Fury racked through her body like currents of a malicious tempest, heated gusts of anger and disbelief tearing her apart limb by limb. Her teeth ached from how hard she was grinding them, her nails were breaking skin and drawing blood from the tightness of her fists. Every breath was deep, desperate, grasping for patience and peace. Delani was beyond words, beyond language, incensed beyond comprehension, and it took everything she had in her to not take a swing at Sera's smug face.
She and the other elf woman had trouble getting along from the start. Much like Solas at the beginning, Sera did not approve of Delani's Dalish heritage. Unlike Solas, Sera had not made any attempts to try to understand Delani or her people. Sera was strong minded and stubborn, traits that Delani typically found endearing, but Sera's stubbornness blinded her to the reality of the Dalish struggle.
When it came to the topic of elves, and being an elf, Delani mostly avoided the conversation. She knew that any talk of the Dalish people would escalate into an argument. And it had. Delani had come to the tavern to converse with her companions, to check in with everyone and make sure that they were all doing fine. She hadn't intended to linger about in Sera's personal nook, but the other woman had inquired about Cullen learning Elvish.
The look of disapproval in Sera's eyes had been irksome from the start, but Delani hadn't pursued her annoyance. Instead, she'd confirmed that, yes, Cullen was in fact learning Elvish, and tried to end the conversation at that. However, Sera did not let it go.
Their conversation had evolved from why Cullen would even bother, to how the Dalish thought they were superior to all other elves, and then onto how they needed to get over their past and stop pouting like a 'bunch of piss-babies'. Every time Delani would try to leave the conversation, she would get sucked right back in, getting more and more heated each time. Already, it was all she could do to keep from jumping the other woman and beating her face into the back of her head.
"A victim will always be a victim, yeah?" Sera stated, raising her chin with indignation. Her green eyes flashed in provocation, and Delani knew that the other woman was goading her, pushing her, prodding her until she reacted. "Easy to cry about it, harder to do something, innit?"
Delani shook her hands at her sides, loosening her fists before she sent them flying. Sera was entitled to her opinion, she tried to remind herself, even if it was wrong. Taking several deep breaths, Delani didn't tear her gaze from Sera's as she tried to calm herself back down. Her efforts were for naught. It didn't matter how many deep breaths she took, or how many calming thoughts she forced, Delani's anger would not be abated. Pretending that Sera's words didn't bother her was no longer a sound strategy, silence was no longer her weapon. Delani wanted to fight back, and she couldn't stop herself once she started.
"You don't like the Dalish people, Sera? That's fine, you don't have to." Delani bit out, fighting for control of the decibel and tone of her voice. It would be easy to scream at Sera, to verbally rip her apart, but that would only make her feel justified in her thoughts of the Dalish people.
She took a half step toward the other woman before she stopped herself. For Sera's own sake Delani had to maintain distance between them. Proximity would make it easier for her to attack, and once Delani got started she would not stop.
"But do not pretend for one second that you understand the struggle that my people go through."
Sera scoffed and Delani's blood boiled. "Because they want to. Because it's easier."
"Easier?" Delani repeated incredulously before exclaiming, "Easier?" Outraged, Delani forced herself to take a step backwards, ignoring the part of her that demanded that she launch herself at Sera and force the other woman to eat her words.
"Explain to me what is easy about whole clans being decimated by bandits?" She did take a step forward then, her words pushing her from where she'd pinned herself to the wall. Her anger was a dangerous thing, and Delani fought with herself to suppress it. She was losing. "Explain to me what is easy about those bandits raping women and children? Explain to me what is easy about slavers coming in the middle of the night, tearing caravans apart, and selling the survivors into slavery?"
Already she was standing in front of Sera, her body posed for the attack, her chest rapidly rising and falling with the intensity of her fury. Delani didn't reach for Sera, she maintained her fists at her sides, struggling with what little self-control she had left. Her voice was low, even as it shook with the ferocity of her emotions.
