Chapter 17: Chapter 17: All Bets Are Off
Arriving back at Skyhold on schedule despite the quick detour, they were greeted by a very pleased Ambassador and Spymaster. Wasting no time after dismounting, the Inquisitor and her three advisors met briefly in the War Room to discuss their successes in Crestwood and developments coming out of Orlais. Their efforts, more notably the slaying of the dragon, had secured an invitation to the Winter Palace for the peace talks. Since word arrived, the two women had begun preparations to make the most of the time they had. Aside from the ball itself, they needed to discuss the infiltration of the palace and the plan to find the assassin.
"The three of us will remain in the ballroom," Josephine declared, her gaze sweeping over the assembled advisors. "Rest assured, with our collective acumen, not a single detail will escape our notice."
"While I trust you all, you're going to need more help. There will be hundreds of people there all with those stupid masks and wearing the latest seasonal colors, making it difficult for anyone to stand out. I'd like Madame Vivienne stationed in there as well, she knows the court and The Game. Bull too, the Ben-Hassarath is a "people person," as he keeps reminding me, and has a different perspective on these things. I don't want anything in that Ballroom to happen without us noticing it. Cullen will focus his attention on the guards and security around the Empress. Any shifts or odd behavior from them may signal trouble. Myself, Cassandra, Dorian and Varric will roam the grounds searching for any signs of Venatori - between dances, of course," she looked to Josephine assuring her that she knew her own ambassadorial job as well. "What about getting our men inside?" She turned to Cullen who was studying a map of the palace on the war table. Despite what had happened between them, she was elated to find that the two could still work professionally. He was as duty-driven, if not more so, than she and with it came the understanding that the mission always came first.
"No one will question the men you bring in as your personal guard, but any additional support may be difficult to justify without rousing suspicion."
Leliana stepped forward standing with her hands behind her back, "My agents can help get your men in Commander, though it can only be a few at a time. You and I can discuss the logistics later."
"Understood."
As the delicate quill danced across the parchment, the Ambassador gracefully interjected her voice into the ongoing discussion, "I would like to remind the council that we find ourselves with a mere fortnight remaining to complete our preparations and bring our plans to fruition. Considering the gravity of our task, I propose that we adjourn our current session. And Inquisitor…", she paused, a faint smile playing upon her lips as Evelyn perked up at the sound of her name, "I have had a bath prepared." Evelyn's eyes widened with surprise as she eagerly expressed her appreciation. However, her gratitude soon transformed into suspicion as she detected an underlying motive behind the thoughtful gesture. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place as the woman revealed her true intentions. "Your impeccable appearance is of utmost importance. In precisely two hours, you have a dress fitting scheduled, and it is imperative that you appear spotless and exude an enchanting aroma." The Inquisitor brought a finger up in protest, but Josephine raised her voice over her, "You were the one who insisted upon changing the material, so yes, you need a refitting." She had hoped to catch up with Ilara and then find an excuse to see Cullen since they just returned home. With a sigh of defeat, she simply consented, glad that at least she would have some time to herself.
When the group began to disperse, the Inquisitor adeptly masked her eagerness to join Cullen, feigning a struggle with the disarrayed pile of reports that had been handed to her for review during her absence. She appeared engrossed in the task, giving the ladies ample time to walk ahead, while Cullen lingered behind. As soon as the women were out of earshot, the stack of papers miraculously transformed from chaos to order, and Evelyn seamlessly fell into step beside the Commander. Looking up at Cullen, she beamed a radiant smile, and in response, he playfully nudged her with his elbow. In that fleeting moment, the weight of her duties and responsibilities dissipated, allowing her to savor the simple pleasure of being together. However, their delightful companionship had to come to an end as they reached the entrance of the Great Hall. With a tinge of regret, she prepared to part ways.
Uncertain of their next encounter and lacking concrete plans, Evelyn held onto the belief that some task would once again bring them together. They had always managed to find a reason, an opportunity, to cross paths, and she trusted that the future would unfold in a similar fashion. For now, though, the lure of the beckoning bath reminded her of the need to unwind after a long day.
