[ He'd as good as said "I dare you to check and see if I'm suffocating" and she'd been rather bad at resisting.
Skyhold isn't exactly a private place; it's a world all its own, isolated in many ways, and its inhabitants are awfully prone to gossip. Not all of them, mind, just... most. Cecily likes to think she's been fairly discrete in her budding relationship with the commander, save the flirting that sometimes happened during meetings that was seemingly unavoidable.
They try! Sometimes.
Following a knight of odd, drunken revelry (too few in number, Varric might, and does, say), the Inquisitor had lead Cullen to his chambers, apparently made up some kind of fortress out of his pillows, tucked the man into his own blankets and... collapsed on the way out, absconding with a pillow, herself. She'd woken up in confused embarrassment and slunk out quickly, but their conversation has her at his door, worrying at her lip, trying to practice her "seriously frustrated" faces. ]
Commander Cullen, I'm coming in, and if you aren't trapped in there, then so help me -
[ The Tower office is surprisingly empty for this hour of the morning, but then again a good portion of Skyhold had spent the evening celebrating their most recent victory. Those not on shift were no doubt still in their beds, or at the very least wishing they were.
There is, however, muffled sounds coming from Cullen's loft bedroom. Should she climb up to investigate, the only thing visible is a near mountain of pillows piled atop the bed.
Honestly, did she rob every bedroom in Skyhold last night? ]
[ She wants to send a raven, afraid her voice might betray the myriad of emotions that rush through her like torrents from a broken dam. Wants to, but is more terrified than she'll admit that the bird will be intercepted, that any message of this caliber that falls into the wrong hands will be the undoing of more than just herself. Cullen understands, doesn't try to convince her to send word the conventional way. Cullen is the only other one who knows at the moment; they've done a good enough job of secluding themselves in mid-Southern Ferelden, not far from the memorial that was Haven, where they'd first met.
They both say they won't stay there, but haven't yet found a reason to leave.
But when she has news too dire for ink and paper and there is someone who she is bursting at the seams to speak with. She debates it for too long, argues within her own mind until she's irritable, deflecting questions and concerns, leaving their home altogether to stalk through the forest at dusk because her feet are restless and her mind is a whirlwind.
Still. The crystal is clutched tight in her hand, a talisman even when it has no voice. Cecily makes a few quick resolutions, tries to work out what she's going to say (which isn't what she wants to say) before sitting at the base of a tree, elfroot curling around her side, and cupping the enchanted object in her hand. ]
[ Truthfully, he and Bull have a slightly awful wager, determining when the Inquisitor and her ridiculous husband will have children. Dorian's opted for years down the line, but Bull's certain for something sooner.
Neither of them touch the subject of their having children at some point. Besides it being biologically impossible, Dorian wouldn't subject their child to the horrors of the magisterium, not when Bull couldn't be with them more than every few months. Instead, he watches their friends. Josie met some lovely man in Antiva, but they have no plans to marry soon and he knows she won't have children earlier. Honestly, out of the rest of them, Cecily is most likely to be first but not for a time.
It doesn't matter much either way; they've other things to focus on, Bull with his missions and Dorian with attempted assassinations and political machinations. When Cecily calls, he's just getting out of a mind-numbing lunch with another family, talking over proposed terms. It goes better than he expects but not as well as he hopes. ]
Oh, please. Anything but that. I've just spent the last hour in the most mind-numbingly tedious meetings and I am going to lose my mind if you start with that nonsense.
At least if you happen to lose it, it's already numb.
[ The banter comes easily with Dorian despite the knots in her throat. She takes a long, deep breath, one she tries to keep silent, playing at keeping calmer than she feels. ]
Do you have some time to talk? There's something, er. Important that I'd like your advice for.
[ It's no surprise that she's asking for his help, not with how close they've grown since they met, but there is something hanging off of her words that's a touch different than usual. As if she's almost embarrassed to bring it up. Flustered, uneasy. More uncertain than perhaps she's ever been. ]
[ Maevaris is understanding about his need to leave; she assures him she can handle anything that might possibly go up while he takes a few weeks off. With the addition of the Eluvian, it's much easier, of course but he still needs to make the show as if he's traveling on foot.
They send a decoy, while Bull and his company arrive separately and then Dorian slips through the Eluvian. It's a much shorter trip, but despite everything, he nearly arrives too late.
They've the best healers and midwives available and Dorian spends a good portion of the time clutching Bull's hand while they stay outside the room, listening and able to do nothing. Cullen's in much the same state, pacing until both Dorian and Bull tell him to sit the hell down. They call Cullen in first, after assuring them there's nothing wrong. Dorian doesn't ask the sex of the baby just yet, instead waiting until it's their turn.
