This was another Dragon Age kink meme fill that ran amok, and I never could figure out how to finish it. Today, I woke up wondering what ever happened to poor Cullen and Aurah, and this is what came out. Original prompt is at the bottom. If there are any other Cullen/FemHawke shippers out there like me, this is for you! I hope you enjoy it!

~o~

Bailing out, prisoner before

I knew the score among the dying and the dead.

To see your face, so unexpected.

You are all I see, I love you now and love is always.

How could you be my enemy?

You are all my care and when I sleep, you're everywhere.

It's only you; only you I see.

~You Are All I See, from the musical: Out Of The Blue~

~o~

Cullen raked a hand through his hair and sank down wearily onto his bed. He longed for sleep almost as much as he dreaded it. His quarters were small but private, containing nothing beyond a bed, a small wardrobe for his personal things, and a beat-up desk and chair. The formidable stone structure was nothing new, but the summer heat and humidity added a thickness to the air around him, making the walls damp to the touch.

The Gallows had a very different feel compared to the Circle in Ferelden, somehow more ominous, and since his arrival, his nightmares had returned with a vengeance. It made it much harder to settle in, and the constant fatigue had painted deep shadows under his eyes.

He had already been awake for nearly two days straight in an attempt to avoid what he knew would be lurking just beyond the realm of consciousness. He never told anyone of the things he endured privately since Uldred had imprisoned and tortured him with his demons, and endless attempts to break him to his evil will.

It was painful enough to deal with the memories, without exposing his difficulties to others in the Order who might censure or condemn him for such an abnormality. Or perhaps other templars had dealt with similar occurrences, but he had certainly never heard of any such thing and chose to keep his own council on the matter.

He was well aware of his duty, and would continue to perform it to the best of his abilities. These strange nightmares were just another test of his resolve; one he was determined to win.

He had heard many others whisper about the thinness of the Veil in Kirkwall, and he could well believe it. There was an invisible menace all around, pressing in on him and taunting his senses, sometimes making him second-guess reality. There was nothing for it but to learn to endure, and hope to discover a way to push past the madness he had tried to leave behind in Ferelden.

He pulled open the blankets and lay back, sinking into the welcome feel of mattress and fresh linens. So great was his fatigue, he had even stopped noticing the slightly off, salty-fishy smell that had bothered him so much when he first arrived. It seemed to permeate everything this close to the sea. With a resigned sigh, his eyes drifted shut, and sleep claimed him instantly.

~o~

Cullen opened his eyes to complete blackness and the awareness of something malicious stalking him. How many times had he already fought this battle? Too many to count, certainly. Was there never to be an end to such misery? Was any of this even real?

Fleetingly, he wondered what would happen if he just stopped fighting. Gave up. Gave in. Maybe it didn't matter what you did in a dream. He was so very weary…

He felt for the sword he instinctively knew would be at his hip, and slid it as silently from the sheathe as he could, holding it at the ready.

Burning heat exploded against his bare shoulder, and he grunted in pain as something hard and blunt connected with the back of his neck. He spun and sliced at empty air, snarling in frustration.

"Show yourself, foul creature! Face me as you ought! You take the part of coward by hiding. I will defeat you, if it's the last thing I do."

A sinister, gloating laugh completely devoid of humor sounded all around him, and he spun again, trying to peer into the oppressively inky darkness.

"How will you challenge that which you cannot even look on, pitiful mortal?" Came a sibilant voice, grating on the ears. "Your attempts to gather courage each time you come to me are delicious. Would it not be easier to admit defeat and the futility of your struggle? Despair is the tastiest meal to my kind."

He turned another full circle, stumbling slightly on the uneven surface beneath his bare feet. Frustration rose at the mocking words of his tormentor. If only he could see his foe!

No sooner had the thought formed, when a bright burst of light illuminated the small clearing where Cullen stood. He threw up his free hand to shield his eyes from the sudden onslaught, blinking and looking around quickly to get his bearings.

He watched in astonishment as a young woman held a staff high up in front of her, running toward a small, shrunken husk of some strange animal-like thing he had never previously beheld.

It was round, four-legged, and covered in thick, matted fur. It's head was lumpy and misshapen, its' eyes small, weeping pustules, wholly evil. It was easily the most grotesque looking creature he had ever beheld.

"No! You are not supposed to be here. None may interrupt my meal…"

The woman stabbed the bladed end of her weapon into its' chest, and the thing shrieked in an unholy wail of sorrow. The woman growled and withdrew the blade, plunging it determinedly into the black maw. The sound faded at the same time the ugly animal disappeared.

A burst of blue light flowed outward from her open palm and Cullen found he was able to breathe freely, the previously unnoticed constriction around his chest gone. He watched this new arrival warily, but gulped in several deep breaths while she turned to regard him.

She extended her arm and her staff disappeared while she walked toward him, but the strange blue light that had enveloped the area lingered. She took several more steps toward him, and he became alarmed when he realized she was very striking in appearance. Another trap!

He pointed his sword at her. "Stay back, demon! You may take on the form of a beautiful woman, yet I will not be fooled, nor will I give in to temptation. I know of desire demons all too well. You cannot ensnare me by such means."

The woman paused, looking puzzled as he spoke, then crossed her arms and laughed. "Oh, that's rich! You think I'm a demon of desire?" She snickered. "I'm not sure if I should feel complimented or insulted. I'm certainly more tastefully attired than those tacky spirits."

His sword wavered slightly, his brows lifting in surprise as she turned to point to where the creature had been. "That was a demon of despair, by the way, and I just saved you. You're quite welcome."

She tapped her booted foot against the rocky ground while he stared, and she stared boldly back at him. She wore a full set of light leather armor that emphasized her curvaceous figure, while he was clad in nothing but a pair of dirty linen breeches. He blushed when her eyes roamed across his bare chest, her lips twisting in a smirk.

He straightened his shoulders, resisting the urge to squeeze his free hand into a fist. "I cannot trust anything you say, temptress. I know this is the Fade, although I don't know why I continue to come here fully aware."

She pursed her lips and considered. "Well, to begin with, I'm a mage, not a demon or temptress, sorry to disappoint. But I don't think you belong here, do you? I take it you aren't a mage from your complete lack of any ability to bend the Fade to your will…"

He shook his head, scowling, finally lowering his sword, but maintaining his alertness. "I'm no mage. I'm a templar. One of the mages summoned demons in the Circle where I was formerly assigned. They…did things to me. I have often been tormented in this waking dream by all manner of evil spirits since that time, whenever I seek sleep."

Throwing back her head, the woman laughed heartily. "A templar? By the Maker! Do your kind even pursue me here? I thought the Fade was entirely templar-free. It's what I like best about it."

Cullen frowned. "What do you mean? Templars only pursue maleficar and apostates."

