Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry, I do not understand,” Cullen had been buried in paperwork on troop deployments and field supplies; the Inquisitor was due back that night from the Fallow Mire, there were some visiting dignitaries that had Josephine in a tizzy, and he still had to do training with the rebel mages, because if they were stuck with a mage army by god they were going to know how to throw a damn punch if their magic failed them.

He did not have time for Mother Giselle’s false serenity.

And he had been spending too much time with Adaar, because he was sure it was a natural serenity borne of belief in the maker and certainly in their path.

He used to have certainty.

But also Adaar was right - Mother Giselle’s smile was annoying. And he did not have time for annoyances. He looked down at the letter in her hand. “If it is about the inner circle, you should bring it up with Adaar upon his return.”

“But this missive was not directed to him, but to you as the Commander. It raises concerns about Dorian. Concerns I share, and I know you do as well.”

Cullen’s hands folded over top the pommel of his sword. It was a natural resting place, a stance he had all the time and she wouldn’t know the difference. But Adaar, his officers knew, to check which hand was on bottom, to see if he was just resting or ready to draw. 

He was ready to draw.

“Concerns?” Cullen kept his voice calm. He held out a hand for the letter. He read it twice. “No, denied.”

“Commander,” she began.

“Denied.” Cullen went back to his desk and pretended to read another report. She wasn’t leaving, just standing there with that annoying calm of hers. “What?” he snapped and she raised a brow. She was waiting for him to apologize for snapping and he did not have the time to placate her. “What?” he repeated.

“Commander, this is an opportunity. You can repair a familial rift - I know how important family is to you. And also perhaps quell growing rumours. You have to see that having a Tevinter magister in the inner circle is not the best for the Inquisition. It is still in a fragile place.”

Cullen did not correct her by saying Dorian was an altus; no one was bothering to remember the difference except a handful of them. “Why didn’t Magister Pavus direct this to the Inquisitor?”

“He thought that the Commander of the armies was the best person to address concerns to about Dorian’s…instability.”

“Fickle, feckless, reckless and contrarian personality were I believe the words the letter used.” And the Dorian that Cullen knew was none of those things. 

Well, he was all of those things, but not to the extent the letter suggested, and certainly in no way that harmed the inquisition. 

“You read it more carefully than I realized.”

Why did people outside the inner circle always assume that he was dim witted? Cullen didn’t react to the subtle insult buried in Mother Giselle’s words, and instead focused on what was bothering him. “No, he told you to approach me because he wouldn’t consider Adaar worthy of approach, not a qunari. And this is the man you want me to take Altus Pavus to? Let me guess, without informing the Inquisitor until after the fact?”

“If Dorian chooses to leave, I hardly think our Inquisitor would begrudge him that. I know you see it is best for all involved. Dorian has expressed interest in teaching the mages, and I am sure you, more than anyone, can see the danger in that.”

“Hmm.”

“I know you guard the magister well. I have see your cold glances, and that you have arranged the chess games to keep an eye on him. To protect the Inquisition. I know you will do the right thing, Commander.” She gave a bow and left.

In an instant Cullen decided he hated her. And also that she was an idiot for how she had misread Dorian, Cullen, Adaar. She thought she played the game well. Cullen tilted his head. “Little bird, fly to Leliana tell her I will be by anon. I wish to discuss this with her.” He heard a curse and a scurry off his roof. Spying on him was part of their training and this one would going back to the beginning of their lessons with how poorly they had done.

He finished up a few things that needed to be signed off on and went to the top of a tower that had yet to be repaired, where he and Leliana met to occasionally make the hard decisions from the shadows. Leliana was waiting, reading a book. “I have reassigned them,” she said. Her gaze met his and she was smirking a bit. “Because either you are getting better at noticing my spies, or they were that poor at the job.”

“I assure you, I am as oblivious to my surroundings as ever,” his voice was drier than the Hissing Wastes. “Were you informed?”

“Mother Giselle oversteps, trying to move us like chess pieces, thinking she has Josephine’s subtlety, and is barely as good as Varric.” Leliana flipped a page in her book and gestured to the windowsill, the only other place to sit in the broken room. 

He leaned and laughed a bit, “Varric doesn’t play the game the way Orlesian’s do, that doesn’t mean he isn’t playing a very good one.”

“True, you grow keener.”

“Keen enough.” From her it didn’t feel like an insult, just a statement. He hated politics but had been trying to observe more, be better about seeing the larger picture. Focusing on the trees before, had meant he hadn’t noticed the forest burning around him. “Mother Giselle carried the implication that this should be kept from the Inquisitor until after the meeting; the letter says not to tell Dorian because his stubborn and willful nature would have him rejecting the meeting outright, when Magister Pavus just wants to make amends for a foolish disagreement that Dorian has blown out of proportion.”

Leliana simply held a hand out and he gave her the letter. He watched her read it, and the light from the missing ceiling caught against her skin in a way that reminded him. They never talked about before, about Kinloch. He wondered if maybe they should, they had both loved Amell in their ways. But his had been a crush and hers true, and he felt it wrong to intrude on the grief that still lingered in her eyes. Cullen wondered who Leliana would have been if Amell hadn’t sacrificed herself. 

“This is a trap.”

“I know.”

“But it isn’t a Venatori one.”

“That is my sense as well. This is entirely personal. Magister Pavus does not like his son.”

“No, but in the Imperium heirs are even more vital than they are in the rest of Thedas. He might be offering enough to convince Dorian to return to the fold. Dorian does complain about the south a fair bit. He will have a price and perhaps his father will meet it.”

“He will not,” Cullen swore. “Do not make the mistake for falling for Dorian’s prattle. He is playing a part.”

“Cullen,” there was pity in Leliana’s voice.

He held up a hand and she quieted. “Can your people stake out the area, confirm it is not tied to the Venatori at all? It says the retainer will be there for a week, and it is a short enough journey we can take the time to be sure.” She nodded at that. “Good. I need your advice though. Who do I tell first, the Inquisitor or Dorian?”

“The letter says not too,” Leliana’s voice was prim, and they both laughed. “The Inquisitor,” she replied, “yes this is Dorian’s personal life, but Adaar is the one who will decide how it plays out.”

Cullen had to agree to that, no matter that he wanted to tell Dorian right away. “I’ll send him a note saying I cannot make our chess game, he’d read the secret too easily on my face.”

“He would.” Leliana stood. “Cullen.”

“No advice, please,” Cullen said. He looked at her, and that grief was there in her eyes. “I know well enough the folly of falling in love in wartime.” He left, not being able to bear looking at her eyes any longer. He went back to his tower and worked, a runner taking the note to Dorian. Luckily Dorian was able to read the tone of the message and didn’t come by to cajole him into a break as he sometimes did. 

It was late the sunlight almost gone when the horn called out, signaling the arrival home of the Inquisitor. Cullen hurried down to the gate to greet them as he always did, ready to guide medics, deal with the cart of weapons they they always brought home with them. They all looked rather miserable, but the Mire was a miserable place. Cullen flagged a servant down, “Prepare the baths. hot water, plenty of soap, and mugs of cold ale, plates of food for them to eat while they soak.” The servant hurried away and Cullen stepped forward to help Sera down from her horse.

“I can do it myself,” she muttered and stuck out her tongue. Cullen waited as she tried to move, and it was clear her legs were numb. Months and she still wasn’t used to riding. He waited for the nod and helped her down. “Shut it.”

“I won’t say a word.” Cullen smiled a bit. “Word.”

She punched him and he knew there was a prank ahead in his future but she was also smiling a little bit at the absurdity. Adaar was already down and gesturing as he spoke, the man could not stay still, and Cullen could see one of his dual blades had broken on the trip. He’s make sure they had a good supply of everite for repairs. Solas gave him a nod and appeared as collected as ever, and Blackwall looked content something clutched tightly in his hand.

“Welcome home, all,” Cullen declared. “The baths are being readied. Food will be brought to you. Go.”

“We look that bad?” Adaar snorted a bit. “Smell that bad?”

“Yes,” Dorian said as he went down the steps. “I can smell you from here.”

