#even me despite how often i try to embrace my sloppiness in my art

[bmpmp3]

*weakly, shakily reaching up from the ground* hhhhaaaaaauuuuuughhhhhh..,. I must create.... mediocre. art and........,.stories

[blustersquall]

Only Make Believe // Chapter 33: Kirkwall

Sorry for the delay in chapters! Last weekend I was really not well, so I had to put off uploading until this weekend because I needed to edit! Thank you for your patience! Please enjoy this chapter. <3

As always, this chapter is also up on AO3 for those who prefer to read it there. 

January 1st

--

The first morning of the new year was a blissfully lazy one. Despite waking several more times during the night, Cullen was refreshed when he rubbed his eyes, determined not to fall back to sleep. Nevena was still in the bed beside him, her back to him and almost entirely hidden under the covers but for the mess of golden blonde waves spread over her pillow. He checked his phone quickly to see the time. It was late in the morning – almost lunch time. It was a late night for everyone, and Cullen wasn’t used to staying up past midnight.

Perhaps when he was younger. But not anymore.

He lamented the fact he was getting old.

After returning his phone to the bedside table, Cullen rolled onto his side to face Nevena’s back. He pulled the covers down enough that he could see her cheek and her shoulder and found she was still asleep. Though not deeply as she stirred when he slipped his arm over her waist. She wriggled herself towards him, her back pressing into his chest murmuring a few incoherent words to him or to herself. Cullen arced his hips away as much as he was able while still maintaining a small level of comfort.

“Time to get up,” Cullen said, kissing her shoulder. “It’s almost lunchtime.”

Nevena groaned something in response, her face scrunching up before she turned slightly and buried it into her pillow. The gesture only caused Cullen to laugh.

“You really are not a morning person, are you?”

“S’not morning if it’s lunchtime.”

“Almost lunch time.” Cullen retorted, prodding Nevena in the ribcage. She jerked sharply at that, her whole body jumping as if hit by an electric shock. “It’ll be a slow day, I’m sure. We should, at the very least, see how Varric and Cassandra are faring.”

After a momentary silence, a deep breath, and sigh, Nevena rolled over onto her back, clearing her hair away from her face. She was alert but looked tired with a subtle shadow beneath her eyes. Cullen wondered just how much she’d slept during the night, both before she came to him and after. Had his nightmares caused her to wake as well? He was never sure exactly what he did or if he said anything when the nightmares came. In the past, Solona occasionally slept in the living room when the withdrawal was particularly bad, and her sleep was suffering due to Cullen’s post-traumatic stress. He never told her, but it hurt him deeply when she did. It was just affirmation to him that he was a problem.

“Good morning,” Cullen cupped Nevena’s cheek and kissed her as tenderly as possible, happy to feel her reciprocate with her own sleepy kiss. “How did you sleep?”

“Okay,” Nevena sighed again, her eyes only half-open. “The mattress is a little hard for me. My back hurts a bit.”

Cullen frowned, “is it bad?”

“No,” she shrugged, “just uncomfortable. I’m sure it’ll ease out if I move around a bit.” Even as she lay beneath him speaking, he could see the effort she was making to keep her eyes open.

“You’re tired.” Said Cullen, gently brushing his thumb beneath her eye. He knew the answer, but asked anyway, “did I wake you during the night?”

Her hand came and covered his. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” He huffed and lay down on his side, nestling as close as possible. It was stupid for him to even ask her. He woke her, and she was too kind to come right out and say it. “We don’t have to get up. Try and go back to sleep if you can.”

“Cullen…” Nevena’s sleepy gaze grew a little harder when she looked at him, but she said nothing else beyond his name. Cullen moved his hand at her cheek, laying that arm over her waist and settled into the covers beside her. No further attempts at protest came, and in seconds Nevena was breathing steadily, her eyes closed, the fingers of her hand lightly stroking a repetitive pattern up and down his forearm.

Perhaps spending the night together had not been the best idea. They’d had a late night anyway, and even after they talked, they probably didn’t get to sleep until after four in the morning. And given that he woke several times… He hadn’t got up out of bed again, but he knew first-hand how jarring and startling it was when he woke from his nightmares.

He was used to it. Nevena was not.

After what might have been ten minutes, Nevena’s fingers had stopped and her breathing deepened. Choosing to let her sleep longer, Cullen set about leaving her embrace with care, trying to avoid waking her again. He pulled the covers up to her chest, kissed her forehead and left to venture downstairs after pulling his sweatpants and a hoodie on.

He was able to hear both Varric and Cassandra talking in the living room as he made his way to the kitchen, his need for caffeine pulling him there. From what he could recall of the night before, they had both been drinking but not excessively. Cullen poured himself a mug of black coffee before entering the living room to join them.

“Good morning!” Varric said, grinning and far too cheerful.

“Mornin’,” Cullen sat on the couch beside Cassandra. Both she and Varric were dressed in what Cullen could only describe as ‘sloppy house wear’. Comfortable and baggy. “What time did you two get to bed last night?” He sipped his coffee.

“Three?” Cassandra looked to Varric for clarification.

“About that,” he nodded and leaned back in his arm chair. “Kestrel – y’know, Hawke - and Fenris stuck around a bit after everyone else had left.”

“Ah.”

