There was a resounding ache that started at the back of his skull and pulsed throughout the rest of his body, throbbing, spreading like ripples in a pool of water. Sleep had come with some difficulty the previous night, and what little sleep he'd gotten was restless and short lived. The lack of adequate rest left his muscles feeling sore, his body drained, and his temper especially short fused.
Life would not wait for him and neither would his duties. So Cullen had abandoned all attempts at sleep and had returned to work before even the sun dared show its face. His very bones resisted full cooperation, and still he had managed to get a lot done already. Somedays the lyrium withdraw was unbearable, leaving him unable to get out of bed. The memories would consume him and he would be back in that tower, back in the Void. He could hear the screams all over again, could see the death.
His every muscle felt tight. His bones felt like they needed to be popped, but even after every knuckle had been cracked the discomfort remained. This was not his worst day, he could persevere. There were men and women looking to him for direction, there were things that still needed to be done. He could bear his pain in silence, ignore it, allow it to go unnoticed like he had many times before. He just pitied the soldiers that chose this day to not perform their duties to the standard he typically demanded from them. Today was not the day to upset him, unfortunately it also meant that today would be the day with the most mistakes made.
Andraste give me patience. He had a league long list of things that needed to be done before the day's end, and not enough time to get them all done. Wiping the pinch from his furrowed eyebrows, Cullen sucked in a deep breath and tried to refocus on the task at hand. The only way he was going to get all of this done was by properly delegating each item on the list.
There was a constant flow of soldiers rotating from his side, taking his orders and hurrying to complete them. Before long Cullen was falling back into step with his duties, relearning the rhythm of things; since withdraw always seemed to abduct his ability to properly multitask.
Signing the bottom of a report, he handed it back to the soldier that had given it to him and instructed them to return it to the sender. His attention was pulled from the soldier's replying salute, over their shoulder to where the Tevinter mage was approaching him. There was a smirk toying at the corners of Dorian's lips, barely hidden behind his neatly maintained mustache.
Cullen let out a long sigh, and fought back the amusement that was already starting to spark inside of him. He and the mage had only spoken on a few different occasions, but Cullen had seen that look enough times to know that nothing good would come of the conversation that they were about to have.
Dorian walked with an arrogant saunter, knowing that he was drawing gazes and not caring that some of those gazes were disgusted. He approached Cullen's work station and leaned casually against it. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, and a rolled up piece of parchment paper was held in his hand in nonchalant offering.
"I've a message for you," he stated, his tone ever glibful, the sparkle in his green eyes full of delighted roguishness. Dorian wiggled the parchment between his fingers, goading Cullen to take it. "Straight from our spy master herself."
When Cullen reached for the message he was relieved that Dorian didn't snatch it away like he'd half expected him to. He unrolled the paper and, as he read over the message, asked, "You're delivering messages now, Ser Pavus?" Glancing up past his brow to meet Dorian's impish gaze, Cullen commented, "Your style is a bit flashier than the people usually under Leliana's employ."
"It's a curse," Dorian agreed with a regrettable sigh, "to be a handsome as I. I'd tell you that there is no such thing as too much attention but, alas, it would be a lie."
Cullen shook his head, rolling his eyes at the other man's outrageous behavior. Feeling proud of himself for pulling the desired reaction out of Cullen, Dorian laughed before he explained the truth behind his purpose. "I needed to stretch my legs a bit. Our spy master's squawking crows can get a bit grating after too long. I also hoped to speak to the Inquisitor."
Pulling his attention from Cullen, Dorian gave the lower courtyard a thorough look before glancing back at the Commander. Quirking a curious eyebrow, he wondered, "You haven't, by any chance, seen her about; have you?"
He shook his head in answer. Cullen had been busy working, too involved in getting through the long list of things to be done to even think of anything else. Now that Dorian mentioned Delani, he tried to think of whether or not he'd seen her. Distracted by work or not, busy as he was, if Delani had crossed his path he would have remembered it.
Skyhold was enormous, with countless places to hide, even so there were a few places Cullen knew Delani visited more frequently than others. Thinking of such a place, he suggested, "Have you checked with Solas? She spends a great deal of time speaking with him."
