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Dear Commander - Chapter 25: Presumptions

Cullen x Trevelyan

AO3 MASTERLIST

After a tense war council, Cullen catches up with The Inquisitor outside of Skyhold's main hall.

Full chapter below:

The subtle hint of voices could be heard behind the war room doors, muffled but distinct—three voices, each speaking at once. Juliette sighed. They’re arguing again.

Her hand hovered in front of the door handle, hesitating as the cool metal pressed against her skin. Her breath was shaky, thoughts tangled and restless from a sleepless night. I can do this. A large, slow inhale lifted her shoulders as she prepared herself. Be firm. Authoritative. And for the love of Andraste, don’t look him in the eyes—that’s how he gets you.

“We simply don’t have the time! Tell them n—” Cullen’s voice halted as the creaking door echoed through the room. Juliette entered with her head bowed, eyes firmly glued to the floor. The room fell into silence, broken only by the tapping of her shoes as she moved quickly to Josephine’s side at the table.

Cullen’s eyes followed her, lingering on her dark, neatly brushed hair and how it fell over the sides of her face. Normally, she would toss it back or push it behind her ears, but today she wore it differently. Her hand rested against her forehead, an extra measure, it seemed, to ensure her face remained shielded from view.

“Apologies for being late to the war council,” Juliette said, her voice low and polished, as though she had rehearsed the words. She stood with her hands on her hips, eyes fixed on the map before her.

“Not a problem, Inquisitor. How was your rest? Is your room…” Josephine paused when Juliette looked up to meet her gaze, taken aback by the exhaustion in her eyes and the dark circles beneath them.

“It’s wonderful, thank you,” Juliette said with a dismissive nod, lowering her eyes once more.

“That’s good to hear,” Josephine said quietly, exchanging a glance with Leliana, who raised a brow in suspicion.

“Are these the reports?” Juliette asked, her hand extending towards the stack of papers neatly arranged in front of Josephine.

“Oh yes, here you are,” Josephine replied, swiftly passing them to her.

“The Denerim job is included?”

Cullen cleared his throat softly. “I have the full report, Inquisitor,” he said, sliding the papers across the table, his fingers stopping just short of Juliette’s hand.

Without glancing at him, she picked up the report and asked, “What happened? I only heard half the story from the scouts. I expected to hear from you.” Her voice held an unexpected coldness, emphasized by her refusal to meet his gaze.

“Messenger birds were few and far between once we reached the south, I’m afraid,” Cullen explained, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword as his eyes remained on Juliette, trying to gauge her mood.

Normally, when she entered a room, her presence carried a certain lightness. Today, however, she was like a storm—cold and distant. Cullen wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret the change in her demeanor, and judging by the awkward silence from both Leliana and Josephine, neither did they.

Juliette flicked through the reports, staring at the words without truly reading them. Sighing, she dropped the reports onto the table with a firmness that caused a sound. She turned to Leliana, her eyes serious. “We need birds in every camp. Communication must be open at all times.”

“Of course, Inquisitor,” Leliana said with a slight bow of her head. “I’ll see to it right away.”

“And mage healers,” Juliette added.

“Mage healers?” Cullen asked, a waver in his tone.

Juliette lifted her eyes, her gaze locking onto Cullen’s for the first time that day. A storm of emotions flickered across her face—determination, frustration, and evident exhaustion. “Mage healers,” she repeated, sternly.

They held eye contact for a few seconds that felt like an eternity, until Juliette broke away, her focus shifting back to the war table’s map. Her voice echoed in his mind, the way she had emphasized “mage” with a tone that carried a trace of disdain. He wondered if this had something to do with Varric’s book, if she read beyond the pages that he had marked for her. Of course she did. It was naive to think she wouldn’t.

His thoughts scattered when she spoke again, a severity to her voice that commanded his attention. “Nobody working for the Inquisition should suffer in pain for a lack of healing magic.” Juliette picked up the reports once more, flicking through them absently, just to have something to hold on to. “Even if they are too stubborn to admit that they need healing.”

