Dear Mia

Dear Probably Alive Older Brother,

It was so great to hear you survived the horrible attack on Haven! I mean, had we not received word of your safety we might have been incredibly worried! I know you're terribly busy, what with trying to single handedly save the world and all that, but it's so great of you to understand how much your family would likely worry after your safety!

Oh, just kidding, I haven't heard from you since you left Kirkwall and if it wasn't for the party of Inquisition soldiers who passed through town last week we would probably still think you were dead'! I swear Cullen is it really so hard to scribble a few words down and let us know you're alive from time to time? Particularly after a whole bloody town is destroyed? Clearly you've forgotten all about the family you left behind but we haven't forgotten you, okay?

Oh, Brant wants to know if the Herald is as pretty as the bards say she is. Solid priorities our dear elder brother has.

Your Loving Baby Sister,

Mia

P.S. If you don't write me back I swear on the Maker I will travel to Skyhold and bring Mother with me. Imagine Mother fussing over you in front of all your men. Is that what you want?

Dear Mia,

I apologize for not writing to you sooner. I was only trapped in the frozen wastelands of the mountains for a few weeks with no way of delivering a letter. Food was scarce and many were injured, but you're right, I should have found time. We eventually managed to make our way to an impressive, but rather dilapidated castle named Skyhold where it has been my responsibility to oversee the welfare of nearly two thousand men and women. But you're right again, I've been remiss.

Yes I am alive, and no I am not trying to single handedly save the world. Several among our company appear to be trying, however, so I leave it to them. Currently I'm just trying to teach people who've never been within fifty feet of a sword or shield how to use both adequately enough that they don't die within the first ten minutes of a real battle.

Tell Brant that the Inquisitor's appearance is of no consequence. She is an honorable woman who shall, with any luck, agree to lead our Inquisition.

Love,

Cullen

P.S. Please, for the love of all Thedas, do not sick mother on me. I'm sorry.

Dear Commander Cullen,

I'd apologize for the accusatory tone of my last letter… but it would be disingenuous. It isn't as though you're a reliable communicator even when your castles aren't being ransacked. You've been gone what, over twenty years? And we've seen you exactly twice and you've written maybe a handful of letters.

Listen, I know life has been hard for you. I also understand that's a huge understatement, but we've heard about some of things that have happened to and around you. All of them hurt my heart to hear, and don't get me started on Mother, she's nearly inconsolable. I was only twelve when you left, I know, but you were my big brother. My favorite brother (don't tell Brant). Always there, always kind and willing to play with your dopey younger sister. During the Blight, when we had to move South, I learned a few things about loss too. We were lucky enough that no one in our family died or was injured, but many were not so lucky. Do you remember Robin Heth? I assume you do, he used to be your best friend. Well, his entire family was taken by the Blight. Rounded up like cattle and driven away where they died in stinking squalor. And the Durhest's on the next farm over? As I recall you had a pretty hefty infatuation with the middle daughter, Jassaren. They all died too. Families were ripped apart right in front of us and I kept thinking about you, my older brother, a Templar, out trying to make the world a better place. We were so proud of you Cullen, Father especially. But the Blight took something out of all of us, and we all could have slept a little easier knowing, at least, that you were alive.

I know you've seen and been through a lot, and I know the stories probably don't tell the half of it, but no matter how much time and distance is between us, I will always be your sister.

Maker's breath, Brant is dying to hear more about the Inquisitor. The bard at the tavern claims she single-handedly defeated a demon dragon and delivered all of Haven to safety. She sounds too good to be true, honestly. Is she secretly bowlegged and snaggle toothed? I have to admit, I'm becoming rather curious myself.

Yours,

Mia

P.S. The socks were Mother's idea; I don't know why they are such a hideous green color. Sorry.

Dear Mia,

I am properly admonished. You appear to have inherited Mother's talent for shaming people into submission. Though in this case, you are probably warranted. I fear my time for letter writing truly is limited at the moment, but I swear I will make more of an effort. I have indeed been a part of many unfortunate occurrences, most of which I would prefer not to think of or talk about. Perhaps sometime in the future.

I know I may have seemed… disinterested when the Blight moved toward home and Father took you South, but I was desperate for news. Unfortunately, though perhaps necessarily, Templars are meant to forsake ties with their families. The Order is their family and their duty surpasses everything else. I was near sick with worry for you, but there was very little I could do without risking severe punishment. Perhaps that is no excuse, even as I write them, the words feel hollow.

At present the Inquisition demands my time. I am sorry for that, but someday I will make my absence up to you. I swear to you that this cause is worth the sacrifice. What I do now, I do for you and the family. Once, I lost sight of that, I will not do so again.

In reference to the Inquisitor, I can only say that many of the tales happen to be true. I know that is not often the case, but this time I'm afraid an exception must be made. My Lady is prone to one miracle after another and posses several rare gifts, though it probably is not wise to go into details here. But, as penance for my lack of communication, I will give you a few personal details about Her Worship that you can choose to share at your discretion (I imagine such gossip will be well received, unless the behavior of women has changed so drastically). She is shorter than you might expect, a former farm girl from the Hinterlands, and is actually quite terrible with any weapon that isn't a bow. I attempted to teach her some sword play during our travels and I must say, Andraste's Chosen one or not, she's more likely to stab herself than an attacker. I think perhaps that you would like her. She posses an interesting... how should I put this… wit. She drives our Ambassador nearly insane with her sarcasm and jests, which, I must admit, is more amusing than it likely should be. War, dear sister, is much duller then many would like to admit. At least she livens things up a bit.