Ascending the staircase, Evelyn stepped into her room and was immediately enveloped in a sensory symphony. The air was thick with a medley of delightful aromas, each vying for her attention. The first scent to reach her was the mouthwatering fragrance of the meticulously prepared food that awaited her arrival. The warm, comforting aroma of freshly baked bread slathered with herb butter, accompanied by the enticing notes of roasted garlic spread and an assortment of olives, wafted from the beautifully arranged platter resting on the table in her sitting area. Next to the delectable spread, a bottle of crisp white wine stood, patiently decanting, ready to enhance the flavors of the meal. Two empty glasses sat nearby, promising a few hours of indulgence and relaxation before being thrust back into work. A nicely wrapped box sat unopened on the table as well with gold paper and a note tied to it. The room was empty, but as she approached the low table across the from fireplace, she saw some of the food had been picked at - no doubt the culprit would return soon.
Snatching the note off the box, she laughed to herself at seeing Josie's neat handwriting. After each mission, she had come home to find a box with a similar note of congratulations. It was turning into something of a joke for Josie and Leliana to send to Val Royeau for one of their tiny cakes, though they deliberately never told her the flavor each more outlandish than the next. From cardamom with honey buttercream icing to pineapple cake and coconut guava icing, Evelyn knew they sent for the newest and latest tastes. Carefully opening the box, she found a light pink iced cake - the same color which her dress for the peace talks was supposed to have been until she had them change it at the last second. She shut the lid quickly wondering if it was some form of revenge on her for the trouble she caused with the dress alterations or if it was a coincidence - she never believed in coincidences.
The squeak of the metal from her door opening provided a perfect excuse to delay her from deciding about the cake. Looking to the side, the always amiable-looking Ilara hurried up the stairs, "Oh! There you are, I've been looking for you."
"Sorry, I had a meeting in the War Room to attend. The fun never ends in Skyhold." She took a piece of bread and spread some of the roasted garlic on it. As she placed it in her mouth, she stopped suddenly pulling it back. The thought that there was a chance she'd see Cullen later and may kiss him with garlic breath made her rethink her choice. Ilara had begun to pour them both wine when she noticed her friend staring hard at the piece of bread.
"Something the matter with it?"
"No, not with it there isn't," she thought about the way Cullen had made fun of her eating habits and sighed longingly at the piece smothered in soft roasted cloves of garlic. Making a rash decision, she popped it into her mouth savoring the warming tones. Glancing back to her friend, she realized her behavior was rather odd - even for her. She stretched her head to the side ruffling her hair wondering where to begin when a sharp high-pitched gasp all but made her jump out of her skin. "Maker, Ilara what the--"
"What are those?!" Once again, it was the marks left on her neck that gave her secret away - she was going to have to talk to him about that. She had been careful to cover it with her hair or clothing, but she had let down her guard in the privacy of her own quarters. "Are they--"
"Yes, they are," she said flatly as a thousand questions began bubbling to Ilara's pretty lips, but she pressed a finger to them halting them from spilling forth. "I will tell you everything while I bathe and before you ask, it was Cullen."
"CULLEN?!" Evelyn swore she heard the glass on the windows groan wanting to break at the exuberance in which Ilara screeched his name. She was half expecting him to burst through the door, sword in hand having heard his name screamed from the top of the Keep. After catching her breath and receiving one of Evelyn's pointed looks, she continued at a normal volume and pitch, "I didn't realize he was so…" She waved her hand about searching for the words.
"I know what people think of him, but that's not how I know him to be," Evelyn whispered softly, her voice tinged with a mix of conviction and tenderness. The depths of her heart swelled with overwhelming emotion as she recalled the profound revelation he had shared with her in South Reach. It was a secret he had guarded so fiercely, an intimate confession that he had entrusted to her alone. The weight of that trust was something she held sacred and vowed never to betray. The memory of his vulnerability, the raw pain and regret etched into his words that night, twisted her insides with a profound ache. She couldn't fathom the burden he had carried in silence for over a decade, never uttering a single word of his torment to anyone else. The weight of such struggles was a familiar companion to Evelyn, but it was through their connection, his reaching out to her back in Haven, that she had found solace and the strength to confront her own trauma.