“Is Nevena not up?”

“Not yet.” Cullen drank from his mug again, almost certain Cassandra and Varric could see on his face that she spent the night with him. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to hide it. They were adults and had established they wanted to be in a relationship. There was nothing wrong with them spending the night together… perhaps it was more due to it being Cassandra and Varric’s home. “I thought it might be kind to let her sleep in a bit longer.”

“Wore her out did you, Curly?”

“Varric!” Cassandra quickly snapped at him before Cullen could retort a biting response. He held the hot coffee on his tongue until it burned.

“We stayed up talking, actually.” Cullen said primly. “And, unfortunately, nightmares have been quite frequent. We’ve both been a bit worn out.”

At the mention of nightmares, Varric’s expression sobered. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know.”

 “How bad have they been?” asked Cassandra, with a soft almost sisterly tone.

“They’re… you know, I manage. Nevena’s not used to them, that’s all.” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze to the floor. “I’m sure once we’re back in Denerim and normality has resumed they’ll become infrequent again.”

“Probably,” Varric shrugged. “If you didn’t get them much before…”

“There’s no chance of them ever stopping?” Cassandra queried, lifting her coffee mug and taking a drink afterwards.

“I don’t know.” Cullen said, “there’s a lot about lyrium and coming off it that I don’t know. And… that I’m not privy to knowing, now I’m no longer serving with the TEMPLARs. If the worst I get is nightmares, the occasional muscle weakness, and headaches – I’ll take it.”

Cassandra’s quirked her lips to one side, clearly unhappy with the answer, but lacking anything more to say.

“Well, stepping away from such a happy topic of conversation,” Varric got to his feet, “any thoughts on what you and Freckles want to do today?”

“Relax?” Cullen smiled, happy to talk about something that wasn’t entirely focused on him. “Nevena asked about seeing Kirkwall… She wanted to see my old ‘stomping ground’.”

“Your stomping ground?” repeated Varric, his smile growing into a grin. “The Hanged Man? The Gallows?”

“Maybe not The Gallows…” he sighed. “They’re not the most cheerful place.”

“The Blooming Rose?” The tone of glee in Varric’s voice was a little unnerving.

“I…” Cullen ran a hand back through his hair, “I suppose we could make a stop there.” The tips of his ears started to grow warmer. Cullen had never partaken in the services offered by Kirkwall’s local gentleman’s club, but he’d gone there to deal with difficult customers in the past and that was enough for him. He was often teased by his comrades during his time in Kirkwall for not taking advantage of the services, and while there had been times he was tempted, he never did because the thought of paying for sex, or just simply sex for the sake of sex never sat right with him. Plus, at the time he had Solona, and even when times were difficult, the thought of being unfaithful never crossed his mind.

“You know,” Cassandra put her coffee mug on the table, “I think there’s an exhibition happening at what remains of the Grand Cathedral.”

“Oh?”

“Some kind of art installation. Or… something, there was a leaflet about it, just before Christmas.” She smiled, “I’ll double check when it begins, but if you feel up to it, we four could go along. It’s free, I think and better than staying cooped up indoors all day.”

“That sounds like a pleasant, easy-going afternoon,” agreed Cullen. “The Hanged Man and then the Chantry, then?”

“Have you decided when you’re heading to Ostwick?” Varric picked at a chip on the handle of his mug. “Dorian and Josephine told me they’ll be looking into Nevena’s family, or at least, her mother’s side. How did she find talking to them?”

“Uh, a little difficult?” Cullen shrugged, his mouth quirking to one side. “She didn’t say so, but I got the feeling she didn’t think she was particularly useful. She knows as much as her father told her, which wasn’t much… and I’m not entirely sure if everything he said was true. But both Dorian and Josephine seemed satisfied with what she could provide. So… fingers crossed they can find something.”

“Don’t you worry,” Varric arched his fingers, leaning back in his chair. “Those two are the smartest people I know. If anyone can dig up information, it’s them.”

“You don’t have to leave for Ostwick right away, you know?” Cassandra said gently. “You’re welcome to stay here until you have to leave to meet them. What would you do in Ostwick in the meantime, anyway?”

“I think Nevena wanted to see if her family home was still standing.” Cullen rubbed his hand over his stubble. “Though why she’d want to go back there is… I can’t quite fathom her reasoning, though I’m sure there is one.”

“Sentiment.” Varric shrugged. There was a tone to his voice, Cullen noticed, that seemed to have a gravitas to it. As though he was speaking from experience. “Even if your experiences somewhere are… bad, there’s always a part of you that clings to it. Whether that sentiment is bad or good though, I don’t know.”

Cassandra levelled him with a shrewd look. “Not everyone clings to their memories as much as you do, Varric.”

“I don’t cling, that’s Bartrand. He’s the one who buries himself in the past. I hold on to my personal angst and channel it into my writing.”

“Oh!” she laughed, “is that what you’re channelling when you write that smutty literature. Angst?”

“Inspiration has gotta come from somewhere!”

Cullen leaned back, smiling into his coffee while he listened to the two of them bicker playfully back and forth. He knew there was no venom or meanness behind the things being said, that this was simply how Cassandra and Varric communicated sometimes. It was nice. The simple domesticity of it. His parents used to bicker back and forth.

