Chapter inspired by: One Last Time - Amarante
Vaelyn sat in a chair at the front of the war table staring at the letter she laid there two hours ago. There was a forlorn air about her and a monstrous typhoon swirled in her eyes. It took every bit of mental strength she could afford not to flip the table over, not wreck the entirety of the room. She could handle the ridiculousness of the situation she'd ended up in, but this. This was too much.
She beat down the surging anger that threatened to ignite with in her, choking the roar of hatred that tried to crawl out of her throat. That vile piece of parchment just sat there mocking her, taunting her. Her hands swiftly picked it up, crumpled it into a ball and tossed it against the chamber wall.
She hadn't heard the large doors open nor did she see them open as she was facing away from the entrance, not noticing a guest silently joining her in the war room. A figure in her peripheral vision sauntered over to the abused parchment and snatched it up off there floor, trying to straighten it out. Vaelyn was already half out of her chair in an attempt to reclaim what was hers, but to her horror she discovered that it was Cullen who picked up her letter; she froze and her stomach painfully knotted up.
There was a long agonizing silence, it nearly shredded what little resolve Vaelyn had, then her anger flared up again recklessly. She steeled herself and stormed over to her military advisor, ripping the parchment from his grasp. Cullen flinched, taking a step back to examine the Inquisitor, her behavior was odd he noted.
She ignored the questioning gleam in his eye, turning away from Cullen. Vaelyn knew deep down that she was being impulsive, handling this situation completely wrong, endangering her budding relationship with the commander. Her face burned with embarrassment and fury, the words of apology stuck in her throat. Cullen spoke first.
"I should not have imposed, my lady." Cullen was unsure what more he could say to relieve the building tension. He blindly crossed a line that he did not know was present, and now she was livid.
"No, you should not have," she bit back automatically, defensively.
Cullen winced.
Before anymore words could be spoken, and before her emotions got completely out of hand, Vaelyn sprinted out of the war room; the doors slammed back into the walls, the sound resonating in the spacious hallway as she made her hasty exit. He remained, a pensive look hung upon his features as he stared at the open doors. Dejected, he slowly followed the same path out of the chamber, contemplating the hatred he felt reading that letter as he walked.
My dearest daughter,
It has come to my immediate attention that you are apart of that dreadful inquisition I've heard so
much about. Our family has always had strong ties to the Chantry here in Ostwick, and I was utterly
ashamed to find out from the Revered Mother herself that you, my eldest daughter was this heretical
Herald of Andraste people keep talking about. I will not allow this charade to continue, I demand that
you return home immediately and drop this disgraceful ploy. I will not allow my rebellious daughter to
continue sullying the Trevelyan name with Sacrilege. Mark my words child, I will not hesitate to
renounce you should you choose to defy my wishes.
With great disappointment,
Mother
Cullen sat at his cluttered desk, unable to concentrate on any of the reports that piled up. A couple of hours passed since the little ordeal in the war room, he wasn't able to focus at all; the backlog of reports and letters from just a few hours could attest to how busy he should have been.
He felt guilty.
When he went looking for the Inquisitor he wasn't intending to offend her so profusely, knowingly anyway. How could he have known that the letter contained such...such contempt? The reaction that Vaelyn had was disconcerting, and his heart sank for her. Surely the Inquisitor's mother wasn't serious? It must have been a ruse, he tried to assure himself. Even that lie he tried to force on himself couldn't calm the anxiety that spilled over him now. The growing relationship between himself and Vaelyn, though seemingly platonic, may have suffered a critical blow. How could he ever hope to fix this, he pondered that thought solemnly.
Cullen let out an exasperated sigh. He was the military commander for the Inquisition, he'd been a templar for many a year, fought all sorts of enemies. He was the Lion of Fereldan for fucks sake, yet how could he hope to stand against this threat to his feelings and his honor? Cullen was unsure how to go about approaching Vaelyn anyway.
Without hope and a plan. "Pathetic," he snorted bitterly.
When he looked down to try and focus on the report sitting under his quill, his brows furrowed deeply noticing that he scribbled all over the parchment. The stick figure sketch of him hanging by his neck on the gallows was an apt depiction of his attitude right now. He needed some fresh air and something to eat he concluded.
