For Ellexan

Darnassus was quiet. Far away from the chaos of the Dark Portal, it was no wonder she’d chosen a place like this. They’d all received the letter – enclosed with it, a tiny living seed. “I’ll be back, but keep this to remember me by.”

She clutched the small seed in her hand, tight to her chest. It was imbued with magic she’d seen from watching the woman who sent it. The lightposts illuminated the stones in the road as she walked further into the city. As she wandered down the streets, she fished an envelope out of her pack. She checked the address on the envelope, and turned down a narrow tree-lined path.

A small house sat at the end of the path, lit by small torches outside. Where the exterior was lit, the interior was dark. She frowned, this should be the right place. This is what I get, showing up unannounced. She clicked her tongue in annoyance, and checked the envelope again. She huffed and paced in front of the house.

She tapped the envelope against her hand. She sat on the doorstep, and set a small wooden devilsaur down beside her. She could leave a note to say she visited, and set up another date. Better than nothing, she thought. She managed to get a small leave from her duties but had to catch the boat back to the Eastern Kingdoms that evening. Waiting wasn’t an option.

She rummaged through her pack for a quill and ink. She cringed as she ripped a page from her notebook. Smoothing the paper over her knee, she scribbled onto the page. She tied the small wooden devilsaur to the letter and set it gently on the window sill before turning back down the path.

Ellexan,

I’m so sorry I missed you. I should have sent an owl ahead of me! I hope this note finds you well. I’ve heard you’re relaxing from adventuring, and I wanted to visit while I could.

I hope your daughter likes the small gift! It’s King Krush, you know that terrible green devilsaur from Sholazar? Anyway, I wish you the best, and I’ll be back to visit soon!

Kal

The Commander pt 6 – Halamshiral

Vivienne clapped her hands together excitedly, “Evelyn darling, you’re a vision.” Evelyn smiled, “Thank you. I never would have guessed your seamstress could have created something so beautiful and practical.” Vivienne scoffed, waving a hand, “Of course she could, the woman’s a genius with fabric.” Evelyn peered into the mirror, twisting her body in the dress she was given. It was in the Orlesian style, with a large skirt and tight fitting bodice. She ran her hands along the smooth silk and velvet and sighed, “I missed dresses.” The seamstress included inner pockets for weapons – reasonably sized daggers, her bow absolutely would not fit – and her lock picking set.

She had requested blue or green fabric and the seamstress obliged with a velvet that shifted colours depending on the lighting. If she stepped into the light, the velvet shone blue. If she backed into shade, hues of green emerged. The corset was snug, crafted from dark, soft leather with simple boning underneath. Golden felandaris vines were woven into the hem of the dress and over the bodice, curving under her breasts. Evelyn smiled smugly, Cullen is going to die when he sees this.

---

Cullen slipped his leather gloves on and pulled them tight. He looked over and saw Dorian fussing over his own outfit. Josephine had insisted they all wear the same red military dress, “The Inquisitor should stand out, we are only there to support and complement her,” she’d said. “Cullen, you forgot the sash.” Josephine tsked as she wrapped the blue silk around his middle. “Josephine, really. I can manage -” her eyes flicked up and he swallowed hard. “Very well,” he mumbled.

As Josephine tied down the sash and finished with the buckles, Evelyn emerged from the guest dressing room. Cullen felt his breath catch as she turned to look at him. She flashed him a brilliant smile and it was hard work to keep his eyes from wandering over her form. She spent so much of her time in leather and mail that seeing so much of her skin made him blush. She swept over to him, skirts swishing as she walked. “Good evening, Commander. You look dashing, was the red your choice?” Her eyes twinkled but her face was straight, calm, one eyebrow quirked as she looked him over. He pulled his collar with a finger, “No, it was Lady Montilyet’s idea that your ‘retinue’ not outshine you, my lady.”

She hummed in approval, putting her hand on his chest, “I hope that by the end of the evening, my ‘retinue’ will consist of far fewer people.” She broke her aloof expression to wink at him, and floated out the door to meet Gaspard. Cullen put his hand where hers had been and muttered, “Maker’s breath.”

---

He watched as she wound the court around her finger. A kind word here, an ear for a complaint there and the people fell for her. She walked by him a few times, once for a report and again to ask if perhaps he’d be interested in a dance.

“No, thank you.”

“Oh.”

