To the Void and Back

by ElCapitan18

She's the Herald of Andraste, a Dalish elf, a wild woman that can be tamed by no man. He's the Commander of the Inquisition, an ex-Templar, and struggling between the man he was and the man he wishes to be. A budding romance would likely be squashed under the Inquisition's heel, but somehow it feels worth the risk. (Spoilers All. Rated M for a reason)

17. Chapter 17

This chapter has strong sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

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"Maker have mercy," Cullen groaned before scraping his teeth across the arch of Delani's neck. She felt too good, she was too much, the fiery heat of her tight passage was going to ruin him. It already had.

Her nails were digging into his shoulder blades, dragging down his back as she arched herself into his every thrust. Soft mews of pleasure had long since turned into loud demanding moans. She wanted release, she wanted satisfaction, but Cullen was making her wait just a little bit longer before finding either.

He placed a kiss on her neck, soothing the offended area before licking the frantic beat of her pulse. Maintaining a slow torturous rhythm, Cullen trailed his tongue from her neck all the way to her ear. With a quick bite to her earlobe, he tasted the shell of her long, pointed ear. He sucked on the sharp edge and Delani's entire body arched in response, a moan so loud and desperate that it filled the room ripped out of her. When he licked his way back down to her lobe, he hadn't enough time to even think before she shoved him off of her and climbed onto his lap.

The look in her dilated sea green eyes was dangerous, possessive, punishing. With her fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, Delani positioned him at her entrance. "Do you think it's cute to tease me with release, Commander?"

His heart was beating excitedly in his ears, desire so hot it burned like liquid fire coursing through his veins. Delani hovered over him, her clay colored skin glistening with sweat. She looked unreal, like a goddess of vengeance casted from bronze with eyes of emerald and hair of silk dyed by blood. Her round breasts were reddened by his touch, small round nipples beckoning his mouth, his treasured coin had been fashioned into a necklace by a thin rope and was cuddled between the valley of her cleavage.

Cullen placed his hands on her hips as he continued to admire her. Her muscles were hard under his grasp, defined abdominals taut under her skin. Everywhere he touched was shaped by strength, iron encased by velvet, steel accentuated by delicious feminine curves. Delani's body was a temple and Cullen needed to worship her properly.

"Well," she demanded an answer to a question that he couldn't remember. Her lower lips were soaked by her excitement, her desire, and she was depriving him of her feminine embrace. Her eyebrow was cocked as she awaited his reply, the look in her eyes was unforgiving.

A beastly moan rumbled out of him, starting from his chest and vibrating between them. "Emma abelas, ma atishan," he breathed out the apology and his arousal jerked in her grasp.

Delani narrowed her eyes. "You are not forgiven." Slowly, torturously, she lowered herself onto him completely. Her head fell back and a moan escaped her the same time that a needy hiss dragged through his clenched teeth.

Once he was enveloped by the embrace of her hot cradle once more her eyes reopened, Delani looked down to meet Cullen's desperate and hooded gaze. "Put your hands on the headboard," she instructed, peeling his fingers from her hips. When Cullen complied, a wolfish smirk twisted her lips and she said, "I will take what I want from you and you will watch. You are not to remove your hands from that headboard until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"

He had never heard more arousing instructions in his entire life. "Yes," he said with a breathless exhale.

"Good."

Delani started to rock against him and suddenly Cullen wasn't so sure that he could keep his word. She felt too good. He had to touch her. His fingers strained against the wood above his head, his knuckles white from the force with which he was gripping it.

Cullen watched as her breasts bounced. He watched as her hips rolled. He watched as sweat glistened on her skin, rivulets of exertion dripping down the exquisite curves of her body. He licked his lips and threw his head back into the pillow. A frustrated growl rumbled out of him. He didn't know how much longer he could continue to suffer this punishment. Not when her flesh sang so beautifully in want of his touch. Delani was a siren, and he was spellbound, a thrall whose only desire was to touch her all over, please her, possess her.

Enduring his punishment through gritted teeth, Cullen arched his hips deeper into Delani and they both moaned in response to the depth of his thrust. She leaned forward, placing her hands on his chest to perch herself up, Delani held Cullen's gaze as she continued to ride him. Cullen thrust up again and her eyes clasped tightly shut, her nails buried in his chest, ragged breaths were pulled through clenched teeth.

When she opened her eyes again he was pinned in place by what he found in her green gaze. Suddenly Cullen wasn't her prey, her possession, her plaything. Delani was looking at Cullen as though he were life, as though he were everything, and his heart lurched in his chest.

"Delani," his whispered, her name a prayer on his lips. Maintaining his hold on the headboard, Cullen readjusted his grip and fought the temptation to release it completely. He held her gaze, his request clear in his eyes.

She leaned back in his lap, continuing to gyrate her hips, never stopping from pushing herself closer and closer to satisfaction. Nodding once, Delani combed her auburn hair away from her face and breathlessly beckoned him to, "Touch me, Cullen."

Without the need of further invitation, Cullen released the headboard and touched her all over. His hands roved the scape of her body, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples, feeling down the plane of her stomach, gripping her hips as she rolled against him. Her moans were loud, her rhythm was frantic, she was moving with a desperation that he knew well, that he was intimately familiar with, that he was suffering right that very moment.