He could remember them doing so in the kitchen, then one of them kissing the other to bring the banter to a close. As a boy he used to pretend to retch and groan when his parents indulged in acts of affection. Now, as a grown man, he understood the importance of those little things. The small acts that went unnoticed by everyone else, but were part of the bedrock of a safe, secure, and trusting relationship.

He hoped one day to have a relationship like the one his parents had. He thought he found it with Solona though, in hindsight, he knew that wasn’t the case. There were so many things he kept hidden from her. So much trauma he kept internalised, too afraid of it scaring her, and too afraid of it to confront it himself. Maybe, now he was older, and he was beginning to exorcise the demons and the shadows and the ghosts of his past, he’d be able to move past that. Maybe, in time, he and Nevena would be able to have that same closeness and unspoken affection his parents once shared.

When Cassandra got to her feet, marking a clear end to their playful arguing, Cullen followed her to the kitchen, and emptied what was left of his coffee into the sink.

“Go and wake Nevena,” Cassandra said, ruffling a hand through her short hair and causing parts of it to stand at odd angles. “Take your time, there’s no rush to get going. I’ll find out a bit more about this installation thing.”

“Alright.” Cullen stacked his mug in the dishwasher and quickly went upstairs, opening the door to his room softly so not to wake Nevena if she was still asleep.

She was still sleeping soundly on her front, cuddling a pillow with one leg bent and her knee visible poking out from under the covers. She looked peaceful; settled and comfortable, Cullen didn’t have much of a heart to wake her, but if he didn’t then Cassandra or Varric would.

He went and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over her and kissing the side of her temple. He brushed her hair back away from her face. “Nev?” He waited a moment for a reaction. “Nev, time to get up.”

“Yousmelllikecoffee.” Nevena mumbled. She reached up with a heavy arm, patting the covers and blindly searching for him with outstretched fingers. He held her wandering hand, squeezing her fingers and kissing her knuckles. “Come back to bed…”

Cullen chuckled, kissing her temple again. “Would that I could.” He nudged her with his nose. “Cassandra has plans for the day. And, if I remember rightly, you wanted to see my old stomping ground?” He saw one of Nevena’s eyes open and focus on him, her interest piqued. “You have to get up and get dressed.”

She groaned. “Okay…” Slowly, and with some reluctance, she rose to sit up, stretching her arms above her head and yawning. Doing so caused her shirt to rise, exposing her belly, a view that was tantalizing and brought memories of her hot skin bare beneath his hands flooding back to Cullen’s mind. Nevena blinked, smiled a small dopey smile and shuffled towards him. “Hi…” she mumbled, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Good morning,” he kissed her nose. “Go get showered.” He patted her thigh in a gentle suggestion she get moving. “I’ll have one after you.”

“Then we get going?”

He nodded, “once Varric and Cassandra are ready, we’ll get going.”

Nevena smiled, kissed him, and clambered off the bed.

The Hanged Man was located in one of the less savoury neighbourhoods of Kirkwall and Cullen was pleased, in a strange sort of a way to see that the macabre piece of a carved wooden man being dangled by his feet above the door hadn’t changed in the years since his last visit. It had aged. There were water stains from rain, and the rope that once held it aloft had been exchanged for some kind of thick industrial wire, but beyond that it was the same. Even the interior appeared exactly the same. The hardwood floors were sticky underfoot, the tables all looked as though they had seen better days and Cullen counted only four matching chairs. All the rest was a brick-a-brac of stools and chairs probably bought from car boot or yard sales.

When he was stationed in Kirkwall, he only frequented The Hanged Man when he was dragged along by his comrades. Back then, the beer was awful and strong. More than once an evening at The Hanged Man resulted in a horrific hangover the next morning and Cullen doubled over the toilet, suffering.

Still, despite its décor and the rough look of the place, it was… familiar. Homey. Despite the threatening name and the way everything looked as though it was being held together by duct tape and glue, there was a friendliness to it that came with the patrons glancing towards the door and the barkeep warmly greeting their group as they entered.

Cullen glanced down at Nevena at his side, worried she would be disappointed that whatever she imagined his ‘old stomping ground’ to be, this would not be it. He was surprised to see her grinning, and her eyes wide, taking in everything around her.

She was the same the whole time they walked around Kirkwall. Cullen forgot it was her first visit, so everything was new and fascinating for her. Although Kirkwall was just like any other city to him, Nevena found small nuances and intricacies that he either missed, overlooked in his time there, or had forgotten about.

Like how some of the paving stones were carved with sigils and symbols from ancient Tevinter, which made sense, when Cullen really thought about it. Kirkwall was built by the ancient Tevinter Imperium and had been abandoned when the original inhabitants retreated back to their homeland thousands of years ago. She paid attention to the bronze statues that lined some of the streets and reeled of interesting little facts about the number of stairs in each flight they came across as they walked from place to place – explaining how certain numbers had specific meanings for the ancient Tevinters.

The walk-through Kirkwall’s Hightown, where Varric lived took them through a collection of large houses that had been converted to flats to make room for the growing population. They cut through the old Grand Cathedral courtyard, wound down though the main thoroughfare of shops, where they paused to window shop and – much to Cullen’s chagrin – Varric guided them so they had to at least pass by The Blooming Rose.

