The sigh of relief was followed immediately by a pang of... what should he say? "If you wish to, you may. But I was planning on having something sent up from the tavern. Surely you have traveled far to get here and wish to rest?"
Would it be awkward to provide wine? He should offer it, at least... right? What else...
"Is... there anything in particular you would like? They are skilled at making--" he didn't quite know. "Stew?"
"Oh! That is fine. I should really get used to the food offered here if I am to stay." She said, unbothered. "Stew is fine. I am not picky and I am hardly going to start requesting Antivan dishes or what have you while I am sure we are working with limited resources."
A shrug. "I will try to find something suitable to wear for the evening." She loosend her grip on his arm. Finally.
The flash of a frown appeared on his face before he smiled, wondering what she might have brought with her to wear. "Nothing too fancy will be required--though Josephine may have some ideas for you. Or Vivienne." But now what would he wear?
"Well, if you want to come 'round at... let us say, seven? I will have everything prepared for us."
She was not an indulgent woman, but she may or may not have had some fancy dresses from her travels. Lioriley had attended many a fancy ball while hobknobing with nobles in hopes of learning more about the culture of the places she visited.
"That sounds perfect. I will see you then." A beat. She then quickly leaned up to kiss his cheek, scurrying off before either of them could lose their minds about it.
She instead lost her mind in her room with Josephine, who excitedly offered her a few golden bangles and a fancy necklace to go with the two toned dress she already had on, speaking excitedly about how nice it was for the Commander to treat her.
She also said something about a book she read once about a similar situation where old friends met. Lioriley promptly excused herself before she got to the meat (literally) of that tale and hurried off to meet Cullen- about ten minutes early. Oops.
Cullen absolutely did far too much for what he claimed was supposed to be a simple affair.
There were bowls of stew, various types of breads and cheeses, and a bottle of the finest wine he was able to beg the tavernkeeper for in exchange for a little extra coin for their next shipment of supplies. His outfit was a simple red and gold suit jacket that he was sure would be outshone by whatever it was Lioriley chose to wear--he did not expect her to come casually, as he had insisted.
So when he heard that knock on the door, he tried to gulp down the panic at her punctuality--she was early because of course she was. Opening the door, he felt the heat fly to his face as he stared down at her and couldn't help but wonder how she traveled with something so elegant.
"You look lovely," he blurted out. How charming. "You can--ah, take a seat. Either side of the table is fine."
Now he regretted not lighting a candle for the table. But perhaps that would have been too forward?
"Handsome-" oh, now she was the one only muttering half her thoughts aloud without thinking. She cleared her throat. "You look very handsome. You always do, of course."
They were both disasters. Lioriley decided to just laugh it off as best she could, moving in to sit on one side of the table, dress tucked under her thighs. As she settled she looked at the spread before her, eyes wide. "Cullen... you did not have to go through so much trouble." Was that wine?
If his cheeks had the ability to burn even hotter than they already had, they were most definitely doing that. Cullen coughed and muttered a thank you while he turned away, his attention on the table as if he could hide his blush if he just didn't look at her.
"Is it... too much?" It was too much. But... "You are worth the effort, Lioriley."
There. He said something without stumbling over his words.
He sat down across from her, pouring her a glass of wine as he made an intense effort to keep his trembling hand steady.
"No!" She said hurriedly. "No, it is lovely. Thank you." She didn't think she was worth the effort, but she was hardly in the mindset to argue that much, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shifting from the array of food, to Cullen, to the sparse decorations on the stone walls. She bit her lip while she watched the wine pour.
Would telling him she was a hilariously cheap date make him cease his pouring and insist they not partake? It looked like a fine vintage, and it would be rude not to have a glass, at least. She took the glass by the stem, fingertips grazing his knuckles before she pulled back. "A toast. To old friends finally meeting again."
He raised his own glass and gently clinked it against hers. If anything, he hoped the wine would loosen him up enough to have a normal conversation with her. Especially after her fingers touched his and he had to prevent himself from yanking his hand away.
