A Candle in the Darkness (A Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfiction)

Bring It On, Commander

18 Kingsway, 9:41

"One more time," Cullen called. Antonia glared at him, but she readied her sword again as two of his men closed in on her, one on each side. If she turned toward either one, she exposed herself to the attack of the other. It was a weakness of the two-handed weapon, which is why he focused on it so much in her training.

She looked from side to side, tossing her head to flick her hair out of her eyes. It needed cutting again, he thought, if she had to do that. Then, so quickly they didn't have time to react, she whirled around, the practice blade outstretched as she turned, scoring both men across the chest. Immediately she jumped back and reset herself.

"All right, you're both dead. But Inquisitor, that move only works if you can maintain your footing and your speed. If you had slipped, you'd have opened yourself up with no defenses."

"You think?" She raked a glove through her brown hair to push it back.

"Let's try that, then. Same setup as last time, but slip halfway, see how you can recover."

"You want me to slip on purpose?"

Cullen shrugged. "Would you rather slip by accident and not have prepared?"

"Do you enjoy being right all the time?" she grumbled.

He laughed. "I suppose I find it more pleasant than the alternative."

"Fine. Let's do this." She and the men reset. This time, halfway through the whirl a patch of ice appeared under her boots, and she slipped and fell, landing hard on her bottom. She kept hold of the sword, and as the two soldiers closed in, she lifted it above her head and with a quick jerking side-to-side movement managed to hit one with the blade end and the other with the pommel. As they fell backward, she scrambled to her feet, glaring at the mage who had appeared next to Cullen. "That was a dirty trick, Dorian."

He shrugged, looking innocent. "Didn't the Commander want to see what you actually do in combat? Although in truth, what you actually do is more point sharp things at whatever I've already set on fire." Dorian gave an exaggerated sigh. "I give so much, and am appreciated so little."

"I'm lucky if you bother to set things on fire; you and Varric seem to spend half your time chatting while the Iron Bull and I take all the hits." Antonia put her hand on her hip and glared at the mage, but she couldn't hold the expression, and they both laughed.

"An excellent point," Dorian conceded. He looked at Cullen. "Satisfied, Commander?"

Cullen crossed his arms, studying the field. The ice had melted, leaving a muddy patch. "I think if they hadn't both closed in together, perhaps ..."

The soldiers groaned, and Antonia rolled her eyes.

"You know, Commander," Dorian said, "since you have so many good ideas, I think maybe you should show them how it's done."

The men cheered. Antonia's eyebrows flew up, and she cast an odd look at the mage, who returned it rather smugly, Cullen thought. They appeared to have an entire language that didn't require words, and Cullen felt an irrational stab of jealousy.

He had to admit he was exhilarated by the challenge. She was a fine fighter, and it had been some time since they'd sparred together. He did try to avoid getting in the ring too often, but the occasional bout kept him in practice and reminded the men that he knew what he was talking about. "What do you say, Inquisitor?"

She picked up the sword. "Bring it on, Commander."

The soldiers escaped the ring gratefully as Cullen prepared himself. At last he was set, facing her, the patch of mud between them. "Are you ready?"

"Are you? I knock down men twice your size for breakfast."

"Really? Let's just see about that, shall we?" Cullen pulled his thoughts away from the sparkle in her eyes, the flush on her cheeks, and the undeniable fact that instead of fighting her, he very much wanted to kiss her, and prepared himself just in time to spin out of the way of her onrush. He clipped her with his shield as he went, and she winced. "I'm sorry, is it breakfast time already?" he said, grinning.

"It just might be." She thrust with the practice sword, but as he was moving out of the way, she turned her wrist. "If this was my greataxe, that would be the edge of the blade in your elbow, Commander. Where the armor is weakest. And from there, a quick move buries the other edge in your side."

He narrowed his eyes, judging the distance. "Possibly. Or perhaps it barely misses the elbow and I bash you with my shield."

"Splitting hairs, aren't you, Commander?"

"Just trying to keep you honest."

"All right, then, let's try again."

The teasing was gone from her eyes now; he had seen that look before in her sparring, and he knew it meant she had decided to win. It was no longer a training session, and Cullen would have to be on his toes.

He sidestepped her first attack, and she danced back from his. The same went for the second and the third on both sides. Cullen's longer legs and less unwieldy blade gave him a small advantage, but her agility and greater endurance countered those neatly.

As the bout went on, he was aware of people surrounding the ring; a match between the Inquisitor and the Commander was something to see, and they were giving a good show. And then it happened, as he had predicted earlier—her hair got in her eyes, and she slipped in the patch of mud.

A groan went up from the spectators, and Cullen could see money changing hands all around the ring.

Antonia was frowning; he knew her well enough to know that she was disappointed in herself for the loss. Confident and skilled, she retained the upper hand in most training sessions, and she didn't like to be overmatched.

But the frown passed, and she looked up at him ruefully. "Taken down by my own hair," she said. "I'm having it cut this afternoon."

He reached down a hand to help her up. "I would. I'd hate to see that happen in a real battle."

"Yes. Me, too."

Cullen saluted her with an arm over his chest. "Well fought, Inquisitor. We might just get you through this yet."

"Thank you, Commander." She looked up at him, her bright eyes catching and holding his in one of those moments that made the rest of the world stop moving. Those seemed to be happening more and more often, making him hope in spite of himself. In spite of his sure knowledge that such a thing was just not possible, when her eyes went all soft and wide and just a little bit hazy, as they were now, and her lips parted as though she were just waiting for his kiss, it was hard not to think that just maybe ...

He caught the thought before he could embarrass himself.

"Right. Well, I should get back to work." With a last nod of the head, he hurried from the field.