The trip back to Skyhold seemed to take a perversely long time, but the one comfort was that Cassandra let him stay in her ship's quarters on the new journey. She protested being given a cabin at all, but not as strenuously as she could have. And though she was just as sick on the new crossing, at least Cullen got to hold her and whisper soothing words while she groaned. In the rare moments of calm waters, she even rubbed his back with a beautiful, aching softness that was the only thing that kept his worries at bay.

"What if we're too late?" he asked the first night, running his fingers through her hair.

"We will not be," she said firmly. She tucked herself in more tightly to his side. "Ellana was resolved to have you present, and she must be willing for it to succeed. Besides, we cannot make the ship go faster than it already is."

He chuckled despite himself. "You're always so practical. And smart, and deadly, and courageous, and absolutely breathtaking even when you're green around the edges."

"Don't remind me." She rebuffed his attempt to seek her mouth, so he settled for the corner of her arched eyebrow. It raised even higher. "I find it hard to believe you wish to… canoodle at a time like this."

"Well, as you said, we are stuck on this ship. With nowhere to go. Alone. And I've been very good for a very long time." She snorted, and he gave her a mock glare. "That was different. A training courtyard annex is simply where physical energy is dispelled after the sparring is over." He used a lecturing tone that made her elbow him in the stomach.

"Yes, I noticed you were full of energy."

"I still have some left," he said with a hopeful smile.

"I have no doubt. But not now," she said. She looked at him pleadingly. "Please. Can we not just be like this? For a time?"

"Of course," he said. "I'm sorry."

"As am I. It's just that the movement -" She broke off as the ship listed, and he rubbed her shoulder sympathetically.

"Why don't we strike a bargain? You continue to reassure me that everything will be fine when we reach Skyhold, and I'll tell you more about how you make being seasick look so appealing."

She smiled reluctantly when he kissed her temple. "I know what your plan is," she said. He tried to look innocent, but he could feel the smirk on his face rising unbidden. She nodded. "You think you will be charming and attentive and handsome and I will forget any thoughts of aiding my country."

His smirk faded. "I never said I wanted you to forget Nevarra. I just don't want you to forget me."

"That would be quite impossible," she said. "And the Inquisition is the more pressing matter for now. But I don't wish you to believe me decided to remain at Skyhold."

Practical and honest both. It shouldn't be possible for a woman to dash his rising hopes in a way that made him love her more, but she'd always been full of contradictions. He was still trying to think of something to say that didn't sound too supportive or too afraid when she added, "I am decided that I will not choose anything that takes me from you, however. Whatever we do, we will be together. If that is what you want."

"Oh, it's what I want," he said quickly. He grinned again, even more crookedly than before. "So was it my charm or my tongue that tipped the balance in my favor?"

She blushed becomingly, but her eyes were serious when she looked at him. "It was when I believed you might never wake, and I knew I would never be complete again."

Tears pricked at his eyes, and he gathered her to him to kiss her in earnest. She let him, and they breathed each other in for some time. After unreality and Fade dreams and the crashing of the ancient past with the terrifying present, the solidity and unrelenting strength of this woman was everything he needed.

When he pulled away and smoothed his hands over her face, her mouth twitched just a little. "I would like to continue training you in the Nevarran style, though," she said. "You still have much to learn. After we save the world, of course."

He tucked her back to his side and kissed the top of her head. "After we save the world, I'm at your disposal, Princess."

During the times she was too ill to stand even his presence, his anxiety took him to pacing the ship, up and down and around until the crew was just barely polite when he crossed their paths. He knew he was a terrible shipmate and a worse captain, but his eyes constantly strayed to the looming shore and the hard day's ride that awaited them when they reached it. Solas was persuasive. Ellana was dying. She might not be able to wait.

Dorian caught up with him on one of his endless circles, and he slowed to match the mage's more deliberate gait. The Tevinter man had barely looked at him since Darren's declarations, and Cullen hadn't wanted to force him into conversation. Either Dorian did love him, and he was destined for disappointment, or he loved his brother, and his heart was already bruised. No matter which, Cullen couldn't think of anything to say to make the situation less awkward.

Luckily Dorian had never been known as the shy, retiring type. "So, when will Cassandra be recovered enough to duel me for your favor? My sword work is much improved after Nevarra, and I think I could give her a stiff challenge," he said lightly.