“No, I didn’t mean to -” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Maker’s breath, I’ve been asked that question so many times, I’m rejecting it automatically.” He shrugged, trying to apologize. “I’m not one for dancing. Templars never attended balls.”

Evelyn smiled, to show him she understood. Her eyes swept over the women and men huddled near him and her smile faded. Her voice was sharp, “You’ve attracted a following, who are all these people?” He rolled his eyes, “I don’t know. They won’t leave me alone.”

The brief glimpse of anger was masked by a smirk, “Not enjoying the attention, then?”

“Hardly. Anyway yours,” He cleared his throat, taking a gamble with the tone of his voice, “Yours is the only attention worth having.” He was rewarded with a flush that crept up Evelyn’s neck and he grinned wickedly. A murmured, “We’ll speak later, Commander,” and she disappeared into the crowd of nobles.

She stopped by once more to complain just loud enough how he’d chosen a place where she couldn’t get him alone.

---

She leaned over the balcony, happy to have a moment to herself. The dress she had worn was ruined. Getting out of it had proved easy enough, but there was no way she would ever wear it again. Such a pity, it was a beautiful dress. Duchess Florianne tried to flee after assassinating Celene. In a flash of smoke and light Evelyn had cut the dress and bounded after her. Her party made quick work of Florianne and Gaspard became the Emperor of Orlais.

It was a successful night, but a twinge of guilt fluttered in Evelyn’s chest. She heard footsteps behind her and Cullen called softly, “Evelyn?” She waved him over. “Here you are, everyone’s been looking for you.” She laughed, “I’m surprised I got away for this long.” Cullen leaned on the balcony with her, she looked exhausted. “Things have calmed down for the moment. Are you all right?”

She let out a breath, puffing her cheeks. “I’m just worn out. Tonight has been very long.” He nodded, “Glad it’s over.” He hesitated for a moment before putting a hand on her shoulder, “I know it’s foolish but I was worried for you tonight.” Evelyn reached up to touch his hand in gratitude, a sad smile on her lips.

He squeezed her shoulder and a round of applause erupted from the ballroom as the band struck up a final song. Cullen gambled again, “I may never have another chance like this so, I have to ask.” He left the balcony and Evelyn turned as he bowed low, offering her his hand. “May I have this dance, my lady?”

Her smile set his heart galloping as she took his hand, “Of course, I thought you didn’t dance.” He slipped his other hand to the small of her back, “For you, I’ll try.”

 

I know the Inquisitor doesn’t wear a dress but I don’t care. She’s getting a dress because I say so. 

The Commander pt 5

Evelyn sank gratefully into a cushioned seat and propped her feet up on Cullen’s desk. “The Commander of the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste. That will have people talking.” Cullen looked over from the bookcases he’d been sorting and sighed. “You wouldn’t believe how quickly gossip spreads through the barracks.” Evelyn looked over at him, “Does it bother you?” He set the books he’d been sorting on a shelf and leaned back against the bookcase, “I would rather my -” he smirked and corrected himself, “Our – private affairs remain that way.” He pushed off the bookcase and walked over to her, “But if there were nothing here for people to talk about, I would regret it more.”

Cullen sat on the edge of his desk, brow furrowed as if he was unsure what to say next. Evelyn reached out and placed a hand on his forearm. Cullen’s expression softened and he laid a hand over hers. She tilted her head, one eyebrow raised in inquiry, “That day you kissed me on the battlements… How long had you wanted to do that?” He laughed softly, taking his hand off hers to rub the back of his neck. “Longer than I should admit.” She lifted her feet off of his desk and sat upright, elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her chin on her hand. “You don’t have much patience for nobility,” she smiled and teased him, “I’m glad my title didn’t scare you off.” Cullen raised his eyebrows, “I hadn’t considered… I have no title outside the Inquisition. I hope that doesn’t – I mean, does it bother you?”

She let him wait in worried suspense before saying, “No. If you care for me, that’s all that matters. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” Cullen crossed his arms and stood up from the desk, “I’m not very good at this am I?” Evelyn opened her mouth to reassure him when he held up a hand and said, “If I seem unsure, it’s because it’s been a long time since I’ve wanted anyone in my life.” He knelt down in front of her, and placed a hand on her arm. “I wasn’t expecting to find that here. Or you.” She smiled mischievously, “Think you could slip away Commander?” Cullen laughed, “I believe so.” He stood up and offered his hand to her. She took it, rising gracefully and he motioned for her to walk out to the battlements where they had first kissed, “Wait for me?” Evelyn backed up towards the door slowly, “I’m a busy woman, Commander. Don’t keep me waiting.” She turned, pushed open the door and heard Culllen mutter, “Maker’s breath.”