Dorian's immaculately kept eyebrows shot toward his hairline. Tilting his head with intrigue, the mage wondered, "Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Commander?"
Taken aback by Dorian's question, Cullen shook his head and blinked hard. Jealous? What in the Maker's perfect plan did he have to be jealous about? "What?" he coughed, feeling heat start to burn under his cheeks and on the round tips of his ears.
"No," he said too quickly, only further validating Dorian's accusation. He stumbled over his own words as he tried to amend the mess the mage had turned him into. "I was just making an observation—"
The expression on Dorian's tanned features was teasing. His smirk was devilish, his eyes alight with a taunting laugh that didn't quite make it out of him. "Oh, you're blushing," the other man cooed as though Cullen were a small, helpless animal. Smirk growing into an all out grin, Dorian continued to relentlessly tease him. "Someone alert the masses. The commander of the Inquisition has a crush."
Narrowing his eyes dangerously at the other man, Cullen growled in warning. "I will end you, Pavus."
A boisterous laugh sounded from Dorian, discrediting Cullen's threat. Shrugging off Cullen's glare, he gave the Commander's shoulder a friendly pat before rebuking, "I should be so lucky."
Cullen shook his head and sighed again. He rubbed his temple, fighting back the migraine that had unsurprisingly worsened with the mage's arrival. Eyes firmly clasped shut, he sucked in a long deep breath before reopening his eyes and returning to the purpose of Dorian's visitation.
"I have not seen the Inquisitor yet today," he informed him, maintaining an appearance of professionalism that only served to deepen Dorian's smirk. Narrowing his eyes at the other man, Cullen finished, "If that changes I will be sure to let her know that you wish to speak with her."
Grinning, Dorian replied, "Would you please?" To the sharp look that his tone earned him, Dorian pushed himself off of Cullen's work station and gave him a small smile. With a flippant wave of his hand, he laughed, "Do try not to overwork yourself, Commander." and left Cullen to tend to the rest of his duties.
Resting his fists on the table before him, Cullen's knuckles gave his weight purchase as he tried to calm the pain pulsating through his head. Each throb was like a roll of thunder, and he grit his teeth as all he could do was wait for it to pass. Before he knew it, there was another soldier at his side, with another report in need of a signature, and another order needed to be handed out.
He lifted himself back up and accepted the report. Just like that, Cullen stepped back into flow of things and returned to work. Before he knew it, an hour had already passed, and he had checked several items off of the day's itinerary.
To one of the soldiers standing at his side, he instructed, "Send men to scout the area. We need to know what's out there."
They replied with a salute and a militant, "Yes sir!" before turning to do as they were told.
It took exactly half a second for the empty space to become occupied once again. "Commander, soldiers have been assigned temporary quarters."
"Very good," Cullen replied, nodding in acceptance of the verbal report. He quickly moved on to the next order of business, hoping to get through at least half of his list before hunger demanded that he take a break. "I'll need an update on the armory as well."
He felt the soldier still standing at his side, lingering as though he'd been given expressed permission to dally. Giving the man a hard look, Cullen clarified, "Now!"
The soldier scampered off like a kicked cat, and Cullen watched him leave only to have his attention pulled to Delani. The woman was steadily approaching, a smile on her lips as turned her head and watched the berated soldier run to go fulfill his orders.
His heart swelled at the sight of her, nerves prickling at his gut. She was dressed casually, her clothes of Dalish make. The fabric hugged her slight frame and accentuated her feminine colors were earthy, shades of green and brown that brought out not only the lovely color of her skin, but the brilliant shine of her sea green eyes, and the auburn of her hair. She looked ethereal, and he was breathless.
Delani returned her attention to him, her smile bigger now as she'd closed the distance remaining between them. Holding her hands behind her back she looked over the table in front of him, peeking at the million things that still needed to be done.
Feeling himself start to blush, Cullen cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck before also looking down at the table. Remembering that she was now his superior, he took the opportunity to debrief her on how he was progressing. "We set up as best we could at Haven. But could never prepare for an arch demon, or whatever it was. With some warning we might have—"
A melodic laugh sounded from Delani, ripping his attention back to her. She met his gaze, an eyebrow quirked in scolding, and wondered, "Do you ever sleep?"
