A/N: For those who have read any of my other stories, first: thank you! Second, this will update slightly less frequently, as I am working on being a little more deliberate with my writing. Of course, that probably means every other day instead of every day, but fair warning. I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

"Are you unhappy at Skyhold?"

Cullen looked up from his desk to see Ellana Lavellan framed in the doorway. He searched her face for signs of a joke, rare as it would be from her, but it was serious and thoughtful as always. Since Solas had returned she'd regained her capacity for joy, but humor had never been an arrow in her considerable quiver of talents. Cullen had imagined dozens of conversations with her, and in them he always asked if her earnestness was a remnant of her Dalish upbringing, a consequence of the mark, or simply the nature she'd been born to. She was always so pensive.

It was appealing, that small silence she carried around inside of her like a secret. He'd wanted to know about that more than anything.

Now, of course, he was glad he hadn't learned. Ellana turned towards her old lover like a blossom to the sun, and Cullen's cowardice in his absence had served a purpose after all. She knew nothing of his feelings. The Maker answered prayers in the strangest ways.

Her brow creased, and he realized she was waiting for him to respond. "We do important work, Inquisitor," he said. "Thedas is all the better for your efforts. I'm pleased and proud to be a part of it."

"Which is no answer, Commander," she said pointedly.

"I'm not unhappy."

"But not happy. It's been noticed."

What did she want him to say? That Skyhold was frantic and loud to his ears? That she'd taken the last quiet space away with her to share with someone else? That he'd taken to asking Dorian to play chess every other day, just because it gave him an excuse to walk through the room of colors where she sat so often, just to nod to her in passing?

Or maybe the harder truth. Ellana was simply another in a line of mages he'd loved in loneliness. Solona. Hawke. They all housed a power that called out to him all the more strongly because it was forbidden. Maybe all Templars felt it. Maybe it was the lyrium. Maybe it was their training. He'd never asked. If he was normal, then the Templars were flawed. If not, then he was flawed. Either way, he'd never given in. Sufficient strength could overcome any weakness. Even if it burned.

"I'm sorry if my work hasn't been satisfactory," he said instead.

She crossed her arms. "Your work is, as always, exemplary. This isn't about your work," she said. "It's about you. Personally. Are you having lyrium cravings again?"

He'd tensed at the word 'personal' but relaxed again when the question was one he could answer with an easy heart. "No. The days are not without pain, and the nights no less full of memory, but I'm strong enough to handle them. And the physical effects are nearly gone."

There was no softening of her face, no look of relief. She studied him with her pale eyes, and he understood with a pang that she didn't believe him. She didn't trust him not to lie to her. Had they really drifted so far? "I swear it, Inquisitor. As your Commander," he said.

She nodded once, reluctantly. A messenger pushed past her with a hurried apology and handed Cullen several reports that smelled of raven. More missives from Leliana, of course. New ground explored. More troop decisions to make. Fewer people to trust. Just once he'd like it if she sent him a report that said all of Thedas was taking a week off of fighting. It seemed very unfair that the better he did his job, the more they spread their influence and peace across the land, the more reports he got about future fights.

When he'd handed over his own messages for delivery and turned back to his guest, he saw her examining his low table in the corner. It was nominally for casual meals, but in practice it was a repository for the random detritus of any military commander, particularly those communications with less than urgent status. As she examined it, a light smiled played across her mouth. Small drops of aching, like acid, scored his heart as he watched her. She laughed softly, oblivious.

He almost asked her what was so amusing when she volunteered it herself. "Where did the flowers come from?" she asked, gesturing to the one splash of color in his otherwise very functional office.

"One of my new lieutenants brings cuttings up from the Chantry garden every once in a while, when they can be spared. It's good to have a touch of nature around the place," he said.

"I'd think you'd be tired of being surrounded by nature, with that roof you still won't let us fix."

He smiled for the first time. "That's not nature, just the elements," he said. He would never say it aloud, but he needed the broken roof to remind him of his duties and his goals. The dangers of the storms and the dreams of the stars. "Nature isn't simply the outdoors. Ser Orvin understands it well. Plus he's Fereldan, and we both miss the place. It had the right kind of nature. Clean and simple. Nothing like this. Or the Arbor Wilds, which I will thank you never to take us to again."

Ellana didn't look at him as she touched the petals with her finger in meditation. He shivered. She seemed to reach the end of her thoughts and turned to him with a new purpose. "I've intruded on you for too long. I'll take your assurances that you're okay, for now, but please come to me if that changes. Promise me, Cullen."

Her use of his name was more commanding than her words. "I promise, Ellana."

