A Candle in the Darkness (A Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfiction)

Take Care of Her

22 Firstfall, 9:41

"So, Curly, looking forward to the big scrap?"

Cullen looked down at the dwarf. "If anyone but you had asked me that question, they wouldn't like the answer."

Varric chuckled. "I get that a lot."

"Are you looking forward to it?" Cullen asked.

"More like scared shitless."

"Sensible man."

The dwarf looked odd atop a horse, clearly out of his element. Cullen wondered why he was still here. Years ago, he'd have given good odds on Varric spending the rest of his life in that seedy tavern.

"Do you miss Kirkwall, Varric?"

"Are you crazy? I'd cry tears of joy if I could have a bottle of that piss they sell at the Hanged Man under the name of ale. I'd even be happy to see Aveline right now ... although less happy if she'd seen the latest chapter of Swords & Shields, because then she'd be kicking my ass." He glanced at Cullen. "I don't have to ask if you miss it."

"No. The Inquisition is much better. In every way." Far ahead, Cullen could see Antonia riding with the Iron Bull and the Chargers, all of them singing some kind of riotous song.

"For you, I can see that."

"Varric, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Can't promise an answer, though."

"How did you keep Hawke safe all that time?"

The dwarf chuckled. "What makes you think I had anything to do with that?"

"I never saw her without you, and somehow you both survived those years, despite the near-constant fighting. It seemed as though a day couldn't go by without hearing about the Champion's most recent fight."

"There was a lot of it." Varric sighed. "At least in the Inquisition, the only fights that happen at Skyhold are the ones someone's paying for. Nice to have the break, now and then."

Cullen let that one pass. He didn't particularly like that there were prize fights at Skyhold, but they entertained the men, and the rules were followed fairly well, so he hadn't felt the need to put a stop to the practice yet.

"I don't know, Commander. Maybe Bianca and I are just lucky."

"Will you try to use that luck on the Inquisitor?" Cullen asked softly. He should trust in the Maker, let the Maker be Antonia's shield, as the Chant said, but somehow he wanted ... assurances. An edge against the fates that seemed bent on her destruction.

"I'll do what I can."

They rode in silence for a few minutes, lost in thought. Cullen was thinking of Hawke and Antonia, of their differences and similarities. Hawke was waiting for them near Adamant, and would join in the assault with a Grey Warden from Kirkwall. He wondered how the two women would work together. "How did Fenris do it?" he asked abruptly.

"Do what?" Varric asked. "Oh. That." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "It was different because more often than not, they were in it side-by-side. Easier in some ways, harder in others." He looked ahead now, as well, smiling briefly as he recognized the song the Chargers were singing. "They're very different."

"Do you think so?"

"No doubt about it."

"Who would you rather follow into battle?"

"Oh, no, you don't, Commander. Word gets around I played favorite hero and one or the other of those very scary women will get pissed at me—or both. And then you're all out one extremely charming and charismatic dwarf."

Cullen smiled at that. "In some ways ..." He hesitated, feeling disloyal. "I'd almost feel better if Hawke was taking the lead."

To his surprise, Varric laughed heartily. "Of course you would. Take a nice weight off your shoulders, make it more likely that someone else would take the brunt of the assault. No surprise there; none at all." He looked sideways at Cullen. "She's got a good head on her, Commander. Doesn't quite have Hawke's physical force, but she's good enough with the greataxe to handle most of what comes at her, and she's ... ahem, better at tactics." He shrugged. "Has to be, really, though, because she doesn't have a broody elf with a sword as tall as he is hacking away at her side. We're good, but it's not the same."

"She has you, and she has Dorian."

"Yep. Blackwall's good, too, and motivated on this one."

"You were with her at Haven, Varric." For the life of him, Cullen couldn't stop seeing her pale, determined face as she turned away from him in the Haven Chantry. He didn't know why this felt so much like Haven, but it did. He wasn't going to be happy until he had her back safe and sound at Skyhold, in his arms on top of the battlements.

He thought of her soft mouth kissing him, her hands on the back of his neck—and then in his mind's eye her hands flowed into deep dark shadow and wrapped around him was a shade, moaning its darkness into his ear, and it was pushing him backward and he was falling ...

"Whoa, Curly, you all right?" Varric had a hand on his arm, steadying him.

Cullen rubbed a hand over his forehead. There was an itch deep under his skin as if his veins were calling out for the power of the lyrium as he prepared himself for the upcoming assault; apparently fighting that itch was taking away more of his focus than he had been aware of. "I'm fine," he reassured the dwarf. "Just a little tired."

"I hear sleep's a good cure for that." Varric's eyes on him were kind.

"So they tell me. I wouldn't know."

Months ago, the idea that so many people might know, or at least guess, what struggles he lived with every day would have made Cullen extremely uncomfortable, but slowly he was learning to relax, to let people in just a little. They made it difficult not to. And he was grateful that in their love for the Inquisitor they followed so devotedly, her companions made room for those who were important to her.

"Well, don't overdo it too much, will you? Wouldn't be much of an Inquisition without you."

"Thank you, Varric." Cullen's eyes sought far ahead of him again and found the slender figure with the short brown hair. "You'll take care of her?"

"Much as I can."

"That's all I ask." Maybe, if they could get through this, and get back home, maybe then he could relax a bit.