Cullen shot him a sideways look and tried to match his joking tone. "Perhaps you should try to catch her before she's recovered, then, if you want the duel to be long enough to be worthy of the name."

"You wound me with your lack of confidence, Commander," said Dorian. He fluttered a hand over his heart in mock agony. "I know both a low guard and a high guard now. I'm practically a master warrior."

"So when will you be applying for the front lines?"

"I may allow a few more weeks of practice before submitting my name. After all, I'm not to be trusted around soldiers," he said. His tone was still joking, but Cullen knew from his face they were moving into more serious territory. He stopped their walk and leaned on the railing at the rear of the boat, letting their words be caught by the wind and carried harmlessly to sea.

"I think you show remarkably good taste in them, actually," said Cullen gently.

Dorian smiled ruefully. "With any other man, I'd be certain he was speaking of himself. You, however, are much too noble for all that self-promotion," he said. "Will you be championing your brother with me?"

"Do I need to?"

"I suppose not," said Dorian. "I know he's a good man, despite, well, despite. But I spent a long time in Tevinter lying. Being lied to. 'It's a phase, Dorian.' 'You'll be so happy when you marry this lovely young woman, Dorian.' 'Don't you want to give us grandchildren?'" The high-pitched, casual tone gave way to something darker. "All lies, each one. And in Skyhold I'd finally started to feel, well, not ordinary - a man as talented as I could never merely ordinary - but normal. Some men responded to me. Others didn't. We were behind closed doors for propriety, not for secrecy."

"You think Darren wanted you to hide again?"

"No." The mage's hands gripped the railing hard enough to crack the wood. "No, never that. But I thought…"

He trailed off and bowed his head. "Do you remember the conversation we had in your office all those weeks ago? Right after our lovely leaders laid their plans for world domination on your unsuspecting head?"

Cullen winced at the phrase, thoughts of a world domination that might even now be lurking always close at hand, but he nodded. "You said you'd never been in love," he said.

"Yes. But that wasn't true. There was a man, once. In the Imperium, before I left. I never knew if he cared, not certainly, but I almost asked him to join me when I came to join you. I didn't," said Dorian. He shrugged his shoulders. "Cole told me once he would have said yes. But I wasn't normal then. I didn't even know it was possible to be it."

Cullen stayed silent, waiting for the man to find the rest of his words. Eventually Dorian spoke again. "And it never came again in Skyhold, that feeling, so I thought perhaps it was only a thing one only found once. If I'd missed my chance, I had only myself to blame, and my penance would at least make me Archon. But then Darren was there." His voice lowered so much that Cullen had to strain to hear him. "He wasn't wrong about the timing of my inconvenient feelings. It wasn't in your office. It was in the tavern that night. I'd promised to bring interesting people to the party, but no one could ever have been more interesting than that man."

"A Rutherford trait," said Cullen, and Dorian chuckled.

His face darkened. "But it was a pose. Another lie. At least the women who want to use me for their own advantage in Tevinter have the decency not to trick me into caring for them."

"It wasn't a trick. I saw his face."

"Ah, you mean it didn't end as a trick. All postures will eventually become truths, if held long enough, Commander. But that doesn't negate the falsity of their creation."

"Stop it," said Cullen. "I know you don't believe that. Truth is truth, whether or not it's understood now or later." He ran a hand through his hair and decided it was time to remove the velvet glove. "I think you're doing this to make things easier for you."

"What do you mean?" asked Dorian. His voice sounded only mildly interested, but it was threaded with anger.

"Easier to go back to Tevinter and marry some Imperial noblewoman. Become Archon. Avoid the messy work of being in love with another person, one with flaws. We're all flawed, Dorian. Yes, even you," Cullen added at the mage's sharp look. "If Darren is a liar and a scoundrel, it won't be so difficult to leave him behind. You'll abandon an unworthy man, not turn your back on a heartsick lover."

Dorian sighed and rubbed his temple. "It's been hard enough to get them to accept me without overt perversions. A Fereldan lover even of the standard gender would be a difficulty. This might be impossible."

"If anyone can do impossible, it's Dorian Pavus. I should know. He's told me that himself dozens of times," said Cullen. He put a hand on Dorian's shoulder. "My brother loves you. I've seen that look on all of my siblings' faces, and my own. I know that makes things more difficult for you. Love does. But it's worth all the political power in the world to hold it."

