My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  Mia snorted, her eyes darting around as if to check for pranksters hidden in the walls, "That's a good...What are you...?" she struggled to counter Lana's statement but the power of her force overwhelmed anyone. "But the Hero of Ferelden died. We all heard about it. Mourned it. Right?" she turned to look at Cullen and he couldn't wipe away the sorrow washing across his face.

  He lifted his eyes enough to catch Lana's and her noble cloak vanished instantly, a deep regret replacing it. An overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and remind himself that she was alive overcame him, but he shook it off. Not with Mia here still asking questions. "Yes," he whispered hoarse, "that was my mission. I traveled across thedas to pull Lana from the fade. She was trapped there for two years."

  Lana's eyes slid down, her lips drooping with them as she shuffled on her weary legs. Ignoring his sister's glares, Cullen stepped forward and cupped Lana's hand in his. Together, he helped her return to the couch. "She's still recovering, which is why I haven't returned to Skyhold. I'm helping her heal here, where it's safe and... Mia, we don't want anyone knowing about this. Can you swear to keep it secret?"

  Mia scoffed, her hands slapping against her thighs as she paced, "Keep what secret? You expect me to believe that...? Or the idea that you hadn't planned this lie all to...?" She paused and blinked, then turned back to them, "The Hero of Ferelden was a mage."

  "Indeed I am," Lana said.

  "A mage and a templar," Mia pointed at Cullen and he dipped his chin down.

  "You've sussed out how we met," he said, his fingers still curled around Lana's. For a brief moment her eyes darted up to his and he squeezed her hand tight.

  "You..." Mia seemed at a loss for words, an impressive sight, "You can't be the Hero of Ferelden, she's...she's..."

  "Taller?" Lana said, folding her hands in her lap as she looked up at Mia who kept sliding back and forth. His sister seemed to either want to bow to her or jab a finger in her face and call her a liar.

  "I, that's not," Mia turned to Cullen instead, "You know the Hero of Ferelden?"

  "Yes," he smiled, savoring the shock creeping over Mia's face.

  "Knew a couple times," Lana smiled, then a flush climbed over her face and her jaw dropped open. Crinkling up her nose, she slapped a hand over it, "That wasn't what I meant! I was thinking of, you know, because we keep re-meeting and...oh Maker, I am not doing well."

  While Lana melted into an adorable puddle of blushing, Mia's crossed arms slipped and she watched the imposing woman break down. She looked about to say something to Lana when the door flew open.

  "Oh what now?" Cullen groaned, fully expecting half of the Inquisition to waltz through the door all to gawk at his personal life.

  "M...m...m...Maker," Mia crumbled at the woman filling the doorway, though most of that filling was done courtesy of her three foot tall hat.

  "Hi Leliana," Lana waved nonchalantly, causing Mia's eyes to grow wider as she whipped back from the mage to the Divine.

  "I see there's someone new here," Leliana extended her hand still decorated with the rings of Andraste.

  "Most Holy, I never expected..." Mia tenderly picked up her fingers and gave them a limp shake as if she was terrified she might accidentally rip off Leliana's delicate arm.

  "It's funny how rarely people expect to find me in my own chantry," Leliana chuckled at her.

  "This is my sister, Mia," Cullen filled in for her questioning eyes.

  "Of course, I'd heard mention that someone of your relation was in the area," she smiled at Mia with only beatification, but Cullen glared at her. She bloody well knew about this and didn't think to inform him or Lana for that matter? He was prepared to call her out on it, when Cullen caught the edge of a buried lie in Leliana's eyes. His anger flared out as realization rose, she was playing the game to give the impression the Divine knew all in her house.

  "Your Perfection, it is an honor," Mia continued, unable to release Leliana's hand.

  "I am certain I will feel the same, and while I wish I could stay I'm afraid we're due to an appointment." Leliana managed to yank her arm back with enough grace to make it look natural before she glanced up, "Are you ready, Lanny?"

  "My cloak's by the door, let me grab my cane," Lana said, her fingers drifting under Honor's generous stomach.

