Most stories I read of Messenger Jim paint them as a complete ass. My vision of him is different: someone who adorkably naive, puts his foor in it constantly, but is a generally good soul, adores his Commander, and ships the Cullen/Trevelyan romance like a screeching fangirl.

Enjoy!

The first time Trainee Relay Officer Jim Satherman – a simple messenger, really, but he liked the title better-saw Commander Cullen Rutherford and the Inquisitor, Amelia Trevalyan together, he hadn't been impressed. She looked a little blue, and he looked a little red. That's all he remembered from that time. Of course, she had been trudging in the snow after the destruction of Haven, hence the blueness of her skin, and Commander Cullen had just yelled his frustrations swearing and muttering to Maker knows what god or demon, and that was perhaps why he was red.

Perhaps it was the fact he had carried the Inquisitor to a tent, too, and stayed there, concerned about her well-being, long enough for the healers to actually undress her. Some of the redness could have come from that. Jim couldn't be exactly sure, after all he had been assigned to carry the Commander's messages just a scant week ago- right before everything had come crashing down when Haven had been attacked- but the tall blond ex-templar hadn't stricken him as the kind of man that would just stand there and ogle. He had given the young messenger the impression of a being a man that had gone through a few shitstorms in his life- and come out of them all the more capable. He kept his distance without being lofty and superior, and he seemed to be an intensely private man. And a bit prone to blushing in the Inquisitor's presence.

But Jim was guilty of the same, so he didn't hold it against the Commander. After all, the Inquisitor was gorgeous. Not that the Maker could have send them someone...homely...to do his bidding.

She was the Herald of Andraste, and like Andraste herself, she had to be...perfect.

The second time he saw the Inquisitor and the Commander together, she was sauntering towards the table the general of the Inquisition forces had commandeered in the middle of Skyhold's courtyard, trying to organize and allocate their resources. Jim was one of the messengers standing at attention when the Herald approached and tilted her head to the side, a small smile playing along her lips, as she regarded the Commander with those stunning amethyst eyes of hers.

Clearly, Jim thought, she is assessing the Commander's skills. It was her job as the Inquisitor to evaluate the strength and ability of their forces. He puffed out his chest and listened even more attentively, hoping she'd be able to recognise what an absolutely brilliant strategic mind his Commander possessed. There. That order was pure tactical genius...hey.

Wait a minute.

Was the inquisitor checking out the Commander's ass?

Jim did a little double take, shook his head to clear it, then looked again. Andraste's blood, the Inquisitor had checked out the Commander's ass- was still checking it out- with a clearly appreciative look warming her eyes and crooking that grin into a predatory smile.

The Commander had to yell his order at Jim to make him snap out of it. He had been left there, staring, totally baffled by the sudden realization that the Inquisitor was a woman, and the Commander a man, and that she fancied him.

Once he and his fellow messengers and drill sergeants had been dismissed, Jim watched from afar as the Herald and the Commander briefly talked together, her smiling cheekily up at him, then asking a question that obviously flustered the same man that Jim had thought nothing could ever fluster. Commander Rutherford brought his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed, clearly embarrassed, red in the face, stammering and stuttering. Then she smiled up at him and Jim nearly stumbled and fell with surprise at the slight smile that cracked the Commander's hard, usually sombre mouth Still, that was a smirk, or a grin, Jim could swear it, and the Commander's face didn't crack, as many soldiers had often sworn it would do if the man ever smiled. Still reeling with shock, he started to climb up the staircase, only to trip over his feet and landed face down on hard, unforgiving rock. Maybe the fact that he had been staring at them instead of watching his damned step was to blame a little too, if he was being honest with himself. That, or the annoying habit steps had to appear out of thin air. He looked behind his back, only to see the Commander offer another smile, a lopsided grin that was both amused and cheeky and a little awkward at the same time.

Inquisitor Trevalyan just...melted.

Jim stumbled again, but this time manage to keep his footing. He gave up trying to walk up the stairs without looking at his feet (a broken neck was very low in his to-do list) and just openly gawked as Commander Rutherford made a hasty retreat and the Inquisitor was left staring after him. And this time, she actually licked her lips a little, watching the tall ex-templar walk away.

Jim was flabbergasted.

The Herald of Andraste couldn't have carnal thoughts, could she? An unbidden image jumped into his mind, of the Inquisitor, the woman Andraste Herself had sent to them, engaged in...carnal pleasures and he cringed, then looked up to the sky, waiting for lightning to strike him down.

A few minutes later, when he had some time to get over the shock and convince himself he had probably misunderstood, or imagined everything, he wearily made his way up the stairs, tripping on that same fourth landing again (as he had every single time he climbed up, no matter how many times he'd told himself he'd watch his step next time) and crashed into the wall. He rubbed the sore spot on his forehead, then shot a nasty look to the staircase, having already decided that what the Herald felt or didn't feel for his Commander wasn't his business and besides, he'd just had imagined things. He was better served minding his blighted footing, because that damned last step with the chipped edge looked as if it was laughing at him.

Okay, he thought to himself. One of these days, step. One of these days.

His job kept him busy for the next few weeks, carrying messages back and forth for Commander Cullen. He was promoted to Junior Relay Officer –which basically meant he was now expected not to need a map and a torch to find his way around the Keep- and he got given his own bunk in a room he shared with four other messengers. Some of them worked for Sister Nightingale, and the tales they told of far-away places and clandestine missions made Jim green with envy. There he was, just running back and forth with messages about troop assignment and food allocation and training instructions, while these guys, that even looked younger than him, were living the adventure he had craved when he'd joined the Inquisition.