Adaar’s laugh was as huge as it always was and made everyone around smile a bit. The Inquisitor had a charm that was half the reason they were as successful as they were. Dorian continued over to them, and Cullen saw a stable hand about to walk deliberately into Dorian. He glared, molten, angry that somehow word had not gotten to this new lad that Dorian was to be unmolested under order of the Commander. He saw Cullen’s gaze and quickly took a wide pass. Dorian looked disappointed for a moment and Cullen couldn’t understand why, but soon enough Dorian and Adaar were headed into the keep.

“You might want to lock that all in, before quizzie gets there first,” Sera whispered loudly enough that everyone around them was covering a laugh.

“Sera,” Cullen smiled a bit, “we are not in competition for Dorian.”

“Sure you are, look at the way they smile at each other. That would be your smile if you got off yer arse.”

Cullen knew there was no threat from their friendship, not with the calf eyes that the Inquisitor always gave Josephine in the war room. He moved on, stopped by the training grounds to help with the lessons, and one mage actually managed to land a credible punch. When he went to the great hall to have food, Mother Giselle caught his eye with a raised brow. He gave a nod and ignored the flash of triumph in her gaze before it went back to its serene regular gaze.

Andraste save him, that he wanted to push one of her great priests off the battlement walls.

But then history had shown, he had never been meant to be a good man.

*

Cullen looked at the map as they all agreed where to send troops over the next fortnight, and dealt with some interesting information that Adaar had picked up in their travels. He was studiously avoiding the conversation that he needed to have with Adaar, but there was nothing else but that conversation left. Leliana was giving him pointed looks, and Josephine clearly knew that something was up.

“Nice brooch, Josephine, new?” That was a good distraction.

“Yes, it was sent in the packages clearly trying to gain our favour from Rivani. A touch…bold for my tastes, but pirates do tend to like shiny things.”

He saw the wince that Adaar tried to hide. It would help if the man told Josephine that all the trinkets came from him, but then one he’d have to tell Josephine they were looted off of corpses, and two admit his feelings for their diplomat. He should of course, Cullen saw the way Josephine’s gaze was drawn to him in the dining hall that she left her office to watch when Adaar trained with him.

But Cullen was the last person in the world to give romantic advice. “It suits you,” Cullen said, “as bold as you are underneath those manners and polite words.”

“I thank you, Commander. But I feel like you are delaying a conversation.”

“Josie can be trusted,” Leliana said softly.

“I know that,” Cullen snapped and then rubbed his neck. “I know that. But this? Him?”

“What is going on?” Adaar looked at him. “Something happened.”

“Magister Pavus got in touch with Mother Giselle, who in turn approached me. There are machinations to remove Dorian from the inner circle.” Cullen explained the situation and Adaar looked increasingly pissed off, and Josephine was taking furious notes. Cullen shrugged, “I thought about killing the messenger, but did not.”

“Thank you, for that,” Adaar sighed, “at least wait until I am around to help make it look like an accident - I am better at that than you.”

“Gentlemen,” Josephine looked scandalized, “Mother Giselle is a good woman!”

“Ehh,” Leliana muttered and wiggled her hand. Cullen snickered a bit, and then composed himself because Josephine had an impressive glare.

“You will not harm one of the few voices in the chantry that has been instrumental in securing our status,” Josephine pointed her quill at them both. “I expect disrespect to the chantry from the Inquisitor, but Cullen, you?”

“She is half the reason that some people around her do not give Dorian the credit and respect he deserves.” Cullen pointed a finger right back. “People see the way that she refuses to talk to him, looks down her nose at him and they figure it is fair game to spit as he walks by, say petty and vicious things. So yes, when she insults a man that gave us enough warning that we didn’t all die at Haven, a man who researches tirelessly for answers, and has saved the Inquisitor’s life in the field more than once, yes I suppose I will disrespect the chantry then.”

The silence in the room was painful, but he would not apologize. “Dorian lost everything. Money, position, power. He lost all of that, and still chose to come here. Where he had to know how he’d be treated, but he came and he helps, and she wants him thrown away like trash. He is not trash.”

“He is not,” Josephine agreed, “and it is wrong that he is treated like that. Perhaps we can -”

“I have taken care of it, for the most part,” Cullen dismissed, “I keep my mage safe.”

“Your mage?” Leliana was moving pieces on the map. 

“My mage,” Cullen growled, and he felt Adaar’s hand on his shoulder.

“Cullen, if you want him to be yours you should probably tell him?” 

Cullen was going to ignore that because just as he wouldn’t give Adaar advice about Josephine, so he wouldn’t take advice about Dorian. He looked at Adaar, “I will not let them push him out of his home.”

“Nor will I,” Adaar said, as Cullen knew he would, but it was a relief to hear those words. “They say to not tell Dorian, so clearly we will.”

“Clearly.”

“Does Mother Giselle really hate him so much?” Josephine looked heartbroken. “He brought me candied almonds back from Val Royeaux, to cheer me up, because he remembered me idly mentioning them one dinner, and thought I had been looking a little weary.”

“He is a good man, under all that bluster,” Adaar agreed. “I’ll bring you back a sackful next time we are there.”

“No, my lord inquisitor, please do not trouble yourself. I know you are allergic and don’t want you to suffer.”

“You know I am allergic?” Adaar looked so happy that Josephine had noticed something like that.

“Maker save me from all of you,” Leliana muttered. “My spies will be in Redcliffe soon I imagine. Prepare Dorian and I will let you know when you can leave to see this done.” She left them and Josephine excused herself as well. Cullen and Adaar stared at each other.

“Game of chess for who has to actually tell Dorian?” Adaar suggested.

“Surely you are not scared of him, Inquisitor?”

“I have seen him on the battlefield, Commander, I am absolutely scared of him.”

“Then allow me the task, since it was mine anyways.”

“It would also be nice to play chess with you.”

Cullen smiled a bit. “I would enjoy that as well.” They left the room. “The pin was quite nice.”

“Found it in a loot chest, I never give Josie anything off a dead person.” Adaar sounded incredibly proud of himself. “I feel she would take it the wrong way. But speaking of dead people finds - here.” Adaar gave him a bit of leather and Cullen unwrapped it.

“Very nice,” Cullen crooned. It was a gorgeous boot dagger, thin, deadly, a simple handle. This was no fops fake weapon, it was intended to save your life. He slid it into his boot where he could barely feel its presence. “My thanks.”

“I swear, everyone says I am in charge, but I keep bringing back finds like a loyal mabari.”

“I knew a man once, a prat, he was such a prat, but he said that the Maker would see us learn from the mabari.” They continued walking to the gardens, and Adaar threw an arm across Cullen’s shoulder, two weary soldiers who appreciated each other’s company. “There are worse things to be like, Inquisitor.”

“I suppose there are.” Adaar sighed, “Dorian is going to be furious, and the fallout will be painful.”

“I will bear the weight of it, if he’ll let me.”

“If he lets you.”

Cullen opened the door to the garden. “He is not leaving us.”

“I know,” Adaar said, “Mother Giselle might think there is a price or something that could pull him away from here. But there isn’t - he’d only leave by force.”

“I will not let that happen.” Cullen set out the chess pieces. “I am coming along to meet this retainer.”

“Is that the best idea?” Adaar looked up, and Cullen wondered what the Inquisitor was reading on his face. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Three sacks of candied almonds for Josie, to make up for the international incident that is likely to happen.”

“They will not have him.” Cullen made the first move.

“I know,” Adaar reassured yet again, and moved the next piece. They settled into the game to give them a moment before they told Dorian that his father was looking for him. They finished the game, and for all that Cullen was willing to be the one to tell Dorian, perhaps Adaar was right to be a bit nervous.

"It really makes sense to wait until we here from Leliana's people it is safe - Dorian will ride out the instant he finds out," Cullen said after a moment.

"I agree, excellent strategic thinking Commander." Adaar looked relieved at the reprieve. "Another game of chess?" Adaar was drumming his fingers on the table - this had been a long time for the man to sit still, and Cullen was finding himself restless from the lingering anger at Mother Giselle.

They met each other's gaze and hurried to the training grounds.