Cullen could feel his climax creeping down his spine, delicious foreboding awaiting him just around the corner. Refusing to meet release before Delani had enjoyed her own, his fingers found the bundle of nerves at the seam of her womanhood. He started to rub her bud in quick circles that matched the pace of her rolling hips.

"Creators, Cullen," she cried out, her head falling back, her chest heaving as she struggled to find breath. Her pace quickened, her walls started to tighten around him. "Don't fucking stop."

Stop? He wouldn't dare, he was too close. Cullen matched the rock of her hips thrust for thrust and in a matter of seconds Delani fell apart at the seams. A cry sounded from her as she melted on top of him, falling onto his chest as her every bone was rendered useless.

With her laying on his chest, Cullen gripped her by the curve of her rear and hammered into her. The pulse of her vaginal walls was his undoing. As she tightened around him, mind numbing contractions squeezing him relentlessly, he pushed into her one last time before stepping over the edge and falling into the oblivion of ecstasy.

She lay on his chest, her ear over the rapid beat of his heart. They laid like that for a little while, catching their breaths. After a few seconds she brushed a kiss to his chest and cleared her throat. "That was…"

Cullen hugged her against him, still inside her as his arousal softened. Breathing in her scent of wildflowers and sex, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before inarticulately agreeing, "I know."

He could feel her smile against his chest before she lifted her face to look at him. Perching her elbow on his shoulder, she rested her cheek in the palm of her hand and stared down at him. As she ran her fingers through his hair, she wondered, "Remind me again why it took us so long to do this."

Closing his eyes to enjoy the feel of her digits combing through his hair, Cullen released a slow exhale. There was a mild ache starting to take shape in the back of his head, a warning of the migraine soon to come. He had felt it earlier, when he'd first awoken, but the sight of Delani sleeping beside him had been too arousing to resist. Their morning excursion had been a pleasant distraction from the headache, but now that it was over there was nothing to stop the inevitable migraine.

With his eyes still shut, Cullen rubbed a hand down her naked back and admitted, "There was a reason." A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I just can't remember what it was."

"Hey," the concern in her voice pulled his eyes open again. Cullen stared up at Delani, catching the worry in her gaze. She caressed the side of his face, her brows furrowed, her lips pulled into a thin line. Cupping his cheek in her delicate hand, she wondered, "Is everything alright?"

Cullen offered her a reassuring smile before gently moving her hand from his cheek and placing a kiss in her palm. "It's just a headache," he confessed only for a sharp sting of guilt to jolt through him. He hadn't told her about the lyrium yet. Cullen knew he had to, knew that he should have already, but fear of her reaction had kept him silent. He would tell her… later.

Delani placed a kiss on his brow before looking back down at his face, a small smile on her full lips as she asked, "Better?"

A grin expanded over his lips and Cullen flipped Delani onto her back. Careful not to crush her with his weight he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose and answered, "Much. Ma serannas, ma atishan."

Her gaze was warm as she stared up at him, tender, adoring. She softly gripped him by the nape of the neck and pulled his lips down to hers. The kiss was deep, telling, relaying to him emotions that he found brewing within himself. Her smell of wildflowers was in his nose again, her heat warming up his skin. Delani broke away from him before the temptation to go another round became too difficult to resist.

Rolling out from under him, Delani sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched her arms over her head, a high pitched squeak sounding from her with the effort. Cullen rolled onto his side and watched her, admired how her well defined back muscles shifted with her every motion. The crimson line work of her vallaslin slithered down her spine, branched out over her shoulders, and down her arms to her elbows. It was beautiful, breathtaking, and he couldn't help himself when he reached out to trace the design.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, the tip of his finger following a crimson line as it bent from her spine over her ribcage.

Delani shook her head. "It was more annoying than anything," she supplied, glancing at him over her shoulder to watch him stare at her. When he looked up from her back to meet her gaze, she smiled and explained, "The pain of the needle digging into your skin is like a sharp pinch, but it doesn't stop. You have to sit there, motionless, while a needle buries ink into your skin for hours. After a while the pain becomes frustrating."

A breath expelled from his lungs as he tried to imagine the process. His fingers fell from Delani's back as she bent over to collect her clothes from the floor. Standing from his bed, she pulled on her smalls, securing her breast band in place before pulling on her tights and tugging on her tunic. Her gaze was pointed upward as she pulled her hair out from under her tunic and a curious expression twisted her features.

"Vhenan'ara," she started, amusement in her tone. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but there is a gaping hole in your roof."

Cullen fell onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. A bright beam of daylight broke through the crumbling wood and brightened his room. Cradling his head in his hands, Cullen allowed a grin to spread over his mouth. "Would you look at that," he retorted, unable to hide his amusement. "I hadn't noticed."

She scoffed. "Obviously, or it wouldn't still be like that." When Cullen grinned at Delani she quirked an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk at the edges of her mouth. "Creators, Cullen, what do you do when it rains, or if it snows?"

"My bed is on the other side of the room," he stated in his defense, a chuckle following suit when Delani pinned him down with an faux-unamused glare. Sighing in defeat, Cullen asked, "You want me to get it fixed, don't you?"

The smile that had been hiding just under the surface of her lovely features finally broke free. Giving him an exasperated look, Delani answered his question with a question. "Why haven't you fixed it already?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he bashfully supplied, "I haven't gotten to it yet."