The Commander pt 4

Evelyn enjoyed walking the castle grounds mid-afternoon. The fortress was bustling, and happy chatter filled the air. She brushed her hand against the cold, ancient stone walls as she walked. She’d been away for weeks helping to close rifts on the Storm Coast and Skyhold had transformed. Once it was a damaged, abandoned ruin and now, a sanctuary for refugees and staging area for the Inquisition.

She strolled lazily through the gardens, and found Cullen and Dorian engaged in a game of chess. Dorian was leaning back, sprawled over his chair, chuckling at the Commander. He waved her over. Cullen’s hands were steepled, fingertips pressed to his lips as he scanned the board. As she approached, he looked up and a startled yelp of “Inquisitor!” caused Dorian’s laughter to ring out as Cullen awkwardly tried to stand while not tipping the board over.

Dorian smiled, teasing the Commander, “Leaving, are you? Does this mean I win?” Cullen sat down, glaring at the mage. Evelyn crossed her arms and joked, “Are you two playing nice?” Dorian leaned forward, and winked at her, “I’m always nice.” He turned to look at Cullen, “You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory.” He moved a piece on the board. “You’ll feel much better.”

Cullen smirked as he moved his piece in return, “Really? Because I just won, and I feel fine.” Dorian threw up his hands in mock disgust, “Don’t get smug. There will be no living with you.” He stood up and nodded to Cullen, “I enjoyed our game, Commander. I must return to my books, I’m afraid.” He passed by Evelyn and winked at her again, “Inquisitor.”

Cullen turned to look at her, “I should get back to my duties as well. Unless…” he gestured to the chess board, “You would care for a game?” Evelyn grinned, “Prepare the board, Commander.” He motioned for her to sit where Dorian had. “As a child I played this with my sister. She would get this stuck-up grin whenever she won -” he moved some pieces back to their starting positions and looked up at her, “Which was all the time.” As Evelyn sat across from him, he continued to rearrange the board,”My brother and I practiced together for weeks. The look on her face when I finally won… .” His expression softened a little and he sat back rubbing his chin, “Between serving the Templars and the Inquisition, I haven’t seen her in years. I wonder if she still plays.”

Evelyn moved the last of the pieces into position. Cullen indicated she should start. She pursed her lips in thought and moved a pawn forward, “You have siblings?” He moved a pawn forward in response, “Two sisters and a brother.” She placed another pawn, “Where are they now?” He leaned forward, “They moved to South Reach after the Blight. I do not write to them as often as I should.” He looks sad, she thought. “Ah,” his moment of reflection abandoned, “My turn.”

The clicking of chess pieces on the board punctuated the silence in the garden. Evelyn hadn’t played chess since she was sent to the Conclave and it was a relief to think of something other than the mark, or Corypheus. She had been taking longer to decide her next move when Cullen interrupted her thoughts, “You know, this may be the longest we’ve gone without discussing the Inquisition – or related matters.” He shifted in his chair, more relaxed than she’d seen him before. “To be honest, I appreciate the distraction.” She smiled, “We should spend more time together.” A fleeting moment of panic shot through her when she realized what she’d said. Cullen looked up from the board, surprised at first but a lopsided smile gave him away, “I would like that.” She was flooded with relief, “Me too.” She moved a chess piece, hoping to distract from the moment.

Cullen was grinning from ear to ear. “You said that,” he said softly. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he waved a hand. “We should… finish our game, right? My turn?” They continued placing chess pieces. He is good but… too confident, Evelyn thought. She met his pieces with counters, blocking his plans. He sat back and surveyed the board, impressed. “I believe this one is yours, well played.” Evelyn smiled, satisfied. Cullen leaned forward, “We shall have to try again sometime.”

—

Evelyn paced around her quarters the next morning, wringing her hands. “The commander of the Inquisition’s army, what are you thinking Evelyn?!” She stopped to scold herself in front of a mirror. “One: He and I should not be distracted. Two: I could… die. That wouldn’t be fair to anyone I get involved with.” She ticked off reasons on her hands. “Three… three…”, she paused, studying herself in the mirror. Her eyebrows were drawn together, forehead wrinkled in thought. “Am I not allowed to be happy? Am I truly expected to do this on my own?”  She remembered his look of surprise and then his small smile after she suggested spending more time together. She looked herself in the eyes and said, “Right. I’ll go speak with him now.”

