Of Plans and Drinks

"So while we wait for the nobility to convene and meet us at Therinfal Redoubt, what shall we do in the meantime?" Josephine asked after a moment of silence.

Just yesterday, the Herald and some of her companions burst into the War Room with news of a shortcut through the Fallow Mire. Just as she had requested of Cullen before she left, he did look into ways for them to finally get the attention of the Templar Order and approach them for help sealing the breach, with Josephine's help, of course. The woman had a way of working through the circles of nobility that he did not have the patience for, and their cause was better for it.

He watched as the young woman toyed with a few pawns, both off the map and on it. Cullen knew that fidgeting, she was planning to head out again even though she only just arrived back. But such was their life, and such was their cause. There was no rest for the wicked or those determined to bring them to justice.

"How long do you think it will take the nobility to mobilize, Josephine?" she asked, and Cullen did not like where she was looking. It was too far in Orlais, a week's worth of travel just to get there if they were lucky.

"A few weeks, if we are lucky. We can still head to Redcliffe Castle, though, if that is not to your liking, Herald."

She shook her head. "No. No, it's fine. We all know that is a trap, at least this way, they will risk angering the nobility of Orlais if they try such a thing."

"All right." Cullen watched as Josephine signed off on a missive, likely the petition for help from some of the allies they had gathered and hand it off to Leliana.

"And now, Herald?" he asked when the silence looked to drag on.

When she met his eyes, he noticed just how tired she seemed. Perhaps as tired as they all felt, and they were the ones who stayed in Haven and led from behind a desk while she led from the front. Soon they—Leliana, Josephine, Cassandra, and he—would have to sit down and discuss a true leader for the Inquisition. And for him, Lady Treveylan would be at the top of an extremely short list for that position. She already led by example, she often settled their disputes over how to proceed, she made the hard choices they couldn't agree on, and she commanded the respect of many.

But she looked away quickly, as she always seemed to do these days, and looked to Cassandra. "This is perhaps a great time to look into those shards we have been finding throughout Fereldan, so far. Especially since we have had their possible place of origin scouted out for a while now."

Leliana nodded. "A good idea. Who knows what secrets they hold? Not to mention the magic that concealed them for so long."

"Cassandra, Sera, Vivienne and myself will go," Trevelyan said as she fiddled with a few unused pawns. He watched as she placed them in various places. Two near to Val Royeaux, and one near Kirkwall. He sighed when he saw the Kirkwall pawn, knowing exactly who it was for and why. "Bull, Varric, and Blackwall can fill you all in better about their own requests which is why they're staying behind."

"Of course, Your Worship," Josephine said, unofficially concluding everything for the day.

Cullen had not had a chance to talk to Trevelyan yet in weeks away from the prying eyes of others, and walked a little faster than normal out of the War Room in the hopes of snagging her attention for a little bit. Even though they rarely moved beyond small talk, or talk about the Inquisition, he relished their little chats. Even when they were about work, he found them refreshing. Though that could be simply because he found her to be a refreshing person to be around.

And it made him almost feel bad. It was hard not to notice that others found her refreshing and wonderful to talk to as well, and he could not think of a time he saw her where she wasn't listening to some grievance or running an errand for someone. As much of a workaholic as he was, even he took some time each day for himself, and he wondered if she ever did. It caused guilt to nestle into his heart whenever he sent out requisition requests for the troops, or even stole her away for a few moments every now and then. But not enough to stop doing so, the benefit of being near her outweighed the guilt.

"My lady—"

"Herald."

Cassandra reached her first and grabbed her arm, leading her over toward Vivienne. But his voice apparently hadn't been drowned out by the Seeker for she looked over her shoulder toward him with contrition. She mouthed a, "Sorry," his way, but he waved it off with a smile.

No harm, no foul.

He figured they wanted to leave as soon as possible in order to get there and back without making the nobility wait. Or else they wouldn't hear the end of it from said nobility and Josephine.

"What is it with heroines trying to change the world falling for broody and troubled blondes?"

Cullen couldn't stop the sigh that fell from his lips when he heard Varric and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't think you know what you're talking about."

"Oh," Varric laughed, "I think I got seven years more experience than you in this department."

And that would be the starting point of today's headache for him, if his previous encounters with Varric were any indication.

Cullen stumbled forward, caught off-guard by the thump to his lower back from the dwarf. "C'mon, Curly," Varric said when he finally glanced down to see what he wanted. "The girls are leaving us for girl time in the desert, so I'm rounding up the guys for a night of diamondback and drinking in the tavern. And since Chuckles won't join in, we need another to make it even."

"I can't imagine why Solas won't join in." The sarcasm rolled off his tongue too easily for the person he used to be. He figured he really had been spending too much time with Varric recently. But it was not an unkind change.

"Oho! The Commander can sass!" Varric laughed. "Remember, tonight. Don't hide away in the barracks, or else I'll just have to have Bull drag you out in front of your men."

Cullen raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I'd like to see him try."

But Varric was already leaving the Chantry, and waved a hand back toward him in dismissal.

Nonetheless, he found himself at the tavern that night. It had been too long since he had taken a night to himself as he couldn't remember when he last did. That could possibly be the lyrium withdrawal talking, but he has pretty positive it was just him becoming too engrossed in training recruits, finding the best men to send out on missions, and trying not to think about Lady Trevelyan as anything other than a friend and a colleague.

However, he couldn't remember what time he stumbled out of the tavern with an equally drunk Blackwall back to the barracks or just how much he had had to drink between Varric's stories and Bull's tales. But he did remember waking up and finding a written apology from said woman who had been plaguing his thoughts more and more recently, along with a promise to talk when she returned. And suddenly, he wished he had stayed in last night if just to have a few moments alone with her.

And—Maker, perhaps Varric was right and he needed to get a hobby.

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