"Is that what you've been doing in the Seeker's cabin since we shoved off?" asked Dorian with a weak smile. "Giving her that same speech?"

Cullen grinned but said nothing.

The boat rocked beneath them for a time, the creaking beams singing their usual song. Eventually Dorian shrugged. "I'll consider your words," he said. He looked at Cullen steadily. "There was one thing your brother was wrong about, though I must take the blame for his assumption. There was never a time where I felt anything other than friendship for you, Commander. You're an attractive man, to be sure, but I don't spend my time on the fish in the next pond when there are so many delightful catches to be had right in front of me."

"Thank you. I think," said Cullen. "But what do you mean you're to blame for it?"

The mage flushed slightly. "When he's jealous, he's very… attentive. In some things. And you were a reliable source of that jealousy. I may have allowed an incorrect impression to form."

Cullen rolled his eyes. "Wonderful."

"It was very much worth it, if that helps," said Dorian, still flushing but grinning wickedly. His smile fell. "I think it may have also been a way of scaring him off. Keeping him distant. Guarding my own feelings."

He laughed suddenly, a harsh sound in the quiet evening. "I did a poor job of it. Of it all, I think. But I would be inconsolable if my incautious behavior cost me a friendship," he said. "I have so few friends. The loss of even one would devastate me."

"Save your devastation for another time," said Cullen. "I don't have so many friends to spare myself. And you make my brother happy." He frowned. "Or you did. I'm not sure of the rules there, being friends with someone who rejects a sibling. I'll ask Varric when we get back to Skyhold."

He was still thinking when Dorian walked away, shaking his head.

There was only one conversation left to have, and Cullen was hardly surprised when his brother ambushed him coming out of the cabin a half a day away from port. He sighed and led him up to the deck, where they settled against the same railing as he and Dorian had before. "I used to like sea voyages," he muttered.

"We need to talk about what to do when we get to Skyhold," said Darren without preamble.

Cullen leaned against the rail. "Okay," he said. "If Solas isn't there, we'll immediately send word to Ferelden to help us search. If he is there, but they haven't gone through with it yet, we'll probe for more information before continuing. If they've already -"

"You talked to Dorian," interrupted Darren. "What did you say to him."

And there was the second volley. "This is nothing to do with me, Darren."

"You're my brother. You're his friend. Seems like you're an interested party to me."

The frustration in his voice nearly broke Cullen's resolve. "I am. Interested in staying out of it. You need to talk to him. Not me," he said.

Darren pounded his fist on the rail. "I tried. You heard me try. I told him everything I have to say. It wasn't enough. You were my last hope," he said. He scowled. "He'll listen to you at least."

"He's not in love with me," said Cullen, rubbing his forehead. "He's in love with you. But you took him by surprise. You hurt him. He's not exactly experienced in this. Give it time."

"Easy for you to say. You don't need any time to make your lady love you. And it's not like this happens to me every day, either," said Darren. He turned away and looked across the waves. "I don't know what to do. I don't have the right words to convince him I'm worth listening to, much less worth staying with. But you wouldn't know anything about that. Your romantic troubles have always come from the outside, from worrying about what Cassandra might do for the greater good. You've never had to worry that she wouldn't have you on your own merits."

Cullen winced. "No. That's not true. When we first… When I first learned about her feelings, I fumbled it. Very badly. It took time to re-earn her trust. Worthwhile, rewarding time, but still time."

"So what did you do?" asked Darren. He still stared over the water, but his voice was desperately curious.

"I wrote her a love story. Ours," said Cullen. He felt heat on his cheeks, but he tried to ignore it. "I gave it to her and prayed she would understand it. Fortunately she did."

Darren turned back to him with narrowed eyes. "Of course you did. Of course you wrote a fucking love story for one of the most desirable, powerful, highly born women in the world and made her fall at your feet. Why would that be surprising?" he said. "Maker, if you weren't my brother I would really hate you. Sometimes it's still a near thing."

Cullen's mouth dropped. "What?"

"Even when we were kids you were always the golden child. Never in trouble, never shirking work, always obedient. You left for the Templars and our parents still couldn't stop talking about you. 'Cullen never did this or that,'" said Darren in exactly the same high-pitched voice Dorian had used for his own recitations of the past. Cullen smiled against his will, which turned out to be exactly the wrong move. Darren scowled. "Easy for you to laugh at it."

You reminded me of Dorian seemed like an even worse response than the laughing, so Cullen said nothing.