—

She strode purposefully across the bridge connecting the main tower and Cullen’s new office. She paused before opening the door. “Just going to see where we stand. Need to clarify intent, yes.” She nodded, straightened her shoulders and pushed open the wooden door. Cullen was leaning over his desk, wearily flipping through reports from the field. He hadn’t heard the door open so she moved closer. “Commander?” She said softly. He looked up, and jumped a little when he saw her. “Inquisitor. At your service.”

Evelyn looked at him, and said, “I was hoping that you might have time to talk?” He nodded, and she added, “Alone.” Cullen looked around, “Alone? I… Yes, of course.” He motioned for her to follow him. Evelyn walked behind Cullen as he guided her out to a quiet section of the wall around Skyhold. He turned to face her and rubbed his neck nervously, “It’s… a nice day.”

“What?”

“It’s… There was something you wished to discuss?”

She took a deep breath, “Yes. I… I find myself thinking of you.” She paused, searching his face. “More than… well. All the time, really.”

Cullen looked away, and Evelyn felt her heart sink. This was a mistake. She turned to leave when he said, “I can’t say I wasn’t thinking what it would be like.” She turned back, “What’s stopping you?” He stepped forward, “You’re the Inquisitor.”  He came closer slowly, uncertain. “We’re at war and you… I didn’t think it was possible.” She leaned back against the stone wall, “And yet I’m still here.” He chuckled, “So you are.” Cullen stepped forward, more certain now. She felt her heartbeat skipping as she studied his face, his scar, his lips. He is so close. He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe it, “It seems too much to ask. But I want to…” He ducked his head, lips parting to kiss her and – “Commander.” Cullen stopped, so close she felt his breath on her cheek as he exhaled, frustrated. Evelyn covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. Cullen rounded on the messenger walking up to them. “What?” He growled. The messenger looked up, “Sister Lelianna’s report? Sir, you said you wanted it delivered without delay.” Cullen stepped closer to the messenger, staring him down. The messenger looked from Cullen to Evelyn, and his eyes grew wide, “Or… or to your office! Right.” He turned on his heel and ran.

Evelyn peered at Cullen through her fingers, staring after the messenger with his back to her. “Cullen, if you need to – ”  In one swift movement, he turned and thoroughly interrupted her. His hands cradled her face as his lips met hers, his body pushing hers against the wall. She pulled him closer, grabbing a fistful of his fur collar. He smelled of leather, armor polish, and pine. He gently pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, that was…” He smiled sheepishly. She grinned back, breathless, “I believe that was a kiss. But I can’t be sure… it’s all a blur.” He laughed, tilted his head and said against her lips, “Yes, well…” She was certain that was a kiss.

 

The Commander pt 3

Refugees filtered into Skyhold daily and the fortress was bursting at the seams. Evelyn was sitting in a corner of the tavern, trying to eat in peace. She had little time to herself after being named Inquisitor by her advisors. Check this list, sign this contract, meet with this nobleman; there was always someone at her heels. There was a messenger with a note from Lelianna;  “Please, Inquisitor. Mistress Lelianna  needs this order signed straight away.” She waved a fork at him, “I can’t bloody well sign anything if my hands are full. Tell her to ask Cassandra.” He looked around, “She said you might say that, and told me to tell you… uhm…” He paused, unsure. Evelyn looked up from her plate and pointed her fork at him,”Tell me what, exactly?”  He stepped back. “I… I will let you finish your meal, my Lady.”

Evelyn sighed. “Come back, I’ll sign the damn papers.” The messenger trotted back, and gave her the papers. She snapped her fingers, “Quill?” He jumped, “Oh yes, quite right.” and fumbled in his breastpocket for a quill. She signed her name – Lady Evelyn Trevelyan, Inquisitor - and handed the papers and quill back. He bowed slightly, “Thank you my lady, enjoy your meal.”