She bowed with a flourish. "How do you do, Ser Templar? You have an apostate to thank for saving you from being gradually devoured by despair."

He sheathed his sword slowly, grimacing from the pain of the burn across his back and the blow he had taken against his neck. Her teasing smile faded and she stepped closer, a crease of concern marring the smoothness of her brow.

"You're injured, I see. I can heal it for you. Pain here feels just as real as pain in the waking world."

He hesitated, still uncertain if he should trust her, although he could sense no evil or dark magic around her.

She rolled her eyes and laid a hand on his arm lightly. "If I try to harm you, you are more than welcome to skewer me with that sword of yours."

He clenched his jaw and stood stoically, noting how gently she touched him, and the heat and softness of her skin against his.

Healing flowed across his injuries like a warm, soothing bath, and he released a small sigh of relief. Her touch was careful, and he imagined he caught a whiff of sweet honeysuckle, like a bright summer day. It stirred a memory from his childhood of running carefree in his mother's garden, with a hot wind blowing through his hair.

She cleared her throat and stepped away. "All done. That should be more comfortable until you awaken. Pain dreams are no treat for anyone, I daresay."

Cullen blushed, awkward without an enemy to confront, and feeling desperately out of place amidst the hazy surroundings. "I must thank you for your assistance, Miss…?"

She gnawed the inside of her cheek. "You can call me Aurah, although I doubt we shall ever meet again…unless you intend to start patrolling the Fade, Ser Templar?"

He laughed softly and rolled his shoulder, some of the tension finally easing from his muscles. "No, that isn't on the agenda, I assure you." He hesitated briefly. "My name is Cullen."

Aurah nodded and smiled slightly. "I'm glad I decided to wander the Fade tonight, instead of staying in my usual spot." She winked. "Even if I did end up saving a templar. I can't be expected to get everything right." Summoning her staff again, she gave a little wave. "I suppose I shall take my leave."

He stepped toward her. "Wait! May I…accompany you? I really have no idea where I am or what to do here."

She shrugged. "As long as you don't mind fighting more demons. That's what usually happens when I wander. The stubborn spirits never learn they cannot bend me to their will, yet they never stop trying." Studying her nails nonchalantly, she continued. "My brother always claims I'm a beacon for danger, but I think he's just jealous of all the fighting I inspire."

Cullen jogged up next to her, then glanced down ruefully. "I certainly don't mind fighting demons, but I do wish I were more appropriately attired for the task."

She stopped and turned to face him, grinning. "Yes, I see your point. Although I wouldn't usually object to handsome, bare-chested men in my dreams, I suppose in this case I must make an exception."

She extended her hands to him, palms up and he looked at her in confusion. "Take my hands and close your eyes," she instructed. "You have a very strong will to be so aware here, so I think this should work. It's worth a try, anyway."

Cullen placed his hands in hers, struggling to keep his face impassive when she wrapped her fingers around his. "Now close your eyes and picture yourself clad as you normally are when going into battle. See each separate piece of armor and what weapons you usually carry."

His forehead crinkled in concentration as he focused on her instructions, until she softly commanded him to open his eyes again. He looked down to see the familiar armor of Knight-Captain and glanced back at his sword and shield clasped to his back.

Aurah rested a hand on her hip, raising a dubious brow. "That's rather foreboding armor, from my point of view. I daresay I preferred you the other way, but that's neither here nor there. You must be someone important in your Order."

"My current rank is Knight-Captain," he said quietly.

"Lovely, I caught a Knight-Captain." She frowned and shook her head with a sigh. "Well, shall we wander and see what trouble finds us? It can hardly get worse."

Cullen fell into step beside her, each footfall making the soft clank of metal echo around them. "Do you often find such difficulties with demons?"

She shot him a reproving glance. "I'm in no danger of turning into some crazed abomination, if that's what you're implying. And yes, trouble seems to find me whether in the Fade or the waking world." She smirked. "I found you, didn't I?"

"I suppose you did at that," he mumbled, intrigued by the strange mage, and no longer quite as eager to awaken as he had been.

"So, you're an apostate? You sound Ferelden." He gave her another appraising look, his eyes sweeping her form.

"Hmm." She twisted her wrist, slowly rotating her staff as they walked. "I am Ferelden, but if you're thinking of hunting me, you won't find me there. I left and went elsewhere during the Blight, and no, I won't tell you where I live now."

He smiled, amused by her flippant words, and looked at the strange landscape. It was a great deal like the inside of Kinloch Hold, although the staircases were upside down, leading to nowhere, and doors were placed ten feet from the floor. Cullen shook his head and looked at Aurah who was grinning at him.

"This is obviously something out of your head. I've never been anywhere that looked remotely like this."

"This is the Circle Tower in Ferelden. Well,- - a version of it." He gave her a strange look. "Do you mean to say you've never been in a Circle of Magi, not ever?"

Aurah shook her head. "I've seen one from the outside, but I've never been a prisoner, no. It is possible for a mage to live happy and free, you know. I'll admit that's not true for every person with magic, but I was trained by a very excellent man who was a powerful mage."

She stopped walking and faced him, her blue eyes boring into him intently. "If I thought I would be a danger to anyone around me, I would turn myself in. As it is, I use my magic for good. I help people, and I would never dabble in forbidden magics."

He shook his head. "Good intentions aside, that doesn't change the fact that…"

A chill went down his spine and she held up a finger to her lips indicating a need for silence. She took his hand to pull him behind an outcropping of rock down a side path that lead away from the faux tower.

A powerful blast knocked both of them to the ground, and a rage demon rose before them, the scalding heat of the molten fire he moved in radiating all around them.

Aurah cursed and scrambled to her feet, reaching for her staff when the demon disappeared and came up behind her, locking her in its grip.

"You are mine, mortal! I will see the world through your eyes and wield your power."

"As if I haven't heard that line before, demon," Aurah said through gritted teeth.

Cullen bashed his shield at the demon's head, causing it to release the hold it had on Aurah. With an angry cry, she spun and the air chilled, the demon encased entirely in ice. Swinging his sword in a powerful downward strike, Cullen shattered the demon into pieces.

Pushing the dark, sweaty hair out of her eyes, Aurah laughed breathlessly. "Not bad, templar. I think you just might prove a useful companion to have around."

Cullen grinned and inclined his head, feeling a little light-headed as the rush of adrenaline faded. "As odd as all this is, I'm glad to be able to meet an enemy head-on again."

Prodding a chunk of demony ice with her booted foot, Aurah looked at him through her lashes. "Stick around. I have a feeling we're just getting started…"

~o~

The Knight-Captain's eyes opened slowly to his quarters in the Gallows, a renewed vitality pumping through his veins. He felt well rested for the first time in months. Pushing himself upright, he tossed off his blankets and padded to the small desk in the corner of the room.