When it's done, Cullen's sitting by Cecily's bed, while she holds the child up against her. He balks in the door at first, Bull nearly running into him. ]
[ It isn't an easy birth. She can't even blame the anchor for any of the pain, what with it having been gone as long as it has and having nothing to do with the horrible things that are happening to her body. Though there are blessedly no actual complications, the entire process is a bloody mess that has her yelling obscenities, biting her nails into her palms, calling out for her husband and then sending him away again all in the same breath when he appears, flustered and unsure. They do have the best help there for her, and thank the Maker for that, because Cecily is a difficult patient.
Until she isn't. When the piercing sounds of her hellish torment die down, there are little wails of a newborn. She's relieved to see Cullen (somewhere in her painful haze she thought he'd left the building) and they touch foreheads briefly before he settles at her side. When they hand her the baby, new and too small and swaddled, she tucks him into the crook of her arm and keeps him close, unwilling to give him over to anyone just yet.
Dorian and Bull enter, or almost enter, and the comment draws a surprised, dry laugh. ]
Small? I hadn't noticed. Now, if you'd said "Maker, I can't believe how enormous he is, how could you possibly have achieved such a feat," then I would say, "yes, he's an absolute monster."
[ The Commander chuckles, half-rolling his eyes. She knows he's eager the baby again as it is technically also his, but she can't help but selfishly hold on for a few more moments to herself. Sweat glistens on her forehead, her hair is understandably disheveled, and the entire scene isn't unlike the aftermath of a battle, but there you have it. ]
[ Are they going to have him hold it? The idea was endearing at first but now he's just struck with this sort of anxiety about it, digging his teeth into his bottom lip while Bull stands behind him. There's a pause, and then big hands cup his hips, gently nudging him further in until they're closer and he gets a proper look at it.
There's no way to tell if it's a boy or a girl, but it doesn't much matter. The squalling thing is alive and healthy from what they've heard, and Cecily is doing well, too. That's all he can ask for. ]
Do they all look quite so...turnip-y?
[ Behind him, Bull poorly stifles a laugh and Dorian shoots him a look. He finally summons the balls to circle around to the other side, reaching out to smooth back the sweaty mess of her hair and press a kiss to her forehead. ]
Any child of yours and the Commander's is bound to be an absolute monster.
[ Justin is still a toddler when it happens. And they're still in a bright nook of Ferelden, close enough to Cullen's family, far enough from anyone else to keep wandering attentions from their child. Cecily isn't paranoid per se, but you can only see so many things fall apart before you start to think that anything remotely happy is bound to go the same way. Some nights, she ends up on the roof, the crossbow that had been made for her propped up against her knees. Cullen doesn't argue; he understands.
Today, the Commander is away. Dorian is there, however, having come down for one of the visits she cherishes so deeply. The sky is a stretch of azure, clouds dotting overhead and drifting lazily. She'd insisted they spend some time outside, having been feeling more than a little cabin fever lately, but it doesn't seem to disagree with any of them. Dorian has a book, naturally, and Justin moves around between them with the spirited ambling of a two year-old.
And the dog, of course, who is graying around his face. ]
-more books once we get to an actual city, because I've been through the dozen or so we have here, and it's absolutely making me mad. You remember how disappointed you were in Skyhold, though at least we had more than this.
[ She puffs out her cheeks, twining blades of grass between her fingers. The child totters by and she instinctively holds up a hand to brace against him as he bounces, laughing madly, into her arm and clings momentarily before trotting off again. ]
It - [ She seems as if she's going to rev up again along the same vein of conversation, but she freezes. She seems struck briefly dumb, eyes wide and drifting almost dramatically to the hand that Justin had plowed into; her fingers shine in the sunlight as she's coated down past the wrist in ice. ]
[ It's actually nice to be in the South. It's an odd thing to think, but he is truly happy on these visits - made easier still, when he can manage to use one of the Eluvians, despite the potential danger given that Solas still has control over the vast majority.
The air is cooler than he likes but he makes sure to bring more clothing this time around, bundling up. He hefts his robes up over his shoulders a touch more, rolling over onto his belly so he can keep reading his book between intermittent glances up watching Justin toddle about. ]
So we'll have Bull grab some at the next few cities he stops by. I think he's running escort for some noble or another and there's probably quite a few shops he could stop at.
[ Children are so bouncy. He's half-afraid every time Justin takes a spill that he's going to be genuinely hurt, but no, he bounces and rolls back up and giggles like nothing's happened. They're so strange, Maker.
