Solona was cuddled next to him, the fire not hot enough for either of their liking. Not that they were freezing, but it wasn't comfortable. Cullen kept his arm around her, the blanket pulled tight as she fought sleep. He watched her nod off before eyes snapping open to stare at the fire. "Did you decide what we're doing?" she asked finally, neck craning to try and get a look at his face.
Cullen frowned. "No." She hummed, head rolling down to stare at the fire again. "Will you tell me about your family?"
She tensed in his arms. "It's not a happy story," she said finally, sitting up instead of leaning against him now. She pushed her hair- finally loose of that braid and that made Cullen's heart race- and stared up through her thick lashes at him. "My father was a noble from Orlais, Gwenael. He impregnated my mother out of wedlock. He was never formally accepted as my father- he family did not let him. But Mother vowed he was the only man she ever spread her legs for. But I carry her name- Amell- because I am not allowed his. Or she would have given me his, she said.
"He stayed around for most of my life before I was sent to the Gallows. What I remember of him is vague. He was gentle but had rough timbre to his voice. And the accent." She shrugged. "He was forced to marry when I was... how old was I? I was four. He visited less and Mother began to... she became unahppy. Small things changed.
"My Mother was Revka Amell, daughter to Aristide Amell. Aristide, Grandfather was to be Viscount, and everything was set in order until I shot lightning at a neighbors houseplant after their boy refused to give me back my doll. He had been mocking me with it- her, Dandelion was her name- and I hit the plant instead of him. A blessing, probably."
"Probably?"
"I still don't like the boy." Cullen chocked on his laughter. "He was a jerk."
"Do you even remember his name?"
"No. But they- his family gave my mother grief over that for ages. I was taken away, torn from her arms and they watched from windows. I never did get Dandelion back." She glanced down at her hands. "But my mother fell into a depression. Her cousin ran away with a mage that fled the Gallows about the same time I was taken to the Gallows. She always complained about the injustice of it all. Her cousin had a happy ending with her mageling- a man. And she was allowed neither. Not her mageling or her man. There was no such thing as justice, she would say in her letters. Not in a world where a child was torn from the arms of a wailing mother and refused her father."
Cullen frowned. "I am sorry."
"I barely remember it." She shook her head. "But my mother would never let herself forget. She made herself sick over me being a mageling. She fell into a deep depression. She hung herself. She wrote me one last letter that I received after she was declared dead." She stopped a moment, and then said softly. "I was not allowed to attend her funeral."
"Solona! I-"
"It is nothing. I've long since accepted my mother was weak." She shrugged. "I didn't know her very well anyways." However she let him pull her closer, into his lap so he could nuzzle against her hair in comfort. It seemed more for himself than for her, Cullen knew. "My grandfather wrote to me twice after her death. Sometime after that I was sent to Fereldan. The Gallows were over full, and the Tower was in fact short. I was volunteered to be shipped across. I am docile, demure, whatever you wish to call it. And here my family name means nothing. Here, my name was not set to rule. It was a complete win for the Templars."
"Solona, my love-"
She craned her head back to smile up at him. "I warned you it was not a happy tale."
"You speak of them in a way that breaks my heart."
"I did not know them, Cullen. She is my mother only in name. I don't even remember what her voice sounded like. I know her hand writing, nothing more. I can no more claim the Amells as my family as I can claim Fereldan my nation. I am an outcast to everything outside the Tower. Even the Gallows are foreign to me at this point." She kissed his cheek. "Do not fret over it. I do not."
Cullen wasn't sure how she did. His past was not one of pleasures and happiness, but it was better than that. He had been given to the Chantry for Templar training early, but it had been at an older age and he had understood. His parents were poor and could not support him. Not after his father lost his hand to a nasty infection. He had joined gladly, willing to serve the Maker and Andraste.
Of course, now he sat cuddling with an apostate.
He kissed the top of her head, running his hand through her hair. "It still saddens me, Solona. I wish you-" Did it matter what he wished of her past? No. "You will have a happier future," he promised instead.
Solona stopped to stare at him, wiggling and turning so she could face him head on. The things it did to him shouldn't be mentioned, and Cullen felt dirty for the way her simple movements made him hunger with things he wasn't willing to take. But she held his face in her hands and searched his face for something. And her expression was enough for Cullen to ignore the aches.
"It still amazes me when you say things like that," she whispered, looking ready to cry. "I never know what to say in response." Her thumb ran across his cheekbone, trailing down to trace his lips. Cullen took her hand, kissing each finger before her knuckles, and then her lips.
"You don't ever have to say anything, Solona." And Cullen meant it. He didn't need anything but her safety and her happiness. If he could help her find it with him, that would simply be a blessing and a miracle that he did not deserve but would selfishly take and enjoy.