Real or not, these were strange goings-on, and he intended to carefully document everything he could recall. His lids fluttered closed, while he let his mind's eye linger across the features of the dream woman.

Aurah.

Opening his eyes again, he wrote her name, then ended up sketching a rough portrait of her, time slipping past unnoticed as the striking face took shape before him. It had been a long time since he had done any sort of drawing.

He used to enjoy using colored chalks to recreate people or places he had seen. It had seemed an unnecessary indulgence for a warrior, so he left it behind when he joined the templars, but he found himself strangely happy to rediscover that part of himself again. The dream he still recalled inspired him. She inspired him.

Cullen frowned unconsciously as he examined the completed face on the parchment before him with a critical eye. How long had it been since anything inspired him? Since he was motivated by something beyond duty and obligation and enjoyed one of life's simple pleasures?

Too long.

He stared for another moment, eyes lingering, before he placed the carefully wrought image under a stack of papers in the bottom drawer of his desk, careful not to cause any damage to his work. He had a feeling he would find an excuse to pull it out again very soon.

~o~

Cullen walked slowly along the neatly assembled row of templar recruits, all standing smartly to attention for his inspection. He was silent and still another minute, watching to see which ones fidgeted the most.

When he was a recruit, his class had to stand for hours at attention, perfectly still, while the captain looked on. A templar's duty consisted of ninety-five percent boredom, and five percent sheer, heart-stopping terror. Those that seemingly couldn't take the endless hours of tedium had to be taught otherwise, or weeded out early to prevent the risk of weakening the Order.

He nodded to Ser Thrask, who barked out a curt dismissal. A quiet murmur of conversation rose, as those in training headed for the evening meal in the dining hall. Cullen could smell they were being served fish again, and felt what appetite he had flee on the wind. What he wouldn't give for a good, hearty serving of Ferelden lamb and pea stew, with large chunks of meat thick with gravy!

He would be off duty soon and debated whether or not he should go into the city long enough to eat something a little more appetizing. With so many of his fellow countrymen turning refugee in an attempt to escape the Blight, a number of eating establishments in the less savory part of town catered solely to Ferelden taste buds. His mouth watered at the thought, even as he realized Thrask was speaking to him. Shaking his head to refocus, he cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, Ser Thrask, you were saying?"

Thrask gave him a strange look and began again. "We are missing two of our recruits this evening. I don't know what mischief they are off getting into, but this isn't the first time it's happened. Do you think I should question the others and see if I can discover their location? Clearly, we cannot let this go unanswered."

Cullen sighed, a headache blossoming behind his eyes. "No, you're right. Discipline demands action in this case. Do what you feel is necessary to nip this in the bud, and report to me as soon as you learn more."

"Of course, Knight-Captain." He hesitated. "I'll speak to Wilmod at dinner. He always seems to know what's what."

"I'm planning to go into the city for the evening, so you can check in with me in the morning."

With a nod of acknowledgement, Thrask set off and Cullen turned to go to his quarters. Normally, he would just wear his templar armor and trappings without a second thought, but Kirkwallers seemed to be unusually hostile toward the Order. Since he just wanted a bit of relaxing anonymity and a good meal, he would change to plain clothing.

An hour later, he hopped nimbly off the boat and climbed the dock steps, setting off for what he hoped would be a pleasant respite from his usual routine.

"Come over here, love! I got just what you need betwixt me thighs to keep ya company and chase away the night chill. For a handsome man like you, I've a special price... only five bits will buy ya bliss."

Cullen sped his steps rather than answer the woman's call. He had little experience with such types before coming to the Free Marches, but he had since learned it was best not to even react to their leering taunts.

Loping up more stairs, he ended up turned around and traveling through a darkened alley, a loud shout in the distance catching his attention and drawing him forward out of curiosity.

"Good one, Hawke! That's the last we'll see of those bastards. Let's get outta here and claim the reward."

A feminine laugh sent Cullen's blood racing through his veins with the oddest sensation of déjà vu, and the next words spoken increased the feeling.

"Ah, Varric, that's what I love about you. Always keeping your priorities straight."

The conversation came fainter and fainter, and Cullen broke into a sprint like a man possessed, desperate to see the face that went with that voice. Was he imagining things, or had he truly gone mad at last?

When he turned down a dead end and knew his chance had slipped away, he snarled a curse under his breath, which was shocking behavior for a man who dedicated his life to always saying and doing the right thing.

His fist connected with the stone wall beside him, the pain helping to return his focus. He drew several cleansing breaths, squared his shoulders, and set off to find something to distract him from the clawing in his gut that had little to do with appetite.

~o~

After finding both of his favorite eating establishments already closed, he really thought he should have stayed at the Gallows and just eaten fish. How hard could a decent meal be to come by?

A welcome aroma of cooking meat wafted on the Lowtown breeze, and Cullen followed the scent to a small street vendor selling skewers of meat and vegetables. Luck, at last!

He handed over the required amount of coin to the man tending the stand, and nearly moaned aloud when the juices of succulent beef flowed across his tongue and delighted his taste buds.

The man watched him with a grin. "It's good, eh? These Marchers don't know the first thing about how to cook beef. You can't cover it up in too much seasonin', you have to let the meat speak for itself."

Cullen nodded and grunted around another mouthful of his blessedly greasy repast. The man chuckled and flipped another skewer of meat over on his small grill. "Yep, we Fereldens know how to do it right. We got the best people too. Not only is the Hero who stopped the Blight one of our own, but we got Hawke right here among us, to look out fer her fellow countrymen."

Finally swallowing, Cullen glanced up. "Who is this Hawke you speak of? I'm not familiar with the name." Even as the words left his mouth, he was thinking of the voice he had followed earlier. Hadn't the man called the woman Hawke?

Leaning forward, the man pitched his voice lower. "They say she's a powerful mage, just like the Hero of Ferelden, and she fights for common folk. I never been one for superstitions like them Chantry types always preach, that all mages are bad. That's just rubbish, it is." He spat to the side. "I don't see them high and mighty templars doing a damn thing to protect the people and clean up the streets like Hawke does. I say actions speak louder than words."

Cullen froze mid-bite, and the man looked around with a shade of concern. "Just you keep that bit of information quiet though, eh? I can tell you're a good Ferelden lad, and we don't want the only friend our kind has got in this city to wind up locked in them Gallows." He rubbed a work-roughened hand across his jaw. "We need a bit of hope in these times, or what's left for us unfortunates to cling to, eh? What you say, lad?"

Slowly nodding his agreement, Cullen's brow furrowed. "No, you're right. We do need a bit of hope. Do you know what this Hawke looks like?"