Cullen stood up, chair groaning as it was pushed away from the desk. He made his way out of his office and towards the tavern, opting out of having to deal with snobby nobles and talkative keep residents in the keep's main hall. The tavern was pretty tame most nights, it had many secluded areas where he could duck in and not be noticed. A fantastic idea in theory, but not in practice. When he got a chance to sit down and eat his meal and keep from drinking himself into a stupor, his hiding place was immediately invaded.
"What's up, Curly." Varric greeted, pulling out another chair at the table and plopping down into it.
Cullen shot the dwarven invader a pointed look, then chose to take another bite of his stew instead.
"Yeesh. One of those nights, eh?" The dwarf chuckled jovially. "I saw the Inquisitor storm out of the keep earlier. Nearly knocked a noble off the landing as she exited, it was quite the spectacle. You wouldn't know anything about that, would ya?"
"Why do you assume I had something to do with her hasty retreat?" Cullen retorted coolly towards the veiled accusation. Varric smirked knowingly, that infuriated Cullen.
"It was only a question, no need to get defensive."
There was a pregnant pause then. Varric had a way with people, they just spilled their guts to him. The dwarf was a bigger gossip monger than the soldiers and the women; Varric would deny it with the argument that he was merely a story teller. A weaver of the whimsical.
"I may have accidentally read a very personal and uh...angry letter addressed to the Lady Inquisitor, from her mother." Cullen confessed, his face screwed up in irritation and he cursed himself mentally for his weakness to seek aid on the matter; from the mischievous dwarf no less.
"Oh ho ho, is that all?" Varric snickered. "For a moment there I thought it was something worse, like walking in on her while she changed."
Cullen blushed a bit, if he'd done that, then the Inquisition would be in the market for a new military commander. Vaelyn had quite the temper after all, it was not an understatement.
"Her mother is threatening to disown her if she continues to affiliate herself with the Inquisition." He stated grimly.
Varric rubbed his chin for a moment, mulling over the fact. "I suppose that could be a problem, she is from a wealthy, chantry centric family after all. Having her daughter leading a group of supposed heretics would cause a conflict of interest, I'd imagine."
Before he could catch himself, Cullen spoke, "How do I fix this?" Maker's balls he sounded like a pathetic teenager.
"Talking to her would be a good start," Jokingly he added, "assuming she doesn't ring your neck first."
Cullen's face paled at the thought, Varric's statement wasn't far off from the truth, even said in jest.
Was it really that simple, just talking to her? Lately he felt himself stumbling more and more over his words when they talked privately. Cullen was unsure that he'd be able to smooth things over without unduly making things worse.
"I am not certain that would work." Cullen said quietly.
Varric scoffed, "You don't give yourself enough credit, Curly. It might not seem like it now, but she respects you." He spoke truthfully. "If you went to her, I'm absolutely positive she'd listen."
In the dwarf's words, the commander heard confidence. Out of all the Inquisitors companions, Varric was the most honest and grounded person. While he wouldn't readily admit it to people, Cullen actually appreciated the story teller's advice and opinions on certain matters every now and then.
"I don't suppose you know where she's hiding..." Cullen inquired.
"That's the spirit!" Varric exclaimed with approval. "I saw her sneak away to the western end of the battlements. As per usual."
Cullen picked up the bits of his courage, giving a curt nod to Varric, and strode out of the tavern to find Vaelyn. The remnants of his dinner and Varric were quickly forgotten.
"Go get the girl, Curly." Varric chuckled, shaking his head with mild amusement.
The sun finally settled in for the night, bright stars gleamed upon the velvety blanket of night. It was peaceful up here on the battlements during the evening, especially on this part of the wall. Very few guards patrolled it at night, preferring to keep watch over the area where the portcullis was. The wind was a bit nippy, but Vaelyn liked how it gently rushed by her as she contemplated life. She felt unhindered by the problems of the world, free from the weight of death and suffering. This night she did not feel any of those things.
Pitiful was the word that strongly stood out to her, and self-loathing was starting to make its appearance known.
"Maker's breath." Vaelyn sighed with defeat.
She'd blame her mother for the awful mood, Cullen was just collateral damage. It pained her every time she recounted the events of this afternoon, it was at least the tenth time she thought about it. Vaelyn always bore a fiery attitude, apparent right after exiting the womb. As she got older she'd become more stubborn and her temper was almost legendary back home. All those poor suitors; her rampage rivaled that of a high dragon.
Vaelyn was too lost in thought to notice that Cullen joined her out on her part of the wall.
He was nervous but it couldn't be helped, he was already here. "My lady..." Cullen cleared his throat and readdressed her "...Vaelyn."
