My Warden (COMPLETED)

My Future

A surprise sequel to My Hope.

After Cullen rescues Lana Amell from the fade, the two of them find their lives at a junction. With no Grey Wardens, no Circles, and no Inquisition, what will they do? All they have is each other and a lot of questions.

Pretty much a bunch of fluff, some tears, then more fluff of Cullen, Lana, Leliana and others running around in Val Royeaux. There might be a few other surprise cameos along the way.

Maker, that was a lot of gold, and silk. Far more silk than he would have expected in anything related to the chantry. In his mind, the chantry was all hard wood pews, grouted cobblestones, and fraying woolen robes. Cullen felt a growing urge to turn around and run, and they hadn't technically gotten past the front room, which Orleisans would argue themselves to death over whether it was a foyer or a vestibule. He missed his old days of referring to it as the mudroom, which would certainly cause some of the soft spoken Mothers in Val Royeaux to faint straight to the marble floors.

"Forgive the state of things," the Divine spoke beside him. She'd rolled up her drooping sleeves and pinned them in place with the eye of the Inquisition. It felt strange to see the symbol that encompassed so much of his life yet again. "I'm afraid no one's really cleaned it up since Justinia."

"Leliana, it's beautiful," Lana gasped, her eyes widening even more as the Divine pushed open a door revealing a room large enough to house the entire scouting regiment of the Inquisition. With the inborn manners of a dog, Honor barreled past her owner to stand panting in the middle of the room. Her stubby tail wiggled back and forth, daring Cullen to call her out for being naughty in the face of such adorableness. Sighing, he only pointed a finger at her and threatened in a whisper, "Do not break anything."

"Oh dear," Lana's gaze wandered over to him and she placed a hand to her gaunt cheeks, "I fear this may be too ostentatious for the Commander."

"Nonsense," Leliana waved her hand at Lana's statement before lifting a flint up off the mantle and bringing to life a candelabra dangling over a table inlaid with not only gold but what looked like silver and possibly rubies as well. "This is the breakfast nook," she gestured at the table whose sale could probably buy them an entire cottage. "And somewhere in the back is a proper dining table."

"A proper..." now Lana's lips slackened in her own shock. Cullen turned his cocky grin and mouthed "ostentatious" back at her. She only shrugged, her eyes widening further. This was even beyond the jaded Arlessa.

"Wait until I show you the bedroom. There's a jewel encrusted washing basin from the Blessed Age."

"I..." Lana moved to take a step, when her body slipped out from under her tight control. Cullen raced forward, both hands grabbing onto her. One caught her arm, digging tight around her brittle bones, while the other managed to wrap around her waist. It pained him how easy it was to lift her back up, but he kept a calm turn to his face.

As he bore her far too light weight, Lana lifted her weary head. "Sorry, perhaps I should sit for a spell," then she paused and laughed at her own pun. Even while putting on a brave face, Cullen and Leliana shared a concerned glance over Lana's head.

"Allow me," the Divine wrapped her own arms around Lana's waist, the mage winding a hand over her friend's shoulders. "Most of the furniture here's as hard as a chantry pew, but Justinia had one of the softest divans I've ever sat upon installed which I ordered moved here for the time being." Guiding her past the golden arm chairs with high backs designed to make the sitter look imposing and not comfortable, Leliana jerked her chin at this mythical divan. While the rest of the furniture bore the same crimson, deep gold, and cherry wood motif of the chantry proper, the divan was every designers worst nightmare. Wide enough to seat two people, it bore a swooping back that bulged at the bottom to fill into someone's lower back, while the sitting cushions themselves fluffed upwards with a good foot of downy give. But what was perhaps most perplexing was the upholstery done in soft pinks and greens and bearing a continually repeating folksy chicken pattern.