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[stubble]

[ It's late at night when Cullen makes the post, the time of night when people would probably text something like this. But typing on the phone is still too much of an unnatural struggle for him to default to it.

He sounds relatively normal. Maybe just a tiny bit tired. ]

What is it you do when you cannot sleep and there is no work to be done to better utilize the hours you spend awake?

[ There's a tiny pause. ]

I am no stranger to sleepless nights, yet in coming here, I've now naught to do with mine.

Comments

[stubble]

[ Some part of him would like to shy away from it, but he isn't a coward. If it truly is a part of him now, it is his duty to learn to control it properly. Otherwise he might end up being a danger to others.

He listens with interest to Dorian, watching him and noting the little gestures that give added meaning to what he's saying. The visit hadn't been especially pleasant, he thinks, but doesn't pry. If Dorian wishes to tell him, he'll listen but he doesn't want to ruin a pleasant interlude by digging into unpleasant memories. ]

I understand. Perhaps it isn't quite the same, but the village of my birth was destroyed during the Blight. [ The Blight isn't a pleasant topic, but Cullen's voice remains light. Not upbeat, but not weighed down by sorrow or pain. ] I've visited since, and though it's been rebuilt, it isn't the same. It isn't home the way it was when I was a boy.

[ Reaching down, he pats Dorian on the knee. It isn't terribly helpful, he knows, but the sentiment behind it at least is genuine. ]

There is much strife in our world, but you do not face it alone. You have friends now, Dorian. You need only call on us and we will be there.

[curled]

[ One day he might talk about it all. Right now hardly seems like an appropriate time to just casually bring up that his father was killed. There's such a strange and tumultuous history with his father that even Dorian doesn't know how to feel about it most days. He thinks it would be nice if he did, but... He doesn't and there's little he can do. One day, he imagines, it will all sort itself out. He hopes.

He looks at Cullen then, really looks at him, as best he can in the dark of the night with barely any light around them. For as cranky as he can be, for as stubborn as he can be, he's a good man. There's kindness in him that Dorian can see and doesn't really think Cullen sees that. He's a good friend, one he knows he can count on when all the cards are down. There's no apologies given about his village—none of it was Dorian's fault and it takes some measure of grief or acceptance in doing so. All he does is catch Cullen's hand before he's able to pull it away and gives it a small squeeze. ]

So there is, my dear man. Sometimes it seems as if it doesn't let up.

[ He pauses for a brief moment, uncertain, really, on what he wants to say. ]

I think Tevinter believes they will stand up to any attack the qunari bring against our shores. I don't believe that to be the case—especially not after what happened at the Winter Palace. Should Tevinter fall to them... [ he inhales a breath through his nose, then clears his throat, ] Well, it does not bode well for Thedas.

[stubble]

[ Four years ago, Cullen would not have been overly concerned about a qunari invasion against Tevinter. He would have been happy to let the qunari and the blood mages wipe themselves out far away from the rest of Thedas. Both Tevinter and the Qun had only ever brought suffering to Thedas, as near as he could tell. It would only be what they deserved to destroy each other.

But things have changed now. Cullen still wouldn't trust the average Tevinter mage. He would still expect blood mage and treachery from most magisters. What's changed is that now he knows that all magisters aren't monsters. Dorian has taught him that there are good Tevinters, decent men and women who don't glory in the pain of others.

Perhaps that is even true for the qunari, though after the Exalted Council, he isn't willing to extend them the benefit of the doubt. ]

Then Tevinter must not fall. [ He says it firmly, with the same stubborn refusal to be defeated that he turned against Corypheus and the corrupted templars. ] We stood against Corypheus. We stood against demons and blood magic. We can stand against the qunari too.

[ He looks out into the darkness, toward the sound of the ocean as if it is not... whatever this sea is called, but the Nocen Sea. He has never seen it, though in his mind's eye, he can imagine it well enough. ]

If the Inquisition has taught us nothing else, it is that we are stronger together than separately. And that when we are threatened, we will stand together regardless of our fears and foolish prejudice. [ He looks at Dorian, offering a small smile. ] We may no longer be the Inquisition, but I believe I may speak for Mahanon and the rest when I say that if Tevinter needs us, we will come. Whether it wishes us to do so or not.

[curled]

[ Anyone can argue there's terrible people no matter the place. Yes, quite a lot of them have made a home for themselves in Tevinter. Dorian wouldn't really argue that. But, he knows there's good people there. They may be few, but they are legion. Or will be soon enough. Terrible people live in Ferelden. Maker knows there are horrible people in Orlais. Dorian will argue until his dying breath that Tevinter can be restored to a glory it deserves, not one built upon the backs and blood of slaves and innocents.

This is such a morose topic for this time of night. Which, as it happens, is Dorian's Prime Time™ to allow his thoughts to travel to places they shouldn't be traveling. Though he hates doing it to himself, it's a habit he hasn't quite broken. Apparently. Time to move on.

So, he smiles again, brows raised high on his forehead and amusement twisting so easily in his words. ]

I imagine not. A pariah, a Dalish and a Fereldan—complete with mabari in tow! Magnificent. Half would die from shock, I imagine. [ He waves his hand in the air as if to dismiss the topic entirely. ] But, hardly something conductive for a restful night's sleep. [ Then, gives a gesture toward the bottles. ] Do let me know how those work, yes? Half a dose should aid you for tonight.

[stubble]

[ Perhaps they won't make the most impressive sight to magisters accustomed to believing themselves the most powerful and important people in the world, but pandering to the self-importance of nobles has never mattered to Cullen. What matters is results. And the Inquisition got them. Thedas has not been overrun by demons. Corypheus has not remade the world.

The magisterium can get over itself. It needs all the allies it can get. ]

Aye. Right you are. My apologies for speaking of such weighty matters at such an hour.

[ Cullen looks down at the bottles, nodding. ]

I will. Thank you. [ Glancing up, he gives Dorian a smile and then gets to his feet. He offers Dorian a hand to his own. ] Shall I escort you back inside?

[curled]

[ True enough. And Dorian is of mind to remind the magisters that they are not as powerful as they think themselves. Though it does him little good now, he begins to formulate a plan of how to speak with the Archon once he returns. He's not an unreasonable man and sensible enough to listen.

But, nothing to do about that now.

Dorian shakes himself free of his thoughts and looks at Cullen's hand and without thinking, just slides his hand over it easily. He uses it as leverage to pull himself up ( even if he did keep most of the weight on his feet instead ). For a moment he doesn't let go and just searches Cullen's face for... something. Even Dorian isn't really positive what he's trying to see.

Forcing himself to look toward his own backdoor he sighs and gives a small smile. ]

No, I think I'll make it fine on my own. [ Dangerous and selfish thoughts are brewing and it is best if he quell them before they force his hand into something he might regret. So, he lets go and gives Cullen's shoulder a passing squeeze before he turns away. ]

Get some sleep, Cullen. You've plenty of work to get done tomorrow!