"What is easy about listening to your family, your clan scream as they are massacred? Watching the only home you've ever known and all of your belongings burn as humans laugh? Having your ears sawed off of your head and being strung into a necklace to be worn by the monsters who have destroyed everything you love and taken everything you have?
"Tell me, Sera!" she eventually shouted, her anger getting the best of her, her voice trembling with outrage that would either come out as violence or tears. Lip curling into a snarl, Delani demanded, "What is easy about any of that?"
Just when she thought that she would not be able to restrain herself for a moment longer, the soft sound of a young man's voice calmed the storm raging inside of her. "Realization dawns like dew turned to frost," said Cole in that trance like voice of his. "They're not coming, are they? Dread and anger blacken what was once hope. No, da'mi, Falon'din guides them now."
Cole blinked and he was out of her mind, back in his body so that he could assess what he had seen. "Their suffering makes you feel helpless, but you aren't helpless." The sickly looking lad gave her a soft, encouraging smile. "You are strong, you can help them now."
"Thank you, Cole," Delani said with a sigh. He had pulled her from the edge, kept her from submitting her to her blinding rage. She no longer felt like she was going to wring Sera's neck at any second. She still wanted to, but now it was an urge she could suppress. With a forced smile of her own she assured him, "I feel better now, lethallin, you can leave us."
Nodding once, Cole disappeared from the doorway, leaving Delani and Sera alone once again.
When Delani returned her attention to Sera, the other woman's gaze was on the empty doorway and she muttered, "Creepy."
Delani wiped a hand down her face and took a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Sera. The other woman preferred ignorance over understanding. Cooly regarding her, Delani stated, "I don't claim that the Dalish are perfect. We have our faults, and we have our problems. And some of those would disappear if we simply accepted the way things are and adapted."
The look on Sera's face turned victorious, as though Delani were admitting defeat, which was the opposite of what she was doing. Delani had to suck in another deep breath in order to maintain her veneer of calm. "We may be too stubborn and too proud to ever admit that we get things wrong, but the Dalish don't have a Red Jenny." Sera's eyes hardened and Delani felt as if, finally, she had struck a cord. She pursued the line of thought, hoping that maybe she would get through to the other woman.
"When my people are cheated, bullied, taken advantage of, and killed in their beds there is no one for them to turn to, there is no one to defend them." Raising her chin, she finished, "Hate the Dalish if you want, but know that hating them doesn't make you better than them. It just makes you a part of the problem." and left Sera alone in her nook.
Delani knew that nothing she'd said would stay with Sera. She'd just wasted her breath, and had gotten all worked up over nothing. If anything came from that confrontation it would be that, hopefully, next time that Sera broached the topic of elves it would be with a little more caution. It wasn't much, but Delani would take what she could get when it came to Sera.
She left the tavern in a rush, desperate for the cool mountain air on her cheeks. Once she stepped outside, she sucked in a deep breath and tried to banish what remained of her anger toward Sera. Delani didn't want to dislike the other elf. The fact of the matter was that Delani actually admired her in a way. Sera was strong willed, she cared for people, and she wanted to help them. Sera was talented with a bow, and had this goofy laugh that pulled a smile from anyone within hearing distance.
But Delani just couldn't do it. She couldn't force herself to like Sera. She could work beside her, sure, help her with her 'friends', no problem, but like her; she had tried, and she had failed. It honestly bothered Delani that she and the other woman couldn't get along. They shared many of the same ideals. Help people who couldn't help themselves, and put people who took advantage of others in their place. On paper they should have been fast friends, in practice they were at each other's throats more often than not.
Nothing she had said to Sera was a lie. The Dalish people played the 'what we once had was taken from us' card like it was the only one in the deck, but that did not mean that they were victimizing themselves. Dalish clans were attacked, they were ransacked, the people were executed or sold off into slavery, their goods stolen or set aflame. These were not acts from the past, these were crimes being currently committed against her people. Clan Lavellan hadn't experienced such threats to that severity, but word spread among Dalish clans, and every ten years the Arlathvhen was smaller than it had been the decade prior. And no one gave a damn. Now that she was Inquisitor that was about to change.
