#cullenxlavellan

[sapphireangelbunny]

The Lost Halla - Prologue (on Wattpad)

 https://www.wattpad.com/1349988252-the-lost-halla-prologue?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=SapphireAngelBunny 

 Kayla never felt at home anywhere, even among her loving dalish clan. Her keeper sends her to investigate the Conclave. A gathering of mages and templars in a last test for peace. Kayla is thrown into the mess when the Temple of Sacred Ashes explodes, killing everyone inside but her. 

Note: This is the tale of my kayla lavallen through out the story of Dragon Age Inquisition I don't own the characters that are based on the Dragon Age Inquisition video game, all credit to Bioware and their respective owners.

[sapphirebunnyart]

Love transcends worlds. 💕 Mermay part 2! This time with Kayla as a blue sea dragon axolotl and Cullen being the human that falls in love with her. ----- Commissions are open, link in bio! See full wips by supporting me on my kofi membership for as little as $1 a month https://ko-fi.com/sapphireangelbunny

[browniejeane]

Got hit with some fucking CullenxLavellan brain rot recently. And now I wanna write a 5+1 of them. What is my idea? Fucking..."5 times Cullen walked in on the Inquisitor bathing, and 1 time he didn't." IDC if nobody reads it. I just need to get it out of my brain before Veilguard drops.

[tired-truffle]

Something’s Gotta Give

A CullenxLavellan fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.2k

Part 3 - Somebody's Daughter

"You were born to rend galaxies from the sky so curl your hands into fists, and sharpen your nails. the next time a man tells you to smile show him bloodstained teeth." - the female of the species// l.s.

Trigger warnings: Verbal abuse from parent.

Masterlist

“You had one task, Ashvalla.” Her mother’s lips wrinkled in a stern frown. “I did not think it too difficult an ask to keep your sister out of harm's way, yet you have failed once again.”

Her mother had always been warm and kind, a soft smile, a comforting touch. She’d been born to be a mother, or so the elders told her. Ash loved her mother, looked up to her and the strength she held in the straightness of her spine, the fierceness with which she protected her family. 

But her kindness had a limit. One that Ash seemed to reach more often than not. It was difficult to predict, some mornings her mother would wake her up with a smile, a cheery song on her lips, but others… Ash didn’t like to think about those days. She tried so hard to stay in her mother’s good graces, but no matter how hard she tried, she always managed to slip up. A toy left on the ground, forgotten in play, her mother seethed, accusing Ash of putting it in her way in an attempt to cause her pain when she stepped on it. Rae cried when Ash tripped and fell on her small building of sticks, her mother had accused her of purposefully destroying her sister’s project out of jealousy. 

Protesting only made it worse. Ash had learned quickly that if she shut up and took her mother’s wrath, the punishments were less severe. Even more so if Ash did something to make up for it later - clean the dishes without being asked, make Rae’s bed, sweep out their aravel.

Sometimes they’d go days, weeks without incident, and Ash would blissfully wonder if she had finally done enough to make her mother happy. But it was never enough.

“I tried, mamae, but she wouldn’t—“

Her mother raised a hand, silencing Ash with one simple gesture. “If you truly cared, you would not have to try, it would simply be done. You’re slacking, Ashvalla. I always knew you were…content to be complacent, but I never thought you’d allow this.” 

With a sharp swipe, her mother held her arm out towards the mass by her feet. Ash squinted her eyes against the dark of the room. Where exactly were they? All she could see was her mother and that mass, the rest of the space stretching out like an impassable cavern. 

No, not a mass, a body. With a sneer curling her lip, her mother placed her foot on the body’s hip, shoving it onto its back. 

All air vanished from Ash’s lungs, her throat constricting around a scream. Her knees hit the ground, the uneven surface digging into her skin. Wetness coated her cheeks, but she didn’t know when she had started crying. All she knew was that body, the one lying limp on the ground, staring up with lifeless eyes, was Rae. 

“No,” Ash sobbed, her chest convulsing as she tried to hold back her cries of anguish - they would only anger her mother further. “No, she’s not— she can’t—“

“This is your fault. You might as well have killed her yourself.” A green light flared on Rae’s palm, the mark of the Herald. 

Ash pulled her sister’s limp body onto her lap, her tears falling onto her pale face, her lips blue, her chest still. This couldn’t be possible, Rae couldn’t be…

“She wouldn’t listen to me,” Ash sniffled, “I tried to warn her, I—“

The sharp sting of a hand across her cheek halted her tangential speech. Ash kept her head bowed, unable to bring herself to look up at her mother’s hatred. She’d never hit her before, but then again, Ash had never made such a grievous error.  

“I raised you better than this. You’re careless, selfish actions cost your sister her life. You are no daughter of mine, you are nothing.” 

Ash’s head snapped up, staring at her mother with wide eyes and parted lips. Her mother took a step back, a disgusted scoff spat in Ash’s direction. 

“Mamae…please don’t go.” She sounded pathetic, even to her own ears. Her sister lay dead in her arms but all she could think of was her own comfort. Her mother was right; she was selfish. 

This was all her fault, this was all her fault, this was all her fault. 

With a quick, graceful turn on her heels, the woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to her, who had brought her into this world and guided her through it, strode into the shadows.

“Mamae, no! Come back! Don’t leave me, I need you!” Ash cried, but no amount of screaming and begging would bring her back. 

“Please…” she choked on a sob, curling herself around Rae’s body, squeezing her eyes shut as though she could block out the sight. “Please, I can’t do this on my own.”

The faint scent of smoke invaded her nostrils, prickling at the back of her throat. Her brows pinched, eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the early morning light. Where had Rae gone? She’d been holding her body only moments ago, and now the weight of her lifeless corpse had vanished, replaced by the burning furs she’d haphazardly kicked off in her restless sleep.

Except the furs were not supposed to be burning.

When heat began to lick across her skin, she jolted. Releasing a string of colourful curses, she summoned her ice magic, spreading a thick layer of frost across the burning corner of her bedroll. 

Staring down at the now charred fur, she bit back a scream of frustration. Rae was away somewhere and Ash couldn’t keep her safe, her dreams refused to stop tormenting her, and now her blanket was burned. To make matters worse, Sweetpea was nowhere to be found. All she wanted was a little comfort, was that too much to ask? Rae had only been gone for a few days, but to Ash it felt like weeks.

Love stirred in her chest, and Ash placed a hand over her heart. The spirit had been active as of late, likely a result of their reaffirmed deal. While it had unnerved her at first, the warmth that now spread through her limbs, radiating from Love, was most welcome. It was like the tight hug of a mother to their child, one without any expectations or conditions. One she had never received. 

Dispelling the sound proof barrier she’d cast over her tent - no one needed to know how often she woke up screaming, she threw on her robes, and tied her hair in a half-hearted braid. Ready as she was ever going to be, she strode from her tent and into the morning mist. The sun sat only half visible on the horizon, clouds already moving to cover it.

As she walked through the quiet camp, it slowly came to life around her. Soldiers emerged from their tents, yawning and stretching, while the kitchen staff bustled about, preparing the morning meal. The clanging of pots and pans mingled with the distant chirping of birds, a song she was slowly growing accustomed to.

Ash's eyes were drawn to the training fields, usually a hive of activity during the day. At that early hour, they stood empty, save for a lone figure silhouetted against the rising sun. She squinted, recognizing the familiar fur-lined mantle and broad shoulders of Commander Cullen.

He stood with his back to her, dwarfing the rickety wooden table before him. A stack of papers teetered precariously in his left hand, while his right flipped through them with practiced efficiency. His brow was furrowed in concentration, lips moving silently as he read.

Perfect, someone to take her irritation out on. 

She planted her feet. No, she thought to herself, that is wholly unfair. I will not treat him poorly simply because I am upset. I’ll wait until he says something stupid and then it will be justified.