She shook her head, and had just finished her meal when another runner appeared. “My lady, I -” Evelyn held a hand up, “A moment, please.” The other woman was silent, and waited while she took her plate to the innkeeper. Evelyn looked at the runner, “Very well, what is it?” She nodded and said, “Commander Cullen wished to speak with you my Lady. He hasn’t had a chance to ask you about Haven.” Evelyn raised her eyebrows, “He does? I – right, of course he does. I am the Inquisitor after all.” She was unconsciously smoothing her coat down over her hips when the runner asked, “My Lady? Are you alright?” Evelyn felt her cheeks flush and cleared her throat, “Yes, tell the Commander I will be there shortly.” The runner shrugged, and ran off.

Evelyn blew out a breath. Maker, help me hold it together. She walked through the crowded tavern, nodding and greeting people waving at her. He likely wants to discuss troop movement and progress on rebuilding. She tugged nervously on her right-hand glove. She hadn’t spoken to the Commander since fleeing Haven, when he had carried her back to camp. She found him sorting through papers strewn over a makeshift table, with messengers waiting near him. As she walked up a few messengers were leaving, papers in hand. Cullen was talking to the last messenger who soon sped away as well.

The Commander turned to see her waiting, and nodded, “Inquisitor.” “Commander,” she tugged on her glove again, “You wanted to see me?” He cleared away the last of his papers, “Yes. We set up as best we could at Haven, but nothing could have prepared us for a dragon or… archdemon or whatever that was.” He looked up at the sky, “With some warning we might have…” He looks exhausted, she thought. Evelyn blurted out, “Do you ever sleep?” She covered her mouth with her hand and motioned for him to continue when he looked back at her. He leaned on the table, “If Corypheus strikes again, we may not be able to withdraw. I wouldn’t want to.” He slammed his fist down, making her jump. “We must be ready. We will not run from here, Inquisitor.”

“How many were lost?”, she asked. Cullen’s expression softened, “Most of our people made it to Skyhold. It could have been worse. Morale was low, but it has improved greatly since you accepted the role of Inquisitor.” She snorted, “Inquisitor Trevelyan. I wasn’t looking for another title. It sounds odd, don’t you think?” He looked shocked, “Not at all.” She sat on the table beside him, “Is that the official response?” He chuckled, “I suppose it is, but it’s true.” He stood up and faced her, “We needed a leader, and you have proven yourself.”

“Thank you, Cullen.” He smiled at her, one side of his mouth turned up. She smiled back, and looked away. Maker but he turns me upside down. “Our escape… it was close.” She hesitated,  “I’m glad that you… that so many made it out.” Evelyn met his eyes and he took a step forward, tentatively reaching out, “As am I.” She looked at his hand and he stepped back as if he’d held his hand too close to a flame. She hopped off the table, “I’m sure Josephine has something to discuss with me, I’ll see you later Commander.”

She turned to go, and took a few steps when he spoke in a soft voice from behind her, “You stayed behind.” Evelyn whirled around, willing him to say more. He spoke slowly, and looked straight at her, “I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word.” She nodded, turned to leave, and hovered by the stairs. She looked back and he was watching her. “Commander…?” He seemed surprised that she had turned around, “I… yes? Inquisitor?” She tilted her head, trying to decide how to ask what she desperately wanted to know. “Did you leave anyone behind in Kirkwall?” Cullen shifted his weight, “No. I made few friends there, and my family’s in Ferelden.” She pressed on, “No one special caught your interest?” He raised his eyebrows at the question but responded, “Not in Kirkwall.”

 

Cold and Alone

“Maker, help me.” Exhausted, she sat on a small outcrop, head in her hands. Corpses of demons littered the small cave, remnants of a quick but tiring battle. Under different circumstances, she would have laughed in their faces when they appeared. She looked out into the snowstorm raging beyond the cave entrance, shoulders slumped in defeat.

The passage had taken her safely from Haven but leaving it would mean venturing out alone into the snowstorm. Everyone made it, they’ll be waiting at a camp nearby. She sat up and straightened her shoulders.”I am not going to die here.” She pulled her boot laces tight, clenched her fists, and walked out of the cave.  The wind kicked up snow with each step and tossed her cloak about like tissue paper.

She grit her teeth against the shock of the cold wind and reassured herself, “I am not dying here.” She squinted to see past the flurry of snowflakes, and could make out nothing in the vast whiteness.

Where could they have gone? Her heart fluttered in panic. She waded through the knee-deep snow, cursing her soft leather soled boots. Her feet were becoming wet and cold, and would soon freeze. Perfect for sneaking, terrible for walking in this snow-filled hell. Lelianna will not be impressed when I show her these boots, she thought wryly.