With a shake of her head, she put those thoughts on the back burner. There were many things that would change with her being Inquisitor, most of them were out of her control. The plight of the Dalish, along with many other things, would have to wait to be addressed at another time. For now, Delani just wanted to enjoy the day before she was off to clean up someone else's mess again.
Combing her fingers through her auburn hair, Delani strode toward the main hall. There was something that she needed to discuss with Solas in regards to what he knew of the Beyond. She had spoken to him many times already about the topic but, some nights, nightmares of their time there disturbed her slumber, and she thought that if she understood it better she would have less cause to fear it.
As soon as she stepped foot into the main hall her attention was drawn to Varric. The look in his eyes was of warning. He was alerting her to a coming threat. Delani's brows furrowed and she looked around the hall. She scanned the room from the far wall all the way down and found that there was nothing out of the ordinary. But she trusted the dwarf with her life. If he thought there was danger that's because there was.
When an accented voice called for her, "Inquisitor, a moment," Delani immediately understood what Varric's warning had been about.
Delani noticed Mother Giselle coming her way and sighed through her nose. Glancing back at Varric, she narrowed her eyes and he shrugged in reply. He had tried to warn her, it wasn't his fault that she'd failed to react to the warning in time to escape Mother Giselle.
As her elder and a woman of faith, Delani respected Mother Giselle, it was just how she was raised to be. But sometimes the holy woman had a tendency of being on the overbearing side. She was a pious woman who sometimes stepped on the toes of the people she cared for. Delani liked the woman, had a soft spot for her even, but she was no Andrastian and that was not about to change no matter how often Mother Giselle tried.
"What can I do for you, Mother Giselle?" Delani wondered, placing her hands on her hips and releasing a long sigh through her nose. She hoped that this would be a quick conversation. The topic of Delani's immortal soul was not one that she wanted to discuss at the moment.
Mother Giselle stood in front of Delani with her back straight and shoulders set, but she was wringing her hands and Delani could tell that she wanted to discuss something uncomfortable. "That Tevinter mage friend of yours—"
She quirked an eyebrow in warning. It had not taken long for Delani to warm up to Dorian. He was her friend, and she would not listen to anyone talk about him as though he were a thing and not a person. "His name is Dorian," she reminded the Mother, allowing some bite into her voice. Only enough to get her message across.
When she noticed Mother Giselle recognize the warning, Delani softened her tone and wondered, "What about him?"
"I've been in correspondence with his parents, and they would like to arrange a meeting." Mother Giselle informed her, her tone cautious as though she suspected that Delani wouldn't approve of the communication. "I need your help."
Delani's brows shot toward her hairline with surprise. From what she'd learned from Dorian about Tevinter, she was surprised that his parents would reach out to someone of the 'backwater' Ferelden Chantry. Even more surprising was that they wanted to speak to Dorian. He hadn't divulged much to her about his relationship with his parents, but what he had shared made it clear that they did not part on good terms. Delani suspected a trap, but there was a chance that his parents were reaching out to apologize. She needed details and only mother Giselle had those.
"Tell me everything," instructed Delani, crossing her arms in front of her chest and taking a step closer to the Mother. She would decide her next step after Mother Giselle filled her in.
Cullen's belly ached from how hard he was laughing. His face was buried in the crook of his arm on his desk. His fist hammering its surface as amusement shook his body. Dorian was seated on the edge of his desk beside him, his accompanying laughter almost as humorous as the story he was telling.
Fighting back chuckles, Dorian coughed in attempt to clear his throat and calm himself down enough to finish his story. "I'm telling you, Commander," there was still a laugh in his voice, straining to keep amusement from choking him completely. "The entire estate smelled like a cheap Antivan whore house for a month after that. Mother was furious." He changed his voice to a falsetto to mock his mother's outrage. "Do you have any idea how long these rugs have been in our family, Dorian, she'd said, And now they're stained with wine and Maker knows what else! The Templars rescinded all invitations from then on out."