As she approached, her bare feet made little sound. She was always warm, though she never burned with a fever, she rarely found the cold bothering her. Bare feet was a Dalish custom - to keep one connected to nature - and though it wasn’t frequently practiced in snowy climates, Ash had yet to experience any issues. 

It also helped to keep her footsteps quiet, making it much easier to sneak up on ex-Templars too wrapped up in their reports to notice her arrival. 

“Good morning, Commander,” she quipped a touch too loud. He startled, spinning around to where she stood at his side, hands clasped behind her back. “Do you usually work at such a Gods-forsaken hour?”

Pressing his hands down his chest to smooth his cloak and calm his racing heart, he said, “At this time I can get work done without any interruptions,” he shot her a pointed look, “typically, that is.”

Ash smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes. “Sounds terribly boring.”

He shook his head with a long suffering sigh, but she didn’t miss the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She’d come here to bug him, hadn’t she? “May I ask why you’re awake, if this is such a horrible time of day?”

She shrugged, focusing on watching the sunrise. “Sleep was boring too. I just can’t win.”

He hummed his understanding, though she disliked the sympathetic tone. He shouldn’t be able to read her so easily, but he was a soldier, if anyone was familiar with nightmares it would be him. “That cat of yours isn’t able to keep you entertained?”

“Sweetpea stole the chicken off my plate yesterday, we’re on bad terms.” Damned cat. She wished she’d stop sulking in the barn, her reprimand hadn’t been that harsh. 

Cullen chuckled, a smirk shot her way that had no business being as handsome as it was. “I wonder where she learned that from.”

Clutching her chest in mock offence, she lifted her nose in the air. “That’s a rude assumption. I was raised with manners. Rae on the other hand…” 

“Ah, of course, how could I forget the Herald’s eating habits.”

As much as she wanted to defend her sister, this was the one thing she never could. “The more I tried to teach her the worse she got. She never does listen to me, even though I’m right.”

Cullen snorted, though quickly tried to cover it up by clearing his throat. “Yes, I’m beginning to see that.”

Silence settled between them as Ash’s gaze returned to the horizon, her mind replaying her mother’s words over and over again. It was her fault, she should try harder. But the harder she tried the more Rae resisted. Stubborn to a fault, though Ash had no leg to stand on there. That particular quality ran in the family. That and a quick temper, not always the best mix. 

“I suppose I should find someone else to bother and let you get back to your work.” Ash broke the quiet, tilting her face up towards him. 

“May I suggest you avoid Josephine? I learned the hard way that mornings…aren’t her favourite.”

“Really? I have a hard time picturing her ever being anything less than pleasant.” Ash mulled this over, but try as she might, she couldn’t envision Josephine with a scowl. 

“Let’s pray you never find out.” 

“I thank you for your warning, Ser. I shall endeavour to avoid her.” She may have laid the tease too hard on the honorific as his eyes narrowed at her, his brows creasing. 

Making a hasty exit, she let her feet carry her backwards. “See you around, Commander,” she called with a wave, but his brow only creased more. Ooh, she’d done it again. 

But before he could raise the issue, she was off, making her way towards the stables. If anyone would tolerate her pestering, it was Sweetpea, and she really should find the silly little creature. If she must, Ash would apologize for snapping at the cat the day before, though Sweetpea should know Ash well enough by now to leave her food alone. Sweetpea was lucky she still had all her tiny toes attached to her body for her egregious theft. Ash had taken more for less. 

Sweetpea snuggled in her lap, having long since moved past purring, now resting in a deep sleep. After a night with the horses, she’d been more than happy to forgive and forget. How she could sleep in the raucousness of the pub, Ash did not understand, but she did - slightly jealously - admire it. 

Varric sat across from her, nursing a large tankard of some foul-smelling Shem'len beer. Taking up an entire bench was the Iron Bull, all hulking Qunari mass and manly charisma. She’d met them, albeit briefly, as her sister toured her around Haven. Rae had informed her about all of her companions, how they’d come to join, what they were like, and who she trusted most. Those two wouldn’t have been Ash’s top choices, the author always looking for his next scoop, and Qunari spy, but they had been at the top of Rae’s list.

She wasn’t sure how she’d been roped into joining their table. One moment she’d walked up to the bar, intent on drowning her nightmares in alcohol when they still wouldn’t leave her alone come dinner time, and the next she was being cajoled into sitting with them. 

“So,” Varric leaned forward, his elbow resting on the table, “care to share with the audience what our dear Herald was like to grow up with?”

Ah, so that was the angle for dragging her over. “Tell an author and a spy about Rae’s secrets? What kind of sister do you take me for?” Ash slung her arm over the back of her chair, her legs crossed and robe fallen to the side revealing a dangerous amount of thigh. 

“Who said anything about secrets?” Varric waved her off. “All I’m asking for are some entertaining stories from her youth.”

She knew better than to trust someone who made their living off of revealing other people's secrets, but there was something to be said about embellishing the narrative to boost one’s public image. However, she couldn’t give in that easily. “I’m not sure what kind of stories you’re hoping for, but I’m not here to betray Rae’s trust.” 

Iron Bull leaned forward, his deep voice rumbling through their small corner of the tavern. “Oh, come on now,” he said with a sly smirk that gave his imposing features an almost open quality. “It doesn't have to be anything too juicy. Just a funny story or two about the Herald as a kid."

As he spoke, Ash noticed his eye flick briefly to the dotted scars around her lips. The movement was subtle, barely perceptible, but she caught it nonetheless. To his credit, he didn't comment or let his gaze linger. His discretion was refreshing, though it made her wonder what other details he was quietly cataloging about her.

She ran her tongue along the inside of her lower lip, feeling the raised ridges of scar tissue.

“We’re not looking for anything scandalous or incriminating,” added Varric, “just some harmless fun.” 

“Well, when you put it that way, there are a few I could share,” she said with a grin to match those of the men across the table. “But only because it’s my job as her elder sister to share her most entertaining moments.”

Varric nodded solemnly. “We only want to support you in your familial duties, that’s all.”

Ash snorted, shaking her head as she took another sip from her tankard. “There was this one time when Rae saved our Halla herd. You should have seen her, hollering at them from atop her Halla before they ran off the cliff’s edge. She was eight at the time, and let me tell you, she was fearsome, even then.”

Ash smiled fondly as she recalled the memory. Though she and her sister had their differences, that day had shown Ash just how brave and selfless - and incredibly reckless - Rae could be.

"She rode right into the middle of the panicking herd and turned them back from the cliffside through sheer willpower alone," Ash continued. "She may have been small, but she refused to let that stop her."

Iron Bull let out an impressed chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds like our Herald. Never backs down from a challenge."

"It reminds me of the time Hawke single-handedly faced down that dragon in the Bone Pit," Varric sipped at his ale. "Rae's got that same crazy courage."

The three of them swapped stories late into the night, and though Ash was hesitant at first, she found herself growing comfortable in their company. There was an easy camaraderie between them, built on humour and bold honesty.

By the time Ash finally headed back to her tent, her boots crunching in the thin layer of snow coating the ground, the moons were high in the night sky. She felt pleasantly warm from the mead - and from Love’s magic burning inside her - and despite her initial wariness, she had to admit she'd enjoyed herself.

Most of Haven was already asleep, just a few guards stationed around the perimeter. Their torches cast flickering pools of light along the paths. As Ash drew nearer to the main gate, she could hear muted voices drifting through the darkness from around the side of a merchant’s hut. She slowed her pace, straining to make out the words.

"…seen the way she walks around here? Flaunting those curves and Maker, those robes leave little to the imagination." A man's gravelly tone, followed by rough laughter.

"Aye, bet she's eager to spread those pretty legs for any man in the Inquisition. The Herald may be uptight, but her sister ain’t." More laughter, crude and mocking. "I'd show her a good time, that's for sure."

