It was days before Cullen was visited by the new Inquisitor again. There had been much to do, and Trevelyan was usually at the forefront. He would occasionally ask Leliana's agents about her whereabouts only to find that she was in the Undercroft being fitted for armor, with Josephine discussing politics and meeting with nobles, or making sure everyone at Skyhold was comfortable. Though Trevelyan hadn't left the castle since they discovered it, it often felt as though she was miles away. After their near-kiss next to the castle's steps, Cullen couldn't wait to see her again.
He was running through the guard roster and making sure everything was up to date when she sauntered into his quarters. He had found a comfortable location, secluded enough for him to think properly, but with a gaping hole in the ceiling. Builders had tried to convince him to get it fixed, but at least with an open roof Cullen didn't feel like he was suffocating in his memories of Ferelden's tower.
"Hello, Commander," she piped, her head the only thing sticking out of the door frame. "Care to discuss some Inquisition business?" As she said this, she displayed the contents of her hand, which included two glasses and an unknown type of alcohol. Her eyebrow perched, eliciting a laugh from Cullen.
"Of course, your Worship. Have a seat."
She skipped in, revealing the rest of her; her top clad in an emerald green sweater, with black pants and boots to match. Cullen marveled at how stunning he found her even like this. She didn't need plunging necklines and open backs to show off her beauty, it was simply evident in her every movement. "Your Worship? How official."
"Should I not call you that?"
"On the contrary," she jested. "I quite like the idea of you worshipping me, Cullen."
He was thrown by her forward nature, and as always by hearing his name roll off her tongue. However, there was a game he must play. "You seem happy today, day off?" he inquired.
"Ah, quite the opposite, actually," she explained while pouring the liquor into the glasses. "Josephine had me fitted for new clothing. She says that the Inquisition must show its status even in something so simple as the clothes I wear, hence this new outfit. Made from the finest fabrics in the realm. After that I had to meet with some snooty nobles. I'm just happy now because I've finally gotten to visit you in your new home!"
"And I suppose the alcohol is my housewarming present?" he continued to act playfully with her; after all, their game was won by no one yet, the power still up for grabs.
"Absolutely, dear friend," she retorted, taking a sip from her glass. "However, I must admit that this visit isn't entirely for pleasure." A blush rose to Cullen's cheeks at the thought of what Trevelyan visiting for pleasure would entail. "I've actually come to ask you about the Red Templars and their leader, Samson."
His stomach twisted at the thought of what his once-brothers-in-arms had become. All this time, templars in his mind existed to withstand and fight evil. The longer he was around them, the less true this became.
Sensing his mood change, she lifted his glass up and offered, "You can finish a glass before you start, if you'd like."
He expected to see humor on her face when he looked up, but was greeted with a much more serious expression. It was clear that she knew, even without asking, that this was hurting him. He grabbed the glass, nodded to her, and downed the liquor in one swig before he began.
"I've found where the Red Templars came from: Theirinfall Redoubt. The knights were fed red lyrium until they turned into monsters. Samson took over once their corruption was complete."
"How do you know Samson?" she asked, pouring them both another glass.
"He was a templar in Kirkwall, until he was expelled from the order. I knew he was an addict, but this...Red lyrium is nothing like the lyrium given by the Chantry. Its power comes with a terrible madness."
Victoria nodded solemnly. She was much more serious than usual when she responded, "The Red Templars swarming Haven were proof enough."
"We cannot allow them to gain strength," Cullen asserted, putting his glass down on the desk much harder than he expected. "The Red Templars still require lyrium. If we find their source, we can weaken them and their leader."
Victoria rose now, moving around the desk and sitting on the edge. "Look at me," she whispered. When Cullen wouldn't comply, she grabbed his face and brought it up to meet hers. "Are you angrier at Corypheus or Samson?"
"I don't know," Cullen sighed, finally admitting his frustration. "Samson, at least, should know better. Caravans of lyrium are being smuggled along trade roads. Investigating them could lead to where its being mined. If you confront them, be wary. Anything connected to Samson will be well guarded."
