A day out of Lothering they passed so near to Honnleath that Cullen saw faces he knew in the surrounding crowd. People ha been gathering more frequently as word of the Inquisition's progress spread through Ferelden, waving and cheering at them all. He refused to wave back as though it were a parade, but the rest of the group didn't hesitate to engage them. An off-shift Darren even blew kisses to the throng, which were received with enthusiastic squeals. Cullen looked at him through narrowed eyes. "You do realize they have no idea who you are?"

"Not for lack of trying!" said Darren. "I realize we can't all be quite so vaunted as you, brother, but a man can dream."

"They don't know who I am either," he said irritably.

Dorian laughed from his mount on the other side of Darren. "You may want to listen again."

He was snarling a curt rejoinder when a loud "Commander Cullen!" rang out in chorus. He reddened as he saw a knot of women waving and smiling broadly near the front of the crowd. When his eyes swept over them, one of the ladies jumped up and down and grabbed another's arm, speaking rapidly. The whole group of them redoubled their efforts.

"Wave to them," said Dorian.

Cullen shot him a horrified look, but at the mage's encouraging nod he slowly lifted his hand into a brief acknowledgment. A shriek rose, and against all logic the women became even more animated. He quickly averted his eyes and tried to focus on the road ahead. Unfortunately Cassandra was squarely in front of him, riding the back of a wagon and staring with cool eyes. When he met her eyes, she smirked - actually smirked - and Cullen blushed all the way to the tips of his hair. He moved his gaze to the horse underneath him. "Maker's breath," he muttered.

Dorian and his brother did a poor job of concealing their laughter. "You see, Commander?" said Dorian. "Now you've spread the Inquisition's goodwill to a small part of Thedas. Those ladies will have only fond words for your cause for the cost of a single wave. This is an ambassadorial mission, you know."

"I think I'll leave such outreach to the two of you," said Cullen. He frowned as he realized Dorian hadn't joined in the rest of the caravan's appeals to the crowd. "Why aren't you being more… friendly?"

Darren snorted, and Dorian drew himself up haughtily. "It would be most unbecoming of a guest in your country to make its citizenry turn their heads away from its native sons, as they inevitably would for someone of my caliber. And I am nothing if not a polite guest."

"Fereldans know true quality when they see it," said Darren as he waved. "And when it's merely a veneer. They're in no danger from the likes of you. Wave to the people."

To Cullen's surprise, Dorian grinned. "Don't you mean 'we'? Or have you given up citizenship?"

His brother didn't answer, and Cullen stared at them both. Neither man looked at him, and eventually Dorian turned to the crowd and raised his own hand. Cullen shook his head and rode to the front, away from Cassandra's eyes and undercurrents he was in no place to try to understand.

They stopped to rest before the final leg, and Cullen sat outside his tent to watch the stars well into the night. Sleep danced farther away the more he tried to chase it, and the blanket of lights above him were at least more interesting than a cloth ceiling.

"Commander!" said a sharp voice, and he sprang to his feet without thought. A small squad was marching toward him, pulling along a hooded figure with its hands bound. "Caught this one sneaking through the perimeter," the sergeant continued. "Apostate, by the look of him."

Cullen raised an eyebrow and the man flushed. "I'm sorry, ser, unregistered mage."

"Any injuries?"

"No ser, to him or us. He came quietly."

"I see," said Cullen. "And how far did he get?" When the sergeant looked at him in confusion, Cullen clarified, "Through the perimeter defenses. Where was he stopped?"

A private stepped forward into the silence. "We caught him at the second level, ser."

Cullen smiled and motioned them to remove the man's hood. It flipped back to reveal a very bald, very familiar head, with violet eyes that watched him in weary amusement. "So quickly," murmured Cullen, and Solas shrugged slightly. "Sergeant, you're out of Lieutenant Kilven's squad, correct?"

"Yes ser. She requested that I bring him to you personally, after we apprehended him."

She always did have a biting sense of humor. He wouldn't tell the man the ribbing that awaited him. "Tell her I said excellent work. You can leave the prisoner with me."

They were startled, but did as he said. When they were out of earshot, Cullen turned back to Solas. "Only the second level? You're losing your touch."

"Yes, I'm pleased you defend the Inquisitor so ably. The shifting pattern of the guards in between one another was ingenious," said Solas. He moved his hands, and the restraints fell to the ground. "You may want to teach your recruits that a mage requires more restraint than simple rope, however."

Cullen hissed, and Solas smiled at him. There were lines around his eyes and a heaviness in his bearing that Cullen didn't like. "You look exhausted," he said. "Why are you even here? I thought you were busy robbing elderly ladies of their silver."

