Archive of Our Own ^beta

Codex: A blank piece of parchment left on the Commander’s desk, heavily indented as though the letter writer pressed much too hard while writing on a separate page above. Held in the proper light, words can be made out in their entirety.

Sweetling,

Before I say what's on my mind, let me begin with a plea: Leliana, I know you are reading this. There is no Inquisition business contained herein. I beg your indulgence for a modicum of privacy—these words are meant for an audience of one, and they are difficult to set down knowing others will read them.

I will address official correspondence to the Inquisitor. If I use a more informal appellation, please do us the courtesy of passing those missives along unmolested.

Now. Where was I? Ah, yes!

In short, I miss you terribly.

You've been haunting my dreams of late—a clear sign of my discomfiture with our current situation. I will strive to handle it better.

I'll write more in my next letter to you.

Warmest Regards,
Yours,

Cullen

Codex: A rolled missive that has fallen under the Inquisitor’s desk. The handwriting is a pointed cursive, and looks much the same as the writing from the first letter.

Dove,

Cole has been dogging my steps for days now. Is this your doing? How many inhabitants of this keep have you set to looking after me while you are away?

On reflection, don't answer that. Ha.

He insists on sending cryptic notes and appearing out of nowhere to share some devastating truth or other with me at all hours of the day and night! It is exhausting, and quite painful.

I find that I am both rather upset you've set him loose upon me while you're away and simultaneously grateful you don't have to witness the state it puts me in. We have much to discuss when you come home arrive back at Skyhold come home.

I pray the Maker will speed your steps back to me.

Ever Yours,

Cullen

Codex: A missive left on the War Room table in Skyhold, written in a different hand.

Report: On Taking Caer Bronach

Seeker Pentaghast has successfully taken Caer Bronach in Crestwood with the assistance of our squadrons. The keep is ours. Please send the remainder of D Company to begin rotation of duties.

Overnight watch noted pillar of smoke coming from the forested hills to the north, scouts immediately dispatched. Discovered burned out campsite near Three Trout Pond with remnants of Inquisition gear. Two bodies found onsite: badly burned, embers hot. Secondary burn pit found to the east: disposal of bodies, likely Red Templars. Ashes cold.

On extended search, secondary battle site found behind nearby bluff. Two Red Templar assassins dead, magic users involved. Footsteps leading off to the North. Estimate five persons on foot, one with the gait of a dwarf.

Before leaving the site, scout encountered three mounts tied together on a broken highline wandering in the brush. Confirmed by SP to be the Inquisitor's red hart and the horses belonging to Lord Pavus and Warden Blackwall on arrival at CB. Scouts searching caves to the north for signs of the Inquisitor's party.

Will send updates the moment we know more.

Charter

Codex: A pair of missives crushed in the bottom of a singed and dirtied rucksack. The penmanship suggests it is from the first letter writer.

Charter,

E Company is being dispatched to Caer Bronach. They can arrive a full day earlier, stationed as they are in the Hinterlands on a resource gathering mission.

Please send word of the Inquisitor’s party with all haste.

CSR, Cmdr

 

⚶ ⚶ ⚶

Charter,

If no word is to be had by nightfall, please send a message regardless. Send out the scouts of E Company when they arrive, if you must.

CSR, Cmdr

Codex: A hand-copied letter tucked in behind a statue of Andraste in the aerie at the top of Skyhold’s atrium near Leliana's desk. The handwriting suggests it was the letter writer of the prior report who made this copy.

Sweetest,

I have sent this message myself to ensure that yours will be the only eyes to see what I set down herein, for I must confess the things in my heart lest it burst in my chest for want of expression. Trying as it is, I am endeavouring to remain calm and confident in the face of the reports we have received from Crestwood but I cannot keep up the facade as well as I ought.

I am desperate to hear from you, love! Are you well? I know you’ve been injured, and I am utilizing every ounce of my patience not to march half the army down the mountain, or to simply steal Laertes from the stables and abscond to you on my own.

My rational self knows this urge to be foolish—that you are more than capable of looking after yourself. But the part of my soul that feels your absence as a little death, that longs to see the light in your eyes and feel your hand in mine is slowly driving me mad. I dream of you nearly every night now. They are not always pleasant dreams, but of late they have been... vivid, and rather intimate.

Honestly, I must resist the urge to strike the prior line from the page. It feels highly inappropriate to tell you all this in a letter, but I miss you so!

Please know that above all else, that I love you. You are so dear to me! And I cannot wait to hold you in my arms once again.

I remain,

Yours.

Cullen

Codex: A carefully folded parchment letter left spread out on the Commander's desk. Next to the papers is a tiny pile of dried and pressed elderflowers. If one were to count them out, they would note there are exactly a dozen of them. 

My Rajelan,

Creators, I miss you so much! I'm sorry I haven't been able to write you before now--you must be wearing yourself out with worry! Vhenan, I knew this parting would be hard on us, but I had no idea quite how hard. Maybe it is simply that we’re in Ferelden, but everything reminds me of you.

The Grey Warden (Alistair) is with us, so I ought to give Hawke some well-deserved flowers for that, at least. He’s... interesting. Maybe it's his stature, but he looks so much like you, I thought for a moment you could almost be brothers! But Varric disagrees. He points to the juvenile humor as something no Rutherford would be likely to acquire from life in a little village like Honnleath, especially. Has Varric met anyone in your family before?

Rajelan’s missing you as well, I expect. Were you here, he’d beg you for carrot treats and crown your head with drooly kisses, just like I would.

As for Leliana. I got her to agree to leaving our private correspondence alone, as a favor to me and as a pathetic sort of privilege for being the Inquisitor. I used my saddest eyes on Charter—you know the ones—and I’m hopeful the sincerity of the request was properly passed on. I have no doubt that you’ll know whether she kept her word this time.

I wish this could be the part where I get to write “I’m coming home soon,” but there’s still a rift to close and a dragon to fight here in Crestwood.

You wouldn’t want to send Sera and The Bull down here, would you? I could send Hawke, Cassandra, and this Alistair ahead to Skyhold if they came down. Blackwall might be interested in tagging along, too; it’s probably been years since he’s been in the company of another Grey Warden. It’s funny, though. He’s a little standoffish with our newest guest. Of course, the information Alistair brought with him would sober any Warden, I imagine.

I love you so much and I miss you more every second we’re apart, ma vhen’amelan. It’s unbearable—especially at night in the quiet of my tent. You’ve gotten your wish there, though, because I do remember everything about our last evening together with perfect clarity, you incorrigible rascal of a man! Cassandra caught me in a moment of weakness mumbling a line of the Chant I heard fall from your lips, and now her personal copy of the damned thing is weighing down my pack!

So it brings me no small satisfaction to hear that your dreams have been similarly afflicted. Let’s make a deal. You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine. Call it... comparing notes?

I cannot wait to be home in your arms, in your bed! I’ll be back as soon as I can possibly manage it. In the meantime, please, take care of yourself. Don't wallow in physical misery solely because it matches how wretched you feel on the inside. My requirements are that you look to your own needs at least as well as you would look after mine. Until we see each other again, know that my thoughts are always drifting off to a lonesome tower up in the mountains, where the man I love is hopefully sipping some warming willow bark tea and no doubt penning missives to half of Thedas.

I’ll be careful out here, I promise. Mythal’enaste, vhenan.

Missing you terribly,

Lavellan