"You don't have to worry about me," Victoria muttered, stroking Cullen's arm in a manner that was very calming.
"I know," he replied, looking up at her and finally smiling again.
When she was finally confident that Cullen was okay, the Inquisitor rose and poured more liquor into their glasses.
This time, he started speaking on his own. He was angry over Samson, but if he could share that with anyone, it would be Trevelyan. "When I arrived in Kirkwall, Samson and I shared quarters. He seemed a decent man, at first. Knight-Commander Meredith later expelled Samson for "erratic behavior". He ended up begging on Kirkwall's streets. He committed further crimes, but managed to evade the Order's justice. Now Samson serves Corypheus as his loyal general."
"Why do you think Samson joined Corypheus?" Victoria inquired immediately. She had just been waiting for Cullen to open up to her before she asked serious questions. Cullen admired that about her. She was unwilling to rush anything, not wanting to make anyone uncomfortable or unhappy.
"He had a chronic lyrium addiction," Cullen answered honestly. "He spend every last coin buying it from local smugglers. Perhaps Corypheus flattered his vanity, gave him purpose as well as lyrium. Perhaps thats all it took."
"It sounds like Samson had a miserable life," Cullen heard Trevelyan whisper. Leave it to her to find sympathy for even a villain. She looked genuinely sad for a man who had recently tried to kill her. Her green eyes were filled with sorrow, a sorrow that Cullen shared for the former templar.
"The Order expelled Samson, but he had choices. He could have found another path. I don't understand how he became so powerful. Even with red lyrium, Samson's glory days are long behind him."
"I see," the Herald concluded, though Cullen could tell she wanted to ask more. "So, is lyrium addiction common in templars?"
"As leader of the Inquisition, you…" Cullen sighed. "There's something I must tell you."
He saw her straighten her posture now, recognizing Cullen's serious tone. "Whatever it is, I'm willing to listen."
"Right. Thank you," he stammered, still startled by her constant acceptance of him. "Lyrium grants templars our abilities, but it controls us as well," he explained, pulling out the kit he used to take the lyrium. "Those cut off suffer-some go mad, others die. We have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the templars here. But I...no longer take it."
Victoria was examining the box containing his philter and related equipment when her gaze shot up to him. "You stopped?" she inquired, perplexed.
"When I joined the Inquisition. It's been months now."
"Cullen, if this can kill you…" she exclaimed, now standing.
"It hasn't yet. 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. But I would not put the Inquisition at risk. I have asked Cassandra to...watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty."
He watched as Victoria returned to his side again. She ran her fingers through his hair and asked, "Are you in pain?"
"I can endure it," he explained, nuzzling his head into her hands.
"Thank you for telling me. I respect what you're doing."
"Thank you, Inquisitor. The Inquisition's army must always take priority. Should anything happen...I will defer to Cassandra's judgement. Maker, where did I find such an accepting woman?"
The question stumbled out of his mouth involuntarily, no doubt a result of the alcohol he consumed. Both of them blushed, and Trevelyan looked him in the eyes and responded, "Well, if I can recall, the Inquisition pulled me out of the Fade."
She was smirking now, allowing him to return to his playful banter with her. "Ah yes, how foolish of me to have forgotten."
Their foreheads touched then, as they usually did, and Cullen whispered, "If this were any other time, more could happen here. But I'd prefer-"
"That we weren't intoxicated. I understand," Victoria interrupted. Her lips met his then, only for a brief moment as she concluded, "Perhaps our next meeting will include more than business. Goodnight, Commander."
Cullen's mouth went dry at the thought. If it felt right, he would have kissed her now. Not these small kisses they've been sharing-a real kiss. He had expected her to return to her quarters for the night. However, when she walked away, she continued up to his bedroom. Surprised, Cullen followed. He found her with her shoes on the ground, already comfortable under his covers. He took off his boots as well as his overcoat and joined her, and she immediately snuggled up against him. He placed his arm around her and began playing with her hair when he heard her whisper, "I don't like sleeping without you next to me."
"Nor do I."