Chapter Text
The next morning, once the Hawkes and Fenris had left the city, Raina made her way to the Viscount’s Keep (though there was no Viscount at present, technically) in a nondescript hooded cloak that made it difficult to tell much about her other than the fact that she was a bit shorter than the average human. It wasn’t until she was at the open door of Aveline’s office within the guards’ quarters that she lowered it as she swept in with a smile.
“Guard Captain!” she greeted the ginger warrior warmly. “Lovely to see you!”
“Warden-Commander,” Aveline said, bowing her head, though her smile belied a bit more warmth than her formality indicated. Someone behind her cleared their throat. She turned, still smiling, though her eyes widened and her smile faded as she saw the warrior before her.
Was he taller? He couldn’t be taller. But he seemed to hold himself so. Gone was the Templar plate; now he wore what looked like a custom cuirass, the armor of a commander, and - the mantle. He really did look like a lion.
She barely missed a beat though -- didn’t at all, really, because Aveline had already begun.
“Warden-Commander Surana, this is the High Commander of the Inquisition’s forces, Cullen Rutherford --”
“We’ve met,” he said, his expression inscrutable.
“I suppose we have,” Raina finally said with a blink, lips curving only just slightly, perhaps a bit ruefully, before she turned her attention back to Aveline.
“I don’t suppose this is a social call, then?” Raina said, undoing the clasp on her cloak to reveal vibrant aqua robes in the Orlesian style. Half her hair was bound and braided, the other half loose, curling merrily past her shoulders. She pointedly did not look at Cullen.
“It is not,” Aveline agreed, looking from her to Cullen and back. “The Inquisition will be providing reinforcements to our troops outside of the city; the Commander has accompanied them since his knowledge of Kirkwall and surrounding environs provide an advantage in planning the movements of his specific troops.”
The guard captain then looked to Cullen. “The Warden-Commander will be offering her insights regarding how best to deploy our magical forces.”
Cullen acknowledged her with a stiff nod.
“I hope I can count on your discretion regarding my presence here, Commander,” Raina finally said with a slight smile. “After all, I’m not here in any official capacity.”
“Of course,” he replied formally.
Aveline’s eyes were slightly narrowed. “Wonderful,” she said.
Raina imagined that by now, Aveline had already calculated at least something of the dynamics between her and Cullen; Aveline had known him when he’d been the Knight-Captain of the Kirkwall Templars, likely even that he was born and raised in Ferelden, as Aveline herself had been. So, too, did the Guard Captain know that Raina also hailed from Ferelden, a Circle mage originally recruited into the Wardens as barely more than an apprentice.
Whatever Aveline had surmised, however, she kept it to herself, and directed both of their attention to the map laid out over her desk, which she’d cleared of all else; the map was large. It illustrated both the city proper in full detail as well all the lands outside of it within Kirkwall’s borders.
“So,” she began. “Vael’s attack is most likely to come from…”
And so it began.
--
As Aveline caught her up on the logistics thus far, Cullen did his level best not to cringe at his own continued inability to function when in a room with Raina Surana.
During a crisis or during battle was one thing -- instinct took over, and there was blessedly little time for niceties or etiquette. Was there a social protocol for approaching a woman whose presence in his mind, if not his life, had been so complicated by myriad tensions for so long? He felt as artless and halting interacting with her in a collaborative setting as he had when he’d been a smitten pup still breaking in his armor and she’d been an apprentice in his charge.
The hell of it was, he had learned a bit of finesse over the years; he understood social dynamics, he knew how to successfully interact with women he was attracted to.
Except Raina Surana, apparently.
Perhaps it was because although the attraction was no longer technically forbidden, it was at the very least ill-advised. He wasn’t given to concerning himself with the political complications of the Inquisition, and his aversion to moving in the social circles where they might matter generally kept him out of trouble. But the complexities of Raina Surana’s position in the world made any interaction with her fraught even before bringing in the substantial history between them. Warden-Commander. Hero of Ferelden. Former lover to the King of Ferelden (who allegedly still carried a torch for her).
Even still, he was here for a purpose. He should be charming her, putting her at her ease, being friendly. But he couldn’t seem to thaw himself, his movements. If anything, she seemed to be trying to put him at his ease.
He shook his head.
But that was to be expected. Although the years had taught him a bit of charm and persuasion, trying to use them on Raina Surana for the sake of gathering intelligence would be a fool’s game, and he knew at least enough to recognize that. The Warden Commander was an expert with those weapons, and he would be hopelessly outmatched.
