"Well this can't be a good sign," Dorian said as he kicked against a large bone. Artemis hoped it came from some kind of animal and not the previous occupant of this small cell they now shared. It had been dark in the cell, but two mages without staffs were still capable of magic and tiny lights were now hovering in the room to illuminate their despair. "Maybe we can craft it into a key," Dorian continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Artemis tried another spell on the door, there weren't a lot she knew or could handle without a staff but none seemed to do much of anything. Dorian had already said there were probably protections in place to stop them from using magic to escape, which made sense considering how much magic was used in Tevinter; protection against magic was probably needed in Tevinter more than anywhere else.
"You know, if you had only sought your romantic fulfilment outside of the Inquisition we could've been spared this horribly dank stint of co-habitation," Dorian said.
"Yes, because I am the only one getting romantically entangled with colleagues, hmm?" Artemis cocked her head.
Dorian looked at her without blinking. "I'm certain I don't know what you mean."
"Ah yes, because Iron Bull is the very picture of discretion."
"He told you?" Dorian exclaimed.
"I would call it bragging, actually."
"When?"
"A few weeks ago, we were drinking in the Herald's Rest, he was probing me about Cullen actually. Maybe he thought I'd open up to him if he told me about you."
Dorian let out a frustrated sigh. "Well, so much for discretion."
"Did you really expect that from Bull? I mean the man told me about every conquest of his in the Inquisition."
"I suppose I should have been prepared," Dorian took a deep breath, "to be honest I had other things on my mind."
"I bet." Artemis smiled.
"Please don't mock me."
"I'm not mocking you. Why would I? If you're happy together…"
"I'm not sure we are together, I'm not certain what we are actually."
"What would you want it to be?" Artemis asked.
"I… I'm not sure to be honest," Dorian crossed his arms. "What about you and the commander?" He raised his eyebrows. "Clearly something happened the night he disappeared." A crooked smile appeared on his face.
"I suppose that is another rumour going around Skyhold?"
"You mean the one where the Inquisitor is found unconscious, dressed in only the commander's cloak? Yes, that one is quite popular," Dorian flashed a crooked grin.
"I wasn't naked under that cloak!"
"You are in the rumours."
Artemis threw her hands in the air. "Who knew armies were so gossipy?"
"So, are you and the commander finally entangled?" Dorian probed.
Artemis sighed. "Who knows, I mean something did happen, clearly, but I don't even know if he'd be willing –"
Dorian's sudden burst of laughter stopped her from speaking. "You aren't sure if he'd be willing? After the past weeks? What do you need, an actual proposal?"
"I just mean, he's so… disciplined, I'm not sure he'd be willing to be so unprofessional."
"Falling in love is unprofessional?"
"You know what I mean."
"Yes I do, I also know you are being silly. I have seen you two interact over the past, well, since joining the Inquisition really, and I can tell you that man loves you. I felt you were the one resisting these past weeks. He seemed very willing."
Artemis smiled a little. She was happy to hear someone else say they thought Cullen would want to be with her even if she was Inquisitor. "All this is a moot point of course, unless we manage to get away from here with Cullen."
"Well, considering our past successes it seems foolish to bet against us."
Artemis laughed a little.
There was a noise outside the cell and then the door opened. A tall and lanky looking mage entered. She was wearing a strange armour Artemis had never before, it looked like it had magic embedded into it, strange lights seem to flicker around it. The staff she carried ended in two battling dragons. Her long black hair was elaborately braided, a single coloured thread running through the braid.
"You are Inquisitor Trevelyan," the mage stated. Artemis didn't respond. "I am Olcinia Synnoda," the mage said. She took a step forward. Olcinia glanced at Dorian, she must know he was Tevinter as well, but she didn't speak to him. "Would you follow me?" she asked Artemis and gestured towards the door. Artemis looked at Dorian, who nodded at her, Artemis nodded back and followed Olcinia out of the room. Despite Dorian's approval, Artemis still felt uncomfortable walking through the door and leaving him alone.
Cullen was sitting in the sun. By all accounts this was a perfect day, but he couldn't relax. In the back of his mind a small nagging worry existed. There was something familiar about this feeling he felt washing over him every day he woke up. When did he wake up? He couldn't really picture waking up in this small home he was always repairing. This feeling of contentment, a warmth washing over him, why did he distrust it so? Was it just that a life of being dragged into one battle after another had made him incapable of sitting in the sun and just enjoying its warmth? Why was this so familiar? Cullen looked into the distance, they were so close to where he spent his youth, he could walk to the house he grew up in, but he never did, did he? He was always here.
Artemis was nowhere to be seen. Strange that Cullen would end up spending his life with a mage. Not what he imagined when he entered a circle for the first time. Mages had scared him a little, but he had wanted to help them. Especially Solona Amell. Now he could smile at the thought that his first big crush was on the woman who'd later become 'the Hero of Ferelden', but for the longest time he'd only felt guilt over what he had said to her after she'd freed him in the circle…
Cullen felt a tight sensation build in his chest, the feeling you got when you read a report knowing it was bad news. He looked around the fields and the small house. This isn't –
"Cullen!" Artemis appeared from behind him. "Look what I found!" Cullen got up and smiled, immediately taken in by her enthusiasm and forgetting his worries.