Chapter Text

Dorian was vaguely aware of the giggling as people hurried out of the rotunda but ignored it as he was busy with a box of books that had arrived. Maker bless Adaar that Dorian just had to whisper a desire for certain books and they appeared. The library here was finally starting to be something of note. He was perhaps creating his own filing system, because frankly the world was better off if he decentralized the importance of chantry personal journals. Mother Giselle had come by once and moved the books back according to the chantry system of sorting, and he had perhaps whispered under his breath to make it sound like he was readying a particularly nasty spell. In reality it was a Tevene recipe for cookies - he didn’t even know why he knew that, but he had always read everything he could and random bits stuck. It was enough to cause her to flee and not darken his door again.

It was so easy to torment Southerners.

He hummed contentedly to himself as he put books on the shelf, taking a break occasionally, until he heard a small cough behind him. He turned and smiled. “Josie, to what do I owe this pleasure?” He had not expected friendship with the Inquisition’s diplomat, but they had bonded over missing the warmth and foods of their respective homelands. But Josephine looked upset. He guided her to the chair he spent hours in when Adaar didn’t drag him around half of Thedas. “What is wrong, dear one?” He knelt next to her and held her hand. “Did you find out that the gifts Adaar leaves you are from corpses? I always make him wash them first.”

“What corpses? What gifts?” 

Fade take it, the most astute woman on the planet stilled hadn’t realized all the trinkets were from the Inquisitor. “Never mind, thinking about The Iron Bull and that kitchen maid.”

“They are charming together,” Josephine smiled a bit, “but Dorian why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Josephine was giving him a look like he was being deliberately dense but he honestly wasn’t sure what she might be speaking about. “My piercings, my tattoos, that one masquerade ball? Or should I say balls?” That got him another laughed, and it smoothed her brow a bit. Good, she had enough to deal with. “My dear Josephine, I am eternally an open book to you. And in fact, I have a book for you. Antivan poetry, a writer you mentioned that you found invigorating.” He dug through the box and handed her a slim volume. “I think you will enjoy it.”

“How can she dislike you, when you do things like this?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Dorian why didn’t you tell me that Mother Giselle treats you poorly? I would have interceded.”

Ah, that tell Josephine what. “It wasn’t a problem.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“It has been less of a problem recently. I assumed the Inquisitor spoke to a few people. Now it is mostly just sneering, and with how cold it is here their faces will freeze like that so just desserts.” Dorian couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “I am fine.”

“Are you?”

“I am fine enough, which when there is a hole in the sky and ancient evil determined to kill us all, is more than fine really.” Dorian would have said more but Vivienne poked her head through the door that connected their different areas in the keep.

“Darlings, I suggest you join me for the entertainment. I have wine being delivered.”

Well now that was intriguing. Dorian had had drinks with Vivienne before, usually when her tailor stopped by and she was in a good enough mood to share the man. She was seldom in a good enough mood. But it seemed today she was. Only up in her area there were no fabric bolts, no fussy man with that tape measure of his, but her doors were flung wide open and Dorian could hear shouting from outside.

“A fight? You called us to watch a fight?” Vivienne was generally not one for a cheap display like that. “I have books to organize.”

“Trust me my dears, this is no ordinary squabble.” She sauntered out to the balcony and Josephine followed probably telling herself it was to make sure she could stay on top of any altercations that needed smoothing over. Well, he wasn’t going to be left out of whatever absurd barbaric display was occurring. He joined them on the balcony and could see a decently large group gathered around the training ring. Varric was clearly taking bets and Bull shouting about, Sera on his shoulder. 

And in the ring were Adaar and the Commander. They had clearly already been at it for a while and both were down to shirtsleeves. Cullen swung his sword and he watched as Adaar leaped back, so graceful for his size.

“Oh my, I didn’t realize that the Inquisitor was so light on his feet,” Josephine’s breath caught.

“Yes, I have to admit I am always surprised how quietly he moves on the battlefield,” Vivienne agreed.

Dorian gave her a bit of a look. “Yes it is shocking that the very successful mercenary might be good at his job.” She gave a small nod in acknowledgment of her prejudice and he returned his gaze to the field. “The one that surprises me is the commander.”

“How so?” Josephine was leaning as far as she dared over the balcony to watch. “He has been training to be a warrior since he was child.”

“Thirteen,” Dorian corrected as he watched Cullen pivot hard and duck under a swing of Adaar’s. “In a particular way - templars fight in very specific patterns. Bull talks about it when bored the different fighting techniques we have gathered.” He gestured at how Cullen was moving, not quite like a rogue, but not with the steady determination of fellow sword and board fighter Cassandra. For a moment he wondered where he had picked up such a phrase and dismissed it. “He isn’t using the shield the way he used to, even a few months ago. He’s been paying attention to the different fighters. Learning. Makes him difficult to anticipate on the field. Usually someone trained as rigidly as he would have been cannot change like that.”

“You are paying attention to the Commander.”

It was obvious to hear the bait in Vivienne’s voice. Time away from court had dulled her abilities a bit. Or she wanted him to hear the bait. It kept them on their toes challenging each other.

“With his rumoured history, it felt important to pay attention.”

“He is not who he once was,” Josephine said quietly. “None of us are.”

“No, end of the world will change you like that.” Dorian watched them, and they were clearly having a grand time on the field. Was that why Cullen had canceled chess yesterday - he had been too impatient to see Adaar again? But Cullen knew - all of Skyhold except Josephine knew - that Adaar was completely infatuated with their diplomat. He just figured no one of her refinement would be interested in a Qunari mercenary no matter how much Dorian tried to convince him to go for it.

“Well, then, my gracious, is that a templar fighting tactic?” Josephine asked as Cullen dove, rolled, and pulled Adaar’s breeches down. The crowd roared and laughed as soon the men were just wrestling in the grass and mud. “They seem very invigorated.”

Dorian tried to make Cullen’s breeches slide off with his mind, but they seemed to be staying in place. Cullen pinned Adaar and pulled a thin blade from his boot and held it hard to the Inquisitor’s neck, a snarl in his voice. The whole crowd froze and Dorian could see mages readying to blast the Commander away. But then Adaar let loose with that laugh of his, and Cullen’s joined in. Adaar pushed Cullen and they both lay there clearly trying to catch their breath.

“I do believe the show is over, darlings,” Vivienne moved back inside. “Wine?”

“Thank you,” Josephine sat primly on the chair. “They put on quite a display.”

“Brute force always appeals to the masses,” Vivienne smirked a bit. “Reminds them that their figureheads are not all talk. Dorian?”

“Thank you for the offer, but the library needs me.” Dorian gave them a bow and headed back to the sanctuary of his nook. Usually the chance for genteel gossip was too good to pass up, but he felt something in his bones. And didn’t that make him sound like their blacksmith with his superstitions. But still he felt it.

And he was not surprised when the Inquisitor and Cullen could be heard on the steps coming towards him. Whatever had them both coming to him was bad. He had only a moment but it was enough. He let himself be weak, feel every bad thought about himself that he had ever had, and prepared to be abandoned yet again. And when they were at the top of the stairs he was putting a book away, looking calm and as if everything was a grand joke. “Now that is a lot of handsome darkening my doorway. Looking for a book to read? Might I recommend -” Dorian stopped talking. The Inquisitor looked nervous and the Commander stoic. “I’m leaving aren’t I?” he meant to make it sound like he didn’t care but it came out wounded. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I was recently thinking -” Bugger, he couldn’t even come up with a good excuse. “I don’t want to go,” he pleaded.

He was humiliated. He put a book carefully back on the shelf.

“You are not going anywhere.”

Dorian blinked, he had not ever heard Cullen sound like that before, not even when leading men in the charge at Haven. He sounded, well honestly, he sounded like one of the dog lord barbarian’s in Varric’s more lurid work. Not that he had ever borrowed those books from Cassandra, of course.

“This is your home, Dorian, as long as you want it to be. I’d be lost without your fireballs, corpses, and friendship.” Adaar paused, “I should have said friendship before corpses shouldn’t have I?”

“Never change, my friend. What is this about then?”

“Your father sent a letter,” the Inquisitor was holding it in his hand. “He wants to arrange a meeting.”

“What?” Dorian reached out. “Let me see that.” He skimmed it, and none of it made any sense. He read it again as he paced in his small nook. “I know my son? He knows fuck all.” Dorian sniffed the paper, licked it.

“That’s a new one,” Adaar laughed and it was an awkward fake noise, so unlike the generally happy Inquisitor. “Does it taste like despair? I know there is a ham that tastes like despair.”