"Never seen her. I don't know any as has, but the rumors are all around, and you can't argue with the good that's happened since the stories started flying about." The man gave Cullen a friendly whack on the shoulder and smiled again. "Can I get you another one, lad?"

Cullen bought three more to carry back to the Gallows with him, hardly noticing his surroundings when he walked back down to the docks. He had already tripped in the shadowed dark and just managed to recover his footing when he saw the bodies- half a dozen, at least, and the corpses were burned and the air rife with discharged magic. Troubled, he stood debating on whether to just report it to the city guard, or bring it to Meredith's attention.

He should probably do both, but he decided he would say nothing of the gossip he had heard. Not yet. Cullen needed to know more about this mysterious Hawke before he decided on what would be the appropriate action to take.

~o~

It took several hours to update the Knight-Commander on his disturbing discovery, deal with the city guard who were tasked with the disposal of the bodies, and attempt to locate any witnesses.

There were none, or none who would come forward, and he was a little surprised to learn how common an occurrence such things seemed to be. How many illegal mages were there in Kirkwall, and how many of them were currently employed by the local gangs?

Such a thing would never have been tolerated in Ferelden. Cullen wondered what exactly he'd gotten into with this new posting; and Meredith seemed so competent too. He was rather glad he was ultimately not the one in charge.

If the determined look on the Knight-Commander's face was any indication, he, and the knights under his command would soon be spending more of their time hunting in dark streets and back alleys in a firm attempt to deal with wayward apostates.

Making it back to his room, he undressed slowly, debating with himself as to whether or not he should drag out the portrait he had made, and finally decided to. It wasn't as if anyone could see him obsessing over the image of a non-existent woman.

He shook his head at his own foolishness, but it didn't stop him from carrying out his task. He took the picture out daily. Gazing on it was like a persistent itch that had to be scratched. It was a harmless enough thing, and surely nothing to feel guilty about.

Setting it atop the desk, he moved several feet back and let his eyes go slightly unfocused while he stared at the picture. He had added color since he had made the initial sketch, and from the corner of his eye, it almost looked real.

Sighing, he tucked it safely away again, doused the light and crawled into bed. He had experienced no nightmares since the time he had dreamed of the pretty mage, but nor had he been able to force his mind to call her up again in sleep.

He lay on his back and closed his eyes, willing rest and dreams to come. Reciting verses of the Chant always helped him drift off, and his lips moved automatically as he whispered the familiar words in the dark.

"Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,

I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm.

I shall endure.

What you have created, no one can tear asunder."

"Blessed are they who stand before

The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

He yawned widely, the tension from the long day draining away, and continued.

"Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.

In their blood the Maker's will is written."

His breathing grew slow and steady as he finally drifted off.

~o~

Cullen blinked in surprise to find himself standing in an enchanted-looking glade, surrounded by tall trees. Only the strange ambient light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere gave evidence that it was the Fade he found himself in; once again wakeful and aware.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite templar, come to visit me in my private abode. I would love to know how you managed that little trick. I thought this place was impenetrable."

He turned and saw Aurah lying in comfortable repose on her back, amidst thick, green grass, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and amusement. It was impossible to stop the wide grin which spread across his face at the sight of her, or the instant rush of inexplicable happiness.

"I thought you might like some help fighting more spirits," he quipped in an off-hand tone.

She laughed and turned to prop the side of her head against her fist. "I never fight demons in a dress, Cullen, it tends to limit maneuverability."

Belatedly, he realized she was wearing a gauzy dress of pale green that almost allowed her to blend in with the lush carpet of grass surrounding her, but did nothing to disguise her feminine allure.

The bodice was form-fitting and showed the creamy tops of her breasts rising like half moons on the horizon. He gulped audibly when he realized his eyes had lingered there long enough for her to notice. Mercifully, she said nothing to tease him, although the slight quirk of her brow left him in no doubt that she had taken notice of his blatant interest.

Patting the ground beside her, she winked. "Come and sit with me. I've never had a companion appear in my little hideaway before. Truth be told, I was really wishing for some company."

She smiled, but a shadow of sarcasm filled her eyes. "I may actually be convinced to forgive you for your inconvenient disappearance last time, right when that desire demon showed up. I had to fight her all alone, and you were the one she came for."

He walked over to her and folded his long legs to sit beside her. "It was not my choice to awaken when I did. Recall I told you I have no control over when I come here nor how long I will linger when I do. This is the first time I have returned since then."

Her lashes lowered over her eyes. "I see. You must be sorry to find yourself stuck with an apostate again."

"No!" He answered quickly. "Not at all, I was wanting to see you. To be with you. I mean, hoping to speak. To converse." He sighed and looked up to where the sky should be, feeling a hot blush color his face.

"I apologize; I turn into an idiot when I try to talk to a beautiful woman." He smiled ruefully down into her smirking face, slowly reaching out to brush a lock of her dark hair from her forehead. "Even when the woman is just an impossible figment of my imagination I've dreamed up to torture myself."

Aurah pushed herself up into a sitting position, bringing their faces closer together. Cullen again noticed the faint scent of honeysuckle and leaned nearer to inhale the fragrance.

So close to her he could feel the heat from her body; see the few faint freckles across her cheeks and nose and the tiny line of a scar near her bottom lip. The same electric tension and attraction he was aware of at their previous meeting crackled invisibly between them.

A quick, impish grin was the only warning he had before she attacked him, her nimble fingers dancing across his ribs and taking advantage of the fact that he wore no armor.

A shout of surprise and then helpless laughter rose from the pit of his stomach. She was tickling him! Exactly what kind of dream was this?

Cullen batted her hands away, going on the offensive and quickly discovering she was just as susceptible as he was, although much louder and more humorous in her protests. They rolled across the grass, laughing and tussling until he wrestled her beneath him and pinned her wrists on either side of her head.

"I have you now, my mischievous mage," he stated triumphantly.

Aurah gasped for air, forcing words out between unstoppable giggles. "You have an unfair advantage with all your muscles, templar. If I were not feeling so generous I would paralyze you with a spell."

"And I would just drain you," he murmured.

The easy, shared laughter died away when their eyes locked, and Cullen became acutely aware of her soft body pressed against him and the tousled locks of hair that fanned across the grass and around her shoulders.

Desire and longing pierced him like a sharpened sword. Things he had often wished for, but never been able to have, rose up to taunt him. He had always resisted when it really mattered, but did it matter if he resisted now? What harm could come from a small indulgence in a dream? None of this was real, even if it felt like it.

Leaning down, he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. They were soft and moist and parted immediately, welcoming his tongue into a different kind of duel that was as much give as take.

He released her wrists so he could touch her face and her hands flew up to tunnel into his hair and sweep down his back, scratching against the cloth there.