At least he'd managed to conquer that treacherous fourth landing going up. Hah!

He didn't see much of the Inquisitor. She was always coming and going, sometimes strolling into Skyhold like a conqueror, and other times staggering in, looking like something the cat had dragged in. But Jim hadn't forgotten the appreciative, hungry look she had given the Commander- in the weeks since, he had managed to overcome his shock and rationalized it a bit. Of course the Herald was a woman. Of course it was normal she had...womanly desires too. She wasn't just a symbol, she was a normal person, like everybody else. What if she was tasked with saving the world? What if she was the only one that could close those demon-spewing rifts? She was a woman first, and his Commander was a man. Even the Maker had gotten himself a bride, there was no reason two handsome, intelligent, clearly attractive people couldn't be interested in one another.

He caught glimpses of her and Commander Cullen paying chess together in the garden, and now that he was prepared for it, it didn't surprise him that much. He stood there for a while, concealed behind a pillar, and watched them smile and talk, noting that the usually stern Commander got a tender, warm look in his eyes when he talked to her and that the Inquisitor was all girly and charming, and gazed at him with fascination. He smiled to see it, feeling a little warm inside. Once again, he saw that lopsided grin grace his Commander's face and he almost awwwed out loud at the sight. Once again, he saw her secretly checking him out, shooting covert looks to his chest and arms whenever some slight movement made them flex and he wanted to coo at how adorably awkward they both were, dancing around each other, secretly admiring, obviously charmed with each other and each thinking the feeling wasn't mutual.

Cute, he thought as he walked away. They are cute together.

He turned back just a girly laugh bubbled up and Jim actually awwwed out loud.

Who am I kidding, he thought? They're fucking adorable!

His duties had kept him well occupied for the next few days, but since he was one of the Commander's personal messengers, he kept seeing the man quite a lot- which of course meant he saw the Inquisitor as well, because to Jim's delight- and the Commander's, no doubt- she was up in his office in the ramparts fairly often.

Indeed, even to someone who wasn't exactly the most observant of people, like him, it seemed that the inquisitor lost no chance to pay the Commander casual, frequent visits. Jim happened to be there, or to be passing by, and he'd found that he had to fight hard to suppress his smile.

Commander Cullen Rutherford was not an easy man to please; he expected perfection, and on first try. He wasn't cruel or crass, he hardly ever shouted, he never hurled insults and threats. But most recruits scrambled to obey his orders to the best of their abilities. After months under his command, Jim had come to believe it wasn't because of his title; it wasn't the Commander his men loathed to displease. It was the man himself. Cullen Rutherford could have been just a simple man among the ranks and still his fellows would turn to him for instructions when shitstorms broke; Jim was certain of that, and it made his admiration for the quiet, soft-spoken Commander even greater.

As for the Inquisitor...what could someone like Jim say about her? He was in genuine awe of the woman, after the reports of what she'd accomplished in the Hinderlands, and in the Fallow Mire and everywhere else. How could a woman that looked so small, so feminine, be that force of nature everybody described? Jim wished he could have seen her in action, just once- maybe it would be easier to believe then. He had only seen her in the sparring ring, practising her dual daggers, and though her skills were nothing sort of jaw-dropping, he couldn't really reconcile the image of this bright and breeze young woman, who always had a smile on her face and gifted everyone with it, with the idea of a woman that had already brought down two dragons. Dragons for fuck's sake! Jim would brown his breeches if he saw one again, after what he'd seen that dragon do to Haven.

At some level, Jim was well aware that the awe and admiration he felt for those two individuals bordered a young girl's infatuation with the characters of her favourite romance novel. He was aware of himself awwwing and cooing and going doe-eyed whenever he spotted them together; those soft, warm looks, that special way that they had of looking at each other. The expectant note of awkward disbelief in the air, as if none of them could believe they had caught the attention of the other. It made Jim smile, and all the other messenger gossip like bored fishwives. Jim rarely took part in it; most times he was annoyed, as if what existed –or was well under way to its existence- between Commander Cullen and Inquisitor Trevelyan was something that he had to protect, to help nourish. He had gotten in a few fights over more lewd comments among his fellow messengers, until they've all learned to keep their dirty minds to themselves.

And he wasn't the most observant of people, but he could tell that there were problems to be overcome between them. He could see t lines of tension bracketing the Commander's mouth, he could tell that sometimes, the man was hanging on by the skin of his teeth. Not knowing the reason made him worry, and he could see the Inquisitor worried too.

Today was one of those days. Jim had walked into the Commander's office, with a report that needed to be delivered, and saw that the man was sitting at his office, a blank look in his eyes, staring at a little box without even seeing it. Some foreboding feeling of dread rose inside him, and for a minute he forgot this was his Commander, the man he was usually scared shitless of.

"Ser," he approached the table cautiously. "Are you feeling alright, Commander?"

He expected to be brusquely dismissed the minute the words left his mouth, but to his surprise, the Commander just sighed and rubbed his forehead with wildly trembling fingers.

"No," the man just groaned at the end. "No, Jim. Not alright."

Jim felt emboldened and frightened at the same time, as he took another step forward. "Anything I can help with, Commander?"

