Cullen came to consciousness quickly, old soldiering habits strong. He never lingered in that haze between the Fade and the waking world, even when waking naturally.
Cat's warm fingers twitched against his stomach. He cracked an eye open, the sun filtering through the Serrault glass window higher than he would have expected. Apparently the trick to getting more than four hours of sleep was to let a beautiful woman exhaust you.
Cullen sat up and dragged a hand through the chaos of his hair. He took a deep breath of chilled air; the fire had gone out sometime after their enjoyable interlude. Cat had acted as his personal furnace, keeping back the worst of the cold, but her warmth hadn't been enough; his body ached with withdrawal.
He leaned down and brushed dark strands of hair away from Cat's drooling mouth, tucking them behind her ear. His fingers were steady as he traced her vallaslin. Last night, it had been out of a desperate need for reassurance: she was real. But in the morning light, his touch was softer now — stable — certain of her.
"Cat," he murmured. "We should get up." He ran a hand down her arm, skin rough from the faded spider bite scars. "Cat..." He kissed her brow. "Caitlin..." He finally resorted to shaking her. How had he even managed to wake her last night? She slept like the dead. "We should get up."
She groaned into her pillow. "Don't want to."
Cullen chuckled. "You did ask me to wake you." He traced his fingers down her spine.
A muffled 'no' came from Cat's pillow. "You're making that up," she mumbled.
He rolled his eyes. "I assure you, I'm not. It's already mid-morning."
Caitlin rolled onto her side with a disgusted groan that would have made Cassandra proud. She glared at him through heavy eyes — although she may have just been looking at him normally. It was difficult to tell when she was half awake.
She rubbed the sleep away and yawned. "Why did I agree to this whole Inquisitor bit again?"
Cullen leaned up on his forearm as he watched her. "Because you didn't want to see the world end?"
She waved a finger in his direction. "Mmm, yeah, that." She sat up properly and began to stretch, audibly cracking her neck. "What are you going to be up to while I'm gone?"
"I expect the men investigating that Red Templar lieutenant to report in today," he said, enjoying his view as she stretched. Cat was pale, but her muscle tone and natural athleticism spoke of a life spent outdoors, rather than trapped in a Circle. "I want to head into the valley to train with the troops if I get the chance, but mostly I'll be looking over the papers you brought back."
"Fun," she said sarcastically. The notes and scraps she collected were usually just garbage — pages ripped from Brother Genitivi's book, personal letters filled with frivolous gossip — yet all the advisors rifled through them, searching for the rare bit of actionable intel.
"Any plans out in Emprise?" he asked. "Or just following up on the notes about Samson?"
"Mostly following up." She'd moved on to the joints in her spine. "We have a camp set up near Sahrnia. Beyond the hints that Samson has dealings out there, a few of Fairbanks' people mentioned that the Red Templars had intended to ship them out there. I don't want the Red Templars to have a foothold at the base of the Frostbacks. Plus—" she cut herself off short, looking away so casually it was anything but casual.
His eyes narrowed. "Plus...?"
She waved the question away with a full, charming grin. "It's nothing."
He frowned, trying to remember what else he'd seen in the reports about Emprise du Lion. Something more than her pursuit of the Red Templars' leader. What would she even try to hide—
She wouldn't.
His mouth fell open in disbelief. "This doesn't have to do with the sightings of three different dragons does it?" She stilled and looked down, chewing her lip. He rolled onto his back and dragged a hand through his hair. "Maker's breath."
She sat up straight and took his free hand between hers. "I'm just curious…" she insisted.
When he replied, it was through gritted teeth. "Curiosity is how you get yourself set on fire." He turned over to face her. "I thought the first dragon would have taught you that. Or the second one. Or the one in Crestwood. Or —"
"Cassandra will be with me to keep me out of trouble," she interrupted.
Cullen's eyes narrowed further. "And Bull will be there to make sure you find some."
"Nope," she replied, popping the 'p' loudly. "He wanted to stay behind to run some drills with the Chargers. Vivienne and Cole will be with us." She put his hands down and resumed her stretching.
"As if you won't be requesting Bull's presence in a few days."
She rolled her eyes and sighed, "I swear that I'm not actually going to hunt the dragons. We're just clearing the area of any Red Templars…" Cullen almost began to relax, until— "It's much harder to enjoy a dragon hunt with a behemoth breathing down your neck," she added sagely.
