and, as some princess might, she still calls him a knight ( closed )

[elegiaque]

WHO: Gwenaëlle Vauquelin and Cullen Rutherford
WHAT: Sad jerks.
WHEN: Currentish.
WHERE: Kirkwall, near the docks.
NOTES: Warnings TBA if necessary.

It isn't difficult to find out where Cullen is spending his days, now they're in Kirkwall; he is a rather visible force in the Inquisition, perhaps the most visible now he's here and the rest of the leadership remains in Skyhold. A few questions asked by - not her, actually, but by Yva, a maid prepared to understand that none of her lady's whims should be ignored if any of her lady's ill-temper is to be appeased. Yva locates the space he's using at the docks, digs the wine out of the trunk to which it was relegated, makes the arrangements that her lady be escorted safely from the Gallows -

and Gwenaëlle is very nearly in something that resembles 'not the worst of humors' when she sweeps unannounced into Cullen's office space and wiggles the bottle between his face and whatever much less interesting paper he was poring over a moment ago.

"This cost my lord a small fortune," she informs him, "and I cannot drink it alone."

She has ulterior motives, but -

He probably needs a break, anyway.

Comments

[elegiaque]

I will, he says, and a small part of her unclenches; he will, and if she were reasoning instead of reacting then she'd know that he's one of many who would. She's never been alone here - there is a small standing army of those who care for her, who would raise up weapons for her. Who have done, already; Bellamy's voice carrying across the battlefield, shouting that she be taken to safety.

It isn't fair that she questions it, but neither is it rational. She is deathly terrified in a bone-deep way she will have to come through, one day - and probably, thanks to Wren Coupe, one day soon. Skyhold has long allowed her to hide in the places she feels safe, hide from the worst of the hurts she hasn't dealt with, but she can't hide behind walls and other people's hands forever. Some fears have to be conquered.

When she has to move forward, though, she won't be alone. And it means more to her than she can express in any way other than letting him have her hand, her thin fingers curling tight around his larger one.

"I hurt Alistair," she says, quiet. "He's all right - he is. I checked. I called a healer. But this stupid shard-- I've another power, and I didn't know, and I hurt him when we were trying to practise with the shield. I know I can't just go about, uncontrolled--"

It isn't safe for anyone else.

"I just, I don't want to fight."

She'll have to learn; she understands that, fears a worse accident than Alistair's bump to the head if she doesn't, but she fears being pushed into the field in a way that's much more kneejerk than rational.

[lionheartedman]

Puppy is crunching away at his portion of the apple, the picture of a contented pup, and so probably not very reassuring looking. Still, the look he gives Gwen, the little burbling whuff, it says that he will also protect her. She is far from alone.

Cullen is, predictably, out of his depth. He knows that her melancholy is not helpful. He's the only one who's allowed to be hating on himself in this office, madam. When she won't take his hand, he moves closer so that he can take hers. Across half the couch, into her personal space, causing her to either pull her feet in further or end up with his thigh pinning them to the cushions. It puts him close enough to take her hand, though, the one with the shard, and he's not the slightest bit hesitant, not the slightest bit afraid.

"Any weapon in untrained hands is dangerous. What is important is what you do now. Learning to control the power inside of you and actively using it in the field are two very different things. One is essential, one is by choice. And you do have the choice. No one will make you fight. Anyone who tries, you send them to me."

This is his most serious of faces, Gwen. Do not try to brush him off. He won't stand for it.