With a shake of her head, Delani crawled back onto the bed and brushed a quick kiss onto his lips. Pulling away, she stared down at him and said, "I can't tell you what to do with your own space. But I can tell you that if you get sick because of that hole in your roof, I will be very cross with you." Gently patting his cheek, she pushed herself off of the bed and started for the ladder that would let her descend to his office.

"Trust me, Commander," she started as she lowered herself down onto the ladder. Holding his gaze, she assured him with a mildly reprimanding grin, "My ire is not something that you want to have."

Smiling back at her, Cullen replied, "I will keep that in mind, Inquisitor."

She started down the ladder as she said, "Be sure that you do," and disappeared from his quarters.

Cullen waited for the sound of his office door opening and closing before he bothered to roll out of bed. There was still a smile on his lips but, with pulse of pain that jarred through his skull, it quickly gave way to a wince. Now that his only source of distraction had left him, there was nothing to stop his migraine from rolling through his head like the slow crawl of fog. The ache was mild now, but he knew that the pain would progress through the rest of the day.

Sighing, Cullen mentally prepared himself to deal with the pain. He would bear it like he always did. In silence. After making his bed, he put on his underclothes, then moved on to his armor before sliding his arms through the sleeves of his cloak. The fur tickled his neck, warming him against the slight chill that snuck into the room through the hole overhead.

He gave the roof a quick glance, smiling to himself at the memory of Delani glowering at it, as he adjusted the fit of his sword at his waist. On the other side of his belt, Delani's lucky carving knife was sheathed. It would stay with him always, just as his coin would always be with her. In a sense, they would always be together, have a part of each other, and the thought warmed his heart.

Once he was dressed and prepared to face the day, Cullen descended from his bedroom and stepped into his office. The day had only just started, and Skyhold was still in the process of waking to face it full on. Last night had been the first that Delani had spent in his bed since their relationship had escalated into something more. Even though they'd woken up ready and eager to explore each other fully, she had been mindful to leave his quarters before too many people could see her go and realize the true nature of what their relationship had become.

Cullen knew that there were already rumors spreading, whispers circling about their relationship. It wasn't that he was ashamed or embarrassed, the simple fact of the matter was that he wanted the intimate details of their relationship to stay between them. What he and Delani did in his bed or hers was no one else's business but their own. It wouldn't stop the rumor mill from churning up one ridiculous speculation after the other, but he would take a semblance of privacy wherever he could.

Parchment paper lay scattered over his desk, reports from the previous night forgotten the moment Delani had come in hopes of distracting him. It was something she had become quite proficient at. Cullen had managed to resist her for a total of two minutes before allowing himself to be seduced into following her up the ladder to his bed. But now he had twice the work to do.

Another surge of pain ricocheted off of the walls of his skull. Cullen pressed his fingers into his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. With the ache came a familiar wave of nausea. Had he eaten anything it would have rolled in his gut and threatened to come up. Luckily, he had opted to skip breakfast in order to enjoy more time with Delani. Rubbing this temples, he took in several deep breaths, forcing his stomach to settle, before reopening his eyes and getting started with work.

Once he was seated at his desk he did not move again until hours had already passed and every piece of parchment that touched his desk had been attended to. By the time that the noonday sun filtered into his office through the windows, the paperwork on his desk was already read and signed, and all that was left for him to do was to go to the war table and strategize with his captain where the Inquisition's forces were most needed.

Headache still ringing loudly in his head, Cullen continued to ignore the pain as he left his office and started for the main hall. He strolled through the rotunda, surprised to not find Solas at his desk until he heard two mages up in the library in the midst of a heated debate. With a shake of his head, he left the atrium and stepped into the main hall. The din of chattering nobles prodded at his migraine, but Cullen bit back the pain.

Varric acknowledged him with a nod, and Cullen returned the greeting in like before heading for the war room. Something in his expression must have revealed his mood, because the dalliers in the main hall were giving him a wide berth as he passed, and conversation died on their lips until he was out of earshot.

Opening the door to Josephine's office, he stepped into the ambient glow of candles and the smell of lavender. The Antivan ambassador was situated at her desk, quill in hand, working single-mindedly on whatever task was laid out before her. Without so much as looking up to see who had entered her office, Josephine greeted him with a pleasantness in her tone that he found surprising; considering how concentrated she was on her work.

"Captain Ophelia is waiting for you in the war room," she said. "I've instructed for food to be delivered to you in an hour's time."

Unsurprised by her considerate gesture, Cullen bowed his head in gratitude even though he knew she wouldn't see the motion. "Thank you, Josephine."

She nodded in acceptance of his gratitude and refocused all of her attention into work. With nothing left to be said between them, Cullen started for the war room once again. The door opened with a creak, and Captain Ophelia was leaning forward on the table, her brows furrowed in thought.

Looking up at the sound of his arrival, the captain stood at attention until he instructed her to be at ease. He rounded the table to stand beside her and look at what she'd been so concentrated on. Perching his hands on the pommel of his sword, Cullen observed, "I've seen you wear that look before, Captain. What's the matter?"

Captain Ophelia stared up at him with her near black eyes. She was a sturdy woman, tall and built like a qunari. With her skin tone of ebony, her full features were stern, serious, less prone to smiling than most accused Cullen of being. She was governed by strict morals and sound logic, and Cullen was glad to have her as his second in command. With her at his side, there was never a doubt that everything they set out to do would get done.