“He is checking if it has been laced with a binding spell.”

Dorian looked at Cullen, “Exactly so. But that is rare magic, not something generally known about in the south.”

“Kirkwall knew all sorts of interesting things,” was Cullen’s reply.

“You know, I honestly cannot picture you in Kirkwall. It is so very brazen.” Dorian actually paused what he was going to tease next when he saw the shadows pass over Cullen’s gaze. Varric had warned not to poke that particular bear and while Dorian seldom listened to advice, he had listened to that. “But you are correct that is what I was checking for. Just a letter.”

“A trap,” Adaar said.

“No,” Dorian looked at it. “Or maybe it is. I would have said my father wouldn’t do that. But it turns out he’ll do a lot of things. Right, let’s go then. Meet this retainer and tell them to shove off.” Dorian looked at Adaar. “I know this is a lot to ask, but could I pick who travels with us?” He did not want Blackwall with them on this journey.

“You can pick one of the ones to come along,” Adaar glanced over, “the other rider is already chosen.”

Luckily Dorian had always been quick on his feet. “Commander, are you worried about little old me? Want to make sure -” he was about to say that the Inquisition got rid of him, because he had seen the cold glances and glares that Cullen had tossed in his direction. The confounded him with how warm the man was when they played chess. They hurt, if he was willing to be honest with himself. Which he desperately tried not to be.

“That is right,” Cullen nodded and his hands were on his sword, in the way that Dorian knew meant he was ready to draw. “I want to make sure that this retainer understands that you are a valued member of our cause, and if they think they can just come by and attempt to take away my mage, I will make them wish they were in the hands of the qun’s re-educators. Excuse me now, I have to prepare my team for me to be gone a couple of days.”

“I want to leave now,” Dorian protested. He wanted this done with, get rid of whatever servant his father had sent.

“And you will wait two hours. Leliana’s spies should have word back to us shortly. If we leave after we’ve eaten the evening meal, we can reach a good distance, camp, and be there in late morning. Leave now, you arrive at night, weary and give others an advantage over you.”

Cullen made a fair point. “Very well.” Dorian looked down at the letter and with a flick of his fingers he had burned it away. “But I leave in two hours whether you are with me or not. And I want Varric along as well.”

“Varric?” it was funny that Adaar and Cullen said that in unison.

“We are meeting in the tavern room of an inn - if anyone can get us out of a situation going to shit in there it would be Varric.” Adaar nodded in agreement and with a squeeze to his shoulder was gone. But the commander lingered. “Yes?” Dorian wanted to go to his room and scream for half of the time that was alloted. 

“If this is a trap - I swear that they will not take you.” Cullen did that thing with his hand over his heart all the Fereldens did when they were making a sincere and honourable promise. It was an absurd gesture, if this retainer offered them the right amount of supplies or information, Cullen would hand him over in a second, as well as the head of an army should. “They will not have my mage. Your father threw you away, he does not get to have you back when you have been claimed by another.”

“Are you going to tattoo Property of the Inquisition on me, Commander?” Dorian teased.

“No,” Cullen laughed a bit. “I don’t think we’ll have to go to those lengths. Two hours and we will depart.” The was an almost bow. “And my apologies for canceling our chess game. I received the letter yesterday and even though it was your personal business -”

“It had to be discussed with Adaar first.” Dorian could understand that well enough. Personal business that could impact the Inquisition was in fact not personal business. Once Cullen had left Dorian hurried to his room and he didn’t scream for an hour but he definitely made use of his silencing barriers for several minutes. Then he set to practical matters, packing a small kit because he was not going to meet a representative of his father’s looking anything less than perfect. Then we carefully went through all his jewelry that he had collected himself, that Adaar had given him. It was hard to decide whether it was important to wear enchanted pieces that would bolster his defenses or let him annihilate an attack. In the end he went with defense. He went to the corner of the room. He had five staffs now. Back home he had always had one, and only one  - you had a signature piece, it defined you. Was shaped to your magic; it was supposed to be an extension of your very soul.

And once he had to start regularly fighting for his life, for the lives of people who had become friends he realized it was bullshit. You used what was best for the task. A desert ice or lightning. The Hinterlands spirit, Storm Coast fire. It was a tool, just as Cassandra’s sword, Sera’s bow. He worked with Dagna for little tweaks to suit his needs, improve healing, decrease the cost of mana for a spell. But he didn’t need a signature tool - he needed to stay alive. 

He decided on the staff that looked rough, a poor hedge mage’s tool. It was a fucking beast that quickened his spells and also was sturdy enough that a hit with it had knocked down a bloody giant. He packed a spare set of robes, ones he had had from Vivienne’s tailor and thought he should go down an eat. There were the usual stares and sneers which were easily ignored and Mother Giselle looking as sanctimonious as ever. He sat well away from her, with a few of the chargers who always welcomed him. Bull had suggested he’d be able to join the company when all this was done, and he considered it some days. But then some he didn’t figure he’d live through this. What would happen would happen.

Dorian ate a bit, not wanting to travel with no food in his system, but it was difficult to choke it down. Adaar came down from his rooms and started to head out. Dorian pushed his plate away and followed.

Mother Giselle stood and came over to him. “Magister Pavus, safe travels wherever they take you. May the maker’s grace finally fill your heart.”

Dorian smiled at her. “You are too kind,” was all he said and gave a polite bow. He straightened and Cullen was there with that death glare of his. The one he always gave Dorian in public. 

“Mother Giselle, your words are indeed kind, but since we will all be back in three days at most, they are hardly warrant such an expansive farewell.”

“I just meant -” she was smiling.

“I am well aware what you mean, but I think you grievously misunderstand what I mean. We will talk about it upon my return. If Leliana hasn’t already educated you in our absence.” Cullen strode out without another word or glance at anyone. Adaar huffed a bit but followed, and Dorian followed them.

Varric was waiting at the entrance. “So a job with Curly huh? This is going to be interesting.”

“Yes, interesting is certainly the word for it.” They walked down the steps and Varric was prattling on, but Dorian tuned it out, watched Cullen mount his horse. He thought he understand the man, but he was realizing that he perhaps didn’t understand him very well at all. “Varric?” They mounted their horses but stayed a bit behind Adaar and Cullen who clearly were wrapped up in conversation. 

“Yeah?”

Dorian looked at him. “Who is he?”

“What do you mean?”

“Cullen, who is he?”

“Depends on the day, I suppose.” Varric was giving him that cunning look. “Who do you think he is?”

“Our commander,” Dorian said after a moment, “a soldier, a templar because even if he is off lyrium, has hung up the uniform, he is a templar.”

“You know about the lyrium?”

“He doesn’t smell like the other templars.” Dorian kept watching Cullen’s back. “He is - I don’t know.” Dorian heard a caw and looked at the ravens flying above them, carrying so many secrets. “Is he so different from before, in Kirkwall?”

“Yes. And no. The resolute is the same. The honour. The determination to do right. I didn’t like him back then, because Hawke didn’t like him, because he wasn’t likable, because he was an asshole to mages. But we also didn’t see how Meredith was manipulating him, how he was just as broken as we were.”

“He hates mages.”

“He thinks he should hate mages, and that is worse. Or better. He has a focus, a terrifying focus. And when that settles on a path he is difficult to move. He just picked the wrong path for a long time. And now he is trying to find his way to the right one. Like most of us.” Varric sighed, “Sparkler?”

“Yes?” He was trying to make all the pieces fit together and it was difficult.

“Be nice if he had someone who could light that path for him. Perhaps someone who had fire at their fingertips.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Which is going to play well when I write this. Crowds love that oblivious shit. But you need to open your eyes and light that path before he takes a wrong turn again.” Varric whistled and his horse picked up speed. He went next to Adaar and Cullen fell back. 

With a large smirk on his face. “And you heard every word of that didn’t you?”

“Not every word,” Cullen replied and laughed, and the waning sun lit him up and he was beautiful. “I missed a half dozen or so.”

“If we had met in Kirkwall -”

Cullen looked at him. “You know the answer to that well enough. It is an unpleasant answer.”

“I want you to say it.”

“If I had met you anytime before my last year there, I would have turned you in without question. I likely would have overseen your execution - Meredith would have not let a necromancer live.”

It hurt, but Dorian appreciated that he didn’t lie. “And that last year.”