It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before. She was well aware of how men reacted to her body. Yes, her robes could be classified as revealing, but it wasn't just about what she wore - even when she tried to dress modestly, following society's standards of ‘appropriate’ attire for women, it never seemed to matter. It didn’t matter that her stomach was rounded or her thighs double the size of her sister’s, men would still leer at her, their eyes roaming over her body with a hunger that made her skin crawl. And then there were the comments - crude remarks disguised as jokes that left a sour taste in her mouth. She knew all too well the feeling of unwanted hands reaching out to touch her, and she had quickly learned how to defend herself. If they were lucky, they would leave with their hands intact. To gain some control over these situations, she played the part of an aloof flirt, using her charms to distract them from their inappropriate behaviour. It was a tactic that rarely failed - men found it difficult to refuse her requests when they were too busy ogling at her cleavage or the way her skirt swayed dangerously close to revealing too much. 

Though, they never seemed to want more than that, a quick fuck, over too quick for her to derive any enjoyment. No, her body wasn’t the issue, it was her. She was well aware of all her faults, it did no one any service not to be. She could hide them all behind her flirtations, distracting from what she knew deep down would always scare them away.

As Ash moved to continue her walk to bed, lacking the energy to deal with the soldiers, she was stopped in her tracks as a familiar voice cut through their conversation. 

“Watch your tongue,” the Commander barked, and she could only imagine the irritated scowl that must accompany such a spitting reprimand. 

"We were just having a bit of fun. Don't you think she would be up for it, Commander?" the soldier’s said in an almost lazy drawl. 

“What you were speaking of is neither respectful nor appropriate. Miss Lavellan is here to aid the Inquisition, not to be the target of your derogatory comments." Ash wasn’t sure why the Commander coming to her defence surprised her. He had never been unkind. Suspicious at first, yes, but he seemed to be that sort of man. 

“Oh, cut the Chantry mother bull, Commander. You're telling me you wouldn't want to get your hands on her—“ The shuffle of fabric and clank of armour cut the soldier off before he could continue. Unable to resist, Ash peeked around the corner of the hut, watching as Cullen held the soldier by his collar - a wiry man with a scruffy blonde beard - pulling him off balance. 

“I’m only going to say this once,” he dropped his voice into a low threat, a growl in his throat. "If I hear one more vile word out of your mouth about Miss Lavellan, or any other woman for that matter, I will personally make sure the only thing you will be putting your hands on will be the shovel used to muck out the stables. Is. That. Clear?"

The man gave a sharp nod, his body taut and his eyes wide, but he didn't utter a word in response.

"Good. Now get back to work, you have a patrol to finish,” Cullen ordered with a small shove, watching as the men began to depart, some more reluctantly than others. Once the last man was gone, the Commander released a heavy exhale, bringing his hand up to brush back his hair.

Ash stepped out from around the corner, a hand on her cocked-out hip as she plastered a cheeky grin across her face. “A gentleman who defends my honour, I sure am lucky I met you, Commander.”

Cullen's head snapped in her direction, his brows raising. “You—" A heavy sigh. "You heard all that?"

“I did.”

His expression shifted then, his jaw clenching. “Maker…I apologize on behalf of my men, that was disgraceful and I will ensure it won’t happen again.”

Ash made her way over to him, standing far enough away that it would be considered proper. There was no need to invade his personal space after he’d done something considerate - defending her honour like some knight in shining armour. Except this knight had worn Templar armour up until recently. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

"That doesn’t make it right," he protested firmly. 

“No, it doesn’t.” She paused, giving him a thoughtful once-over before lowering her voice. “I suppose I should say thank you for telling them off. You didn’t have to, especially not for someone you barely know, but I…appreciate it.”

He blinked as if surprised by the sincerity in her tone, but he nodded his acknowledgment. “Of course. And please, inform me if my men ever say or do anything of the sort again. They will be appropriately disciplined.” 

He just had to make it so easy. She couldn’t resist, and with a salacious smirk, her eyes half-lidded, she purred, “I’d love to hear what your favoured form of discipline is, Commander.”

His ears and cheeks flushed immediately, his gaze dipping downwards to the exposed flesh of her chest as she leaned forward, before quickly snapping back up to her face. 

"I- well—" he began, his words faltering as his blush deepened. He tried to clear his throat, but it did nothing to help, and he ran a hand through his hair. “It would depend entirely on the situation.”

“Interesting.” Ash rocked back on her heels, giving herself a moment to consider. “If I find any more of your misbehaving recruits I’ll be sure to send them your way.” 

He nodded, though the blush spreading down his neck refused to subside. 

“Goodnight, Commander,” Ash said with a wicked grin, stepping away from him as Love stirred in her chest, eager to see just how far that blush went.

He dropped his hand, a weariness settling around his eyes. “Goodnight, Miss Lavellan, and I’m sorry, again.”

Ash shrugged as she turned around, waving over her shoulder. “Stop calling me Miss Lavellan and we can call it even.”

Ash left the Commander behind and made it back to her tent without further incident, the chill night air nipping at her bare legs and arms, though she barely felt it. She ducked inside and sank down on top of her bedroll with a sigh, running her fingers through her hair to brush out the tangles.

She was beginning to see how easily she'd misjudged the Commander. When she'd arrived at Haven, she'd seen him as just another Templar, bound to dislike and distrust her simply for being a mage. Especially a Dalish mage, about as far from a loyal Circle servant as one could get.

But he hadn't acted that way. Stern, serious, and hopelessly awkward he may be, but he'd defended her tonight without hesitation. She appreciated that more than she wanted to admit.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she recalled how flustered he’d gotten at her teasing. It was too easy to make that stoic soldier blush, and she couldn't seem to stop herself from trying. It was simply a minor rebellion, a mage provoking a former Templar, and nothing more. It couldn’t be anything more. He was…safe to flirt with. A man like him - staunch and a firm abider of rules - could never want anything from a woman like her. No doubt he found her lack of propriety grating, her teasing irritating - and if he didn’t yet, he would soon.

That’s just how reality was. There was no changing who they were, nor would Ash want to. There was no real attachment, no threat of deeper feelings causing complications.

A little bit of fun never hurt anyone.

Next Chapter

A/N: I hope you enjoy their interactions so far! Let me know what you think :)

[eryniell]

My Lavellan ranger - Dragon Age Inquisition

[suck-on-a-fire-ball]

Blueberries

This is what happens when I eat blueberries and see my purple lips in the mirror and suddenly find myself wishing Cullen could kiss it away...

Cullen’s thumb moving along her bottom lip - not yet painted blood red. It made her feel as though she was stood in front of him naked, and yet he didn’t mind, still letting his thumb touch her lip. She had to fight the urge not to purse her lips and kiss his thumb; not to let her desires get the better of her. 

If this was the aftermath of eating blueberries... then Luthien would eat blueberries every minute of the hour. 

❀❀❀❀❀

Spring time had finally arrived at Skyhold. Birds were flying overhead, making little nests in the trees of the courtyard and in the various attics, high up in the towers of the magnificent castle. 

Their chirps woke Inquisitor Luthien Lavellan up each morning now, and it made her smile. It reminded her of home - of her time sleeping under the starlit skies with her clan. 

With spring, though, came not only birds and warmer winds, but also berries. Luthien always made sure to spare some time for berry picking in the mornings before the daily war table meetings. Of course there was no forest nearby that would give her the chance to go properly picking those juicy little things, but the courtyard were filled with surprisingly many bushes of various sorts. And Luthien had been quick to see that some of these were berry bushes. 

During one of these mornings, Luthien found herself not to be alone. This was odd, because the castle didn’t dully wake up until an hour later. Of course there would be servants already at work, and some guards sleepily making their way through the last hour or two of their night shifts, and the occasional Cole watching her in his normal, crouched fashion - peeking at her from under his large hat. But no one else would usually be present. That morning, Cullen was. 

He had appeared quite suddenly, standing a little ways away from her. Her elven ears had picked up on the clang of his armour with each footstep he took, recognizing it without having needed to glance his way... she would recognize his footsteps anywhere, with or without that armour on. 