"Yes, I was quite the master criminal," said Solas, eyes flashing. "It takes considerable effort to leave more than you found and still maintain the facade of banditry." Cullen shifted but didn't apologize. He didn't trust Solas. He hadn't since Corypheus fell and the man disappeared, leaving behind only the knowledge that he'd been instrumental in the darkspawn's rise to power. But Solas had returned, eventually, and Ellana loved him and Leliana trusted him, so Cullen had to accept him. They'd become wary allies since, but Cullen never stopped watching him. Testing him. Solas knew and seemed to enjoy the challenge.

He also never forgot that Cullen had once hoped to be his romantic rival. "As for why I'm here, I've been invited to a ball. By Ellana."

His mouth tightened as he said it, even with his smug tone, and Cullen couldn't help laughing. "Looking forward to it as much as I am, I see," he said. "Did you bring the Temple guardians?"

"No, they are… elsewhere. For now," said Solas. He turned his head to follow a noise, and his face softened. "Vhenan."

Ellana rose out of the darkness like the dawn. Cullen's breath caught in his throat at the adoration there, and the desperate need she didn't even try to hide. The feelings echoed in him so easily, for another face and another name, and he had to look away from their power. He only turned back when Ellana's voice drifted across the empty space, quiet and amused. "I was told we'd apprehended an enemy agent. Tell me, what was your object in infiltrating our camp?"

A smile played around her lips as Solas gave her a disapproving look. "Dalen, this is hardly the moment."

"That's no answer, spy," she said. "I can see you've been trained well, but my methods of interrogation never fail." Solas growled, and Ellana smiled beatifically. "I will know your purpose, one way or another."

Solas cut a look at Cullen, who made no move to leave. He was enjoying the elf's discomfort more than he would ever admit, and with less pain than he would have thought. While he and Cassandra had been more than satisfied, they'd never been anything other than themselves in the bedroom. There were no memories here. Though the idea of Cassandra interrogating him until he broke was surprisingly appealing.

The Inquisitor watched her lover implacably, tapping her foot. At last Solas sighed. "My purpose was to locate the Inquisitor, restrain her, and show her that the elves will not be ignored."

Ellana stepped closer to him and ran a hand over his arm. "All elves? Or one in particular?" He didn't answer, and she laughed. "And how would you have shown her?"

Solas smiled, sharp and predatory, and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Cullen was profoundly grateful he couldn't hear it after Ellana's face turned an alarming shade of red. She coughed once, then slanted her own look at Cullen. "Yes, well," she said, then coughed again. "I'm inclined to let your mission succeed then. Without delay."

She tugged Solas towards her distant tent. The elf's eyes had lost their exhaustion and were now focused on Ellana to the exclusion of everything else. He said nothing at all as they left, though Ellana at least called a goodnight over her shoulder. Cullen settled back in front of his tent with an envious heart and a rioting mind. The camp was quiet around him, with only a few clinks and mutters to give it life at all, but sleep would be even less likely now.

He heard footfalls next to him, but he didn't bother to look up until someone dropped to the earth near enough to touch. He leaned away, startled, and he turned just in time to see Cassandra deposit a bowl of soup on the ground. "Eat," she said.

He took a minute to find his voice. "It's midnight."

"Yes," she said. "Eat. You need to." She raised a single, perfect eyebrow. "Unless you were about to sleep."

She knew better. "No," he said, and picked up the bowl reluctantly. He lost some of his reluctance when he saw she had one of her own, as well as two small loaves of bread. "Didn't you have dinner?"

"No."

He took the bread from her and really studied her face. The moonlight washing over her made her seem pale. At least he'd thought it was the moon. But the moon certainly wasn't causing the gauntness in her cheeks or the worry lines around her eyes. He thought back to his weeks of unfinished meals. "I suppose it wouldn't do for two of the Inquisition's leaders to collapse only a day from their destination."

"Or three," she said. "Though Ellana seemed much more cheerful just now."

Lovers returning had that effect, but that was a delicate topic. "Well, Solas is a healer. When he deigns to be."

They ate in silence, and even with the wall between them he felt relaxed, more himself than he had since the morning his world had wrenched itself away from his grasp. No one was around to see them, and he didn't have to dissemble quite so much. He polished off his soup and bread with surprising vigor and turned to her with just a hint of pleading in his expression.

She understood and pulled a satchel around in front of her. Her hand dipped inside, then reappeared holding an apple and a wedge of cheese. He took them, then laughed as she reached back in for more bread and another apple. She handed them over as well. "You came prepared," he said.

"You need the food," she said. "You are much too thin."

He took a bite of cheese as he shrugged. "Probably good for me. I was getting out of condition," he said around his mouthful.

"You were not."

"I was! I could hardly get myself up the ladder," he said. "Any day I was going to have to start sleeping permanently on the couch."

She shook her head in familiar irritation. "That is untrue. You have always been very fit. Do not disparage yourself when you know it to be false."

