There was no word from Cullen for over a month. In that time, things improved at the Owl Roost Inn. Shortly after telling Alec her true identity, she sought out Rosalie and told her, as well. Rosalie didn't look surprised, either, and wasn't angry about the deception.

"You had your reasons. I'm not going to question them - or you," Rosalie said, shrugging. "We've all got secrets, right? Yours just, ah… happened to be a bigger one."

The acceptance was freeing. Diana felt like a crushing weight had been eased from her chest and she was finally, finally able to talk to Rosalie without worrying about if she was keeping her lies consistent or not. The pair of women became closer than ever, going on frequent outings together as Rosalie's belly began to show evidence of new life.

One afternoon as Rosalie and Diana were sitting on benches in front of the inn, a messenger came with a letter. The innkeeper, who set her clothes mending aside, took one look at the letter and then thrust it toward Diana. "It's for you."

The outside of the letter was addressed to Lena, but the inside started with her actual name.

Diana,

This letter comes with three apologies: an apology for asking you to join me at Highever, an apology for leaving without saying goodbye, and an apology for the lack of letters. I promise you that I haven't been able to write to you until now or I would have done so. Leliana asked for a favor and I owed her one. It was time sensitive and needed to be done discreetly, so I couldn't leave you any details.

I hope you can forgive me.

We're headed for Highever, now. Maybe by the time you get this letter, we'll already have arrived. It's daring of me to imagine you'd write back to me, but I know every time I see a messenger I'll still hope.

Cullen

"Why do you get a letter and I don't? I'm his sister!" Rosalie grumbled, but her half-smile betrayed that she didn't really mind. After a moment, she continued, her words chosen carefully in order to sound casual. "You know, we do have ink and parchment if you're… what?"

Diana's dark eyebrows were raised. "You're not very subtle, Rosalie."

"What?! I don't - I'm just - sorry for wanting to be helpful!" Rosalie squawked, folding her arms over her chest. "Write back or don't write back. I couldn't care less. I have no interest whatsoever in either of you."

Diana laughed slightly, folding the letter carefully. "Alright then, I won't write back."

The two women sat in a tense silence for several minutes, both stubbornly refusing to look at each other. Finally, Rosalie threw up her hands. "You're really not going to write back? You two spend every moment together when he's here and then you - where are you going?"

The former Inquisitor had stood and was now smiling smugly. "To write a letter."

Rosalie scoffed loudly as Diana disappeared into the inn.

Cullen,

I don't accept any of your apologies because they're not needed. Two of those things were out of your control and one was my fault, so please accept my apology for how I reacted. I would explain why I felt like that, but I don't think there's enough parchment in Thedas to explain how I was feeling, even if I knew where to begin.

I'm sending this letter to Highever. I hope you're there by the time it arrives but in case you're not, know it's been waiting for you.

Diana

P.S. You can address my letters to Diana. I told Alec and Rosalie.

P.P.S. If you continue writing letters, that is.

Alec took the letter to town to send with a messenger. Diana felt a low buzz in her stomach as she watched him disappear over a hill. Maybe she shouldn't have written anything after her name. Cullen was bound to busy overlooking the sanctuary; he didn't need to worry about writing letters to her.

A small, steely voice grew in her heart. Or you should have written more, told him you hope he writes again, should have told him you miss him, should have-

She silenced it. She didn't wish to make this more complicated than it already was.

Cullen did continue writing letters.

And Diana continued writing back.

Over the course of two months, a thick stack of Cullen's letters formed on the table in her bedroom. While waiting for a new letter to arrive, Diana found herself rereading them.

They talked about absolutely everything. She would describe a particularly delicious new cake Rosalie had made (and attach a recipe, should he wish to try it) and he would tell her about Roger's antics or a new templar that had arrived at the sanctuary. Sometimes he mentioned how the spring rains had made the grass grow tall and how he was looking forward to the warm sun of summer.

Every letter was pleasant, well-written, and entertaining.

Diana hated them.

Writing to Cullen wasn't the same. They each had too much time to choose their words when they wrote letters. The honesty, the intensity of his amber eyes couldn't be seen in ink. She didn't feel the same strength she did when she was next to him in person; it was harder to be open with one another in a letter.

It felt like she was pretending again. Like they both were.

She took longer and longer to write back to Cullen. He wrote back just as quickly as ever. Eventually, she stopped writing altogether. Guilt settled into her over the course of a week. She was letting him down.

"Are you alright?" Rosalie asked one day when Diana didn't get out of bed until well past noon.

Diana didn't answer. They both knew the answer to that question: no. No, she wasn't okay. She was drifting back again, back into being Lena. Back into ignoring everything that was hard to talk about, back into feeling nothing and staring into an endless void.

Rosalie left her alone. She didn't come back until the morning, when she brought a plate of breakfast to Diana. "Please eat something, love," she said quietly. "This came earlier."

The blonde woman pulled a thin letter from her apron pocket and sat it into the bed next to Diana before leaving again, pulling the door shut quietly behind her. It took far too long for Diana to summon the energy to sit up and inspect the letter. The handwriting on the outside was Cullen's, but she wondered what the contents could be.

Whereas his other letters had been growing in length and detail, becoming thick and heavy, this one was tiny and light. She opened it.

I miss you.

Yours,

Cullen.

Her heart thrummed in her chest, throat tightening as she looked down at the letter. Why did she feel this way? Tears blurred her vision before she swiped them away with the back of her hand.

Then Diana stood up from the bed so quickly that the letter fluttered, forgotten, to the floor. She tore around her room, quickly emptying the contents of her dresser and chest into her leather pack. In her haste, she tipped the wooden chair over and the loud clattering brought both Rosalie and Alec running into her room.

"What are you doing?" Rosalie asked, looking alarmed as she stood in the doorway.

"Seems pretty clear to me," Alec was beaming, white teeth flashing against dark skin. "She's leaving."

"Leaving? For where?"

Diana looked up from where she was trying to stuff her feet into her boots. Breathlessly, she said one word. "Highever."