Aurah kissed him with wild abandon and it caused his own lustful hunger to grow ever more desperate. His fingers skimmed her ribs and after only the barest hesitation, closed over her breast, his thumb brushing across the stiffened nipple he could feel through the gauzy bodice.

With a loud moan, she moved her hips restlessly beneath him, grinding the apex of her sex against his rock-hard erection and nearly making him spill inside his breeches. He moved his hand down to still her hips and stop her, but she had adjusted her position to her liking, locking her legs around him and moving against his erection rhythmically. Her vocalizations grew more and more urgent against his lips as he never ceased to kiss her.

Recognizing his own point of no return was imminent from their mutual friction, he stopped fighting it and started moving with her, groaning and ripping up the handful of grass he had clutched, when she wailed and arched her back, trembling in exhausted completion while he rode his own waves of bliss.

He closed his eyes and let his head sag against her shoulder while his thudding pulse calmed and a peaceful euphoria lulled him into a trance-like state, only broken by the sound of her voice. The last thing he remembered before he awoke, were her whispered words and hot breath against his ear.

"If I'm your fantasy, Cullen, then you're mine."

~o~

Aurah grunted in pain, her eyes opening to Carver's disapproving face above her lumpy cot. She rubbed at her sleep-crusted lashes and glared at him.

"Did you have to punch me to wake me up? My shoulder will be bruised for a week, you lout. I was having a good dream too." She gingerly kneaded her throbbing arm, not only annoyed at being woken in such a way, but also at the loss of such a sweet respite from the danger and drudgery of everyday life.

He crossed his arms and scowled. "I barely tapped you. If I had really punched you, you'd be on the floor, unconscious. Besides, you should thank me for waking you before mother heard the noises you were making." He looked away, clearly uncomfortable, and muttered under his breath as he turned to walk out, "Maker, I didn't know girls would have those kinds of dreams, much less my own sister."

Slapping a hand over her face, Aurah yanked her blanket over her head and waited for her cheeks to cool and her embarrassment to fade before she rose to face the new day.

~o~

Many months passed in Kirkwall, and the Knight-Captain actively lived two very different lives. One of honor and duty during the day when he was about Templar business, and another very secret one, of affection and fulfillment in his private dreams at night.

He no longer questioned what was real and what wasn't. The dark circles under his eyes were no more. He accepted the unexpected comfort of his Fade woman as a gift from the Maker. Aurah was his treasure, known only to him. He shared all his wishes, his long-buried private hopes with her, he even told her of all the things he had suffered in Ferelden, when he had never fully disclosed all the details to anyone else.

She shed tears for him that he had never bothered to shed for himself. It made him love her all the more; and he did love her- often, thoroughly, and at every opportunity. He expressed it through the physical act, although that wasn't entirely real in the Fade either, but near enough that neither of them cared; and he told her in words, over and over, just to see her smile. It was a fulfilling communion between them and more than he ever expected he would be able to experience. It was the closest thing to genuine happiness he had ever known.

If his time in the Fade was a kind of madness, it was one he was only too grateful to have been afflicted with.

~o~

Cullen jogged down the steps to the Alienage, his eyes flicking left and right in quick assessment of the scene before him. There were bodies piled off to one side that had obviously been moved from where they had fallen, and curious elves huddled around in small groups, speaking quietly.

Several city guardsman were spread among the crowd, solely for the purpose of keeping order while the Templars conducted their investigation. Any crime involving magic automatically fell under the authority of the Order.

He could sense faint wisps of magic in the air, but this was worse, darker. Blood magic, he thought grimly, recognizing the familiar crawling sensation up his spine of demonic taint. Thrask turned from where he had been speaking with two elves, who looked shaken and upset, and approached Cullen.

"Knight-Captain, I've spoken to several witnesses and have managed to loosely piece together what happened." At Cullen's nod for him to continue, he laid out the facts.

"Apparently, there were a group of slavers…" he paused to sweep a hand toward the bodies, "who had their eyes on a number of young elves and attempted to take them. Before they could complete their task, they were interrupted by another group, led by a woman. The woman and her comrades killed all the slavers, down to the last man; including two blood mages."

Cullen crossed his arms, a concerned frown on his face. "How many of the second group were slain? Are there any alive we can question?"

Ser Thrask shook his head. "The second group lost none, and they are nowhere to be found, which is not surprising. The woman who leads them is an apostate. It seems she goes around dispensing vigilante justice on behalf of the poor and the helpless in Kirkwall. She has earned the loyalty of the common folk, even the elves, and they protect her."

Thrask pressed his lips together. "All I have questioned claim not to know of her whereabouts, and even the descriptions of her appearance are conflicting. The only thing I have been able to ascertain with a fair amount of certainty is that it is indeed a woman, an apostate, and she goes by the name of Hawke."

Cullen looked at Thrask sharply. "What of the ones who follow her? Do you know how many there are and if they are all apostates?"

"If I had to venture a guess, perhaps a dozen or more, but I'm not sure." Thrask shook his head and frowned. "From tavern gossip, I have occasionally heard mention of a sword fighter and possibly an archer who follow her, but such tales are so fantastic and embellished, I cannot credit them as truth."

Rubbing his forehead, Cullen sighed. "What do they say she does that is so difficult to believe?"

Raising a brow, Thrask cleared his throat. "I have heard that she rides dragons across Sundermount, and that she single-handedly slew several ogres when fleeing Ferelden during the Blight. Those are some of the tamer stories going around."

Cullen chuckled, more amused than he had any right to be when listening to rumors that glorified an illegal mage. "Clearly, we need reliable information before we can pursue this almighty Hawke, and I'm sure the tavern is not the place to find it. Still, at least she seems to be helping. One day soon, she will slip up and we'll have her."

Thrask glanced down, frowning. "It's a pity we couldn't have such a mage working with us. Just imagine what might be accomplished if we were able to join forces instead of being at odds."

Cullen narrowed his eyes at his fellow Templar. "I fear you are mistaken if you think such a thing possible. It is a naïve dream to imagine mages and Templars as allies, and such dreams have no place in reality. Remember your duty, Ser Thrask."

Thrask nodded and gave a crisp salute. "Of course, Knight-Captain."

Cullen clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Finish up here, then take men and do a sweep of the Darktown tunnels, there have been more reports of apostates spotted there. Dismissed."

Retracing his steps, Cullen left the Alienage behind and headed for the Chantry. He needed to know more about this Hawke, and he knew just who to ask.

~o~

The grubby little boy known only as Bo swung his bare feet, knocking his heels against the stone of the Chantry stairwell while he sat balanced on the wall, wolfing down the savory steak and kidney pie Cullen had given him, scarcely bothering to chew.