But he had not approached her. He had just... stayed. And watched. A bit like Cole would, though... with a less creepy “why would you be picking their babies” look on his face. Instead... he looked enamored, golden eyes watching her every move, her every flick of the wrist as she picked and picked and picked. 

Until she couldn’t take it anymore - too hot and bothered to be able to be watched by this man. So, holding her little basket of blueberries, Luthien stood and approached him. For some reason, Cullen seemed taken aback, as though he had been stealthy and she shouldn't have noticed his presence. Without a word, Luthien held out the basket to him. 

He blinked. 

A soft giggle passed her lips. They weren’t painted blood red as usual, having not spent time on getting ready for the day yet. She was just there before him, wearing her nightgown and a robe over it, hair still braided back, slightly tousled and messy from a good night’s sleep. 

Green eyes blinked up at him: “Do you want to try some, Commander?” 

“I...” 

Whatever words he wanted to say faded away either from his lips or his mind. She noted this happened after he looked back at her. And much to her surprise, a gloved hand reached out and grasped the basket she was holding. His hand had brushed against hers, and her fingers tightened its hold on the braided twigs of the handle. She wished his hand hadn’t missed...

“I would love to,” he finally said, his free hand dipping down into the basket’s content. 

As he ate some, Luthien found herself staring at his lips movement. In order to distract herself, she quickly dipped her hand into the basket too and filled her mouth with some berries. 

There was a silence as the two munched away. Neither were uncomfortable, but both were glancing down at the others’ lips continuously. 

“You...” Cullen swallowed and pointed at her. She blinked in confusion. “You have some...” 

Tilting her head, Luthien remained staring at him in confusion. 

“You have some...” Though he seemed unable to speak the words. Placing the end of his glove between his teeth, he slid his hand out. The glove fell to the grass by their feet. Naked fingers reached out to her lips. 

And upon the touch, both let go of the basket. It too fell down, spreading blueberries everywhere - though neither noticed. 

Both stared as Cullen cupped her cheek, letting his thumb brush along her bottom lip so slowly it turned sensual. Luthien had to fight the urge to purse her lips and kiss his thumb. “Your lip is purple...” They almost looked terrified as they stared, their breaths hitching as though a single exhale would blow this fragile moment away. Luthien was worried this moment would end too soon, and Cullen was worried she would flinch away.

And perhaps she would have, had this been any other man. 

“Blueberries do that...” she breathed, completely lost in the feeling of his touch. 

“Do I have it?” he asked, urging her to glance down at his lips. The shift of her gaze made his hand shift, almost holding a tighter grip. 

“Not yet...” she whispered. 

“A-Are you asking me for a kiss?” he breathed. 

She didn’t say anything. She had, but if he had thought she had meant the blueberries, she wouldn’t have said any different either. She was just relieved he had caught on. 

When he captured her lips, the kiss felt sweet. Sweet because of the taste of blueberries, and sweet because of his ever so gentle nature. Her hand grasped his wrist, holding it steady against her cheek and loving the feeling of being completely engulfed in Cullen when he placed his other hand carefully on her waist. 

They stopped the kiss whilst their lips were still against each other, pulling away so slowly it felt like neither were. Their breaths still entangled, both stared at each other, staying in that position.

“I come here every morning...” breathed Luthien against his lips. 

“Then I shall be here every morning too...” 

Luthien smiled. Spring was a time for new beginnings, as the birds building nests showed. The prospect of a morning kiss every day was a new beginning for them... 

And standing there, still in the aftermath of their first morning kiss, both already longed for their next one. 

[sratsome-jack]

He was a human, she was an elf. Can I make it anymore obvious?

He was a templar, she was a mage. What more can I say?

[cimooch]

I edited my last fanart of DA:Inquisition to somewhat matched my current style. I did this a while ago but forgot to upload it here, so here it is.

[psyoni]

Cullen and Lauren Lavellan by Agregor

My OC Lauren Lavellan and Cullen From Dragon Age: Inquisition Cullen Romance I still practicing a new style.

[moonmythology]

What it Feels Like to Be Human --Chapter 3: A Dalish Promise

Synopsis: Athdhea Lavellan always wanted to find out what it means to be human. Becoming the Herald of Andraste taught her to be careful of what one wishes for. So far away from home, she finds herself drawn towards her Commander, despite their differences, and a mysterious elf, who has always been in her dreams. CullenxLavellanxSolas.

Chapter Overview: Cullen and Athdhea disagree about either allying with the mages or the templars. While they may not see eye to eye, Athdhea makes him a promise--a promise that she fulfills in a way that he does not expect.

This fic is also in fanfiction.net and AO3

"For the last time: you cannot go to the mages!" shouted Cullen. "You're letting your emotions keep you from making rational decisions."

"And I am telling you: the Templars will not be an option!" Athdhea snapped back.

"You cannot blame the deaths of your Mother and Father on all Templars! Some of us chose this life for noble reasons. Not all of us killed your parents!"

"No, but that does not make me feel any better, Commander!"

The rest of the room stayed back in shock. This is the first time that he's seen her raise her voice. As she met his gaze, she made it clear to him that she was not backing out.

"We're done here. I leave for Redcliffe tomorrow. Stay or follow me: I don't care."

Upon leaving, she slammed the door loudly behind him. Leliana and Josephine followed quietly. Cassandra stayed, watching Cullen pace the room furiously.

"How could she be so stubborn?!" he fumed. "She's driving the Inquisition to th ground with this."

"The mages are not a terrible option, Commander," argued Cassandra. "Their magic is equally powerful to seal the Breach."

He snarled, "Their magic! Their magic started this mess at Kirkwall in the first place."

He heard Cassandra roar, and the next thing he knew, he felt her grab him hard on the shoulders, glaring at him as she pinned him to the wall. "You're being unreasonable too! Just remember that everyone in this fight has scars."

A sigh escaped his lips. Cassandra was right. He was being too hard on the Herald, on Athdhea. After all, she did just find out that she lost her parents because of the actions of some of the members of the Order. And Meredith was one of them. The same Meredith he served at Kirkwall. The same Meredith he turned against when she went insane.

Perhaps she did have the right to be mad at him, and he hated that feeling.

Lying on his bed, he tossed and turned. Ever since she came back from the Storm Coast, she's been actively avoiding him. Not only was she skipping sword training, but she kept meetings short when he was present. The last thing he wanted was her thinking ill of him. It was a feeling that he could not understand.

Then he knew what he had to do. He had to apologize. Quickly, he got his coat and his boots. Never mind that they were not completely laced. He just had to go. As he opened the door, he came face to face with a pair of purple eyes—her eyes.

"I…" she muttered awkwardly, "I was going to knock."

He eyes her curiously. It looked like she rushed there too. She was a fur coat, and possibly not much underneath. Maker, this was not boding well. "I…was on my way to find you."

"Well, I am here." She shrugged in defeat. "I…may I come in?"

"NO!" he protested abruptly. Of course, he would not admit to anyone that he did imagine her in such an attire, in his room.

"Okay. Maybe I should just go—"

"NO!" Trying to avoid her puzzled gaze, he continued, "That is, I…maybe we should just head to the bonfire instead."

The large fire right in front of the Chantry rose high above, as they sat beside each other. As the fire lit her gentle features—her eyes, her nose, her lips—he knew that he could not stay mad at her for very long.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I realize I took out my feelings on you, and that was cruel of me. You obviously did not kill my parents, and I know you left the Templars for the Inquisition, because you wanted to right the exact mistakes that both Mages and the Templars made. I know you're a good man, and I've misjudged you."

"Did Cassandra put you up to this?"

"No, I came because I knew I was wrong, and I want apologize."

"Funny," he said with a serious look on his face, "Cassandra said almost the same thing to me."

He again tried to avoid her eyes, which he felt was curiously studying his features.

"Cassandra told me that everyone has scars in this fight. And she was right. You were not the only one who was emotional in that room. And I'm sorry too."