“Oh, this is about Cassandra,” Leliana remarked with a subtle smirk.

Juliette's head snapped up, her voice rising. “It’s about anyone who may find themselves in danger by my order or by my hand.” She threw the reports down once more, the sound sharp against the table. Josephine, quick and composed, snatched them away before Juliette could reach for them again.

Cullen’s gaze softened as he noticed Juliette’s hand weave through her hair, coiling the ends around her finger. His tone gentler, he asked, “There were some discrepancies in the reports. What actually happened to Cassandra?”

With a quick, sharp breath Juliette snapped, “I lost control of my magic, okay?” Cullen blinked in response to her outburst, caught off guard by her sudden aggression. She shot him a brief, angry glance before looking away, her hand rising to her forehead. “It won’t happen again. I plan to ask Fiona for tuition,” she said, her words coming faster, her breath uneven. “These are mistakes we cannot afford.”

An awkward silence hung in the air. Cullen's brow furrowed slightly as he watched Juliette, and Leliana cast a wary glance between them. Josephine moved across the room, the sound of a chest opening loud against the quiet tension. She returned to her place beside Juliette and gently handed her a letter.

“This is from Queen Anora,” she said with a smile.

Juliette’s hand reached out for the letter, trembling slightly as she accepted it. “What is this?” she asked Josephine, her voice softer now, yet it carried a hint of sadness.

“It’s an apology of sorts—for the way she spoke to you in Redcliffe.”

Cullen scoffed. “We cleared the Venatori from her palace with as little much as a ‘thank you’. An apology is the least that she could manage.”

Leliana shrugged. “Think yourself lucky to receive that much.”

Juliette focused on the letter, reading softly under her breath. Josephine glanced at Cullen and asked, “Did Warden Blackwall invoke the treaties while you were there, Cullen?”

A smug grin grew on his lips. “It wasn’t necessary. After we paraded our soldiers through the streets, people from all over Ferelden were rushing to join us.” With a breathy chuckle he added, “I dare say we gained more influence in that hour alone than in months of pandering to nobility.”

Josephine’s pen scratched against her clipboard, louder than usual in the quiet room. “Well, I trust you won’t waste this opportunity, Commander, or the funds donated to our forces.”

“The timing couldn’t be better. With soldiers stationed in both Ostwick and White Spire, we were stretching thin.”

“Ostwick?” Juliette asked, lifting her head with curiosity. “What are they doing in Ostwick?”

“Aside from being harassed by your family? They’re searching for your phylactery,” Cullen explained. He turned to Leliana and asked, “Have you heard anything about that from the Chantry? I’d suspect that they’d want to locate it too.”

“Nothing,” Leliana said. “Their focus remains in Val Royeaux for now.”

Juliette folded her arms. “So why are we guarding White Spire? Shouldn’t that be the Chantry’s problem, not ours?”

“The Venatori remain a threat. There are still phylacteries there and the extra security is welcomed,” Leliana explained.

“And, it looks good for The Inquisition,” Josephine added.

Cullen shook his head, his expression hardening. “White Spire is as good as an armory. Those vials are weapons. If the Venatori get their hands on the phylacteries of just a few powerful mages, who knows the chaos they could unleash with their blood magic.”

Juliette stared at Cullen from across the table, her eyes narrowing with a sharp intensity, her arms still tightly folded. “It’s blood taken from people, not tools to be utilized. People.”

“I am aware,” Cullen replied, his own arms folding in response, eyes not once wavering from hers. They held eye contact for a moment as Cullen wondered what had caused her sudden attitude. So she did stray from the marked pages. I should never have sent her that book.

Juliette raised an eyebrow before speaking. “We’ll have them all destroyed. Simple.”

“Simple?” Leliana asked in shock at the same time Cullen unleashed a condescending laugh.