He leaned back in his seat, the last of his laughter bubbling out of him as Cullen wiped the tears from his eyes. Taking several deep breaths in attempt to calm himself back down, the grin on his lips would not ebb even when his laughter started to subside. There was a reason he allowed Dorian to drop in unannounced and distract him from his work, and it was more than the fact that he told a good story. Dorian was his friend, one of the closest ones he'd made in a very long time.
With a shake of his head, Cullen replied, "I cannot imagine why."
Dorian shrugged before admitting, "Neither can I." The smile on his face was shameless, his strange grey eyes sparkling with amusement. "I thought we were having a grand time."
"Debauchery's not for everyone, I suppose," Cullen countered, scratching the coarse stubble covering his chin.
The other man grinned impishly before raising a challenging eyebrow and commenting, "Debauchery is how you stay young, my friend. You should try it some time, it might do you some good."
He shook his head again, a soft chuckle sounding from him as Cullen respectfully declined Dorian's less-than-sound advice. "Somehow I doubt that."
"You never know until you try," Dorian jestingly insisted.
Smiling up at Dorian, Cullen carelessly shrugged and rebuked, "Then I suppose I will never know."
A defeated sigh sounded from Dorian as he shook his head in disappointment. Carefully making sure that his perfectly styled hair was still in place, he stated, "Fine, be a stick in the mud for the rest of your days. See if I care." Turning a playfully pointed glare onto Cullen, his eyes narrowed and he cautioned, "But when your skin starts pruning up like an old leather boot, don't come crying to me."
Before Cullen could make a poorly put together comeback the door to his office opened, pulling them both from their conversation. A smile immediately unearthed on his face at the sight of Delani entering his office, but quickly fell away at the sight of her serious expression.
"Delani," he started, momentarily forgetting that they had an audience, and that with propriety came titles. "Is everything alright?"
She nodded reassuringly at Cullen before moving her attention to Dorian. Stepping deeper into Cullen's office, she approached the mage with uncertainty in her sea green eyes. There was a piece of parchment rolled up in her hands, but Dorian had yet to notice the tension in her features.
"Ah, Lady Inquisitor." He greeted her with a happy grin. "I was wondering when you would show up." Giving Cullen a quick glance he commented, "Like a moth to a flame."
Only when she didn't reply with a grin or a witty retort did Dorian take notice of her atypical behavior. His smile started to fall, the shine in his eyes dimming with weariness. Delani closed the gap remaining between them and stood in front of Cullen's desk.
"Dorian," she started, her voice gentle, unusually so. "There's a letter that you need to see."
"A letter!" Dorian replied, trying to bring back the levity that had fled the room with Delani's arrival. Quirking an eyebrow, he playfully wondered, "Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?"
Delani glanced at Cullen and was met by his confusion. Something was wrong and it pertained to Dorian, but she was reluctant to reveal what it was. She blinked and her gaze was returned to the mage. "Not quite," she sighed in reply to his joking inquiry. Biting her bottom lip she took a deep breath before explaining, "It's from your father."
The change in Dorian was instantaneous. His back stiffened, the color drained from his face, all jokes were thrown aside and the man looked as though a reaper were standing in Delani's place. "My father," he said softly, dread in the undercurrents of his tone. "I see."
Crossing his arms defiantly in front of his chest, Dorian raised a displeased eyebrow before begrudgingly investigating, "And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?"
She glanced down at the letter rolled up in her hand before she answered, "A meeting."
When Dorian curtly instructed her to, "Show me this letter," Delani handed it over without argument.
He took the letter from her grasp and unrolled the parchment. Moving from behind Cullen's desk, Dorian paced to the far side of the room, quiet as he read the words. Cullen's attention moved from Dorian to Delani and, wordlessly, he asked what this was all about.
She must have understood the question in his eyes, because she rounded his desk and stood beside him. When she shook her head it was to relay that she couldn't say what it was about, but if he only waited he would soon find out. So Cullen sought Dorian out at the other side of the room and read the man's facial features. They were hard, tense, miffed even. The tension in his fingers was wrinkling the parchment in his hands. Whatever was scribed on that paper was not to Dorian's liking and Cullen found himself worried for his friend.