The bonfire crackled before them. For a moment, his eyes were lost on the embers dancing. He's seen fires like this before, bigger more destructive ones…on Ferelden, on Kirkwall.

As if reading his mind, she said, "I heard stories about Kirkwall. I heard about the mage who blew up the Chantry, how the First Enchanter became an abomination, and how the Knight Commander went mad. Experiencing all of that must have been—"

"I should have seen through Meredith sooner…" he interrupted. "It's…not a subject that I would prefer to think about at the moment…"

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "And since, we're making confessions…I have another one to make."

"What?" This time he was really interested.

"I…" she started. "I confess that there's another reason why I wanted to approach the mages..."

Oh Maker, stop torturing me and spit it out already!

"I want to find someone."

"To find someone?" he repeated. Trying not to sound interested, he took a bite of a dry apple that he had in his coat pocket. "Who?"

"My first love…"

He nearly choked on the apple piece when he heard that. If she was trying to make him jealous, it was working. "What? Are you serious?"

"A little. I mean, he did save my life once. I feel indebted, attached to him. If that's not love, I don't know what that is."

"You know very little of love then."

"And as far as you have told me, neither do you. I bet you barely have any experience…"

He scoffed. "Oh, you'll be surprised."

"Anyway, I do want to find him-that man in my dreams. Because I can't shake the feeling that he's just nearby. Maybe if I try, I would find him."

"You don't even know if he's real. For all you know, maybe you just imagined him because what happened to you and your family was beyond terrible…"

"I know he's real."

"Maybe you've been reading too much of Varric's romances."

"Oh yes," she teased. "I can see the title of that novel he will probably write about me now printed in huge letters: 'Destiny Finds' You by Varric Tehras. Honestly, I do want to read that."

"Why are you telling me this anyway?" he asked, a little annoyed.

"I'm telling you this because I want you to know why I am doing what I do. Like you, I am doing this so I could find a part of myself. Maybe if I find it, everything would be so much better."

He examined her for a while. There was nothing in her eyes that told him that she was lying.

"And I want to make you a promise," she said. Without warning, she slipped a green ring on his left ring finger. He could tell that it had magic.

"What in the Maker's name is this?" His eyes furrowed as he examined it.

She replied matter-of-factly, "It's a promise ring."

Blood instantly rushed to his cheeks. He heard of such rings from the Dalish. From what he heard, elves gave them to each other as engagement rings.

"And before you get any ideas," she stipulated, "I'm giving this to you because of this promise to you." Clearing her throat, she continued. "I swear, by Mythal, all-Mother and Goddess of Justice, to whom I have given my allegiance to, to instigate peace in this endless war. I swear after we recruit the mages and close the Breach in the sky that we will go to the Templars and broker peace. And I will never stop until justice is done…on both sides."

He stared in amazement. "Do you mean that?"

"I do," she answered. "And this ring will keep you alive until I keep my promise."

He believed it, and that was enough.

Days passed after she left, and there was no word from Redcliffe. When the reports finally came, they indicated that she was coming back with an army of mages in tow. The report included intelligence of a plot to assassinate Empress Celine, and something about "the Elder One" who was mentioned to be behind everything. However, what upset him the most was the fact that despite these mages allying with a Tevinter magister—one that necessitated the King of Ferelden to exile them—she recruited these mages as allies.

So after all that talk about Justice, she could not keep her promise after all.

Even after she returned to Haven, he could not find it in him to see her. One morning, as he was heading out for a training exercise, he found her sitting by his doorstep, obviously waiting for him. Upon seeing him, she quickly stood up and anxiously approached him.

"Cullen, I—"

"Herald," he said, slightly mocking. "Congratulations on recruiting the mages. It was definitely a job well done. Justice well served."

"I know you're mad and I can explain—"

His steps quickened, and she desperately followed. He did not want to see her. Why couldn't she just go away? "There is nothing to explain. You just proved that you are light on your promise. You talk of justice? You just set hundreds of apostates loose across Thedas—apostates who swore their allegiance to Tevinter. So congratulations on keeping the peace."

"They had no choice!" she shouted.

Her voice stopped him in his tracks.

"There is no justice in conscripting mages who allied themselves with Tevinter because they were desperate, because there was little help. And we were almost too late. There is no justice in punishing those who have already been oppressed!"

This he could not take anymore. She had no idea of the dreams he suffered through every night, all because of magic, because of mages. Turning to face her, he argued, "You think mages are the only ones here who are oppressed. Many of us have also known oppression because of magic!"

"I'm sorry." For a moment, he swore that he could see tears forming in her eyes as she said those words. But he could not look at her. Not anymore.

He felt the ring seemingly burn in his hand because of his disappointment. But for some reason, he could not find it in him to throw it away.

No time was wasted on the ritual. Within days, they assembled all the mages who helped Athdhea channel the unexplained power of the Mark. Soon, the large rift above the sky at the Temple Ruins of Sacred Ashes is gone.

They did it. The Inquisition won, or so they thought.

A storm brewed on the mountains nearby. Despite this, the celebrations in Haven are at full swing. Cullen spied her speaking with the new mage from Tevinter, Dorian. She was laughing, and it looked like she greatly enjoyed his company. For a moment, she met his eyes, but he quickly broke his gaze. He could not bear to see her.

He was above to leave the celebrations when the bells started clanging wildly.

"Commander!" the watchman shouted. "Massive forces coming fast!"

His hand tightly gripped his sword. A massive force was marching. Who? How? Why?

"What banner?"

"None, sir! None!"

None? His mind started processing the situation. They have been caught unawares. If there was an army marching on them, Leliana's scouts would have given some warning. But there was no time to think about that now.

"Sound the alarm!" he barked as he ran to the gates.

He quickly organized his lieutenants, and called everyone to run to the safety of the town walls. She came, staff in hand, and he quickly brief her about the situation.

A loud banging from the gates sounded.

"I can't come in unless you open!" a voice called from the other side of the gates.

She nodded towards him, and he drew his sword, ready to face anything beyond the gate. The gates opened to reveal a Templar falling to his knees. A boy emerged behind him, daggers drawn and dripping with blood.

"I am Cole," the boy said. "I came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already knew."

Everything about the situation is strange but this boy looked even stranger. His polite manner and tone contradicted the bloody daggers and the dead Templars around him.

Athdhea frantically approached the boy and demanded, "What is this? What is going on?!"

"The Templars have come to kill you," Cole replied quietly.

Cullen could not believe his ears. "Templars?! Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?"

How is this happening? He living among Templars, and he was a Templar. How all of this even possible? Numerous questions raced in his mind.

"The Red Templars went to the Elder One," Cole replied cryptically. "You know him. He knows you. You took his mages."

He pointed to a spot in the hill where two figures emerged—a very large man, or monster with red lyrium spikes jutting out of its body, and another man—someone he knew—the disfigured form of his old friend Samson. It couldn't be.

"He's very angry that you took his mages," Cole pointed out.

"Cullen!" Athdhea desperately called. "Give me a plan. Anything!"

For a moment, he could not look at her. With everything that was happening, she was right. If everything he was seeing was true, the Templars have become truly corrupt. Then he spotted the trebuchets, which his soldiers calibrated merely days ago. Hardening his voice, he replied, "Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle." Pointing to the trebuchets, he said, "Get out there and hit that force with everything you can."

She nodded. Suddenly, they were fighting together.

To the mages, he raised his voice, "Mages! You have sanction to engage them. That there is Samson and he will not make it easy. Use your barriers to protect yourselves and the soldiers. Keep your distance and only use ranged attacks." Drawing his sword, he called, "Inquisition! With the Herald! For your lives! For all of us!"

The small army behind him roared in response. Athdhea nodded to him before she charged with Cassandra, the Iron Bull, Varric and the rest of her party towards the trebuchets.

At first, the plan worked. The trebuchets were giving them the advantage, burying hundreds of the Elder One's army. It looked like they had a chance. Then without warning, a dragon swooped setting the trebuchets and the town in flames.