It was open, two bouncers standing outside it with ear pieces and frisking anyone who wanted entry. Cullen was at least glad to see the place had upped its security since his last time in Kirkwall. As a TEMPLAR he was called out one too many times to deal with disturbances there. Several times he escorted rowdy clients or violent ones to spend the night in the Gallows. Though Varric teased about going inside to at least have a drink, Cassandra was the one to cut that idea down in its tracks and got them walking towards Lower Kirkwall, and their primary destination.

When they entered the Hanged Man, Varric was immediately recognised and greeted by a gristled older man behind the bar. He beckoned both Varric and Cassandra over, and Nevena went with them, guided by Varric to be introduced. Cullen found a table to sit at and glanced over the small bar food menu. There wasn’t a lot on offer, and Cullen didn’t think he would eat anything from the Hanged Man kitchens anyway, if the front of house was anything to go by. Still, he was pleased to see the place in business and, apparently, doing quite well.

There was music coming from over some old speakers, and Cullen found himself tapping his fingers along to the beat of the music while letting his mind and eyes wander over the interior of the building. Most patrons glanced his way, and then went back to their drinks or their conversation. One of the wait staff smiled at him when they made eye contact – he smiled back out of politeness. He examined some of the décor on the wall. Strange, obscure signs from a by-gone era. More macabre art, similar to the hanging man outside. Some black and white photographs of Kirkwall from years ago, blown up to be bigger.  It was all very quaint and comfortable, enough to put him at ease.

The sense of someone watching him only dawned on him after he’d been sitting quietly for about five minutes. A gaze, not angry or threatening, watching him from across the room. He searched for the source, smiling to himself when he realised Nevena was watching him from the bar, where she was standing slightly off to one side while Cassandra and Varric continued their conversation with the bar tender.

Realising she’d been caught staring, she offered a small bashful smile and equally sheepish wave, before turning her attention back to the conversation… For about ten seconds. Then her eyes were on Cullen again, and this time neither of them looked away.

It was a strange sensation, as though the room and the world around them melted while their eyes were locked. Cullen could feel himself smiling and warmth on his cheeks, beginning to spill down his neck. Nevena quirked the corner of her mouth a little. Her gaze dropped as she fiddled with the cuff of her jumper, and then she lifted it again to meet Cullen’s eyes. This time, she bit the corner of her bottom lip in a way that was coy but also reminded Cullen of the night they spent together, and for the second time that day, his mind was flooded with memories of that time. The smell of her skin, the sound of her voice in his ears. Breathy moans, soft murmurs of his name spurring him on. The way she clung to him, as if trying to draw him deeper into her with every grind of his hips.

He shifted in his seat, his legs jiggling under the table while he tried to ignore the heaviness that settled in his stomach. There was heat in her gaze, the same kind of heat he’d seen in her the night before while they were in his room. The same heat he’d seen in her gaze when they were alone in Redcliffe, and during the crossing to Kirkwall.

Was she thinking the same things he was? Was her mind filled with sights and sounds like his? Did she hear his grunts in her ears? Could she feel his weight on top of her? The way his heart raced when he came? Nevena licked her bottom lip. She tilted her head back, lifting one hand to brush her fingers back through her hair, pushing it away from her neck and shoulder. Her throat was exposed, and Cullen remembered the sounds she made when he kissed her there. He remembered the giggles too, when his stubble tickled her.

His fingers twitched. It was as though every gesture reminded him of the night before. Of breaths and bodies intertwined and how easily and naturally they came together. Of course, it wasn’t perfect. Clothes remained, which he didn’t mind, and he would need to spend more time tending to Nevena’s needs in the future, rather than focus on himself… but there was time. There would be time. Plenty of it, once they were back in Denerim and they could really try this relationship out. And he wanted to spend time getting to know her body. Exploring every inch of her, covering her skin with kisses. He wanted to spend hours caressing her skin, memorizing every curve and dip. If she allowed him, he wanted to rest his head between her thighs. He wanted to feel soft flesh around his ears. Wanted the taste of her on his tongue, to hear the way her voice lifted as he brought her to the edge with his mouth and his fingers. He wanted to see her satisfied, satiated, loved and adored and--

Someone sitting down heavily opposite him broke Cullen’s train of thought, and The Hanged Man came back into view in a dramatic and jarring fashion – like glass breaking. Cullen’s face was hot, and his jeans were tighter around his erection mercifully hidden by the table. He could almost see the redness in his cheeks, so he swallowed hard and cleared his throat, breaking his gaze away from Nevena – who was now in conversation with Varric and the bartender.

Cassandra sat on the other side of the table, her drink and his on coasters between them. Cullen lifted his beer to drink. She levelled him with a long, judging look, before taking a sip from her glass. “Honestly, the way you two were looking at each other, I’m surprised you didn’t set the tables between you on fire.” Cullen sputtered on his mouthful, quickly thumping his chest to clear it as the beer went down the wrong way making his eyes water. Cassandra held no sympathy, and simply waited for him to settle before she spoke again. “I say this to you as a friend, and meaning no insult, but you need to slow down.”

“I… what?” Cullen asked, blinking hard. “I thought you liked Nevena.”

“I do.” Cassandra said. “I do like her. I think she’s very sweet. But I am concerned for you.”

