Breaking the Divide - Cullen X Reader

10

"You've been promoted to Knight-Commander?"

Delrin's chin raised slightly and his back straightened as though Cullen had called him to attention. "Just this morning. The Inquisitor did it herself with what few templars we have bearing witness."

"I... wasn't aware. I hope you'll pardon my lack of attendance."

Delrin shook his head, pride leaking out of every pore. "I didn't know of it myself until it happened. The Inquisitor told me to discuss a few matters with you before fully taking over the position."

"Of course," Cullen said, trying to focus his attention on the reports and charts he'd read over the night before and not the way Kaitlyn had looked at him before running out of the room, or the way her face been so close to his own that her hair practically tickled his forehead, or the way she'd stayed with him through the night, nursing him through his night terrors.

"Commander?"

"Yes?" Cullen blinked. "Forgive me, I—my mind was wandering elsewhere. You were saying?"

"I'm to lead the templars and whatever Inquisition soldiers you can spare to find any other survivors of Therinfal Redoubt."

"Yes, of course. I'll have a list of those best equipped for facing the red templars to you before the day is out." Cullen returned to the papers on his desk. He'd made it through several paragraphs when Delrin cleared his throat.

"There's more?" Cullen asked.

"We've received several shipments of phylacteries from Ferelden, Orlais, and the Free Marches."

"What of them?"

"The Inquisitor said I should defer to you on what becomes of them."

Cullen blinked at that and settled back into his seat. His thumb drummed against his desk, thinking more of why Kaitlyn would say such a thing than what to do with the phylacteries themselves.

"Commander?" Delrin prompted.

"Store them somewhere safe, somewhere out of sight. Have a templar, seeker, and mage guarding them if you wish to do so—that should cut down on any accusations of abuse."

"I'll see that it's done." Delrin dismissed himself with a nod, a grin plastered on his face even while he winced at every step, his hand pressed against his side.

Cullen watched him for a moment, his chin in his hand as he stared after the man. It had been nearly eight hours since Kaitlyn had left his office. He'd dismissed her absence at first. She needed to rest after that long night, have some time to herself. But why hadn't she told him about Barris? Or the phylacteries? Why hadn't she come to see him yet? Had she forgotten?

He let out a grumbled growl before snatching up his quill and all but smashing it through his desk as he scratched out a report for Master Dennet about the mounts they'd acquired. Busy work. That's all he had to do. An endless, mindless stream of paper that did nothing to alleviate his thoughts of the Inquisitor.

Maker, she'd looked so upset that morning. Hurt. Betrayed in a way he feared he could not fix.

Cullen shook his head and dove into the paperwork. He grunted when his soldiers passed through on their rounds across the battlements, ignored the nagging hunger building in his stomach, shut everything else out until the setting sun reminded him to find candles before he lost himself to darkness. His chair scraped against the stone when he stood.

"Commander?"

He jumped back, hand going to his sword. He'd unsheathed the weapon several inches before his mind caught up to the situation. Kaitlyn stood in western door. The dying sun illuminated her in scarlet, setting her brown hair on fire and turning her into a creature of myth. Her lips were pressed into a thin line while her eyes settled on the hilt of his blade where his had was still wrapped around it.