Her jaw popped in reply to his question. Pointing her attention back down to the map, she motioned to the marker over the Exalted Plains. "Inquisitor Lavellan has requested a bridge be built but with the ongoing conflict between Empress Celine's forces, Gaspard's chevaliers, the Free Men, and demons we don't have a strong enough presence to build and hold the bridge."

Cullen looked down at the map and considered their options. Wanting to know how his captain thought they should approach the matter, he asked, "What do you suggest we do?"

"Thanks to the Inquisitor we are facing next to no opposition in the Hinterlands," she started motioning to the other side of the war table where a marker sat on top of Redcliffe. "If we relocate a fraction of our forces from the Hinterlands and into the Exalted Plains we will be able to have a stronger foothold there."

Scraping his gloved fingers over his scruff, he let out a small sigh as he mulled over her suggestion. "The Hinterlands is the largest area under our protection. We need to maintain a presence there befitting its size."

She hummed in understanding before shaking her head. "Since recruiting the Templars, the mages have been eradicated from Redcliffe castle. With ours and King Alistair's help Arl Teagan has been able to retake control of his lands. A force that great is no longer necessary, and our men are needed elsewhere."

Tapping his fingers on the pommel of his sword, Cullen thought heavily over her suggestion. She had a point, but they still needed to consider all angles. After a deep breath, Cullen ignored the pulsing in his head and started to get to work with Captain Ophelia.

One hour in, his meeting with his captain was interrupted by the smell of food being carted into the war room. They continued to work as they ate, going over strategies and battle plans, discussing how the Inquisition's forces were improving, and which areas were in the most need of improvement. Before he realized it one hour had turned to three and Captain Ophelia had to excuse herself in order to get to the rest of her duties.

Cullen stayed in the war room, looking at the marker covered map. There was so much to do, just looking down at the table made it seem overwhelming. But, despite Delani's evasion of paperwork, she was phenomenal at delegating responsibilities. She knew everyone's strengths, and she knew how to use them. Every marker on the map would be addressed, one at a time, until everyone had a job to do and the necessary tools to get it done.

His migraine had worsened, like he knew it would. The pain was strongest behind his eyes, blurring the colors of the map as his vision faltered. Pinching the bridge of his nose and clamping his eyes tightly shut, he sucked in a series of heavy breaths until his stomach settled back down. For a moment he was too focused on conquering his pain to notice anything else.

That was why, when he opened his eyes to find Cassandra standing before him, he was surprised to discover that he was no longer alone. Cullen's hand fell from his face as he greeted the Seeker. "Lady Cassandra," he said, his voice level, professional. "Did you need something?"

She shook her head curtly, stepping up to the war table to look ever all of the markers. "Only to speak with you."

"In regards to what?" he asked, an eyebrow arched curiously.

"Dagna wants to perform an experiment with Knight-Captain Riley's men," Cassandra ended her explanation at the sight of Cullen wincing and rubbing at his temple. Completely disregarding what she had come to the war room to discuss with him, Cassandra asked, "Are you feeling alright, Commander?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to banish the worst of the pain as he gritted out, "Fine." After a moment the throbbing in his head ebbed just a bit and he was able to see clearly once again. Refocusing on Cassandra, Cullen gestured for her to continue with what she had been saying. "What did you need from me?"

"For you to tell me how you're doing," she answered, disregarding his question and unflinchingly holding the glare he pointed at her. Raising her chin, her next question came out in the form of an order. "How is the pain?"

Grinding his molars, he choked back the irritation that formed at the sound of her concern. Huffing out an impatient breath, Cullen assured her, "Manageable."

Cassandra knew that she would pull no more from him, so she crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave him a severe once over. Concern was obvious in her eyes, but her features were pulled tightly by her agitation with his stubborn behavior. Her gaze stopped at his waist and her eyes widened a bit. When Cullen looked down it was to find what she was staring at.

"That's the Inquisitor's carving knife," she stated, her voice distant, shocked. Cassandra looked up to meet his gaze and something like understanding began to unravel in her eyes. "She gave it to you?"

He felt a familiar heat start to burn under his cheeks and on the back of his neck, though he maintained his unshakable mien. "She did," Cullen said in answer to her question.

Unfazed by his shortness, Cassandra's attention went from his gaze down to the knife before meeting his eyes again. Brows arched with undisguised surprise, she wondered, "So your relationship with Delani is quite serious?"

A part of Cullen wanted to shout yes from the mountaintop, to scream it into the heavens until all of Thedas knew that Delani was his and he was hers. Instead, Cullen remained expressionless as he regarded Cassandra. His migraine had soured his mood, and her prodding was not helping to alleviate the issue.

"With all due respect, Cassandra," he started, keeping his tone professional. "I would prefer to keep the details of my relationship with Delani private."

She nodded that she understood, only to ask, "Does she know that you've stopped taking lyrium?" When Cullen's expression tightened so did hers, with disappointment and agitation. "She's the Inquisitor, Cullen. You have to tell her."

"I know that," he growled, not liking the lecturing tone her voice had taken.

Ignoring his ire, Cassandra returned, "So when will you tell her?"

He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed. Cullen had avoided the topic too long already. Cassandra had proven to be the fire under his ass to get him into action. He couldn't put this off much longer. Delani needed to know for more reasons than her outranking him.

Cullen sighed, and said, "Today."

They held each other's gazes for a second as Cassandra wordlessly offered her support. Turning on her heel, she started for the door and, as she reached for the knob, she looked back at Cullen with the reassurance, "She will understand." Not waiting for his reply she left him to stand alone in the war room again.