Once he was done reading, Dorian turned sharply to face them again. He was gripping the letter tightly, angrily. Brows furrowed with distaste, he growled, "I know my son." repeating what Cullen assumed to be a line from the letter.
Incredulously, Dorian spat, "What my father knows of me could barely fill a thimble." Shaking his head in annoyance, he grumbled, "This is so typical."
He began to pace the length of the room again, his annoyance and anger growing with each footfall. Gesturing with his hands as he spoke, Dorian exclaimed, "He hired a retainer! And I'm willing to bet that he's a henchman. Here to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter."
Cullen watched as Dorian paced, worry filling his gut. He and Dorian only breached the topic of home briefly, it was one that the mage was not comfortable discussing. From what Cullen knew, Dorian and his father had had words and Dorian had come to Ferelden shortly after. That was all that Dorian had divulged, and Cullen hadn't thought it right to pursue the topic. Now, a part of him wished that he had. What had happened to Dorian and his father to cause such a rift to grow between them?
Suddenly Dorian stopped pacing. He crushed the parchment in his fist, an angry breath wheezing out of him as determination filled his features and squared his shoulders. Without looking up from his tightly curled fingers, he growled, "Let's go." He did look up at them then, his grey eyes dark with anger, but Cullen could see the trepidation hiding in those stormy eyes as well. "Let's go meet this family retainer."
Her voice pulled his gaze from Dorian. "If that's what you want, Dorian." The set of Delani's features was strange, uncertain but committed, worried but unyielding, supportive but detached. It was obvious that she approved of Dorian's decision to seek out this retainer, what was less obvious was why.
"I'm following your lead on this one," she assured him. "He's your father, whether or not we do this is your decision."
Dorian nodded once. "If it's a trap we escape and kill everyone." He gave Delani an approving once over. "You're good at that. If it's not I'll send the man back to my father with a message that he can stick his alarm in his 'wit's end'."
Not pushing the topic any further, Delani nodded curtly and instructed Dorian to, "Tell Iron Bull and Varric that we're heading out. You have an hour to prepare. I'll meet you at the gates when it's time."
"Let's see what comes of this," Dorian said before leaving Cullen's office to let the others know that they were heading out in an hour.
The door slammed shut behind Dorian, leaving Delani and Cullen alone in his office. There was still a tension in the room, a tension that should have left on Dorian's coattail. Looking up at Delani it was easy to see that she was the one radiating the discomfort bogging down the room. For a moment all Cullen did was look at her. She was beautiful, even tense as she was, but this trouble with Dorian had stirred up something inside of her, and that discomfort was creasing her lovely features.
"Delani—"
"My father died," she interrupted him, cutting straight through whatever conversation would lead up to her admission. Delani probably knew what he would ask, she probably knew that he was curious about why she appeared to care so much about this.
She wasn't looking at him, her attention was on the door that Dorian had just exited from. Tapping her fingers on his desk, Delani closed her eyes and shook her head, clearing her mind before she met Cullen's gaze. When her sea green eyes held his, Cullen could see the pain hidden in those bright and bottomless gems. This was why she didn't speak of her father, the topic was one that caused her pain.
"Ma atishan," Cullen whispered, the practiced words still felt strange in his mouth. Pushing himself up from his chair so that he was standing behind Delani, he brushed a kiss on her shoulder and breathed her in. Their differences in size had always been endearing to him, now he hoped that she might take comfort in it as well. He hoped that being embraced by his larger frame would allow her to borrow some of his strength, make her feel protected and safe.
Delani turned to face him, resting her bottom on the edge of his desk. She grabbed him by the front of his cloak and pulled him near to her. Cullen encircled his arms around her, holding her closely while giving himself enough space to see the tormented expression on her face. He had been wanting to ask her about her father for so long, but Delani met the topic with such indomitable resistance that he thought it best to let it come out naturally.