"I still cannot quite believe we have not crossed paths until now. I thought the worst had happened, especially after... well, things at the Circle did not end pleasantly. As you know." He shouldn't tell her about the nightmares, probably.
She pulled her hand back and took a sip, savoring the taste on her tongue and trying her best to place it. Orlesian? Mm. Maybe. Oh, he was talking.
"Well, I had traveled quite extensively since we last saw one another, and I tended to keep far from Ferelden for obvious reasons." Not wanting to be captured and tried as an apostate (re: turned tranquil). "I feared the same of you, truly. Were you-" a beat. Should she ask. "Were you there when the Hero of Ferelden came?"
It made sense. Cullen felt the guilt deep in his chest knowing he would have been one of the ones to chase her down, had he known she was still alive--and not for the right reasons when he'd been freshly saved from those events.
"I was." He swirled his wine and stared into the depths as if it would give him answers. There were memories there that he still had not finished processing. "Many were not so... lucky." If you could call it that. He'd seen horrors beyond anything he'd ever experienced while awake.
She watched him as he spoke, her gaze dimming to something softer; more sympathetic. The way he hesitated to say 'lucky' like he did not think himself as much making her frown and take a larger swig of her wine than she should have.
"We do not have to speak on it further if you do not wish to, Cullen." She offered solemnly. "I am sure it is a... difficult time to parse through. The memories unpleasant." She had only seen the beginning, and that was unpleasant enough.
Cullen gripped his wine glass a bit tighter than he needed to before he relaxed his hand, fearing he may shatter it were he not more careful. "It pains me to know that the actions of the Templars I believed in were a great cause of pain for the mages to have gone through so much. Those of us who made it out--mage and Templar alike--were worse for wear." That was all he was willing to say on the subject for now.
"But I wish to hear of any stories you may have had. Outside of Ferelden I am sure the world is vastly different."
She smiled despite the thought that briefly darkened her mind, not entirely surprised by the change in subject. Too heavy a topic and too soon a reunion, assuredly.
"Oh, it is. All the books in the world could not have prepared me fully for life outside the tower, especially as an elf." And elven apostate so a double whammy of bias and danger. "But it is... beautiful. I went to Antiva - dangerous and warm and so unlike Ferelden. The sea though- it called to me. It always has, I suppose. But I loved it there sans the, ah, political games oft played."
"You do seem the type to find solace in the sea." He said it with a smile on his face, thinking of everything he'd known about her from their time spent together in the Circle, her fondness for healing and the nurturing nature she had toward other mages... the things that had drawn him to her in the first place.
"Politics are everywhere these days... I cannot say I am fond of them myself." Far too much of it with the Inquisition, but it was a game that needed to be played all the same if they wanted any hope in saving the realm. "Though perhaps... things will be a bit easier, now that we are on the same side."
"Do I?" She asked, genuinely curious as to why she might seem the type. She always chalked it up to her fascination with maps and the vastness of the seas around Thedas. She always wanted to see them up close- the lake in which Kinloch Hold stood seemed hardly to suffice for the beauty of the ocean. And she was right.
Lioriley took another sip of her wine, color already painting the tips of her pointed ears and the apples of her cheeks. "I do not mind them, but some places are more... intense, I suppose. Violent, even in their political beliefs and functions." She explained, dark eyes wandering to a nearby wall. "You always were more on the mages side than perhaps was desired by your peers." The words were murmured low. "That is part of why I enjoyed your company so."
Now his own cheeks tinted pink again as he looked away from Lioriley and drank from his own wine glass--even though their color was for different reasons entirely. "You have always been a fascinating woman, much like the ocean." Maybe the wine had loosened his tongue a bit too much. "Pretty on the surface, but also in those boundless depths yet undiscovered."
He coughed a bit. "I have faltered in my... desire to help mages. After what happened I took a path I am not proud of." He probably did not deserve her enjoying his company, with everything he had done since they'd last seen each other.
There was a very undignified squeak from behind her wine glass, another sip taken in an attempt to hide it. A terrible move on her part, given her low alcohol tolerance and the fact that she was already too loose lipped. "Mm. Thank you, that is very sweet of you to say." She finally said, the response feeling mildly inadequate for how much it seemed to fluster her.
