He glanced up, amused, at the whirlwind of the door to his office opening and slamming closed and then the Inquisitor flopping herself down in the chair across from his desk in an exaggerated collapse. Folding her arms over each other on the stack of papers that littered the desk top, she promptly dropped her head down atop them.

He waited, the parchment he'd been reviewing still in one hand.

A moment passed, and then she rolled her head slightly to the side, allowing her to peer up at him through the dark hair that had fallen across her face.

Cullen raised an eyebrow.

She huffed through her hair. "Aren't you going to ask me what's wrong?"

"Are you going to tell me regardless?"

"Probably, but it would be rather more gentlemanly of you to ask."

He leaned back in his chair, stretching the tight muscles in his back and shoulders from being hunched over his desk for the better part of the morning. "Very well. I suppose we must all strive to maintain some resemblance of propriety, despite Sera's best efforts anyway." Cullen neatly placed the latest field report from the Western Approach back onto the top of the 'to be reviewed' pile. "My lady, Inquisitor—"

She held up a finger in protest, still not bothering to raise her head. "I believe we've discussed this once or twice before now, Cullen."

He pretended not to notice her half-hidden smile.

"Ah, I do beg your forgiveness," he said, placing his hand over his heart and inclining his head deferentially. "The Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor Livenya Trevelyan of Ostwick, third in line to Lord—"

"That's a nice cloak you have there." Her head lifted, and she settled her chin on her arms as she gave him a steely glare. "It would be a tremendous shame if something were to… happen to it."

"Indeed."

"By accident, of course," she added, examining her fingernails with a cool and exaggerated sense of interest.

"Naturally." He gave up trying to hold back and grinned. "All right, Liv, I give up. What pressing issue has brought you to this terrible state of distress, leaving you with little choice but to throw yourself haphazardly across my desk?"

Liv beamed. "Much better." She sat up and folded her hands in her lap, glancing down as she idly opened and closed her fingers over the glowing green of her palm, making the faint light flicker. With a sigh, she met his eyes. "The truth is, Cullen, I'm bored."

"You're… bored?" He hadn't been sure what he'd been expecting her to say, but he hadn't expected that.

"Yes, I'm bored." She began to tick items off on her fingers as she spoke. "Corypheus has been defeated, Cassandra is off Divining or whatever it is she's doing… Leliana's been away looking for the Hero of Ferelden for months. Josephine keeps inviting people here from every noble house I could never remember during lessons, and then I have to go to dinner with them and be exceedingly polite and not spill soup on myself." She slid down in the chair so that her head rested against the back support and she stared up at the roof. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we succeeded and that Thedas isn't a festering cesspool of red lyrium-addled templars, but I miss feeling," she hesitated, searching for the right words, "like what I was doing mattered. I miss being out in the field. Traveling. Being useful for what I was doing instead of being just… a glorified figurehead who sits there and looks pretty."

"Well, I think that's a perfectly understandable way to feel."

Liv tilted her head to look at him. "You do? Because feeling this way makes me feel like a selfish brat." She idly scratched the surface of the desk with her index finger. "So many people lost their lives to get us where we are now—safe, with more opportunities to rebuild the mages, the templars, and the Chantry into organizations that better benefit all of Thedas—and here I am complaining that it's not enough for me."

Cullen stood up and walked around his desk before leaning against the corner closest to her. "I think anyone else in your position would feel the same way. I don't think it makes you selfish."

"What about you?" She closed the hand in her lap, extinguishing the light on her palm. "You're as busy as ever. Endless troops to supply and monitor. I guess it just feels like a never-ending game of chess."

Cullen shrugged. "In some ways. I certainly appreciate having more mundane logistical tasks, as opposed to planning sieges. Too much pressure. I don't think I slept at all in the days before Adamant."

"But, don't you ever want to walk away from it all? Be Cullen and not 'the Commander'? I mean, not forever… "

"Yes and no." He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit so deeply ingrained that he no longer noticed he was doing it. "I like the routine. Without lyrium, I had trouble staying focused, I became overwhelmed by things that were out of my control. Having a predictable schedule helped me immensely, and I suppose I take comfort in it. That must sound dreadfully boring to you."

Liv shook her head. "No, I get it. The difference is that you still have a purpose. I'm rubbish at diplomacy and strategy. I should just appoint Schmooples II as Inquisitor and go muck out the stables for Dennet or something."

"Is that what you want to do?"

"Well, not the stables in particular."

"Maybe you need some time away, like a holiday."

"I don't need a holiday." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I want to feel more useful, not less."

"Fine, don't think of it as a holiday. Why don't you grab some people and take off for a few weeks. Visit a keep or two, improve morale, punch some bears."

She sniffed indignantly. "For the record, Cassandra is the bear puncher. I might have ridden one. Once. While very drunk. But the experience was far too bitey to warrant repeating."

He gave the bottom of the chair a tiny shove with his foot. "I'm serious. Take Bull, or Dorian, or Sera, or whoever and get away for a bit. I'm sure Schmooples and Josephine can manage the Inquisition's diplomatic affairs in your absence."

"Would you come?" She lifted an eyebrow quizzically.

"What, me? You would you want me to come with you? Why?"

She studied him seriously. "Because you're my best friend. Because you could use a break, too. Because it would be good for you to see your troops in the field, "improve morale" and all that. Perhaps find a mate for your poor lonely cloak."

He chuckled. "My cloak is happy being alone, thank you very much."

"I mean it, Cullen. Will you consider it at least?"

"I suppose. I'll think about it."

"I should leave you to it then." She rose reluctantly and gave him a light sisterly kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for listening. I don't know how I would manage without you."

She slipped out through the door, pulling it closed behind her, and he stood there for a long while, his fingers touching his cheek where her lips had brushed his skin. The idea of being on the road with her for a few weeks was sorely tempting, but there was always so much to manage here, and it would be difficult for him to delegate everything for that length of time.

Still, maybe there was something he could do to cheer her up…

For the rest of the afternoon, his thoughts were only half on his work until inspiration finally struck.

This story is a gift for the lovely and wonderful cciortan, who makes the most incredible plushies, and who, more importantly, is an amazing friend. I hope you like this story as much as I love the Cullen you made me, and that's going to be tough because I'm still squeeing over him. ;) Go check out her work under cciortan on deviantArt - you won't be sorry!

As always, a big thank you to my beta, Josie Lange, for her super speedy beta work, even with the crazy week she has coming up. Your comments and advice were spot-on as always. :)