The time had finally come, and Cullen was more than willing to listen to everything that she was willing to share. He wanted to know this part of her, he wanted to know every part of her, and he would be a fool if he didn't think that Delani's father hadn't played a very large role in who she was as a person.
Chewing on her bottom lip, Delani focused on a spot on Cullen's chest as she spoke, unable to meet his gaze for whatever reason. "I was seventeen," she started, her voice was soft, barely a decibel higher than a whisper. "We were out on a hunt. We would play this game," she said with a nostalgic laugh. Delani did look up at Cullen then, a reluctant smile on her lips and misery in her misty eyes. "Who ever took down the biggest kill would get to request the first story from Hahren Niveen."
She sniffed away her emotions, shook her head, and coughed out another poignant laugh. "We had played the game ever since I was a little girl, we weren't going to stop just because I was an adult." Her grip on his cloak tightened and Delani held his gaze for a moment.
Cullen clenched his jaw at the sight of sadness filling her beautiful green eyes, eyes that were typically filled with laughter and delight. He wanted to take this pain from her, wanted to erase whatever terrible thing happened that burdened her so terribly. Delani had a soul too lovely for such dark emotions, if he could bear the weight of them in her place he would have in a heartbeat. Instead, all he could do was hold her while she shared her story.
"The buck I'd spotted was larger than the one you and I hunted before," she said, reminding him of when she'd demanded he accompany her on a hunt. Worry for her clan had burdened her that day, today something else was troubling her, and memories sometimes wielded sharper teeth than worry ever could.
Returning her attention to his breastplate, Delani continued, "I slowed the buck down with throwing knives until I was finally able to get in for the kill. When my father came to help me get the buck back to camp I'd teased him relentlessly." The smile on her lips was forced, filled with self-loathing, and Cullen hated it. "You're losing your touch, old man, I'd said to him, does mother know that you are half the hunter I am?"
"You were having fun," Cullen reasoned. She couldn't hate herself for enjoying time with her father. Poor sportsmanship was hardly reason enough for the level of self-hatred permeating from her. "There's no harm in that."
"I was distracted," she snapped in return. Her eyes sharpened, her lips thinned, anger filled her expression and it was directed at herself. "I should have spent less time showboating and more time paying attention to my surroundings. If I'd been paying closer attention I would have seen that the stag had taken us into a dragon's territory. If I'd spent less time teasing my father I would have known that we were also being hunted."
He didn't reply. He couldn't. What could Cullen say to that? She'd been seventeen at the time, a young woman just out of adolescence. It made sense for her to be a cocky, arrogant brat. Most teenagers were. Surely she couldn't blame her father's death on her own adolescent snark.
Testing the fabric of his cloak between her fingers, Delani focused her gaze on the mannerism as she spoke. Her voice was level, distant, as though she were no longer with him but back in that place in her past that had hurt her so terribly. "I didn't notice the drake behind me until I saw the horror on my father's face. When I turned to face it I tripped on a root and, before the drake could devour me, my father started to shoot it with arrows."
"Sixteen arrows he unleashed into that drake, and not one missed its mark," she said as though the fact was one that still amazed her to this day. Shaking her head, Delani continued, "It wasn't enough to kill the drake, it wasn't even enough to slow him down. Instead of killing me, the drake went after my father." The color drained from her face, her eyes widened as she recalled the event. Horror filled Delani's face and all Cullen could do was watch as old demons clawed their way back to the surface.
Delani breathlessly whispered, "I can still hear his screams."
Not knowing what else to do, Cullen closed his arms around her and pulled Delani into his chest. He crushed her against him, squeezed her so tightly she would have no room to doubt that he would protect her from anything, be it a drake or this terrible memory. Kissing the top of her head, Cullen murmured against her hair, "Come back to me, ma atishan. Be here with me."
He could feel her trembling in his grasp, could hear her sniffing back her tears. After a moment she cleared her throat, set her shoulders, and pushed herself from Cullen's chest until there was space between them again. Her voice betrayed her when she next spoke, breaking at the beginning of her sentence before she cleared the emotion from her throat again.