  "It's a wonder she doesn't try to eat it half the time," Cullen mused, watching his love fish the cane out and then offer a pat to the dog. "I doubt there's much she loves more than chewing apart every stick in a three mile radius."

  "No," Lana smiled, rubbing Honor's head once more before rising, "I daresay she protects it." Getting the cane under her, Lana rose to her unsteady feet. She got one step in when Honor rose as well. "No girl, you stay here. I won't need you today. Guard Cullen okay, I know you're good at that."

  Woofing once, Honor planted her butt on the ground all but trapping Lana so she couldn't leave. Sighing, Cullen nudged his dog out of the way and swooped a hand around her waist to guide her forward. It was silly, he knew, she could get on without him, but Lana's fingers gripped into his arm and she rose up to kiss him. For a brief moment her eyes darted over his shoulder, no doubt taking note of both women watching, and she planted a kiss on his cheek instead.

  "We might be longer than normal. Leliana mentioned something about a banana, um..."

  "Facial. It's supposed to do wonders to tighten up your skin and give you a radiant glow," the Divine said, her hands folded back into the holy robes.

  Cullen smiled, his lips drifting near the top of Lana's head, "As if you need any help with that."

  Lana chuckled and he spotted a return of her blush. Wiping down her cheeks, she slid past him and reached a hand out to Leliana who took it. Guiding her cane in place, Lana turned to Mia and stuck her hand out, "I'm sorry to have to leave now, but if I miss this appointment I'll be stiff for days. I can answer any questions you have upon my return."

  A breath stuck in his throat as Cullen watched his sister, a part of him certain that she'd scoff or turn away. But Mia took her offered hand and shook it, "Of course. Until then."

  Smiling at her, Lana wrapped her arm around Leliana, waved goodbye to Cullen once more, and then the two of them headed towards the door. In hushed tones that carried across the marble floor, Lana chastised Leliana, "Maker's breath, why are you in that getup?"

  "Because people need to see the Divine moving among them, and I didn't have time to change after services," she added.

  "You're so full of it," Lana laughed back. The door closed, cutting off the rest of their conversation and the apartment fell to silence. It didn't drift lazily above their heads the way a calm stillness would, this beat upon both their brows like an enraged woodpecker.

  Mia blinked madly in their wake, her fingers digging into the air that used to hold the Divine and the Hero of Ferelden's hands. "That was...you know, I mean, I know you knew the Divine but... Is she really the Hero of Ferelden?"

  Sighing, Cullen slid a brotherly hand around her shoulders. "Perhaps we should sit first," he pointed at the breakfast nook and Mia nodded her head. "Would you like something to drink. We have tea, which I think is still warm."

  Dumbstruck, Mia collapsed into the chair, her head buried in her hands. "Yeah, sounds good, but...you better make it the way grandma does. I think I'm gonna need it. The Hero of Ferelden," she groaned at herself.

  Chuckling, Cullen pulled out the only bottle of hard liquor in the house, an Antivan rum courtesy of Isabela and her interesting crew of slave freeing pirates. After topping off his sister's mug and giving himself a little as well, Cullen sat at the table calmly sipping and watching her roll her head in her hands. She'd on occasion ask if Lana was really the Hero of Ferelden, and after his assertion that she was, Mia returned to groaning.

  "It's going to get cold," Cullen pointed out after five minutes of that.

  Sneering, his sister picked up her mug and took a deep swig. After wiping off her mouth, she groaned, "And the bloody Divine too. The two of them,
off right now."

  "Lana and Leliana have been friends since the blight, good friends. It's why we wound up here, among other reasons," Cullen tried to explain. He felt pity for his sister's state, but a part of him reveled in her pain for jumping to such outlandish conclusions.

  "How?" Mia shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, "How do you and Lady Amell... Shit, am I supposed to call her that?"

  "No, Lana's good. I don't actually know what she intends to do about her family name."

  "Because she's still dead as far as everyone else is concerned?" Mia struggled to keep up. At his nod, she collapsed her face onto the table causing Cullen to rise up in shock. He almost reached out to see if she was okay, when a voice moaned from the wood, "Why can't you ever do anything normal in your life?"