“You must be joking,” he said, the creases between his brows deepening the more he considered what Juliette had suggested. “The Chantry would see that as an attack!”

“ I agree with The Commander,” Leliana said. “That cannot come to pass, Inquisitor. At least not now, not at a time like this.”

Juliette and Cullen still held their gaze from opposite sides of the room until Juliette pulled her eyes away, looking down at her feet as she spoke. “It seems a waste of time and resources.” She scrunched her face and awkwardly shifted her weight. “The circles are no longer, I can’t see why… a reason, practically or ethically why they should still exist.”

Cullen stepped forward, his armor creaking and his boots thudding against the stone floor as he moved around the table. The sound made Juliette glance up, surprise flickering in her eyes. “If you push for this - you will start a war with the Chantry,” he warned, firmness in his tone, but with an underlying concern that softened the edge of his words. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the tension between them relaxed. Juliette’s shoulders loosened as she listened to his words, her sharp defiance dulling under his persistence.

Sensing a chance to add her opinion, Josephine spoke softly, ”We have only just convinced them to cooperate with us, Inquisitor.”

“I will do what is required to protect you, whatever that takes. And I will serve The Inquisition,” Cullen said, his voice low and unwavering, his eyes locked firmly onto Juliette’s. “But I will not willingly partake in starting another war.”

Juliette lowered her head, her breath catching in her throat as she swallowed hard. “Then do what you must,” she murmured with resignation. The usual spark in her tone had dimmed, replaced by a quiet defeat.

Cullen couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, concern showing in his expression. His brow furrowed, and his jaw tightened slightly as he took in every subtle movement she made—the nervous way she touched her hair, the tension in her clenched fists, and the restless shuffle of her feet. Her discomfort was clear and a protective instinct rose within him. He wanted nothing more than to offer her comfort, to ease what burdens were weighing her down. Though the longer he looked at her, the more his thoughts betrayed him, worrying that he was the cause of her unease. The possibility that he might be the source of her hostility made his chest tighten with guilt.

Juliette sighed heavily. “That is all?” She asked, looking to Josephine.

“Yes,” Leliana said, her eyes flickering between Cullen and Juliette. “I think we are done here.”

After drawing in a sharp breath Juliette said, “Very well, thank you.” She turned quickly, eyes on the floor as she rushed out of the room.

There was a silence after the door closed, tension still lingering in the air. “I know there must be more to it, but do you think that had anything to do with her room?” Josephine asked, her attention focused on her clipboard. She looked up from her notes. “Perhaps importing a bed from The Free Marches wasn’t the best idea.”

Leliana laughed softly, shaking her head. “You worry too much, Josie. That had nothing to do with it.”

Cullen sighed and hurried to the door.

Juliette was just seconds away from opening the door to the main hall when Cullen’s voice stopped her.

“Inquisitor! Wait!”

Slowly, she turned, her heart skipping a beat. Her fingers twitched, unsure where to place them, as she instinctively adjusted her hair. She avoided looking directly at him, instead focusing on the floor, her cheeks flushing with heat. Every breath felt too loud as she tried to appear composed, but the nervous flutter in her chest was relentless. She cleared her throat, a weak attempt at regaining some control. “Yes, Commander?”

The words left her lips before she had fully gathered herself, and she began to regret not moving faster. She hated feeling this way. She wasn’t sure how to be, who to be. Her intentions were to exude assertive authority—to be the leader they needed—but instead, she felt like a fool. A brat. And now, Cullen was again threatening her control before she had even truly grasped it, simply by existing in her presence.

“I didn’t mean to challenge you back there about the phylacteries.” Cullen stood in the doorway near Josephine’s office, leaving a narrow corridor between them. “It was nothing personal. Not against you.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” Juliette replied, forcing a smile. “You were right. I was not.” She exhaled loudly and turned her back to him. “There’s no need to speak of it.”