She is also not bowlegged or snaggle toothed but she is rather freckled, I believe it's a ramification of having ginger hair. Varric, a dwarf in our company, claims that gingers have no souls and freckles mark those they've stolen. He considers himself hilarious, I have my doubts.

Your repentant brother,

(Commander) Cullen

Dearest Brother,

You make it terribly hard to be angry with you when you're so 'repentant.' Which is a shame, being angry at you has been a nice distraction from my tyrannical mother-in-law. Honestly, the woman isn't happy unless she's making someone else miserable. That someone else typically being me. My advanced pregnancy doesn't appear to deter her. My husband, Maker curse him, conveniently has too much to do down at the shop to rescue me during the daylight hours. I'm still trying to work out the proper punishment for him. I'd appreciate any suggestions on this matter.

At what point am I allowed to ask why you left the Templars? Or is that one of those ominous sounding topics that must be 'discussed at another time?' We've heard the stories and rumors of course, who hasn't? The Templar's breaking away from the Chantry, that creepy green hole in the sky, and crazy rebel mages everywhere. We've heard that the Hinterlands are pretty bad off due to some insane civil war between the mages and Templars. To be honest, the whole damn world seems to have lost its mind. (Gavriel hates it when I curse. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. So refreshing.)

Father returned from Fallow Hills yesterday, he was very relieved that you were, in fact, not dead. His back has been bothering him lately and Brant's taken over most of the farm and business work. It's terrifying watching Brant attempt to be responsible. I know you're aware his wife died five years past, I've been trying to toss several women from town in his path but he's either oblivious or completely uninterested. Between you and me (and I will deny it and beat you to a pulp if you repeat it) I'm worried about the great big idiot.

But enough about me.

So 'Her Worship,' eh? That's a rather intimidating title, but if, as you say, the stories are all true, maybe it's fitting. Though it's hard to match this witty creature you describe with the bard's rendition of the 'Holy Herald who fell from the sky to save us all from utter ruin', or whatever. The Chantry Mother's in town all but soil themselves with fury anytime she's brought up, by the way. She's a heretic, apparently, which of course makes you one by association. I almost hit Verma Wessleton yesterday when she whispered something of the kind to her husband. Who, by the way, is easily the most disgusting man I have ever met. He blows his nose into his shirt collar while you're speaking to him. But anyway, I'll have to take your word on the character of 'Her Worship.' (I'm assuming she does actually have a real name.)

Which reminds me, if the stories are all true and she happens to be 'as beautiful as the first warm light of summer' (a bard's words, not mine. Yuck) do you blush like a fool every time she talks to you? I distinctly recall that anytime an attractive female got within three feet of you, you lost any ability to behave like a normal person whatsoever. It was adorable.

Varric… as in Varric Tethras, the author? Mother loves his books, Sword's and Maiden's or something like that. I skimmed the first page and was nearly sick. Glad he's given up writing in favor of world-saving, or whatever it is you lot are doing up there in your fancy frozen castle.

Your sister who will not murder her mother-in-law,

Mia

P.S. Mother has included a letter as well. I read 'My dearest, beautiful, golden angel,' and gave up. But you should write to her so she'll stop trying to steal my letters from you and frame them.

Dear Non-murderous Sister,

I'm afraid I haven't much time to write. I will try and touch on all of your topics as I may. As for revenge on your husband, well, unless you've much improved in the last eight years, you could make him your special Nug Pie. As I recall Father was unable to leave the water closet for almost two days. As for tyrannical mother-in-laws, I have no experience and thus no useful advice. Unless you'd like to challenge her to a duel, then I may be able to offer some pointers.

I am sorry to hear about Father and I wish I could help with Brant. When this is all over, and Maker willing, I will come for an extended visit if I can.

We are aware of the Chantry's… slander. We are working to curb it, but at this time there is very little we can do. It's unfortunate, but will hopefully pass in time as the people come to see we are a force for good and change. I appreciate your championship on my behalf, but considering the woman in question is married to such a disgusting man, she's likely had punishment enough.

I am a grown man and a professional; I do not blush and stutter in the presence of women, attractive or otherwise.

Yes Varric Tethras… who is supposedly a dwarf of many talents. Writing apparently being one of them, though he is often a pain in my backside more than anything else. I myself have read none of his works but Seeker Pentaghast is rumored to be quite the fan. Though she would likely run me through if such information was repeated, so I would appreciate your silence on this topic. The Inquisitor allegedly let the information leak and I was sincerely afraid the Seeker was going to push Her Worship from the battlements.

Maker, sometimes I believe our cause is comprised of children and I am their caretaker.

Yours,

Cullen

P.S. I have included a letter for Mother utilizing my best penmanship so that she might at least frame something that doesn't look like it was scribbled by a toddler.