Chapter Text
It was sometime after midnight when the crying started, as it always was. Cullen was always grateful for the seemingly endless patience of the Chantry sisters who he shared the building with. They always smiled and said they hadn’t heard a thing, but by the way the wails bounced off the stone walls he was almost certain they were merely trying to spare him any guilt. After all, Madame de Fer had moved out of the Chantry after only two nights to one of Haven’s cabins, under the guise of giving Mother Giselle her room, but Cullen knew the interrupted sleep wasn’t helping anyone. It certainly wasn’t helping him.
“Come on now. It’s not that bad. You should try getting stabbed, that really hurts.” He said, lifting the very unhappy baby from the cot by his bed. His words didn’t seem to do much to comfort the teething child, and he sighed as he prepared himself for another long night. His head was already throbbing, and being completely unable to do anything to ease either of their pain always made him feel bad.
“Been left with the parenting duties?” A voice surprised him, and Cullen looked up to see Dorian Pavus stood in the doorway, looking bemused. The mage had joined them only a couple of days ago, after helping the Herald in Redcliffe. Cullen had tried to keep past prejudices firmly in the past, especially when he’d heard the man was the son of a Magister as well as a mage, but even so he eyed him warily.
“Serah Pavus, do you often walk into private quarters in the Chantry in the middle of the night?” He hadn’t meant to sound quite so accusatory, but Dorian seemed to take it with good humour, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him to at least try and keep the sound of crying contained. Cullen was immediately grateful for that small gesture alone.
“I do when there’s the eerie sound of a crying infant in a building almost solely inhabited by Priests yes.” Dorian leaned against the wall casually, a slight smirk on his face and apparently unbothered by the racket coming from the tiny person against Cullen’s chest. “And I’d heard the rumours that our formidable Commander was a proud father and I simply had to see for myself.” He gave Cullen a curious look. “Is your wife not here? I didn’t think Templars got married.”
“Some do.” Cullen replied almost automatically, too used to answering questions about the Templars and their marital statuses lately, then sighed. “But no, I’m not married and never have been. He’s not mine... It’s complicated.”
“It certainly sounds it; I don’t know how you find the time to command an army.” Dorian smiled, his face softening a little, but free of sympathy which made a refreshing change. The pitying looks got very tiresome. “And what’s his name? I assume he has one?” Dorian seemed very interested in all this, and Cullen wasn’t quite sure why. He really was trying not to be suspicious, but he was trying to understand what the other man’s motive was.
“Tomas.” Cullen didn’t elaborate on the namesake, just breathed a small sigh of relief as Tomas started to quiet, obviously exhausted from his crying.
“You know, rubbing brandy into the gums is supposed to help with the pain.” Dorian suggested nonchalantly. “But that might just be Tevinter nonsense. Most noble families just get their slaves to raise their children.”
Cullen snorted despite himself. “I am not giving him brandy. It’ll pass. And I have some help, Flissa usually watches him in the day.” He shrugged, moving the now sleeping Tomas back to his cot, moving carefully so he didn’t wake him again.
“The Commander of the Inquisition, raising a baby that isn’t his with the tear in the Veil hanging right over our heads.” Dorian said quietly, as though he were thinking out loud. “One day you will have to tell me that story Commander, but for now I’ll leave you both to get some rest.”
“You should rest too. You know the Herald plans to try to close the Breach tomorrow.” Cullen pointed out, ignoring the way his stomach flipped at the very thought.
“An excellent point. Though I may get a brandy first, I have a sudden desire for it. No idea why.” Dorian winked and smiled, and Cullen found himself returning it. He still wasn’t sure why the Tevinter mage had come to talk to him, but he’d enjoyed the distraction. Perhaps he’d ask him why tomorrow, once the Breach was closed. He tried not to think about any other possibility as he looked at Tomas finally sleeping peacefully.
“Good night Commander.”
“Good night Dorian.”