Dragon Age Inquisition: Faith

Questions and advice

The main body of the Inquisition began the march back to Skyhold the next morning. While Cecily did feel better after a night’s sleep, she decided to remain in the Western Approach to close any rifts that might have been opened in the area. She was grateful for Skyhold, for the sanctuary it offered the Inquisition, but right now she didn’t think she could stand having people bow and murmur “Inquisitor” every time she turned a corner.

Dorian, Sera, and The Iron Bull agreed to remain with her. She’d chosen this group carefully. The elf’s aggressive disrespect for “all that world-ending Chantry shite” was a blessed relief after the business in the Fade, and neither Dorian nor The Iron Bull was much for bowing and mumbling her title at her, or discussing the finer points of the Inquisition’s theological foundations. They seemed far more interested in sniping at each other—which Cecily realized she should have anticipated, given that Dorian was Tevinter and The Iron Bull Qunari (or a “vint” and an “ox,” depending on who you asked).

A week later they’d closed four rifts, claimed a fortress, and Cecily thought she could sit on the Inquisitor’s throne for more than ten minutes without going mad. It was time to return to Skyhold.

“Sounds good,” said The Iron Bull when she told him that night in camp. “Listen, boss. When we get back there, I think you should go for it.”

“Go for what?” Cecily asked, lifting her cup as her eyes scanned the camp for Sera. She felt more secure when she knew where the elf was.

“Cullen, of course,” Bull said impatiently.

Cecily choked on her water. “I … what?” she gasped between coughs.

The Qunari clapped her on the back. “Come on, boss. I know how to read people. You. Want. Cullen.”

Cecily felt the blood drain from her face. “Oh dear. I … am I that obvious? That’s embarrassing.”

The Iron Bull threw his head back and groaned. “You people make this into such a tortured thing. Why should it be embarrassing?”

Cecily set down her cup. “First of all, because it sounds like the start of a bad romantic novel. A Circle mage with a crush on a Templar knight-captain. Ugh.”

“But you’re not in the Circle any more, and he’s not even a Templar now. You’re both available, you like each other, so go for it already.” He grinned. “You know, click-click.”

“I can’t just, uh, click-click with Cullen,” Cecily said. “He’s not a click-click kind of person, really.”

The Iron Bull looked appalled. "Don't tell me Templars take some sort of celibacy oath."

"No!" Cecily corrected quickly. "Well, most don't. I'm not sure if Cullen did. I can't exactly ask him something like that."

"Why not?" The Iron Bull sounded genuinely puzzled.

Cecily pinched the bridge of her nose. I’m not going to be able to explain “propriety” to him, am I? "I just meant that he wouldn't take ... that sort of thing ... casually."

Bull’s eye crinkled in amusement. “Neither would you, boss.”

“Right, so it would be serious, and complicated.” Cecily went on. “And what if he’s not interested? Or if things go wrong? He’s the Commander of our forces! The Inquisition needs him—probably more than they need me, when you come right down to it.”

“Well, that’s bullshit,” Bull said, sounding surprisingly angry at the thought. “Hell, you were unconscious for what, two hours after Haven? Your advisors couldn’t hold their shit together even that long.”