He's lost back in his book again when he hears everything go quiet, even Cecily, and before he even thinks about it he reaches for his staff, rolling to his knees in a smooth movement just in time for her shout. A barrier is slung over all three of them, but a moment later he realizes there's nothing wrong-- or well, no one is attacking. Old habits, he supposes, and moves over to look at her hand with his eyebrows raised. ]
[ She wonders about Solas. Wonders if their old companion had heard of the birth (he must, she thinks, with all the power he possesses, and it's mildly terrifying. Cecily doesn't believe he'd harm their child, not in an age or longer, but some under his command might have different ideas. And there are always enough other enemies of the former-Inquisition to make use of a hostage.
Or who might still want revenge.
But that isn't on her mind at the moment. She shakes away at the fresh frost, eyes wide and mind working fast. ]
Andraste preserve us, as if things weren't complicated enough- [ Seized momentarily by fear, she rises swiftly to her feet and scoops up the ambling Justin, then relocates closer to Dorian and settles back down, scrutinizing his face. ]
Mama. [ He giggles, grabbing for her nose. Nothing magical happens, but she settles him into her lap after, staring hard at Dorian. ]
He could never be safe in a Circle, even if we- But-
[ She's never worried about demons or abominations or templars or anything else; she's never had to. All the mages (few and far between) in her company had been more than capable of handling themselves, had been paragons in their own ways. Never before has she felt a desire strike her hard and fast this way, like lighting, to protect someone with magical abilities. ]
[ It's years later that they manage to get a proper amount of time together. Between the Lucerni and everything else going on, Dorian manages to visit a few times, and vice versa, but it's often only for a few days.
When the child is nearly five, though, Dorian makes a special trip out there, half-surprise. Cullen knew about it, of course, but he was the only one. He's spent a solid two weeks with Bull before this, and Bull and his men are intending to come down a few weeks from now, but that's a ways away.
When Dorian arrives at their house, it's Cullen who greets him; it's still horrifically early and the sun has barely started to rise. Dorian dismounts and clasps arms with him, giving him a quick hug and a small, tired smile. There's plenty of time to catch a quick nap before everything, so he's led to the spare bedroom and gets as far as his boots being off before he collapses exhausted into bed and curls up.
It's a few hours later that he wakes to the sound of tiny footsteps and the shift of the bed. Dorian cracks an eye open blearily, and makes a noise that he hopes is at least somewhat pleased when he sees the child there, a huge gap-toothed grin on his face, clutching a stuffed animal. Cullen stands in the doorway a moment, lips curled in a soft smile, and then leaves them to it, no doubt to get Cecily up. Somehow, between their child deciding that a nap as soon as he gets up is a good idea, and the mabari discovering there's someone new, by the time Cecily is awake and up, Dorian's got the kid conked out on his knees, the mabari splayed on the other side, curled protectively around their child.
Somewhat despairingly, he stares at the two of them and eyes the door, wondering if it's possible to slip away and clean up or if he's trapped here until they wake. The decision ends up made for him, though; Cullen takes pity on him and brings Cecily over to the doorway, terribly amused as he leans in on one side. We have a visitor. Though, you might have to pry him away from them. ]
[ At first, she doesn't believe it's all real; Cullen tries to wake her and Cecily, half-in the throes of a dream and exhausted tossing, nearly sends her fist into his nose. It's a while yet before he rouses her enough to convince her that there's a perfectly harmless surprise, but it actually takes her eyes falling on the bare foot of the bed and empty cradle for her to really wake. ]
He- [ No, the child is fine, it's harmless, remember? And she can't quite believe him, since they're both here and their son isn't, but her follows Cullen out and into the hall with a tired acceptance (albeit a wary one), drawing a robe about herself.
Once they reach the doorway, she raises her hand to clutch at the front of her robes (out of a purely emotional reaction, nothing so base as modesty). ]
Maker, but you're absolutely a natural. [ She smiles brightly, speaking in hushed, but earnest tones. The hound lifts his head to see who's arrived, tongue lolling out in joyed response to his master's presence. Justin, however, is a decidedly unconscious pile on Dorian's lap. ]
Have I come to relieve you? He hasn't drooled, has he?
[ Dorian presses one hand to the mussed blonde curls on Justin's head, only to draw back as the mabari snuffles and goes for a lick. He furrows his brow, grimacing at the dog and then at the two less than helpful people standing and watching as if it's a sideshow. ]
I come to visit and you leave me to the wolves, as it were.
[ Dorian's voice is sleep-rough and soft, despite the fact that it's nearly lunch time. Traveling so far and long always takes it out of him; he feels a thousand times better after the nap, of course, but now he just wants a bath more than anything else in the world. ]
Who, the child or the dog?
