A/N: Did not mean to disappear, sorry - I've been busy wrapping up my unbelievably long Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic, and this one was put on the backburner. Plus there's only so much you can see about the actual royals in the media before you're a bit burnt out with it all lolol.

Evelyn's next day of working with One Day Soon was her favourite sort of working day. Oh, she was good at the other stuff - the ribbon cutting and the speech giving and the smiling demurely in pretty dresses - but she enjoyed this more. Scoping out a large section of one of Starkhaven's largest parks, they set up all manner of stalls and games and merch stands, ready for the long day of activities ahead. She'd shown up as early as possible, clad in a pair of jeans, trainers, and a white t-shirt bearing the charity's name and logo, with her hair scraped up into a businesslike ponytail, and gotten stuck in.

She didn't doubt the other stuff was helpful - she'd seen how it had helped, and Aveline had passed on a very pleased email from Cullen himself of how they'd already seen an uptick in interest and donations both since their first social media announcement - but this was different. Setting up stands and helping organise games and arrange pamphlets was just more tangible. Yes, it seemed smaller scale, but before mid-morning had even fulled rolled around she could look around what had previously been a set of empty green fields, replaced by what would be the stage for the rest of the day, and know she'd had something to do with all of it.

"How much is still left to do?" A now-familiar voice spoke somewhere behind her.

Turning her head, she smiled at Cullen in greeting - and that smile widened into a grin when his eyes widened as he realised who it was he'd just spoken to.

"I- Your Royal Highness, I had no idea you were already here, I wasn't told, and I didn't…"

"Few ever get to see me in this level of finery, to be sure," she teased "But we're basically done. All that's really left to do are the big signs to go up at the entrance of the park, and I believe there's going to be a stage somewhere to the left of that field over there later on, but the health and safety people won't let me have anything to do with that. Something about squishings and lawsuits if it's not done properly."

"I've heard squishing lawsuits are the worst kind," Cullen replied seriously and she laughed, earning a small smile from him.

He'd been here just as early as she had - if not earlier. There were that many people gathered that it was difficult to tell, and every time she'd spotted him - an easy feat, considering his blond head poked up above most others - he'd been hard at work seeing things organised and put together.

"Have they given you an itinerary for the day?" He asked "I understand Rylen masterminded most of the day's activities with help from your people. I'm unsure as to how these things usually go, or what would be appropriate."

"It's all fairly typical," she shrugged slightly, wedging her hands into her jeans pockets "The activities that I'll be taking part in have been organised so that they all take place at separate times."

"A handy thing," he joked slightly and she smiled.

"Ah, but then it doubles my availability and the novelty will wear off."

"Not if both versions of yourself charm the way you charmed that lad on your last visit. He's still on a high over it, you know, you're all he'll talk about, it's threatening to drive all those in his room mad."

"See? I'd create more enemies than allies through sheer power of annoyance," she teased "But that's sweet of him. I trust his letter was sent without any problems?"

"It was - he can't be here today, he took a nasty turn with his symptoms this morning," seeing the alarm in her widening eyes, he continued "Oh, it's quite typical in his situation, recovery is filled with peaks and valleys, it's not pleasant but he's not in mortal peril as is. His family, however, have made the journey to be here for this, if you'd like to meet them."

"I would," she nodded.

"I believe mentions of raffles, bake sales, and three-legged races were made."

"Yes - there's also a sack race, an egg and spoon race, and a football match. All of which I'll take part in myself."

"You play football?"

"Not well, but I understand that's part of the charm."

Cullen chuckled "Part of the charm perhaps, but not part of a good winning tactic."

"Even better for you - Rylen volunteered you to lead the opposite team."

The reaction that prompted from the man was strange - and Evelyn could make neither heads nor tails of it. At first he was unimpressed, visibly unimpressed, his lips thinning in a grimace as he breathed a fraction of a sigh for the slightest fraction of a second. But then he remembered himself, his eyes widening in…nerves? Straightening his back, he forced a smile onto his face and rubbed the back of his neck. Evelyn had thought she didn't make him nervous, but that suggested otherwise. Or at least that there was some level of self-regulating that he was doing around her that he wouldn't ordinarily do.

He wasn't used to keeping such a tight leash on his reactions and responses, not in the same way that she was (but that would be a hell of a challenge for a typical everyday person who didn't eat, sleep, and do everything else under the sun under the gaze of the public), otherwise it wouldn't have taken him so long to do so, and it wouldn't have been so obvious. But the fact remained that he did feel the need to do it now.

It shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did. She was a royal, people behaved differently around royals, it was no great surprise, but other than his initial nerves during their very first meeting, Cullen didn't seem the type to be that way. Was it silly of her to feel a bit disappointed? Maybe. But she pushed past it - and she wouldn't hold it against him. How could she? Her disappointment said more about her than it did him, and it was her mistake.

"I was thinking men versus women," she said "It makes the teams simple to spot, saves us from having to dredge out coloured pinneys if we were to divide based on that. Shirts versus skins could pose a problem."

"It's a sound idea in theory - the men versus women, I mean," he said, hesitating slightly "However…"

"Go on."

"Some truly competitive men might be persuaded to forget their chivalry in hopes of playing fairly against a group of random women, but not their princess," he said, before adding with a rakishly handsome half-smile "Unless that's your goal, and you're hoping to win with underhanded tactics."

A great deal of her former disappointment vanished. Maybe he wasn't nervous to the point of not truly being himself after all.

"All right, how about this," she replied "I lead the men's team and you lead the women's. Unless you don't think you're up to beating a team determined to play well for their princess."

"You're on," he snorted "Are we to place bets on it?"

"Alas, I don't carry money. Princesses shouldn't jingle."

"Is that an official rule?" he smirked his amusement.

"I'm working on getting it into the bylaws - the government doesn't see it as a priority, shockingly."

The match began at ten in the morning - early to some, perhaps, but given that plenty gathered had been there since the crack of dawn, it almost felt like it was well into the afternoon by the time Cullen found himself standing opposite Princess Evelyn on the pitch. They were both ill-dressed for something like this, still in their jeans, but it added to the novelty factor, and he rolled his eyes at Rylen when the man visibly struggled to hold back his amusement at what he'd volunteered him for, even as his former brother-in-arms played referee at the side of the pitch. As if it would be a contentious match.

His suspicions as to how Princess Evelyn's presence might rouse the men on her team were already proving true. Long before anybody had much of a chance at all to kick the ball, all of her teammates standing behind her wore looks of smug determination on their faces. It was fine, though, for while Cullen suspected he himself lacked such a motivating factor for the women on his team, seeing all of the men on the other side so visibly certain that they'd beat them was hopefully motivation enough. With all of the tension in the air, it might've been easy to forget that this was just a friendly match and not something linked to the Thedas World Cup.

It was difficult to say whether the cameras incessantly clicking away at the sidelines - some official press, and some just onlookers with their phones - added or hindered that particular sense.

"All right, folks, I want a nice clean match," Rylen called out with no small amount of humour "No scuffles, no trash-talk, no violence."

Those on the sidelines chuckled their amusement.

"No promises," Princess Evelyn called back with a grin.

That earned more laughter still, and Cullen found himself joining in with it. And then Rylen blew the whistle.

It was difficult to say what surprised Cullen more - the fact that she was damn good at the game, or how easy it was for him to start having fun while he played. His team scored a goal within the first minute - and then hers managed two in the twenty minutes that followed. One of which was kicked by the princess herself, between Cullen's legs, and into the goal. She'd punctuated that particular feat with a cheeky wink as she fell back and waited for his team's goalie to put the ball back into play. What was it she'd told him? That she didn't play particularly well? Not well, indeed.

Perhaps that planted the seed of the mortifying disaster that would eventually strike, for it motivated Cullen to turn the tide and win this match. To play her at her own game, and to tease her as she did him. They were perhaps thirty minutes into their forty minute game when it happened.

Darting forward, he kicked the ball towards the goal, but the footing was more perilous than he'd thought thanks to the rain that had drizzled down upon the field the night before. His trainers sunk into a particularly muddy patch, skidding even after he kicked the ball, and his arms immediately flung back to try and help him regain his balance so he mightn't go sprawling into the mud. His relief was short lived, dying as soon as he felt his elbow make contact with somebody's face.

"Oof-"

His heart sank - punctuated by the horrified gasps that emanated from their audience. He knew that voice. Shit. Whirling around, he found Princess Evelyn standing just behind him to his right, hand cradling her nose.

"Oh, shit," he groaned, eyes widening in horror as he turned to her "I'm so sorry- er, are you alright? I didn't know you-"

"I'm fine, don't worry," she waved the hand that had just been at her nose, and his heart stopped simply sinking and began to burrow its way into the ground at their feet when he saw the blood.

A big burly man who had previously just appeared to be one of their guests was striding towards them, but he stopped and promptly u-turned when the princess made eye contact with him and shook her head just slightly.

"Come with me - er, if you'd please, ma'am. We'll see about fixing…this."