There goes hope.

He managed to regroup the few that were left inside the Chantry. When she and her part managed to make it back to the Chantry before the doors closed, he managed to feel some relief. She was safe for now.

"Our position here is not good," he said as soon as she came. No doubt she was expecting a report. "That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us."

Then Cole, who was tending to the gravely wounded Chancelor Roderick, spoke up, "I've seen an Archdemon. I was in the Fade, but it looked like that."

An archdemon. Wonderful.

"I don't care what it looks like!" Cullen shouted back. "It cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven!"

"The Elder One doesn't care about the village," Cole pointed out. "He only wants the Herald."

"Then he can have me!" Athdhea declared.

No! There has to be another way. He thought.

"Cullen, at Redcliffe I saw the future," she said. "I don't want to live in any future where none of you would have the chance to fight back. If this can give you a chance…"

Cole shook his head. "It won't save them. He wants to kill you. No one else matters but he'll crush them, kill them anyway. I don't like him."

"You don't like—" Seriously, what is wrong with this boy? Cullen's mind tried to come up with solutions, but none came. "There are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchet, cause one last slide."

"We're overrun!" she argued. "To hit the Enemy we'd bury Haven."

"We're dying, but we can decide how," his voice softening. "Many don't get that chance."

That was that truth that he knew. They were dying, but at least it could be in their own terms, together.

"Yes, that!" Cole's voice interrupted. "Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies."

The old man was bleeding, so Cole had to help him up. His voice struggled for breath as he spoke, "There is a path. You wouldn't know it, unless you've made the summer pilgrimage as I have. The people can escape…She must have shown me…Andraste must have shown me so I could tell you…"

Athdhea turned to him. "What are you saying Chancellor?"

"It was whim that I walked the path. I did not mean to start—it was overgrown. Now, with so many in the Conclave dead, to be the only one who remembers…I don't know Herald. If this simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident. You could be more."

The Chancellor, with his dying words, in the end he did believe. But that was not time to think about that.

"What about it Cullen?" Athdhea asked. "Will it work?"

"Possibly, if he shows us the path. But what of your escape?"

She turned away. Then he knew, she wasn't planning on coming back. Then meeting his eyes, she forced a weak smile. "I guess I will be fulfilling my promise after all."

No, not like this.

"Perhaps you can surprise it? Find a way?" His jaw clenched. He could not lose her. Not like this.

She took both his hands and gazed up at him. "I'm going to face him. And the Templars. It's the only way. You know this. Justice will be done."

"If I knew that it would come to this, I would not have—"

"Shhh…it's all in the past. Will you take care of the future for me, Cullen?"

He nodded, but he could not meet her eyes.

"Please tell Keeper Deshanna, that I hunted well. And my sister…tell her I love her. And that silver brush that she tried to steal from me ages ago...she can have it."

He was never good at goodbyes. He never wanted to say them, because there was still so much he wanted to tell her. "Athdhea, I—"

The walls and the ground shook, interrupting him. Maybe it was best that she did not know. Just before she released his hands, he felt her light lips graze his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Then she let go. He took one last look at her as she and her party charged outside the doors. He wanted to follow her, but duty took him elsewhere. It was the only thing that kept him from running to her.

The passage that Roderick directed them to was cold, dank and dark. Some of his soldiers managed to salvage some supplies, and carry some of the wounded. The trek took some time, and he knew that she was trying to bide time for them as long as she could. At last, he felt the cold wind again as they made it out of the narrow passage on the far end of the mountain. They were safe for now. He ordered an archer to light a flare. If she sees it, maybe, just maybe…she could make it out.

"Commander!" cried Rylen, his scope lowered, pointing below.

Before he could reach Rylen, the last trebuchet fired. Like a massive river, the snow rushed downwards, burying almost everything down below. The roar of the snow and sliding rocks filled his ears. The dragon swooped past and took off into the darkness.

When the avalanche seemed to be over, he wondered, did she survive? In the distance, eight figures emerged in the snow—Cassandra, Varric, Solas, Dorian, Vivienne, the Iron Bull, Blackwall, and Sera.

"Cullen!" Cassandra called as she ran towards them.

"What happened?" he inquired. "The Herald…did she?"

Cassandra sadly shook her head. "She sent us away…I'm sorry, Cullen."

She's gone, and he could not believe it.

"She's still alive!" Solas contended. "Send a search party after her, Commander."

Then Rylen approached, pointing out, "Commander, enemy forces could still be in the area. We have to move."

He wanted to listen to the elf, but Rylen also had a point. Leliana gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "She did what she could to bide us some time. Do not let her sacrifice be in vain."

He did not want to leave, but duty commanded him to. And if she was truly gone, he owed her as much as to protect the people she tried to protect. Steeling his voice, he regretfully gave the order move out.

He lost her. But he also realized that he wanted her—not despite their differences—but because of them. When they disagreed, he always found himself questioning everything he believed to be true. Everything she said always made him examine himself, and think about how he could be a better person.

And he was never able to tell her that.

A/N: Of course he will be able to tell her. Because SPOILERS: she's alive. But we all know that.

One thing about CullenxInquisitor fics that I know where the Inquisitor is a mage, the mage templar debate is often there to create sexual tension. While there may be that here, I mostly wanted to focus on the ideological tension here. Because I do think falling in love is about meeting minds. Blame that on Shakespeare.

This fic is also in fanfiction.net and AO3

Next up: "A Wolf in the Distance." I guess I'll be writing in Solas' POV after all. :)

[onesparrow]

accidents of faith and nature

Cullen Rutherford/Ariadne Lavellan | 2.1k | Rated M

They do not discuss their childhoods. Cullen knows there’s rumours about where he and his siblings came from, some closer to the truth than others. He does wonder sometimes, if Ari would believe him if he told her that they fell out of a wardrobe and into this world. 

He doesn’t tell her. He takes comfort in the fact that Ari has her own secrets, that she and her brother spend as much time whispering in the corner of libraries as he and Mia do. It makes him feel more comfortable with the secrets that he’s holding.

They tell each other the important things, Cullen reassures himself as he trails his fingers down Ari’s spine as she sleeps. The future is what matters.

The prequel to the Narnia AU I’ve been working on. 

[sketchedhallows]

Asha, Cullen, and their sweet pup Rook. 💕 I thought about taking this one farther and filling in the scenery but I just sort of ran out of motivation 😅 Nevertheless I am happy with it. #dragonage #dragonageinquisition #procreateart #lineart #cullenrutherford #cullenxlavellan #cullenxinquisitor #smallartaccount #artstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CPV0YGfjm96/?utm_medium=tumblr

[inquizies]

[debinthedas]

❤

[tired-truffle]

Something’s Gotta Give

A CullenxLavellan fic

Chapter Word Count: 3.3k

Part 2 - Off To A Great Start

"I wanted to tell her that I loved her, and not in the complicated way I loved our parents, but in a simple way I never had to think about. I loved her like breathing." - Brenna Yovanoff

Masterlist

Ash’s heart had soared when she’d spotted another elf among the throngs of humans, she had been relieved. However, her relief quickly turned to disappointment as she realized that this particular elf was a condescending prick. If she’d known that, she would have chosen a different opener, and not: “So, what’s a knife ear like you doing in a place like this?” 

His lip had practically curled as he scanned her Dalish robes and Dalish markings, his face bare of any vallaslin. Perhaps if she’d seen anything but the shiny back of his bald head she would have thought twice about being so casual with him. It became quickly apparent that he did not appreciate her sense of humour. 

That was where Rae found her some time later, trading snide comments outside the alchemist’s hut with the stuck-up elf whose disdain for her was blatantly obvious. 

“Ash, there you are!” Rae called as she approached, halting in her tracks when she saw the daggers Ash and the bald elf were staring at each other. She sighed heavily. “Is it too much to ask that my sister be kind to my friends?”

The other elf’s eyebrows raised, glancing quickly between Ash and Rae, the resemblance slowly dawning on him. 