He groaned and muttered, "Only you and Bull could have standards for a dragon hunt." Cat's eyes grew unnaturally large, peering up at him through dark, long lashes. She gently chewed on her lower lip, her face the picture of sweetness.
Cullen sighed. "Drop the act. It's not like I can or will stop you from going, but you can't expect me to like it."
Caitlin sighed and batted her eyes dramatically. "Yes, but you still love me."
"Of course, I do." He was being more sombre than her silly flirtation warranted, but after the dream from the night before…
Her expression softened from comical innocence into genuine concern. "It will be alright, Cullen. It's just a simple survey of the area."
"With Red Templars involved, nothing is ever simple." He lifted his hand and lightly rubbed his thumb over her cheek.
"Besides, if and when I take on these dragons, I'll be sure to have a giant Qunari shield to take any fire breath for me, while I stand far, far away, shooting them with lightning." Cullen heard her muttering "Stupid fire resistant things…" under her breath.
He didn't reply or even crack a smile at her silliness.
Her eyebrows drew together with worry. "You're not really upset with me, are you?" She ran a hand through his hair.
"Of course not," he quickly reassured her. "It's just — the dangers you face — there is nothing I can do. I have to let you go." Her lips were pressed into a thin frown, and he felt her jaw clench under his thumb. "I have to send you into danger. So let me worry over you when I can." He leaned forward and pulled her face close, their noses gentling bumping together as they nuzzled. His hand moved to her lower back, gently kneading the knots that never truly went away.
"I'd happily be done with this war, if I could," she said quietly. "Or I would take you with me, if your duties would allow it."
"I know." He finally sighed in resignation, leaning back to look her in the eye. "It's fine. I'll just stay here fretting about you until you return to me on a white stallion, victorious in battle."
She smirked and cocked her head. "So you're the fainting princess then? Waiting in her tower for her knight to come rescue her?"
"Or something," he said tartly.
She scoffed. "I'm not the one who made the comparison. You started this." A pinch to her arse was his reply.
"So that's how it is!" She shoved him back into the mattress and leaned in. She hovered near his lips, not quite kissing him, staying just out of his reach.
He put a hand on the back of her head to finally kiss her when the bedroom door slammed open. They scrambled for the blankets in an attempt at modesty as boots thudded up the stairs.
Sera marched in. "Are you leaving today or what?" she asked bluntly. "Vivvy's getting her knickers all in a twist — going on about 'punchuality' or some shite. I'd say the same for Cass, but we know she doesn't wear any." A grating giggle burst out of the girl.
Cullen groaned in frustration. He'd been worried that they had come under attack from an invading force — the only reasonable explanation for barging into the Inquisitor's private chambers.
He supposed that Sera was an invading force in her own right.
"Sera," Cat sighed, "the door was locked."
Cullen closed his eyes tight, begging for this to all just be a dream. His entire face was flaming hot.
Sera sounded unperturbed. "Thought you meant it as a challenge. I did give you warning."
Instead of rebuking her, Cat simply ordered, "Out."
"Yeah, yeah." Cullen could hear her boots stomping away.
He opened his eyes and looked at Cat, who gave him a wry smile. "Well, she did give us a warning. She could have just walked in without us realizing it."
"That's because I'm fucking polite!" Sera yelled back from the hall. She hadn't even bothered to shut the door.
With a great put upon sigh, Cat finally swung her legs out of bed and stood up. When she started digging through the closet for her gear, he followed suit, retrieving his own clothes from the trunk he kept in Cat's quarters.
After finding fresh clothes for the day, he stood up and looked over, just in time to see Caitlin slip his coin into her breast band.
When she caught him staring, she gave him a wink and a grin. "For luck, right?"
"Right," he replied, returning her smile.
His gaze lingered, watching as she pulled up her leather breeches, before returning to his own clothing and armor.
They helped each other get ready — fastening hard to reach straps, taming wild hair, stealing kisses at every opportunity. Their eyes, fingers, and lips lingered, savoring every moment before they had to slip on the indifferent masks of command.
After securing their weapons and one final kiss, they made their way to the Great Hall.
Cassandra and Vivienne were seated at a table near the dais, a healthy distance from the ever-present swarm of nobles crowding the rest of the hall. At the opposite end of the table, Varric was writing as Cole read — quite literally — over his shoulder. The spirit was perched, bird-like, his giant hat covering both of their heads.