“You seem upset,” he remarked, his arms folding across his chest as his gaze remained steady on her.

She spun back around, her jaw clenched tightly, and little crinkles formed between her brows. Her eyes flashed with anger and defiance. “Is this where you tell me I’m being unreasonable, that I’m acting like a child?”

“Do… do you want me to think that?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

She scoffed, “Forget it,” and turned back to the door.

“Because I wouldn’t dare presume to know what you want.” Slowly, she faced him once more, surprised by his words. With slow, deliberate steps, he closed the distance between them. “Hence why I asked.” Cullen smirked, and she felt the muscles in her face tug, the irresistible urge to smile. She scrunched her face upon realizing it and yanked the door open.

Varric sat by the fireplace in the main hall, letters scattered across the table. The background chatter of nobility and dining guests had nothing on the raucous atmosphere of The Hanged Man tavern, though it smelled a lot less like sour ale, vomit, and desperation.

While crumpling a letter from the Merchant’s Guild, Varric looked up as a familiar figure approached. Dorian wove his way towards the rotunda door, slipping between gossiping nobles, a bottle of wine in each hand.

“Don’t let Josephine see that,” Varric warned, eyes narrowing as Dorian drew near.

“See what? My wit and charm? I have plenty of both,” Dorian replied with a smirk.

“Good luck out-charming the lady ambassador. She won’t hesitate to ban you from the wine cellar.”

“Speaking from experience, are we?”

“Not yet,” Varric said, tossing the scrunched-up letter into the fire. “Day’s still young.” Dorian was almost past the door when Varric called out again, “Hey!” Dorian stopped, poking his head back around the corner with a raised brow.

“Planning on settling that fifty crown debt anytime soon, Sparkler?”

“And if I don’t? Will you send tiny enforcers to strip me of my holdings?” Dorian quipped, his grin widening.

Varric’s eyes drifted across the hall as Juliette burst through the door. Her movements were hurried, her head down, and her cheeks flushed. Cullen followed closely behind, his smile hard to miss as he looked at her.

Varric glanced up at Dorian. “What if we made a bet to settle it all?”

Dorian let out an incredulous laugh. “I told you, I don’t take fool’s bets.”

Varric shook his head slowly. “What if we changed the terms?”

Cullen had caught up with Juliette, walking at her side as she exited the hall. “It doesn’t matter how much training you have, how hard you try—disaster is inevitable.”

At the top of the steps, she paused, looking out over the courtyard. “I hope that’s not the speech you use to motivate our troops, Cullen.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing in defeat. “That sounded much better in my head.”

A small giggle escaped her, one she quickly muted behind closed lips. “I’d like to hope so,” she murmured.

“What I meant to say is… I—”

“I know what you meant to say,” she reassured him, her tone softer now, with a hint of warmth. “Mistakes happen.”

Cullen leaned against the wall with folded arms, their conversation falling quiet while people moved past them to enter the hall. Juliette cast a glance over her shoulder, their eyes meeting for just a second before she returned her to gaze to the courtyard below. The morning sunlight bathed the yard in gold as workers and pilgrims wandered through. She let herself smile—just for a little while.

Once they found themselves alone again, Cullen stepped forward, standing next to her, his focus on the battlements in the distance. “If it brings you peace of mind, you can resume combat training. We have plenty of capable soldiers, some with experience in training recruits.”

“Oh, like yourself, you mean?” she teased, turning her face slightly to conceal the smile that she couldn’t seem to put away. So much for control.

“No, I’m not…” Cullen’s words trailed off as he chuckled, the sound light and airy. “I doubt you’d want to train with me.”

The thought sent a warm rush to Juliette’s cheeks, her blood still tingling from the sound of his voice. She bit back a grin, her smirk slipping through as she forced her voice, low and teasing. “There you go, making presumptions again.”

Cullen laughed, the sound near driving her mad. Juliette moved a hand to her face, hiding behind her palm as if it could shield her from the effect he had on her.