He squinted at the Templar in front of him, shaking the uneaten half of the pie at him while he swallowed. "Why you wanna know 'bout her? She done summat wrong, eh?"

Cullen shook his head. "You needn't worry. I don't intend to do her any harm, but I do need to speak with her. If you tell me what you know…" He dangled a parcel filled with every kind of tart the Hightown baker had in his shop that day, the aroma wafting toward the boy who reached for it greedily. Snatching it just out of reach, Cullen shook his head. "No reward without information."

Bo huffed, taking another big bite of his pie and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He gave the Knight-Captain a shrewdly assessing look which seemed out of place on his young face. "I can tell ya where I sees her go sometimes, yeh? Not many as know of it on account of it bein' a secret and all, but I knows it."

Cullen reached into a hidden pocket inside his tunic and drew out a silver coin. "Take me there, and you can have this and the tarts."

Finishing his pie, Bo dusted his hands off and jumped down from the wall. "Right, gov, I'll take ya, but ya gotta give me one a them tarts first. In case I die, I don't wanna do it on a empty stomach, see?"

Shaking his head and smiling, Cullen gave him the parcel and tousled his messy brown mop of hair. Bo dodged sideways. "Eh now! I 'ad it like that on purpose."

They fell into step together, walking down the many steps to Lowtown. "You know, Bo, you really should let the Chantry take you in. There's regular meals, a bed of your own…"

"Rules, rules, and sermons," Bo continued with a grin. "I do jus fine on me own, gov, I don't need no lady hens clucking over me. Come on, we got to take the darker tunnels to get there."

~o~

Aurah rubbed at her aching temples. She was supposed to be leaving for the Deep Roads bright and early the next morning and what had she spent half the previous night doing? Fighting slavers, naturally. All for a good cause, of course, but her body didn't seem to care, and kept insisting it be given a rest.

She flexed her sore arm that not even Anders healing had been able to cure fully and sighed. She really needed sleep badly, but with little time left to prepare, she could hardly afford the luxury. Which was why she had walked all the way down to Xenon's lair to purchase one of his more potent pick-me-up potions.

She hoped it worked in the literal sense, in case her legs decided to give out on her before she could make it home. She put out a hand to push the door open to exit Xenon's and stumbled forward when she met only empty air, then crashed face-first into hard metal, bumping her nose. The precious potion flew from her hand to shatter on the hard ground.

Fatigue, pain, and annoyance combined to make her growl loudly and shove against the person who was blocking her path. "You clumsy buffoon! Look what you did. Do you have any idea how much that Rejuvenation potion cost?"

She looked down at the wet remains of her lost potion in dismay and half turned to go back and ask for another when the young boy stepped into the dim light from the single lantern on the path.

"Bo, what are you doing down here?" she asked with a frown, a second before her chin was seized in a tight grip, forcing her face up toward the light to meet an astonished pair of green eyes.

"Aurah, you're real?" he gasped in shock.

Her eyes grew impossibly wide. "Cullen! You're….you're here? Or am I suddenly dreaming again?"

A dirty hand thrust up between them. "I dunno why you'd dream this up, but I'll take that silver now, gov, like ya promised."

Keeping his eyes trained on the face he knew better than his own, Cullen fished out the coin and handed it to the boy. He scarcely registered the sound of small feet moving away before he seized her face in both hands and kissed her with many months worth of desperation. It was nothing like the hazy shadow-feeling of kissing in the Fade, but sharp, vibrant and alive, the taste of her tongue against his more arousing than anything he had ever experienced. Her familiar sweet scent of honeysuckle wafted around him.

A snickering laugh floated from further up the passage. "I'm glad e's your friend like he said, Hawke, I don't want Varric to come after me fer snitchin' ya to a Templar." The laughter faded away and Cullen pulled back when the words filtered into his muddled mind, pushing her away but keeping his hands on her shoulders, as though afraid she would disappear if he wasn't touching her.

"You're the one? You're Hawke?" he asked skeptically. "The Hawke? The apostate that supposedly rides dragons and kills ogres?"

Her eyes slowly lost the soft cloudiness of desire raised by his kisses, and regained their focus at his words. She chuckled nervously under his incredulous gaze. It was disconcerting enough to bump into your imaginary lover, discover he was real and kissing you senseless, then have him demand to know who you really are. Aurah cleared her throat and attempted to order her thoughts.

"Well, those stories are exaggerated, you understand. I've only ridden one dragon, although I have killed a few, and she isn't really a dragon, anyway…at least, I don't think she is...only when she wants to be, really. Actually, I'm not entirely certain what she is, to be honest."

She frowned and shook her head. "But I did kill an ogre after it took my sister's life. I thought I told you about that, but maybe not? It was just the one though, and I had help. Does that clarify things?"

Cullen stood perfectly still, listening to her ramble on as she sometimes did when flustered, wondering what exactly his duty was in this instance. Now that he knew she was the apostate he had been seeking, did he take her to the Gallows, or turn a blind eye? What was right? His stomach clenched at the thought of what Meredith might do to her. It would be torture to have her so near him and be unable to touch her or acknowledge their relationship in any way.

How was it even possible that she was real? After everything they had said and done in the Fade, the things they had told each other, the desires they shared… He blushed and looked down, recognizing the same leathers she wore the time she saved him from the demon. How could he reconcile what he had thought was a figment of his imagination and a somewhat notorious outlaw apostate into one, real-life woman. A mage. A mage he had never met in person, but who he was in love with…

He glanced up when she fell silent to find her watching him curiously. Slowly, she lifted her hand to stroke his cheek. Tenderly, deliberately, he turned his head to press a kiss to her palm. She sucked in a breath, her eyes wide in wonder.

"I wasn't entirely sure you were real either, Ser Templar, I only wished you were. What now?"

Brushing his fingers through her dark hair he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I don't know, but I'm sure we'll think of something." Her pulled her tight against him and kissed the crown of her head.

Someone loudly cleared their throat and Aurah whipped her head around to see Varric standing with Bianca held before him in a loose grip, Carver and Fenris standing on opposite sides of the dwarf in silent menace.

"A little birdie told me a certain kind of person came down here looking for you, Hawke," Varric said with a smirk. "Need a little help?"

Carver pulled his great sword from his back and stepped forward. "Take your hands off my sister, templar, and I'll grant you the mercy of a quick death."

Fenris didn't draw his own weapon but crossed his arms and scowled. "This was a fool's errand. I do not think he holds her against her will."

Aurah stepped forward with a smile, placing herself between Cullen and her protective brother and friends. "It's fine, boys. We were just having a friendly chat. Cullen and I have known each other for a while. We met, uh…"

"In the Fade, oddly enough," Cullen said quietly, coming to stand beside her. "Aurah saved me from a demon's torment. I am greatly indebted to her."

