Happy holidays! It took me over half a year, but I finally got my degree, and I am back to writing. I have several fics I would like to share.

This one was inspired by a writing prompt from incorrect-cullen-quotes on Tumblr: (incorrect-cullen-quotesDOTTUMBLRDOTcom/post/639853383230046208/varric-ever-wonder-if-youre-the-bad-guy-in):

Varric: Ever wonder if you're the bad guy in someone's story?

Cullen: Varric, I'm the bad guy in my story.

Now, Commander Cullen, formerly Kirkwall's Knight-Captain, was a serious man known for the roguish scar above his lips, a head of hair groomed to death, and a face permanently creased with disapproval about some matter, big or small. Back in Kirkwall, the mages derided him as Meredith's lap dog, and it was an apt description. Until the very last moment of Knight-Commander Meredith's reign of terror, he faithfully executed her harsh policies. Those gave Hawke and us quite a lot of grief. Though it was usually cured by a pint or two from the Hanged Man at the end of the day.

Imagine my surprise to find him at the helm of the Inquisition forces, his dour face now part of the group that would decide Thedas's future.

I must admit, I was awfully worried. And the apprehension was more than a pint or two could help.

Several months had passed since Corypheus's ignominious defeat, but the Inquisition remained, its existence bolstered by the nearly unconditional Orlesian support. And days continued on as they did during the war.

After their rigorous morning training, Cassandra and Tharin shared a pail of cold water, passing a cup between themselves. After their ragged breaths calmed and their sweat cooled, Cassandra mumbled, "I think I should let you know…"

Tharin looked at the woman curiously. "Let me know what?"

Cassandra dawdled. Rather unlike her usual forthright demeanor, she seemed troubled. She only began after a heavy exhale, "You know how Varric has written a book about us?"

"I haven't gotten around to reading it yet." Tharin remembered how excited she was when it first came out. Excited enough to buy copies and gift them to everyone on the war council.

"That's it."

Tharin tilted his head. "What's it?"

Cassandra balanced her chin on the palm of her right hand and hummed, "I started reading it, and it… talks about Cullen. In unflattering terms."

"Oh," Tharin emitted a noise that did not quite become a sigh. "I should have expected that. Varric is Hawke's best friend. Of course, he would not regard Cullen fondly."

Cassandra whipped her head and began to talk animatedly, "But it is ridiculous! Yes, Cullen was part of the system that abused Kirkwall mages. But he has done so much more for the mages and the world since then! Varric is being patently unfair!"

Knocking back another cup of water, Tharin wiped his mouth and smiled ruefully, "The right things he has done do not erase the wrong things he's done."

Cassandra huffed and frowned. Tharin's evenhanded attitude must have frustrated her. "If you won't defend him, who will? You should go protest this injustice."

Tharin gripped the bench they were sitting on and leaned back. When he closed his eyes, the bright summer sun followed. The sunshine that penetrated through his eyelids seemed to gambol as clouds passed by. "I love Cullen more than anything. But he doesn't need my protection. And I can't stop Varric from writing what he will. No one should have the power to stop him from writing what he wants."

He heard Cassandra emit her frustrated groan, which was followed by a tetchy remark, "You would be angry like me if you read what he wrote."

This is the man who so eloquently declared, "mages aren't people like you and me."

Let me reiterate just in case that line was unclear. The man blustered, "mages aren't people like you and me."

There was no reasoning with him back then, though I will say he was better than those other Kirkwall templars. Most had a less than commendable habit of picking and choosing which of the Chantry rules to follow and which to ignore. Before Divine Victoria wisely abolished them, the Circles never lacked in rumors about beautiful mages being harassed and assaulted by brutish templars. To my knowledge, Knight-Captain Cullen neither committed such offenses nor condoned them during his tenure. If the Chantry dictated, he followed.

As far as I could tell, he never uttered another vicious remark about mages again, though who knows what happened behind closed doors – besides all those chants and prayers he doubtlessly recited. But he always treated mages with cold detachment, as though he could not bear to interact with them beyond what his duties called for. Evidently, to him, the mages were not people. Creatures not worth his attention or affection or persecution.

When Tharin approached Varric in Skyhold's great hall, he held up his hands and backed away. "Whoa, whoa, I already got an earful from Seeker. I don't need another from you."