Ash sniffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe you should have added it to your list of demands.” 

Rae wiped a tired hand across her face. “What did you do?”

The elf narrowed his eyes at Ash and she resisted the very childish urge to stick her tongue out at him. “Knife-ear is not typically a term one uses for those they do not wish to irritate.” 

“Ash!” Rae hissed at her and Ash coughed uncomfortably. 

“In hindsight maybe it wasn’t the best greeting.”

“Solas,” Rae addressed the elf, “I apologize for my sister’s behaviour, I’ll ensure she doesn’t bother you anymore.” Rae shot a sharp, pointed look at Ash that she didn’t think that she deserved. Ash scoffed and rolled her eyes, but didn’t miss the way Solas’s eyes softened at Rae’s light blush. She didn’t like that at all.

“It’s quite alright,” he said, suddenly and suspiciously amenable. “I am happy to put our misunderstandings aside.”

“Thank you for your maturity and understanding. It’s refreshing after spending time with Ash again.” Ash resented that accusation, she was plenty mature, more so than Rae was pretending to be. Since when had she gotten so serious? 

“Anytime.” Solas’s gaze darted to where Ash stood silently fuming at having been one-upped, victory shimmering in his eyes. Rae bid him goodbye and linked her arm with Ash’s, pulling her forcefully away from the other elf, though not before Ash shot him one more glare, to which he simply waved. Irritating.

“I thought I told you not to undermine me.” Rae hissed out the side of her mouth, a smile plastered across her face as she waved to passersby, their heads instinctively bowing in respect. It was an odd sight to see so many humans paying homage to an elf. Ash had to hand it to her, that was a feat few elves had achieved. 

“I had no intentions of causing a fight, I simply picked the wrong person to talk to.” Ash wrinkled her nose. “But you two seem…close.” 

“Solas has been instrumental in supporting the Inquisition. He’s risked much as both an apostate and an elf without a clan to be here. You should be more thankful, he was the one who was able to stabilize the mark.” Rae held out her hand, and for the first time, Ash saw the glowing green mark embedded in her palm. “Without him, I would have died.”

Ash released her sister’s arm in favour of grabbing her hand and examining it closely, turning it over as the light disappeared. “What in the Void is that?” 

Rae pulled her hand back with a disgruntled grunt. “I’m still trying to figure that out. But it lets me close the rifts, it’s one of the reasons they chose me as their ‘Herald of Andraste’.” The title dripped with sarcasm, and Ash couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. While Rae may take her responsibilities seriously, the title seemed to hold little significance to her.

“Tell me everything.” Ash curled Rae’s hand into her own, her eyes wide and pleading. “Let me help you.” 

Rae sighed, studying Ash’s face with a hefty dose of wariness. A small pang of hurt ran through her like a finely sharpened knife. Why was Rae so suspicious of Ash’s intentions? She never had before. They still hadn’t addressed the heated argument they’d had before Rae had left on her mission, but surely she knew that Ash was here to support her, not to usurp her and harm her anyway. 

Rae’s suspicion seeped from her eyes upon seeing the sincerity in her sister’s. “Fine,” she said, “but you’re going to shut the fuck up until I’m done, got it?” 

Ash gave Rae a lopsided grin. “As you command, Herald.” 

They’d ended up in Rae’s tent for some privacy, but the quiet did little to help with Ash’s racing thoughts as Rae spent the next hour divesting all that had happened to her. Questions and comments pressed at her lips, trying to pry open her teeth to get out, but Ash sat quietly, dutifully even, listening with intent focus as she was told all the many different ways Rae had almost gotten herself killed. Love throbbed in her chest, the spirit had been right - this was more than Ash would have been able to protect Rae from using her own power. Bigger forces were at play than what the Keeper had trained her for, Rae would need every asset she could get. 

Like a cresting wave, when Rae finished her story, lapsing them both into silence, a surge of warm energy travelled down Ash’s arms, propelling her forward until she’d wrapped a startled Rae in a tight hug. They were sitting on the floor, their knees bent awkwardly as Ash crushed them together. 

Love may have promised that she would only observe, but as Ash had found over the last few weeks, the spirit’s instincts were difficult to ignore. 

Rae patted her back, stiff and unsure. They were not huggers, ever since Ash had grown curves and become hyper-aware of the way her large breasts pressed against the chest of whoever she hugged. She had given up the act save for rare, special occasions - and it had already happened twice in one day.

She shifted her weight, trying to appear nonchalant as she purposely rocked back. She sent a quiet reprimand to the spirit residing within her. As per usual, Love remained unresponsive save for a muted throbbing of heat in her chest.

Ash was rarely cold, but since she’d re-affirmed her deal with Love, the heat never seemed to leave her skin.

Rae cleared her throat in the silence that followed. “I’ll introduce you to everyone soon, though you already met Josephine and Solas. From what I hear you met the Commander as well.” 

Ash frowned, unable to place the title with a face. “Who?” 

“Commander Cullen Rutherford, the one who walked you to meet me and gave you specific instructions to wait until after my meeting with Josephine was done.” 

Ah, yes, she remembered him, the man with the neatly styled hair and large, ugly cloak. “I have to say, being judged by a Templar upon my arrival was certainly unexpected.”

“He’s no longer a Templar, they made that very clear when I encountered their Seeker in Val Royeaux.” Rae seemed to hold the man in high regard, strange for someone who so often despised authority even more than Ash. 

“He may not be a Templar any longer, but that training doesn’t just go away overnight. He was immediately suspicious of me.” Ash insisted. 

“He’s suspicious of everyone until they’re vetted, that’s his job,” Rae said like Ash was a child who did not understand how the world worked. She felt herself bristle and quickly tamped it down, now was not the time to argue further. 

“Didn’t you say he wants to side with the Templars instead of the mages in Redcliffe?” Ash had phrased it as a question, but she was sure that Rae had explained it in her rundown.

“Fine,” Rae huffed, “dislike him for all I care, but you need to be cordial at least. Do I have to worry about you calling him names too or is that only limited to other elvhen mages?”

“I think I’ve learned my lesson there,” Ash said in a clipped tone. “Though you have a distinct lack of mage representation on your advisory council.”

“Just don’t start anything,” Rae spoke like she’d aged fifty years in their time apart. 

“I’m following your commands, don’t you fear.” Ash held up her hands in a display of innocence. “But you’ll hear my opinions on everything anyway.”

“Lucky me,” Rae grumbled, fiddling with the handle of her dagger. 

“So who are you siding with in this civil war?”

Rae fixed Ash with a deadpan stare. “Do you really have to ask? The Templars punched a Holy Sister in the face in front of an entire crowd of people without a single giving a single shit. Why would I want to ally with those assholes?” 

Ash smiled brightly, proud of her sister’s level-headed decisions. Rae continued, “I still have to meet with their representative in Redcliffe before I make my final decision, but I doubt that is going to change.” 

“Well I, for one, am pleased to hear that.” Ash looked around the tent, a frown on her face as she noted the distinct lack of grey fur and demanding glares. “Have you seen Sweetpea by any chance? She disappeared when I got here and I haven’t seen her since.”

Rae snorted, brushing off her pants as she stood. “I wouldn’t worry about that cat, knowing her she’s probably out terrorizing the local wildlife.” She held out her hand to help Ash stand up. “Why don’t I introduce you to the rest of the team before you make more of a fool of yourself and we can look for her on the way.”

Ash smiled, accepting the proffered hand. “Lead the way.”

Rae kept a wide variety of companions, some were unavailable when Rae brought Ash around, off doing only the Gods know what. On the way to the War Room for a formal introduction with her advisors, Ash met both Varric Tethras, a dwarven author and chest hair enthusiast, as well as Vivienne, a striking human mage whose ideas on the Circle Ash feeling uneasy. Varric's warm personality and quick wit immediately drew Ash in, and she found herself looking forward to more conversations with him. Vivienne…well, Ash would have been perfectly happy if they never interacted again. Clearly, she knew her stuff, she was strong and clever and Ash would never hold that against her, yet their parting had sent a chill down Ash’s spine that she had been unable to shake. 

