My Warden (COMPLETED)

Surprise

When she was having a good day they dined with the rest of the chantry in the grand hall. Lana expected the clergy to be nothing but bent heads shoveling tasteless gruel into silent mouths, but the various Mothers and Sisters - most into their 60s and beyond - put raucous teenage mages to shame. On more than one occasion they had to dodge a cascade of rolls lobbed from one end of the room to the other. After waking from her nap, she expected them to head down but Cullen suggested they dine in instead. Lana was about to insist she was fine, the sleep shored her up well and she could handle a few over eager Sisters, but something in his demeanor caught her. While he could lose control of his limbs at times, Cullen was normally the very definition of stoic. He would often stand stock still for nearly hours, his eyes drifting past into the ether and those taut muscles keeping him locked in place. Probably remnants from being a templar and having to stand guard at the door or watching over one of the day long classes. But today he seemed on edge, dancing back and forth from one foot to the other as if the ground itself were on fire.

She wasn't certain what it meant, but Lana kept her arguments to herself curious to see where it was all going. After having finished eating the filling and rich dinner, Lana tried to push back her chair but felt the thud of a dog in the way.

"Are you waiting for your helpings?" she asked Honor who no doubt was also put off by them remaining in the apartment. With her pleading eyes and wiggling body, she often secured her weight in scraps from the clergy.

"She already scammed a bone off the butcher in the market, the pastries from the baker, and I don't want to know what you ate off the candlestick maker. On top of your usual dinner. You're good," Cullen ordered, his eyes darting down at Honor who whined a moment at her master's commands.

"It will not work on me," he insisted, folding his arms over his picked clean plate. Lana watched, waiting to see if Cullen's assessment would hold up and sure enough he seemed set on it this time.

Grunting, Honor slunk away from the table, her head hung low as if this was the greatest injustice ever heaped upon a mabari. As she was about to leap onto the divan, Cullen spun in his chair and sighed, "Do not get on the..." Not listening, Honor got all four of her feet up and sat down, daring him. "I give up."

Lana reached over and patted his hand, "It's best to choose your battles with them. I've found that's also the same with Wardens."

"And soldiers," Cullen groaned, his old life playing behind his eyes. After shaking off that sneer, he turned back to her and cupped both of her hands in his. "Did you, uh, have anything important planned for the rest of the...day?"

She twisted her head at his meandering question, but answered, "Not really. I have a few new reference ideas to compare with my old books and was thinking of trying to darn up my socks."

"'Darn your socks?'" he repeated with a scoff.

"I'm getting better at it. All right, so the yarn doesn't match and my needles are too thick but it's better than holes through the boots and... Why are you pulling that face?"

He blinked at her question, and the essence of panic contorted his cheeks. Digging into the nape of his neck with a ferocity, Cullen leaned back to stare up at the ceiling as if the answer was written there. "I probably should have said something earlier, but I didn't know if you'd...or there was..." The blush ramped up to a full flush over his features to match the increase in placeholder words, "Ah, I mean, surprises are...some like them but others are not as, but then when we were already, and you didn't say anything."

"What..." Lana tried to get his attention if only so he'd start making sense, "what are you talking about?"

"A moment, please," he skittered so fast out of his chair it tipped backwards, smacking into the floor. Cullen didn't even slow down to try and rescue the priceless relic as he vanished into the office leaving Lana alone and beyond confused. When he returned there was a canvas bag in his hands, a giant smile across his face, and a hundred questions expanding to a thousand.