Just past Varric's workstation Sera was yelling, "Hey! Hey, Vivvy! Viv! Look here, Viv!" Cullen made the mistake of glancing over to find Sera standing on a chair, waving her arse in the air.
Cullen instantly looked away. "Maker, how do you put up with her?" he sputtered.
"What? Don't like what you see, then? Not as nice as Miss Ladybits'?"
Vivienne replied without sparing Sera a glance. "While I cannot speak for the Commander, I'm certain that anyone else's bottom would be preferable to yours."
"Oh, you're checking out Inky's butt! You hear that? Vivvy likes your butt!" Sera shouted in singsong for everyone to hear.
Caitlin raised her arm like she was about to call forth a fireball; Cullen caught her wrist and lowered it. "Not worth it," he insisted.
She glared at Sera, who was still mocking Vivienne. "I'm not so sure about that…"
"I'm sorry I released the hound on you, darling," Madame de Fer said, by way of greeting, "but after the last hour of this, I thought it better you than me. Fashionably late has a time and place."
"I hadn't set an actual time," Caitlin protested. "You could have all gone about your business and I would have come and collected you."
"You had said that we would leave in the morning," Cassandra reminded. "It is nearly midday."
"Maker's breath, is it really that late?" With the mountain of paperwork that awaited him, it was doubtful Cullen would make it into the valley that day.
Cassandra gave him a discerning smile. "Our Inquisitor seems to be a bad influence."
"Or a good influence," Varric chimed in without looking up, "depending on who you asked."
Caitlin signaled a page. The girl scurried over, eager to help the Herald of Andraste.
"Can you have our mounts brought out?" Caitlin asked.
"Yes, ma'am!" The page ran off.
Caitlin reached for Cullen's hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "I need to check in with Dorian before I go." She headed toward the library, leaving him with Vivienne and Cassandra.
"My dear Commander," Madame Vivienne called.
"Yes, First Enchanter?" He fought the urge to stand at attention.
It wasn't that he disliked the mage; far from it. He respected her a great deal, and she had been one of the few mages in the Inquisition to not question his position. After the mess in Kirkwall, it was nice not being instantly distrusted by a Circle mage; to be something more than just a templar.
However, Vivienne was a great lover of the Game. He always felt like she was saying two thing at once, no matter to whom she was speaking. Even cleaning up Meredith's mess had not prepared him for Orlesian politics.
It didn't help that she also made him feel like a fresh recruit.
"I need to speak with you about one of your men."
He frowned and placed a hand on his pommel. "Have any of them been disrespectful toward you?" He had strict rules about how his soldiers treated the mages, and they knew it.
"Aren't you charming!" she chucked warmly. "But no, nothing of the sort. It's just that one gentleman, with a particularly blank look to his face…" When he couldn't supply a name from her description, she added "Blue eyes, babyfaced…he seems to be your attendant or something."
"Ser James?" he suggested.
"Yes, him..."
Cullen should have known; the man was a menace. He was eager— a little too eager— and he was constantly causing chaos. He pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending headache this would cause. "Maker's breath, what now?"
"I just ask that if you send him to me again, make sure that you stress the importance of leaving a mage's desk alone. He had a rather nasty encounter with some herbs of mine."
That would explain the itching that Ser James complained about last week.
"I will see that he and all my men are sufficiently warned," he assured her.
"Why was he even near your desk?" Cassandra asked.
"I was out on the balcony and the poor dear didn't wish to disturb me." Cullen swallowed — he could feel his neck growing hot. He was fairly certain he knew why Ser James had wished to avoid disturbing Vivienne. Not after the stare down he'd gotten when he had interrupted Cullen's first attempt to kiss Caitlin.
"Commander, you really should stop rubbing your neck like that. It is most unbecoming."
Cullen immediately lowered his arm. "Yes, First Enchanter."
She lowered her voice so none of the courtiers could hear. "That does remind me, Commander…" The calculated lead-in made it seem like Vivienne hadn't been just reminded at all.
He actually did stand at attention then. "Yes, First Enchanter?"
"A relationship with a mage?" she lamented, shaking her head. "I hope you realize that you've confirmed every trite romantic cliché any apprentice has ever dreamt up about a templar."
"Ma'am?" How was that a reminder? How in Thedas had they even get on to this topic?