Commander Cullen raised his face from his hands and gave his messenger a slightly puzzled look, before his features softened with what looked like gratitude. He then sighed again, and there was so much weariness and resignation in that one soft sigh, in the posture of his stiffened shoulders, that Jim looked frantically around, trying to figure out what to do to help.

"Can you please ask the Inquisitor to come here, Jim?" the Commander pushed the box in front of his away then rose from his chair. "I have something important to discuss with her."

Jim scrambled to obey. "Yes, Ser," he murmured. "Right away."

He cast another look behind his shoulder as he was going out, chewing on his lip. Maker, he hoped Commander Cullen wasn't about to end things between them, he honestly did. Couldn't the man see how his face lit up when she walked in, couldn't he tell that whatever it was that was weighing on his soul, the Inquisitor was the remedy for it?

He ran down the stairs, located the Inquisitor who was just as alarmed as he'd been at the Commander's cryptic request, then escorted her back to the office.

And shamelessly, with all the anxious tension of a mother hen worrying for her chicks, he stood outside the door and listened in.

Lyrium withdrawal. Oh, my poor Commander.

Standing behind the closed door, he felt tear prickle his eyes. And then she said "you can do this, Cullen. I know you can!" and Jim wanted to kiss her. The relief surging through him was so great, that he felt like shouting out for joy. She's got your back, he thought. You'll be alright.

He listened on for some more time, but the voices faded down to murmurs after that, and then unexpectedly, the Commander laughed, and a girly, infectious laughter soon joined in. Jim smiled, then straightened up and left to carry on with his duties, feeling as if a disaster had narrowly been averted.

Yes, Commander, he thought going down the stairs. She's your remedy, man. I hope you can see that.

He had the dubious honour of being the Commander's favourite messenger, so he was in his office up in the ramparts quite a lot. Maybe a bit too often for his liking, because the Commander seemed more tense as of late, as if he was continuously on edge. Knowing what he knew about his lyrium withdrawal, Jim couldn't really fault the man, but that didn't mean he was eager to be the recipient of his dark moods.

The Commander looked as if he was getting little to no sleep, and he missed most of his meals. Tension lines bracketed his mouth, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Work had doubled, as the Inquisition was preparing for the Winter Palace Ball, and new recruits were arriving every day. The Commander didn't have a single moment to relax and maybe more importantly of all, the Inquisitor had been away for at least two weeks.

And, of course, for Jim that meant more yelling at poor ol' him. Well, to be honest...the Commander didn't yell. He didn't have to. That low, rumbling note of impatience and disappointment, the caustic tone of his remarks, were enough to make Jim tremble with fear and shame. The fact that he knew what was the cause of all that made Jim all the more eager to not have the imposing Commander shout at him, or have the ex-templars' eyes narrow at him in that look that made him almost brown his britches. He worked twice as hard, followed orders twice as promptly, and nearly broke his neck more than twice tumbling down the stairs in his effort to carry out his duties as soon as possible.

He could swear, that damned treacherous fourth landing, with the chipped step that always tripped him up, had miraculously spread and multiplied.

He was promoted to Senior Relay Officer. Even got a new uniform- which meant that the Inquisition was now willing to 'allocate valuable resources to outfit him'. In other words, they could now spend money on him, because he wasn't completely worthless.

Regardless, he wore his hooded uniform with pride and strove to be the best Senior Relay Officer that ever relayed. To boldly climb up and down stairs, treacherous fourth landings be damned. To fearlessly knock on the Commander's door when he was in one of his foul moods. To do the latter without visibly quivering- that last one was still on the to-do list.

A report by sister Nightingale had to be delivered to the Commander as soon as possible, and Jim strode into the office, ready to report, when he realised the desk was vacant. Thinking that the Commander had taken the chance to get some fresh air, he exited through the other door, his eyes on the parchment at hand.

"Commander," he spotted the man's tall form near the ramparts, and hurried towards him, looking at the report in his hand. Maker, more bad news. And who would get yelled at for it? It was always the poor messenger- or Relay Officer, call it what you like- that got the shitty end of the stick. "Sister Leliana's report, Ser. You wanted a copy of it."

And the Commander moved and Jim saw the Inquisitor, a blush on her face, looking away. Jim's eyes darted from one to the other, taking in more details; the Commander had pinned the Inquisitor against the wall, and was now drawing deep, calming breaths before slowly turning his way.

"WHAT?" The Commander snarled, his eyes narrowed, his whole posture menacing.

"Sister Leliana's report, Ser," Jim repeated, perplexed. Maker, he hadn't even read the dammed report yet. The messenger usually got flogged after that. "You wanted a copy of it. Delivered without delay, Ser."

And then the commander growled. It was a intimidating, slow rumble; he took one step towards Jim and pinned him with a look that was made him pause, then look around him in alarm. He'd never had any intention of finding out what it felt like being thrown over the ramparts, no ser. And the Commander's tone and posture spelled out in capital letters that this was exactly what was about to happen to him. Belatedly realising exactly what he had interrupted, by the flushed face of the Inquisitor and the ...ahem...state of his Commander, Jim swallowed hard, then blinked, forcing his brain to work.

"Or...delivered to your office," he corrected. "Right."

And then turned tail and fled. But just before slipping through the door, he snuck a look behind him and felt his whole face flame up.