“I didn’t help the rebellion, but I knew something was wrong in our ranks. I know the well was poisoned. There were several I should have brought in and didn’t. Doors got left unlocked. It wasn’t enough for all that I had done, I was no hero, but I started to try to find the right path, to use Varric’s phrasing.” Cullen rubbed his neck. “I actually want to speak to you about our mages. They are poor fighters, and I want you to help me teach them.”

“You have incredibly powerful mages in your forces, Commander.”

“Who think a staff can’t do anything but channel magic, who think a fist is only for elemental magic. Maker, the only reason I wish Hawke was here was that at least that man through a punch or knife as much as he did a fireball. They need that adaptability.”

Dorian laughed. “You want me to train your scared little rabbits to be battle mages.”

“Yes, I do. I look forward to working with your Dorian. Though it will tear you away from your books a bit. We’ll spend more time together. If you can tolerate it.”

“I can,” Dorian said softly. “If you can.”

Cullen just smiled at him and they rode in silence until they camped. Dorian couldn’t stop watching the way their small fire lit Cullen’s cheekbones as they all tried to give Adaar advice on courting Josephine. Well Cullen didn’t.

“Come on Curly, you have to have some advice for our man here.”

“No offense, but I am not trusting the advice of a man who sent me a formal petition to court a member of Skyhold in absence of family to approach. Especially when I signed off on the form months ago and he has done nothing.”

Dorian rubbed a hand over his heart at the thought of Cullen courting someone at Skyhold. Whomever it was better be worthy or he’d light them on fire.

“I will court them when the time is right. When they are ready.” Cullen poked at the fire a bit. “And not a minute sooner.”

“Well, they’ll be lucky to have you with those shoulders and that firm grip on your sword.” Dorian tried to tease as he normally would. “I need to sleep. Tomorrow will be a lot and I need to look well rested for it. Who am I sharing with?”

“Me,” Adaar said and pointed to a tent.

Dorian went in and curled into a ball. Cullen wanted to court someone. Seemed like Varric was wrong, he didn’t need to light a path for Cullen at all. He cast a small wisp into the air and watched the light dance on the tent walls. He eventually slept, and was relieved that it was dreamless.

Chapter Text

Cullen didn’t like Redcliffe. Yes, he knew it was because of Kinloch Hold, but also he just didn’t like the layout. Too many corners and spots for people to hide with the way everything was organized. His eyes kept assessing where threats could be hidden and if it came to it, it would be a hard fight out of the village with the likelihood of civilian casualties.

“Varric, go low and around to the back of inn,” Adaar ordered quietly as they tethered their horses. “I don’t smell any red lyrium, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t an ambush of the regular sort waiting for us.”

“You can smell red lyrium?” That hadn’t been in any of the Inquisitor’s reports and Cullen gave him a look. “That is information I needed.”

“I don’t know if I am smelling it, hearing it. I’ve just killed enough infected with it, I’m in tune with it.” Adaar bit his lip. “And I’m scared that -”

Cullen went over and stood on tiptoes to cup Adaar’s neck. He leaned in and yes it was a bit gross but sniffed the man’s neck, his armpit. “No, you aren’t infected.” He licked Adaar just to be sure. “Not even a little. Because if there was a drop of lyrium blue or red in you, I would sense it. Lyrium sits wrong in non mages, in the skin, in their sweat. It doesn’t particularly want to be in us. Why it doesn’t bother me in Dorian’s skin. It fits there, settles into the blood stream and then disappears. You are not infected. Likely it is the mark, one oddity hearing the other.”

“Thank you,” Adaar was clearly relieved. “If I was also infected with red lyrium, that would have been bad.”

“Very bad,” Cullen agreed. He turned to Dorian. “What?”

“You licked the Inquisitor in public! That will start rumours. What if they get back to Josephine?” Dorian was glaring at him, and shit that was a good point. Cullen would not ruin the Inquisitor’s chances with the woman he was mad for. Cullen saw the crowd watching them, and just shrugged and went over, licked Dorian’s neck as well. “Commander!”

“Think of it this way, you are now thoroughly distracted from your nerves about what is waiting in the tavern,” Cullen smiled a bit at the look on Dorian’s face. He had never seen the man non plussed before. “No red lyrium in you either.”

“I am aware of that.” Dorian was going to say more, but clearly decided against it. He looked to the tavern. “Is there somewhere I can change? I won’t meet them with road dust on me.”

They went into one of the shops and Cullen and Adaar stood to give him privacy in the corner. “Wrinkled but clean,” Dorian was talking to himself. “Kohl, too much, not enough?” There were more mutterings and then Cullen felt Dorian’s forehead press against his neck. Well his mantle was in the way, so he didn’t truly feel it but he knew it was happening. He didn’t respond though, knowing Dorian just needed a moment. “I need you both to swear -”

“They will not take my mage away from me,” Cullen swore.

“You belong with us,” Adaar agreed.

Cullen hated when they weight moved away from him. Dorian moved in front of them. “There, how do I look?”

“Like you always do?” Adaar said. “How are you supposed to look?”

“Right, here is a lesson good Inquisitor should our dear Josephine ever ask that question, you use words like incredible, divine, luminous, things like that.”

“What are the enchantments in those robes?” Cullen looked at them. “Are they a sigil set?”

“No I don’t like the cost benefit of sigils. They increase my barrier strength, the silverite helps channel my poorer electric work.”

“Good,” Cullen grunted. “Ready?”

“What a foolish question,” Dorian laughed, and that mask he wore to hide his true self was firmly in place. “Of course I am ready.”

They walked up to the tavern and Cullen laughed at how he and Adaar looked like Dorian’s bodyguards the way they flanked him. He was walking with that arrogance that only came from being wealthy and powerful since birth, and only Cullen was aware of the tension in his shoulders. Cullen opened the door and they walked in, and shit the place was empty. “This is not good,” Cullen warned. “Empty is never good.” He listened carefully but could hear no movement from above, and he looked to the back door, and Varric gave a signal through the window that all was clear. “This makes no sense.”

Adaar nodded and he and Cullen moved so that Dorian was fully protected between them. “We are leaving.”

“No, foolish boys, this makes all the sense,” Dorian said and nudged. Cullen didn’t budge. “Commander,” he hissed and Cullen reluctantly moved. “Because Magister Pavus wouldn’t want anyone to witness a potential scene would he?”

“Dorian,” an older man stepped from the shadows where he had clearly been cloaking himself with magic. “It is good to see you.”

“You’ve seen me and now we are leaving.” 

“Please, Inquisitor, this is how he has always been, running away from anything that might require a bit of work from him.”

“Excuse me?” Dorian stepped forward. “I ran away from because of what you wanted to do to me.”

“Give you everything? That is so awful of a father to want what is best for his son?” 

Cullen did not like the man’s tone. “Be careful, you are speaking to a trusted member of the Inquisition,” he said and rested his hand on his sword. He wished he had a shield, but that would have been a bit much. 

“I am speaking to my child.”

“As if he was a child,” Adaar said in a calm voice. “He is an adult who made a choice. He is helping mend the world, I would think a father would be proud of that.”

“He follows a heathen,” Magister Pavus sneered a bit, “I do not acknowledge your leadership in anyway. I sent word to the commander, and I see that he ignored my wishes.”

“Yes, forgive me for not wanting an ambush on my mage,” Cullen really didn’t like the man. 

“Is that the way of it,” the man sounded even more disdainful. “You infected the inquisition with your -”

“NO,” Dorian shouted and strode forward, “You don’t insinuate that there is anything wrong with the greatest men I have ever known. Why are you here, Father?”

“You need to come home, take your proper place.”

“I am in my proper place.” Dorian was growing agitated. “Would you like to know what he did to make me leave?”

“Dorian, don’t -”

“He tried to change me,” Dorian’s breath was coming quicker, and Cullen’s threat assessment of the room was changing rapidly. “He hated who I was, and held me captive.”

“Who you were? A snarky pain in the ass?” Adaar was trying to diffuse the tension.

“That too, I am sure,” Dorian gave that fake laugh that Cullen hated. “No, I prefer the company of men, and that is not acceptable.”

Cullen understood in an instant and growled a bit. But Adaar looked a bit confused. “Why would who you play chess with matter?” There was a pause. “And great, now all of Tevinter is going to think the head of the Inquisition is an idiot.”

