Chapter Text
Skyhold is buzzing.
The armies have returned, civilians are out on the streets, there is food and wine being rolled through the gates in never-ending streams. Josephine has managed to outdo herself with the swift organisation of the festivities.
There is so much celebration.
Cullen’s cheeks ache from smiling. He knows there is more to do, he knows there is just as much to fix as there was a battle to fight but they have earned this.
Many of his soldiers have requested leave to return home and Cullen has gladly granted it, thrilled to be finally uniting families rather than tearing them apart. But there are still more that want to follow them, that wish to remain under their command and continue the work of the Inquisition.
He is so proud, for once.
The Inquisition has made a difference. He made a difference.
The sound of laughter reaches his open windows and he smiles to hear it. He will join the celebrations shortly, but he knows he has one more thing he must do.
He pulls out a sheet of paper, dips his quill in the ink and starts to write:
Dear Mia,
I know you will be mad I have not written sooner, but I have news…
—
Cullen tries to track down Kilastra amongst the crowds, and is reminded of when he was first trying to get to know her. She seems to have been everywhere but never when he arrives, he is always a step behind, listening to rumours of her presence. It is only when he enters the main hall that he notices the door to Solas’ rotunda is partially open, a small slant of light spilling to the hall.
He pushes lightly on the door, allowing it to open slowly, wanting to give her time to react if she wanted to. But she is simply gazing at the empty table.
The whole place is stripped bare, except for the painted murals he has left in his wake, the tales of the Inquisition in bold patterns on the wall.
“I don’t know how he managed to clean this place out,” she says, troubled.
“He was always very adept at blending in,” Cullen says, but it makes her furrow her brow further.
“He should have said something, he should have said goodbye at least.”
Cullen is reminded once more of how much she cares so very fiercely. How it is this caring that has brought them to where they are now. He approaches her slowly, winding his arms around her and she leans into him as acceptance. Her hair tickles his nose a little as he pulls her close.
“I’m so mad at him,” she says, and she is looking at her anchored hand that has continued to glow despite them being able to close the breach. Cullen stays silent because he is not sure how to help this, so he holds her tighter instead and she sighs into him. When she looks up at him she seems to have more control and manages a smile.
“Everyone else is here though,” she says, looking up to him for confirmation.
“Yes, they are,” he smiles in response, “and they are waiting for you in the hall, but if you need more time?”
“No, no. I want to focus on moving forward.”
“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” he says, “that we get to talk about moving forwards.”
She smiles softly at him and places a light kiss on his lips.
“Yes, I suppose it is.”
She is whisked immediately away from him with an apologetic glance from Josephine as she is bandied about. She has a million people to talk to tonight, friends and allies and more. He finds he spends the evening watching her from the sidelines and trying to stay close to Varric and Dorian who have a marvellous ability to repel people he does not want to speak to.
He aches to have more time with her alone, but he knows that this is important, so he bides his time and he waits. He lets the sound of people laughing wash over him and tries to let the reality sink in.
They really did it. They really managed to beat Corypheus.
When the music is low and the sun is beginning to set, she comes to him. A slight sway in her step but a dazzling smile on her face.
“Commander,” she says, and his back straightens at the tone in her voice and the look in her eye. She reaches out a hand for him and he takes it, offering support.
“I have a matter I’d like to discuss with you in my quarters,” she says, still grinning and Varric and Dorian give little whooping cheers and kind smiles. Cullen has never felt so part of a group before and he blushes crimson under all the attention, but Kilastra is a little drunk and a lot bold and she weaves him through the crowd - ignoring the looks that follow them.
As soon as they are behind closed doors she kisses him and he melts into her touch, wanting to sink into this.
“Can you believe it?” she says, shaking her head and closing her eyes against the sway, “there is a part of me that doesn’t believe it at all.”
“I know what you mean,” he says, planting kisses down the side of her face, “but we did do it.”
Kilastra pulls back from him and her mouth opens into a little oh.
“Wow,” she says and Cullen huffs a laugh.
“Wow, indeed” he responds and kisses away her reply. Still grinning Kilastra spins away from him and throws open the balcony doors, letting in the cool air of the mountains. She turns to him and offers up the palm of her hand - an invitation.
In her, he sees that bright red thread of hope and he reaches out to take it. Nestled in his arms and gazing at the sun turning orange-hued and pink over the mountains, Kilastra sighs contentedly.
“I haven’t made a plan in…well, since the breach. It feels nice to be able to look forward.”
Cullen gives a little mmm of acknowledgement, he does not feel he needs to add to the sentiment and he is lost in the feeling of her in his arms, the wine, the victory and the setting sun.
“What do you see for us?” She asks, eyes fixed on the horizon, but gently stroking his hand and leaning into him.
The answer comes to him easily.
“I see a future,” he responds, his heart filling with joy as he sees the way she smiles at his answer.
“Is it a good one?” she asks tentatively, still drawing little circles in his skin.
Cullen sees a summer reaching Skyhold, a burst of green in the mountains, he sees time where they can get to know each other outside of war rooms and constant danger. He sees a ring that he will fetch from his parent’s home and he aches at how much he wants to share with her.
“Oh yes,” he responds and she turns to kiss him, sure and soft and inviting.
“I can’t wait to see it.”