Maker, but that wasn't a kiss that the Inquisitor got. That was...wow. Jim felt absurdly proud of the man he served under. Almost felt the giddy urge to take out huge pom-poms and cheer "Way to go, Commander!"

As the kiss went on, and one of Commander Cullen's hands climbed to tighten around the Inquisitor's waist, Jim blushed a little, and bit his lip as he gawked, spellbound. It didn't last long, but it made him a little hot under the collar, watching them; the Commander then drew back and he whispered something to her, a blush spreading down his face; her answer made him chuckle then whisper something back; from the way it made the Inquisitor gasp and blush Jim was certain was absolutely wicked. Jim did a little surprised double take. He hadn't realised the man was capable of being mischievous and flirty- it suited him. She suited him. And if that second kiss was any indication, he suited her just fine too, because damn it, he had never seen a woman turn into pure flame like that in a man's arms, surrendering so totally.

Later that night, in his bunk, he smiled to himself thinking of what he had seen. Kisses like that were sure to make a woman's knees go weak, not that Jim had much experience himself. But judging by how the Herald had clutched at the Commander's shoulders and how she had moaned into his mouth, Jim was willing to bet his Commander had rocked her world a bit.

Feeling a little hot and bothered at the memory and incredibly ashamed of it, he realised how absurd it was to think of them in those terms with their titles. He smiled even more.

He wondered if Cullen and Amelia would get together. Maker, they were so adorable together. And hot, so hot. They were going to be a great couple- who was he kidding, they would set Skyhold on fire. The Inquisitor and the Commander- it was a match made in heaven. She had made the Commander smile and laugh- Jim could hardly believe it. And Maker only knew how much weight the Herald carried on her slim shoulders- it was nice that the Commander –Cullen- could get her mind off it. He sighed to himself. He sounded like a little girl reading one of those cheesy romances once again, but he couldn't help it.

He smiled up to the ceiling, ignoring the snoring of his bunkmates. It sure made a man's heart warm at the thought, that amidst all this death and destruction, amidst peril and the fear of approaching doom, two people with the weight of the world on their shoulders could actually...fall in love?

Maker, he hoped so. It would be so grand. The ultimate snub in the face of death and doom. In your face, Corypheus. We'll defeat you, and find time to live and love and be happy in the meanwhile. The smile on Jim's face grew wider and happiness flooded his heart. He'd thought they were fighting a desperate battle so far, doomed to fail...but what he'd seen up on the battlements today had somehow filled him with hope.

Just before sleep claimed him – a stupidly wide grin on his face - he thought to himself that he had to be careful not to interrupt again. The Commander would have his hide!

Jim didn't see either the Inquisitor or Commander Cullen for the next few weeks. The Grand ball at Hallamshiral, Empress Celene's winter palace, had gotten hold of everyone's attention and then just like that, poof, both of them were gone from Skyhold for the first time.

The place sure felt empty.

Jim kept up his duties, wondering, speculating, trying to imagine what the Winter Place would be like. From murmured whispers of Sister Nightingale's scouts, he had learned that not everything was going to be fancy dresses and wine and cakes at the ball; danger lurked even there. He found himself fretting for his favourite couple and daydreaming about them at the same time.

Commander Cullen didn't seem like the dancing type, but Jim sure hoped the man would be smart enough to seize the opportunity to share a dance with the Inquisitor.

They came back, triumphant, having foiled an assassination plot, and everything seemed fine for a while. Then that damned lyrium addiction thing reared its ugly head once again, and Jim didn't have to eavesdrop this time: the door had been left wide open, and he'd caught the whole exchange- Commander Cullen's anguish at feeling that his addiction wasn't letting him be the best he could be for the Inquisition, the concerned but supportive efforts of the Herald to let him know that he was being stupid. Jim wanted to step in and shout it out himself: you're being stupid. You're the best Commander we could have wished for, lyrium addiction or not. When the Inquisitor left, a concerned frown on his face, Jim stepped into the office and saluted the Commander briskly.

"Ser?"

Cullen raised a weary head and blinked, as if not recognising him. "Jim. Is there something to report?"

"No, Ser," Jim's courage faltered. "I...I'm glad you're back, Ser." Jim felt a blush climbing to his cheeks. "This place wouldn't be the same without you, Ser."

Cullen shot the young messenger a narrow-eyed look, then his eyes widened and he blushed himself. "Thank you, Jim," he croaked, then looked away. "Dismissed," he softly added. "Take the day off."

"I could take over copying those report to Sister Leliana and Lady Josephine, if you'd like Ser."

Another surprised jolt by Cullen, who then coughed into his hand and started to shift nervously in his chair.

"Maker's breath," he muttered under his breath. "You heard the whole thing, didn't you?"

Jim fidgeted in place. "The door was open, Ser."

Cullen shot the messenger a stern look, but for the first time Jim didn't cower. Instead, he met the Commander's flinty gaze head on, straightening his spine, raising his chin up.

"Alright then," The Commander said in the end, then tossed him a stack of reports that had to be copied and delivered. "Knock yourself out."

"I would suggest taking a stroll, Commander?" Jim ventured even further. In for a copper, in for a sovereign, he thought to himself. "Or maybe take care of those dealing in Ferelden, Ser? I will take care of the reports while you're gone, Ser."

Cullen stared long and hard at his messenger, making Jim dread that he had gone too far, and he would be rebuked any minute now, but instead the tall ex-templar sighed and shot the young man a crooked grin. "Not right now, Jim," he softly said. "We have to prepare for the attack on Adamant. There's a ton of things to take care of."