“At least they already think that,” Dorian said, “they would hate us no matter what, but you being qunari is extra insult.”

“We hate them, Dorian, because they are no name upstarts. You are not one of these…rabble.”

Dorian was clearly ignoring his father's interjection there and focusing on the important topic at hand. “But yes, he means sex. As in I like sex with men.”

“Sure, who doesn’t?” Adaar replied. Cullen smiled a bit at the look of shock on Dorian and his father’s face. “What?”

“You also like -”

“Yeah, why I hit on Cullen the second I met him. But he wasn’t interested and then you know I saw Josephine’s smile and her decimate a noble with words and I was done.”

“Also the fact that the Commander doesn’t have the same inclinations that we in part share.”

Cullen appreciated that Dorian was lying to protect Cullen in the eyes of Tevinter, but that was hardly necessary. “No, it was just horns in bed, I’d always be worried about being gored. Stupid, because Adaar is gorgeous, but I cannot stop thinking about him going down and stabbing my thighs with them. Kills any thoughts.” Cullen was a small enough man to enjoy the way this conversation was clearly repulsing Dorian’s father. 

“You are very pretty too, Commander,” Adaar said.

“My thanks.”

“You enjoy the company of men?” Dorian’s voice had gone up three octaves. “For chess?”

“Clearly since we play together, but if you are asking if I fuck men, the answer is yes. Also like to be fucked by them. Not very particular there.” Halward looked repulsed and Cullen smiled. Dorian seemed to be relishing pretending that he was shocked by Cullen's sexuality so Cullen could roll with this. “Nothing quite like a nice long cock, pushing into your -”

“Enough,” Halward snarled.

“You are interrupting a very interesting discussion, because honestly I would have assumed Cullen mostly topped.” Adaar had a vicious smile on his face. “This is far more important than whatever you have to say.”

“If you give Dorian to me, I can offer -”

Cullen stepped forward. “Magister Pavus, Adaar and I were having a conversation. It is foolish to cut in like that. Let us finish.”

“Your conversation is crass and pointless.”

“No, we are showing you that whatever it is you want here, is so meaningless to us we are willing to instead discuss my commander’s proclivities in bed,” Adaar spoke slowly. “I’m sorry you are a bit too dull witted to see that. Guess Dorian’s intelligence comes from his mother’s side.”

“Oh Maker,” Dorian breathed out, and he began to laugh. Cullen adored that it was a true sound. “No one has ever dared call my father dim.”

“If he can’t see how wonderful you are, then clearly he is a bit thick,” Adaar spoke like it was obvious. “But let me lay it out plainly. Magister Pavus, the only way Dorian leaves the Inquisition is if it is his desire, his choice. There is nothing you can offer, no resources, no money, that equals what he brings to us.”

“That is foolish.”

“The Inquisitor has spoken,” Cullen said sharply. “You dare talk back to him?” 

“He is unused to people standing up to him. You know I might have been the first,” Dorian moved closer to his father, and Cullen stepped forward as well. He did not trust the man. “And do you know what he did? He wanted to use blood magic on me. He taught me it was the last resort of a weak mind and the first challenge against him? He immediately turned to it.”

Cullen’s brain heard the words blood magic, and it flipped from commander of the inquisition, to a templar mindset. It was instinct, something that was too ingrained in him and he immediately changed how he was thinking of the threat in front of him.

Which meant that when Halward raised a hand, likely just to plead with Dorian, Cullen didn’t think he just pushed silence forward. It shouldn’t have even worked, not with him not having taken lyrium in almost a year but Halward cried out and fell to his knees. Cullen moved forward and knelt in front of him. “You dared to use blood magic, on my mage? You think to touch what is mine?” He gripped Halward’s hair and pulled the boot dagger out, put it to the man’s neck. 

“Whoops,” Adaar snickered a bit. “Cullen got mad.”

“Dorian!”

“Yes, father?”

“Save me from this dog lord!”

“In a moment, I am enjoying this a bit too much.”

Cullen looked at Halward. “You must hate that your son is better than you in every way. Dorian, may I kill him for you?”

There was silence, and Cullen started to press the blade closer. 

“Stop,” Dorian called out. “Don’t.”

Cullen put the blade away and stood. “You never approach my mage again, because if you do, nothing will stop me.” He took a few steps back and stood next to Dorian. Awaited orders from either man. 

“Say your piece Magister Pavus,” Adaar had a look of pity on his face. “This is likely your last chance to make amends with your son.”

“Dorian, I never wanted this.”

“I know,” Dorian said, and for a moment he leaned against Cullen. “Let’s sit. Can we have a moment?”

“Of course,” Adaar replied. He started to leave. “Commander.”

“No,” Cullen planted his feet. “Not happening.”

Adaar sighed and Cullen snarled as he found himself picked up and moved back. At least the Inquisitor was smart enough not to pull him out of the building. They stayed near the door and watched as Dorian sat with his father just far enough away they couldn’t hear the conversation but close enough Cullen could protect him. “We going to talk about how you can still do templar shit? Even off lyrium for a year?”

“We will have to,” Cullen agreed. “I have a feeling it will add more to the chantry calling us heretics.” 

“Be nice to get letters complaining about something new.” Halward glanced over to them and Adaar pulled out a small dagger and started cleaning under his nails. The man sneered and returned his gaze to Dorian. “It is fun to live down to expectations sometimes.”

Cullen tilted his head. “Something is wrong.” He listened carefully. “Varric. Go.” Adaar slid out the front door, and Cullen moved over to the table. “Dorian. Something is wrong.”

Dorian’s gaze snapped to his father. “What did you do?”

“Nothing, I swear.”

They all heard Adaar’s roar and Cullen charged out the back door. Varric was bleeding, but still firing Bianca. Adaar was moving through the people, daggers flashing. It was a group of mercenaries, likely just thieves, brigands out for what they could get. Or maybe hired by Halward. That didn’t matter right now. “Dorian, barriers!” Cullen called and he felt the magic settle over him. He pressed forward, making himself a clear target, and it brought all the focus onto him.

He fought calmly, this was hardly a challenge and with their attention on him, Adaar slipped among them slitting throats, backstabbing. An arrow caught one in the eye and another threw down smoke. Cullen fought blindly though, as if he hadn’t fought in darkness and terror before. Lord, thugs really weren’t what they used to be.

And then he heard a cry. Dorian. He turned and one had gotten through Dorian’s barrier. No.

Cullen ran and put himself between Dorian and the man. “You will not harm my mage.” He went a bit blank then, until he heard his name shouted and he looked around. All threats neutralized. Good. He looked down and the man who had hurt Dorian was in a few pieces. Huh. Well, that was a lesson learned. He turned. “Are you alright?”

“What the fuck was that, Commander?” Dorian was staring at him in shock.

“That is what happens when people touch what is mine,” Cullen said with a shrug. He turned and saw Halward was watching them all. An odd look on his face. “These were your men weren’t they?” He started to move forward. He flicked the blood off his blade and held it, ready to skewer.

“I swear they were not,” Halward backed up into the wall. “Inquisitor! Leash your dog lord.”

“Nah, not that kinky.”

Varric’s laugh was abrasive on Cullen’s ears, his focus wholly on Halward. “I don’t believe you. You wanted to take away my mage.”

“No, I swear. Dorian, please!”

“Cullen,” Dorian was touching his shoulder. “Cullen, I believe him.”

“Why?”

“Because he would have hired much more competent thugs,” Dorian explained. “They didn’t have a drop of magic about them. They would have had at least three mages if they were his. He really did just come to talk, to bribe me away.”

“But you aren’t going.”

“No, I am not. We are done here. Father, in our conversation, you never actually said you were sorry for what you tried to do to me. Are you, is any part of you, sorry?” There was silence. “Say hello to mother for me. It is doubtful I will ever return to Tevinter.”

“You mean to stay with these barbarians?”

“See funny thing, these barbarians show more class and dignity and honour than you with your perfect lineage could ever comprehend. I’ll take the mud and cold, any day, because those are just physical things. I will not allow my heart to grow cold like yours, Father. Not when I have seen how it can be.”

“Dorian, you give up -”

“Nothing that isn’t worth giving up.” 