She looked back to him, expression shifting into something more sympathetic. "I cannot even imagine how you must have felt." Or what he truly suffered, given the vagueness of what he had shared so far. "But you have a kindness in your heart that most could not claim to possess, Cullen. I saw it then, and I see it now. You allowed me in without hesitation- I like to think that means your desire to help has returned in some capacity."
Cullen watched the crimson liquid in his glass as he swirled it around once, twice. Another drink as he looked back at her. Would he have been so willing to let in any other apostate mage? He'd held his reservations about Dorian and Solas both, but those reservations had since dissipated. "And your desires, Lioriley? What do you wish to happen to the Templars that have subjugated your people?"
The woman had not a single mean bone in her body, and did not expect her to answer in such a way. But... "What do you think should happen with mages after this enemy has been defeated?"
She fell silent. Lioriley was a kind woman, and the lack of a mean bone in her body was painfully accurate. That said - there was a heaviness in her gaze; a shadow of something dark that did not seem to suit her usual cheerful demeanor. "I wish for them to get help." She said. "I know of the lyrium sickness that plagues many, how it twists the mind. So many Templars, I believe, wished to do good and to protect their charges and the common folk in equal measure from the potential dangers of magic. There are some, however... that I am uncertain could be saved. There is a malice in their hearts that cannot be blamed on anything but their own hatred for what they do not understand. Them, I do not know. Imprisonment, at worst." Death, but she would never wish it on anyone.
"The mages should be returned to the circle if they are not already corrupt. Desperation breeds even more desperate people - the circle was good for its intended purpose. But it... both sides are wrong at times, I think. Mages should not be prisoners, but they can be dangerous. Magic is frightening in the wrong hands and a safe place to learn is all that is truly needed."
She sighed and leaned back in her chair, tears stinging her eyes. "All insufficient answers, I fear."
It was a well-thought out answer, and Cullen should have expected no less from such a woman. Yet he found himself wondering what the best answer would be--what answer the Inquisitor would end up making, because certainly they would be the one to make that call. He could only hope their choice was one made with logic rather than in the heat of the moment.
"The Templars, too, need help from the corruption that has befallen many of them." He gripped Lioriley's hand, then looked at her with a soft smile. "Working together with you, this time, instead of watching over you like some caged animal... I think we may be able to do great things, Lioriley."
"They do." She agreed. "There are so many victims, and I wish I could aid them all, if only I knew how." She had started to research, dug and dug and dug for answers for years to solve so many unsolvable problems. Maybe the Inquisition could help — that had been her hope in joining anyway.
She looked down at his hand in her own, fingers curling tight around his, her dark eyes staring absently for a moment as her thumb rolled over his knuckles. "I know that we can."
Then, a long pause. Her voice lowered. "Can I tell you something, Cullen?"
Lioriley was truly no different than the woman he'd known all those years ago: still wanting nothing more than to aid those in need and to find solutions that would see as many people safe as she could. Cullen wished he had her resolve.
He raised a brow at her question, throat closing up a bit as he imagined what she wished to say to him. Perhaps this was where she would tell him that she'd changed her mind and that she did not want to work with him, that their time spent together in the Circle was not something she looked upon fondly the way he had.
She deserved the chance to say it, no matter what it was. "Of course."
Lioriley felt the heat already coloring her cheeks bloom up to the tips of her ears and down her throat, her eyes still focused on their hands for a moment longer.
"There was a time, back in the tower, just before the chaos, where we had spoken. I had invited you to join me in the library and you declined, for what I presume was worry for leaving your station with a mage. And I understood why you had done it, but I had planned to confess something to you that day." And she shouldn't have. And maybe it was better she didn't get the chance... not then, at least. Too dangerous. "I was willing to risk my life for it then."
She took a breath and finally looked up, nervous; fingers shaking in his grasp. "I have loved you for so long, Cullen. Even when I knew it could never happen — when it was wrong given our stations as templar and mage. And I know it has been so long ago now, and I understand if you do not feel the same. But I cannot sit here and lie. I need you to know that I still love you."