She let out a pitiful sigh. "You couldn't have at least attempted to be discreet?"
Hadn't they been? Granted, walking out of her chambers in the morning wasn't exactly sneaking around, but it's not as if he was throwing her onto the War Table and taking her right in the middle of a meeting.
Maker's breath, that was an image.
He gripped his pommel tighter and managed to squeak out, "Y-yes, First Enchanter."
"Oh, I'm not implying that you're some kind of dirty secret," she said sotto voce. "In fact, you're probably the best option currently present for our dear Lady Lavellan. But why couldn't you have thought about the precedent that would set for future mage/templar relations?"
"I…apologize?" His face was definitely burning. He didn't rub his neck after Vivienne's previous warning, but he fidgeted with the temptation.
She waved toward the dwarf at the end of the table. "And Varric is certain to include it in one of his vulgar little books."
"Absolutely," intoned Varric without stopping his scribbling. Cullen shot him a nasty look.
"Quit teasing the man," snapped Cassandra.
"Oh, but I've been trying to find some fabric in precisely that shade of red!" she laughed. "I wanted a clear image of it next time I went into Val Royeaux."
What? Upon closer inspection, he could see the amusement in the First Enchanter's eyes. Evil woman.
"What she means to say is that we are happy for the both of you." Cassandra's emphasis on the word dared anyone to contradict her. "It's nice that you both have found something good in this war. It is like something from a fairy tale; hold onto it."
"Yes, yes, that is all well and good." Vivienne waved her hand, dismissing the foregone conclusion. "But really, Commander, you should have thought about all the work your little romance would create for me once the Circles are restored."
He was spared trying to form a reply when both Caitlin and the page returned. She gave them a bright smile. "Shall we?"
Cassandra and Vivienne stood and followed the Inquisitor toward the door.
"Bye bye, Vivvy!" Sera said snidely. Vivienne didn't even break her stride.
Cole hopped down from his post behind the dwarf and joined the group. "So many stories floating in his head, yet he can always keep them in straight lines on the paper."
"Cassandra," Varric called. "I'll have some new pages for you to look over when you get back. You see, I think the Guard Captain—"
She sliced her hand through the air, cutting him off. "Don't tell me. Wait until I return."
"Oh, but I want to read it!" Caitlin whined.
"Not until we get back," Cassandra insisted, with a firm tug on the Inquisitor's arm.
"Suit yourself!" He nodded to Caitlin. "Safe travels, Inquisitor."
Vivienne's mare and Cole's pony were already at the gate, the stable boy running to fetch the remaining two.
The spirit walked up to his dappled pony and looked her in the eyes, rubbing a pale hand down her face. "You like it when you're helpful. I like helping too. Though I don't like straw. It pokes me."
No one acknowledged the strange boy's comment, beyond an irritated eye-roll from Vivienne as she swung herself onto her own horse.
Cullen took Caitlin aside before her own mount arrived, allowing himself a reassuring squeeze of her velvet clad shoulder. "Take care of yourself out there."
"I'll be fine," she assured him. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed in for chaste kiss. As soon as the stable boy walked up with her mount, he pulled away.
"See, I ride a hart!" she declared, lifting herself into the saddle. "No shining white horses in sight. I'm not a very good knight after all."
He chuckled as he held the reins for her. "As long as it isn't one of those ridiculous nugs."
"I like the nugs!" she protested.
"Of course, Inquisitor." He rubbed the stag's nose as Caitlin settled herself. "Don't set any of your companions on fire."
"Not even if they deserve it?"
He handed her the reins. "It would begin to affect morale."
Cullen gave her a quick salute, and she nudged her stag into a trot. As she rode past the gates, Cullen climbed the ramparts, watching her trek down the bridge and away from Skyhold
Three dragons! She's excited about three dragons. Maker's Breath, I love a mad woman…
He chuckled quietly to himself, and made his way to his office and the work that awaited him.
With the Inquisitor not yet committed to the campaign in the Arbor Wilds, there was nothing of interest; only so much could be planned without sending troops.
Unfortunately, that didn't mean he had copious amounts of free time available.
He just had paperwork. Piles and piles of paperwork.