Two weeks later Ellana attended his morning command briefing, as she sometimes did. His captains were there, of course, as were the more military-minded Inquisition members who didn't quite fall under the umbrella of armed forces. Iron Bull attended in his role of mercenary liaison, Vivienne as the Circle and the Chantry's spokeswoman, Blackwall as the Warden's representative and Cassandra stood in for the new Templar Order. The Inquisitor ran them all, in one way or another, and could have dictated to them as she pleased, but in these meetings she tended to watch from the corner and absorb rather than contribute any of her own thoughts. The military ran to her through him, and she took care not to undermine it.

The business was routine, the meeting uneventful, and he breathed a sigh of relief that there were no new problems to chase down. Even the mercenaries were happy with their pay, which Iron Bull assured him never happened. He was about to dismiss them when Ellana spoke from behind him. "Commander, one last order of business."

Cullen turned around, a little surprised, but nodded. She stepped around to the foot of the table and leaned against it. "I apologize for the short notice, but we only learned of it this morning. Leliana has been looking for the whereabouts of some of the Seekers we never found, on Cassandra's behalf. We heard word of them in the south of Fereldan, and we want to make contact as soon as possible."

"Of course, Inquisitor," he said. He racked his brain, trying to remember the forces they had in the area. "I'll let you know which company I think we should divert this afternoon."

She shook her head. "I don't want that many people to go. Seekers are high-strung. Touchy," she said. She looked Cassandra, who snorted. Ellana continued with a smile, "This is a diplomatic mission, not a call to arms. Josephine agrees."

"As you wish. But our ambassador is surely more equipped than I to supply you with the resources you need?"

"Not in this case. We agreed that you and Cassandra, combined, are our best chance of a peaceful result," said Ellana. "A three week mission, one week to Fereldan and back, with a week in between to negotiate. All of my authority will go with you, and you'll be empowered to make any deal you think is appropriate to win them to our cause."

He shot a look at Cassandra, who looked surprised but didn't argue. Well, he was going to bloody well argue. "I can't be away from Skyhold that long. There are a thousand important things for a Commander to do in a day, much less three weeks," he said. He winced and looked at Cassandra again. "Not that the Seekers aren't also important."

The Seeker's face remained impassive. "I took your meaning, Commander. But I also take hers. I am an obvious choice, true, but you are no less obvious. You command power, which they will respect. The power is in your arms and your weapons, not just your title, which they will respect more. You know the Templar ways, which will make you persuasive, and yet are not one, which will keep you safe. You are no longer vulnerable to our abilities over lyrium, which would be a concern with a Templar or a mage. And we may both protect ourselves on a journey without a contingent of guards."

They were all good points, each one. And yet it felt like falling over a cliff. He looked at Ellana with what he hoped was determination instead of despair. "There must be others who could do this. My duty is here."

"Your duty is where I send you," she said, not unkindly. "There are others. I chose you. As for Skyhold, I think this will be an opportunity for me as well. I've been wanting to learn more about the intricacies of command. How better to do so than to step into your role while you're gone?"

Iron Bull coughed loudly, but not loudly enough to cover his laughter, and even Cullen's well-trained captains couldn't keep their mouths closed. Cullen didn't even try to hide his horror. "You're going to assume the role of Commander?" he asked. Ellana was smart, brave, and a superb mage and diplomat. But she could barely grasp the strategy involved in chess.

"Well, no, not really assume. More brush against. Your captains will be able to assist me most ably. They are very good at their jobs, as you yourself have told me." She held up a hand at Cullen's continued protests. "Enough. I'm the Inquisitor. This is a thing I must understand. Besides, Leliana assured me that the world of Thedas is very peaceful right now."

"You'll change that in a hurry, Boss," muttered Bull, but Ellana either didn't hear him or chose not to. Her eyes watched Cullen's face, waiting for the next argument.

Cullen didn't have one. A heavy weight settled in his stomach as he finally understood. Their conversation a few weeks ago had been a test, and he'd failed. She was preparing the way to be rid of him. If he could undertake this task and leave them all for so long without incident, then it would be the final proof that the Inquisition could manage well without an aging, burdened ex-Templar at the helm of her forces.

There was little doubt they would manage easily. But on the small chance something went wrong, she'd only sent him on a mission, not outright dismissed him. It made sense. It was actually very well thought out. Perhaps she was a better strategist than he'd allowed.

He nodded his assent, and the meeting broke up. He stood and climbed the ladder to his open room. It had been awhile since he'd done field work. He hoped he remembered how to pack.

They left at first light. He tried not to show his exhaustion as he settled the saddlebags on his mount. Cassandra, as usual, looked as fresh and alert. Cullen envied the luck that had made her a person in tune with mornings. And with animals. Her personal mount was settled and quiet, like her, while his stallion fought and twitched on the lead. He was anxious to run.