“One hit, for hurting you, please?” Cullen begged, and he didn’t care that he sounded like a mabari eager for mayhem.

“No, Commander, we are leaving.”

“Go near my mage again, and you will not be so fortunate,” Cullen warned and Dorian said he couldn’t hit, but he hit the man with another silence, and it caused him to pass out. He turned and Dorian looked exasperated, and incredibly tired. Cullen cleaned off his blade and put it away. “We should get you away from here.”

“Indeed.”

“Ooh, this is a great belt!” Adaar called as he and Varric finished looting the corpses. He came over. “The bastard get the hint?” He nudged Halward with his boot. “He know Dorian is yours?”

“I believe so, yes,” Cullen smiled with satisfaction. He beamed at Dorian. Who just walked away. Cullen looked to Adaar. “I shouldn’t have done the extra silence?”

“I mean he kind of deserved it, and you didn’t kill him? I think it is good. Dorian is probably just tired.”

Cullen nodded and they all rode out of Redcliffe and it was early enough that they made it back to Skyhold, though rather late. But it was clear that Dorian wanted the sanctuary of home. Cullen would have followed Dorian but of course he was needed urgently over nothing that was in fact urgent and then he went to Leliana to ask her spies to make sure that Halward didn’t cause any problems. Which she had already made sure her people were in place, and he was glad of her mind as he ever was.

Cullen made his way to his tower and when he stepped in, Dorian was waiting, his feet propped up on Cullen’s desk. “Dorian.”

“Your mage?” Dorian looked furious. “What exactly makes you think that I am yours?”

Cullen turned and saw Jim hurrying up the steps. “No, I am busy the rest of the night.”

“But sir -”

“I am busy,” Cullen said firmly, “there will be no disturbances.” He closed that door and locked it. Locked the other two as well. He calmly went and put his weapons away, and his armor on the stand in the corner. He then went and stood in front of his desk. He smiled at Dorian. “Is it the right time for this conversation?”

Dorian stayed relaxed, fingers entwined as they rested on his stomach. “Probably not, but we are going to have it.”

“Then let us begin.”

Chapter Text

Dorian had thought the whole way home to Redcliffe. Too many thoughts, really, all of them swirling about. Moving from his father, to Cullen, to Adaar. The past and present all in a tumble together and it was so much that it just all hurt.

His father couldn’t even say he was sorry. Not even to lie about it. 

And Cullen. What was the man about with all that talk of his mage. How possessive he sounded of Dorian. Dorian knew he was an asset to the Inquisition but it all seemed a little much. Did Ferelden templars always claim ownership of mages like that? He’d ask Varric, but that would have to be later, because Cullen would hear it now and he didn’t want that.

And Cullen had he been winding Halward up, or was he serious about liking men?

And watching him fight, to protect Dorian. They of course all watched each other’s backs when in battle. But Cullen hadn’t even cared about protecting his rear in his rush to keep Dorian safe. He had been rather excessive in that. Very excessive. Because the man had hurt Dorian. Maker, he was shocked that Cullen hadn’t marked his territory. Perhaps he shouldn’t have joked about being marked as Inquisition property.

They had made it home and Dorian went to his room. He knew he should eat, something, anything, but instead he had two glasses of wine and paced as he tried to sort out all the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through him. There was a knock at the door, a servant saying the Inquisitor sent a tray with orders for Dorian to eat or he wouldn’t get the pretty ribbons that Adaar had found. The servant sounded embarrassed to relay that order.

He wasn’t a child to be bribed. But on the other hand pretty ribbons. He took the tray and even managed to eat enough that he thought it reasonable to finish the bottle of wine. And thoughts of his father slid out of his mind, as it slowly filled only with Cullen. The commander who claimed rather vehemently that Dorian was his. 

He wasn’t some damned cowed southern mage to be chained and locked away. His father had wanted to own him, lock him away, and he was not going to have traded one prison for another. Cullen was sliding into his templar ways, and Dorian was going to explain to him how very wrong he was.

Dorian went outside and a cool wind struck his face. For a moment he thought about leaving this, until he wasn’t fucked up from seeing his father again, but no. No, the commander was going to explain himself. His tower was actually locked, but luckily Sera had been teaching Dorian a few things and he even had a lock pick. But it was dark and harder than the lessons suggested it should be. He was just about to light the wood on fire, because that would certainly be a way in, when he heard that little snick. He felt rather proud of himself. Cullen’s office was cold and he lit the torches to warm the place, to brighten it up. In the dark it looked rather haunted.

Sometimes in the shadows, Cullen looked rather haunted too. Dorian thought about how Varric suggested Dorian could light the way for Cullen. He rather wished that he could.

Now that the place was warmer, it was important to be in the exact right spot when he returned. Make a statement. The chaise that had appeared only after Dorian had needed a place to read and there was no other seating? No, Cullen would expect him to sit on his own chair. For a moment he was troubled that he had a spot in the commander’s tower at all, but he was sure that many used the seat when they visited. Still, it was the obvious place.

Sitting at the edge of the bunk above. No, because then he’d have to come down or Cullen up and everyone looked like an idiot climbing a ladder. Cullen had a wall of books, and Dorian looked damned good by a wall of books. Plus actually it had filled out a bit. He went over and a lot of it was the same, and there was more of usual, military tactics and journals, guidebooks, one of Varric’s books and oh when he stopped being mad at Cullen he was making fun of him endlessly for that. He skimmed and stuttered to a stop because there were books on Tevinter there, and not the usual Chantry everything Tevene is evil but ones about culture, history, the traditions. There was even poetry. And a child’s alphabet primer to learn to how to read and write the language.

He didn’t know what to do with that information. He’d ignore it for now, he was very good at ignoring things that bothered him. But he couldn’t stay by the books.

It just left the desk. He eventually settled in Cullen’s chair, which he was letting the Inquisitor know their commander sat on a thing that would murder the man’s back. It was dreadful and was going to be changed. He put his feet up on the desk, and yes perfect. He fold his hands over his stomach and waited. He occupied the time by thinking through a bit of theoretical magic that always stumped him, and soon enough, or maybe it wasn’t - hard to tell when he got lost in ideas - he heard the commander’s signature stomp. He was not light on his feet. Dorian wouldn’t think about the fact that he could recognize Cullen’s footsteps out of the hundreds of stomps that moved around Skyhold.

Cullen was surprised to see him sitting there. Good. Let’s hope the commander was as off footed as Dorian currently felt. “Is it the right time for this conversation?”

Dorian stayed relaxed, fingers entwined as they rested on his stomach. “Probably not, but we are going to have it.”

“Then let us begin.”

It was odd to be at the commander’s desk and him lounging on the chaise. And he wasn’t looking surprised anymore. Just supremely confident, as he always did after he said check. But he didn’t get to be like that right now. “I would like to thank you for coming along to that meeting.” It was always good to start with manners.

“You are welcome. He - are you alright?”

“No,” Dorian was blunt. “I love my father, like I love my homeland - can’t stop, no matter how much they are determined to kill that love. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him, but it helped to see him again, not wonder what ifs. There are no what ifs. He doesn’t for a moment regret what he tried to do, just that he didn’t pull it off.”

“What exactly was it?”

“Blood magic, to change my mind, my heart. Make me like women, marry, create an heir. Be a good little Tevene boy and eventually become Archon, I suppose.”

“Would it have worked?”

“Maybe, or turned me into an abomination, or a drooling vegetable. I wouldn’t have been me anymore. And that was a risk worth taking.” Dorian saw the sympathy and understanding on Cullen’s face. “But I’ll get shitfaced with Bull later to deal with those emotions. What I am here to discuss is you, Commander.”

“What is it that you want to discuss.”

“I wouldn’t let my father cage me, I won’t let you do it either.”

“What?”

Dorian wanted to pull his feet off the desk, storm over, rage at Cullen. But that wouldn’t serve a purpose. It would be easy to deflect the point Dorian wanted to make. “I am not property of you, or the Inquisition. You kept saying I was yours. Am I a recruit, a conscript?”

“No, Dorian, do you not understand?”