"Yes, Ser."

"But once Adamant has been taken care of, I will remember your offer, Jim."

The young man raised his head again, then smiled warmly at his Commander, feeling that he had helped, somehow, in some small, insignificant way; he wasn't anyone important, anyway, so he couldn't do much. But even this little bit...Jim felt good with himself.

"Any time, Commander, Ser!" he saluted briskly, then turned on his heel to march out of the office like a conquering hero...only to tumble down the stairs and spectacularly roll down them, with a pained oomph and a gasped curse.

Commander Cullen's head appeared over him, as he slowly blinked to clear his head, and mentally checked all parts for pain and injury.

"Maker's breath, Jim," the Commander was shaking his head, but the was a laugh struggling to come out, clearly evident in the trembling of his lips and the mirth in his eyes. "Again?"

Jim straightened up, his face furiously red, then stood and patted his legs down, searching for sore spots. "It's a special talent, Ser," he murmured.

A few heads turned in the courtyard down below with the masculine, throaty laughter that echoed.

Jim was about ready to kick himself in the butt, if that were humanly possible. Why in the name of Andraste had he ever wished for more action? Oh, what he wouldn't give for a nice flight of stairs to fall down!

He cringed at the ungodly racket of the catapults pummelling the ancient walls of Adamant fortress, feeling as if everything around him –the soldiers rushing in, the boulders being hurtled, the fire bolts being hurled by mages- was happening in slow motion. Up ahead in the first line he could barely see the gleaming, imposing figure of Commander Cullen, clad in his gilded lion armour, raising his sword high to signal the attack; he could see men dropping like flies, men that perhaps he knew and he gnashed his teeth together, trying to make the tremor that was causing his knees to knock together go away. The battering ram kept advancing, and ladders still rose to the walls, man climbing up them like insects, like little ants trying to steal food from a giant's table. And he just stood there, frozen with fear, petrified with his first real taste of the horrible reality of war.

Jim had never been so terrified in his life, not even when that huge horde, with a dragon at its foremost, had swarmed Haven. He hadn't known all those people back then. The Inquisition had been nothing more than a romantic idea of peril and adventure- he didn't know how high the stakes were, what they were fighting for. He hadn't drank and gossiped and shared meals with any of the men in Haven. He cringed as another soldier fell down a ladder. He was too far to hear the scream, but he felt it climb up his own throat nevertheless. That man could have been someone Jim had shared an ale with.

Maker, protect us.

The massive door gave with an ungodly sound, wood splintering everywhere. A roar rose up collectively from the mouths of every Inquisition soldier, and to his surprise, Jim found his own voice rising up with them. To his surprise, he found he had raised his sword, and that his feet were carrying him in towards the battle.

Well. Better to burn than to fade away, right?

He arrived at the battle scene, just to see the Inquisitor and her group head up the ramparts, and Commander Cullen pause to look at her as she went; a feeling of dread and sympathy went through him. What must it feel like, watching the woman you loved walk into the fire like that? Jim never wanted to know.

But what you wanted and what really happened didn't always coincide. A few frantic hours of battle later, he was right next to Commander Cullen up on the now cleared ramparts, watching as the final battle of the Inquisitor, the Warden Commander and that colossal dragon caused a part of the battlements to collapse. He was standing right next to Commander Cullen when the Inquisitor fell, felt the anguished cry of "AMELIA! NO!" that the ex-templar gave slash right through him like a sword. He had to grasp onto the Commander's arm not to let him lunge after her, even though the distance between them was too great for him to do anything other than die with her.

He saw the look of anguish in Cullen's eyes, and it was sight he never wanted to see again. He felt as if he'd lost a member of his own family, and from the shocked, disbelieving silence all around him, he was sure everybody else felt the same. But the Commander...Jim could see he was crashed.

He shut himself up in a room, and requested that no one bother him, although there were a million things to be done, wounded to be tended, prisoners to be collared. Jim had just wrung his hands together, feeling totally helpless and hopeless. He couldn't help, there was nothing he could do. He could only stand there, watching the man that had been working his ass off for the Inquisition all this time bear his pain with dignity; imposing on that would just be cruel.

So the Commander wasn't there, when just few scant minutes later, a green fissure appeared and through it appeared the Inquisitor and her party, minus the Warden that had been following her. Jim took just one look- she seemed shaken and tired, but otherwise healthy. And for once, he didn't trip, he didn't fall, he didn't stop to make sure he was going the right way. His feet carried him faster than ever before, unwaveringly , unswervingly.

He burst through the door of the small room the Commander had shut himself in, breathless with joy and excitement.

"Ser! She's alive! She's back!"

Cullen gave him once disbelieving look before rushing out, and Jim leaned against the wall, his breath sawing, but a huge smile splitting his face.

Later that night, he was surprised to see a messenger deliver a short note from Commander Cullen...addressed simply to "Jim"

He infolded the piece of parchment and inside there were only a few hastily scribbled words.

'To the best messenger in the world, that carried the best news ever. Thank you.

Cullen '

Jim rose from the chair, moving his head slowly from side to side to make the cricks in his neck go away, then stretched and sat down again with another sigh, giving the pile of reports a nasty look.

Me and my big mouth.