[ Dorian grimaces as the mabari lets out a pleased whuff of air and wiggles up closer, butt wagging with the force of its tail trying to wag, eager for petting. Much as he likes both the mabari and the child, the child is far more preferable and the dog only gets a tentative pat on the head. ]
Both, tragically, but on your blankets, so I suppose it's not so bad.
[ They are in their small, Ferelden home, tucked away in the Hinterlands amidst the trees and the rivers and the rams. They'd built the place themselves (both had insisted, Cecily especially, undeterred by having one less limb than she'd had previously) and had settled in not long after their marriage, after the Exalted Council and the reshaping of the Inquisition. It isn't at all what it once was and that still makes her sad deep to the core in a way she rarely expresses; it's because Corypheus had been defeated that the organization needn't exist, after all, so she thinks it selfish to wish they might still do work. ... And there is work to be done, damn it, because there always is. The world is forever teetering on the brink and now especially, with Solas threatening to end the world as they know it in order to reinstate the one he'd hidden.
Some days, it makes her restless to the point that she leaves without word and stalks the woods, pacing along the bank, trying to get a hold of herself. There isn't anything to be done at present about their former companion; if Leliana can't locate the apostate and his growing following, then they have no chance of real action. The other members of the Inquisition had drifted to the corners of Thedas to do their own work, considering that they'd only been on loan, really, and there was still so much to be done. Cassandra, the Divine, restoring order to a messy world. Varric, overseeing Kirkwall with the Champion and their friends. All the others had equally large duties piled in front of them and she can hardly blame them for it. Some days, it's more the opposite, and she feels little pin-pricks of guilt knowing that Cullen might have been the one to really aid the affected templars, had things... been different.
And they are different. Very much so, and only blossoming more and more gradually into the kind of life she'd never thought she'd have.
They are in their small, Ferelden home. Well, more accurately, Cullen is, or... he'd been there when she'd left in what had become a routine to walk the local stretch of greenery. Today is different, today is Cecily Trevelyan, former Inquisitor, sitting at the base of one of the larger trees for a long time, heart pounding, before summoning her courage and returning to the house. She hovers in the doorway, a guilty, prodigal child, and then slips inside with a much meeker air about her than usual. ]
[ it's strange, being back in ferelden. this isn't a life cullen ever thought he would have. for almost as long as he can remember, being a knight and protecting the innocent has been what he was going to do with his life. it is still--just in a different way. it's a lot more correspondence and trying to plan things they don't really have enough information for. it's a little frustrating sometimes, in all honesty.
but right now, it's what's best. for him and for cecily. for the world, really. any chance they have of taking solas down eventually depends on them laying low until leliana gives them something they can truly act on. and their small home in the hinterlands gives cecily space to recover and relearn life without an arm. it's a good set-up. and yet cullen can't help but worry sometimes. the itch in her shoes, that restless need to do something more is something he sees an echo of in himself at times.
it's just--an adjustment. they'll get used to it eventually, or they'll find something to occupy themselves. it will just take time. this is what he tells himself as he washes their dishes and puts them away. what he tells himself when cecily leaves and stays away longer than usual.
he doesn't tell himself anything when he comes back worried. he just prays nothing's wrong as he dries his hands off and steps towards her. ]
[ there are some benefits to cecily not liking mornings. it lets cullen do a lot in the time between when he wakes and when she does. and, on mornings where he has little to do, it means he can take his time to enjoy the rays of dawn peeking through the windows. it means he can wake cecily up the way he most enjoys--by peppering soft kisses on her skin.
he starts with a feather-light touch of his lips behind her ear. then her shoulder. the base of her neck. his hands skim up the side of her thigh and over her hip, tracing constellations over the skin of her side. another kiss pressed to her shoulder, and cullen shifts, pushing himself up on one hand so he can more easily kiss her cheek, her jaw, the corner of her mouth. ]
Wake up, love. [ he murmurs, voice sleep-rough and deep. ] It's morning.
[ Cullen is a rotten scoundrel and Cecily knows it even while asleep. She feels the brush of his fingers and shivers, still more unconscious than conscious, feels the ghost of his lips in one place, then another. Cecily mutters faintly, shifting, sometimes seeming to lean into his touch and other times turning away. The sunlight trickles through over the mountains and spills into his room, signaling the end of her slumber and the beginning of the Commander's gentle teasing. ]
It isn't. [ She says, her face turned away from him, hair spilling over her shoulder and down her back. ] You would hear the birds.
[ Not only can they very clearly hear birds (who have been up for hours), but there's obvious noise from down in the courtyard, the busy-body rumble of work and conversation from other Inquisition members (who have been up for hours).