Another sigh eased out of him as he considered how the upcoming conversation with Delani would transpire. He hoped to the Maker that Cassandra was right. He did not know if he would be able to carry on without Delani's support. He needed for her to understand.

---

Arms crossed over her chest, Delani was leaning her back against the wall as she listened to a Chantry sister retell the tale of Warden-Commander Sophia Dryden's attempt to usurp the Ferelden Throne during the Storm Age. Children were littered throughout the room, listening to the history lesson with varying degrees of attention.

Her hunting trip with Cullen seemed so long ago but, true to his word, he had looked into giving the children at Skyhold an education. It had taken some arm twisting and promised debts, but he had been able to convince the chantry sisters, and a few of the enchanters that they had on staff, to educate the children for a few hours everyday. Delani liked to come and sit in whenever she had the time, though not as often as she liked; the children were easily distracted by her presence and it took too long for them to settle back down from their excitement in seeing her again.

Today though, she was present for another reason. She had to discuss something with Mother Giselle, and the woman had told her to meet her here. Combing back her hair, Delani struggled with nerves that was spreading through her gut like a thicket of vines. She had a surprise in mind for Cullen, and hoped to the Creators that he would like it, but there was a part of her that feared he might take offense instead.

She reached for her knife out of habit, only to find empty space where it had once hung on her belt. Her heart jumped into her throat before she remembered giving it to Cullen, an equal exchange for something dear to him. A smile inched along her lips as she pulled the coin out from under her tunic and stared down at it.

Afraid that she would lose the coin, Delani had drilled a small hole into the trinket and secured it with a thin black rope. Just as her knife would always remain at Cullen's side, his coin would always be near to her heart. They were a part of each other now. She just wished that she had more ways to demonstrate that to him. Hence her desire to speak with Mother Giselle.

"My Lady Inquisitor," a familiar accented voice sounded from beside Delani.

Tucking Cullen's coin back under her tunic, Delani pushed herself off of the wall and turned to greet Mother Giselle. The older woman was regarding her kindly, a maternal smile at the corners of her lips and unwavering patience in her eyes. She motioned with her hand for Delani to walk with her, and started for the stairwell that would lead them back up to the main hall.

"You wanted to speak with me, Inquisitor."

Delani looked back at the children and offered the few that were watching her departure a smile as farewell. Returning her attention to their conversation, Delani stated, "Yes," before nervously tucking her long bangs behind her ear and climbing up the steps beside Mother Giselle. "I wanted to ask you about the Chant of Light."

The human woman's gaze snapped to Delani and hope burned behind her dark brown eyes. They'd had the discussion of Delani's conversion to the faith a dozen times over, and never before had Delani shown any interest in Andrastianism. Knowing better than to push the topic before knowing exactly what it was Delani was asking after, Mother Giselle quietly waited for her to explain herself.

"How—" Delani stammered over herself, feeling awkward having this discussion. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to get it over with so that they might never have this conversation again. "How does one go about learning it?"

A small, encouraging smile spread over Mother Giselle's lips. "Have you changed your mind about denying the faith, my Lady Herald?" The hope in her eyes was loud in her voice. How great it would be for Mother Giselle, if conversion had really been what Delani was after, to convert the heretic Inquisitor and save her immortal soul.

Unafraid to disappoint Mother Giselle on the matter, Delani offered the elder woman an apologetic smile and confessed, "Not quite." When Mother Giselle's features fell, she explained the origins of her inquiry. "The words are important to someone dear to me. And I wanted to demonstrate to them that, though our beliefs are different, their faith is something I greatly admire."

"Things are quite serious between you and the Commander, aren't they?" commented Mother Giselle with a knowing smile on her face. At the sight of Delani's cheeks reddening, the older woman walked over to a nearby table and picked up a tome before Delani could start stammering excuses or falsehoods. She flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

Walking back to where Delani was standing, Mother Giselle handed the book over with the explanation, "May I suggest starting with the Canticle of Benedictions?" As Delani stared down at the words scribed on thin parchment, the older woman added, "And you may want to skim over the Canticle of Silence, chapter three, verse six, whenever you have the time."

Delani absently nodded as she continued to inspect the words on the page. Without looking up at Mother Giselle, she said, "Thank you, Mother."

"Of course, dear child," the pleasantness in the older woman's tone pulled Delani's gaze from the tome in hand. Offering Delani a warm smile, she said, "If you have any questions I will be more than happy to answer them for you. You know where to find me."

She nodded her understanding, before turning to leave. "Thank you again, Mother Giselle," she said over her shoulder as she left the main hall for the courtyard outside.

Delani now had means to memorize the Chant of Light. She knew that there were probably easier ways to go about getting her hands on a copy of the sacred text. The library, for one, was probably overflowing with books identical to the one she was currently holding. But going to Mother Giselle had seemed the right, while simultaneously being the most awkward, way to go about it. What better way to learn about religion than by a religious leader?

Tucking the tome under her arm, Delani decided to swing by Cullen's office before attempting to memorize the verses of a faith that had played such a large role in taking away what little the Dalish had of their history. She banished that train of thought with a shake of her head. Her people were so quick to anger at the mention of all that they'd lost. Delani knew that righting those wrongs could not be done by perpetuating hate. The Chantry had its purpose, but now so did she. With time she would find a way to make things better for her people, and as the Herald of Andraste the Chantry would be forced to accept whatever changes she might bring.