Tharin smirked. "You are smart. You could've foreseen how people would react to what you wrote, don't you agree?"

Varric stopped backing away and folded his arms as though to protect his heart, "Hey, I don't write anything less than the whole truth."

"You must admit, you aren't exactly the most objective conveyor of the truth, Varric," said Tharin in between chortles. "Anyway, I am not angry. Based on what Cassandra said, it sounds like you wrote what was true about Cullen in Kirkwall. I can't get mad about that."

Varric soughed. With a grin tugging at the corners of his lips, the dwarf said, "That's what I said! Seeker completely overlooked every nice thing I wrote after that passage."

Intrigued, Tharin raised his brow and questioned, "What nice things?"

Staunchly unapologetic, Varric shrugged. "I know Seeker gave you a copy. You should give it a read. I did work really hard on it."

Nonetheless, his conduct during the long War against Corypheus was exemplary. Exemplary enough for me to reexamine my assumptions, anyway.

He helped the independent mages integrate into the Inquisition without forcing the rules of the Circles on them. In fact, he went so far as to advocate for the abolition of the Circles during the Divine Election. When I heard what he said, my jaw fell to the floor. I imagine Hawke would have burst out laughing and pumped her fist in the air before shouting, "Victory!"

Now, that idea of abolishing the Circles had to have come from someone else, namely the man who transcended into demi-godhood. Matters relating to him, I will discuss in the next chapter. Still, it was a sea change from what the Knight-Captain was like in Kirkwall.

I finally understood how Hawke, an apostate in all but name, could bring herself to befriend Cullen. It is not what he had done but what he was capable of.

It turned out, he was capable of so much more.

The moons were bright and lustrous that night.

In his bed, Tharin held Cullen in a firm embrace. He watched as Cullen's fingers absentmindedly brushed against his chest. The man was endearing.

There nevertheless raged a debate in Tharin on whether to mention Varric's book. Earlier, he devoted a half hour to skim the chapter on Cullen, and the dwarf's critical words circled in his head. They had fought for peace so long. Now that it was here, it was hard to let go, to let anything disturb their quiet mundanity.

But the words traveled, and Varric's tell-all was an instant bestseller in every nation of Thedas. There was no way Cullen would not hear about it. If he had not read the book yet, it would be better to preempt the discussion.

Cullen's whisper interrupted his thoughts. "Is something the matter?"

Tharin shook his head. Warily, he broached the topic, "Have you read Varric's book?"

A cloud passed through the moonbeam, and Cullen sighed, "Yes…" He burrowed into Tharin's bosom, breathed deeply, and spoke in a muffled voice, "Maker… I am the villain in my own story. How do you stand me?"

"You are easy to look at," Tharin jested as he ran his hand through Cullen's 'groomed-to-death' hair and mussed it.

Cullen chided, "I am serious."

Tharin intently looked at Cullen as he contemplated. Cullen stared back with poignant eyes, his face contorted in a pained grimace. Slowly, slowly, as though approaching a skittish halla, Tharin spoke, "The Kirkwall mages won't forgive you, and from what you've told me, it doesn't sound like they should. There is no such thing as owed forgiveness. What you need is acceptance of your past."

Cullen bumped his forehead against Tharin's chest a couple times. He seemed to struggle. "But… the Gallows was… I… Everything that happened in Kirkwall… It is my fault. All those people maimed and killed, all those people made Tranquil…"

Tharin emitted a soft sough and continued to caress Cullen's hair. "Would you please stop torturing the love of my life?"

"I am the love of your life?" said Cullen in a bemused tone.

Tharin mocked hurt. He protested, "Don't look so surprised. Here I was, hoping I would be the love of your life."

Cullen chuckled in a low voice, and their twined bodies hummed along with the laughs. "You are. You are…" His countenance was earnest. How very Cullen, and the expression had the way of making Tharin's heart squeeze, like it would burst. Tharin could not resist pecking a small kiss on the man's forehead.

The silent darkness enveloped the two and prompted their deep contemplation. Cautiously, Cullen finished, "Acceptance is hard. Sitting with my past hurts. Knowing what I have done hurts. But I'd like to try. I want to be happy. I want… us to be happy."

With Varric's harsh words fading away, Tharin whispered, "I already am."

Honor and Will series (*AO3*/series/2383024) continues. I will post the next fic on Sunday, December 30!