A ghost of a smile danced across his lips. "For you, I'll try," he said, then looked away from the softening of her face. "Thank you for the meal, by the way."

Her hand drifted down to toy with the top of her boot. "Varric told me that you entreated him to remain a friend. You told him that we were not at war."

"We're not."

"Yes. But I had wondered…" She drifted off. "It is I who must thank you. A meal is nothing in comparison."

Silence fell again, less comfortably this time, and once he polished off the food he had nothing more to occupy his mouth. He frowned. This was why avoidance was easier. Eventually he asked, "Why are you still awake? I hope not for me."

"No," she said, but she didn't meet his eyes. "I had difficulty sleeping. I know it would be better to be rested, but I couldn't."

Crickets echoed over them in a quiet serenade while he waited for her to find the words she needed. She sighed heavily. "I have never been nervous before any battle. I've known I may die, more than once I have known this, but that is not enough for fear. If I cannot trust my shield to guard me, what can I trust?"

He said nothing, though he knew his answer. Him. She could trust him, always. But that wasn't what she was here to know.

"But this is not a fight," she continued, glancing at him. "This is a… a party. I have never been so terrified."

Cullen smiled, and she returned it ruefully. "I know what you mean," he said

"They need much of me. I don't know if I deserve their faith," she said. She scowled. "Leliana says I must be charming."

Laughter bubbled up inside of him, but he forced it down. Instead, he reached out and took her hand. "You are charming. Even Sera's warmed up to you. After her, diplomats will be no trouble," he said as firmly as he could. He squeezed her fingers in his own. Like a friend would.

"You're using your Commander Voice," she said. "The one that talks soldiers into battles they might not win."

"It's the only one I have," he said, shrugging. "And that doesn't mean they won't win. You do everything well. I'd put my coin on you any day."

"Thank you," she said. They sat for awhile, hands clasped like children, until his yawn drove her to her feet. "Forgive me. You're ready for sleep, of course."

He thought about protesting, wanting just a little more of her breathing next to him before she showed the world her charms, but she needed rest. "So are you, or you should be. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Cullen," she said, and the sound of it played around his heart until the Fade claimed him at last.

The Lothering Palace was large, expansive, and stuffed to capacity. As the nominal hosts of the event, they were directed to a large and close field for their quartering, and Cullen would have been happy to stay there until the whole wretched thing was done, but he was immediately shuffled with the rest of the leadership into the palace proper to receive indoor rooms. Alistair and Elissa met them in a grand entryway twice the size of Skyhold's.

Sera craned her neck to stare at the distant ceiling in disgust. "Some poor bugger's got a dangerous cleaning job up there. Not that anyone cares."

Josephine hissed at her with a polite smile on her face, but Alistair's eyes danced. "Oh no, we let the spiders run wild. Once they get large enough they're excellent training material for the guards," he said. "We've lost a few men, but they really should have been watching all the legs, not just the ones in front. I told them that was the key."

Varric and Bull laughed, but Elissa smacked her husband's arm. "Stop it. You promised to be dignified."

"You should have known better than to believe him," said Leliana with a grin. She stepped forward and threw her arms around them both in turn. "Maker bless you. It's been too long, you know."

"Yes, once the world stopped exploding with dangerous and inventive new threats, we seemed to hit a social lull," said Alistair. "But you do know how hard it is to get to your fortress, don't you? I'd sooner travel the Deep Roads again than those mountain passes."

Leliana huffed but was prevented from responding by an insistent throat clearing. "Leliana," said Josephine in her most diplomatic tones. Cullen eased away slowly and noticed the rest of them do the same. It was never good to be in the line of attack when the two advisors had a spat.

Fortunately Alistair settled his features into something resembling solemnity. "Forgive me, Lady Montilyet. I, Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden, along with my luminous Queen, do humbly welcome you to our little palace by the lake, a venue which I hope proves most successful for your Inquisition Birthday Party or whatever it is we're celebrating. Our rooms are yours, as are our servants, our guards, and our food. But not our wine," he said severely. "I learned my lesson when we had those Marchers here. It's not supposed to be a carry-out."

Josephine never wavered even with the giggles being smothered around her. "Thank you, Your Majesties. We appreciate your hospitality and condescension, particularly on such short notice."

The Queen inclined her head gracefully. "Not at all. We consider you our dear friends." She jabbed her husband in the side with her elbow.

"Yes, yes, we're all the best of friends here," said Alistair, looking past them. "But I see there are some people I don't know. And children!"

Cullen's eyes widened, and he turned around to see his family clustered nervously behind them, like refugees in a storm. They must have talked their way in somehow to meet the royals, and they looked like the awestruck civilians they were. Mia's face in particular was a blend of terror and adoration that made Cullen's heart sink. Josephine was going to kill him. Slowly. With words. But as the silence stretched out, he saw he had no choice.

"Your Highness - " he began.