He couldn't bring himself to be bothered by her comment when it was accompanied by that smile. Refusing to validate her question with an answer, he continued, "If Corypheus strikes again we might not be able to withdraw. And I wouldn't want to."
Cullen thought about what happened at Haven, how unprepared they had been. He hadn't expected an attack, at least not one of that scale. People payed for that mistake with their lives, and it was not a mistake that he would be making a second time. Tightening his fists with determination, he said, "We must be ready. Work on Skyhold is underway. Guard rotations established, we should have everything on course within the week. We will not run from here, Inquisitor."
"Delani," she corrected, a goading laugh in her green eyes. "Say it with me, Commander; Del-an-ee."
Refusing to submit so easily, Cullen met her part way, "Lady Lavellan."
After sighing in disappointment, she hummed, accepting the update as satisfactory. Looking around at the bustling lower courtyard, Delani absently wondered, "How many were lost?"
"Most of our people made it to Skyhold." he assured her, noticing the somberness that was darkening her beautiful eyes. She was taking every lost life personally, as though their deaths were her fault alone. Cullen couldn't allow her to think like that. They'd made it out of Haven, so many people still had their lives, and that was largely in thanks to her.
Holding her gaze, he observed, "It could have been worse. Moral was low, but has improved greatly since you took the role of Inquisitor."
A scoff sounded from her at that. Delani shook her head, her eyes wide with wariness. He could tell with a look what she was thinking. It was another title she didn't feel she deserved, and she couldn't have been more wrong.
"Inquisitor Lavellan?" she wiped a hand down her face before rubbing her fingers into her eyes. "It sounds strange, don't you think?"
He offered her an encouraging smile before replying, "Not at all."
Delani scoffed again, her eyebrow arched with curiosity, "Is that the official response?"
His smile grew when he shrugged. "I suppose it is."
Straightening his stance, Cullen perched his hands on the pommel of his sword as he regarded her. He could understand her uncertainty, and could appreciate that it would take time for her to fully accept her new role, but he also knew that there truly was none more deserving.
Making sure the sincerity he felt could be heard in his voice, he said, "But it's the truth. We needed a leader and you have proven yourself."
"Thank you, Cullen," she replied, a lack of conviction in her tone, even if she did appear to be grateful for his words. Shuffling her feet, Delani suddenly appeared a touch nervous. Her eyes met his quickly before breaking again, and he felt his curiosity grow at the sight of her strange behavior.
Wringing her hands, Delani cautiously started, "Our escape from Haven," she glanced off to the side, as though she were having a hard time holding his gaze. Rolling her shoulders she straightened her spine and forced her eyes to meet his before continuing. "It was close. I'm relieved that you—that so many made it out."
This uncertainty, her nervousness, it was completely out of her character as he knew it. Delani was comprised mostly of snark and secondly by sass. She did not wilt from an opportunity to make a joke, and yet now she was. Her change intrigued him, and endeared him as well.
Cullen opened his mouth, meaning to say something of worth, but instead muttered a lame, "As am I."
She nodded once, acknowledging his lackluster rebuttal with a sigh. Delani bit into her lower lip, looking as if she wanted to say more but, in the end, decided against it. When she nodded again it was in farewell, excusing herself from the conversation and allowing him to get back to work.
Before she could turn away from him, Cullen reached out to her. His fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist and then trailed down to caress her thin fingers. He cursed at himself for having decided to wear gloves. The damn leather was keeping his skin from hers, preventing him from learning if she was as soft as he imagined her to be. Everything about her was so dainty, and still she was this magnificent woman that he'd always thought could only be found in fairy tales and legends.
He didn't release her hand when he next spoke, couldn't bring himself to break the contact, of having at the very least the pleasure of touching her. "You stayed behind." He whispered, still able to feel the dread he'd endured that night. Shutting his eyes, he tightened his hold on her hand, reminding himself that she was alive and well. "You could have…"
Opening his eyes, Cullen met Delani's green gaze and wondered how a color so brilliant could even exist. Setting his jaw with determination, Cullen swore to her, "I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word."