Dennet was little comfort. Cullen swore under his breath as a brown flank danced away from him again. "You wanted a charger who was ready for the fight, Commander. Torch here is just that. Can't blame a creature for his nature," the horse master said. He turned to Cassandra's dappled gray gelding. "This boy, now, he's a soft one for all he'll give you hell on the field. A nice, steady mount."

Cassandra smiled slightly and rubbed her hand over the calm horse beside her. Cullen grunted in victory as he finally got the saddlebags tied and the tack straightened. It was time to go, before the hold woke and there was too much of a fuss at their departure. He didn't want goodbyes. He'd already said them silently, releasing them into the hold under the cover of midnight.

Midnight had come and gone easily for him. Most of his exhaustion wasn't from the early morning hour, but from the late night he'd spent cleaning out his office. The piles of paper were gone, the personal items put away in the trunks ready for sending, the supplies neatly ordered and ready for the Inquisitor's successor to take over. When he'd finally fallen into dreamless sleep, the place was stark and deserted.

It had been like cleaning out his soul.

Cullen led them to the gate and prepared to mount. There was no one else around, and he was sadly proud of that. He'd just put his foot in the stirrup when a voice called out, "Cassandra! Cullen!"

His foot slowly lowered to solid ground again. The Inquisitor had come after all. She must have poured restorative magic into herself to look so cheerful, but she was smiling from ear-to-ear. Solas trailed her more soberly, and Cullen's hand closed into a loose fist. The more senior members of the Inquisition knew his ties to Corypheus, what he'd started and they'd ended. So many people had died for him, but he wasn't in a cell. Samson was, rotting and insane, but the elf that had made it all happen was alive and free.

Ellana said he was trustworthy. Leliana agreed. They surely knew better than he did, and so he followed their lead. It didn't meant he liked it. And it wasn't all because he was jealous of the easy way his hands brushed over Ellana's back.

"I wanted to say goodbye," said Ellana, "and make sure you have everything you need."

"You were very thorough," said Cassandra. "Though of course we cannot prepare for every eventuality. We will report regularly."

"Make sure you do. I want to know every detail." Ellana stepped forward suddenly and hugged Cassandra around her waist. The height difference meant the Inquisitor was mostly hugging breastplate, and the metal couldn't have been comfortable against her skin, but she didn't let go for some time. When she stepped back, she wiped away a tear. "Be careful. Your Maker watch over you."

Cassandra looked bemused but solemnly promised to try. Ellana turned to Cullen, who stepped away reflexively. He'd dreamed of her hands on him too often to want it here, in front of the others, right before he was dismissed.

Fortunately, the Inquisitor smiled again, and the tears vanished. "Don't worry, Commander. I have a different gift for you."

Solas reached around and handed her a small pouch, which she happily tossed to Cullen. He caught it adroitly and looked at it with confusion. She bounced a little on her feet. "They're bulbs from flowers native to the Frostbacks. I thought you could take them with you to your comfortable old nature. Maybe plant some new things while you're there."

He didn't have the heart to tell her that it was dangerous to plant flowers where they didn't belong. They might die, or worse they might live so well they choked away all of the existing life. From Solas's face, he knew the same thing, but Ellana looked so pleased with herself that neither of them said a word. Instead, Cullen placed the seeds carefully in one of his bags and thanked her with sincerity. "Try not to start a war," he added. He looked at Solas when he said it, and the elven man smiled tightly.

"Yes, ser," she said, saluting. She leaned back into her lover, who wrapped his arms around her. "Nothing but routine patrols for three weeks."

Cullen nodded. He wanted to say a better goodbye, but there were no words inside of him. Solas whispered something into her ear softly, intimately, and she smiled in her quiet, thrilling way. It was time to go.

Cassandra was already on her horse when he mounted, and they made for the small bridge out of the keep. They both held their hands up in a silent goodbye, but Cullen couldn't resist one last look around before they walked under the arch. Skyhold was his home. He'd thought it would be his last, but no home ever was. He turned himself forward with reluctance and fought for composure.

Just before they reached the point where the horses could open up, he felt a wave of magic crash over him. It was cool on his mind as it soothed it, and he recognized a healing spell. His exhaustion lifted. He couldn't stop the flash of joy, even with the intrusion of so much dangerous, uncomfortable magic. Ellana had seen his need and responded, one last time.

He twisted around in the saddle to wave to her and acknowledge the gift, but she wasn't at the gate. Solas was, and his power drew back into his hand with a whip-crack sound that broke Cullen's heart.