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The Inquisitor stood in the bailey awaiting the arrival of the small incoming party. It wasn’t a formal welcoming but she had nothing better to do, so she decided to just get some air and wait at the gate. Whether from curiosity or mere boredom, several members of her inner circle were also milling about. This wasn’t unusual, they were a nosey lot, but the addition of her Spymaster in the barbican’s shade was curious. She didn’t have time to dwell on that further as the first hoof falls clacking on the bridge drew her attention away.
Among the group of only half a dozen Evelyn spotted Hawke easily. As tall as Commander Cullen, Garret usually towered above the crowds, but riding beside him was a man half a head taller again. The tell-tale blue armour marked this newcomer as the Warden, and she observed him carefully as they approached before she’d have to stow her curiosity in favour of diplomacy. He was clearly a warrior- that was obvious by his bearing if not his vocation- broad shoulders and a lean waist, his bared forearms were roped with tendons, below bulging biceps, and the whole vision emanated strength.
Though he was clearly capable of massive violence, it was tempered by his easy seat and calm expression. He was competent then, in that quiet way experienced swordsmen were, and for someone with his reputation- even if only half the rumours were true- there was a distinct lack of arrogance about him. Overall he was intimidating without meaning to be, and in a way that calmed her slight nerves at meeting a man whose legend was bigger than the man himself. A hero of the 5th Blight, 10 years a warrior with the secretive Grey Warden order, and a Templar before that. Not to mention his pedigree. Whether or not he chose to denounce the throne his royal blood was obvious to a noble such as herself. She would have picked it even if he didn’t look quite so much like Ferelden’s late King Maric.
The Warden rode under the portcullis, and while outwardly he seemed relaxed she noted a tension in him, his eyes were everywhere, taking everything in. A professional habit she guessed, always low-key on alert. He was handsome, very handsome, with burnished tan skin, strong jaw and artfully tousled rust-coloured hair. A deep brow above a long distinguished nose completed the man, along with his stunningly blue eyes, which still darted about as he dismounted. Was he looking for something?
At that moment movement caught her eye and she turned to where Leliana had emerged from the shadows. At the same moment, further along the walls, she saw Cullen briskly taking the last few steps down from the battlement towards the milling arrivals. She frowned but barely had time to question why he had come, before a happy shout pulled her back to where the Warden was now swinging her laughing- laughing- Spymaster in a bear hug.
Only Evelyn’s years of experience at court kept her from openly gaping, but what was going on!
Before she had a chance to process this startling revelation, things changed again. The bustle of the others welcoming Hawke back and the various scouts and soldiers unpacking faded into the background as she watched entranced at the scene unfolding before her.
Cullen had reached the pair hugging off to the side of the main gate, and his expression was....everything. Everything, all at once- it was relief and apprehension, longing and fulfilment, concern and adoration. It was like nothing she’d ever seen, and in her experience particularly out of place on her stoic Commander.
Abruptly the large Warden caught sight of Cullen and immediately set the rogue gently on her feet, his eyes now fastened to the blonde warrior. Leliana smiled indulgently and bowed out, obviously accepting that her own reunion was superseded by a much more pressing need.There was only a heartbeats pause before they both moved, closing the distance between them in barely restrained strides until they were wrapped in a tight embrace.
There were no words, but there didn’t need to be. As they checked each other over with worried eyes and gentle hands, the familiarity and genuine care was obvious. Though there had never been a single hint or suspicion in all the time she’d known him, Evelyn was at once absolutely certain that Cullen was in love, and it was an old love, older at least than his time with the Inquisition. She'd never had a chance.
Heat pricked the back of her eyes as she watched them reassuring themselves and each other, but though she’d fancied Cullen, her emotion wasn’t wholly about the sudden and complete loss of hope of that desire ever being fulfilled.
Knowing him as she did, he’d always seemed lonesome, not one to gather with company he had few friends, preferring instead to work or occupy himself. She knew of his struggles with his health, the lyrium, and she’d always felt that though he didn’t broadcast his emotions, there was a melancholy air about him. And certainly he had been sad, but not for the reason she’d assumed. He wasn’t lonely because he had nobody, but because of the absence of his somebody. And somehow that made it both more and less heartbreaking.