Yet, she couldn't help but question if, on that night he had extended his offer to talk, he was not only reaching out for her benefit but also for his own. Did he seek solace and understanding as much as she did? The possibility tore at her, the realization that their shared journey of healing might have been a path forged not only for her but for him as well.
The overwhelming urge to embrace him, to run into his arms, surged through Evelyn with an intensity she couldn't ignore. It startled her, the sheer power of her affection for him, growing relentlessly and pushing her to the precipice of a profound and all-encompassing emotion—love. However, she stubbornly resisted the notion, convincing herself that it was too soon, too early for such feelings to blossom fully.
In her mind, they were friends, incredibly close like the cherished companions she had known from her days in Ostwick, even though her relationship with Cullen hadn't spanned as many years as those bonds. Yet, their connection surpassed the boundaries of time, forged in the crucible of shared hardships and the revelation of their deepest fears and darkest secrets. They had bared their souls to each other, finding solace and understanding in a way that went beyond mere friendship.
And now, with the physical manifestations of their feelings, their connection had grown even stronger. Cullen had become a pillar of support and intimacy, someone who understood her in ways that even Ilara and Sorin, her closest companions, could not.
She mused on that thought as she undressed and slipped into the bath. Stirring her finger on the surface, she heated the lukewarm water until it steamed. Breaking the surface, she slid down the copper tub until she had submerged herself. Ilara had moved the wine and food over beside the bath along with a chair and Evelyn regaled her about the night spent at the Rutherford farmstead. She listened swooning along at her words as Evelyn revisited the night that would be forever burned into her head.
"I'll never look at the two of you together the same again."
"Lar, this has to remain between us - well and Cassandra, she saw the marks too. You must know the trouble that would erupt across Thedas if people found out."
She shook her head in understanding, "I know, I know. I won't even say a word to Byron."
"Good, now open that box and let's try this cake." After three glasses of wine, she was feeling more adventurous about the little pink dessert. Ilara cut herself a piece but the Inquisitor opted to just stick it with a fork from out of the box. She paused before stuffing it into her mouth, instead watching Ilara's reaction to it. When she gushed at how delicious it was, Evelyn finally popped her forkful into her mouth dropping some crumbs into her bath. Champagne with strawberry icing; she would be thanking her two advisors in the morning though it'd mostly be for not seeking revenge on her.
***
The following day unfolded in relative tranquility as Evelyn dedicated herself to catching up on the deluge of correspondence that had accumulated during her absence in Crestwood. Seated at her desk, she absentmindedly picked at the plate of lunch that had been sent up to her, her thoughts consumed by the tasks at hand. A steaming cup of tea graced her desk, its fragrant vapors wafting through the air, a delightful blend of herbs and the tang of lemon. Evelyn savored the earthy notes of the infusion, reveling in the natural flavors of the herbs and spices. She had always preferred her tea unsweetened, without the addition of honey or sugar, appreciating the robust taste that allowed the delicate nuances to shine through. This particular blend, infused with elderflower, carried a subtle fragrance that evoked memories of the Commander.
She couldn't help but imagine him, in that moment, struggling with the meticulous fittings of his dress uniform, orchestrated by Josephine's staff. The image brought a smile to her lips, a mixture of amusement and affection. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would be ruffling his hair in frustration, an endearing habit she had come to associate with his moments of exasperation.
"Are you going to eat your pickle?" Owayne had been distracting her from work and lunch for some time now. She gave him an annoyed look to help himself and he happily poached it from her plate. Absconding with her wine and glass as well, he poured himself some as he made his way back to the couch across from the fire. "Mother wrote again, she's threatening to choose a suitor for you if you don't choose from the options she's given you."
