in regret."

Wait a minute.

Rekindled the youthful infatuation?

She... she likes me? In an adult way?

Now? Here?

"Uhhh..."

"It was untoward and unwelcome and I apologise," she said quickly. "It's been ten years, of course you would have moved on. Silly me for thinking–"

"No!" he interjected urgently. "That is to say, I haven't. No."

"No?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"I see."

"Indeed."

"This is awkward."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"I am very bad at this."

"I can't claim to be any better."

Amell looked at him, her rosy cheeks pink with embarrassment. He knew his own situation mirrored her.

"Why haven't you moved on?"

"Because nobody I've met could ever hold a candle to you."

"Oh."

Being a strategist, Cullen suddenly realised that this was one of those moments where if he didn't take advantage, it would haunt him for the rest of his days. She had basically said she was... feeling things for him, after all.

So, he cleared his throat again, and said, "I was... fully expecting to face your rage when I learnt you were coming here. Yet you arrived, and I got nothing of the sort. You smiled at me when you saw me, the way you used to. And it reminded me of... how I used to feel. And that brought some... feelings… back."

Amell said nothing. She was busy staring at her lap, though she had a big smile on her face. Cullen couldn't help the one that was forming on his face as well. It was all so absurd, but-

"Would you like to take a walk with me sometime, Commander?"

That, decidedly, was not absurd. That was as clear as invitations went. Cullen looked down at all the reports strewn over his desk. Then he looked up at her.

"As it happens, I have some time on my hands right now... Solona."

The smile she gave him was blindingly radiant and, Cullen thought, he could get used to seeing that.

"Really? Not busy calibrating the trebuchets, Commander?"

"Not tonight."

However, the moment was interrupted by green light flooding in through the windows behind him, followed by a crackle like a whip of thunder. Solona was already looking out over his shoulder, her brows drawn and her jaw set. Cullen turned around to see what was happening for himself, only to find that the Breach had re-opened in the sky.

Corypheus had come for them.