[Dragon Age] Letters To Henry

27 - The Guardian

Lady Pentaghast sighs quietly as she focuses her ears and listens to the gentle rhythmic patter of the rain as it drips from somewhere above their tent and the canopy of trees that they have made camp under, onto the thick canvas material of their shelter. The steady thump of the large drops of rain against their tent making her wish they were back at Skyhold in the warm and dry, under a real roof and behind warming and protective walls rather than still on the road. They were still four days riding before they would reach the end of the mountain trail and their home, but the further they got into the mountains the worse the weather was going to get. Soon the rain and cold would be replaced by snow and howling winds, and she wasn't sure what was worse.

Cassandra shivers slightly at the thought, her time in The Seekers and The Inquisition had meant she had spent a lot of time out in the field and in pop up shelters and beds, but more recently her life at Skyhold had left her spoilt and she had become much more accustomed to a nice warm and incredibly soft bed. Lady Pentaghast had no idea how she had ever managed to sleep out in the elements when she didn't have her Lord Trevelyan to keep her warm. The nights spent miserable, cold and packed in with as many of her Order as would fit seemed like a distant memory and another life away. She fixes her eyes into the darkness at her side, trying to focus on the rhythm hoping it will help send her off to sleep and forget about how cold her toes are.

Lady Pentaghast feels Lord Trevelyan stir behind her and wrap his arms instinctively around her tighter, drawing her closer to his body so she is tucked safely beneath his chin and his head is resting against the back of hers. She immediately appreciates the warmth of his chest pressed against her back, the feel of his shallow breath against the back of her head and his arm around her waist wondering how he had managed to fall asleep so quickly when she was still laying awake. It was late, the fire was burning outside and the camp was mostly quiet, so she knew she had been awake for hours. She hears his breath remain even as he continues to sleep deeply, wrapped around her for comfort even as he sleeps. She glances over her shoulder at him, just about being able to make out the shape of his sleeping form and the features of his face in the small amount of light that trickles through the gap in the flap of their small tent from the logs that burn in the fire pit to give them all warmth and safety.

These past few weeks had been hard for them both, he had nearly been taken from her completely because of the mark and the vial and she had almost lost her life at his hands. Him keeping things from her, trying to protect her and not sharing his past with her had almost torn them apart. She had betrayed his trust and left him questioning their relationship but they had forgiven and decided that nothing was as important as each other. Now he slept soundly next to her even though she knew he had a worried mind and his peaceful slumber never lasted very long. She longed for her own mind to settle and her body to stop shivering and allow her to join him in the rest she desperately needed; she still had work to do and a long day ahead of her.

Cassandra turns in his arms to face him in the darkness; leaning up slightly resting her cheek on her hand so can see her sleeping Inquisitor. Her eyes travel over the smooth skin of his face; his lightly closed lids that hide the brown pools of his eyes, the small curve at the corner of his mouth that always begged to be kissed with her own lips, the small furrow at his brow that deepened when he was deep in thought. She couldn't help but wonder what features of her lover would be passed to their child, would they have his eyes? Would they inherit his kind soul and gentle nature? Would they be driven by loyalty and be loved by those around them? Maybe they would have her stubbornness but his mischief. But he wasn't just her lover anymore.. She was now his wife. Cassandra smiles to herself as she gazes upon her sleeping husband.

The peaceful look of a contented man looks back at her and she envies him at that moment. With all the pressure that was placed upon The Inquisitor, he was tonight able to sleep knowing he and his family were safe beneath their canvas sanctuary. Cassandra pulls the furs and blankets up tighter around them, trying to keep the cold from waking him and hoping that he'll get a while longer to rest. She hears the sound of boots outside their tent and the quiet mumble of some of the Inquisition solders talking to each other as they pass and make their way around the perimeter of the camp, making sure that there is nothing out of the ordinary and most likely trying to keep the chill from their bodies. She hears their voices get further away as they move back to the large fire that has been constructed in the middle of the camp. Lady Pentaghast strains her ears trying to listen for any trace of noise or sounds from the tent that has been pitched against the side of their own, where she knows the Commander Cullen will be sleeping. She wonders if he is struggling to sleep too or if the last few days of travelling have left him tired enough to sleep as deeply as her lover, she imagines her best friend and protector curled up under his own set of furs trying to push some of the painful memories of Ostwick away and remind himself that he was happy for his friends and their secret marriage that he had been a part of.