“You needn’t be, I’m in total control of my faculties.”

“Cullen,” sighed Cassandra. The severity of her expression belied a genuine sincerity in her words. She was looking out for him, as she had become accustomed to doing. Cassandra only had his best interests at heart. He swallowed his pride to hear her out.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You’ve never moved this fast with anyone.” Cassandra explained, “I worry that you’re rushing into things. You’re adults. What you do is your business, but I hoped that the two of you coming here would allow you to put some space between you and examine your relationship. Instead, you’re practically joined at the hip.”

“And that’s… bad?”

“No,” she took a sip of her drink and quickly glanced back to where Nevena and Varric were still engrossed in conversation. The bartender was pointing to the various decorations and photographs on the wall, explaining what some of them were. “It seems… out of character, for you, to rush in like some foolhardy, lovesick school boy.”

“I’m not...” Cullen sighed and rubbed his hand over his chin. Leaning his elbow on the table, he took a breath and tried to contain the irritation building in side him. “We’re not rushing things.”

“You’ve known each other less than a month.” Cassandra argued, her voice waspish. “You’ve shared a bed the nights you’ve been here, despite both having your own rooms. You disappeared from the party last night to spend time with her. Cullen, I’m simply suggesting you put the brakes on, at least a little.”

“I know,” Cullen’s tone was still and hard. “But it’s hard to do when you just… know.”

“Know what?”

“That…” he tutted, the tips of his ears warming. “That the person in front of you is just the right one for you.” He saw a look of disbelief in Cassandra’s face. “You’re a romantic. You know that sometimes it just feels right.”

“In books.” Cassandra said. “In films. In television. It doesn’t work that way in real life, Cullen.”

“Maybe it does!” he tried to keep his voice low, but a few patrons glanced at the table when he spoke. He took a long inhale, trying to calm himself. “Maybe it never has for you, but… I don’t know. I can’t explain how I feel about her, but I know that it’s good. I know that I have never felt like this about anyone. Not even Solona.”

Cassandra touched his hand, “and I’m happy for you, I am.”

“But…?”

“But I would hate to see you go so fast into something, only to be hurt. Nevena seemed sincere when I spoke to her. She also seemed… hesitant.”

“Hesitant?” Cullen repeated. “Well,” he took a sip of his beer to give him a moment to think. “She probably didn’t like you interrogating her at six o’clock in the morning.” His words came out sharper than he anticipated, and Cassandra’s gaze grew stony. She removed her hand from his.

“I was not interrogating her, merely airing my concerns, as I am doing now. With you.” She stated with a steady, detached coolness. “You will do whatever you decide, as you always do. I have said what I meant to say, and I will continue to say that I believe you should slow down, before you say something or do something you cannot take back, but ultimately, you will do as you see fit.”

“Thank you for that, at least.” Cullen bit back, knowing how petulant he sounded.

Cassandra pursed her lips. She took a long drink from her glass and the two of them sat in silence, waiting for Varric and Nevena to come to the table and join them. Cullen fumed quietly. He thought Cassandra liked Nevena, but now he wondered if that was the case at all. Or if Cassandra was simply pretending for Nevena’s sake.

Why couldn’t his friend just be happy for him?

He found someone, quite unexpectedly, that he liked and cared about. Yes, maybe things were going too fast. Or faster than he or they anticipated – but they were acting as though he and Nevena were getting married after knowing each other a day when that wasn’t the case. He supposed it wasn’t easy for them to see the whole picture. After all, they hadn’t witnessed everything the two of them had experienced together, all the things they told each other, and the intimacies they shared. He supposed that from the outside and not knowing everything, maybe it did seem like he and Nevena were like a train careening off the rails with no end in sight.

Of course, there was the worry that Cassandra had a point.

What if Nevena wasn’t as invested as he was? And what if perhaps she was simply trying to meet him step-for-step? Maybe she would have preferred if things moved at a more sedate pace but was too afraid to say something. Given her past experiences when she gave her negative opinion, he wouldn’t have put it past her to stay silent to maintain avoid confrontation. And that… only further added to his worry.

What if he was forcing her into this relationship? What if everything he felt wasn’t entirely reciprocated? What if, despite everything, he was just like Rick?

That thought made Cullen’s stomach turn.

He didn’t want to be another Rick in Nevena’s life. He wanted her to be free to make her own choices. To be with him because she wanted to be, not because she felt obligated, or too afraid to say, “thank you, but no thank you”. He thought back to the ship and was horrified to remember that he was the one who prompted her to say what she said, about giving their relationship a chance. Had he put the words in her mouth? What if she’d been trying to say something else and he’d spoken over her?

Maker, had he really been so crass and thoughtless? What if everything from that point had been because she was afraid of angering him? What if she had never wanted things to get as far as they had? She never wanted him to get as attached as he was? What if everything they’d done was because she felt she had to, and not because she wanted to?

Sickening coldness slithered through Cullen’s body. It made his skin crawl and his whole being from the outside-in feel empty and numb. Was he just another Rick? He hoped not, but now the seed was planted and he couldn’t shake the feeling he was just as bad, if not worse.