“Maker’s breath,” he said with a chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re impossible today, do you know that?”

She looked at him with a playful glare, her lips betraying any attempt to seem offended. “Hmm,” was the only noise could manage.

“All right,” he said leaning in just a tad closer. “If not the lieutenant that, uh…attempted to train you at Haven…”

Juliette tilted her head, smirking as his words trailed off.

“Then tell me, Inquisitor,” Cullen’s eyes met Juliette’s, the gold in them reflecting the sunlight. Her breath caught in her throat by the way he looked at her, so intense, so serious. “Who do you want?”

Oh don’t go asking that.

She tore her eyes away, a rush of heat flooding her cheeks. With a nervous swallow, she bowed her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I… um…” She inhaled quickly, almost gasping. “Briony!” she exclaimed. Straightening, she met his gaze again with forced conviction. “I want Knight Captain Briony.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. “Briony?”

“Yes! I heard about her performance at the tourney—it was quite impressive!” she said in a rush, her words tumbling over themselves. “Her equestrian combat skills were remarkable. To achieve that and win the…” Her voice trailed off when she noticed the way Cullen was looking at her. “What?” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips.

Cullen’s smile widened, faint lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “Nothing, Inquisitor,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I can’t say that I’m surprised, but Knight Captain Briony is still in The Free Marches. You’ll have to settle for someone else.” Turning, he began descending the steps.

“Well, I’m certain that you’ll figure something out, Commander,” Juliette called after him.

He glanced back over his shoulder, a smirk lingering. “If there’s anything you need of me, I’ll be in my office.”

“Oh, they gave you an office too?” she teased with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Cullen looked back at her, one last time, grinning at her comment, before turning and walking away.

Juliette leaned against the balustrade, her fingers brushing idly along the cool stone. The other hand rested lightly against her lips, while her eyes followed Cullen across the courtyard below. There was an effortless confidence in the way he walked, a natural command in his presence. Officers stepped aside with quiet respect, and even the tavern patrons seemed to make way for him. The sunlight danced across his armor, catching its polished surface and making it almost impossible not to look. She was drawn to him, try as she might to convince herself otherwise.

That laugh of his echoed in her mind, light and unguarded, a sound she wasn’t willing to forget. The curve of his smile lingered, replaying over and over, each memory drawing a warmth to her cheeks. She sighed softly, her lips curling into a smile behind her fingers.

A breeze swept across the courtyard, embracing her with its cool touch. It lifted her hair, the soft strands brushing against her cheeks, and sent the fabric of her dress fluttering against her legs. For a moment, her mind was carried away with it, adrift in a daydream she couldn’t resist.

Her fingers glided down her neck, absently landing on her collarbone. With light caresses, she moved her fingertips, her mind lost with thoughts of Cullen, and all the things that she wish she could tell him.

She wanted him to know. It was a dangerous thought, but she couldn’t keep deceiving herself. She played the moment out in her mind—how she’d say it, how he’d react in a perfect world. But of course, nothing about this was perfect, right, or appropriate. If there was nothing holding her back, no stakes, she’d tell him.

Had she the courage, she’d tell him that his smile makes her heart skip a beat, that when he is near her body tingles—like magic, powerful and forbidden. She would show him. That she wanted to feel his warmth against her skin, her lips pressed to his, his hands exploring her. Just one look from him could be enough to unravel her completely. And if he felt the same, if he craved her the way she craved him…

The quiet sound of someone clearing their throat snapped Juliette from her fantasy. She jolted, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as her cheeks flushed in mortified awareness.

“Have a thing for strapping young templars, I see.”

She spun around, her lips parted in shock, her heart racing. Dorian leaned casually against the wall near the hall’s entrance, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “What? I…”

He took a step closer, the bottles of wine in his arms shifting slightly. “Care for a drink?” He extended an arm, wiggling one of the bottles enticingly.

