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It was a fairly pleasant day in Skyhold. The air was cool but not cold; the sun was shining overhead in a brilliant blue sky; and the hum of the keep’s typical noise seemed nothing more than a dull drone. More noticeable to Cullen was the familiar clacking of practice-swords ringing from the courtyard. He often watched the sparring matches with interest when he had the free time to do so. He was the Commander of these troops, after all. It behooved him to notice how they performed in single combat, and occasionally to correct them or to step into the ring himself when they became overconfident or needed pointers. However, his attention was not drawn by any ordinary soldiers on this day.
From the battlements he watched Cassandra and Tamsyn Ashworth, the Inquisition’s Prophetess, engaged in a fierce match. They moved in circles like stalking cats, each woman watching the other before their blades crossed. While Cassandra was obviously the more experienced warrior, Tamsyn’s skill had improved by leaps and bounds since she had begun training in Haven. The young woman’s technique wasn’t perfect, but she moved with a fiery determination, a natural fight in her step, an admirable gusto behind each strike. Her plaited hair had become loose, charming wisps dancing about her temples and neck. The sun glinted brilliantly off her blade and breastplate. He could hear her voice rising to him as she grunted and cursed, caught up in the match and oblivious to the spectators.
Cullen couldn’t help but watch her. Admire her. Tamsyn was so stubborn, so tenacious once she made up her mind. Her inner fire was visible even when she was more reserved; in her silent smiles and razor-sharp wit. It roared now. He’d seen the blaze in her eyes days before when she’d finally let loose and fought him with all she had. A quiet smile quirked his lips as the memory hovered in the front of his mind, and his heart quickened when he recalled how she’d toppled him in the end. He hadn’t minded at all- it had been what he wanted, to see her unleash her true potential, to show it to him and to see it herself. He could still smell the scent of her, lavender soap tinged with sweat and leather, could hear her razor-sharp words between heaving breaths and feel her weight as she pinned him down. Does… that redeem me… Commander?
“What are you grinning about?”
The Commander started at the voice behind him, then cast a glare to the woman who had approached. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts he hadn’t even heard the clink of her armor. An annoyed breath puffed from his nostrils and he merely grunted in response. Captain Alora’s eyebrow lifted curiously.
“What were you grinning about, rather.”
“Nothing,”
“If you say so.” She sidled up alongside him and rested her arms against the parapet, looking down at the objects of his focus. Cassandra and Tamsyn were still going at it, but it was obvious they were beginning to tire. The match would soon come to an end.
“My coin is on the Seeker.”
Cullen snorted and gave her an incredulous look. “And just who are you betting with?”
“You, of course.”
“No.”
“Why not? Afraid of losing?”
Cullen looked back to the ring, his gaze once again settling on Tamsyn. “Not at all.”
Silence feel between them then, broken only by the sounds of the fight below and the cheers of the onlookers. For several seconds he watched, noticing when the dance of battle changed. Suddenly Cassandra darted forward and almost threw the Prophetess down with her shield. Cullen’s breath caught in his throat and he leaned forward; his gloved fingers gripped the stone before him. Tamsyn dodged, got in a blow against the Seeker’s back, and danced nimbly away. His heart leapt and his lips drew into a broad smile.
Come Tamsyn, he thought, You can do it! Show them that you can win. Show them and show yourself.
The two women circled again. One last time they met in the center of the ring; there was a flurry of movement, and it was Cassandra who ended up lying in the dust.
The spectators burst into cheers.
“Yes!” Cullen applauded, his heart swelling with pride as he looked down on the scene below. She’d done it! She’d won the match! There was no way Cassandra had gone easy on her. Tamsyn pulled the Seeker to her feet and they clasped wrists; both were grinning and laughing, celebrating her victory.
The Commander let out a wistful sigh as he watched the soldiers below giving the Prophetess their congratulations. Really, he ought to go and commend her himself. Of course, then she’d know that he had been watching her. Not that it was anything to be embarrassed about- he was the Commander of the Inquisition, was he not? And he had yet to reveal to her whether or not he intended to allow her to come with them to Adamant, had he not? As he pondered and followed Tamsyn with his eyes, he slowly became aware of another set of them watching him. He glanced toward the Captain. She was looking at him like one would a younger sibling, a knowing smile on her lips. Without words he knew what she implied. The tips of his ears grew warm and took on a pink shade as he quickly looked away.
“If you want to place bets, Captain Trevelyan, go join the soldiers in the courtyard,” He grumbled, “I am certain there will be another match directly.”
“The moment’s passed,” Alora turned to face him, “That one was awfully exciting, wasn’t it?”
“I suppose it was.”
“You suppose? You couldn’t take your eyes away! But then, no one could blame you.” She shrugged, “Her Ladyship is quite the fighter.”