He should have learned by now, that Commander Cullen rarely said a word he didn't mean, and when he'd told Jim he'd take him up on his offer to do his paperwork for him, it hadn't been idle talk. There were so many reports to copy and deliver, so many...how did the man handle all that paperwork on a daily basis?

Commander Cullen needed a secretary, and that was final.

He'd left for Ferelden the previous day, the Inquisitor accompanying him, and Jim had been delighted to see them go, blushing a little under the speculative smiles of everyone present in the courtyard as they prepared their mounts. Jim had watched on, smiling brightly.

He couldn't be sure, but he didn't think the Commander and the Inquisitor had taken things ...ahem...to the next level yet. There had been kisses up in the ramparts, awkward fondling in dark corners when they thought people were not watching. But Jim had elevated watching those two, almost stalking them, to an art form, and he could almost swear: they hadn't been together like that yet. There was this level of tension, of expectation in the air around them. Like they both knew by now what they meant for each other, but were uncertain that the other party wanted to take things further.

Jim had had just about enough with them. He was ready to just step in and shout "just bend her over a table, already!". Of course, he'd have to be resigned to being transferred to some Maker-forgotten bog if he did that, he was well aware. So, he kept his mouth shut, and kept tabs on his favourite couple from afar.

He felt ridiculously protective of their relationship, he didn't want to screw it up. But...man, talk about slow romance!

He smiled to himself; there was this new recruit, a messenger like him, pretty as a button, that seemed to have taken a shine to him and he couldn't be happier. He had this silly grin on his face when he saw that look of awe on her face when she talked to him. It was no secret that Jim was pretty much the Commander's personal messenger, that he had gained the trust of a man that made most green recruits tremble in awe and fear when in his presence. The ego boost Jim had received from it had been enormous, and Leah, the messenger, was openly flirting with him.

Having a pretty young thing like her looking up to him had also had an unexpected effect: he didn't trip and fall down stairs anymore. Imagine that.

Jim sighed. Ah, life was good. A good job, doing something worthwhile, a pretty girl that looked at you with stars in her eyes- now if they could also defeat the bad guy and save the world, that would be grand, thank you very much.

With a groan he tried to focus back on the paperwork. Stupid reports, that had to be copied and filed and delivered. And this one was about the state of the lavatories, for fuck's sake, and why would such a report need to be copied and delivered to five different people?

Jim had the distinct impression the Commander was trolling him.

He tried to imagine what they must be doing in Felerden right now. Maybe they'd come back as a real couple. Perhaps she could be wearing a token of his feeling, a ring preferably. Maybe the Commander would take her to his childhood home, introduce her to his family.

Jim could only hope.

The few next days were frantic. The Inquisition was scoring one victory after the other against Corypheus; first in the Emerald Graves, where they had almost oblitarated the Venatori, and then in the Arbor Wilds, where they had dealt a decisive blow against the ancient magister, thwarting his plans to possess the Well of Sorrows. His general, Samson, was in custody and it all looked as if the struggle against him was reaching its final stretch.

Jim had been with the inquisition forces in the Arbor Wilds, running back and forth, carrying Commander Cullen's messages and reports while he coordinated the armed forces struggling to clear a path for the Inquisitor. It had been difficult, at one instance Jim had actually had to fight, feeling grateful that the Commander had insisted on proper military training for the Relay Officers as well. Leah had gotten hurt in one of the scuffles and Jim had been frantic, but now they were back in Skyhold, she was on the mend, and things had progressed between them to the point where Jim could officially call her his girlfriend.

Standing in the crowded office of Commander Cullen, along with his Lieutenants, listening attentively to his orders, he suddenly had a feeling that they were being watched. Turning just slightly, he caught sight of the Inquisitor, Amelia Trevelyan, leaning against the wall with a fond smile on her face, sizing the Commander up and down. Jim had to fight to suppress his smile. If that wasn't a hungry, almost predatory look fogging the Inquisitor's eyes, then his name wasn't Jim. The Commander noticed her just then, and a small smile tilted the corner of his mouth for an instance, before he hastily dismissed all the people in the room, Jim included. The young messenger smiled again, stalling near the door that had been firmly closed behind him, then once he was sure no one else was watching, he inched to the left, where he'd found out that a sizable crack between the door casing and the rough stone wall could afford him a limited view of the room.

He wasn't a pervert, or a stalker. He'd used that crack to check up on his Commander, especially when he suspected that his lyrium addiction had been giving him trouble, eager to make sure that Cullen, being the intensely private man that he was-proud and stubborn- wasn't suffering without help. More than once, Jim had taken it upon himself to drop a hint to the Inquisitor or to a healer that the Commander seemed to be feeling a little off.

Before he could manoeuvre into position, though, he heard the sound of glass breaking, and then an ungodly din, as things were tumbling and crashing on the floor, accompanied by a gasp.

"Ser!" he knocked on the door, alarmed. "Is everything alright, Ser?" His hand was already clasped on the door handle, when he heard a muted laugh and a groan.

"For fuck's sake..."he heard the Commander groan. "It's Jim."

A bubbly laughter answered him and then the Inquisitor's voice spoke up. "Everything is just perfect, Jim," she cried out. "I'm not doing anything to you precious Commander." A small pause and then another girly giggle. "Yet," she added.

"Oh, Maker's breath!" The Commander was laughing too. "Go away, you damned ill-timed nuisance!"