  He snickered, leaning back in his chair. "I wonder that as well sometimes," his fingers drifted down and found Honor where she always waited as they ate, right under the table hoping for scraps to magically bounce off her nose. "Lana's worth a bit of strangeness though, more than a bit. I'd..." He screwed up his eyes and shook his head, scattering away the sentiment.

  Even with his best efforts, Mia caught on fast, her head rising off the table, "How long has this been going on between you two?"

  "That's not easy to answer," he said, earning a sneer, but Cullen waved his hands for a mea culpa, "It's the truth. We spoke on occasion in the tower, before she became a warden. But nothing untoward, never. Lana was...I couldn't put her in danger like that and..." Cullen's eyes stared down at his cup and he watched the milk blooming through the sweet browns of the tea, each racing to complete the other.

  "You knew each other in the tower, but then re-met during...oh Maker," Mia threw her head back and her shoulders hunched forward. "I knew something was wrong with you, but no, everyone else kept waving it away saying you were under pressure."

  "What? What do you mean?" he glanced away from his mug to watch his sister scrub down her face then lift her hands to stare at her calluses.

  "And you never said a blighted word, no, not Cullen. Can't let anyone know a thing about his personal life."

  "The stance has served me well," he grumbled, uncertain what had Mia agitated now as she punched blame his way.

  Pulling her hands away, she sat up fully and focused her eternal stare through him, "Did you love her?"

  "What?"

  "When she died, or fell into the fade, or whatever happened..." Mia's glower faded and a pity wiped over it, "were you in tremendous pain because you thought the woman you loved, who saved a nation. No, who saved the world! That she died?"

  "I..." he whipped his head down to glare into his cup, fighting back the stew of emotions. He never wanted to think about Lana's loss without her present. Whenever he felt the prick against his heart and in the back of his mind, he'd look over at her, hold her hand, and remind himself she was here, safe. Even knowing she was in good hands with Leliana, it hurt too much to think about the past.

  Mia reached out, her hands grabbing onto his, "And you didn't tell any of us?"

  "How could I? What would I say? You know how the Hero of Ferelden just sacrificed herself for all of us? I was in love with her. Sorry I never mentioned it before, but we were..." he yanked his hands away to wrap them around the mug, drawing warmth as if he could pull strength from it, "It was complicated. I didn't want to mention our relationship beginning because...I was afraid of what would happen if it all fell apart. Of the pitying looks and attempts by others to replace her. No one can replace Lana."

  Mia's eyes crawled over him, her finger tapping against the handle of her nearly drained mug. "You fell this hard for her in the few months she was with the Inquisition?"

  Cullen whipped up and glared at his sister, "For the Maker's sake, Mia. She..." He sighed, his head slopping forward before continuing, "She's The Mage."

  "Yeah, I understand that now. Also The Warden. The Hero. TheSavior. A lot of Thees in there."

  "No, no," he softly turned his head with each denial, trying to get her to understand, "Lana's 'the mage' the one you and Branson regularly picked on me for. The one I kept mentioning in my letters."

  "She..." that caught her, his sister sliding her chair across the expensive chantry floors and a whine trailing it. "She, the Hero of Ferelden, was that same little mage you would write endlessly about?" He nodded. "By the void, why didn't you say anything? Tell us that the mage was also the woman who ended the blight?"

  "Because," Cullen swallowed, his throat growing scratchier with each word, "I only knew she survived Ostagar when she saved me in the tower from the, from the blood mages and demons." He could feel the raw pain of tears in his eyes but felt no moisture in them. "Lana's the reason I'm alive today, if not for her I, I'd never have survived the tower."

  "Maker's breath," Mia sat back, her face washed white from his truths. She swirled her cup before taking another swig. After swallowing it his sister looked over, "You don't do anything by half measures, do you?"

