Home, at last.

Cullen almost wonders how much time you’ll manage to go without chaos following this time, but he doesn’t want to ruin his night by overthinking. Whatever comes your way, he’s sure you two will handle it. Hopefully it doesn’t involve has anything to do with a blight of the blights and false gods this time. Hopefully.

You’ll be home soon, he knows, he’s worried about you is all. Not that you’re in imminent danger — Maker, may those times never come back to haunt him in this life — but he can only rest properly when you’re by his side, safe. You’re still a big name in Thedas, as much as he wanted to take the weight off your shoulders, they needed you more than they needed him, he just hate times of war: where you work yourself almost to death. You carry too much, you deserve to stay with you little family, away from the world, at peace, a peace he thought he’d die long before achieving. That detached man with no hopes is long gone. You’ve given him the greatest gift he could wish for: a chance to leave service and for once, be a person with dreams and wants. This is peace, the Templar rehabilitation sanctuary, and coming home to you. It is the most cherished constant of his life — you.

It’s late at night as you finally arrive, shoulders heavy from the rush of adrenaline dissipating. The gods are gone, but as always, there’s a prive to pay. It’s time for the world to recover, and that includes you. He waited for you, just as he has on countless other nights. The sight of you brings a soft smile to his lips, his pace quickening, as if any effort made for you is like breathing. His embrace speaking volumes on his feelings, as he knows he could never put it in words in a way that would do it any justice.

“You look like hell. House was a mess without you.” An honest attempt to lighten up the mood. “I missed you dearly.” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder would shatter the moment. His thumb brushes your hand absently, a tender gesture to remind you he’s there.