"It's because we were winning, wasn't it?" she teased with a wince, returning her hand to cover her nose and following him as he led her to a nearby tent out of sight of all of the bloody cameras.

For lack of less apt phrasing.

Breathing out a surprised laugh, Cullen then cringed and rubbed the back of his neck "You should have seen what I had planned if you scored another goal."

The giggle that drew from her was stuffy-sounding - given that she could not currently breathe through her nose. Thanks to him.

"Loss of limb?" she ventured a guess.

"Hospital stays would have been involved."

They finally stepped inside the first aid tent he'd been leading the way to, and he breathed a sigh of relief when it was empty save for a trestle table, a handful of medical supplies, and a chair.

"Here - if you wouldn't mind," he gestured to the table.

With far less hesitation than he'd expected, she hopped up onto it and allowed him to slowly guide her hand away from her nose. He might not have been a fervent monarchist, or any sort of monarchist for that matter, but the reverence that followed her around had him almost reluctant to touch her - like he should ask for permission before every little thing that he did.

"We've no healers here - not mages, at least," Cullen explained awkwardly "Some of the folk here have a complicated history with magic, so it just seemed best to…well, I'll have to look at it myself. If that's alright."

"At this point I'm afraid to say no," she teased, and then lost her smile when he winced "I'm sorry - just trying to put you at ease."

As she spoke, she began to tilt her head back and Cullen stopped her with a hand at her jaw before he could think better of it.

"Don't tilt your head back, you'll choke," he said.

"I'll get blood all over your lovely charity's t-shirt."

"I will personally see to it that you get another," he snorted, turning to that he could soak some of the cotton balls in water.

The teasing, at least, had put him somewhat more at ease. There was no longer a never-ending slew of vitriol running through his head, insisting that not only had he now sabotaged his secret Inquisition-related goal, but gone and humiliated his very public, very dear charity, too. Still, he could not quite meet her gaze as he turned back to her and began to very gentle wipe the blood away from her face.

It must have been tender, for she flinched slightly at the first few dabs, and her fingertips curled around the edge of the table in an effort to steady herself. Still, she spoke, her breath warm against his hand as she murmured.

"It's really all right, you know. Nobody's about to arrest you for treason."

"I'm Fereldan, I'm not sure they could. Technically speaking."

"Boring old grievous bodily harm, then."

At that he snorted, picking up another cottonball and handing it to her so she could place it beneath her nose. It had stopped steadily streaming blood, but some still dripped out every now and then. The princess seemed largely unbothered by it.

"I don't believe it's broken, but it may bruise," he said, gently placing his fingers at either side of the bridge of her nose and then working them steadily down, feeling the bone carefully while she did her best not to flinch away "You might have to downgrade the charge to actual bodily harm."

"I'll be sure to let my lawyers know."

Cullen chuckled, and then he sighed.

"You know those moments where they happen, and you pause and find yourself having to make peace with the fact that they'll be keeping you awake at night for years to come?" he grumbled.

"When I was twelve I curtseyed to the King at his Jubilee celebrations, lost my balance, and fell over."

"You did not."

"I did! I practised them for an hour a night for the next month afterwards to cope with the humiliation."

"Truly?"

"Perfectionism - 'tis a blessing and a curse. Never wobbled since, though."

"Admirable dedication, I suppose. Especially in one so young."

"Mm. My quads have never been the same since."

He finished cleaning up the last of the blood from the delicate point of her nose, and when he noticed just how white her knuckles had gone he frowned.

"Are you all right?"

"It doesn't hurt too much - just a bit of a throb."

"It's just that you seem, er, out of sorts."

Cullen immediately regretted the words as soon as he'd said them - because of course she was out of sorts, she'd just been smacked in the face by a man who might as well have been twice her size.

"I'm sorry we can't provide more skilled healers," he added.

At his fretting, she finally let go of the edge of the table in favour of squeezing his arm and smiling up at him through a nose full of cotton.

"Cullen, it's fine. We've…we've rather a skilled mage working for us at home. No doubt it'll be sorted by the end of the day."

It was then that a hand snaked into the tent, pulling the flap aside and Aveline ducked her head in, eyeing the two of them with visible concern. It had Cullen feeling distinctly more mortified by everything, but whatever she saw appeared to have calmed her - perhaps content that the princess had not bled to death.

"The car is ready, ma'am."

"All right, thank you Aveline - I'll only be a moment."

Aveline hesitated with a frown; it appeared she didn't want to leave the two of them alone.

"A moment, Aveline," Princess Evelyn reiterated firmly.

The woman hesitated, and then nodded before she took her leave.