Juliette shook her head, still wearing the shocked expression on her face. “What are you on about?” she asked, quickly turning her back to him to hide the blush in her cheeks.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied, his tone light and amused. “Just something I find rather adorable about you.”

“Puppies are adorable,” she shot back with an eye-roll. “This? This is not—” She sighed, cutting herself off.

“And yet,” he countered, his smirk widening, “you can’t deny it.” He raised the bottle to his lips, taking a casual swig

“I’m not—” she started, her voice defensive, but his expression silenced her. Narrowing her eyes, she crossed her arms. “Are you seriously going to drink that? Here? Now? Like that?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, her tone unconvincing.

“Oh, come now!” Dorian exclaimed, feigning outrage. “I heard what you said to him at the gates yesterday. Quite the hilarious little blunder.”

Juliette groaned, her hands flying to cover her face. “What are you trying to do?” she asked, her voice a sharp whisper as nobles and soldiers passed by. “Is this some kind of blackmail?”

“So it is true!” he said with a mock look of shock on his face.

“Ugh,” she groaned again, spinning on her heel and marching towards the hall. “I never said that! I—oh, Maker help me.”

Dorian’s laughter echoed as he followed her, his long strides easily keeping pace while Juliette fired forced smiles at the nobility she passed on her way to her quarters. “If you must talk to me, let it be another topic please,” she said behind gritted teeth.

“Anything? Truly? All right!” His tone brightened with mischief.

She stopped dead in her tracks, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Oh, I’m going to regret this.”

“Your Harrowing,” he began dramatically, pointing a finger before she could interrupt. “Ah-ah! You said anything!”

Juliette folded her arms, her lips curving into a sarcastic smile. “Come closer,” she said sweetly, ��and I’ll tell you.”

Dorian’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?”

“I will tell you,” she repeated, her voice low and secretive. She beckoned him closer with a small tilt of her head. The moment his ear was within reach, Juliette leaned in and whispered, “With. My. Dying. Breath.”

Before he could respond, Juliette spun abruptly, the fabric of her dress swaying as she moved towards her quarters. She ripped open the door, stepped inside, and slammed it firmly in his face.

Dorian stared at the closed door, blinking. “This is why I adore you so, Inquisitor!” he called out, his voice loud enough to draw stares from those gathering by the dining tables.

From the other side, Juliette leaned against the door, closing her eyes with a long, exasperated sigh.

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9:52 Pavellan -- (please don't tag/comment with your inquisitor, thanks)

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Merrill <3

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"Some call you Hero, and some call you Queen

But to me, you're the last rose of Lothering."

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In the study prints | wizardly wand (nakey) ver on patreon

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morning at the Denerim Royal Palace <3

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Davrin / cameo

My beloved Warden, it was a pleasure to look intensely at your handsome face for so long in order to portray you. ...

Available on my Redbubble shop Check the whole cameo series here.

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bg3 spoiled me, this is how DAV should've gone. lucanis and davrin settling their differences over a nice sandwich.

Explicit

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*BAP* Assan is half bird, half cat. So this joke just had to be made.

My headcannon is that Cullen and the Inquisitor come to help Rook and they brought their dog.

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My Garrett Hawke. This one was made for DAD 2023.

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This portrait was drawn for Dragon Age Day, December 4th.

This mage is the most handsome and the most fancy dressed mage of Inquisition. It's been so many years, but I'm still crazy about him.

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Cullen and 8yo Loshe

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"I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this... darkness."

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what's a little private wedding ceremony at Honnleath between some homies?

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Of all the things we should've said that we never said

All the things we should've done that we never did

All the things that you needed from me

All the things that you wanted from me

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🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁my other inquisition mreow

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between the letter you can find, Dorian’s end of the world teasing and my baby girl Inquisitor thinking of her squad I am experiencing a nostalgia trip akin to the one from ratatouille.