Eventually Darren shook his head. "It would be one thing if it was just kid stuff. But now? You might be the most celebrated man in the world. Commander of the Inquisition. Victor of several wars. Paragon of the Templars. First advisor to a holy woman. Respected by your allies and enemies. I lived at Skyhold for weeks and barely heard a cross word about you, even with people who didn't know we were related. And even your romantic rivals give way to you," he said bitterly. "I happen to know that Dmitri Van Markham is a ruthless leader, a man who's done more than his fair share of intimidation and elimination of his enemies, and he gave up a large portion of his ambitions, let a woman he loved walk away from him, because you were just so damn charming and heroic."

"He did that for Cassandra," Cullen protested, but Darren wasn't listening.

"And that's just the political stuff. Once people at Skyhold did find out we were related, all I got was, 'Can you introduce me?' The barmaids wanted me to get you into the tavern, let them flirt a little. They were willing to risk the wrath of Cassandra for it, which is no small risk. And at the ball you were easily the most admired man in the room," he said. "People couldn't stop looking at you."

Dorian again, of course. "Dorian seemed more interested in flirting with you, as I recall."

"I didn't say anything about Dorian," said Darren stubbornly, and Cullen suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm just saying that it's not exactly easy being the little brother of the only perfect man that's ever existed."

"I'm not perfect. Not in the least. Cassandra knows that better than anyone," said Cullen. "I work every day to deserve her."

"Well then, Maker be praised you found the one person in Thedas not blinded by your virtues," said Darren. "You know, I became a spy because of you. Figured if I was going to be living in someone's shadow, invisibly, I should at least do good with it."

Okay, that was enough. He turned and grabbed Darren by the shoulders. "You're Darren Rutherford. You joined the Fereldan army too young, and you still survived. You were with our family during the Blight. You protected them. Not me. When the time counted, you were the son they needed. When our parents told you to save Mia and Alice, you did. Against overwhelming odds," he said. When Darren gave him a puzzled look, he added, "I asked some of your comrades. They told me. You've done things no man should have to do, and you're still here. And now you're trusted by the rulers of Ferelden themselves. You were given a dangerous, solo mission that you performed so well that none of us ever even suspected your true purpose. Not even your lover. More importantly, you knew when to stop lying and tell the truth, which is a rare skill.

"You're attractive and charismatic, and more than one person asked me why the family humor seemed to skip over me and into you. You're more comfortable in your own skin than anyone I know, and you could charm your way out of a room of Qunari without blinking. There is nothing about you that doesn't seem perfect."

Darren started to protest, but Cullen shook him. "It's easy to look perfect from far away. But no one is. I'm certainly not. I judge too harshly. I doubt too much. I place too much trust in my superiors. People have died from my mistakes. They probably still will, and I have nightmares about those failures. Any respect I have came at a heavy price. Any admiration I gain is from reputation, not from personality. Cassandra is the only woman who's ever really loved me, and that's okay because she's the only one I'll ever need, but it's hardly a recommendation of my romantic skills.

"More importantly, you're only saying this because you're worried and heartsore, and I understand that. I do. But pretending I'm somehow the cause of your woes is only a way to get around the fact that you know you need to go to him, again, and risk another humiliation. And another, and another, until all hope is lost, or everything is won," said Cullen. "I'll shield you from anything in my power, but I can't fight this for you. Dorian seemed willing to listen. Talk to him again."

"Another rousing speech to the troops from Commander Rutherford," said Darren, but there was a slight smile on his face. "I'm sorry. I know what happened with you at Kinloch. And Kirkwall. It know it wasn't always easy for you." He paused. "And I'm sorry I deceived you."

"You were doing your job. You're my brother. You're forgiven," said Cullen, and that was that. "But you realize you never actually apologized to Dorian in your speech."

Darren frowned. "Yes I did." An expression of concentration crossed his face, then a dawning horror. "Oh Maker, I didn't."

"No," said Cullen. "And he's been trying not to watch us for at least ten minutes, so perhaps this would be a good time to try it." Dorian lurked at midship with a studied casualness that wouldn't have fooled a child, the tension in his shoulders alone enough to make Cullen's ache in sympathy.

His brother's expression turned to mild panic. "What, now?"

"We're going to hit landfall soon. We'll be riding hard, then encountering who knows what," said Cullen. He finally let Darren go with a final shake. "Don't waste the time. Find whatever his love story is, give it to him and make him fall at your feet."

