{5} The Letter

He touched the scar on his lip, tracing it with his fingers.

‘I waited until we camped and left my tent in the middle of the night to go somewhere isolated. I didn’t want to be bothered. I sat under a tree by a lake and tried to open the envelope. But the cursed thing was impossible to do. The paper wouldn’t rip, no doubt due to some magical protection she had cleverly placed on it. Same thing with the Grey Warden seal. My letter opener couldn’t cut through it.’

‘I wasn’t thinking straight. I gave an infuriated yell and tried to rip the paper with my bare teeth. The spell or whatever she used just reacted and hurt me. It ripped my skin instead, leaving a scar in its wake. Served me right. I was a templar, I should’ve known better than to fight magic without my abilities. But I was so desperate to read the letter I completely forgot to use a spell purge.’

She could barely believe what she was hearing.

‘You hurt your mouth trying to open a letter? Cullen...’

He frowned at her.

‘What? Not the story you expected?’

Her dumbfounded expression told him everything. He gave a soft laugh.

‘Reality seldom is. Anyway, it wasn’t the paper that cut me, it was her spell.’

He caressed the scar again.

‘She had touched me. Once again. Not directly, but...’

He dismissed the gesture and looked once more at the ten handwritten pages smirched here and there in tiny drops of his own blood.

‘It’s quite a lengthy letter, isn’t it? I could scarcely believe when I gazed upon it for the first time. She had taken her time to write me. Just as I did for her.’  he said fondly.

‘You barely knew each other.’  she remarked, familiar with their brief encounters in the Ferelden Circle —‘And she had all this to say to you?’

‘The greater the distance, the more one misses each other.’ —he replied with a small smile.

‘For my luck, the cut wasn’t too deep. It had only scratched the upper layer of my skin. My lip and face were left intact. Still, the wind carried a few drops with it, staining the paper. It caused ripples in the lake and shook the tree branches. It was about to rain, but I didn’t care. All that existed in the world at that moment were me and her letter.’

Cullen sat beside her, narrating its contents in a brief explanation.

‘From the moment I began reading, I realised this was an unspoken confession. She remembered the hasty departure from the Circle in Ferelden and how she and I could never say our goodbyes. This was something that haunted her all the way to Ostagar, as she tells. Later on, she met “this dullard”, as she called him, who was so different from me. He kept joking about everything nonstop. For someone who grew up in the monastic life of the Circle, his constant lightheartedness had become a hindrance.’

She was already completely lost.

‘Who was she talking about?’

‘The man you know now as King Alistair. This was before he was crowned, back when he was a Warden.’

‘And this she thought upon meeting him? One wonders how they got involved later on...’

Cullen replied with a discreet grin and fondled her hair.

‘Many improbable unions are formed between people from different origins. Don’t you agree, my lady?’

He kissed her hand tenderly, brushing his lips on the back of her palm. Funny how after all these months, that still made her heart race and her cheeks blush.

‘After the battle of Ostagar, though, she says everything changed. She had to travel with no certain destination, no companions except that unbelievably aloof man and an unreliable witch. They had almost no money, no place to stay and fought to stay alive. Somewhere along the line, she ended up with two more companions, a sister from the Chantry and a Qunari killer. She had no friends and no allies. Only memories of a safer past. Those, she says, were the darkest periods of her life. For a long time, the future seemed bleak. And as if things couldn’t become worse, she started having nightmares. The visions of the Archdemon that haunt every Grey Warden.’

‘She never felt lonelier than during those miserable weeks. Weeks that felt almost like a year. After Duncan’s death, everything threatened to spiral out of control. And throughout this time, the memories of our precious few times spent together, simply talking on the corridor were her solace. It was the memory of me that kept her going. The chance that we might see each other again, once this hell was over.’

‘Slowly, she dragged herself onward, fighting darkspawn and helping other peoples in Ferelden sort out their problems. The Grey Wardens had to recruit as many people as possible if they stood a chance to defeat the Archdemon and vanquish the Blight. After so long travelling, becoming entangled in politics and facing all kinds of danger, she had now become a different person, with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Other people’s problems had become her problems. Everyone expected too much of her. She had no one to turn to, no guidance. Her only concern had become to achieve her final goal. And then, news struck her about Uldred’s betrayal.’

‘She returned to the Circle and rescued you.’  she stated.

‘Not precisely. One glance told me she hadn’t come for me. Although when I first saw her, I mistook her for the illusions Uldred’s torturers had conjured. She looked...different. There was a hardness in her voice that wasn’t there before. Her face was impassive as she spoke to me. If there were traces of the old Amell I knew, I couldn’t see them; due to my tormented state or the hardships she had faced so far. Looking back, I realised I had been too harsh with her. But she confessed she didn’t mind. She felt sorry I had become Uldred’s victim and that she hadn’t arrived sooner to prevent all this...tragedy.’

His voice was once again filled with emotion.