“That she is.” His gaze found her in the courtyard once more. Tamsyn had moved to the water barrels for a drink; only, she drank too quickly from her tin cup and apparently got some water up her nose. The following sneeze was nothing short of adorable. Cullen couldn’t help but smile fondly.
“And she’s very skilled at what she does,” Alora went on, “She gives many people hope, you know. That we must be on the right path, since we‘ve got her and the Herald of Andraste.”
“Indeed.”
“So humble and kind too.”
“Yes, she is.” He nodded absently, still distracted.
“And quite beautiful.”
“Yes.”
Cullen realized a moment too late what he’d agreed with, and when he looked at Alora she was smiling like the cat that caught the canary, one hand pressed against her cheek as she stared. He feared she might start squealing with delight. Now his ears were absolutely burning.
“What?” he demanded, “There is nothing wrong with appreciating a woman’s beauty.”
“Not at all,” she said, “You ought to go tell her to her face how lovely she is. Maybe invite her to a private dinner while you‘re at it.”
The Commander narrowed his gaze. “You’ve been talking to Rylen, have you?”
“Well, we do share rank,” Alora crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one foot, the grin never leaving her face, “And I’d call him a friend. So yes ser, we do talk from time to time.”
“I should demote you both.”
She elbowed him softly. “Oh come now, Cullen. Anyone with eyes can see how she looks at you, and how you look at her. For Maker’s sake, you’re doing it right now.”
He said nothing, torn between tossing the Captain over the battlements or agreeing with her. After a few silent moments of inner turmoil he sighed, rubbed the base of his skull and turned slowly to rest his back against the parapet.
“Others have told me the same thing… and I admit, the thought has crossed my mind… but what if her attention toward me is merely kindness? The last thing I want to do is make unwanted advances and ruin our friendship.”
“Cullen…”
He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, “You noted her nature yourself. Tamsyn helps others, cares for them sincerely and earnestly- friends, even those she does not know. It is just what she does.”
“That’s true,” Alora agreed, once again leaning against the wall beside him, “But it is different with you. I’m sure of it.”
“Has she told you that?”
“Well… no, not really,” she admitted, “We’ve spoken only briefly. But I’m a woman myself, in case you hadn’t noticed, and when your name was mentioned she got that dreamy, sparkly look in her eyes. I know that look.”
“You were talking about me?”
“About how she beat your ass in a training session. I wanted the details, of course.”
“Of course.” He smirked, “What did she say?”
“That your control and grace in battle are amazing. She could scarcely believe she‘d beaten you. It must have been quite the match.”
His heart skipped a beat and warmth crept from his ears to his cheeks. Had Tamsyn really said that about him? That day returned to his mind again, and again he recalled her scent, her eyes, the way she’d made him feel. Still, even if she admired his fighting skill, that did not mean she admired him- certainly not in a romantic way.
“I’ve no right to bring up such a thing,” he muttered, “We are at war, and-”
“You have every right! Ugh! Why are you so stubborn?” Alora threw her hands up in exasperation, “The world’s gone to pot, and the two of you are right at the top, helping the Inquisitor try to fix everything. You deserve to be happy! And Lady Tamsyn certainly does! Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, but-”
“Then talk to the woman, Cullen. Tell her how you feel about her. Maybe try poetry!”
“What makes you think I haven’t?”
“You, writing poetry? Hah, I’d love to see that.”
The afternoon bell sounded, then. Alora sighed and, with a resigned smile, straightened her helmet.
“That would be my signal to head back down to make sure my battalion hasn‘t burned down their tents. Just think on what I’ve said, Commander.”
“I imagine I could not avoid it if I tried.”
“Well, good! Good afternoon, Commander.” She saluted, and as she walked past him she clapped his shoulder in a friendly gesture. Her footfalls faded as she made her way over the battlements toward the stairs. Cullen glanced after her. He had the distinct feeling that his captains were scheming, and he wondered what they had in store. Well, he knew (or hoped) that they had the sense not to embarrass him or do anything incredibly foolish.
The Commander adjusted his own mantle and ran a hand over his wind-mussed hair. With the measured steps of a soldier he made his way behind Captain Trevelyan, but his destination was the courtyard. He hoped that Tamsyn would still be there. He hoped that when he congratulated her on her victory, that she would smile… he loved her smile. When his boots hit the ground, his gaze swept the courtyard, searching. There she stood with Cassandra, the afternoon sun making her hair glow like warm embers, her cheeks still rosy from exertion. As he made his way through the crowd she looked his way, their eyes met, and Cullen felt his heart grow light within his chest.
Before he said a word, before he had even reached her, she smiled.
His own lips curved up easily, lifted by joy at the sight- and when he smiled, it was a smile meant only for her.