And if he were being honest with himself, beyond all that, there was too much between him and Raina Surana to play such games.
The way her expression wilted from ebullient to -- what? Dismayed? Pained? Who knew. Whatever the specific emotion, its replacement of her joy cut through him just as keenly as it would have the lovestruck fool he'd been in the Circle.
And now she refused to look at him. Because he’d been a curt, brusque ass. Because he had no idea how “amiable” worked with her, although how much he wanted at least “amiable” could not be expressed.
Still less helpful was that they were in the Guard Captain’s office, strategizing. Any warmth or personal connection he might have wanted to show would have been ill-placed here, in front of Aveline.
And so he did what he knew he could do with complete confidence.
He went to work.
----
They’d been at it for a few hours and Raina was shaking her head.
“No,” she said. “Your Inquisition knight-enchanters will be fine on their own at the front line, but how many knight-enchanters did the Kirkwall Circle train?”
She looked up at him, and he pressed his lips together. She looked at Aveline then.
“While I think it would be brilliant to train up some of the mages here in Kirkwall as knight-enchanters, at this point my guess is there are still few enough of them who’ve had access to such education.”
Cullen narrowed his eyes at her.
“As I think you know, Warden-Commander, there are many mages who are not knight-enchanters who have experience on the front lines.”
She looked up at him then, giving him a brilliant smile.
“Of course. Typically defended by warriors in plate who can attract attention and attacks away from them while they take the thirty seconds to a minute it can require to cast some of the most potent spells.”
“Which simply means we need to distribute them -- I see.”
She grinned at him. He nodded, looking at the map and the pieces representing different troops.
Aveline nodded, a very slight curve bending her lips.
--
The tension, inevitably, had eased to quite a manageable level, as it happened. It was hard to say the Warden-Commander was completely in her element, as she seemed to be in most situations involving other people, but despite her earlier reticence, she spent the work session making jokes, offering smiles to him and Aveline, and soon enough, the three of them were comfortable enough to cut through the niceties when an idea was bad, to clap each other on the back when an idea was good. By nightfall, they had solid plans, contingencies, and alternatives for both the city proper and the open battlefield.
Deciding they’d found a solid place to break, they rose from their respective seats.
“Well, thank you both for all your help,” Aveline said as she took another look at the map. “Will you meet with the mages tomorrow for some training, Surana?”
“It will be my pleasure, of course,” Raina said with a smile. Those mages had no idea what they were in for.
“And I’ll go over the plan with the officers so they know what’s what. Let me know whatever you need in terms of preparation,” Cullen added.
“I’ll send a messenger to your quarters on the morrow,” Aveline said to him. Raina arched a brow, though he was looking studiously at the map. Aveline responded instead: “As an honored guest here in service of the alliance between Kirkwall and the Inquisition, Commander Rutherford is staying at the Keep. You’re staying at the Amell estate, then, Surana?”
“I am,” she said with a smile. “I tried for the Hanged Man for old times’ sake, but Hawke told me I was not allowed to give Carver or their dog fleas.”
Cullen did not want his jaw to tighten or his fingers to flex at the idea of Raina Surana staying at the Hawke estate, or giving anything to Carver Hawke. Of course, his physical response to her closeness with another was indifferent to his desire to dissemble.
“I suppose I ought to get going, though,” she said, lifting herself onto her toes, reaching for the ceiling and stretching. It was then he noted that while they’d been working, the sun had begun to set; lamps and candles had been lit throughout the Keep as darkness quickly fell over the city. Her skin, her curls, her eyes seemed to glow in the warmth of the candlelight.
It was not a long walk to the Amell estate. Not long at all. But Kirkwall had hardly gotten much safer since he’d left it; if anything, the dangers had simply changed.
“I’ll escort you,” he said. She looked up at him, quirking her head oh-so-slightly to one side. Aveline’s brows rose, and he pointedly ignored them.
He fully expected Raina to remind him mockingly -- perhaps… perhaps teasingly -- that she was a Warden-Commander, and likely a fine match for whatever lurked in the dark down the alleys of Kirkwall. And she would be right, most likely. But he did not forget that those with ill intent rarely walked alone in the city at night.
“Why thank you, Commander,” she said, the slightest touch of… something sparkling in her eyes, her smile. But he did not think it was mockery.