"Ha," she scoffed, "what right or power does that woman have in the matter anymore?" She rolled her eyes at her mother's brazen disregard for actual concerns, like the fact that her own daughter's life was being threatened by an ancient Magister aspiring to godhood. Or the fact that the mark on her hand was growing. The thought sobered her temper as she gazed upon it. She had taken to keeping a mental note of its growth and anything she does with it that seems to help it tear further. Ilara and Solas were keeping an eye on it, but so long as it didn't hurt her they didn't ask her anything more about it. It was wrong not to tell anyone, but everyone would just worry and start their fussing - especially Cullen now. It felt more wrong not to tell him, but she knew what he'd say, which would be to see Solas about it. She laughed to herself thinking what a pair they made - two disasters that were seemingly made for each other. On one side, you had him trying to purge his body of magic and lyrium and on the other, she who was taking on more magical energy than any living person had a right to. "I have bigger problems than mother thinking she has any say in my life anymore. I'm sure she has all but chewed father's ear off about it and he's sick of hearing it as well. Just like how I'm tired of hearing Cassandra complain about you!"
"Hey, I'm doing rather well," he paused to finish his bite with an obnoxious crunch, "we held hands today."
"You did-- What?!"
"We held hands," he looked over at her with one of those grins that told her all was not as it seemed. "She threw a punch at me and I caught it. She let me hold it for a few moments before I directed her attention to it."
"Oh, Owayne. This is becoming quite pitiful."
"It still counts, and nobody will tell me otherwise!"
"I will because she nearly took my arm off sparing." Cullen's blond hair was just clearing the railing directing the siblings' attention to him. "Next time you do something like that warn me so I can wear my heavy armor." She laughed under her breath and bit her lip seeing him out of his usual attire. A light cotton maroon shirt flowed about his form though it stuck in places to the sweat he just worked up out in the training yard. Only his shield arm was armored holding tight to him by two leather straps across his body. His hair was slightly disheveled no doubt from avoiding the Seeker's rage-fueled attacks. As her eyes moved down his body they caught sight of a crinkled paper in his hand.
Evelyn sat back in her plush chair and crossed her arms, "It seems all of Skyhold will be forced to suffer until you either romance the woman properly or give up in utter failure. Care to make a wager, Commander?"
"Varric already beat you to it."
Owayne hopped up watching as Cullen walked behind him and over to her desk. "And? Who does your coin favor in this contest?"
"My coin is on you, Owayne. I'd be foolish to bet against a Trevelyan. I've already learned that the hard way," he looked to his sister who couldn't help but smile brightly up at him. Owayne failed to notice the two of them looking fondly at each other as he celebrated by downing his glass of wine. After he finished, he strode over to Cullen and grabbed him by the shoulders grinning from ear to ear, patting him with a 'good man.' "Plus, if you do win I'll be swimming in coin from all those betting against you."
"What?" Owayne's grin faltered slightly before a familial resolve rose up, "I've beaten worse odds!" Gathering his coat with a renewed sense of purpose, he made a quick escape out of the room calling after him that he had a dwarf to find. The Inquisitor sat there rubbing her forehead in wonder. She looked up at Cullen who was still chuckling after Owayne. Reaching for his hand to hold, he turned his attention back on her giving the hand a squeeze.
"I thought you had a uniform fitting? What were you doing sparring?"
"I did until the Seeker barged in and scared off Josephine's people."
"Mmhmm, and I'm sure you didn't mind that one bit. Josie will be pissed."
He walked over to the balcony doors next to the fireplace opening them, commenting on how warm it was in the room. She liked it warm, and also had not been sparring with a madwoman recently, but knew others didn't share her love of the heat. He sighed in relief when the cool air hit his back, but it quickly turned to annoyance, "They already have my measurements and the uniform made, I don't see why they need to bother me further about it." She just shook her head at him with a wan smile before gesturing to the missive in his other hand. "Ah, our scouts report that Red Templar activity is picking up in the Emerald Graves. A man by the name of Fairbanks sent word to the Inquisition about the Freemen of the Dales possibly colluding with them. The agents we had investigating confirmed his suspicion, and found that red lyrium is being smuggled through the area. While the source is still unknown, we have an opportunity to cripple their supply lines."