Cecilly half-turns, sleep in her eyes, to peek distastefully at him. After a moment, she returns to where she'd curled, facing the wall, pulling decidedly away from the lips and hands that she loves. ]
[ he laughs. cecily's reaction is expected, but it still amuses him. ]
Whatever you say, dearest.
[ by which he means that she is getting up and he's not going to be stopping this kissing her thing any time soon. he quite enjoys it. but he'll leave her face alone for now.
instead, he returns to the base of her neck and starts pressing kisses down her spine. firmer ones, now that she's joining him in the waking world, trailing down her back and, as he peels back the sheets, up over the crest of her hip. cullen nips lightly at her hip bone then--
stops. sits up and stretches like he means to get out of bed. ]
Enjoy your lie-in. I might as well get to work if you're going insist on staying asleep.
Mmyem. [ Comes the noise of assent (?) from under the table. Cecily tries to pull herself into a sitting position and, predictably, bonks her forehead on the underside. With a groan, the Inquisitor lies back down, pressing three fingers into where she'd bumped her head. ]
You made it. [ She mumbles, managing to turn onto her side to half-curl up, blinking back at Cassandra. ]
A - drink. [ Not true!! Cassandra will never be able to tell that she's lying, though. Her exaggerated expression and general state of being totally support her claim.
Cecily grasps the other's hand and seems to be at risk to pull Cassandra in beneath the table, too...except that the warrior has stronger arms, fortunately, and so the Inquisitor begins to clamber out from under the table. ]
Do you see. [ Not a question, but an exasperated statement as she gestures to the rest of the room. ] Do you see how I ended up in this mess that I certainly had nothing to do with?
[ There is an apostate in Skyhold. This fact doesn't bother the Inquisitor, who is happy to accept mages and templars and whoever else into their ranks so long as they aren't actively causing problems. No, the reason (or, one of them, anyway), that this apostate is so noteworthy is because she's...well.
Captivating. ]
How are you settling in?
[ Cecily approaches where the mage in question, Rowena, stands in the herb garden. Her hands are behind her back, her expression one of polite curiosity. ]
Many of our new arrivals find it chilly, save those odd few from the Emprise. [ At this, the Inquisitor shudders histrionically. ] Why anyone would live there, though, is completely beyond me, but I'm glad some people acclimate to this mountainous climate more easily, I suppose?
[ Coming from the Marches, where she'd spend most of her time indoors, the Frostbacks are...challenging. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I'm doing the thing!
and thank goodness for that!!
Skyhold isn't exactly a private place; it's a world all its own, isolated in many ways, and its inhabitants are awfully prone to gossip. Not all of them, mind, just... most. Cecily likes to think she's been fairly discrete in her budding relationship with the commander, save the flirting that sometimes happened during meetings that was seemingly unavoidable.
They try! Sometimes.
Following a knight of odd, drunken revelry (too few in number, Varric might, and does, say), the Inquisitor had lead Cullen to his chambers, apparently made up some kind of fortress out of his pillows, tucked the man into his own blankets and... collapsed on the way out, absconding with a pillow, herself. She'd woken up in confused embarrassment and slunk out quickly, but their conversation has her at his door, worrying at her lip, trying to practice her "seriously frustrated" faces. ]
Commander Cullen, I'm coming in, and if you aren't trapped in there, then so help me -
bwahahaha
There is, however, muffled sounds coming from Cullen's loft bedroom. Should she climb up to investigate, the only thing visible is a near mountain of pillows piled atop the bed.
Honestly, did she rob every bedroom in Skyhold last night? ]
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for sarah
They both say they won't stay there, but haven't yet found a reason to leave.
But when she has news too dire for ink and paper and there is someone who she is bursting at the seams to speak with. She debates it for too long, argues within her own mind until she's irritable, deflecting questions and concerns, leaving their home altogether to stalk through the forest at dusk because her feet are restless and her mind is a whirlwind.
Still. The crystal is clutched tight in her hand, a talisman even when it has no voice. Cecily makes a few quick resolutions, tries to work out what she's going to say (which isn't what she wants to say) before sitting at the base of a tree, elfroot curling around her side, and cupping the enchanted object in her hand. ]
Good evening, or - afternoon, Magister.
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Neither of them touch the subject of their having children at some point. Besides it being biologically impossible, Dorian wouldn't subject their child to the horrors of the magisterium, not when Bull couldn't be with them more than every few months. Instead, he watches their friends. Josie met some lovely man in Antiva, but they have no plans to marry soon and he knows she won't have children earlier. Honestly, out of the rest of them, Cecily is most likely to be first but not for a time.
