Chapter 2

Cullen collapsed to the ground. He dropped his sword and sat in the dirt, catching his breath. The sun was just now peaking over the tops of Skyhold's walls. The air was soothingly cool against his skin. He wiped the sweat away from his brow and ran his fingers through his hair. He leaned back and lay flat, staring up at the sky.

There was no one yet about. The silence was blissful. This was when he preferred to exercise his sword. Rising before dawn to practice his skills against the innocent dummies in the training yard was as good an excuse as any to be awake when normal people were still sleeping. He was always glad to have an excuse to pass as normal, rather than admit the truth of why sleep eluded him.

'The Commander is dedicated; working before dawn until late into the night.' That was what he preferred people to say of him. And he was dedicated, but there was selfishness in that dedication, for sometimes his dedication had nothing to do with the Inquisition and everything to do with keeping the demons out of his head.

Which is what brought him out here this morning. Phantom images of old memories had haunted him all night. In fact, it had been a trying past few days, made all the worse by Evelyn being here.

Normally it was the exact opposite, his only reprieve often coming in her presence alone. But not this time. In the same way the darkness of the past tainted everything in his life, it had now tainted what he had with her as well. It had been foolish of him to think it could be otherwise.

The sky above him was rapidly turning from dark grey to pale blue. Another day to battle through. He closed his eyes and spoke a prayer under his breath, as he did every morning, asking for the strength to persevere, hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.

When he opened his eyes again, the heavens above him were blocked by an equally heavenly sight. Evelyn was leaning over him. He never heard her approach. She always managed to sneak up on him. It had taken some getting used to. He wasn't one for surprises. Early on, even before they had become close, she noticed how it unsettled him and she offered to wear a bell. At the time, he obviously considered it a jest. Little did he know then that if he had asked her to do it, she would have.

She was good to him. Good for him. Far too good. He closed his eyes again. He didn't want to. He wanted to stare at her until the skies fell, but he was still having trouble facing her easy smile after what he had done the other night. She had waved it away as if it was nothing, refused to hear his apologies and she hadn't brought it up to him since, not changing how she was around him in any way as a result.

He was not taking it so well. He had attacked her. There was no excuse for it and in his mind there should be no forgiveness for it. He had nearly taken away not only his own salvation but that of the world, because his damaged mind had conjured demons where there were none.

When he felt the soft touch of her lips on the tip of his nose he looked up at her again. He couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. For her own sake and safety he wanted her to come to her senses and stay far away from him. But he was weak and he was selfish and he found himself unable to push her away.

"Did you break the dummies again?" She asked lightly.

"Only one this time." He replied.

She extended her hand to him and he took it, rising to his feet. She was holding his shirt which he had discarded carelessly on the ground and she handed it to him. "Did you sleep?"

"A little." He lied. One more thing to hate himself for, but she didn't need to know, she would only worry. He was certain she spent too much of her energy worrying over him.

She tilted her head and bit her lip, but left the subject where it was and spoke of other things. "Apparently I'm to entertain the delegation from Starkhaven all day." She sounded put out.

"They are important allies." He offered, trying to make her feel less like a court jester and more like a respected leader, even if he did agree with her annoyance. He knew she preferred to play politics outside the walls of Skyhold. When she was here she wanted to rest and look after her own people.

When they had first arrived at Skyhold she said she wanted this place to be a true home for all of them. She said a home should be a sacred place, untainted by the troubles of the world outside its walls; a place of respite and a rock upon which to build a future. He supposed that had been true of his childhood home, but every home he had known since then had been the epicenter of trouble itself, built upon shifting sands and offering only endings and no futures to speak of. He often thought is was not so much this place that epitomized her definition of home as it was Evelyn's presence in it.

"Can I see you afterward? Tonight?" She asked.

He reached out to touch her face, his hand caressing her jaw. He pulled her into a kiss. "You know you don't have to ask."

"But when I ask, I get a kiss." She beamed at him. To him it seemed brighter than the sun. "Try to rest a little today?"

"I'll try." Another lie.

Evelyn nodded slowly. If she was suspicious of his assertion that he would look after himself, she spoke nothing of it to him. She simply smiled and then left him to his day.

He wanted to follow her. He wanted to steal her away and take back all the lies. He wanted to give her more than lies; to show her that he wanted to be so much more to her. He wanted to be what she deserved.

Leaving the Order, stopping the lyrium, these attempts at redemption, at reclaiming his life were empty, meaningless, if there was nothing that came after. He wanted to push away the demons of the past and move forward. With her. There was a future there, he knew, somewhere, waiting for them. Her continued presence was enough to give him hope that it existed.

But he just couldn't get there. Not like this. Not when he still couldn't see past his ghosts to find his way to it.

He watched her back as she walked away, going off to fulfill her duties. Giving her a last lingering glance, that held more longing than he would have liked so early in the morning, he turned, picked up his sword and left to fulfill his own.