  Cullen folded his hands on the table, watching the scar along the meat of his thumb on the back of his hand. What was the old saying? I know it like the back of my hand? He'd reached the point in his life where most of his scars were hazy memories, some he knew well, others pasts were gone, lost to the ether to be replaced by other memories. But that one, the white jagged dash he'd never forget.

  It had to have been the end, after at least a week trapped at the whims of the blood mages and their pet demons. He watched as one by one the other templars vanished, either driven mad or killed outright. Somehow Cullen was the only one left in that prison. He tried praying to block the mages penetrating his mind, to find the strength to free himself, and finally, to purge his soul in anticipation of meeting the Maker. They chittered in his brain, taunts of both pain and pleasure, sometimes in the same breath. It fell away to background noise, barely coherent in his exhausted state, when a new voice entered into his head.

  Sweet like watermelon wine on a summer's day, this voice didn't shout at him, didn't leer, didn't unravel his thoughts and lay them bare for judgment. It only cried out for him, worried for him. He didn't believe it, couldn't, and in a desperate grab for his sanity, Cullen wrapped his hands up in prayer so fast his jagged and brittle nails drew a deep line along the back of his hand.

  She spoke to him, promised she'd save him, while blood trickled off his hand but he didn't notice, didn't care. His entire body felt like one long scar, ripped open wide to expose every inch of Cullen. The scar never healing, always weeping across anyone who dared to draw close to him poisoning them they way it did his blood. And now...

  Cullen's eyes drew away from the little scar to his sister, who bullied her way back into his life, for which he was grateful. "Lana's the first woman I've ever loved," he said, earning a 'no kidding' look from Mia, but he wasn't finished. His fingers ran over the scar. He remembered it not from what caused it, but because after she saved him, saved the whole tower, Lana picked him up by his hand, noticed the blood dried across it, and wiped a whisper of her magic against his skin to heal it.

  "And," he smiled, "I hope she's the last woman I ever love."

  Chapter Nine

  Reunion

  "That could have gone worse."

  The Divine's voice floated over the partition between them, a paper thin curtain that gave Lana a view of her reclining silhouette as practiced hands smoothed some mashed fruit concoction over Leliana's body. Lana's limbs felt as if they weighed another fifty pounds each, but a proud exhaustion rolled through her body. She'd lasted twice as long as the first time she swam, even managing to try a little dive here and there. Wrapped in a robe they were keeping back special for the 'friend of the Divine,' Lana watched her pampered toes knock back and forth as she reclined on a padded deck chair.

  "Perhaps I am unfamiliar with worse in Divine speak," Lana said, raising her voice to overcome the partition, "but I'd say having his sister walk in unannounced and threaten to drag him back to Ferelden
is pretty high up there."

  "Nonsense," Leliana scoffed, the silhouette of her hand waving before one of the attendants grabbed it to coat her arm in the mixture. "There were no duels of honor, no one tried to start a war, and no chantry cleric floated the idea of someone faking their death. Maker, I don't know what it is about small town Mothers and faking deaths but that's their answer to every problem."

  "You're being facetious," Lana laughed.

  Leliana yanked back on the curtain revealing her normally spotless visage coated in a disturbingly lumpy green and brown mixture. As she spoke a fruity scent floated off her rather swampy look. "Three different Mothers across Orlais all came up with the same plan to deal with a pair of barely adults who wanted to run away and get married."

  "What did you suggest?"

  "Give them a project that they have to accomplish together; anything that takes two days. Either they'll realize they're young and can't imagine spending the rest of their lives together, or it's true love and marry them without all the simulating death potions. Maker, where do they get these outlandish ideas?"

  "Says the bard," Lana cut back with, folding her fluffy arms across her stomach. She accidentally scattered a cheese plate someone left out for her, not that there was much left on it to scatter.

  "Ha," Leliana leaned back to her chair, but didn't close the curtain, "touché." The attendants pulled out a knife and Lana tensed up, but they only used it to slice apart a hunk of wood and place two wedges over Leliana's eyes. Lana yearned to ask what was the point, but she remembered she was in Val Royeaux; points were beyond Orlesians. Sometimes you did things simply because if you didn't you'd be wrong.