It doesn't matter much either way; they've other things to focus on, Bull with his missions and Dorian with attempted assassinations and political machinations. When Cecily calls, he's just getting out of a mind-numbing lunch with another family, talking over proposed terms. It goes better than he expects but not as well as he hopes. ]
Oh, please. Anything but that. I've just spent the last hour in the most mind-numbingly tedious meetings and I am going to lose my mind if you start with that nonsense.
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[ The banter comes easily with Dorian despite the knots in her throat. She takes a long, deep breath, one she tries to keep silent, playing at keeping calmer than she feels. ]
Do you have some time to talk? There's something, er. Important that I'd like your advice for.
[ It's no surprise that she's asking for his help, not with how close they've grown since they met, but there is something hanging off of her words that's a touch different than usual. As if she's almost embarrassed to bring it up. Flustered, uneasy. More uncertain than perhaps she's ever been. ]
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They send a decoy, while Bull and his company arrive separately and then Dorian slips through the Eluvian. It's a much shorter trip, but despite everything, he nearly arrives too late.
They've the best healers and midwives available and Dorian spends a good portion of the time clutching Bull's hand while they stay outside the room, listening and able to do nothing. Cullen's in much the same state, pacing until both Dorian and Bull tell him to sit the hell down. They call Cullen in first, after assuring them there's nothing wrong. Dorian doesn't ask the sex of the baby just yet, instead waiting until it's their turn.
When it's done, Cullen's sitting by Cecily's bed, while she holds the child up against her. He balks in the door at first, Bull nearly running into him. ]
Maker, I didn't realize how small they were.
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Until she isn't. When the piercing sounds of her hellish torment die down, there are little wails of a newborn. She's relieved to see Cullen (somewhere in her painful haze she thought he'd left the building) and they touch foreheads briefly before he settles at her side. When they hand her the baby, new and too small and swaddled, she tucks him into the crook of her arm and keeps him close, unwilling to give him over to anyone just yet.
Dorian and Bull enter, or almost enter, and the comment draws a surprised, dry laugh. ]
Small? I hadn't noticed. Now, if you'd said "Maker, I can't believe how enormous he is, how could you possibly have achieved such a feat," then I would say, "yes, he's an absolute monster."
[ The Commander chuckles, half-rolling his eyes. She knows he's eager the baby again as it is technically also his, but she can't help but selfishly hold on for a few more moments to herself. Sweat glistens on her forehead, her hair is understandably disheveled, and the entire scene isn't unlike the aftermath of a battle, but there you have it. ]
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There's no way to tell if it's a boy or a girl, but it doesn't much matter. The squalling thing is alive and healthy from what they've heard, and Cecily is doing well, too. That's all he can ask for. ]
Do they all look quite so...turnip-y?
[ Behind him, Bull poorly stifles a laugh and Dorian shoots him a look. He finally summons the balls to circle around to the other side, reaching out to smooth back the sweaty mess of her hair and press a kiss to her forehead. ]
Any child of yours and the Commander's is bound to be an absolute monster.
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Today, the Commander is away. Dorian is there, however, having come down for one of the visits she cherishes so deeply. The sky is a stretch of azure, clouds dotting overhead and drifting lazily. She'd insisted they spend some time outside, having been feeling more than a little cabin fever lately, but it doesn't seem to disagree with any of them. Dorian has a book, naturally, and Justin moves around between them with the spirited ambling of a two year-old.
And the dog, of course, who is graying around his face. ]
-more books once we get to an actual city, because I've been through the dozen or so we have here, and it's absolutely making me mad. You remember how disappointed you were in Skyhold, though at least we had more than this.
[ She puffs out her cheeks, twining blades of grass between her fingers. The child totters by and she instinctively holds up a hand to brace against him as he bounces, laughing madly, into her arm and clings momentarily before trotting off again. ]
It - [ She seems as if she's going to rev up again along the same vein of conversation, but she freezes. She seems struck briefly dumb, eyes wide and drifting almost dramatically to the hand that Justin had plowed into; her fingers shine in the sunlight as she's coated down past the wrist in ice. ]
Dorian-!
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The air is cooler than he likes but he makes sure to bring more clothing this time around, bundling up. He hefts his robes up over his shoulders a touch more, rolling over onto his belly so he can keep reading his book between intermittent glances up watching Justin toddle about. ]
So we'll have Bull grab some at the next few cities he stops by. I think he's running escort for some noble or another and there's probably quite a few shops he could stop at.
[ Children are so bouncy. He's half-afraid every time Justin takes a spill that he's going to be genuinely hurt, but no, he bounces and rolls back up and giggles like nothing's happened. They're so strange, Maker.