"I don't remember how I killed the drake," she said. "One moment I was on the forest floor, watching, paralyzed in place as the beast devoured my father. The next moment I was on the drake's back, cutting my daggers into its neck until its head fell off."
When Delani met his gaze again he could see the tears back in her eyes, could easily recognize the loathing with which she regarded herself. She clasped her eyes tightly shut, but not before a stream of tears ran down her cheeks. Cullen cupped her face in his hands and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe her tears away. Gently he said, "You can't possibly blame yourself for your father's death."
Her eyes ripped open and she was glaring at him, angry that he would dare to argue her guilt in the matter. Tearing his hands from her face she growled, "Of course I can. Who else is to blame?"
Shaking his head in exasperation, Cullen supplied, "The drake, misfortune, fate?" When Delani started to shake her head, he gently gripped her by the chin and forced her to meet his gaze. "The situation was out of your control. You were young—"
"I was a hunter," she corrected as though that automatically locked her guilt into place.
"You were a girl," Cullen insisted, unwilling to hear anything to the contrary. "You were a girl who was at the wrong place at the wrong time and a wild animal, that you could have never anticipated, attacked you and your father. Your father died defending you, Delani, he didn't die because of you."
She was unwilling to listen. Stubborn as always, she would not be swayed. For years she had blamed herself for her father's death, still she thought she was at fault. He wouldn't be able to convince her that she was blameless, that it was just an unavoidable accident, the hand that life had dealt her. The only person that would ever help her come to terms with the events was herself and, after a decade, she still wasn't ready to accept that her father was gone and it wasn't her fault.
"It was because of me," she said, a sob in her voice. Delani pressed her head to his chest and her body shook as she cried.
Cullen wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. There was little more that he could do. All he could do was press her to him and hope that she would absorb his strength as her own. He had seen Delani laugh, but he had never witnessed her cry. Seeing her now, like this, broke his heart in two. How could a woman so brave, so strong, so empowered go so long believing that she could have changed the outcome of fate, that it was her fault that life was cruel and death was constant.
Whispering calming nothings into her ear, Cullen held onto Delani until her body stopped trembling, until she'd won over her emotions again. He knew that this was part of the problem. Delani didn't allow herself to feel her pain, she didn't allow herself to endure her suffering. She bottled it up, stored it away, and buried it deep inside. Now that she had to address this old buried box of anger and self-loathing, she was overcome by emotions that she should have already dealt with years ago.
He would help her through this. He would be there for this woman who held the weight of the world on her shoulders. Later he would acknowledge the part of him that was overly satisfied that she felt comfortable enough with him to let him see her like this. Later he would acknowledge the fact that she trusted him with this part of the past that she was so cripplingly ashamed of.
"If I had reacted quicker, if I had paid more attention, if I had kept my footing, if I'd just been better my father would still be alive and I wouldn't have lived for the last ten years knowing that I failed him."
"No," he wouldn't hear any more of it. Cullen forced her to hold his gaze, forced her to hear the truth of his words, and to feel the warmth of his affection for her. If she could see how much he cared about her, how highly he thought of her, then maybe she could see that perhaps all this blame that she had placed upon herself was unnecessary. "You were a girl with the misfortune of losing her father too soon. His death wasn't your fault, there was nothing that you could have done. You let these 'what if's plague you, but they are meaningless, because they change nothing."
Suddenly Cullen knew where Delani's fears of inadequacy stemmed from. Losing her father so violently had been more than emotionally scarring, but mentally as well. She blamed herself, and so she found fault with everything she'd been at the time: weak, inexperienced, unprepared. She'd just been a girl, a girl who expected too much from herself and didn't know how to handle her pain. Delani needed someone to blame, and it was easier to blame herself than to accept that sometimes things were out of her control and there was nothing that she could do about it.
"You didn't fail him, Delani," he assured her, locking her gaze with his, imprisoning her in his embrace so that she had no other choice but to listen. "Your father was proud of you until the moment he died. He wouldn't have blamed you for his death, so how can you blame yourself?"