“Your magic is something else, my dear,” Vivienne had said with an appraising look up and down her body. 

From the corner of her eye, Ash saw Rae turn towards her, her eyebrow raised expectantly. She expected Ash to say something diplomatic and Ash had plenty of practice with being modest and sucking up to their elders.

“I can thank Ghilan’nain for her guidance, it was no small task to become the First to our Clan’s Keeper.” She attempted to brush it off, relying on Vivienne being an ignorant Shem who knew nothing of Dalish culture - but she should have realized the mage was too clever to be fooled like that. 

She simply smiled - a dangerous smile, the promise of follow-up lingering in her eyes. “Gods have nothing to do with your power, my dear. You may as well own it.” 

Creators, this place was more dangerous than she’d imagined. If any of them discovered that she was harbouring a spirit, she feared exactly what they’d do. She hadn’t even entertained the thought of telling Rae, her wrath would be far too great after Ash had kept it from her for so long. But Ash had done it to keep Rae safe - the elders of their clan already disliked Rae, if they found out that Rae knew about Ash’s possession, the consequences would be dire. For now, it must remain a secret, Rae had other bigger things to worry about. 

Blessedly, Rae’s advisors were all already gathered in the War Room, leaving little space for idle small talk. 

With a forceful push, Rae swung open the heavy oak door, its hinges creaking in protest. She strode into the small room with the confidence of someone who owned the place. Her chin was tilted up, her posture straight. Inside, a large wooden table dominated the space, its surface etched with a detailed map of Thedas.

On the far side of the table stood the three advisors, two she recognized as Commander Cullen - his golden hair and stern expression unmistakable and Ambassador Montilyet, quill poised over her writing board as she offered a welcoming smile.

“Good afternoon, Herald,” the third advisor greeted, her Orlesian accent thick. “And you must be her sister, Ashvalla, yes?” 

Ash's skin prickled with unease as she couldn't shake the feeling that this woman knew everything about her - from her name to his deepest secrets - minus the deepest one or she doubted she would be allowed within miles of Haven. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Ash nodded. “And you must be Sister Nightingale. Rae tell me you’ve been instrumental in her cause.” Best to keep the woman on her good side.

“Please, call me Leliana.” The Spymaster smiled at her. “And you flatter me, Herald, I did not know you thought so highly of me.”

Rae grunted noncommittally and the other woman laughed. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you again,” Josephine spoke up, shifting her weight. “I hope your stay so far has been hospitable.” 

She opted out of telling them of her encounter with Solas. “It has, thank you.” Polite small talk was most appropriate here. 

“Though I believe you may be missing something, Miss Lavellan,” the Commander spoke, his lips twitching as though he was trying to suppress a smile. Before Ash had a moment to ponder this strange statement, gestured towards the ground, and as Ash followed his gaze, her eyes landed on the diminutive form of one formerly missing cat. Said cat meowed questioningly up at the Commander, head tilted as though she didn’t understand why he had exposed her hiding spot behind his heavy boots. 

“Sweetpea!” Ash hissed at her ridiculous cat who paid her no mind. Ash leaned over to tap her thighs, trying to coax the stubborn feline over to her. Sweetpea didn’t bother to give her a passing glance. Ash shot an apologetic smile at the Commander, a light blush tinting her cheeks before aiming another glare at the beast who trotted back over the Cullen, rubbing herself on his legs once more. “Traitor.”

“Now that we’ve solved the case of the missing Sweetpea,” Rae interrupted the staring contest she was having with her good-for-nothing cat who’d chosen a Templar - former Templar, whatever - to rub against and make her grovel in front of. “Perhaps we can get back to the problem at hand?”

Ash straightened, she’d have to deal with Sweetpea’s insolence later. “Please, by all means, don’t let me stop you.” 

Rae's earlier explanation barely scratched the surface of the issue at hand. As Ash struggled to keep her attention on the conversation, Sweetpea sauntered through Cullen's legs, her tail flicking in a taunting manner. Despite Cullen's obvious annoyance, he never once asked the feline to move and even let her curl up on his boot as she drifted off to sleep. Instead, he reached and pointed to places on the map he needed to speak about so as not to disturb her. It was strangely heartwarming, but not enough for Ash to deem him safe. She knew better than to like a Templar, that was a dangerous game for a mage. 

“I still believe our best bet is to contact the Templars.” His point was mildly undermined by the cat asleep on his foot. Ash wondered briefly if Sweetpea, with her keen intelligence and cunning ways, had purposely placed herself there to undermine him and nudge the conversation towards supporting the mages. As much as Ash doubted it, she had learned never to underestimate Sweetpea's cleverness.

“I appreciate your point, Commander, however, the Grand Enchantress seemed rather distressed when she confronted me in Val Royeaux, and I will need to ensure their safety before we proceed.” Since when did Rae talk like that? “I will be taking Cassandra along with me so your point of view will be represented, if that helps ease your mind.”

Cullen inclined his head. “Of course, your Grace. I appreciate your consideration.” 

“Solas and Sera will accompany me as well.” Ash narrowed her eyes at Rae who steadfastly ignored her. There would be an amendment to that lineup if Ash had anything to say about it. “If that is all, I will depart at first light and return as soon as I can with news on my decision.” 

Murmurs of agreement rose from her advisors and the meeting was adjourned. They slowly filled out of the room, giving Ash time to nab Sweetpea as the Commander passed her, much to the cat’s dismay. 

“You can see him again later,” Ash whispered too quietly for him to hear, and he smirked as he watched her struggle to hold the wild animal. 

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Lavellan,” Leliana addressed her, a sparkle of mirth in her eyes as Sweetpea refused to stay still. 

“I hope our next meeting involves a few less grouchy cats.” Ash shot a pointed look at Sweetpea who returned it with an equally as irritated glare. 

The door shut behind the small family, leaving them alone once more. Ash released Sweetpea and she immediately leaped onto the wooden table, gracefully stepping over the tiny tokens scattered across its surface. With a contented purr, she curled up in the center of the table, her fluffy fur softly rising and falling with each breath.

“What is wrong with you?” Ash huffed, placing her hands on her hips. 

“She’s got your attitude.” Rae leaned against the table, arms crossed over her chest, a challenge her stance. 

Not one to waste time, Ash let her displeasure be known. “You can’t seriously tell me you plan on leaving without me.”

“I can, and I will.” Rae’s smug face looked eerily similar to the one Sweetpea had worn only minutes ago. “How does it feel to be told what you can and cannot do all the time?” 

Ash narrowed her eyes. “Is this all some petty revenge for, what, me bossing you around sometimes? I’m your older sister in case you’ve forgotten, that’s my job.”

Rae scoffed. “Sometimes? I think you mean every single chance you get. You may be my older sister, but I’m a full-grown adult. I make my own decisions, and now, I make yours too. Unless you’d rather forgo our deal and head back to our Clan.”

Love fluttered anxiously in her chest, unwilling to part from Ash’s sister. “I resent those accusations, but in an effort to be the bigger person I am willing to let them slide.” 

Rae’s expression turned sour. “Must you always be like this?” 

“Must I always be right? Well, it does happen frequently so I suppose so.” 

Rae groaned and threw her hands up in the air. “This is why you aren’t coming with me. You’re the worst and I hate you.”

Ash smirked, reaching out to scoop Sweetpea off the table, it was time for them to make their exit before Rae blew up. “Love you, too. I’ll see you tomorrow morning to wish you safe travels.”

And if she barely managed to duck a small token thrown at her head as she left the War Room, she decided it didn’t need mentioning.

Next Chapter

A/N: Will Solas and Ash ever get along? Keep reading to find out.

If anyone is reading this I'd love to hear what you think! 

[mahr94]

Cullavellan Week - Day 3

Partners in battle