Moments

Moment of Everything

Cullen chuckled leaning his forehead to mine and closing his eyes. His voice grew even softer while we marched away from the Winter Palace. I'd expected anger at my decision taking away his sense of purpose, but it seemed to bring forth the exact opposite. He looked free, a smile lifting his cheeks whenever he'd turn to find me by his side, struggling to stay on the damn horse and keep my stump as far from anything as possible.

"I am afraid I do not have that luxury," he said, gesturing to the bookshelves still half full. Crates were overstuffed with some of his office - the bric and brac of leading an army being packed and sent to whoever could make use of them. Josephine found buyers for our used things before we'd even left Halamshiral.

"Wasn't this all supposed to be loaded up before tomorrow?" I asked, prodding my foot against a crate and hearing the hollowness.

Cullen lifted one shoulder and smiled slyly. "I've been preoccupied," he said, "with my beautiful wife."

Laughing, I leaned my shoulder into him - the crush of his old leathers more forgiving than the armor now secured in a special box. "That's no excuse," I said, even as I kissed his lips for the dozenth of dozens time since returning to Skyhold. We abandoned the pretense of formality, no matter how weak it had been, stealing moments every chance we found - both aware of how close we came to almost losing everything. Cullen wasn't the only one with night terrors anymore.

Wiping away the worry, I smiled and slipped away from his warm arms. His desktop was nearly cleared off save three boxes. One was open and stacked high with the books and papers that used to fill it. The other box looked much the same as the rest littering Skyhold, worn wood hammered quickly in place, but shredded straw covered whatever lay inside. Curiosity was one of my worst vices, and I dug through the straw, trying to find whatever was inside.

Cullen turned away from the window to catch me, "That isn't necessary! It's nothing important for the..."

"What is this?" I stuttered, trying to lift up the garish, golden object. I only managed a few inches before it slipped from my fingers, clanging against the bottom of the box.

Sighing, Cullen reached into the box. "There's no reason for you to see this." Even through his protestations, he still unearthed it for me, sliding straw away to reveal a massive mouth gawping at me. It looked like someone gilded a bear forever imprisoning it in a yawn. Fur strode down the back of it, reaching like a mane around the back of the head. I eyed up the monstrous thing cupped in his hands, then turned to my husband. For good measure I did it again, emphasizing my need for an explanation.

"It's a helmet," he said, shifting it in his hands.

"That's a helmet?! I thought you beheaded a statue."

He flattened his lips from my tone, "It was to go with my armor. The fur's the same as the pauldrons." To show it off, he ran his fingers down the back, fluffing up bear fur far less ragged and sun bleached than what he'd worn every day.

I eyed up the helmet, slightly terrified it might surge forward and take a bite at me. "Do...do you often wear animal heads upon your own?"

Cullen shook his head, glaring at the monstrous thing, "I didn't purchase it. As I said, it came with the armor."

Growing more bold, I reached out, running the edge of my pinkie along a tooth. It was colder to the touch than I expected - though, given my life, feeling hot breath and the pulse of blood wasn't beyond the reach. "I can see why you never wore the thing. Casualties from people falling over the battlements in laughter would have been staggering."

He snorted, rolling his eyes at me, but placed the helmet back in its box, shredding even more of the straw overtop to hide it.

"If you didn't buy it, then who did? It came with your armor, right?"