"Let's bring that to discuss in the War Room tomorrow, I'd like to hear everyone's thoughts on stopping it and finding the source. If we can somehow do both, that would be ideal." Cullen seemed to be only partly listening to her, having been distracted by something outside. "Is there something more interesting than me out there?"
"Do you hear that?" She listened quietly, but all she heard was rams bleeding from somewhere below along with a thumping sound. She shrugged at him and he turned heading out onto the balcony. Walking over to the edge, he peered over the railing, "Are those rams?"
With arms crossed from the chill, she followed him out standing in the doorway. "Cullen, we are in the mountains where they typically live," her tone was very matter-of-fact verging on sarcasm.
"Come here and look."
"I'm perfectly fine here. I've seen plenty of rams."
"Come on, it looks like they're jumping... or something." He leaned further down on the railing, rising to his toes.
"Cullen, if you fall I will tell everyone in your eulogy that the mighty Commander of the Inquisition fell off a balcony while trying to watch a bunch of rams frolicking!" Her voice had gone up an octave sounding near frantic. He stretched out an arm for her to join him, but after a few moments of silence, he stood back up glancing to her. She was still standing in the open doorway now chewing her lip with interest.
"Wait, you aren't... are you afraid of heights?"
"N-no, t-that's ridiculous! I'm not!"
A low soft rumble began to sound in his chest. "You're afraid of heights!"
She huffed at him as he laughed, not unlike the time he found out that she and Cassandra read romance literature in their free time. "Why is it so funny?!"
"Because you quite literally have the highest room in all of Skyhold - which sits atop a mountain!" She was not amused, though admittingly it was laughable. Slowly her frown slid into an indifferent smirk and he abandoned the rams to placate her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before wrapping her up in his strong arms. The smell of elderflower mixed with the mountain air as she nuzzled closer to him. She enjoyed him being out of his heavy armor, as she was able to feel more of him. Feeling him without the weight of his armor reminded her of his episode in Crestwood, having wished he wasn't wearing his armor at the time.
"Cullen," she looked up at him, "I meant to ask you how you were feeling since Caer Bronch? You scared me that night." He held her even tighter.
"I'm sorry, I had pushed myself too hard between taking the fort and getting it operational. I knew we were on a tight schedule and I took on too much myself when I should've delegated it. We have excellent people, I should have let them take part of the workload."
She smiled, knowing full well herself to be guilty of that, "It's not a bad thing, you just need to know your limits. You're right though, we do have capable people under us to help support the burden. Maybe it's time we both let go of a few things and let others help us for once." He promptly agreed ushering her inside to the fire. Warming herself as he closed the door, she watched him take stock of the room. "Has it ever been that bad?"
He answered while rearranging her furniture, "No, and I pray it doesn't get that bad again. All the symptoms seem to have hit me at once. I've actually spoken to Dorian about it," she quirked an eyebrow at him in surprise, "I find it not only comforting to have another man to confide in but one who has such a different way of looking at the problem. Having no Templars in Tevinter, it's like having a fresh pair of eyes to view a problem that everyone else has been living with for years. For all I know there is a simple answer to treating the symptoms that the rest of us have gone blind to." She felt such admiration for him at that moment. He had opened up to more and more people about his struggle since she had first figured it out. She continued to watch him move about chairs and a side table about when the eerie green glow leaked out from under her hand. Her face dropped as the guilt resurfaced about not following his lead in getting help.
"I'm proud of you, you're doing the right thing, and now so must I." He stood, stopping his current task to look worriedly at her. "The mark is growing," she dropped her gaze to the floor, "it doesn't necessarily hurt as before but it is slowly growing, I fear, with each use."
A few large fast steps brought him before her, "Have you told Solas?" She couldn't help but smile slightly having validation that she knew that was what he'd say.
"No, but I will today after our match," she motioned to the board which sat on the table.
"No, you'll go now. Chess can wait."
"I will afterward, please I'd really just like to get my mind off of it. Besides, I'm not sure if I'll have time to see you later. Just give me one game, please?"
"One game, then straight to Solas."