That was enough to leave him truly speechless, blinking at her in disbelief. But it was so familiar to all of the nightmares he'd had that a fear gripped his throat and he pulled away from her as he tried to steady his breathing.
How many times had he heard those words from her lips? Or at least--the nightmarish version of her that had haunted him since the day she'd left the tower. Was this simply another nightmare he'd wake up from in a cold sweat? How much of what he remembered in that moment had been real versus a fantasy made up by some creature bent on destroying him from the inside?
"I--"
A breath in. A breath out.
He closed his eyes. Maybe he should have not tried to quit using lyrium, after all.
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Would it be awkward to provide wine? He should offer it, at least... right? What else...
"Is... there anything in particular you would like? They are skilled at making--" he didn't quite know. "Stew?"
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A shrug. "I will try to find something suitable to wear for the evening." She loosend her grip on his arm. Finally.
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"Well, if you want to come 'round at... let us say, seven? I will have everything prepared for us."
And an outfit. He hoped.
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"That sounds perfect. I will see you then." A beat. She then quickly leaned up to kiss his cheek, scurrying off before either of them could lose their minds about it.
She instead lost her mind in her room with Josephine, who excitedly offered her a few golden bangles and a fancy necklace to go with the two toned dress she already had on, speaking excitedly about how nice it was for the Commander to treat her.
She also said something about a book she read once about a similar situation where old friends met. Lioriley promptly excused herself before she got to the meat (literally) of that tale and hurried off to meet Cullen- about ten minutes early. Oops.
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There were bowls of stew, various types of breads and cheeses, and a bottle of the finest wine he was able to beg the tavernkeeper for in exchange for a little extra coin for their next shipment of supplies. His outfit was a simple red and gold suit jacket that he was sure would be outshone by whatever it was Lioriley chose to wear--he did not expect her to come casually, as he had insisted.
So when he heard that knock on the door, he tried to gulp down the panic at her punctuality--she was early because of course she was. Opening the door, he felt the heat fly to his face as he stared down at her and couldn't help but wonder how she traveled with something so elegant.
"You look lovely," he blurted out. How charming. "You can--ah, take a seat. Either side of the table is fine."
Now he regretted not lighting a candle for the table. But perhaps that would have been too forward?
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They were both disasters. Lioriley decided to just laugh it off as best she could, moving in to sit on one side of the table, dress tucked under her thighs. As she settled she looked at the spread before her, eyes wide. "Cullen... you did not have to go through so much trouble." Was that wine?
Oh no.
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"Is it... too much?" It was too much. But... "You are worth the effort, Lioriley."
There. He said something without stumbling over his words.
He sat down across from her, pouring her a glass of wine as he made an intense effort to keep his trembling hand steady.
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Would telling him she was a hilariously cheap date make him cease his pouring and insist they not partake? It looked like a fine vintage, and it would be rude not to have a glass, at least. She took the glass by the stem, fingertips grazing his knuckles before she pulled back. "A toast. To old friends finally meeting again."
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"I still cannot quite believe we have not crossed paths until now. I thought the worst had happened, especially after... well, things at the Circle did not end pleasantly. As you know." He shouldn't tell her about the nightmares, probably.
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"Well, I had traveled quite extensively since we last saw one another, and I tended to keep far from Ferelden for obvious reasons." Not wanting to be captured and tried as an apostate (re: turned tranquil). "I feared the same of you, truly. Were you-" a beat. Should she ask. "Were you there when the Hero of Ferelden came?"
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"I was." He swirled his wine and stared into the depths as if it would give him answers. There were memories there that he still had not finished processing. "Many were not so... lucky." If you could call it that. He'd seen horrors beyond anything he'd ever experienced while awake.
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"We do not have to speak on it further if you do not wish to, Cullen." She offered solemnly. "I am sure it is a... difficult time to parse through. The memories unpleasant." She had only seen the beginning, and that was unpleasant enough.
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"But I wish to hear of any stories you may have had. Outside of Ferelden I am sure the world is vastly different."
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She smiled despite the thought that briefly darkened her mind, not entirely surprised by the change in subject. Too heavy a topic and too soon a reunion, assuredly.