Before she could answer, before she could argue her guilt further, Cullen stated, "You are not the girl you were back then. You've grown into a strong, intelligent, relentless, powerful woman. You are everything that your parents could have ever wanted you to be. You have to forgive yourself, Delani. You have to move on."
She stared up at him for a long time, processing his words. After a moment she nodded her head, her movements slow, labored. The admission, the unearthing of all of those feelings, it must have been taxing for her, but Cullen was glad that he had been able to help her through it.
Delani was quiet for a second, waiting for her emotions to smooth out. When she looked back up at Cullen she forced a smile onto her lips and said, "My father was the first man I ever loved. He was my world, and losing him destroyed me." She coughed out a self-deprecating laugh, embarrassed that he had just borne witness to that destruction. "We had the best relationship that a child could ever want with their father, and still there were so many things left unsaid between us, so many things that I wish that I'd had the chance to tell him.
"That is why I want to help Dorian with this." Finally they had made their way back to the purpose of her story. She had told him all of that, had bared her soul to him, so that he could fully understand how much helping Dorian meant to her. Delani would never get another chance to talk to her father, to say all of the things that had gone unsaid, but Dorian still had the chance.
"I know better than to compare my relationship with my father to his relationship with his," she said. "But I know that Dorian would hate himself if he didn't at least try."
Cullen nodded, he knew it too. Offering Delani a warm smile, he observed, "Have you any idea how beautiful you are?" She scoffed and turned away from him, but Cullen gently turned her face back towards him. He locked her green gaze with his, forced her to witness the sincerity and devotion in his eyes. "You are beautiful, Delani. Inside and out. Just looking at you leaves me breathless. You can't possibly imagine."
A rosy tint colored her cheeks and her lashes fluttered as a soft smile took her lips. Quietly, Delani rebuked, "I think I can imagine," before grabbing him by the collar of his cloak and pulling his lips down to hers.
The kiss was deep, needy, comforting. Delani needed his strength and he needed her affection. The emotions that had passed between them left her feeling vulnerable, and Cullen needed to reassure her that his feelings for her remained unchanged. Although, that wasn't exactly true. His feelings for Delani had changed, they'd grown stronger, they always grew stronger. Cullen was overwhelmed by her. His every sense became so easily consumed by her, his every fiber longed for her. Cullen wanted to know this woman, he wanted to have this woman, he wanted to show her how much he cared about her.
Their lips parted too quickly, leaving him longing for more. She pressed her forehead to his and sighed heavily. "I have to get ready to head out."
Just then Cullen remembered that she had given her men an hour to prepare, an hour that she had spent the better part of telling him about her father. She didn't have much time to get ready. Again, Cullen was seeing her off and hoping that she found her way safely back into his arms.
"Be careful, ma atishan."
"For you, vhenan'ara," she said with a smile, "I will try." Standing on the tips of her toes, she gave him another quick kiss before ducking out from under his arms and striding toward the door. The smile on her face was warm, grateful, and the look in her green eyes was content. "I'll be back in a day or two. Try not to miss me too much."
"Then I will have to remind myself to miss you in moderation," he returned, allowing his own smile to lift his lips. "Will that suffice, my lady?"
She shrugged, "It will have to do, Commander." Blowing him a kiss, Delani turned on her heel and left his office.
He watched as the door swung shut behind her. Sinking into his seat, Cullen considered all that he had learned today. Dorian's issues with his father ran deeper than he let on. Delani's guilt over her father's death was poison that consumed her, but Cullen hoped that they had lanced that wound and that all of the bad blood and buried feelings would bleed out on their own. She would heal, and he would help her along the way.
Cullen's feelings for Delani were more than they had once been, more than they had ever been. He had never felt towards anyone the way he felt about Delani. The name of the sentiment hung heavy on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to think it. What he and Delani shared was still young and unknown. There was still so much he wanted to know about her, there was still so much left to share. After they had spent more time together he would allow himself to think it, to feel it, to accept the fact that maybe —almost certainly— Cullen was falling for her.