It was a double-edged sword. Both Cullen and Dorian were keenly aware of the fact that when it came to Belathen's natural desire for truth and wisdom, the situation was extraordinarily complex. On one hand, her intelligence was a saving grace; it made her adaptable, and was the reason that even as a Dalish she was able to captivate Empress Celene's court so thoroughly. On the other finger however it was her keen curiosity and quest for knowledge that so often meant she made the striking decisions that baffled her companions, and often got her into trouble. Like the time she climbed to the top of the great hall, just to see what the Frostbacks looked like from the precarious position (apparently, it was breathtaking).

Or now.

Cullen had just returned, making a hasty dash to Skyhold the minute a bird brought word that both Bel and Dorian were somehow returned there and... relatively alright. The wording had concerned him greatly, as had the fact that the Inquisitor didn't write any words herself. She always at least wrote a word when she knew the page was destined to him- and this one had his name on it. So he was tentative as he went directly to her room in spite of the late hour, waving to a perplexed guard at the door before pushing his way in.

The fire was going. Belathen being so cool-blooded that was no surprise. She was curled on the rug in front of the source of heat, a blanket around her shoulders and what seemed like an old book on the floor beside her. Cullen picked it up and instantly recognized it from the downstairs library, even if the title itself looked like gibberish to him. As he recalled, originally it had been utterly incomprehensible to her at the time as well. So how was it up here? Why?

"Bella." Cullen sat down beside her, very careful to wake her gently.

The little elven woman turned over slightly. Whatever she said next made no sense at all, but one eye started to peek and then proceeded to fly open as recognition dawned. "Cullen!" In an instant her arms were around his shoulders, as if she was desperate to be closer to him. Cullen allowed that, pulling her up and onto his lap.

"I see you found some... light reading," Cullen pointed out, gesturing to the book.

Belathen actually reddened. "Turns out what we found was something of a... personal library. That book is basically the elvhen equivalent of 'Swords and Shields'."

Cullen had to laugh. "So the title we couldn't read?"

"Is not suitable to be read aloud!"

"You know I'm not upset, but..." How to best ask? "How are you reading that?"

Belathen shuddered a bit. "I... well, Cullen, you see..."

"I won't be mad."

With that, the Inquisitor met her commander's eyes. "Remember when we were trying to figure out what was meant by Samson being picked as the vessel? I found the answer. Corypheus learned that the knowledge of all Mythal's servants was available... for someone willing to pay a price to gain that knowledge."

Cullen watched as she tried to look away, but raised a hand to stop her movement. He tipped her chin to look into his eyes as he noted, "If anyone is capable of holding that wisdom it should be you."

Belathen let out a sigh, the breath she had hardly even known she was holding in. Tears came to her eyes, her head burying into his chest. "Ma'enasalin, I need your strength. Desperately. I... I don't think..." Then, slower, quieter, she admitted, "I believe I made a mistake."

"And why is that?"

"This Well, this knowledge- it burns, ma'lath." She paused, trying to explain. "I feel a tug, like something has latched onto me. One moment I'm reading this," she explained, gesturing to the book, "and the next nothing makes sense. Apparently I spent most of one day unable to remember how to speak the trade tongue, Cullen. A DAY!"

"Bella." He kept his voice even, soothing. "Calm down. It may just take time. I'll be here. Dorian will be here. You aren't going through this alone."

Instead of easing, that just got the slight elf in his arms to shudder again. "I'm not sure. Dorian was more than a little upset when I saw him last." Frowning, she added, "Whatever he said in Tevene sounded less than flattering."

Cullen hugged her tighter. "We will make that right, too."

It took an hour before Bel fell into a restful sleep. Cullen took a moment to feed the flames in the fireplace before going to find the mage, concerned about what thoughts might be going through this particular partner's head.

As it was, Cullen found Dorian in his usual alcove in the library, trying and failing miserably at pretending to read. He looked up when Cullen approached, shaking his head. "Did you see her yet?"

"I have."

"I... have some concerns."

"She mentioned." Cullen tried to balance his emotions, one part of his mind wanting to hear Dorian out while the other felt desperate to defend Lavellan. "You hurt her, Dorian. I'm trying to understand why."

When Dorian winced in response, Cullen decided to truly listen to the answer.

"The guardian and Morrigan both claimed the Well has a terrible price. I'm not too keen on her taking that kind of chance. I really didn't imagine you would either, come to think of it."

Cullen had to admit that the explanation made sense. And yet...

"And I'M the overprotective one?" The former Templar just shook his head, the experience feeling mad. "Let me ask. When did you know what she was going to do?"

The mage sighed. "As soon as the guardian explained what the Well contained, I knew we'd lost her," he admitted.

"Was anything going to change her mind?"

"If... maybe I could have... if you had..." Then, finally, "No. Nothing was going to make a difference."

"Then why be mad at her for being herself?"

If Belathen wasn't the kind to seek knowledge, she wouldn't have been a close enough friend to become a lover. If she didn't take chances, she would never have been the Inquisitor- or at the Conclave in the first place. It had been a very specific set of circumstances that brought the three of them together.

"I've really stuck my foot in it this time, haven't I?" Dorian realized.

"Maybe a bit."

"I should apologize."

"I find begging works wonders."

Dorian hit Cullen playfully on the shoulder. "You're terrible, amatus."

Cullen smiled as he took the hit, grabbing Dorian's hand before he could pull it fully away. "And that's why you love me."

"I suppose that's true."