Jim frowned, then with a flash of understanding he realised what he had almost interrupted. He blushed, then muttered an apology and turned away to leave, feeling mortified. He'd been hoping they would take the next step for months now, and he had almost ruined it himself!

But his stride faltered on the first step and he then turned back, biting his lip.

One look. Just one look. No, he told himself, it's wrong. You shouldn't.

But that crack on the wall seemed to be beckoning him, and in the end, he was unable to resist. Blushing furiously, he snuck just one look, then gasped and turned away, leaning against the wall for support as his knees had just gone weak.

Back in the room, Commander Cullen had perched the Inquisitor on the strong, sturdy table, then climbed over her. Pieces of armour had already been strewn about, and the instance Jim had caught was of the tall ex-templar, leaning over a bare-chested inquisitor, smiling wolfishly, his caramel eyes burning.

Jim stood there, outside the door, smiling and grinning and feeling like a complete idiot, hearing muted gasps and moans coming through the door, looking up at the sky with happiness making his face shine.

"Finally," he murmured, then shot a fond look at the door before going down to find his Leah. The table seemed like a very good idea.

And this was it. This was the end. It was only a matter of narrowing down the location of Corypheus' lair, now, and soon this would be over. That raven haired witch had told the Inquisitor she now knew how to match Corypheus' dragon; it was just a matter of finding him, or him coming to them.

Jim didn't want to dwell on what that would mean, that there was a chance that after all the Inquisition had accomplished, they could end up losing. No, they had to win, they would win. Commander Cullen had taken a fistful of green, bright-eyed recruits and created an army to be feared. Sister Nightingale's vast network of spies had been made into another, second army, ready to fight from the shadows. Lady Josephine had skilfully led the Inquisition into becoming a veritable diplomatic force that empires bowed before. And the Inquisitor herself had evolved from a reluctant, unwilling participant into this whole mess into a leader that had shaped, was still shaping, and would undoubtedly shape the future of Thedas even further.

They would win. They had to. Everything they had done was leading to this here point in history, and Jim was proud to be a part of it.

He went by the chapel, and caught a glimpse of Commander Cullen praying. His gut clenched. They had to win. Or the quiet, admirable man praying on his knees in front of Jim would have everything to lose. He thought of Leah, who had told him that she loved him the previous night, who had begged him not to follow the Commander into battle because she was afraid of losing him, and he felt sympathy nearly overwhelm him. If Leah was afraid for him, Senior Relay Officer Jim Sutherland, what must the Commander be feeling knowing the woman he loved would soon battle the insane monster that had started all this?

Maker, where did he find the courage to sent her out every time, praying and hoping and wishing she'd come back, counting the minutes until she did? Jim would have gone mad in his place.

Just then, he saw the Inquisitor walk into the chapel, and respectfully stepped away, to give them time alone. He strolled around the garden, until he saw Commander Cullen leave, then approached the chapel wearily again. The Inquisitor was standing before the statue of Andraste, gazing up into her face, her shoulders stiff and her back straight.

"My lady?" Jim murmured.

She turned over her shoulder and offered him a slight smile. "Jim," she acknowledged him, the chuckled a little. "Who else could it be?"

Jim opted not to say anything, just approached a few more steps, eager to offer any assistance that he could. He was shocked a little when she patted him on the shoulder, then offered him a bright smile.

"You have been following ...this thing between me and Cullen from the beginning," she smirked at him, then her face fell. "And now the end is approaching."

"My Lady," Jim protested, "don't say that! You will win! I know it!"

The smile that graced her lips was self-mocking and a little sad. "I hope so, Jim," she whispered, and then looked right into his eyes, grasping one of his hands. "But if I don't...promise me one thing. Please."

Jim blushed, then fidgeted awkwardly, before nodding. "Anything, my Lady."

"Take care of Cullen? I don't think there's another person here in Skyhold that loves him near as half as you do." She chuckled again, the blushed prettily. "Except me, of course."

Jim smiled too, colour spreading down his face and neck. "Of course, my Lady. I would die for my Commander."

She looked at the statue in front of her, determination in her eyes.

"So would I, Jim. So would I."

"Any word, yet?"

"No, Ser," Jim narrowed his lips. "Nothing."

Commander Cullen sighed, then rubbed his forehead. "Would you please run up to Sister Nightingale's headquarters, Jim? See if she's received a bird, or something?"

"I just did, Ser, before coming here," Jim replied. "She said nothing yet."

Cullen got up and started pacing around the room, agitated and anxious beyond sitting still any more. He started arranging and re-arranging the books on the bookshelves, the items on his desk. Jim could see he was becoming more and more frustrated by the minute, and wished there was something he could do to help...

"Will you just stop standing there like a fucking statue, for fuck's sake?" The Commander yelled at him, then threw his hands in the air. "Maker's breath! Just do something!"

Jim almost drew back in fear, but then he remembered the promise he had given the Inquisitor and his resolved hardened. "Just tell me what to do to help, Ser, and I'll do it." he quietly said. "Would taking a tumble down the stairs help? It might make you laugh."

Cullen gave his messenger a startled look, blinked twice, then a slow smile spread on his face. He clasped Jim's shoulder in a brotherly way, like he would to an old friend, then sighed, all tension leaving him.

"No need, my good man, no need," he murmured. "But tell me...do you know how to play chess?"

"Yes, Ser."

"Good. I'll set up the chess board."