Alistair shuddered. "Cullen. For you, of all people, to wound me in such a way is unpardonable. We did the formal bits already," he said. He turned to his wife. "Right dear?"

Elissa smiled, but it was a smile that held a promise of future trouble in its pressed lines. "If you say so."

Maker help him. "Alistair," he tried again. "This is my family. They were visiting me in Skyhold when these arrangements were… arranged." He winced as Sera laughed openly, then waved vaguely at the knot of relatives. "My sisters, Mia and Alice, and my brother Darren who serves in the detachment you recently sent us. And this is Mia's husband, Brandon, and their three children Peter, Katrine and Alistair."

He blushed as the Queen's eyebrows went up. "Alistair?" He couldn't tell if she was amused or offended. He prayed it was amused.

Mia stepped forward and curtsied so low he thought she was going to fall over. "Yes, Your Highness." Cullen held his breath, but Alistair very kindly said nothing. "We hoped he would grow into the wisdom and bravery of our sovereign."

"If that's the case, Elissa would have been a much better choice, I'm afraid," said Alistair. He bowed through Mia's protestations. "Nevertheless I thank you for the compliment, Mistress Rutherford."

"Walker," said Brandon shortly.

It was Dorian's turn to laugh as Mia glared daggers at her husband for daring to correct their King. Alistair didn't miss a beat. "Of course, Mistress Walker, exactly what I was going to say. Any family of Cullen's is a friend of mine. Templar regulations. Not that I made it to Templar, exactly, but I sort of round up," he said. He added in a loud whisper, "They don't like that."

Cullen rolled his eyes, and Alistair turned his grin on him. "Oh don't be that way. You're not even a member anymore," he said. He turned back to Mia with sudden courtly manners. "Now, can I interest you and your family on a tour of this building? Even I haven't found all of its corners yet. Or its spiders."

Mia nodded so quickly she almost scorched the air, and the rest of his family seemed interested enough. Brandon, at the least, clearly had no intention of leaving his wife alone with the man. Cullen could have told him that Alistair was like this with everyone, and that it hardly mattered. Elissa had captured him completely long ago. Still, it would give them all something to do. And Brandon wasn't the type of man to punch anyone. He hoped.

Josephine stepped forward, flustered, as Alistair extended his arm. "Your Highness - Alistair - we were hoping to beg a small portion of your time to speak with the Inquisitor about the preparations for tomorrow evening." Ellana grimaced, and Cullen guessed that Josephine was once again using the royal "we".

Alistair waved that away. "Heavens no, I would be as useful as a dress on a hurok. Work that out with my staff," he said. "Besides, I know from traveling. The Inquisitor is actually looking for a bath and a bed, in that order. Rest. Relax. There will be plenty of time for chats later." As the group receded into the depths of the castle, Cullen heard, "Now, Mistress Walker - or Mia, I should say - I absolutely refuse to be called Your Highness. But Alistair might cause confusion, I can see. A nickname is required. I was called "Hey you bastard" quite a bit in my youth, but perhaps something a little shorter?"

The voices faded away, and Bull said, "Well, that went pretty well. Where's the beds?" His roving eye and smiles at the various people in the room left no doubt that he was hoping for an afternoon of double occupancy. Josephine put a hand to her forehead.

A housekeeper stepped forward and Elissa motioned the group into a nearby door. While they walked he sidled up next to her and Leliana. "I apologize for that," he said in low tones.

"There's no need," she said. "He was ecstatic to have a reason to leave us. It was probably the nicest gift you could have given him."

"No, I mean the um, adoration."

She smiled, but it held the same dangerous quality that he'd seen all those years ago when she'd sliced the Kinloch Circle to pieces to save them all. "Half of the world is in love with my husband, Commander. Your sister seems like a nice enough woman. Don't worry about her."

He didn't reply, though truthfully it wasn't Mia he was worried about. Then he ran back over her words and swallowed hard. Surely the Hero of Ferelden didn't mean she would… He stopped that line of thought. She'd commanded him not to worry. He wouldn't. He was good at commands.

Leliana pulled Elissa away and started talking quietly about something it likely wasn't worth his life to eavesdrop on, so he fell back into the group and half-listened as they laughed and joked. They wound their way through an expansive guest wing, shedding people as they found their rooms. They'd all been given their own quarters, to his surprise, even Solas and Ellana, and he was grateful to be spared the awkwardness of explaining that he and Cassandra were no longer sharing. If they'd even known they might be. Their relationship hadn't lasted long at all, in the scheme of things.

When they reached his own room he stepped inside gratefully. He hadn't seen where Cassandra would be, and he didn't want to know. Later he'd meet with Elissa, the military mind of Ferelden, to talk about security. His things would arrive, and he would unpack and prepare for an assault of formality.

But right now, all he wanted to do was take a nap.