Breaking the Divide - Cullen X Reader

12

 Kaitlyn—

Lady Trevelyan—

I wanted to apologize for

Inquisitor Trevelyan—

I've been thinking of our last conversation and there are several things that I'd like to explain about both Kinloch Hold and the Gallows and how I

Inquisitor—

I hope that you are well and that your search for Hawke's Warden friend is not proving too arduous. Skyhold is continuing to grow and revive as people of all kinds begin to gather around the gates, ready to lend what aid they can. Ser Barris recovered many of the templars who fled Therinfall Redoubt and he and Enchanter Fiona are continuing to work together better than anyone could've hoped for. It is not without incident, of course, but together, they've been able to reach an uneasy peace between the mage and templar camps.

Since you've left, my mind has often wondered to the last conversation we had. I know I have given you reason to doubt me and my competence but I swear to you that I am dedicated to the Inquisition and everyone under its banner, mage or otherwise. Despite anything else I may have said, I believe in you and the choices you've made and I continue to follow you with nothing but pride in my heart. If there is anything else you wish to know of me, you need only ask. I will not hide anything from you. I never will.

Despite the differences between us, I hope that...

that...

"That what?"

Cullen groaned and crumpled up the draft of the letter, tossing it aside to the growing pile of his failed attempts. He'd burn them later.

It had been nearly ten endless days since Kaitlyn had left and taken the bulk of the inner circle with her. Ten days. He ran his hands over his face and let out another low groan. It'd felt like an eternity. He must've scrapped over a hundred letters, but what could he say to her? Would she even open a letter that carried his name?

He stuffed his quill into the inkpot and began rubbing absently at the tips of his fingers where his skin was stained black. Ten days. Leliana had received a few brief missives from Cassandra, a request from Varric about his publisher, and some notes from Solas about elven artifacts he'd found, but nothing else. Nothing from her. He knew better than to expect a message. Kaitlyn would be occupied with her duties and the companions she'd brought. And it wasn't as though she had any reason to report to him. But he couldn't shake the—yearning was too strong a word for what he felt, but the desire to hear from her, to know Kaitlyn was safe, nagged at him, pulled him from his reports and books and meetings, taunting him with images of her hurt or alone.

"Commander?"

Cullen looked up, unable to fully the muster the glare he felt at being interrupted. "Yes?"

The soldier stepped forward. There was a slight tremor to her hands when she approached the desk and Cullen tried to relax the annoyance from his face. She was young—mid-twenties at most—with large brown eyes and dark blonde hair. Pretty and soft—a stark contrast to most of their recruits.

"A letter arrived for you, ser."

Cullen straightened instantly. "From?"

"Don't know, ser. It wasn't marked on the outside." She held the letter out, her pale cheeks gaining a faint pink hue. He snatched it from her. The red seal broke beneath his fingers as he hurried to unroll the parchment.

Dear Mia, I'm still alive. Your loving brother, Cullen

He blinked at the opening line as raw disappointment trickled down his spine, making him slump back down into the chair.