Chapter Text
“Inquisitor, put the knife down.”
Katria Trevelyan rarely did what she was told, and this was no exception. She tightened her grip around her well-worn dagger, callouses underneath her gloves rubbing in familiar spots. Her eyes were the only thing that darted over to the source of the annoyed voice beside her while she stood in a defensive stance in the sparring ring of the Skyhold courtyard.
“Go away,” she said.
Josephine huffed from just outside the fence. Her stockings did not have a single speck of dust on them despite what Katria and her opponent had kicked up. “I will be happy to go away with you. We have work to do.”
“Work is not defined as selecting fabric for gowns or picking seating arrangements,” Katria replied.
Josephine rested her hand against her hip. “Our noble allies allow this base to remain running and flush with coin. There are certain things we must do to maintain those connections, including picking seating arrangements,” she said, then her lips tightened. “Especially now.”
Katria lowered both arms and looked over her shoulder. Josephine was fretting, but for a fairly realistic reason. It had been hard for Katria to maintain her power as Inquisitor and not disquiet the rulers of the countries around them now that Corypheus was defeated. No one liked that the bulk of Thedas worshiped or preferred her over anyone else.
“You’re so much better at maintaining those connections,” Katria said. “In fact, I think I’d just make it worse if I tried.”
“Probably,” Josephine admitted, which made Katria snort. “But that does not mean I can do it alone. Nobles do not visit the Inquisition to see me. They want the Inquisitor.” She crossed her arms. “I will go get your husband.”
She laughed. “My husband is more likely to join in this sparring than help you cajole me into attending some formal meeting.”
Josephine lowered her writing board. “I will—cajole you on my own, then,” she said simply, and then their eyes met. “War Room. Five minutes. Or I contact my baker in Val Royeaux and cancel all dessert shipments for the month.”
Katria smothered the gasp she wanted to give—it would probably be embarrassing to admit how attached to those tiny cakes she was. “Fine,” she said after a few moments and through gritted teeth.
Josephine smiled broadly. “Excellent,” she replied. “I will see you soon, Your Worship.”
Katria wiped her brow with her sleeve as she watched Josephine glide away up the stairs to the Great Hall. She spun her dagger around her hand and then tucked it into her belt.
She knew she had to change first, out of her dueling clothes and into something socially acceptable, lest Josie quit her job on the spot because Katria was so uncooperative. She would not be changing into a gown, however. Maybe breeches and an embroidered tunic that wasn’t wrinkled or streaked with dirt.
The Great Hall was crowded when Katria entered, like it often was. Gossip still flowed like wine through the air, and she always caught bits and pieces of it even as people bowed to her or nodded as she made her way to her quarters.
There were plenty of things for the nobles to talk about. Despite the closure of the Breach and Corypheus’s defeat, tensions were still high in Thedas. First with Cassandra’s reforms of the Circle, and then with Orlais and Ferelden’s discontent with the amount of power the Inquisition had.
Objectively, Katria understood their concerns. The Inquisition had bases in both countries. A standing army. Some of the most powerful mages in Thedas loyal to their organization because of the liberation granted to them through her work. Allegiance from the Templars, too, because Katria had helped them rebuild after Barris was named Knight-Commander.
But there was always risk when power was concentrated anywhere. Katria was committed to restraint, to peace. To achieving those ends in ethical ways. Yet, no matter what she did to prove this, most of Thedas’s leaders turned up their noses at her.
Katria eventually realized they were not concerned about the power she had as Inquisitor. They felt threatened. Alistair and Celene were unchecked rulers just like they accused her of being. They did not want to share that title, especially with a person so well loved by their subjects.
Because of the tension, there was a lot of talking and negotiating. Passive aggressive letters and troop movements. Katria despised it, and merely scoffed when whispers of an Exalted Council echoed through Skyhold. More utter noble nonsense.
Except that Josephine seemed to think that if united under the banner of the Exalted Council, Ferelden and Orlais could end the Inquisition. Katria ignored the notion because—well, the alternative was being alarmed about losing the only place she called her home.
“Inquisitor.”
Katria stopped just outside her door and turned. Cullen was walking across the platform that held her throne, coming from the Undercroft with his hand rested on a new pommel fitted on his sword.
She smiled slightly. “I’m not in the mood to talk about trebuchet calibrations, Commander.”
His brow furrowed once he reached her. “Why would you think I wanted to discuss that?”