She looked up and squinted into the wind. She could make out trees and another shape ahead that looked like – a fire pit! Disappointment flooded her body when she reached out for the coals. They were frozen. It’s cold. Nothing. She gathered her cloak tighter to her body and trudged on as the chattering of her teeth accompanied the howling of the wind. She raised her head to look around and gasped as the wind found her throat. She bowed her head down and pushed forward through the trees.

As she walked, the howling of wolves sent jolts of adrenaline into her chest. She quickened her step and emerged from the trees to find the wind had calmed. Another small firepit was ahead. She leaned against a sturdy tree, closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

I never asked for this. A sob bubbled up from her throat. Maker help me, it’s so cold.  She exhaled slowly, holding back tears. She shuffled up to the firepit and stretched a hand out. Cold once more but… the embers were not frozen like the last. Recent?

Moving on, stumbling through the snow she let the tears come. Her entire body was shaking, the tears freezing on her cheeks; perhaps she could sit for a moment? She fell onto her knees, clutching her arms to her chest. She closed her eyes, waiting for exhaustion to take her.

“There, it’s her!” Imagining the Commander’s voice at a time like this? I am too cruel to myself. A small chuckle and another sob wracked her body.

“Thank the Maker.” Cassandra?

Strong hands lifted her from the snow, and she opened an eye to see the Commander, “C-cullen? Th-this is… n-not such a b-bad way to die.” He held her close, carrying her to camp and said softly, “You aren’t dead yet, Evelyn.” She smiled, and gratefully fell asleep in his arms.

The Commander pt 2

She walked out of the tavern after spending far too much time discussing the finer points of fletching on her arrows with Varric. She felt pleasantly light, duty forgotten and decided that now would be a good time to talk to Commander Cullen. If he is there, it’s quite late. She walked out of the gates and there he was, dismissing the last of the militia.

She waited near the edge of the training area while he spoke to the last men and women cleaning up. He looked up and waved her over, “Lady Herald. What can I do for you? It’s a little late to be out here, isn’t it?” He paused, setting practice swords into a nearby tent. Evelyn watched the last of the soldiers leave, clapping each other on their shoulders. “Maybe, but I like seeing the sunset. And the Breach looks a little less ominous in this light.” They stood in silence staring up at the hole in the sky.

She cleared her throat, “So, Commander, I  know a little about Templars but I had a few questions.” He looked surprised, “Oh, well, what would you like to know?”

She leaned against a tent support. “Do Templars take vows? I swear to the Maker to watch all the mages – that sort of thing?” She spread her hands in front of her making a sweeping motion, eyes wide.

He chuckled, “There’s a vigil first. You’re meant to be at peace during that time, but your life is about to change. When it’s over, you give yourself to a life of service. That’s when you’re given a philter – your first draught of lyrium – and its power. As Templars, we are not to seek wealth or acknowledgement. Our lives belong to the Maker and the path we have chosen.”

“A life of service and sacrifice.” She paused, running a hand through her hair. “Are… Templars also expected to give up… physical temptations?”

“Physical? Why -” He cleared his throat, “- why would you…” She raised an eyebrow at him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and crossed his arms. “That’s not expected. Templars can marry – although there are rules around it, and the Order must grant permission. Some may choose to give up more to prove their devotion, but its, um, not required.”

“Have you?”

“Me? I… uh… no. I’ve taken no such vows. Maker’s Breath – Can we speak of something else?”

She thought for a moment as the Commander raised an arm to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Varric and I were discussing fletching on arrows earlier, I don’t suppose you would care to discuss the finer points of archery?”

“I’m afraid I would be poor company for that discussion, my Lady.” He shrugged, “Archery is as foreign to me as a sword and shield are to you.”

She tapped her chin. “The Iron Bull mentioned he knew you were a Templar by the way you hold your shield. At an angle, to deflect spells and such. Do all Templars train that way?”

He uncrossed his arms, looking relieved at a suitable change of subject. “Yes, it’s an important part of Templar training. We can hardly watch over our charges if we can’t properly defend ourselves.” He looked over at the guards standing at the gates. “It’s nearly time for the outer gates to be closed. May I walk you back to the Chantry? I’m sure Cassandra would like to speak with both of us.”

“Certainly, Commander. Lead the way.” She let him walk a little ahead of her to hide the smirk she had been suppressing.