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

In the Morning Light

4 Wintersend, 9:42

The sunrise over the mountains the next morning dispelled the last of the shadows from Antonia's mood as she watched it from her balcony. She took a long sip of the steaming hot tea. Even sweetened with honey it didn't taste good, but there was something calming about taking it, knowing that it removed that worry from her life, at least for now.

She had wrestled through most of the night with guilt and longing and sorrow and panic and the sudden, intense desire to throw off all the burdens of the Inquisition and just let the world suffer along without her. But in the morning light she was back to herself again, knowing she had a job to do and willing to do it, believing in the goals the Inquisition had set out to attain.

And she had an important role in those goals. A role that might not be the life of home and family she had glimpsed so briefly yesterday, but it was fulfilling in its own way. Not to mention that it had led her to Cullen, and to Varric and Dorian and the Iron Bull and his Chargers, and all the other people who formed her Inquisition family. They were enough, for now, and if they were all there ever was ... well, they were still more than many people got in a lifetime.

She finished the tea, grimacing at the taste as the dregs flowed over her tongue, and went inside to dress in her training gear.

Outside, she paused on the steps down to the courtyard to watch Cullen, who naturally had gotten there first, in his forms. Long legs, strong arms, all that intensity—he was quite the eyeful. And all hers.

"Enjoying the show?"

She jumped, not having heard Varric come up behind her. "That wasn't nice."

"You shouldn't drool so openly."

"How far would it get me to ask you to mind your own business?"

Varric laughed. "Good try, Herald. Also, I have something for you."

"What?"

"A letter. From South Reach. I'll leave it on your desk, shall I?"

"Yes, please. Any word on your other project?"

"Not yet. Patience, Herald."

"Not my strong suit, Varric."

Varric grinned. "No kidding."

She tossed him a look, and headed down the rest of the stairs. Cullen was just finishing up his forms as she arrived at the edge of the training ring, reaching for a towel to wipe the sweat off his face and neck.

"No need to stop on my account, Commander," she purred at him, leaning her arms on the fence.

He spun around, apprently not having seen her there, and she felt a pang of guilt at the questioning, almost hesitant look on his face. "How are you this morning, Inquisitor?"

"Much better, thank you."

"Really?"

"Really." She smiled at him to confirm the improvement in her mood, and he came over to stand next to her. His nearness and the scent of him and the way he bent his head near hers had their usual effect on her breathing. "I don't suppose you'd like to go somewhere so I can show you how much better I feel, would you?"

The tips of his ears turned red, his eyes darkening, but he shook his head. "I'm afraid keeping up with such a rapid change in tenor is not a skill I've acquired to date."

"I'm sorry," Antonia said. She'd hated to leave him last night after her uncharacteristic outburst, sure he must be feeling confused, or worse. She reached for his hand—with her right hand this time—and squeezed it. "I wish I could explain, but—" The last thing she wanted to talk to him about right now was babies and a future they probably couldn't have, a future they'd never discussed, and one that was impossible anyway as long as he still wasn't ready to take that last step. "It just ... was too much yesterday. All this." She waved around them. "And you're part of that, and I needed—I just needed some time alone to get it all out of my system."

"Just like that, it's out of your system?"

"Well, no, not entirely, and I can't promise it's not all going to hit me like that again sometime, but mostly ... mark or no mark, if I had wanted to walk away from this, I would have. No one forced me to go meet Corypheus at Haven. I chose to do that; I chose to become the Inquisitor. Every day I wake up, I choose it again, because I believe it's the right thing. Knowing that—it helps."

Cullen's hand shifted to encompass hers. He tipped her chin up with his other hand. "You don't have to do it alone."

"I know."

He kissed her then, firmly, reassuring her and warming her all through, then let her go. "Now. I believe someone mentioned training."

"Someone may have." She sighed at the loss of his touch, but she knew she could have it again later; for today at least he was here and she was here, and that was enough. "And, after training, what do you say we put our heads together and figure out how to get back at Sera for what she did to your desk?"

Cullen turned around sharply, his eyes narrowed. "And who said she did anything to my desk?"

"Um ... you did," Antonia said hastily, but not quite quickly enough.

He came back toward her, looming over her. "So you were there. I was told as much, but I couldn't believe you, the Inquisitor, would stoop so low." His voice was low and dangerous, but there was a twinkle in his eye that he couldn't quite hide. "Tell me what she did."

Even half in jest, his commanding attitude in addition to the way his shirt clung to his chest after his exertions made him the sexiest thing Antonia had ever seen in all her life. She swayed toward him, breathless. "What's in it for me?"

From the look on his face, she expected him to kiss her again. She wanted him to kiss her again, could practically taste it. But he remembered where they were—and who they were—in time to step back. Antonia couldn't quite hold back an audible whimper of disappointment, and Cullen licked his lower lip at the sound, which only made her hungrier.

He stepped back, picking up his practice sword. "You are a temptress of the first order," he said huskily.

"Apparently not a successful one." Antonia pouted a little, and Cullen grinned at her.

"We'll see about that later. For now, we spar. If I win, you tell me what she did. If you win, you can help me determine how best to retaliate."

"I hope you're prepared to be bested, Commander."

"Fine talk, Inquisitor. Let's see if you can back it up."

Antonia took up the practice sword and entered the ring.

Her training session ended in a draw, and a brief but passionate kiss in his office after she helped him remove the sliver of wood from under his desk, with promises of a serious discussion of revenge against Sera later. Antonia had breakfast and a long bath, did some glad-handing with the nobles who were visiting, and had a brief chat with Scout Harding, who was in Skyhold between missions. Finally she had a moment to sit down at her desk and open the letter from Cullen's sister.

Dear Inquisitor,
Your kind invitation received. We are understandably relieved to hear good news about Cullen—you may know he's not a particularly devoted correspondent. It will certainly be our honor to visit Skyhold and our pleasure to see Cullen at long last. It has been much, much too long. Your generosity in extending the invitation is appreciated.
You may expect four adults and two children; I trust that will not tax the resources of Skyhold unduly. We look forward to meeting you.
Yours,
Mia Rutherford Chaffee

Antonia smiled, imagining what Cullen would say, how he would look, when his sister and the rest of his family came to visit. From her letter, his sister appeared to be a rather blunt, forthright type, and Antonia looked forward to meeting her.

Wintersend was still a good month away, however, and in the meantime, there was Empress Celene's ball at the Winter Palace coming up, and an assassination plot to foil. Antonia could feel her pulse speeding up, although whether that was more to do with nervousness over the delicate task ahead of her or excitement at the prospect of dancing with Cullen at a proper ball, she wasn't entirely sure.

Either way, she thought, getting up and wandering to her balcony again, looking out over her beloved mountains, she looked forward to getting on with it. Her life might not be exactly what she had once envisioned ... but it was never dull.