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

Faith

17 Justinian, 9:42

Antonia was used to waking up in the middle of the night to Cullen's nightmares by now; but waking up entirely alone was unusual. She looked around the room in the moonlight streaming in the open balcony doors, but he was clearly not there. Both dogs were stretched out at the top of the stairs, muzzles resting on their paws, looking down toward the door.

She got out of bed and threw her clothes on, trying to decide where to look for him first. He had seemed withdrawn all day, distracted, and she wasn't going to risk the possibility that this was the lyrium flaring up again. They were too close to the final battle against Corypheus to take any chances with Cullen's health and sanity.

Downstairs, the main hall was deserted. Of the most likely options, the Chantry was closest—he liked to go there in the middle of the night when he could be reasonably sure of being alone.

Sure enough, the door to the Chantry was slightly ajar, and she could hear his familiar voice reciting the Chant inside.

"Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's light, and nothing that he has wrought shall be lost."

Antonia slipped inside as quietly as she could, not wanting to disturb him, but the hinges of the door squeaked, and he looked around, seeming unsurprised to see her.

"Seeking comfort in prayer?" she asked softly.

"Seeking Andraste's blessing for those we have lost." He looked away from her, his voice dropping. "And those I am afraid to lose."

Knowing how he struggled with his fears, she didn't press him on that. Instead, she said, "I'm glad you haven't lost your faith."

Cullen nodded, looking back up at Andraste, his hands clasped firmly before him as he knelt there. "I've questioned it at times, certainly, but I've found comfort in faith when my life offered little." He stood up, turning to her. "We must draw our strength wherever we can. Corypheus will retaliate against you; it's only a matter of time. You've foiled every one of his plots, and ... When the time comes, you will be where his path leads. Andraste preserve me," he said, his voice breaking, "I must send you to him." He closed his eyes.

She had meant to comfort him, but her own fears were so near the surface that the words came out before she thought. "What if I can't ... Cullen, if I don't ..."

Reaching out, he traced his fingers across her cheek. "Maker, no. The thought of losing you ..."

Antonia pressed her lips together. He was going to make her cry if he kept this up. "Cullen, don't do this to yourself. Or me. It's going to be hard enough— But if we pretend that there's no chance of the worst coming to pass ..."

He put his fingers over her lips. "You must allow me this, love. To believe anything else ... I can't." Cullen shook his head. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I meant to give all that was in me to the Inquisition, to atone for what I had become after the Circle, but there you were, everything I had ever dreamed of and more, and so unexpectedly and unbelievably mine, and I couldn't ..."

"You're not damaging the Inquisition by being with me."

Cullen took her face in his hands. "Don't you see? You are everything to me. If it were a choice between you and the Inquisition—" He couldn't complete the sentence, his throat working with the force of his emotion.

Antonia reached for his hands, clasping them in her own. "You would choose the Inquisition. As I would. As we both have several times over. Don't sell yourself short."

He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. "You are the strongest person I have ever known."

"You should look in the mirror more often, then. You might falter in the dark of night, but in the light of day—Cullen, my strength comes from you." She disentangled from him long enough to dig in her pocket and bring out Jared's coin. "And my luck. So there's nothing to worry about." She smiled at him.

Cullen mustered a smile in return. "That's less comforting than I'd hoped."

Over his shoulder, Antonia met the stone eyes of Andraste. "You know," she said softly, "here we are in the Chantry, both of us professing to be believers, and we seem to have forgotten the promises of the Maker—that we'll meet again at His side. I think we've both done more than enough in His service to warrant that certainty." She smiled again. "If I get there first, I promise, I'll save you the seat right next to me."

That got a soft chuckle, at least, which Antonia was relieved to hear. "I suppose that's something." The smile faded, his voice roughening. "But ... not enough, may the Maker forgive me."

Antonia placed her hand along the side of his face, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. "You can't see anything but despair right now, can you?"

"No." He pulled her into his arms, pressing his face into the junction between her neck and shoulder. She could feel him trembling against her, feel the powerful sway fear held over him here in the deep dark of the night. "Whatever happens, you will come back. You have to."

She held him as tightly as she could, her face buried in the fur of his collar. "Is that an order, Commander?"

He didn't laugh, as she had hoped he might, but some of the tension in him eased. "No, but as one of your advisors, I strongly recommend it."

"If you say so." They stood there for a long time before Antonia disentangled herself. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Back to bed; we'll see if we can't take your mind off your troubles."

"You have your work cut out for you."

She grinned at him. "I like a challenge."

With a last glance at Andraste, silent and still, she led him out of the Chantry.