Delani's gaze fell from his and moved to his hand holding hers. A smile unearthed over her lips, brightening her features. She squeezed his hand before looking back up to him. There was devilment in her eyes and he had to bite back a groan —and fight off a grin— at the sight of it.
"I sure do hope so, vhenan'ara," she retorted, a snicker in her voice. "Because this cat is running out of lives."
Sighing in response to the ruined moment, Cullen allowed her hand to fall from his grasp and took a step back. Even as he fought the smile from his lips, he couldn't help it when a chuckle snuck into his voice. "Then I suppose we will have to make the most of the few you have left."
She opened her mouth to reply, but a soldier approached and handed him another report, effectively cutting her off. Cullen accepted the report and returned his attention to her, hoping that she would finish the thought she'd been unable to start. To his disappointment she smiled again, another goodbye.
"A mountain of reports is as likely to kill me as any thousand year old Tevinter magister." She took a step back, as though the paperwork in his hand was a deadly snake ready to strike. Looking over her shoulder for a way out, she grumbled, "I'm sure there's adventure to be had somewhere around here."
When Delani looked back at Cullen it was with a departing wave. "I'll leave you to it, Commander." Turning on her heel, she said with a laugh, "Do try not to have too much fun."
As he watched her swaying hips move further and further away from him, Cullen suddenly remembered that Dorian had been asking after her. Shrugging he turned around and returned to his duties. He was fairly certain that the two would find each other eventually.
It had been unrealistic to think that she could avoid the paperwork forever. Delani had been in the middle of hearing one of Bull's stories when a runner had sheepishly informed her that she was needed in the war room 'without delay'. Being Inquisitor meant a lot of things to a lot of people, but it should have meant "don't bother me with paperwork" above all else. Unfortunately that wasn't the case, and was the reason Delani was dragging her feet toward the war room.
There was a constant din in Skyhold's main hall as reconstruction was done to its structure. For the most part, the roofing had already been replaced, but the wood had to be checked for mites, rot, or any kind of weakness, which then had to be replaced. There was a lot of work that needed to be done before the place looked presentable. But, as it was, it was off to a good start.
Delani nodded in acknowledgment of all the greetings she received as she passed. She could feels eyes follow her as she walked through the hall, people constantly gauging her worth, questioning her merit, observing her closely in search of fault and flaws. She straightened her back as she headed to the war room, bearing the weight of all of their gazes. She'd never anticipated being made into the Inquisitor, but she would do her best with the title and it would have to be enough for the whole lot of them.
Josephine's office was empty when she walked through it. The beautiful Antivan woman was already waiting for her in the war room, a pile of reports nestled on her clipboard, a candle down at half-mast, burned shorter with the hours of work that had already been done.
Delani shook her head as she pushed past the door exiting Josie's office. Her advisors didn't know how not to work, and Cullen was the guiltiest of them all. A smile lifted her features at the thought of the Commander. She looked down at her hand, the hand he had held while swearing to protect her. That was what he'd meant, she was sure of it. What she wasn't sure of was whether he'd meant it as the Commander to the Inquisitor, or as a man to a woman he felt romantically attracted to and protective over.
Her heart flipped in her chest, giddy with the prospect. What were the odds that that was the way he felt? Her smile fell as she honestly considered it. If she was honest with herself, the odds weren't good. Would a human ever see her as anything more than an elf? Yes, he thought that she was the Herald of Andraste, but the title didn't clip her ears or make her less elven. He thought her worthy of being Inquisitor, but did he think her worthy of anything else? Of him?
And even if he did, Cullen was so professional. He refused to address her by her first name. Even if him having feelings for her was possible, him acting on them wasn't.
Why would she even assume that he had feelings for her anyway? Because of the way he had held her hand? She hadn't imagined the gentleness of his touch, but she had imagined the intent behind it. The man probably took her flirtations as teasing, and had no intention of allowing them to become anything more than that. She needed to return her focus to her new duties. Dwelling on her unrequited feelings couldn't come before her responsibilities as Inquisitor.