"She's very protective of me," she explained sheepishly.

"You're leaving?" Cullen asked "I'm sorry if I-"

"No, no, Cullen - it's fine. Genuinely, absolutely fine. It's just a policy thing from the higher ups in the firm, it's not up to me. The optics wouldn't be great if I spent the rest of the day wandering around being photographed with blood and bruises on me, you know? So I must go."

Cullen sighed, feeling even worse about the whole damn thing now, if that were even possible.

"Don't look so glum," she smiled softly at him, scooting off of the table "This will be all anybody wants to talk about for at least a week. The publicity this will gain you is unmatched."

"I'm still sorry."

"Go out there and announce my glorious sporting victory and we'll call it even," she teased "It was good to see you. No doubt we'll be in touch when we get the particulars of the glitzy shindig all ironed out."

"Er- I was…"

He forced the words out as she stepped towards the tent's exit, and then almost wished he had not when she paused and turned to him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"I was hoping you might let me buy you a coffee or something."

Her eyebrows rose slightly, and he added "To apologise…for…"

Was that disappointment that flickered through her brown eyes for a split second before she regained control of her face? Or had he imagined it?

"I was going to ask anyway," he said "This just seems like a good…opportunit- well, not an opportunity, I'm not sitting here pleased that things happened as they did because of tha- I just…Maker's breath, look, I'm not good at these things in the slightest, but I would just…like to see you again. Preferably without bloodshed involved."

Evelyn's features were often warm - something that always took him aback, because it never seemed feigned, either. With so many public figures, the ones who always smiled and grinned and did their best to seem cheerful and sunny always ended up giving off a distinctly unsettling feeling. Like something out of that film Leliana loved so much, Orlesian Psycho. There was none of that with Evelyn, though, and each time he noticed it he told himself it was merely because he hadn't seen enough of her to see the veneer crack. But he knew his gut instincts were sound, and they told him it wasn't an act. Which was why he didn't know where to look when her lips split into a grin and it was like the sun had come out from behind the clouds on a gloomy day.

"Do you have a phone?" she asked.

"What?"

"A phone. I'll put my number in it and we'll work something out."

"I…is that allowed?"

"I shouldn't think I would have to ask my mummy's permission first," she teased "I won't insult you by insisting you don't share it around on some insipid online forum."

As if he'd know which ones to go on if he wished to do so. Digging his phone from his pocket - his civilian phone, which had nothing sensitive on it - he handed it to her and watched in mild amazement as she typed her number in…with the hand that was not still dabbing at her nostrils. When she handed it back to him, he saw she'd simply put her name down as Eve.

"It might take me a bit to get back to you, Aveline despairs at how little I check my phone, but I'll respond as soon as you see it."

"All right. Thank you. I, er…I look forward to it."

Her smile gained a note of amusement to it then, like she was surprised to hear that fact. And then she was gone.

Evelyn was bundled into a great big parka jacket with a fur-lined hood so that she could slip out of the event and into the sleek black car that awaited her. Doing her best not to touch the fine leather interior with her bloodied hands, she scooted along and waited until Aveline slipped in and the door was firmly shut behind her before she lifted her head. The windows of the car were totally blacked out - every so often during a slow news week, some journalist would publish a so-called think piece on whether it was fair for the Royal Family to have access to vehicles with completely blacked out windows while civilians weren't legally allowed such a luxury. Today those windows were coming in handy.

"Jack, can you put the partition up, please," Evelyn called to the driver.

He complied with little more than a nod.

"I'm sorry, Your Royal Highness, but that was far too close a call," Aveline fretted, shaking her head.

"The only thing close about it was how worried we looked," Evelyn countered "I kept almost shying away from him as he cleaned me up."

"With good reason, ma'am!" Aveline all but hissed.

Despite knowing that nobody could see, she still felt much too exposed sitting up like this. Easing herself out of the parka, she discarded it to the floor of the car and then sidled down in her seat until she was out of sight of any of the windows. From there, she slowly began to ease the cotton away from her nostrils. She could feel her heart pounding in her nose - it wasn't a sensation that lended itself to staying calm.

"There was no good reason, Aveline."

"He's a former Templar."

"Former. He no longer even takes lyrium."

"It may still be in his system. Residual amounts. I've done the reading on it - respectfully, ma'am."

"Even so, they can't sense anything in the blood - that's just an old wives' tale. It'd be much easier for them to weed us out otherwise. Why do you think they have to rely on catching us actually using magic?"

As she spoke, she brought both hands up to her nose, pressing her fingertips down on either side of it, and drove healing magic into the bruise before it could even fully form.