With another shake of her head, she dismissed her wandering thoughts and climbed the stairs to the battlements. After a long day of paperwork Delani was desperate for Cullen's company. She hoped that he would welcome the distraction like he usually did.

Things were a little strange now that their relationship had become sexual in nature. Did Delani give him more space now that she knew how many freckles he had on his back? Or did she give him less, since he'd seen her spread eagle before him? Perhaps things would just carry on naturally and comfortably, which was Delani's hope. If they continued to be transparent and honest with each other it would help prevent any unnecessary awkwardness between them.

As she approached Cullen's office, she realized how strange it would be to see her carrying around and Andrastian text. He knew that her faith was not in the Maker, if he saw her with the Chant it would ruin her surprise. Delani stopped a soldier as he strolled past and handed him the book. With instructions for the lad to return the tome to her chambers, Delani shooed the soldier off and closed the distance remaining between her and the door to Cullen's office.

She pulled the door open only to find Cullen standing behind his desk, leaning his weight on it as he glared at a small wooden box open before him. He didn't look up at to see who had entered his office, didn't pry his gaze from that rectangular box to acknowledge her arrival. His shoulders were tense, his body was rigid. Something had happened since their wonderful morning together. Something was troubling him.

"Cullen?" her voice was soft as she announced her presence, cautious as she approached his desk. Eyeing the man carefully, she searched him for any outward signs of injury. He was a bit pale but, aside from that, he looked fine. "Is everything alright?"

He was silent for a moment before his features hardened with determination. Cullen's voice was professional when he spoke to her, he was the Commander now, and she was the Inquisitor, and Delani's heart fell into her stomach at the sound of it. As much as she wanted to know what this was about, a part of her was afraid that he was about to say something that she wouldn't like.

Amber eyes looked up from the shaving kit to meet her gaze. There was a vulnerability in his golden irises that was quickly pushed back behind a wall of militant safeguards. "As leader of the Inquisition you—" he faltered, pushing himself up off of his desk and standing with his hands on the pommel of his sword. Cullen carefully searched her features, and his mask slipped only a bit, the vulnerability and uncertainty back in his features.

Cullen sighed. His tone was beseeching when he said, "There's something I must tell you."

Her eyes narrowed as her heart beat accelerated. Suddenly Delani wasn't standing in front of the man she lo— cared for immensely, anxiety had triggered her hunter instincts and now she was awaiting an attack. Not a physical attack from Cullen, but undoubtedly an emotional one; which was considerably worse, more often than not. The look in his eyes made her wary, and his tone made her nervous. She wasn't sure that she wanted to hear what would come next, but something in his gaze kept her from fleeing.

"What is this about, Cullen?" she asked, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a thin line.

There was a tick in his jaw as he regarded her. His nostrils flared as a resolute sigh expelled from him. "Lyrium grants Templars our abilities, but it controls us as well. Those cut off suffer." He held her gaze as his words rang with more than just truth, they rang with experience of the personal variety.

Brows still furrowed, Delani listened to him without interrupting. Though this was not the topic conversation she had guessed they would have, it was better than what she had anticipated would have transpired; which was him wanting to end things between them. Still a weight hung over her, an axe threatening to decapitate her resolve. This topic of lyrium and Templars was obviously weighing heavily on Cullen's mind, and Delani wanted to know why.

Unaware of how anxious his behavior was making her, Cullen continued with his explanation. "Some go mad, other's die. We have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the Templars here." His gaze broke from her, uncertainty tightened his features. Clamping his eyes tightly shut, Cullen admitted, "But I no longer take it."

Breath catching in her throat, Delani carefully regarded Cullen one more time. He looked to be doing well enough, but again she noticed how pale he was. Was he experiencing withdraws? Was he suffering? Madness and death did not seem like promising results for him to contend with.

Hands rolling up into fists at her sides, Delani tried to keep a neutral tone as she asked, "How long ago did you stop?" How long had he been suffering?

Cullen's gaze was on the shaving kit again, where he had used to keep his lyrium, she assumed. "When I joined the Inquisition. It's been months now."

Her stomach turned. Months? He had been off of lyrium for months and this was the first time she was hearing about it? Anger started to eclipse her concern for him. Cullen had been hurting all this time without her even knowing it. How many times had he been in her company, smiling to mask the pain? How often did he hide his suffering from her?

Quick and ragged breaths started to wheeze in and out of her. Delani had thought that they'd agreed to be open and honest with each other at the beginning of their relationship. She had thought that they'd agreed to communicate with each other. Instead Cullen had hidden this from her. He had kept his decision to not take lyrium, and the consequences of that decision, from her. She swallowed hard, trying to fight her anger back down, but it was a losing battle. Delani felt lied to, she felt like he didn't trust her. Delani felt worthless.

When she asked, "Why am I only just hearing about this?" it was with more bite than she intended.

"I meant to tell you sooner but it never came up," was his lame explanation, words catching like kindling in the fire of Delani's anger. Unaware of how upset she was, he continued, "After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn't. I will not be bound to the Order, or that life, any longer. Whatever the suffering, I accept it."

