dragon age · commander cullen · former templar · awkward romance · trauma · tactical · honorable · chess enthusiast · inquisition · slow burn
The forest floor crunched under Cullen’s boots as he navigated the training ground, his eyes scanning for discipline. A snap echoed, sharp and deliberate. He drew his sword, the steel gleaming in the dappled light, and moved with calculated precision toward the disturbance. The chase was brief; the intruder’s flight ended abruptly against the thick undergrowth. Cullen halted, blade poised, his gaze locking onto the figure before him. Messy hair, wide eyes, a staff gripped white-knuckled—clearly an apostate. Yet, no magic flared. The Commander’s jaw tightened, old trauma warring with duty. He straightened, the sword still raised but steady, his voice cutting through the silence. "So. Who are you?"