He's lost back in his book again when he hears everything go quiet, even Cecily, and before he even thinks about it he reaches for his staff, rolling to his knees in a smooth movement just in time for her shout. A barrier is slung over all three of them, but a moment later he realizes there's nothing wrong-- or well, no one is attacking. Old habits, he supposes, and moves over to look at her hand with his eyebrows raised. ]
...Oh. Cullen is going to love this.
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Or who might still want revenge.
But that isn't on her mind at the moment. She shakes away at the fresh frost, eyes wide and mind working fast. ]
Andraste preserve us, as if things weren't complicated enough- [ Seized momentarily by fear, she rises swiftly to her feet and scoops up the ambling Justin, then relocates closer to Dorian and settles back down, scrutinizing his face. ]
Mama. [ He giggles, grabbing for her nose. Nothing magical happens, but she settles him into her lap after, staring hard at Dorian. ]
He could never be safe in a Circle, even if we- But-
[ She's never worried about demons or abominations or templars or anything else; she's never had to. All the mages (few and far between) in her company had been more than capable of handling themselves, had been paragons in their own ways. Never before has she felt a desire strike her hard and fast this way, like lighting, to protect someone with magical abilities. ]
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LATE LATE LATE
When the child is nearly five, though, Dorian makes a special trip out there, half-surprise. Cullen knew about it, of course, but he was the only one. He's spent a solid two weeks with Bull before this, and Bull and his men are intending to come down a few weeks from now, but that's a ways away.
When Dorian arrives at their house, it's Cullen who greets him; it's still horrifically early and the sun has barely started to rise. Dorian dismounts and clasps arms with him, giving him a quick hug and a small, tired smile. There's plenty of time to catch a quick nap before everything, so he's led to the spare bedroom and gets as far as his boots being off before he collapses exhausted into bed and curls up.
It's a few hours later that he wakes to the sound of tiny footsteps and the shift of the bed. Dorian cracks an eye open blearily, and makes a noise that he hopes is at least somewhat pleased when he sees the child there, a huge gap-toothed grin on his face, clutching a stuffed animal. Cullen stands in the doorway a moment, lips curled in a soft smile, and then leaves them to it, no doubt to get Cecily up. Somehow, between their child deciding that a nap as soon as he gets up is a good idea, and the mabari discovering there's someone new, by the time Cecily is awake and up, Dorian's got the kid conked out on his knees, the mabari splayed on the other side, curled protectively around their child.
Somewhat despairingly, he stares at the two of them and eyes the door, wondering if it's possible to slip away and clean up or if he's trapped here until they wake. The decision ends up made for him, though; Cullen takes pity on him and brings Cecily over to the doorway, terribly amused as he leans in on one side. We have a visitor. Though, you might have to pry him away from them. ]
NEVER
He- [ No, the child is fine, it's harmless, remember? And she can't quite believe him, since they're both here and their son isn't, but her follows Cullen out and into the hall with a tired acceptance (albeit a wary one), drawing a robe about herself.
Once they reach the doorway, she raises her hand to clutch at the front of her robes (out of a purely emotional reaction, nothing so base as modesty). ]
Maker, but you're absolutely a natural. [ She smiles brightly, speaking in hushed, but earnest tones. The hound lifts his head to see who's arrived, tongue lolling out in joyed response to his master's presence. Justin, however, is a decidedly unconscious pile on Dorian's lap. ]
Have I come to relieve you? He hasn't drooled, has he?
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I come to visit and you leave me to the wolves, as it were.
[ Dorian's voice is sleep-rough and soft, despite the fact that it's nearly lunch time. Traveling so far and long always takes it out of him; he feels a thousand times better after the nap, of course, but now he just wants a bath more than anything else in the world. ]
Who, the child or the dog?
[ Dorian grimaces as the mabari lets out a pleased whuff of air and wiggles up closer, butt wagging with the force of its tail trying to wag, eager for petting. Much as he likes both the mabari and the child, the child is far more preferable and the dog only gets a tentative pat on the head. ]
Both, tragically, but on your blankets, so I suppose it's not so bad.
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fucking kids X(
no what
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oh i was saying it's hard to write them bc i avoid them so it's like ??? how do they work
that's my secret cap; i am actually a five year old
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SO RUDE she only has one hand to hold!!
fml
shh no tears only dreams
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leaves this here for whenever. since we mentioned it.
part one of a million probably
Some days, it makes her restless to the point that she leaves without word and stalks the woods, pacing along the bank, trying to get a hold of herself. There isn't anything to be done at present about their former companion; if Leliana can't locate the apostate and his growing following, then they have no chance of real action. The other members of the Inquisition had drifted to the corners of Thedas to do their own work, considering that they'd only been on loan, really, and there was still so much to be done. Cassandra, the Divine, restoring order to a messy world. Varric, overseeing Kirkwall with the Champion and their friends. All the others had equally large duties piled in front of them and she can hardly blame them for it. Some days, it's more the opposite, and she feels little pin-pricks of guilt knowing that Cullen might have been the one to really aid the affected templars, had things... been different.