Oh, how good for him, accepting his suffering. For the first time Delani was infuriated by a trait of his that she had always adored: his nobility. Cullen would suffer, had suffered, gladly if it meant breaking the ties to a life he no longer counted himself a part of. Delani knew that she should be voicing her support, offering her encouragement, but she was too infuriated to feel anything else. Months. It had been months. Their relationship, young as it was, had been going on for some time already, and yet this was the first she was hearing of it.

If he didn't trust her as his lover, then he should have at least told her as the Commander to the Inquisitor. But Delani hadn't even gotten that. Cullen didn't trust her as his lover and he didn't trust her as his superior. Cullen didn't trust her, and it was a devastating realization.

He carried on over her thoughts. "I would not put the Inquisition at risk. I've asked Cassandra to watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised I will be relieved from duty."

Her stomach rolled again with this new revelation. He had a plan in place, of course he did. And nowhere in that plan was she in play. He would suffer without Delani's help. That had always been the plan, and the plan hadn't changed. Delani knew this was bigger than her hurt feelings, but she couldn't see past them. Her anger at Cullen was greater than her sympathy, louder than her concern.

Exhaling through her nose, Delani repeated her earlier question. "Why am I only hearing about this now?"

Cullen's brows furrowed at her biting tone. Carefully, he supplied, "The discussion and arrangement were made prior to your arrival." His expression turned pleading, begging her to understand. "The matter was being managed, there was no reason to worry you with it."

His words were like a slap to the face and Delani felt the sting of tears prick the backs for her eyes. They evaporated under the heat of her anger. Lip curling into a snarl, she challenged, "You mean other than the fact that I have shared everything with you? I was not aware that baring my body to you was insufficient cause for me to worry about you. I did not know that sharing part of my soul with you," she gestured to her carving knife hanging from his belt, "did not make me important enough to know about this sooner."

Finally realizing how his actions were affecting her, Cullen tried to reason with her. "Delani—" only for her to cut him off.

"I've told you everything. I've shared everything with you." The tears were finally stronger than her anger and they started to blur her vision. "I've shared my fears, my past, I told you about my greatest failure. I gave you the one treasure I have. I've given you my body and I've bared my soul to you. I've trusted you blindly and you—" she blinked, trying to banish the tears from her sight but instead she sent them rolling down her cheeks. Quickly wiping her tears from her face, she quietly finished, "You don't trust me at all."

His mouth fell open with shock before he snapped it back shut. Cullen's features were pained as he looked at her, apologetic. Starting for her, he rounded the desk and said, "Of course I trust you."

Leaping a retreating step back, Delani pointed a finger at him in warning, pinning him in place. "No you don't," she spat back, taking his argument otherwise as an insult to her intelligence. Eyes sharp like knives she said, "You don't trust me as your lover, and you don't trust me as your leader."

"Delani—"

"If you trusted me you would have told me," she growled before he could try to rationalize his actions. "You would have wanted me to be a part of this decision. But you don't. You don't trust me to have your back on this. You don't trust me to support you. You don't trust that I will properly prioritize your needs, your desires, or your place in the Inquisition."

With narrowed eyes, she ground out, "You don't trust me," and allowed the fresh fall of tears to stream down her cheeks uninterrupted.

Cullen shook his head, looking desperate to approach her but not wanting to provoke her further. Breathlessly, he admitted, "I should have told you sooner."

"Yes," she irritably agreed. "You should have. I've been Inquisitor longer than I've been your plaything, and I should have known that my general could potentially die or lose his mind."

He flinched from her words as though they had caused him physical pain. Amber eyes searched her face for something he wouldn't find. "You are not a plaything, Delani," he insisted, fighting for ground she would not give.

Scoffing, she argued, "What else would I be?" She jumped another step back when he took another step toward her. "You obviously don't consider me your equal, nor do you respect me as your superior. So where does that leave me? In your bed, but not your thoughts."

"Delani, it's not—"

"It is," she threw back, not caring that she didn't know what he was going to say. "I am not important enough to know this about you. I am not important enough to share your pain and your struggles with. You don't trust me and it is because I am not important enough to you." Her chest was heaving as her fury gave way to hysteria. This secret had hurt her more than she could have ever dreamed possible, and she could not let him see her like this.

When Cullen made a move to close the distance between them, Delani fled. She threw open the door to his office and ran faster than if Cullen had been the dread wolf himself. The mountain air was cold on her wet cheeks, nipping angrily at her skin as though scolding her for her weakness. Delani wiped the moisture from her face as she ran, not caring for the attention she was drawing. Her running feet didn't stop until she threw open a gate, slammed it shut, and leaned her weight against it.

Delani was immediately greeted by a wet nose. Cornelius sniffed her face before rolling out his tongue and dragging it over her salted cheeks. Though disgusting and slimy, the red hart's affectionate greeting was a much needed comfort.

She let him lick her cheeks one more time before gently pushing his muzzle away from her face. The disagreeing noise he made managed to pull a laugh out of her and Delani stroked the side of his face up to his soft ear. Patting the side of Cornelius's neck, she wondered, "You're not hiding anything from me. Are you, Cornelius?"

When he shook himself out, Delani smiled and went to grab a brush from the wall of his stable. "I didn't think so."

She went about brushing Cornelius, allowing her anger to fully disappear. Though she was still angry at Cullen for not telling her about the lyrium sooner, she was now able to think about how that decision was affecting him. Cullen wanted to move on from his past, from the man he had been before the Inquisition, and he was willing to go mad or die to do it. This was not a decision that he had made lightly. It was a decision whose consequences he suffered on a daily basis. Cullen wanted to give everything to the Inquisition.