Requisitions. Disciplinary issues. Ration distributions. Staff assignments. Staff reassignments. Staffing requests. Discharge papers. Recruitment papers. Budget reports. So many budget reports. Inventory. Purchase orders. Work orders. Duty rosters. Updates to regulations. Dispatches. The thousands of little requests that were made, even if they might be beneath the Inquisition. And, of course, all the paperwork that spawned from those requests.
He had seen less action as Commander of the Inquisition than during a typical week of glorified guard duty in the Circle.
After clearing out some of the the truly tedious work, Cullen found the Emerald Graves docket the Inquisitor had compiled.
Somewhere buried in the mess were the letters from Samson's smugglers, as well as orders from the Red Templar officer stationed in the Graves. He settled into his seat and picked up a quill to make his own notes. He'd barely had a chance to glance at the first page when his door swung open.
"Cullen, my friend, hard at work I see."
Cullen looked up to find Dorian carrying a small covered tray. "What can I do for you, Dorian?"
"I suspected as much…" Dorian huffed. He juggled the tray with one hand, picked up the stack of paperwork in front of Cullen, and threw it on top of different stack before placing his parcel down in the center of the desk.
"What are you doing?" Cullen objected.
Dorian threw himself into a chair, stretching out to take up as much room as he possibly could. "You've forgotten about our game, haven't you?"
"Oh, Maker." Cullen sighed and tossed the quill aside. "You're right, I have." The two had a standing game of chess whenever the Inquisitor was away from Skyhold. "I'm sorry. I've been in here most of the day, trying to catch up." He noticed then that the sky was awash in the orange glow of a setting sun.
"Yes, you must be simply buried in work! No doubt because our lovely Inquisitor refuses to let you work yourself to death and drags you off to bed at some point." Dorian quirked a sly grin. "Though perhaps not always to sleep, hmm?"
Cullen just grunted a noncommittal reply before picking up his quill again. He'd had enough teasing already. "I'm afraid I have to cancel for today. I really should get through some more of this." He waved at the stack of paper. Since Dorian had moved things around, he could no longer tell how much he had actually gotten done.
"No, that simply will not do." Dorian kicked Cullen's desk petulantly. "I'm bored. Take a break and have a match with me." He leaned forward and lifted the lid off of the tray. "I've even brought you food. I'm sure you haven't even eaten today." Dorian covered Cullen's inkwell with the tray lid before slouching back into the chair.
Cullen recognized the servingware from the Herald's Rest next to a sandwich and a bowl of stew. Before he could protest, his stomach gave out a treacherous growl. He hadn't realized it, but he was famished.
"Fine. I'll eat, but I really don't have time for a match today." He grabbed the the spoon and began to tuck in.
"Nonsense. You stood me up. The least you can do is entertain me," Dorian demanded.
"Keeping you entertained is not part of my duties, Dorian. I appreciate the meal, but afterwards I must get back to my work."
He had expected that to be the end of the conversation, but Dorian kept staring, tapping his foot impatiently. "Finish your food, and then we'll decide if you're taking a break or not."
"I don't know why you're so insistent. It's not the first time either of us has had to cancel."
Dorian shifted in his seat. "I'm just dreadfully bored, that's all. Besides, canceling is different than being left to wait." He sat up a little straighter.
"Just as you've abandoned me several times in the past. We hadn't even confirmed we were going to play today." It was then that Cullen remembered the Inquisitor's last minute errand, and he dropped his spoon into the soup with a splatter. "She put you up to this, didn't she."
Dorian sighed, resuming his nonchalant posture. "I'm that obvious? Alright, yes. Cat asked me to keep an eye on you."
Cullen sat back into his chair, crossing his arms. "For the love of… I don't need a nanny!"
"Says the man who had forgotten to eat until nearly evening."
Cullen picked up the spoon and returned to his soup. "It's not as if I was just wasting away. One busy day isn't cause to start mothering me."
Dorian fixed him with a pointed glare. "All Cat asked was to make sure you didn't work yourself too hard. I hadn't intended to be so pushy, but when no one had seen you leave your office or request any food, you left me no choice but to come hover over your shoulder."
Cullen's leather gloves creaked as he tightened his grip, trying not to get angry over well-meaning concern. "The Inquisitor was just worried because I woke her up late last night. But I'm fine, and I really should get back to work."
"There is no use trying to placate me now. This had just been just a favor for Caitlin, but you have now made it personal." Dorian turned his aquiline nose up in the air. "I've been slightly inconvenienced, so now I must return the favor."
