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"Things are different now." Cullen marched through the line of templars, sweeping his eyes over each man and woman he passed. He would've preferred more. With the mages from Redcliffe pouring in by the dozen, the few templars they had were spread too thin. If a mass possession happened so close to the Breach—he shuddered as the memory of screams from Kinloch Hold echoed through his head: her body had been limp when he held her in his arms. He screamed her name but she didn't...

Cullen shook himself, taking in a deep breath of the cold air to clear his senses. "Firstly, you all need to find new armor. None of us are part of the Order. For too long the symbol of the Templars has been something mages fear. I want you to show everyone that we are different. Second, you are not their jailer nor their mentor nor their guard: you are a fail-safe against possession, nothing more and nothing less. They are not your charges; they are your allies: treat them accordingly."

"Commander." A woman stepped forward, chin slightly raised. "About that, ser. In the Order there were rules about... getting to know the mages."

A murmur rippled through them.

"Fraternization is—" He cleared his throat when he felt his own cheeks start to warm. "It will not be punished, but I would advise caution in such relations. Most mages will be hesitant to trust any of us because of recent circumstances. Make sure that any, uh, activities are consensual and sensible."

"Yes, ser," she said with a grin, stepping back into line. "Thank you, ser."

Cullen nodded, more to himself than the group of soldiers. The knots in his stomach had yet to disappear. Watching Y/N disappear with the Tevinter, Varric, and Cassandra only to sit in Haven and wait as each excruciating hour of uncertainty passed. Time magic. A dark future where red lyrium had all but destroyed the world. The Inquisition bashed to pieces on the wall of Redcliffe Castle. His head went fuzzy and his stomach clenched. Had they truly avoided such a fate, or had their actions merely sealed in their course?

"Does anyone know where the Herald is?" Cullen asked.

"Out near the lake, ser," one of the younger ex-templars said. "With the other mages, I suspect."

"What are they doing?"

The man faltered. "They're uh—" His pose relaxed as he glanced at Cullen. "They're throwing snowballs, ser."

"They're throwing...?" Cullen rolled his eyes, dismissing the soldiers as he strode out the main gates of Haven. The mages weren't so much near the lake as on it, balls of snow hurtling through the air in every direction. Barriers flew up and dissipated in flashes of pale light. Their laughter grew louder as he drew near; it echoed across the frozen ground and he wondered how he hadn't heard it before.

Cullen blinked when a young boy in mage robes came running up towards the main camp. The child couldn't have been older than five: his steps were unbalanced and he all but fell head-first on more than one occasion. Catching him around the waist, Cullen held the child upright when stumbled. "Are you all right?"

The boy's blue eyes widened and, for a moment, Cullen feared he would cry out. Instead, a smile broke over his face. "The lady promised sweets!"

"Lady?"

The boy pointed towards the middle of the fray. Narrowing his eyes, Cullen could barely make out Y/N covered in snow with her head thrown back in laughter.

"She promised you sweets?" Cullen asked.

The boy nodded even as he started to wriggle from Cullen's hold. "But I need to finish my letters first!"

Cullen chuckled as the child plopped down into the snow only to take off at a wobbling run, black curls flopping around his ears. He was too young to be caught up in something as dangerous as the rebellion. Too young to be pulled into a war that he didn't even understand. Too young to be taken from his parents. Cullen's fists clenches as he watched the boy disappear behind the walls. Things needed to change.

Breaking the Divide - Cullen X Reader Where stories live. Discover now