Cornelius munched from his feeder as Delani brushed him down, happy to be pampered as she worked out her thoughts and emotions. How often had he found himself on the receiving end of her frustration? Too many times to count, though it didn't seem like the hart minded all that much.

Running the brush over his coarse fur, Delani released the last of her anger with a sigh. She was calm enough now to recognize that she had overreacted to Cullen's revelation, and that some of what she had said to him had been unfair. After she was done with Cornelius she would go to Cullen and they would talk properly.

Though she wouldn't have to, because the Commander had sought her out first. Cornelius exhaled indignantly, pulling Delani's attention from the hart and onto the man standing just outside of the stall. There was a pleading look on Cullen's face as he held her gaze, an apology already present in his golden eyes.

"Delani," his voice was tentative, careful not to spook her or set her off. "I understand that you are angry with me, but I'd like a chance to explain myself."

Sighing, Delani moved her gaze back onto Cornelius before she nodded once and returned the brush to its place on the wall. She patted the hart on the neck one last time before leaving his stall and standing in front of Cullen. Examining the regret in his handsome features, Delani admitted with another sigh, "I need to apologize to you first."

A surprised expression lifted Cullen's features and she nodded that he had heard her right. "I made your admission about me. I took insult to being the last one to know and let my feelings get hurt by a decision that had nothing to do with me." Holding Cullen's gaze so that he could see the sincerity in her eyes, hear it in her voice, she finished, "I'm sorry for how poorly and harshly I reacted."

Cullen shook his head incredulously, as though he couldn't quite believe that she would admit to her own shortcomings. Cupping Delani's face in his hands, he stared down at her and breathlessly replied, "I am the one who needs to apologize. I should have told you sooner. I should have told you the moment you became Inquisitor, but my own fears and weakness kept the words inside." Thumbing over her cheekbones, he continued to stare down at her, regret still clear in his eyes.

He shook his head with shame and his lips twisted as he considered how best to explain himself. "I was afraid that you would think less of me, that you would think me a fool for needlessly subjecting myself to withdrawal. I was afraid that you would disagree with my decision, because I will not be able to do this without your support."

Her heart broke for him. She had lashed out so terribly against him when he needed her support above all else, not her ire. "Oh, Cullen," she breathed, wrapping her hands around his bracer covered wrists. "I do support you. I think that what you are doing is incredibly brave, and I respect your decision."

His expression softened and he let out a breath of relief. "Thank you, Delani," he whispered before pressing his forehead to hers. Delani closed her eyes to enjoy his warmth but before she could he pulled away again. A serious expression had taken shape on his face as he regarded her. Before she could ask what had caused his sudden change, he explained it to her.

"You are not a plaything to me, Delani." His voice was serious, unbending, leaving no room for doubt. "I trust you with my life. The mistake of not sharing my withdrawal with you was made out of fear and will not be made again. You were right to be angry with me. You've trusted me with every aspect of your life, while I kept a piece of me hidden from you. But that was not because I don't trust you or care about you. It is because there are some parts of me that are not ready to be shared yet. I ask that you be patient with me, and that you try to understand."

Delani moved her hands from his wrists to the front of his cloak and nodded that he had both her patience and understanding. "I do understand, vhenan'ara." She would wait as long as it took to know this man completely, even the darkest parts that he couldn't yet bear to share. Delani would be patient because he was worth the wait.

A small smile tugged at the edges of his mouth, and Cullen said, "Good, because you are the most important person in my life, and I will not be able to persevere without you. I… care about you, Delani, more than you can possibly know."

Pursing her lips, she dared to argue, "I'm sure I have an idea."

He huffed in amusement before crushing his lips against hers, stealing the breath straight from her lungs. The kiss was apologetic, it was forgiving, it was all-consuming. Delani hummed happily against his mouth, allowing herself to be pulled in by his heat. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her body against his and felt a match light up in her belly. Unfortunately, Cullen pulled away before that match could set her insides ablaze with desire, and Delani bit back her protesting whine.

Cullen placed a kiss on the tip of her nose before releasing her from his hold. When Delani asked, "Are you up for a drink at the tavern?" it was to be met with disappointment.

He shook his head. "I have to go check on something." Unable to resist her pleading pout, a grin expanded over his lips and he acquiesced. "Order me a drink and save me a seat. I'll meet you there once I'm done."

Returning his grin with a victorious one of her own, Delani assured him, "I'll be waiting," before pressing another quick kiss to his lips and leaving him behind in the stables. First Delani was going to get Cullen nice and drunk, and then she was going to seduce him into her bed. She had to show him how sorry she was, after all.

---

Cullen entered the rotunda hoping that he would find Solas at his desk and not in the middle of a magical debate with Dorian. Much to his relief, the apostate was in the atrium, painting on its walls with the rookery's cawing giving music to his work. Cullen bit back his nerves and embarrassment as he approached the elf.

"Solas," he said, pulling the other man's attention from his task. When blue eyes met amber, Cullen explained his purpose. "I was hoping to speak with you."

Solas turned from his task to face Cullen completely. Eyebrow arched with curiosity, he wondered, "What can I do for you, Commander?"

Throwing a glance up at the library's bannister, Cullen made sure that Dorian wasn't snooping before he took a step closer to Solas and softly wondered, "How do I say 'I love you' in Elvish?"