Setting her jaw she opened the door to the war room and greeted her advisors professionally. Her gaze lingered only a moment too long on Cullen before she managed to move on to the women standing at his sides. Approaching the war table, she winced inwardly at the sight of all the markers that needed to be addressed.
Delani sighed through her nose, steeling her resolve. Voice full of forced enthusiasm, she wondered, "What do we have?" and rubbed her hands together as though the friction would suddenly make all of this more appealing.
"We need resources, we can set up a memorial in Haven, there are people that we need to find, and research that needs to be done." Leliana replied, her eyes glittering under the shadow of her hood. "Take your pick."
Staring down at the dozens upon dozens of markers on both the Ferelden map, and the map of Orlais, Delani let out a long and defeated sigh. Dragging her nails through her hair, she ruffled the strands and blew her bangs out of her face. "Alright," she couldn't even force her enthusiasm anymore. "Then let's get started."
With her reluctant consent to dive into the unending chasm of mission reports, requisitions, and messages from outreaching nobles, her three advisors didn't hold back. They worked their way through every operation on the table, every detail that demanded her attention, and every assignment that needed her approval. She'd had a taste of this when she'd only been the Herald of Andraste. Now that she was the Inquisitor a mere 'taste' was a long forgotten memory of better times.
Several hours later they weren't even a quarter of the way done with everything that needed to be attended to. After much insistence on Delani's part, a bottle of wine was opened and snacks were carted in from the kitchen. The only way that she was going to get through all of this nonsense was if she was good and drunk. Unfortunately, she also knew that belligerent drunkenness wasn't an option, so instead she settled on toeing the line of tipsy and not being inebriated enough.
When a messenger entered the room, yet another report in hand, Delani had to fight off a groan. This was a part of her job now, whether she liked it or not. The faster she got all of this nonsense taken care of, the faster she was able to get back onto the field and out of this boring circular room where hopes and dreams went to die.
Leliana accepted the report and dismissed the messenger. She opened the letter, and her expression turned into unreadable stone. There was a tick in her jaw and, when she looked up to meet the question in Delani's eyes, she shifted her weight uncomfortably.
Feeling a sudden weight press down on the room, when Delani asked, "What's wrong?" Leliana handed the message over to her. She reached across the table and pulled the message from the spy master's grasp. Her heart sank as she read what was scribed on the paper.
"Clan Lavellan is being attacked by bandits," Leliana explained to the others as Delani read and reread the message. "They're requesting our assistance."
Crumpling the paper, Delani heatedly inserted, "And they will have it." Brows furrowed with determination, Delani breathed through her nose as she tried to calm her racing heart. Her clan was in danger, her people were being threatened by bandits, and she wasn't there to protect them.
The threat had to be great for them to reach out to the Inquisition, to ask a predominantly human organization for assistance; even if she was seated at its head. Dalish clans clashed with bandits all of the time, it was just another part of their lives. The hunters stood against such threats on a daily basis. For her clan to ask for help meant that it wasn't a threat that they could handle on their own, it was greater than any threat that they'd faced before. And she wasn't there.
Her stomach sank at the thought of all the lives that would be lost if she failed to act, if she made a single misstep. Clan Lavellan was more than a hundred strong. There were children, infants, families just being formed. All of their lives, every last one of them, were now being faced with death and she was halfway across the map.
Delani's nails were digging into her palm, she was clenching her fist so tight that blood was staining the balled up parchment. What was the point of her even becoming the Inquisitor if she couldn't protect her own flesh and blood? She'd taken the title for the best interest of her people and her kind, yet the threat remained looming over their heads and she was as far away from them as she could be.
"I'm going," she said, her mind made. She had become Inquisitor for the sake of bettering the lives of her clan and all elven kind alike, but she wouldn't stay if it meant that her family was destroyed by her negligence. "I'll deal with this issue myself."
Her advisors shared wary glances, a silent communication passing between the three humans as they fully took in her meaning. She just accepted the role of Inquisitor. She hadn't even fully worn the weight of the title yet. Delani leaving so soon would appear more akin to fleeing.