"Yes, Commander."
***
"Now that Chief Morvran is on his way to Tevinter and the mountain goats around Skyhold are safe from being bludgeoned against its walls," she directed an amused look to Cullen, who chuckled silently, "can I get an update on what our scouts have found in the Western Approach?" Today in the War Room, they were joined by Warden Stroud and the Champion of Kirkwall who had quietly made their way to Skyhold.
"My agents have confirmed that Venatori and Wardens have been gathering at an ancient Tevinter ritual site, though for what we still don't know." Leliana passed the sparse report across the table to her.
"Ritual site? That doesn't sound good." She sighed in frustration, "I would really like to head out there myself, but there's no time with the peace talks in a week."
"Stroud and I could go, Inquisitor," Hawke crossed his tattooed arms observing the map before him. "I'm sure between the two of us if there's trouble to be had we can handle it."
She stole a quick glance to Cullen who nodded his head, both remembering their vow to delegate more. "Of that, I have no doubt, but take Owayne, Solas and Sorin with you just in case."
"The more the merrier," he smirked wrinkling up the red swipe across the bridge of his nose. "Though I'm not sure how well the five of us will do against that fort."
"Ser Hawthorne can take a contingent of men to take the Griffin Wing Fort. A force that large will not go unnoticed." He addressed Hawke, to whom she knew the two to be on familiar terms with each other, "They could be just the distraction you need to delay whatever is happening out at that ritual site or aid in its observation. Either way, I'm confident that fort will be under our control in a few days."
"Good, make it so." With the Western Approach business settled, Stroud and Hawke left to prepare for their mission. The Commander then went on to brief everyone on the developments in the Emerald Graves and the red lyrium smuggling. Intrigued, Leliana asked for time to investigate to see what she could uncover regarding a source before they took any further action. She knew Cullen would be a bit disheartened to not be going after the Red Templars immediately, but destroying the source was more important. "Now, to the headache at the Winter Palace."
"May I ask, before we continue, with so many of the Inquisition's leadership deployed who will be left in charge of Skyhold?" The Ambassador glanced up from her diligent note taking, no doubt trying to sort through who was left.
"Knight-Captain Rylen will take command in my stead. Hence Ser Hawthorne leading the men in the Western Approach and not him."
"Yes, and Enchanter Ilara could help him with the domestic running of the Keep. I think the pair will make an excellent team," the Inquisitor added.
"Very good," Josephine dotted something on her board with a flourish, "now, as for preparations for the ball, everyone has been fitted for their uniforms and dresses. Cassandra has refused to wear a dress but did agree to wear the men's uniform. I have had the dressmakers change the color of your dress, Inquisitor, to match the rest of your companions, although," Evelyn readied an eye roll for the enviable drama of the dressmakers, "she all but wept at having to put you in a color that was not in season."
"I don't care how much she cried, I am not going to wear a blush-colored dress when fighting Venatori! Or would you rather have me waltzing about the ballroom covered in stains of everything from dirt to blood?"
"Do you anticipate fighting in the palace?!"
"I'm just trying to go as prepared as I can be. It's hard to plan on anything when you know nothing except for there will be an assassination attempt."
Leliana swayed placing a hand on the table, "An attempt made in the middle of a ball is quite a statement. Most likely they will do so in front of a crowd. It's suicide, but the Venatori are so deluded by visions of grandeur I don't believe death for the cause is a great concern for them." She sighed, "I'm sure you saw the latest report I sent you. We should be more concerned that the fighting around the palace between Celene, Gaspard and Brialla will provide cover for the Venatori's infiltration."
The Commander pinched the bridge of his nose, "Add in our own forces and no one will bloody know who's fighting who. If that's the case, our forces should be reactionary. Out of sight, but close by for when we need them."
Leliana nodded, "I agree, let the three of them fight amongst themselves, we need not interfere until necessary."
"Sounds like a solid plan. We have a week until the peace talks now, so I'd like updates as they come in," there was a collective affirmation from the advisors. "Any last tasks from you Ambassador?"