His spiral into self-loathing ended briefly when Varric and Nevena joined them at the table. Varric sat beside Cassandra, and Nevena beside Cullen. Immediately she reached out and squeezed his hand, a sweet smile on her face. Cullen tried to return it, but it felt like his face was going to crack, so he distracted himself with a drink. He could feel the warmth of her skin trying to penetrate the coldness of his fingertips. He wanted to lace his fingers between hers, to brush his thumb over her knuckles as he had done over and over and over again… but now he wasn’t sure if he could.

If he even should.

Cullen fell silent while the others talked, the sense of dread and self-hatred threatening to swallow him whole.

They left The Hanged Man at around quarter to seven, as the exhibition Cassandra suggested they attend started at seven. While Cassandra and Varric led the way, Nevena followed with Cullen at her side, clasping his hand. They spent a good two hours at The Hanged Man, mostly Varric talking and regaling her with tales of his friends, and their exploits around the city. Cullen was worryingly quiet. At first, Nevena thought it was simply because he was letting Varric talk, but after a while she noticed he began to fidget with his hands, lacing and unlacing his fingers over and over again. She wondered if the tremors had returned and watched carefully when he had his hands on the table. She couldn’t see any shaking, but Cullen had years of practice when he wanted to hide it.

When they left the warmth of the pub, the biting cold forced the air from her lungs; stunning her for a moment until she sucked in an almost painfully frozen breath and pulled her coat tighter around her. They passed what remained of the Grand Cathedral on their way to the Hanged Man, and at the time Nevena had taken little notice. Now, as they approached, she could see the sheer mass of the building. Even though most of it was destroyed and a large amount had been rebuilt, what remained of the original foundation gave some small indication to its original enormity. She ventured a guess that before the structure was destroyed, it would have dwarfed the cathedral in Redcliffe.

“How was the original Grand Cathedral destroyed?” Nevena asked Varric as the four of them climbed the stairs up towards the main entrance. The steps themselves were lined with candles, all part of the exhibition it seemed. There were other people making their way too. Nevena saw security guards at the bottom of the stairs, and saw two more standing at the large open, double doors, checking people’s bags and directing them to walk through what appeared to be metal detectors.

“It was blown up.” Varric sighed. “Someone desperate to be heard and who was tired of being ignored… His, and the plight of other people going ignored.”

“Oh,” Nevena mumbled.

“Cullen was here when it happened, weren’t you?” Cassandra asked, glancing back over her shoulder at Cullen who seemed to start when he was addressed.

“Hm? What was that?”

“You were in Kirkwall when the Chantry was destroyed.”

“Oh,” Cullen swallowed visibly. “Y-yes, I was.” He offered Nevena a brief smile, his hand clenching for a moment around hers. She could recall him mentioning Kirkwall the first time he opened up to her, after his panic attack on the ski lift. How he said he had become trapped in the rubble of a destroyed house for days after trying to help someone else trapped inside.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a sensitive topic,” Nevena murmured, reaching across to rub his arm in what she hoped was a comforting manner. Cullen gave a weak smile and continued after Varric and Cassandra when the security guards had checked them over for anything potentially dangerous.

Concern gnawed the back of Nevena’s mind. There was something off. In the time between arriving at The Hanged Man and she and Varric sitting down after the bartender talked to her at length about the history of the place, something had changed in Cullen’s demeanour. That morning he was warm and affectionate, and while he wasn’t being cold towards her per se, there was something… off. He held her hand but didn’t go to take her hand. She kept being the one to hold his. He hadn’t kissed her since before they arrived at The Hanged Man, and his smile seemed strained.

She put the change in him down to one of two things: a headache, which she could understand given the cold and the late night or, he and Cassandra spoke while they were alone, and there was a disagreement between them. Nevena didn’t want to pry. If it was a disagreement between Cullen and Cassandra, then it wasn’t her place to butt her nose in and ask questions, but she was worried. Given how much Cullen’s demeanour changed, it was clear that if it was a disagreement, it clearly weighed heavily on Cullen’s mind. And if it was a headache, then he was forcing himself to carry on with their outing, when he probably just wanted to go home and sleep.

Nevena caught up with him when they got inside the cathedral.

What was destroyed had mostly been rebuilt though in a more simplistic style. So much of the original Tevinter architecture had been lost, but there were certain aspects that remained intact. In some cases, parts that remained destroyed added a certain character to the place. A giant statue of Andraste covered in gold leaf now stood head-and-shoulderless, just two extended arms holding a bowl of eternal flame above the visitors. The aged wooden pews had been exchanged for chairs, and many of the tiles in the flooring had been left cracked and broken.

The vast inside of the cathedral was dimmed and lit with electric wall sconces all around the edge of the main chamber, and up the stairs to the galleries. There were already at least a hundred people who had come to visit the exhibition of local artists and their works. Strangely, there was a small choir of young men and women near the half-destroyed statue, singing softly giving the whole building an eerie ambience. Some benches had been provided for people to sit on while they took time to fully absorb the works of art available to them for viewing. The pieces themselves were eclectic to say the least. Paintings the size of windows, sculptures, glass hangings, some modern pieces displayed hanging from the rafters were drawing a lot of attention. Nevena realised, rather sheepishly, she had never really been in an art gallery, except when she was on school trips.