When they kissed, it was the kiss of infinite tenderness, belying a deep and enduring bond despite their separation. There was no questioning what was witnessed between them. So caught up by the vision Evelyn didn’t notice the bard at her side until Leliana spoke.
“It is beautiful, no? Theirs is a rare love, all the more precious because of the hardships they have endured,”
“I had no idea, he never said…”
“No, he is a private man, our Commander, but if you know what to look for it’s there in everything he does. His battle with lyrium, his relentless dedication to his work, how he pushes himself every day to be more. Certainly there is his driving sense of duty, but it’s not a duty to the Maker as you may have expected- everything Cullen does, he does for Alistair. He betters himself for Alistair, he works to distract himself from the absence of his heart, and so that when they do meet on those rare and precious occasions, he can feel worthy to be by his side.”
Evelyn frowned, “Cullen has much to be proud of, why should he feel the need to prove his worth?”
Leliana smiled patiently, “You misunderstand, it’s not that Alistair expects it, but that Alistair is Cullen’s reason to go on. His trials have been hard and many, even with what you know of his past would you concede that many others would have simply given up?”
“I suppose so, yes. And I know there’s more that I am unaware of.”
“Indeed. But he has not, he continues to live, and strives to always give his best. The same is true for Alistair, my dear friend has suffered unimaginably, and it is for each other that they endure. It is for their future that they fight so earnestly, so that one day they may be free to be together, knowing they did all they could to leave the world a better place, and to earn their peace within it.”
Finally, a lone tear slid down Evelyn’s cheek. Noticing, Leliana turned to her friend, “I know that you had developed feelings for our Commander but-“
“Oh, no, it’s not that,” she brushed aside Leliana’s concerns just as she brushed away the dew, “I knew the moment they touched that any hope I thought I may have had was futile, and truly I’m not so upset about it. How could I be, in the face of such pure love?” She couldn’t help but be drawn back to them, how sweetly they held each other, how their eyes drank each other in with absolute adoration, the way they kissed with such longing and passion. It made her heart throb for them.
Leliana’s smile was one of approval, she cared for both of them and even felt protective of her oldest friends.
“It’s so very… sad. And romantic, like a real life fairytale, but mostly I just ache for them. If all you say is true they have been through so much, and even still their lives are full of hardships, but to be separated from each other for so long, it just seems so, cruel.”
“It’s true the Maker’s plans keep them apart for now, they’ve barely had any time together since they were just boys at the Bournshire monastery learning the Templar craft, but I must believe that their rewards will be equally as great as their sacrifices,” then the bards face darkened, sending a cool blade of ice down Evelyn’s spine, “They had better, or I shall have some choice words for Him myself.”
If it weren’t for the risk of life and limb the absurdity of Leliana’s threat against the Maker himself might have made Evelyn burst into laughter, but as it was she wasn’t so sure that her Spymaster wouldn’t actually make good on it, and so she choked it down. For His own sake, she hoped the Maker took the woman at her word.
“For now,” Leliana’s soft words drew her back, “they make the most of what short time they do have, and so I ask that you be a bit… forgiving, should our Commander and his Warden be a little less diligent in their duties for a time.”
Evelyn understood perfectly that it was not actually a request, but neither was she inclined to deny them whatever happiness they could take from these precious days they had together.
The two women watched on in comfortable silence as Cullen led his love back up the stairs towards their lodging, each carrying one of Alistair’s packs, their hands clasped tightly together between them.
The Inquisitor frowned then. Silence was not something she often experienced in the company of her circle of friends. She turned to the group standing in open-mouthed shock behind her. It seemed the lover’s exit hadn’t gone so unnoticed after all. Then suddenly the temporary quiet burst-
“Did… did anyone else see that?”
“Way to go, Curly!”
“Well, old Cully-Wully just got a whole lot less boring….”
“What. Just. Happened!”
Rolling her eyes Evelyn made vain attempts to shoo the flock of gossip-mongers that were her dearest companions away. She wouldn’t be able to hold them off for long, but she’d do her best to give the lovers at least one evening of peace.