Aurah smiled weakly and looked at her brother, his face screwed up in disgust. "In the Fade? Is that why you were making all those noises in your sleep, you were with…with him? I thought you hated Templars."

"Only in an abstract sort of way," she muttered.

Varric clucked his tongue and smiled, nudging Carver. "Huh. Sounds like a good story. Come on, Junior, I think big sis will be just fine on her own." He looked back over his shoulder with a wink. "Have fun, Hawke, but don't be late, we meet at dawn."

Aurah glanced at Cullen and blushed. "Thanks, Varric. I'll see you then."

When they were alone again, she bit her lip uncertainly. "I need to run back inside and grab another potion, but…would you like to go for a walk afterwards? I mean, assuming you don't have any pressing engagements to arrest well-meaning apostates?" She watched his reaction closely, the question serious despite the flippant way it was asked.

The corner of Cullen's mouth quirked up in a half-smile, his decision already made, for better or worse. "Perhaps this noble apostate doesn't need arresting, but a vigilant Templar to keep watch over her."

Her heart pounded like a drum inside her chest at what he was offering. "You will allow me to remain free…just like that?"

He crossed his arms and sighed. "I am not so steeped in dogma that I am incapable of seeking a better solution when the occasion calls for it. Mages need Templars to watch over them and protect them, Aurah, but I've seen you fight off demon after demon with ease. The political struggles in Kirkwall are such that I would not care to risk you being made an example of, and I am also not so naïve as to believe the Knight-Commander would be above using you in such a way."

He stroked her cheek, his eyes full of sadness. "My watching over you is the only solution I can think of to both serve my Order and see you kept safe."

She took his hand and clasped it tightly between her own. "My father was a mage here in the Kirkwall Circle before he ran away to Ferelden with my mother. I only recently learned it was a Templar who helped him escape. He told my father: 'Order is not served by caging the best of us.' I believe mages do need Templars, but not every mage is susceptible to demons and dark magic."

Aurah sighed gustily. "I hope one day we will all discover a way to work together, instead of fighting and killing."

Cullen tilted his head, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Perhaps that day is not so far off as you may think, my dear mage."

The shadow of a smile curved her mouth but her eyes remained serious. "I hope you are right, Ser Templar, I fear change is long overdue."

~o~

Cullen glanced over at Aurah where she stood limned in starlight. The Hightown garden was slightly overgrown but still lovely, the scent of roses perfuming the warm night. It didn't surprise him to learn that she knew of this forgotten place behind an abandoned mansion. It suited her, half cultivated beauty, half wild and untamed. If he were ever to draw a proper portrait of her, it would be in such a setting.

She turned to find him watching her and held her hand out to him. He moved to her side and laced their fingers together, smiling at how well her hand fit his. They had spent the first two hours talking and getting to know each other as real people, not fantasy or dream.

He discovered she loved music and reading heroic tales of ages past. He told her about how much he enjoyed drawing, and how he once determined to build a boat large enough for him and his faithful dog to sail to the edge of the world, but gave up the dream when he discovered sailing made him vomit.

They spoke of many things, but none of them to do with being a mage and a Templar. Nothing more needed to be said on that subject. There were more important things to attend.

"Cullen," she whispered as his lips traced a path down her throat.

"Aurah," he replied, straightening to stare into her eyes, which had turned from blue to silver with reflected light.

"We only have this one night. I cannot say what will happen in the Deep Roads, or if I will even return, but, I would like to carry the memory of your touch with me. Your real touch."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trailing his fingers down the side of her throat until he could feel the fluttering pulse in her neck. "Are you sure that's what you want?" She swallowed and nodded. "You want me to make love to you, Aurah, here in this garden?" His voice held the slight hint of a tease, and she smiled, remembering when he had said those exact words to her once in the Fade.

Opening her eyes, she gave him the same answer she had then. "Yes, here and now, Cullen. Make me yours."

No more words were spoken beyond the sighs and moans Aurah couldn't stop when he removed his clothing and hers and they stood naked, kissing and touching, marveling at the electric glide of heated skin to skin contact.

He caressed her breasts with the confident touch of a longtime lover, tugging and pinching her nipples into hardened peaks before dipping his head to taste each one in turn. She trembled from the sheer power of physical pleasure she was awash in. Cullen laid her gently down across their spread clothing and continued his journey of discovery across her body.

A nip of his teeth below her breast, an open-mouthed kiss against her flank, then hot breath and blessed Maker, he was there! Just there, where she wanted him most, the strong muscle of his tongue moving against her while he kissed her throbbing sex just as he would her mouth- with hunger and desire, but so much gentleness it nearly made her weep. Then she was flying, soaring, weightless in her release, until she sighed softly and floated back to earth in his arms.

After her heart calmed she rolled to reverse their positions and give him the same lavish attention he always insisted on showering on her. She knew all the secrets of his pleasure too and eagerly wrapped her lips around his swollen tip, closing her eyes at the taste of him, so different than anything she had previously experienced. She swirled her tongue, seeking more of it when he sat up and pulled her against him, guiding her legs around his waist and pushing up into her wet heat.

Cullen groaned against her neck, his voice cracking and fingers digging into the backs of her thighs where he gripped her. It was too much and not enough, all at once. He wanted to find his release inside her, but he wanted this connection to last forever. He was afraid to move lest it all be over in an instant.

She must have recognized the desperation in his eyes and his conflicted feelings. Pushing against his chest, she urged him to lie back and she followed him down, her bare breasts pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and they were still for several moments until their hearts beat together in calm harmony and a measure of his control returned.

Aurah glanced up at him, a question in her eyes and he nodded his readiness, flexing his hips to slide the slightest bit deeper and making her gasp. Pushing against his chest, she sat up and began a slow ride, taking him deeper on each down stroke, and clenching tighter and tighter around him as she approached the pinnacle once more. Rolling her beneath him in a single movement, he quickened the pace, guided by the sound of her breathing and how her grip on his shoulders tightened the closer she came.

She moaned and threw her head back, the sweet, seeking spasms of her sheathe pulling him into a rushing whirl of sensation where they were only one being; his hot release pumping into her, filling her completely and making her muffle her pleasured cries against his neck.

Slowly, the sound of the night noises could be heard again, the deep gold of a half moon rising majestically above the horizon. Cullen held her in his arms and kissed her, making the most of the little time they had left.

While she slept he whispered a prayer against her ear. "Maker protect her and bring her back from this journey unharmed. I…need her."

~o~

Hours later, they stood facing one another on the edge of the courtyard where the dwarves and those working for them were preparing to depart. Cullen grasped her hands, brow furrowed as he stared down to where his fingers wrapped around hers.

"Will you do something for me, if I ask you?"

She smiled up at him. "Of course, Cullen, you know I will. Anything."