Cullen snorted. "I figured you were above petty revenge."
"Clearly, you've never been to Minrathous." Dorian leaned forward and grabbed some notes from the stack. "I can't imagine any of this requires your immediate attention. Something important wouldn't be left to get mixed up with a—" He made a show of reading the paper in his hand. "—Templar Placement Sitrep."
Cullen grinned. "You made that up, Dorian. That's not a real thing."
Dorian looked over the paper. "Are you certain?"
Instead of arguing over Dorian's nonsense (because Cullen really wasn't certain), he changed the topic back to the task at hand. "There probably isn't anything dire in them, no" he agreed. "But some of this is more of a personal project." He took a sip from the mug of tepid water he kept on his desk.
Dorian gave a bemused grin. "Tsk-tsk, Commander. Using Inquisition resources for personal gain? I would have never thought you had it in you."
"Hardly. The Inquisitor has been investigating Corypheus' general for me." He let out a small breath. "I knew him once. Apparently there were some mentions of him in this, but I have yet to read them for myself."
Dorian leaned over and grabbed half of the sandwich he had brought for Cullen. "Think you'll find something that our spymaster or fearless leader missed?" After one bite, Dorian stuck out his tongue in disgust and threw the sandwich back onto the plate.
"It's not that I don't trust them," Cullen insisted as he reassembled it, "but I served the Order for the majority of my life. I'm more familiar with the nuances and inner workings. Sometimes the context escapes them." Cullen took a bite. It tasted fine to him.
"So you're worried that Cat won't understand what this Carroll chap is saying?"
Cullen's stomach churned. "Who was that?" Cullen asked through a mouth full of food.
"Carroll?" Dorian waved the pages in his hand. "That's the name here. Is that actually important?"
Cullen quickly swallowed and put the sandwich down. "Let me see that." He reached over his desk and snatched the documents from Dorian's hands.
There, on the bottom of one of the notes complaining about the Inquisition's success, was the signature. Knight-Captain Carroll.
"A friend of yours?" Dorian asked delicately, leaning forward.
Cullen pushed the tray aside in order to lay the letter down flat. "Yes. Well, it was a decade ago." His voice was low, subdued. "But yes, I knew him. Trained under him for a time, before the lyrium started to rot his mind."
"And he's now with the Red Templars." The mage looked at Cullen compassionately. "I am sorry, my friend. About this and about dropping a rather large revelation on you carelessly."
Cullen shook his head to clear away the haze that was starting to sink in. "Don't worry about it. You didn't know. Maker…" Cullen took the napkin from the tray, wiping his hands and mouth. "I've been looking for Carroll— worried about this happening. I should have thought about him sooner. Him and Samson."
He paused and took a large gulp of water, the food feeling stuck in his throat.
"How much of this happened because I wanted to cut ties to the Order so thoroughly?" Cullen breathed.
"None of that," Dorian admonished. "The corruption of the Templar order is no more your fault than the actions of a lunatic Magister are mine. This is Corypheus' doing."
"I can't say I entirely agree." Cullen quickly read through the small note again, shocked by the belittling tone. Carroll had been a rather gentle man, with an eccentric sense of humor. "Samson had no connection to Carroll. They never served with each other. But I had mentioned Carroll to Samson a few times, a warning against Samson's increasing lyrium addiction. I'm likely responsible for putting Carroll in Samson's path."
Dorian sat up and crossed his arms. "So you know every templar, then?"
Cullen looked at him confused, unsure of what Dorian was getting at. "No, of course not."
"But you have at least talked to every templar you have ever met about every other templar you have ever met?"
Cullen scoffed. "No, that's ridiculous."
Dorian uncrossed his arm in order to point at him. "Just about as ridiculous as thinking that the corruption of an entire order can be traced back to you."
Cullen rolled his eyes. "I'm not talking about the whole order, I'm talking about two people I personally knew."
"Yes, but how can you be sure that you are the reason Carroll is with the Red Templars? You cannot possibly be the only thread they had in common, whether through the templars or the Chantry as a whole. Why must all the blame rest on your shoulders?"
Cullen sighed and leaned back into his chair. "You're right," he agreed as Dorian's reasoning sank in. "There are a thousand possible explanations for this."