“I understand that you seem to want the dangerous mage under your thumb. I thought you weren’t a templar anymore.” He saw that landed and he didn’t like that. But still he thought the way that Cullen flinched, he was correct. “When that tower at the north end gets finished, you going to lock me away, lose the key? You watch me all the time, glare at me with this coldness in public, but when we play chess, you are warm. What is that about?” Dorian found himself standing but he wouldn’t move closer. He pressed his fists into the desk as he had seen Cullen do so many times. “And another thing, you petitioned to court someone. Why didn’t I know this?” Why didn’t you tell me you were going to break my heart he managed to leave unsaid.

“Dorian, are you finished?”

“I am just getting started, you bloody -”

“You are mine,” Cullen interrupted. “My mage, not because I want to lock you up, because I want to defend and protect you. I’m not glaring at you, Dorian, but anyone who attempts to denigrate or hurt you.” Cullen stood up and came over and he stood at the desk as well. “I am glaring to warn everyone that you will not be treated poorly or they will face my wrath.”

“Why?”

“Because no one is allowed to hurt my -”

“I am not yours!” Dorian shouted, “No matter how much I wish it, I’m not yours. I am - why are you looking at me like that?” Cullen started to stalk around the desk and Dorian began to retreat. “Cullen. Look I appreciate that you seem to want me to be treated equally to that of the rest of the Inquisition. That is lovely. But you see, I am now against the ladder. I am against the ladder and you are looking at me like a mabari looks at its food dish. Why are you looking at me like that?” He found his head bracketed by Cullen’s arms. “Why are you so sure I am yours, Commander?”

“I prefer when you call me Cullen. Though I suppose we might have some fun with you calling me commander in bed.”

“What was that?” Dorian stayed very still as Cullen pressed against him. He was incredibly aware that Cullen had taken off his armor. “I am not your property. I don’t need you fighting my fights. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. You are Altus Pavus of Minrathous, an incredibly powerful Mortalitasi, who also can create one hell of a fireball. You are snarky, and flirtatious, feel you are superior to almost everyone, cheat miserably at chess, and you challenge me every day.” 

Dorian could see each crinkle in Cullen’s skin, each flaw on his face. It was a perfect face. “Rather think you would hate that. Sounds awful.”

“You are,” Cullen smiled. “Dorian, the petition to court was you.”

“You don’t even like me.”

“No, I don’t.” There was a pause and a smile that terrified Dorian. No one had ever smiled at him like that before, and whatever the man said next was going to destroy him. “I love you.”

“Take that back,” Dorian snapped. “You do not.”

“I know my heart.”

“You barely know me.”

“Months of watching you, being your friend, looking out for you - no you are right, I don’t know you.”

“I’m a mess, Cullen.”

“Dorian, I am in withdrawal from a substance that was going to erase my mind and that withdrawal could any day kill me. I have a past that I can never fully atone for no matter what good I do moving forward. You are barely clutter, certainly not a mess.”

“What will people say?”

“Dorian the only people who do not know I hold you in the highest esteem were you and Mother Giselle.” Cullen’s smile grew. “You are worse than Josephine.”

“I am not!” Dorian paused, “I am, but only because there is no way this can end well.”

“Why not?”

He was so close. “Because I cannot be yours,” Dorian said. “Not if you aren’t mine.”

“Dorian, how do you not realize I’ve been yours since you yelled at me while collapsing in my arms.”

“The former templar fell in love in an instant with a bloodied Tevinter mage? That is worse than anything Varric has ever written.” Dorian smiled a little. “I am still mad at you.”

“Very well. Would you like to deal with those feelings, or would you like to climb that ladder you are leaning against?”

“Commander, are you a bad man?” Dorian looked at Cullen in surprise and hunger and that hunger was answered.

“Why, yes, Dorian, I am.”

“Fuck,” Dorian climbed the ladder.

*

He was in quite a good mood, Mother Giselle’s prattling not withstanding. Rumours, questionable behaviour blah blah blah. But Adaar had another box of books sent this time  from Starkhaven. There were some very interesting things in this batch and he was sorting through them. Too brazen in address, too indecorous in dress, blah blah blah. Maker, the woman did go on.

“If you were just more circumspect,” she said.

“I am the height of discretion, madame. Why, the other day when Cullen wanted to fuck me on the battlements when it was still dusk, I had him wait until it was the late bell.” Dorian leaned over the railing. “Solas, a Starkhaven guide to alternate uses of Flora?”

“Yes, please,” Solas called up and Dorian tossed the book down to him. He went back to the box and Mother Giselle was standing there in shock. He ignored her and continued cataloging. It didn’t take her long though and then she was laying into him again.

“I could hear you over Leliana’s birds, what is going on?”

“Lord Inquisitor, I was just suggesting to Dorian that he be more discreet.”

“Huh?”

“Adaar doesn’t play those sorts of games, dear woman, you’ll have to lay it out for him.” Dorian put the last book on the shelf and sighed in satisfaction. Generations of careful breeding, to create a librarian. It really was rather perfect.

“There are rumours about Dorian’s undue influence on yourself and the commander of the inquisition.”

“Are there?” Adaar crossed his arms. “Are they about us having orgies?”

“Inquisitor!”

“No, mostly I have ensnared your minds, and you must be saved at all cost. I’m really working for the Venatori, the usual bullshit.”

“Mother Giselle, I am shocked that a pious woman such as yourself would lend even a drop of credence to such foul rumours,” Adaar managed to look faintly scandalized. “Of course I know, as a true supporter of the Inquisition, the minute any of these falsities cross your ears you set the speaker to rights.” 

“I -” she was boxed into a corner and Dorian had never seen a more enjoyable sight. Well, perhaps one or two. “Our Cullen must be -”

Dorian snarled, “My Cullen.” He didn’t hiss, but it was close. “You do not dare speak his name so casually. That is my name, to bandy about. You address him with the proper respect, or I’ll make some rumours fact.”

“Mother Giselle, you’ve lost this round of the game. Maybe you should take some lessons from Leliana for when you want to try again. And if any of those rumours persist, I’ll let the commander off his leash.” Adaar was smiling. “You mean well, and help the people and I am grateful for that. But this matter is now closed, am I understood?”

“Of course, your grace. If I have offended, my most sincere apologies.” She bowed and hurried away and Dorian made sure she was well gone before he laughed. He laughed so much he collapsed against the Inquisitor.

“I swear, if Cullen wouldn’t throw a fit, I would kiss you so hard right now.”

“Hey kiss away, you like when he gets all tetchy.”

“I do at that.” Dorian hauled Adaar down by his horns, and lay a loud and obnoxious kiss on his cheek. “There. Now I have a thing for you to give Josie.” He went to a chest in the corner. “I pressed some flowers with some paper I made, a bookmark. Her favourite flowers.”

“It is wonderful.”

“Yes, I know. An odd talent I picked up somewhere. She’ll like it. Especially if you give it to her in this book.” He gave the book of plays to Adaar. “Go on with you. I am due to teach the scared little rabbits how to hit things with their staff.”

“I’ll walk you down,” Adaar said and they made it to the main hall together, and Dorian could see Cullen striding up the stairs. “Ooh he looks…something.”

“He does at that. I’m not that late,” Dorian muttered and Cullen was soon in front of him. “Yes, amatus?”

“Your Cullen?” There was that slow smile that meant many things. “Am I your property now?”

“Yes,” Dorian replied. “Is that a problem?”

“Not in the least.” Cullen pulled him close and Dorian didn’t swoon at the kiss he was given so publicly. He could hear Josephine sigh and say how romantic, so she was providing all the swoon needed. “Now if my mage would be so kind as to go give those lessons he promised, we can take up this discussion again later.”

“Only if my Cullen watches how manly and breathtaking I am when I instructor people in fighting techniques.” 

“Perhaps we should give them a true demonstration of those techniques?”

“A challenge?”

“Winner gets to make our discussion later an interesting one.”

“I am going to destroy you in front of all your troops, Commander.”

“You destroy me everyday.”

“And do not think that sappy Varric written bullshit will distract me.”

Cullen laughed, “I would never think any such thing. After you, my mage.”

Cullen said it several times a day, and Dorian had yet to get sick of it. He was entirely possessed and it turned out all the tomes and teachers were wrong. It was rather brilliant being such. Dorian walked down to the training grounds, his Cullen, his dog lord happily following behind. And that night when Cullen whispered my mage against his skin, Dorian smiled. Yes, possession was much better than anything he had ever known.