It felt like a dream. A wonderful, please-don't-let-me-wake dream. Jim had this feeling as he stood among the soldiers and common folk, cheering till his throat was sure to close down, as the Inquisitor made her triumphant entry though Skyhold's door. He felt tears prickle his eyes, then roll down his cheeks, but he didn't care, because there were a lot of wet eyes in the crowd around him, watching Lady Trevelyan make her way up the stairs to where her advisors awaited her. His heart lurched with happiness in his chest, seeing the way Commander Cullen opened his arms to her, and she burrowed against him, holding on tight, while the cheers around rose to fever pitch.

Maker be blessed. She was here, alive, victorious. The hole in the sky had been closed, the world had been saved, the evilness that had been Corypheus vanquished. And his Commander once again had the woman he loved in his arms, safe, warm, alive.

It was a fucking miracle.

He danced the night away, drank like a fish, joked and laughed with Leah perched on his lap all through the night. The courtyard had been turned into one huge feast, bonfires everywhere, booze flowing, people delirious with joy. Many couples were openly kissing in dark corners, and just before he dragged his girlfriend behind him to find a nice little secluded spot of his own to celebrate the victory of life over death in the most primal of ways, he spared a look at the main hall, where the inner circle and all the important people were also celebrating and smiled fondly.

He hoped they'd give them some time alone, all those jackals, or else, he, Senior Relay Officer Jim Sutherland, might have to take things into his own hands. Leah giggled, dragging him after her, her hands already loosening the laces on her tunic and Jim laughed and tickled her, making her shriek, before picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder, a huge grin on his face.

This was a night for love and joy and hope. He hoped they knew that.

"Jim," Commander Cullen appeared out of nowhere, almost blocking the door of Jim's modest quarter's. "There you are," the ex-templar fidgeted in place, then ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I need your help."

"Ser?"

"Don't Ser me, you dope," Commander Cullen rolled his eyes. "Come here. I need your help."

Jim got up, leaving a fake sigh of frustration. "It is my day off, Commander."

"It will only take a minute," Cullen blushed. "I want you to deliver this," and he put a small box firmly into Jim's hand, "to Amelia."

Jim looked at the small box, then realisation widened his eyes. "A ring?"

"Yes. Maker's breath, yes."

Jim shot the taller man a stern look. It had been months since the Inquisition had defeated Corypheus, and during those months, he could safely say he and his Commander had become...friends...of a sort. Jim was still painfully respectful of his commander, and always maintained the proper way of addressing him. But their weekly chess game had become a tradition, and everybody knew that if you wanted something done quicker with the Commander, you'd better go though Jim.

And if you wanted to annoy, aggravate or interrupt the Commander in any way, especially when he was with the Inquisitor then...you'd have to go through Jim.

"But Ser," he protested, still looking at the small box, "don't you think Lady Amelia would prefer a more...romantic proposal?"

Cullen huffed, then shot his messenger a pleading look. "I'm not like you, Jim. I'll probably stutter and fidget and embarrass myself."

Jim snorted at that. He had asked Leah to marry him a month ago, and the proposal had gone well, but inside, Jim had been an anxious pile of jittery nerves. Still even he had managed to give the girl some romance, proposing up on the ramparts, with the sun fading into a glorious sunset.

"But..."

"And besides," Cullen clapped Jim on the back, "you have been with us all the way, Jim, from that first kiss I gave her on the battlements. It's only fitting you should be the one doing this."

Jim felt his eyes almost glaze over with moved tears that he blinked away hastily. "Alright then, Ser." He had to gulp to make the knot blocking his throat go down. "Should I tell her anything?"

"Tell her..." Cullen smiled that lopsided grin of his, that made women swoon left and right. "Tell her that Commander Cullen wants to share the rest of his life with her, and if she hasn't gotten the message yet, it's time she should."

A slow smile spread on Jim's mouth. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed. "That is just...brilliant!"

A message delivered safely, a happy, excited shriek ringing in his ears and a kiss on his cheek later, Jim was back to report to his Commander, who was waiting impatiently in his office.

"Well?" he snapped as soon as Jim was through the door. "What did she say?"

"She said that this message had been delayed for far too long, Commander. She had been expecting it for ages now."

Cullen smiled expectantly. "Then... she said yes?"

"Of course, Ser," Jim chuckled, laughing now to see the happiness that was making Commander Cullen's face light up, he lines of worry on his face disappear. "She's waiting for you in her chambers."

Cullen got up, blushing a little, then straightened his hair and checked that his clothes were in order. "How do I look?"

"Dashing, Ser."

"Thanks, Jim," Cullen went past him, then stopped a minute before he was out the door and turned to the young man that was smiling in pure glee by his desk.

"You do realise of course," he said, "that you simply must be the best man at the wedding, right, Jim?"

"Me, Ser?" Jim brought his hand to his heart, shaken and awed. "Are you sure?"

Commander Cullen smiled warmly. "Who else Jim?" he casually asked. "I don't think there's anyone that had been rooting for us from the beginning like you did."

Jim shrugged.

"True," he just said. "What can I say? You guys were adorable."

Then he smiled, as the door closed behind Commander Cullen, his laughter strong and bold and happy as the man was going down the stairs.

Just then, Jim remembered that a whole piece of rock had come unglued from that accursed fourth landing top step this morning, and in the fading light, the Commander might not see it.

"SER!" He shouted, rushing out. "WHATCH OUT FOR THAT STEP, SER!"

The end