“You called me Inquisitor,” she said. “You only do that when you’re in your laser-focused Commander mode. If this were a personal conversation, you’d call me Katria. Or Kat. Or Mrs. Rutherford if you’re feeling all romantic and gross.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry to hear my ‘gross’ romantic sentiment repels you.”
“All sentiment does that,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “Though nothing is quite as repelling as your coat.”
“Or your sense of humor,” he said back, always ready with a quip after years of being teased.
Katria snorted. “Well my jokes haven’t run you off yet.”
Cullen’s lip turned up slightly. “You’re stuck with me. And the armor.”
“Shame,” she said with a smirk, then turned back around to open the door. “Wasn’t there some business matter you needed to discuss?”
Cullen silently followed her in. He spoke after his boots echoed through the hallway for a few seconds. “It—er, wasn’t actually. A business matter. But, you seem busy.”
Katria ran her hand through her unruly hair. Something else for the nobles to abhor. “Unfortunately. I have a meeting with some nobles soon. Disgruntled ones, probably.”
“I see,” Cullen said.
Katria had reached the top of the stairs that opened up to their quarters--a room that looked very similar to Katria’s old one before they were married, with the addition of Cullen’s trunk and armor stand. He didn’t have many possessions, though she didn’t either.
She leaned against the banister. “I have a little time. What did you need?”
Cullen shifted awkwardly, then rubbed his neck, gestures showing his true emotions that Katria was so attune to she could guess the look on his face with her eyes closed. Maybe he had called her Inquisitor because he was nervous about something?
“We—we’ve been married for almost a year and a half,” he remarked after a heavy sigh left him. His gaze darted away as soon as his speech faltered.
Katria grinned. “I know. I remember the day fondly. Minus when we were surrounded by a bunch of nobles and I was wearing a dress. Did you—want to plan something for the date? Seems kind of like an odd-,”
“No, no,” Cullen said quickly. He was standing with his feet straddling the wood stairs, then shuffled back a little with an exasperated sound. “You know, you’re busy. We should do this later.”
Katria followed him down so they were closer together. “Is everything alright?”
“Absolutely,” he replied, and when she reached out her hand to him, he took it. “I’m such a fool when it comes to you, Kat. Let’s talk after you’re done.”
Katria squeezed his hand. “Okay,” she said, though her voiced was tinged with uncertainty. She and Cullen had been together for years. When they were first involved, Cullen had fumbled with his words; he was so obsessed with trying to say the right thing he hardy said anything at all.
But that had changed since their marriage. Since they truly became a couple after the battle at Adamant Fortress. He communicated with her more freely, laughed easily. He felt the pressure to preform less than ever because they’d pledged themselves to one another forever.
What kind of conversation could be causing him to act this way? Katria watched as he lifted her hand and pressed his lips there, dry from the hours he spent outside monitoring his troops.
“I love you,” Katria said, and he looked up to meet her gaze.
His brow rose slightly in surprise because that was not something she said often. “Oh,” he began, before he straightened. “I love you too, Kat.”
Cullen climbed the steps to wrap her in a hug, and she nestled herself into his jacket despite her frequent insults of it. He leaned back. “I’ll find you after your meeting.”
“You know how I hate surprises,” Katria remarked. “Are you sure you don’t want to discuss this now?”
Cullen kissed her briefly. “I’m sure. It’s not—pressing.”
She made a small humming noise. “You’ve intrigued me, Mr. Rutherford.”
“You’ll just have to wait, Mrs. Rutherford.”
Katria narrowed her eyes slightly before letting out a puff of air that ruffled her dark hair. “I suppose that’s better than Inquisitor.”
“I must say I prefer that title too,” he replied. Cullen released her and retreated a few feet down the steps. “Good luck in your meeting.”
She sighed. “I’ll need it.”
Cullen smiled wanly—maybe even nervously—and Katria resisted the urge to chase after him and restart their conversation.
Maker, part of her didn’t want that either because what if there was some unwieldy emotional discussion Cullen wanted to have? She’d already told him she loved him. They lived together, they were married. That was the end of the line in terms of emotional intimacy, wasn't it?
Knowing Cullen, he was nervous about something silly or benign. Something that hadn’t even crossed her mind. He had looked particularly rueful when some Ferelden nobles had visited last week with their families and Mabaris; he was positively oozing envy watching the spoiled children with their pets. Maybe he would ask if they should get a dog? Or a separate home outside of Skyhold?
Katria sighed again, letting her head loll sideways as the door clicked shut upon Cullen disappearing into the hallway. At least Cullen's mysterious behavior would give her something to think about during her meeting.