“There’s no set place to start,” Cassandra informed her and Cullen, quickly skimming a free leaflet that contained blurbs about the pieces on display and the artists. “But there is going to be a talk in about fifteen minutes from the curator. While there’s no starting point, all the pieces chosen have a secret theme in common which she’s going to talk about!” There was little hiding Cassandra’s excitement, and she hurried to one side of the main thoroughfare with Varric.

Nevena walked to the opposite side of the cathedral where Cullen was already staring at a large landscape picture. At least, it looked like a single image from afar, on closer inspection Nevena realised it was hundreds upon thousands of pictures all carefully put together to create one massive image of what she could only assume was Kirkwall from a great elevated distance.

“It’s what Kirkwall looked like before…” Cullen said, “the photos used are all from when...” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “From the attack, and the aftermath.”

“Is it hard for you to be here?” Nevena asked, shifting closer as a plump woman jostled forward to get a better look. Nevena bumped into Cullen’s side. He appeared to move an arm to wrap around her, but stopped mid-gesture, and instead lifted his hand to rub the scar on his lip. Nevena’s concern grew.

“Funnily enough, no.” Cullen smiled grimly. “Despite what happened here, being trapped, Kirkwall… I have no issue being here, walking around. Not like when we were in Kinloch.”

“Hm,” Nevena rocked back and forth on her heels. “Feels like it was weeks ago we were there.”

“This whole experience feels like it’s been going on for months.” Sighed Cullen. A moment later, it was like his brain caught up with the words and he stumbled, “I-I mean—that is, I don’t mean it’s felt like months because it’s been a bad experience. It’s just that—"

“Cullen,” Nevena gently squeezed his arm, “it’s okay. I know what you mean.” She smiled up at him, and for the first time in what felt like hours, he smiled back and the lines of worry that creased his brow all afternoon lifted.

“Sorry, I’ve not been very good company today, have I?”

“Do you have a headache?”

“No,” Cullen pushed a hand back through his hair and breathed out in a rush. “Over-thinking.”

“Isn’t that my job?” teased Nevena.

“I have my moments of it, too.” The plump woman next to Nevena pushed in front of her and Cullen to get a better look at the smaller photographs. Cullen took Nevena’s hand – a sensation of relief washed over her when he did – and he led her a small distance down the cathedral to a tall sculpture of a couple embracing that was tucked away in what must have been a vestibule once. The sculpture itself was carved from some kind of white stone, and illuminated by the flame sconces on the wall, causing intricate shadows to appear on the faces of the figures, giving them expressions that seemed to move with the light.

“May I ask you a question?”

“So formal.” Nevena tried to keep the atmosphere light, but Cullen was clearly agitated, shifting his weight from side-to-side. She sobered, led him to a small two-seater bench, and sat. He joined her, keeping a small distance between them. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” Nevena was starting to notice that Cullen had a habit of simply blurting out questions that were causing him anxiety. It was sort of sweet, in an awkward kind of way. His question did take her by surprise, and it took a moment for Nevena to gather her wits.

“Do you?”

“I…” Cullen huffed, “actually, maybe… yes?” He scrunched his eyes closed. “I just, I want to make sure we’re both on the same page. I don’t… I don’t normally go this fast, with anyone. Ever. I’m… in the past, it’s been weeks of texts and phone calls, and coffee before I’ve even gone on an actual date with someone, let alone kissed them or done half the stuff we have.”

Nevena tried to keep the smile on her lips, but felt it falter as he spoke. A sickening feeling settled in her stomach that he was going to change his mind from everything he said in Redcliffe, and on the boat, he was going to change his mind from everything he said in Kinloch.

“Okay,” Nevena managed to say after finding her voice. “Well, we might be going a bit faster than is… traditional, but as long as we’re both happy with where we are, then that’s okay, right?”

“Well, that leads me to my next question.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Are you?”

“Am I… what?”

“Happy? W-with where we are, I mean? Are we on the same page?”

“I was given to understand we were,” Nevena squinted at him, “unless something has changed in the last couple of hours.”

“No. No.” Cullen closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “At least, I don’t think so?”

Nevena shifted closer to him. “Darling, talk to me.” She took his hands in hers. “Come on, we can’t figure this out unless we talk. And I’m meant to be the one with the communication issues, here.” Another attempt to make light and Cullen did manage to chuckle.

“Forgive me if this…” He stopped and sighed. “I have this horrible feeling that I… perhaps put words in your mouth. On the boat from Gwaren to Kirkwall.”

Nevena quirked a brow. “In what way?”

“When… after dinner, when we were talking, and you were trying to tell me something, I… I think I said what I thought you were trying to say, without really letting you say what you were trying to say— uh, does that make sense? Perhaps I was over-eager, or… or something, but it occurred to me that what I thought you were trying to say and what you were actually trying to say might have been two completely different things.” He spoke quickly, words tumbling out like a faucet on full blast. “And then I started thinking that everything we’d done since then had been because you felt you had to, and not because you wanted to, because you were worried I’d be angry, because I had presumed, rather than listened. So, I—"

“Hold on, hold on.” Nevena lifted a hand and gently placed her hand over Cullen’s mouth. “Are you worried that since the boat, everything we’ve done has been because I felt trapped into a corner?” She removed her hand.