Darren crooked a grin. "I'm not sure it's decent to give him that here on the deck."

Cullen glared, and Darren chuckled as he walked away. Cullen watched for a time, just long enough to see the moment when the mage's hands lifted hesitantly to Darren's face and his brother breathe out a shaky laugh. The sun was still just cresting the horizon, and it shone around and between them, melting them into a single silhouette as their lips met in a quiet rush.

Cullen slipped back, smiling, and headed below decks to his lady. He might not have anything to apologize for, at least not this time, but he was in the mood to pretend he did.

They landed a few hours later, internal tension gone but the external pressure rising around them. As the mounts were readied, Cassandra pulled him aside. On solid ground she was back to her usual indomitable self, and he couldn't resist stroking her palm through her glove while she spoke.

"I have been thinking, and we must be prepared for the worst," she said. He frowned, but she pressed on. "I know you don't wish to think of it, and neither do I, but it does no good to plan a campaign around hopes."

"You're right," he said, sighing. "What are you thinking?"

"If Ellana does hold Mythal, and not safely, I will attempt to take this talisman you spoke of. Remove it from her and break the connection."

"No," he said. "It's too dangerous. She'll just take you over and that seems to hurt non-mages. It almost killed me to hold it, and that was with Solas as an ally. And Mythal. If they're both against you, you'll never survive."

Cassandra shook her head. "Seekers cannot be possessed. I will be safe from whatever incursion affected you," she said, squeezing his hand. "Moreover, no one else will be. And Mythal and Solas will be focused on convincing you, or guarding from you if that's how things progress. They believe me to be committed to the survival of the Inquisition at any price."

The pain in her eyes scored his heart, and he folded her in his arms. "It won't come to that. The Inquisition will survive." Something built by her, to do good. Cassandra, not Pentaghast.

"It's only worthy of survival if it does no harm," she said. "We cannot protect a thing simply because it's mine."

"But I'm yours. Does that mean we can't protect me?" he asked lightly.

She huffed a breath and kissed him, and he relaxed into its feelings. Home. Safety. Things would be okay as long as they were together.

Dmitri's man signaled the readiness of their mounts, and they broke apart to ready themselves in turn. Darren and Dorian were already swinging up onto their horses, focused and ready, and when Cullen led them to the mountain pass that would take them to the hold, they followed.

Despite his hopes, Cullen had half-expected to find Skyhold in ruins when they arrived, like Adamant after the siege. It was somehow more terrifying to see the absolute normality of the place. The guards at the gates were obviously surprised to see them, but they saluted and welcomed them exactly like always. Cullen glanced at Cassandra as they rode to the stables. He hadn't prepared himself to act as though there wasn't an emergency happening all around them.

Fortunately she had. She slid off her mount and asked very naturally where the Inquisitor was. The Great Hall, the horsemaster said, and that was so normal Cullen could hardly stand it.

Darren and Dorian were also chatting and flirting and teasing away, exactly as if no time had passed, and Cullen might have started to wonder if it had all been a dream, or if they were all under a demonic influence now, if he hadn't seen the way Darren's hand continually rechecked the tie of his sword.

They took the steps up to the Hall proper as quickly as they dared, and when they threw open the doors the Hall was full of people. Varric and Bull shouted a slightly confused greeting, though they seemed pleased to see them, but Cullen's focus was on the throne.

Ellana sat regally, rendering a judgment, and Josephine and Leliana flanked her. Solas leaned against a wall to the side, watching intently. When the room stirred to allow the four travelers passage, the elf turned to look, and the flicker of fear in his eyes and the new tension on his shoulders told Cullen that he, at least, wasn't in the cloud of unreality that had seemed to settle around the rest of the world.

Cullen's gaze moved back to the Inquisitor. She looked the same as he remembered, thin and pale, with a green glow on her hand that rose and fell with each breath.

Ellana raised her eyes to them curiously before a smile lit her face. "Cassandra! Cullen! Dorian! I'm so glad you're back," she said. She announced her judgment for the woman in front of her - a few days of labor fortifying the fortress's walls - then leaned forward with another grin after she was led away. "Skyhold hasn't been the same without you."

Cullen felt his mouth moving in response, in thanks, but his eyes only saw one thing - the dull gleam of golden scales that swung gently from her neck.