"Oh, it is. All the books in the world could not have prepared me fully for life outside the tower, especially as an elf." And elven apostate so a double whammy of bias and danger. "But it is... beautiful. I went to Antiva - dangerous and warm and so unlike Ferelden. The sea though- it called to me. It always has, I suppose. But I loved it there sans the, ah, political games oft played."
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"Politics are everywhere these days... I cannot say I am fond of them myself." Far too much of it with the Inquisition, but it was a game that needed to be played all the same if they wanted any hope in saving the realm. "Though perhaps... things will be a bit easier, now that we are on the same side."
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Lioriley took another sip of her wine, color already painting the tips of her pointed ears and the apples of her cheeks. "I do not mind them, but some places are more... intense, I suppose. Violent, even in their political beliefs and functions." She explained, dark eyes wandering to a nearby wall. "You always were more on the mages side than perhaps was desired by your peers." The words were murmured low. "That is part of why I enjoyed your company so."
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He coughed a bit. "I have faltered in my... desire to help mages. After what happened I took a path I am not proud of." He probably did not deserve her enjoying his company, with everything he had done since they'd last seen each other.
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She looked back to him, expression shifting into something more sympathetic. "I cannot even imagine how you must have felt." Or what he truly suffered, given the vagueness of what he had shared so far. "But you have a kindness in your heart that most could not claim to possess, Cullen. I saw it then, and I see it now. You allowed me in without hesitation- I like to think that means your desire to help has returned in some capacity."
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The woman had not a single mean bone in her body, and did not expect her to answer in such a way. But... "What do you think should happen with mages after this enemy has been defeated?"
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"The mages should be returned to the circle if they are not already corrupt. Desperation breeds even more desperate people - the circle was good for its intended purpose. But it... both sides are wrong at times, I think. Mages should not be prisoners, but they can be dangerous. Magic is frightening in the wrong hands and a safe place to learn is all that is truly needed."
She sighed and leaned back in her chair, tears stinging her eyes. "All insufficient answers, I fear."
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"The Templars, too, need help from the corruption that has befallen many of them." He gripped Lioriley's hand, then looked at her with a soft smile. "Working together with you, this time, instead of watching over you like some caged animal... I think we may be able to do great things, Lioriley."
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She looked down at his hand in her own, fingers curling tight around his, her dark eyes staring absently for a moment as her thumb rolled over his knuckles. "I know that we can."
Then, a long pause. Her voice lowered. "Can I tell you something, Cullen?"
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He raised a brow at her question, throat closing up a bit as he imagined what she wished to say to him. Perhaps this was where she would tell him that she'd changed her mind and that she did not want to work with him, that their time spent together in the Circle was not something she looked upon fondly the way he had.
She deserved the chance to say it, no matter what it was. "Of course."
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Lioriley felt the heat already coloring her cheeks bloom up to the tips of her ears and down her throat, her eyes still focused on their hands for a moment longer.
"There was a time, back in the tower, just before the chaos, where we had spoken. I had invited you to join me in the library and you declined, for what I presume was worry for leaving your station with a mage. And I understood why you had done it, but I had planned to confess something to you that day." And she shouldn't have. And maybe it was better she didn't get the chance... not then, at least. Too dangerous. "I was willing to risk my life for it then."
She took a breath and finally looked up, nervous; fingers shaking in his grasp. "I have loved you for so long, Cullen. Even when I knew it could never happen — when it was wrong given our stations as templar and mage. And I know it has been so long ago now, and I understand if you do not feel the same. But I cannot sit here and lie. I need you to know that I still love you."
cw panic attack teehee
How many times had he heard those words from her lips? Or at least--the nightmarish version of her that had haunted him since the day she'd left the tower. Was this simply another nightmare he'd wake up from in a cold sweat? How much of what he remembered in that moment had been real versus a fantasy made up by some creature bent on destroying him from the inside?
"I--"
A breath in. A breath out.
He closed his eyes. Maybe he should have not tried to quit using lyrium, after all.
"Is this real?"
DONT TEEHEE ME
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