‘She wrote that, once she had killed Uldred and put an end to the threat, she saw how I looked changed. She saw a hurt, enraged young man, and the mere mention of what we had before could be poorly received by me. She wasn’t wrong in this. So, she departed the tower. Without sharing a single word with me, once again. She was tired of fighting that many battles. She didn’t wish to fight another one, least of all against me. If I had known back then I would never see her again after that, I...’

He took a deep breath and turned another page.

...

‘Seeing me like that changed her once more. It was as though she had buried her past and placed a rock on top of it. Her life in the Circle had come to a sort of closure. It was time to move on.’

‘By that time, she and Alistair had become more acquainted with each other. She now learned to relax thanks to his jokes. And found out he could be quite serious when he wanted. She said: did you know he was also a templar? Although, as she claims, for a very brief period. Never took his vows, nor drank lyrium. According to her, he and I had so little in common...’

‘Necessity drew them together.’ she remarked.

‘And opportunity as well.’  he smirked  ‘After all, he was the bastard son of a king. Certainly she didn’t miss that.’

She threw him a dirty look.

‘What? You women do pay attention to things like that. Don’t tell me you don’t.’

‘Is that why you were so attracted to me in the first place, Commander?  Was it my family surname you were after or my estate in Ostwick? Or both?’’  it was her turn to smirk.

Cullen was at a loss for words. His face was flushed and he began to heavily stutter.

‘I...I didn’t...Maker’s breath, Trevelyan. You know I don’t...’

She calmed him down with a smooch, leaving him yet again at a loss for words and asked him to resume telling her the story. Despite feeling a lot more relieved, he still threw a worried glance at her before carrying on.

‘Well...in the months that followed that visit, she and Alistair became intimate. But not for long. She soon would rally her allies, confront Loghain and force Alistair to take his place on the throne.’

She estranged his choice of words.

‘Did I hear that right? She...forced him?’

‘Apparently Alistair intended to remain a Grey Warden. They argued and she convinced him it was for the best. How she sure must’ve changed. I remember a shy mage, recently out of her apprentice status, talking to me and awkwardly stumbling on her words, just as I did. Nine months later, she gets to decide who sits on the throne of a nation. And all the while, I had no idea. All I knew to do in these last two years was to judge and blame. I should have at least imagined what she had been through.’

He pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose, feeling the guilt return. 

‘After Alistair was crowned, they still had an Archdemon to fight.’ —she remarked.

‘Yes. The armies marched all across Thedas to gather at Denerim. But I never saw how the fighting went. By then, I had already been transferred to Kinlock Hold on Greagoir’s orders. I didn’t know, but she spared a thought for me before the final hour. A piece of her was still attached to her past, to her life in the tower. The war hadn’t torn her apart entirely. Such a strange thing to do, though. She had Alistair by then. Why think of me? And in such a moment, when...well, on the eve of battle, the last night they could share together...’

Trevelyan wondered if it had something to do with Morrigan and her strange ritual concerning the so-called Old God, the way she called the Archdemon. There was nothing holy in that creature, much less divine. Could that have involved the Wardens somehow?

They were arriving at the last pages now.

‘She says her duties never stopped after the Blight was ended. She was summoned urgently to Amaranthine shortly after being nominated Warden-Commander, where yet again, she had to deal with the darkspawn menace. She rarely sees Alistair anymore and both have taken distinct paths. When she came to the Free Marches in search of some strange darkspawn whereabouts, she heard my name and the rank of Knight-Captain. That filled her with both pride...and dread. Would I still want to see her, after all we’d been through? Wouldn’t I already be engaged to someone else? In truth, her coming to Kirkwall could cause such a commotion that the situation could run out of control.’

‘She then had thought of writing me a letter. But how would I respond? And it had been so long...she didn’t know what kind of response that would elicit. As it so happens, she merely resumed her investigation on the darkspawn she was hunting, ordering Howe to go investigate the thaig near Kirkwall.’

‘She wanted to write to you first?’

‘Yes.’  he replied softly  ‘Turns out she DID write after she received my message. Howe did keep his word, after all. He delivered it to her. She tried writing to me several times, but she was either in the Deep Roads, going further west or roaming the fields after darkspawn. She tried three times, and in all those attempts, the messenger was either killed on the way or tainted.’

‘It came to a point where she had to make a choice. Either go back to the Free Marches and lose her only track to a cure for the taint or keep going. By then, her life had been all about the duty of a Warden. Even if she nurtured fond feelings for me, they were solely the vague reminiscences of a more innocent time, when she had a young woman’s crush. It was something to be treasured, but never relived.’

‘She had come to terms with the impossibility of hearing from me again when she received another one of my messages. At first, she believed the Maker was playing games with her. But then, she took advantage of the only chance she got to write back. This could be her only chance. It had been ten years. She might never be able to return to Ferelden, the Free Marches or any other known civilization. So, she poured her heart in this letter, more of a confession to herself of all that happened ever since she was conscripted than a love letter, full of unfulfilled desires and regrets.’