His eyes crinkled endearingly when he grinned at her. "Anything? Be careful, Aurah, you never know what my request may be. Suppose I want you always chained to my bed, hmm?"

Her mouth twisted wryly, a gleam of humor in her eyes. "I'm sorry, was that meant to put me off? Because I can easily think of worse fates, although I may struggle to think of a better one."

Cullen chuckled, leaning down to kiss her. "You are endless delight, my lady." He sobered after a moment, running his fingers gently through her dark locks, his eyes searching hers and memorizing her face.

"Promise me you will return. No matter what occurs, swear that you will find your way back to me. How else can I bear to be parted when I have only just found you?"

She sighed. "Cullen," she began, stopping when she saw the desperate look in his eyes. A bubble of impulsive resolve rose in her and she nodded, knowing what he needed to hear. "I will come back to you, I swear it. A horde of demons couldn't keep me from you."

He kissed her a final time. "I will hold you to it."

~o~

Time went by, as it does, and Aurah kept her word, always returning to him no matter what difficulties arose or how formidable the foe she faced. There were several times when her absence was lengthy, but they always managed to come together in the fade, even so.

Until the terrible day Kirkwall exploded and the world around them changed. She disappeared without a trace, and he was left to follow the path of duty...and wait.

Long years passed for him. Empty years; painful years.

Templars and mages gone mad.

The Breach.

The Inquisition.

Red Lyrium.

Corypheus.

~o~

Commander Cullen straightened the papers on his desk, separating the reports he'd read from the ones he hadn't, sighing wearily at the work he still had to complete before he could sleep. There was never an end of things that needed his attention at Skyhold.

Not that he was looking forward to trying to rest. Sleep was often elusive, and the never-ending frustration of being unable to connect with Aurah just made it worse. He couldn't remember the last time he had even managed to reach the Fade and catch a glimpse of her.

He stared across the empty space of his office with grieved eyes. If only there were a way to know if she still lived or if there were some sign of hope to cling to amidst the dark. His brow furrowed and he reached for his bottom drawer, rustling among reports and files until he came across what he had hidden underneath it all.

Pulling out the sketch he had made of her so many years ago, he laid it on the top of his desk, eyes moving reverently over the image of the only woman he would ever love. For a time, he lost himself in precious memories, lingering especially on ones filled with her carefree laughter and warm smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. If only he could see her!

His eyes flicked to the open drawer and the lyrium kit just inside, silently taunting him with a siren song of possibilities. Clenching his jaw, he slammed the drawer shut in anger, his head jerking up when a knock sounded on one of his side doors. Throwing some reports over Aurah's picture to hide it, he turned his chair slightly.

"Come."

When Varric strode into the room, Cullen pasted something that passed for a smile on his face.

"Commander," Varric greeted, his shrewd eyes assessing the deep lines on the templar's face and his tired eyes. "I thought you might still be up, although you really should be sleeping." He pursed his lips. "You look like shit."

Cullen chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Did you come here just to tell me that, or was there something you actually needed?"

Varric smirked, already moving toward the door that would lead him back to the main part of the keep. "Nah, I just came to let you know a little birdie told me you might have a visitor tonight, if you were still up, which you are." The dwarf glanced back over his shoulder. "You can thank me tomorrow."

When the door closed, shutting out the sight of the cryptic archer, Cullen stood with a frown on his face.

A visitor...at this hour?

Removing his heavy coat, he went and poured some water into a wash bowl and splashed his face. Hearing the door open and recognizing the light footsteps of the young boy from the kitchens who always brought him food, he reached for the towel next to the water bowl to dry his face.

"Just leave the tray on my desk, lad, and you best get to bed, it's quite late."

A bright, familiar laugh had him whirling around in shock and disbelief, his eyes wide as he stared.

"I'm sorry I don't have a tray, Cullen, but I'm certainly not adverse to going to bed, as long as it's with you."

Aurah smiled, lighting the room with her presence, and Cullen flung the towel away and lunged for her, pulling her against him tightly in a desperate embrace.

"Aurah," he breathed. "Is this real or am I in the fade having a good dream, at long last?"

She reached up and pulled his face to her, kissing him and sighing against his mouth. Staring into his eyes, her own soft with feeling, she grinned and pinched him suddenly.

"Ow," he laughed. "What was that for, you saucy minx?"

She giggled and nuzzled her face against his broad chest. "That way you know it's real, of course."

Shaking his head, he tugged her toward the ladder leading to his sleeping chamber above. "Up you go."

Tilting her head, she smirked and started climbing, looking around curiously when he joined her at the top.

"It's rather austere, but I suppose you have the essentials covered, at least," she said, with a significant look at the bed. "Was there a particular reason you brought me here, Commander?" She smiled innocently.

He chuffed a laugh and pulled her against him, kissing her again before leading her to sit beside him on the large bed.

"I brought you up here because it's much easier to contain you with fewer doors for you to flee through. I'm thinking strategically with you, Aurah, don't think you will escape again now I have you in my grasp."

She pulled his much larger hand into her lap and fiddled with his fingers, a small smile on her lips, although her voice was serious. "What makes you think I have any desire to ever leave you again? All that has gotten me through every day, every fight, was the promise of being reunited with you."

Reaching for his face, she caressed his stubbled jawline. "I promised I would come back to you, and I have, Cullen. But this is still a world with templars and mages at odds. What I need to know is if you are willing to fight for the two of us? As a couple?"

He knelt in front of her, his eyes soft and earnest. "There is nothing I wouldn't brave for you, Aurah, nothing. You know how desperately I love you. There has never been anyone for me but you, not in all these years. Make me the happiest of men and say you'll marry me, please."

Her eyes filled with tears and she smiled. "You want to marry a mage? Mages aren't allowed to marry, you know this."

He shook his head, a firm resolve settling on his features and revealing just why he was such a successful commander. "The world is changing, you know it is, it has changed already. We won't be the first templar and mage to marry. Surely you're aware of this?" He gripped her hands more tightly and bowed his head, his voice going quiet. "Don't ask me to go through another day without you by my side." He looked up again and met her eyes. "After all, you are the woman of my dreams. Say yes."

She smiled, her whole face lighting up as she leaned down. "Yes," she whispered, and kissed him.

He pushed her flat onto the bed, stroked a hand through her dark locks, and smiled down at her. "One way or another, we will find a way to make this work. I swear it."

And they did.

END

Original Prompt:

There is more to life than duty and Cullen needs to learn that truth if he ever wants to be happy.

In essence, Cullen just needs some tender love and care.

This OP would enjoy either F!Hawke or F!Hero of Ferelden (these two are preferred), or even Bethany to win the templar's affections with her attentions and receive them in return once he realizes the contentment within another's embrace - his heart kindled.