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

Concentration

12 Haring, 9:41

"How many of these games have we played now?" Antonia asked him, deftly putting the chess pieces in place.

"Oh, a dozen or so." Cullen hadn't been counting. Since he had yet to win a single game against her, he played more to spend time with her than out of any hope of winning. Although he had spent a fair amount of time playing against Dorian, who was almost as good as she was, and looking through all the books on chess in the library, he hadn't managed to find a way to beat her yet.

"Isn't it about time we made it more interesting?"

"Interesting how?" Cullen asked warily.

"Perhaps we should add stakes."

"Stakes? What's my incentive for that, when you always win?"

Antonia paused in the act of making her first move, frowning thoughtfully. "You could win."

"Not since you were twelve, you said."

"There's a first time for everything."

"And you think I should gamble on that?"

She shrugged, putting the piece down. It was a variation on her standard opener; Cullen had a few options to put the game on the right track for now. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Antonia said.

He decided on a strategy, and moved a piece. It occurred to him that if she was bringing this up, she must have stakes in mind, and he could feel his pulse leap, wondering what those stakes might be. There were certainly a few things she could ask for that would make him not mind losing at all. Then he thought of a plan he'd had in mind for a few days, since she suggested to him on the battlements that Skyhold wouldn't fall apart if he took some time for himself. "All right," he said. "You're on. On the off chance that I win, I know what I'm asking for."

"Oh, that sounds mysterious. What is it?"

"You find out if I win."

"And if I win? What do I get?"

"What do you want?" Their eyes met over the board, and Cullen felt a jolt of desire that nearly made him groan out loud. Maker, he knew what he wanted. For now, he held himself back because the demons in his dreams persisted in wearing her face and speaking in her voice, and he wanted to be sure he had enough control over himself to keep those images from haunting him at the wrong times. How close he had come to letting the lyrium win still scared him. If Antonia hadn't been there— Cullen had to admit it frightened him a little how important she had become in his life.

Antonia cleared her throat. "If I win, I get to ask a question, any question, and get an answer."

"What question?" He couldn't imagine what question she could ask that he wouldn't answer. He'd told her about Ferelden's Circle—there were no skeletons worse than that in his closet. "You know, actually, it doesn't matter. I agree to your terms. Now, hush."

"Hush?"

"Yes. I want to win, which means concentration." He frowned at the board, ignoring Antonia's chuckle.

It was the most silent game of chess he had played in a long time—it reminded him, truth be told, of that long-ago game against Mia, when he had been so determined to win and wipe that smug look off her face. They gathered a crowd of onlookers who commented on the game in whispers, including Dorian, who seemed to find it quite amusing.

There came a point where Cullen began to think he had a shot. Antonia was on the run, pulling her pieces back into a defensive position, which she rarely did. Usually she played a very aggressive game, snatching her pieces out of the jaws of destruction at the last minute, and doing so maddeningly often. But today his strategy was pressing her on all sides and she was falling back to regroup her pieces.

She never got the momentum back. Cullen could feel a grin spreading across his face uncontrollably as they got closer to the end and it became more and more evident that she had lost. For her part, Antonia seemed shocked, which wasn't helping her get out of the corner he had backed her into.

At last, he made the last move. "And that, I believe, is checkmate," he said with great satisfaction. To his surprise, there was applause all around them—he had forgotten about their audience. In a rare moment of theatricality, he stood up and took a bow.

For her part, Antonia looked stricken. "I think you cheated."

Dorian, lounging against a column, laughed at her. "My dear, you were outplayed. The Commander has improved his game to some purpose, it would seem. But pretend to yourself he cheated if it makes you feel better. I lay odds that he'll beat you again the next time."

"Did anyone ask you?" she said to the mage, but she was smiling. She stood up and crossed her arm over her chest, bowing to Cullen. "Well played, Commander."

"Why, thank you, Inquisitor." He really couldn't help crowing, just a little. "It truly pains me to have broken your winning streak."

"It does not."

Leaving Dorian to set up the board for a match against Flissa, Skyhold's seneschal, Cullen and Antonia walked across the garden. "Well, that settles that," she said. "That's the last time we play for stakes."

"You're only saying that because you lost."

"I'm saying that because you're no fun when you really want to win." She looked up at him almost shyly, her cheeks pink. "I don't enjoy playing chess half as much as I enjoy spending time with you."

"Really?" He smiled at that idea. "Then you might like having lost. What was your question, anyway?"

"I don't know. I had a few."

Cullen stopped walking, turning to look at her. "Antonia, if there's ever anything you want to know, you don't have to win a chess game. I think I've told you everything I ... usually don't talk about. If you can hear all of that and by some miracle still be standing here with me, I can't imagine what else there is that I wouldn't tell you."

There was a suspicious shine in her eyes. "I'll keep that in mind," she whispered.

"Good."

With a deliberate change of tone, she said, "So, what did I lose?"

"Ah." He smiled. He'd been thinking of this for several days, and had only worked out how to manage it this morning. He hadn't figured out how to ask her until she'd come up with the idea of playing for stakes. "Inquisitor, clear your calendar. I have some ... dealings in Ferelden, and you're coming with me."

"Dealings?" she echoed. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course," she said, gratifyingly quickly.

"Good. Then I would rather explain there. Now go pack. And Antonia?" he called after her, as she started moving away with a final confused glance. "No need for armor."

She looked even more confused, but waved her hand in assent, leaving Cullen to return to work and try, futilely, to concentrate.