She slept in his arms that night, and Cullen loved holding her to him. He cradled her against his larger frame, curling around her to protect her from the world when she was most vulnerable. She was pressed flush against him in their tent-their tent! Her body pliant against his harder one, giving so he could press closer. Not that he should have. He teased and toyed with temptation. Tortured himself by letting her wiggle and press herself back against him.
But it was different now.
He would have her, eventually. She kissed him. It would be soon- or later, it mattered little- that he could do as his body willed. He teased himself with no idea when he would be able to stop the sweet torture. It would be days before they had a bed again. But then, if not in the next village his torture would continue. A torture too cruel that left him in too sweet of agony.
It was in the morning that he felt the dull thud in the back of his head- his own heartbeat too loud against his skull- that Cullen realized he needed his lyrium and was beginning to run low. He had rationed what he had stolen from the Tower, praying it would last long enough. He had no idea how to find more. Buying it was so expensive and they did not have the coin for his addiction. Even with how he took the bare minimum, he would easily take up all their coin.
Cullen licked his dry lips, taking a sip of the lyrium before stashing it away with the last bottle. That meant he had a bottle and a half to last him who knew how long. Rubbing his temple, Cullen tried to stave off the pain before Solona woke up. The bottles had to a least last him to the village. He'd have to pray to Andraste- if she even still listened to him- that somebody had more there. Depending on how large it was, their Chantry might not even have any lyrium. Cullen began making breakfast, needing to get his mind off of his addiction.
When she awoke his headache was gone and he gave her an honest smile. She smiled in return and finishing cooking the breakfast for him. She hadn't noticed yet his addiction. He was sure she knew Templars were addicted, but at the end of the day it wasn't something she'd think about. It wasn't something he wanted her to think about. Rubbing at his eyes, Cullen took the whetstones to his sword. He spotted the crown of flowers as he did so, smiling as he gently set it up safe atop his bag. They stayed until he finished sharpening his sword and then began their long trek.
They walked into the larger village hand in hand, Cullen helping her over the muddy ground. They found their way to Blue Bottle Hall, he listening to Solona ramble about odd tavern names and why innkeepers chose them. Most had a story that they were willing to tell- or at least the barkeeper was. Solona, always in love with stories, often listened with an eager ear. Cullen found he had less of an ear for them, but listened none the less.
He bought a room and they made their way up to drop their bags off. Solona tracing the old wood with her fingers as they made their way up, looking at all the pictures and the animal heads hanging as she always did. "Don't they look so happy?' she said, pointing at one paintings.
Cullen saw the smiling couple in the painting, all dressed for their wedding. "They are." She smiled brightly and made her way back up to their room. Cullen followed after her, closing the door and setting his bag down. He stepped out afterwards to go and look for jobs that he could do, trusting her now to be fine on her own. None of it was worth mentioning,the work they had for him. Most of it wouldn't pay for much. But every little bit helped.
They had showed up near dinner time, which meant he was late to dinner. Solona sat at a table sipping something that looked warm. He slid into a chair beside her and she smiled up at him. "Good work today?"
"Yes," he said.
"You don't have to fib, you know. I'm sheltered, not stupid remember? Places like this can't give good work."
"That depends on your definition of good."
"I'd hate to see what just okay, or barely decent would be for you then, Cullen," she said with a smile hidden behind her cup.
Cullen shook his head. Her sharp wit shocked him when it emerged but he was getting used to it. Slowly. Eventually he'd be able to make a comeback, he thought with a smile. "We'll stay here for a few days. We aren't that low on coins."
"If we're going... anywhere we need more."
"Like you said, Solona. We'll get better coin elsewhere." He smirked as she scowled. "Have you eaten?"
"No. I was waiting for you." Cullen felt his heart swell at that simple sentence. She raised her hand to signal the waitress, her other hand stretching the small distance between them to hold his hand.
Updating here first instead of on lj. First time. Hopefully this chapter is special enough to warrant that right? Writing them as an actual couple now is almost sickly sweet. Especially since that's all there is. The plot is minimal. Anyway, I wanted to expand on the Amell family in Kirkwall in this story, so apologies if it doesn't interest you. But Amell's mother seemed sort of sad to begin with (her father was going to be the Viscount. DA wiki told me so) and since we aren't told their father and she's an Amell and nothing else, I figured Daddy wasn't around. The rest... I don't know. I'm secretly into creepy dark things I guess. But the sadder it was, the more I'd show how detached the mages are from the rest of the world. Their world. Mostly my point.
Anyway, reviews appreciated.