And they are different. Very much so, and only blossoming more and more gradually into the kind of life she'd never thought she'd have.
They are in their small, Ferelden home. Well, more accurately, Cullen is, or... he'd been there when she'd left in what had become a routine to walk the local stretch of greenery. Today is different, today is Cecily Trevelyan, former Inquisitor, sitting at the base of one of the larger trees for a long time, heart pounding, before summoning her courage and returning to the house. She hovers in the doorway, a guilty, prodigal child, and then slips inside with a much meeker air about her than usual. ]
Cullen?
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but right now, it's what's best. for him and for cecily. for the world, really. any chance they have of taking solas down eventually depends on them laying low until leliana gives them something they can truly act on. and their small home in the hinterlands gives cecily space to recover and relearn life without an arm. it's a good set-up. and yet cullen can't help but worry sometimes. the itch in her shoes, that restless need to do something more is something he sees an echo of in himself at times.
it's just--an adjustment. they'll get used to it eventually, or they'll find something to occupy themselves. it will just take time. this is what he tells himself as he washes their dishes and puts them away. what he tells himself when cecily leaves and stays away longer than usual.
he doesn't tell himself anything when he comes back worried. he just prays nothing's wrong as he dries his hands off and steps towards her. ]
What is it, love?
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he starts with a feather-light touch of his lips behind her ear. then her shoulder. the base of her neck. his hands skim up the side of her thigh and over her hip, tracing constellations over the skin of her side. another kiss pressed to her shoulder, and cullen shifts, pushing himself up on one hand so he can more easily kiss her cheek, her jaw, the corner of her mouth. ]
Wake up, love. [ he murmurs, voice sleep-rough and deep. ] It's morning.
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It isn't. [ She says, her face turned away from him, hair spilling over her shoulder and down her back. ] You would hear the birds.
[ Not only can they very clearly hear birds (who have been up for hours), but there's obvious noise from down in the courtyard, the busy-body rumble of work and conversation from other Inquisition members (who have been up for hours).
Cecilly half-turns, sleep in her eyes, to peek distastefully at him. After a moment, she returns to where she'd curled, facing the wall, pulling decidedly away from the lips and hands that she loves. ]
It isn't morning at all. You're dreaming.
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Whatever you say, dearest.
[ by which he means that she is getting up and he's not going to be stopping this kissing her thing any time soon. he quite enjoys it. but he'll leave her face alone for now.
instead, he returns to the base of her neck and starts pressing kisses down her spine. firmer ones, now that she's joining him in the waking world, trailing down her back and, as he peels back the sheets, up over the crest of her hip. cullen nips lightly at her hip bone then--
stops. sits up and stretches like he means to get out of bed. ]
Enjoy your lie-in. I might as well get to work if you're going insist on staying asleep.
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for @buttonedup
Mmyem. [ Comes the noise of assent (?) from under the table. Cecily tries to pull herself into a sitting position and, predictably, bonks her forehead on the underside. With a groan, the Inquisitor lies back down, pressing three fingers into where she'd bumped her head. ]
You made it. [ She mumbles, managing to turn onto her side to half-curl up, blinking back at Cassandra. ]
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Of course I did.
( She reaches out with one hand. )
How much have you had to drink?
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Cecily grasps the other's hand and seems to be at risk to pull Cassandra in beneath the table, too...except that the warrior has stronger arms, fortunately, and so the Inquisitor begins to clamber out from under the table. ]
Do you see. [ Not a question, but an exasperated statement as she gestures to the rest of the room. ] Do you see how I ended up in this mess that I certainly had nothing to do with?
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i was on hiatus for a month but i'm back now if you're still interested! <3
SO LATE, totally fine if you'd prefer not to continue!!
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Captivating. ]
How are you settling in?
[ Cecily approaches where the mage in question, Rowena, stands in the herb garden. Her hands are behind her back, her expression one of polite curiosity. ]
Many of our new arrivals find it chilly, save those odd few from the Emprise. [ At this, the Inquisitor shudders histrionically. ] Why anyone would live there, though, is completely beyond me, but I'm glad some people acclimate to this mountainous climate more easily, I suppose?
[ Coming from the Marches, where she'd spend most of her time indoors, the Frostbacks are...challenging. ]