"You can't—" Leliana started, only to be cut off by Delani's dangerously narrowed glare.
"Watch me," she tossed the crumpled message onto the war table and turned sharply on her heel
Leliana's voice followed after her, finishing the statement Delani had been so quick to interrupt. "You can't go after them yourself, but we do have the resources to ensure the continued safety of your clan." When Delani turned around, her eyebrow arched in question, the spy master reminded her, "You're the Inquisitor now. You have people at your disposal."
From Cullen's other side, Josephine added, "While we can't concede to you running off to help your people, all of us would be more than happy to help you in this matter."
Delani narrowed her eyes at the Antivan. She was not 'running off' she was doing what right, what had always been her responsibility. Resources at her disposal or no, her first instinct was always to help her people herself. She would accept their assistance, but she couldn't accept staying behind.
"Fine," she curtly replied, a bit more venom in her tone than she intended. "Give me some men, and I'll personally put our resources to use."
Again Leliana spoke up, saying exactly what Delani didn't want to hear. "You have other, more pressing, matters to attend to and—"
"More pressing to whom?" Delani snapped, completely taken aback that she would even dare to say such a thing. Taking a threatening step toward the hooded woman, Delani reminded her —incase she'd forgotten— "These are my people!"
"We understand, Inquisitor," Cullen's voice was soothing when he spoke out, hoping to calm the tension filling the room. His golden eyes met and held hers, his expression lulling, placating, assuring her that they didn't take this matter as lightly as Leliana was making it seem like they did. "And we won't allow any harm to befall your people."
Reaching across the table, he picked up the crumpled piece of paper and carefully smoothed it back out. With his gentle golden eyes back on Delani, he insisted, "Allow me to take care of this, Inquisitor. I will send men, our best, and we will make sure that your clan is safe."
Delani bit her lip, undecided. Her nerves were still grated from how Leliana had so flippantly disregarded her clan's importance, how easily she'd cast them aside for 'more pressing matters'. She could tell by the look in Cullen's amber eyes that he wouldn't take this task lightly, that he would honestly do whatever had to be done to make sure that her people were safe. His handsome expression was set, certain, a plan already being laid out should she accept his request. If there was anyone that she could trust with this it was Cullen.
She glared at Leliana for a moment, making sure that the human knew that she had crossed a line and that Delani would not soon forget. Moving her attention to Cullen, she nodded curtly. "I'm trusting you with this, Cullen."
He nodded once, determination in the motion. "I will not fail you, Inquisitor."
Though she appreciated his assurance, she needed to be sure he knew just how much she needed him to succeed, how much this task meant to her, how important it was that he truly not fail her. "These people are my family, Commander. There are children in my clan, infants, innocents. Don't let them be killed."
His jaw ticked as he fully realized the responsibility, though the confidence didn't leave his eyes. Cullen knew that he could do this, and all he wanted in turn was for her to trust him. "My men will protect them, you have my word."
"That'll have to be enough," she said to herself, unable to repress the feeling of dread that was weighing down on her stomach. When she looked back up to meet the gazes of her war council, Delani sighed through her nose and rolled her shoulders. They'd been locked in the circular room for hours already, they'd gotten done as much as they could in one sitting, and Delani didn't feel like being cooped up for one second longer.
"I think we're done for today." Without waiting for them to either agree or disagree, she turned for the door and dismissed herself. "If you need me I'll be at the stables."
Delani left the war room in a hurry, not waiting for any of her advisors to stop her escape. The day had started off well enough. She would have never guessed that it would have turned out this way. It felt wrong sending someone else to help her clan, when she was perfectly capable of doing so herself. But she trusted Cullen. He would be true to his word, he would make sure her people were safe.
Whatever his feelings were for her, whether they were romantic or not, he would do his job. That much she knew, and it was why she'd let him take this responsibility from her; even if it pained her to do so.
Leaving the main hall, Delani shoved the thoughts from her mind with a sigh. There was nothing that she could do now but wait. Perhaps giving Cornelius a good brushing would help ease her nerves. At the very least the hart was a very good listener.