He moved through the motions of command as the day wore on. Solving one problem simply paved the way to deal with seven more. The doors to his office had been in a constant state of open all day. There seemed to be countless people coming and going, all with issues that needed his attention. So when, just after midday, the traffic and the demands on his time that came with it suddenly stopped, he took notice and was immediately suspicious.

It was at that moment, the friend of his suspicions appeared. Dorian casually leaned in the open doorway.

"I'm bored."

Cullen didn't even deign to look up from the reports on his desk. "I fail to see how that concerns me. I'm busy." As much as he was beginning to consider Dorian something akin to a friend, the mage's ennui did not warrant his attention.

"No, you're not. Not at the moment anyway, and not for while at a least."

As he thought. Suspicious. Cullen finally looked up. "And why is that?"

"She gave explicit orders that no one bother you this afternoon."

Of course she did. Sometimes their Inquisitor reminded him entirely too much of Sister Leliana. He was never sure exactly how much she was manipulating behind the scenes. He considered being angry that he wasn't immune to her machinations but he knew she was thinking only of his best interests.

"If I'm not to be bothered, why are you here then?" He asked Dorian.

"I feel as though the order didn't apply to me."

Cullen felt the need to add wryly, "Why is it easy for me to imagine that you often feel that way about orders?"

Dorian ignored him. "...And as I said, I'm bored. Care for a game?"

Cullen looked back down at his paperwork. Now that his concentration over it had been broken, he could think of nothing he wanted to do less than go back to it. "Fine." He conceded. "Let's go."

The two of them walked together to the garden. On the way, they passed a few of his officers who nodded at him in acknowledgement, but avoided eye contact. They were likely hoping he wouldn't try to engage them in work. If he did then they would be caught between their Commander and the orders of the Inquisitor. Not an enviable position, especially since there was no hope that she wouldn't find out about it. The damned woman seemed to know everything about everyone's business. Again, too much like Leliana. He chuckled a little under his breath.

"Something funny, Commander?" Dorian asked as they sat down on either side of the chess table.

"When exactly did she say I was permitted to return to work?" His sarcasm wasn't wasted on Dorian, but the mage simply replied with a bit of his own.

"Come, come, you agreed to play. Don't think you can back out now simply because you fear losing to me."

"Ha! Please! I was only trying to plan how long I can make you suffer before defeating you." Despite his initial reluctance, Cullen was already enjoying himself.

Dorian made the first move and then leaned back in his chair. "So, I was discussing your sex life with Evelyn..."

Cullen choked on his own saliva.

Dorian ignored it. "...or lack thereof, as the case may be."

He knew Evelyn and Dorian were quite close, but he would rather remain blissfully ignorant of what the two chose to discuss where he was concerned.

Cullen tried to appear disinterested. As much as any man can appear disinterested in his own sex life. "This isn't going to distract me into giving up the game to you. And how is it any of your business anyway?"

"My dear cousin's happiness is very important business to me, Commander."

A twinge of curious uncertainty bit at the back of Cullen's mind. "Has she...said she's...unhappy...?"

"As we both know, it seems there's nothing for her to be happy or unhappy about." Dorian took on an accusatory tone.

Cullen really did not want to have this conversation. He didn't want to have this conversation with himself. He didn't want to have this conversation with Evelyn. And he was certain that there was no conversation in all the world that he wanted to have less with Dorian. He couldn't think of anything to say, so he made some kind of grunting noise.

"That's fine. I presumed you would have little to say on the subject. Besides, I rather prefer hearing my own voice than having to listen to others, so feel free to enjoy it as well while I talk."

Cullen shifted in his seat, almost thinking to get up and run.

"Leaving are you? Does this mean I win?"

He settled back in, muttering a curse. He couldn't very well let Dorian win could he?

"That's what I thought." Dorian commented a little smugly. "Anyway, how well would you say you know our sweet Evelyn?"

Cullen opened his mouth to say something, but he should have known better than to try, because the mage just kept right on talking, without actually giving him a chance to respond.

"Because I recently learned the most interesting thing you've ever heard."

"Does she know you're casually sharing her business?" He managed to slip the question in while Dorian was taking a breath.

"I'm not relating anything you wouldn't eventually have learned on your own. There's no telling when that would have been, however, hence the point of this conversation."

Cullen shifted in his chair again. He wanted to get up and walk away indignantly, preserving Evelyn's privacy...but he also wanted to hear this...

"Andraste's chosen one is, apparently, pure as the driven snow."

What? He said the word aloud."What?" What was that supposed to mean?

Dorian rolled his eyes at him. "The dear girl's an innocent! At least keep up with the conversation if you won't participate! She's untouched. A virgin. Understand?"

"I...um...what?" Cullen leaned forward, his eyes squinting and his nose wrinkling as if he hadn't quite heard correctly.

"I don't think I need to repeat myself. Though I admit my reaction was much the same. Well, more articulate, of course, but no less shocked."