"You should just always assume I'm right. It would make our dealings so much easier for me." Dorian flicked away a nonexistent piece of lint from his sleeve. "But since you seem to have found something that is actually important, I shall leave you to it."
"Thank you, Dorian," Cullen said sincerely. "And thank you for the food."
"You're most welcome," Dorian said grandly as he stood. "But don't forget to eat tomorrow, or you'll see me once again. I am more afraid of Cat finding out that I let you work yourself to death than I am of you being slightly annoyed."
Cullen nodded with a bemused smile. "I'll keep that in mind."
After the door closed, Cullen got back to his work. He pored over the Emerald Graves notes, trying to find any useful information.
He could feel the previous night's headache creeping back, and rubbed his temples in hopes to help alleviate the pain.
What he wouldn't do for Cat to be there with her wonderfully warm hands.
He shook his head in censure. If he was already pining away like a lovesick fool in less than a day, maybe they hadn't been as discreet as he'd thought.
Cullen worked through his headache, and his dinner. His scouts returned just as night set in. They confirmed what he already knew: Carroll was leading the Red Templars in the Graves. He would be there for the next several weeks, trying to undo all of the Inquisition's work.
His stomach sank with the realization that he would have to send the Inquisitor to kill his old friend.
Cullen's headache only got worse throughout the night, and the candlelight was painfully sharp against his eyes. He stood and stretched, deciding that a break was in order.
He stepped out of his office, blinking back the fatigue. The first moon was out above the trees, large and full, reflecting off the snowdrifts blanketing Skyhold. Most of the windows were dark, even in the guest quarters. Since the Orlesian nobility didn't typically turn in early, it must have been later than he first thought.
Cullen walked the ramparts, surveying the keep by the day-bright moonlight. In the valley, he could see the fires of their camp, always burning, and sighed. Hopefully he could find the time to ride out to the barracks the next day.
As he approached the Herald's Rest, he saw Iron Bull leaning against a parapet. He often ran into the tavern residents on his patrols, in various states of sobriety.
Bull nodded in greeting. "Cullen."
"Anything interesting?"
"Nah, pretty quiet."
It was as if Maker himself had been waiting for the perfect cue. A large raven flew overhead, breaking the silence with an echoing caw.
"That didn't take long," Bull said.
"What didn't?"
"Oh, just the boss getting fed up with either Vivienne, or Cole, or both." Bull must have been able to see his confused expression in the moonlight. "Cole freaks Viv out and she can be a bit vicious when dealing with the kid; drives the boss nuts. The bird's letter had the Inquisitor's seal on it, so I'm betting it's a personnel change."
"Seems a bit late to be sending a request," Cullen mused aloud.
"Nah," Bull drawled. "This side of the mountains gets pretty windy. She probably sent it off this afternoon, and the bird got blown off course." He slapped a meaty hand across Cullen's shoulder that sent his jaw rattling. "Want to see who's getting sent back with their tail tucked in between their legs?" he asked, grinning.
"I..suppose?" Cullen couldn't understand why Bull was so excited.
"I bet it's Viv! Boss is more likely to replace her with Dorian or Solas than Cole with Sera since it'd be the same mess all over again. She'll leave Varric here because she wants him to finish his latest crappy romance novel."
Cullen rolled his eyes. "Likely."
"Viv is going to be so pissed about being sent home early!" Bull said gleefully.
"I thought you liked her?" Cullen asked as they jogged down the stairs.
"I do, but she also intimidates the crap out of me. I have to get my wins where I can."
"I know what you mean," he muttered.
Bull snickered. "She remind you of your Tamassran too? All horned and shit."
"Something like that," Cullen drolly replied.
When they began ascending the stairs to the Great Hall, Cullen could see that more torches were lit than there had been when he had first left his office. The higher they rose, the more people he could see. Messengers and several of Leliana's agents were rushing around, following whatever late night orders they had received.
"Something's wrong," he murmured, more to himself than to the man at his side.
He broke into a run, taking the remaining steps two at a time.
He barely missed the page that was seconds from crashing into him.
"Commander! I was just coming to get you. Sister Leliana needs you in the War Room. She needs all of the Inner Circle there," he said, glancing at Bull.
"What is it?" The young man jumped, and Cullen realized he must have snapped his question.
"There have been some problems for the Inquisitor's party. Reports of serious injuries. They're returning to Skyhold tonight."
Cullen gripped his sword and rushed off to the War Room.