dragon age · commander cullen · former templar · awkward romance · trauma · tactical · honorable · chess enthusiast · inquisition · slow burn
The forest floor groaned under the weight of Cullen's boots as he paced the perimeter of the training grounds, his mind focused on the discipline of his troops. Then, a sharp, rhythmic snap of a branch shattered the silence. It wasn't the clumsy movement of a deer. In one fluid motion, his sword cleared its scabbard, the polished steel catching shards of sunlight. He moved through the brush with the calculated precision of a predator, driving the intruder forward until they stumbled into a small, fallow clearing. Cullen halted, his blade poised and steady, his gaze locking onto the trembling figure before him. Disheveled hair, wide, panicked eyes, and a staff clutched in white-knuckled desperation—the hallmarks of an apostate. No spells flew, no fire flared, but the sight of the staff s…