"Only that I still need everyone to agree on when I can review Orlesian court etiquette with those you've chosen to attend the ball. Everyone, including yourself, keeps making excuses," her tone dropped and she narrowed her eyes at her.
She raised her marked hand to her forehead bathing it in its green glow, "Alright, tomorrow evening after dinner for drinks and dessert in one of the salons you've just decorated. No one will say no to free booze and tiny cakes if you offer them - which reminds me, the one you left for me was to die for!" A look of smug haughtiness passed between the two as if she would dare to expect less than the best from them. "I will personally make sure everyone attends, ahem Commander," directing a look to Cullen who was already grumbling to the Maker with a grimace on his face, "otherwise they'll find Skyhold rather drafty when I burn the pants off them."
Josephine smiled elegantly, "Thank you, Inquisitor." With all parties pacified for the time being, she dismissed them, though not before the Ambassador called after her about a diplomatic trade meeting she had scheduled coming up in a few hours. Knowing this already, she was already planning to retire to her quarters early for the afternoon to prepare.
About an hour after their meeting, Cullen headed for the Inquisitor's quarters. Jogging up the winding staircase, her lady's maid was coming down and he inquired after Evelyn. After being assured she was able to receive company, he gave a knock on her door and pushed in.
"Inquisitor, if you have a moment, I..." Cullen's voice trailed off as his gaze fell upon the woman seated next to a small crackling fire, engrossed in her book. The flickering flames cast a warm, enchanting glow that danced upon her hair, just as it had in the heat of battle. There was an undeniable allure in the way fire seemed to be in harmony with her presence, from the intensity that blazed within her eyes to the strength with which she commanded it. Unable to resist the magnetic pull she exerted on him, Cullen's words transformed into a heartfelt compliment that escaped his lips effortlessly. "You look beautiful." His admiration hung in the air, a testament to the captivating aura that surrounded her.
Startled by his interruption, she lifted her gaze from the pages of her book, her hair fixed neatly up in a thick coiled braid caught in the fire's gentle glow. A smile graced her lips upon locking eyes with him, and with a fluid motion, she closed her book, delicately placing it on the arm of the chair. Her unwavering gaze remained fixed on him, "Flattery will get you everywhere, Rutherford." A shiver ran down his spine as she looked at him with that insatiable hunger that had come to live there whenever she looked at him. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the feeling of being desired and wanted by her. For all that she was, he knew the real Evelyn. It was safe to say that they knew almost everything about each other, at least about the things that mattered. He knew that while she preferred armor, dresses were agreeable enough to her when the occasion called for it. In a sense, it was a different type of armor, one that protected against words rather than weapons. While the dress that now adorned her was modest and professional, it still exhibited her attractive physique - a weapon in its own right, which paired with her intelligence made her just as formidable as on the battlefield. Its olive-green velveteen texture added a softness to her toned form, begging it to be touched - though only by him.
"It's new and comfortable enough. Most of all it appeases Josie for when I need to meet with our guests." Standing now entirely too close to him, she purred, "What can I do for you, Commander?" He held up the papers in his hand and her eyes darted to the side to glance at them. "And here I thought you were here for something more fun."
"Well, if you'd make up your mind on how you'd like me to proceed with the situation in Hasmal's Circle, perhaps there would be time enough for fun."
She laughed, "Quite the incentive! But you're right, I let it go too long hoping the city would sort it out peacefully. I know our Templars are running ragged trying to help the Circles and their brothers and sisters of the Order. Is there anyone left to send?"
"The Ostwick Templars, they're all we've got left not on assignment." She sighed, he knew she was worried to send them away from Skyhold leaving only a handful of less experienced Templars to remain. Moreover, she trusted them inexplicably; In a world where people could be bought for any price, they relied on Henley and his men to keep their home safe.
"Fine, send them, but I want them back here as soon as their business is done."
"On your order, Inquisitor." He began to jog down the stairs when she called him back.
"Where are you going? I was promised fun."
"At least let me get this to someone so they can pass word on to Henley." She crossed her arms and eyed him the whole way down the staircase from the railing.
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