“Yes,” Cullen said, after a moment. Then he added, hurriedly, “I don’t want to be another Rick in your life. Making you do things you don’t want to because you’re afraid of the consequences of saying no to me. I want you to be comfortable with me, enough that you can say no if something we’re doing, or something I’m doing isn’t…”

Nevena barely kept her laughter contained as she leaned forward and kissed him, cupping his face in her hands. Cullen stayed still apparently shocked by her act of affection until he returned the kiss, smiling against her lips.

“You could not be more different from Rick even if you tried.” Nevena assured him as she pulled away and brushed her nose against his. “Cullen, darling, you’re the utter antithesis to him. Everything we’ve done has been because I’ve wanted to. Because we’ve wanted to. From Redcliffe, to last night, we were both willing participants.” Nevena kissed him again before pulling away completely so they could look at each other better. “You didn’t put words in my mouth on the boat, you helped me say what I wanted to say. Even before that, you have respected my boundaries and stopped doing anything the moment I’ve said something, so…” Nevena cradled Cullen’s face in one hand and ran her thumb beneath his eye, “don’t worry, okay?”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “Okay.”

“And, if we are going fast, then we can always put on the brakes if you want to. You keep talking about how you want me to be comfortable, well – this has to go both ways. I want you to be happy and comfortable, too.”

“I am.” Cullen said quickly, grabbing the attention of a passer-by who happened to glance into the alcove. “I mean, I am – happy, that is – with where we are.”

“Me too.” Nevena leaned in. Cullen met her half way pressing his forehead to hers. “I think I’ll be happier in Denerim though. Kirkwall is great, but there’s a part of me really hankering for home.”

“Same.” Cullen chuckled. He kissed her forehead and then exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry if this came out of nowhere. I suppose I need to work on my communication skills, too.”

Nevena shrugged, “we’ll get there when we get there. At least we’re talking about things.”

“True.”

“Do you mind if I ask what set this off?”

“Cassandra.” Cullen groaned, “she wasn’t being malicious. Just concerned. I can understand that. To an outside perspective I suppose it does seem like we’re going a million miles an hour.”

“Mhmm…” Nevena mumbled. She sat back a little. “Do you think if we slept in our own rooms it might give her peace of mind? I don’t want to cause friction between you and her. Or you and anyone.”

Cullen sighed again. “Maybe? I don’t know… We’ll see how we feel tonight.”

“Okay.”

There was a clapping sound from inside the main foyer of the chantry and a voice that Nevena could vaguely make out was informing the visitors that the curator was running late and would be giving her talk in ten minutes. A sound of excited murmuring arose after the announcement, and feet hurrying to find seats.

Cullen stretched and reached into his back pocket. Nevena saw the screen on his phone was alight with notifications and he frowned at the screen. “Six missed calls…”

“Important?”

“Potentially.” He pursed his lips, “I’ll go and call back outside so I don’t disturb anyone in here.” He got to his feet and kissed the top of Nevena’s head. “Back in a minute. We’ll go and find Varric and Cassandra once I clear this.”

He left with a quick stride, heading towards the entrance and weaving his way through people. Nevena sat quietly on the bench, her back facing the other visitors to the exhibition. A weight lifted off her shoulders and she breathed a little easier now she and Cullen had talked and she knew what was bothering him. She supposed it was normal. After all, she questioned their relationship too, and this was definitely new and, in some cases, utterly uncharted territory for them. She never expected to find someone like Cullen through a suggestion from a friend. Didn’t expect a ploy to pull the wool over her family’s eyes would result in finding someone so life changing – but she had.

Fate, sometimes, had a strange way of working.

Nevena looked up at the faces of the statues in front of her. The flames from the wall sconces created delicate expressions and images in the facets of the sculpture. As though each divot in the stonework was created with exact purpose and reason. As she watched the flames on the stone, she saw the expressions turn from happy and joyful, to laughing, sadness, anger, confusion. A whole plethora of expressions passing every second. Almost a true reflection of reality.

Two hands landed on Nevena’s shoulders and she barely concealed a surprised yelp. “That was fast,” Nevena said, smiling as she reached up to brush her fingers over the back of Cullen’s hand. “Ready to go listen to this talk?” She went to get up, but the hands on her shoulders pushed down keeping her in place. Cullen’s hands slid forward, fingers gently circling around her throat. Nevena swallowed hard, her heart beginning to race. Just Cullen playing a joke. “Cullen, I don’t want to miss the talk.”

“It’s been a while, Nene.”

Nevena froze.

She recognised the voice behind her and it didn’t belong to Cullen.

I hate cliff-hangers, don't you?

Who could the mysterious voice be? FIND OUT NEXT TIME. Sorry, I'm in a weird mood. So, how did you find this chapter? Do you think Cassandra is right to be worried and to question whether Cullen and Nevena's relationship is going too fast? Was it nice to see a bit of role reversal? To see Nevena offering comfort and reassurance to Cullen? To know that he sometimes has these worries and concerns that things aren't quite right? How about that bit of insight into Cullen and how little he really thinks of himself? Comparing himself to Rick... That's pretty damn terribad, right?

Anyway, I'll leave you guys stewing in the cliffhanger. Hopefully there won't be a delay in the next chapter upload! Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think/thought/your theories and opinions in the comments/tag flails/reblogs! And I'll talk to y'all in the next chapter. <3