He turned the last page. The words that came out from his lips were bittersweet.

‘She says her duty takes her further from me and everything she knows. She regrets not having come to Kirkwall to see me one last time. As it turned out, Alistair had already warned her he’d be in Starkhaven. She couldn’t say no.’

Cullen felt silent and let her read Amell’s last words to him:

It’s strange that I should remember you more clearly now, when I’m about to say goodbye to all that I hold dear. Ten years have passed. And still, I remember every detail of your eyes, your hair and your voice. If time has changed you as well it changed me, I fear we might not even recognise each other anymore. The Maker had already set our paths in different directions even before we were born. We can only be grateful he granted us a few moments together before we set out to fulfill the fates he had in store for us.

It doesn’t matter what happens to you or me. Know only this: there was a time when I lived among the darkness. In those helpless times, the memory of you was my warming light. I clung to it and whispered your name in my prayers, hoping I would see you again during my travels. This sole hope made me vanquish armies of darkspawn, bear the cold winter nights and starvation, survive attempted murder and retain my sanity amongst the dark chaos that threatened to engulf everything. The promise of seeing you again kept me alive.

I shall never forget the one time we shared a stolen, forbidden kiss in the library. It may be I was corrupting your templar honor right there and then. But to me, it felt like the one moment where I had done one true thing in my life. Something that had nothing to do with duty and other people’s expectations.

I will be gone for a long time. Maker knows where my investigation will lead me. I have already taken a ship from Rivain and travel further West, ever seeking answers. News won’t arrive soon where I’m going, but from what I’ve heard, you’ve become an outstanding Knight-Captain. The few people I meet in the villages and camps have all heard of you and Knight-Commander Meredith. I must confess, I wouldn’t have liked to meet her. Things sound as though Kirkwall is going through hard times. Let us hope they don’t escalate as they did in the Ferelden Circle.

By now, you must have someone special in your life. It is sweet, though, that you decided to write to me when you did. I confess there are times I  wonder how you must be now.  If I know something about you, you must be happy, having someone by your side and the trust of the Knight-Commander. I hope they can provide you the sense of fulfillment I could never give to you during our precious few moments together.

I leave my fate in the hands of the Maker and depart on my journey knowing you are safe and sound. Maker willing, I shall see you once more before this is over. It would do my heart well to know you are out there, a grown man, with a wife and children and no more ghosts from the past to haunt you. You were a part of me and I, of you. We can never forget each other. Nor should we. And should the darkness become too much for either of us to bear, then remember: we are always together. Remember the kiss in the library. That night, after my Harrowing. The taste of my lips, the touch of my fingertips brushing your hair, the smell of my perfume. All these things are yours. Search for me nowhere else. I am forever with you in that single moment. Even if death claims me, I am still with you. For in your lips, I shall forever lie.

Forever yours,

Solona Amell.

...

The wind blew strong now, lifting leaves and dust from the ground. Thunder roared a few meters from where he was sitting. Thick drops fell from the sky, disturbing the smooth surface of the lake. The storm would soon be upon him. And yet, Cullen did anything but refuse to move from the spot.

His hand was clasped tightly around the letter, shaking uncontrollably. His whole frame was tense and loud gasps could be heard coming from his throat. All those years when he saved face, no matter what storm ravaged inside him, had now fallen to the ground. Just a few words from her had laden his feelings bare, leaving him deprived of the shell he had so strenuously built around him to protect of whatever horrors life tried to throw at him.

He cried loudly and in earnest, the warm tears sprouting freely from his red eyes. His mouth was agape, allowing the gasps to purge all the pain and regret from his chest, the roar of a hurt lion whose hunter just opened a fatal wound in his heart.

She remembered it. The sweet moment when she was his and he was hers. Not only that. All of it. All those moments spent together. And now he knew they meant to her as much as they meant to him. This was all he wanted to know...and feared to know. She had loved him all this time. But like him, had been lead away by fate and circumstance.

He stuttered several times, breathing through his mouth, trying to produce a coherent speech.

‘M...Ma...ker...why....th-throw her...in m-my...path...only...t-to....’

I am forever with you in that single moment. Even if death claims me, I am still with you. For in your lips, I shall forever lie.

He kissed the spot where she had written her name and touched the scar in a caress, as though it as her who now caressed him back.

He felt the drops of rain hit him more intensely and carefully folded the letter, his now most prized possession, tucking it inside his very robes. He got up, feeling considerably lighter. For the past ten years, he had been dragging an invisible weight behind him. Now, he was a free man again.

She was right. Time had passed. They both changed. One would hardly recognise the other. They now had each a new life, new perspectives ahead of them. And a new calling. Life went on. Nevertheless, should he feel alone, he would forever have her. And he would always carry her confession of love within the depths of his heart.

And should he ever forget, all he had to do was to gaze into a mirror or touch his own face. For the scar —her scar, the one the spell she cast over him had caused — would never let him forget.