She tensed up and a feeling of dread rolled over her, nearly consuming her. She fought the dark thoughts off and faced her greatest fear, silently praying to the Maker or whatever higher being that might have existed that Cullen would not abandon her.
"Commander," Vaelyn said breathlessly, staring into those impassioned amber eyes. His presence was entirely unexpected but not unwelcome.
Being addressed by his own title made Cullen flinch. It was impersonal for such privacy and his stomach flip flopped. "We... I need to...uhh...talk" he stammered awkwardly. Bollocks! Get a grip already. He scolded himself. "I wanted to apologize for intruding on you earlier, my Lady. I had no intentions of invading your privacy, I completely overstepped my boundaries..."
Vaelyn pursed her lips, she wanted to halt his rambling apology but found it to be rather adorable. At some point she needed to get a word in on this conversation though. Cullen could not take any of the blame here.
"I would not argue against a harsh reprimand should you see fit to do so." The Inquisitor held up a hand, stopping him there.
"You should not be the one to apologize, Cullen." She said softly, "I was the one who reacted poorly, over a stupid letter no less. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and for that I am very sorry."
"I should not have read that parchment, I am..." He tried to find another reason to apologize to her, but she would have none of it. Vaelyn took the few steps in front of her to clap a hand over his mouth adamantly.
"Please, none of this is your fault." She said sternly. "I don't want you taking any of this blame." She was whispering now and averting her eyes.
When her arm slackened just a bit, Cullen brought his own hand up to grasp hers, pulling it away from his mouth so he could speak. "That letter," he began, still holding on to her hand, unconsciously blocking her escape. "Your mother wasn't serious, was she?" He ask incredulously.
Her eyes snapped back to his, Cullen was confronting her with that stare. The same gaze he used when looking at the world map in the war room just before a battle. With a clenched jaw she hissed "True. Every bloody word of it."
The emotional dam that Vaelyn built up over the years began to bend and heave, micro fractures becoming serious cracks. She did not want Cullen to see how awful her life really was, what a disappointment she was to her family, to mother. Her eyes began to water rebelliously and she tilted her chin downward; her dark tresses falling into her face, hiding her sorrow.
Cullen's heart wrenched as he witnessed the Inquisitor's mask break for the first time since meeting her. Watching those tears form at the corner of her eyes after making such a deep admittance was heart breaking. This was not the way he had expected their conversation to go, she was suppose to be mad at him; hate him even.
Without thinking about it, Cullen stepped forward, further closing the gap between them and brought his free hand up to brush back Vaelyn's long dark hair behind her ear. He let the hand slide gently to her chin to grasp it firmly with his fingers, bringing her face up so he could stare into those anguish filled, chocolate eyes. The dam shattered and more than a decades worth of tumultuous feelings rushed forward violently, down into the valley of her heart.
Vaelyn sobbed then, unable to beat back the tears that now gushed over like a waterfall. Years of denied feelings wracked her body savagely.
Cullen did something out of character then. He bent forward and kissed her forehead reverently; a warmth balled up in his stomach, unable to keep himself from tugging her into a tight embrace. He let his head rest against hers, pivoting a bit to plant another kiss on her head.
Vaelyn allowed her arms to loop around Cullen, completing the embrace, hugging him tighter all the while sobbing into the fur draped around his shoulders.
They stayed like that for a while longer, he supporting her silently and she trying to regain her composure. One of these days Cullen would solve that mystery known as Vaelyn Trevelyan, and perhaps one day he too would share his troubled past.
Those days still remained far away, yet now Cullen had hope for the future.
Author's Note:
So when I wrote the first piece that I considered a one shot at the time, I hadn't considered that it would end up being a pretty good premise for a story. I think I have a pretty good idea where I want to go with this, I just hope that it's good enough.
I also wanted to take the time to get into a little more detail with the way I perceive my own Inquisitor, as I failed to do so in the first. She's had a troubled past, nothing completely over the top but, enough to give her a little more depth. The game doesn't really give you much freedom in terms of main character story, just a template but that kind of gives us writers a chance to flesh our heroes out more.
I really just wanted to write my own romance for my Inquisitor and Cullen, I don't think the in game romance does the pairing true justice. I will do my best to rectify that while trying to stay as close to cannon as possible but making the characters more compelling to the best of my ability.
I've gone ahead and changed the name to make this official. No longer a one shot.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Stay tuned for future chapters.