Cullen had to remind himself to breath. This certainly wasn't something he had been expecting to learn today. Maker! He knew she was young. Much younger than himself. He had spent more than a few nights pondering his insecurities in that regard. But this. He wasn't sure how to respond to this. Or if he should respond at all.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he wasnt' sure yet, Dorian responded for him.

"Now, you must be thinking, 'What in the world am I supposed to do with this information?'" Cullen was not amused by Dorian's impression of his Fereldon accent. "Which is exactly the problem, Commander. You see, while you're pondering how to process what I've told you and what you should do about it, if anything, any other man would know exactly what to do about it. There wouldn't even be a question."

He really didn't want to be having this conversation. The game pieces before him blurred in his vision. He rubbed his eyes.

Dorian imitated him again, "Why, Dorian, my wise and trusted friend, please tell me what a normal man would do?" Now back to his own voice. "Well, Cullen, a normal man would be rushing to cure her affliction as soon as humanly possible. It seems our girl wants to be rid of it post haste, having found true love and all that nonsense." He waved his hand in Cullen's direction.

What? Cullen's vocabulary had apparently degenerated down to that single word. He attempted to formulate and actual response. "Did she...um...say that?" Maker! Why would he ask that? When had he turned into a simpering teenager?

Dorian shrugged. "Not in so many words. She didn't need to. I know a love sick woman when I see one. I have to turn them away so often, after all, the poor things." He sighed and continued. "Anyway, I have no idea how she came to be in this predicament. Innocence aside, she's such a passionate soul..."

Cullen found himself nodding his head in agreement. She was passionate. His gut twisted and his chest tightened at thoughts of how her lips always molded so sweetly to his, at how her lithe form always rose up so eagerly to meet him, at how her green eyes shone with want and desire. She was passion personified.

Wait. How...? "And how would you know how passionate she is?" He demanded a little to harshly of Dorian.

"Oh spare me your chivalrous jealousies Commander. Honestly, if anyone's chastity is in jeopardy from me, it's yours, not hers." Dorian winked and his lips motioned a kiss at him. "Passion is not something limited to lovemaking. But we've gone off topic. We were discussing how, as a red-blooded man, you should be doing something about this travesty! Especially since said 'chosen one' has chosen you."

And there was the crux of it. Cullen found himself surrendering to the discussion at hand. "It is extremely complicated, Dorian. There are...things you don't know; that she doesn't know. I will not see her harmed. Not by anyone's hand, but most certainly not by my own." He growled out the statement, revealing more frustration than he wanted.

Dorian looked him straight on and his tone grew suddenly serious. "Commander, if I thought you would harm her, I assure you that we wouldn't be having this very pleasant conversation right now."

It appeared Cullen wasn't the only person who had grown overly protective of Evelyn. His respect for Dorian grew, especially since he was a mage threatening an ex-Templar. If nothing else, Evelyn commanded the loyalty of her friends.

Cullen closed his eyes and sighed. "It isn't as if I'm not willing. Maker! Who wouldn't be willing? It's just..." His voice trailed off, not wanting to speak aloud the doubts that haunted him. He couldn't expose her to his demons. And knowing she had yet to experience... If he were to be her first... He only wanted good things for her, it was what she deserved. He wasn't at all sure he could guarantee her that. Not after what he had already done.

But then where did that leave him? Living in a half-committed perpetual fear? And where did that leave her? Forever waiting for him to bury his ghosts? And what if he never could? He rubbed at his temples. This was everything he didn't want to even think about, let alone lay bare in front of someone, even if he considered them a friend.

Dorian resumed his lighthearted discourse and idly made a move with one of his pieces. "Ah well. A prize such as Evelyn does not go unclaimed forever. If you aren't willing, I have no doubt there are countless others who would be. For instance, I hear she's busy parading around with the emissaries from Starkhaven today. Their prince is still looking for a wife. From what I've heard tell, she would be just perfect for him. Varric knows him reasonably well, in fact, says he's quite dashing."

Cullen looked up at that. He had known Prince Sebastian also, in passing, in Kirkwall. Although he didn't recall feeling any hatred for the man back then as he seemed to be experiencing at the moment.

There were now two opposing thoughts dominating his head. He couldn't claim Evelyn because he feared hurting her. But he would not allow anyone else to claim her. Especially now that he knew about her innocence. He may not trust himself with it, but he'd be damned before he entrusted it to any rogue of a prince who just happened to be walking by. Evelyn was his. His.

"I'm going to assume, Commander, that you're intellect is currently at odds with your ego. Hopefully, for both of your sakes' the right one will prevail. And, with that, I believe this game is mine."

Cullen, startled out of his possessive reverie, looked down at the table.

Fuck. Dorian had beaten him.

Dorian rose from the table. "Sometimes not moving at all loses the game just as quickly as making the wrong moves, Commander. And one last thing, in case I wasn't clear. I like you very much, and I don't think you will, but if you did hurt her I'd have to make sure you learned why mages from my homeland are so feared. Don't make me have to do that. We're both far too pretty for such ugliness."

The mage turned without another word and walked away, leaving Cullen with his ghosts, his doubts and his choices.