Chapter Text
When Cullen sat down to a meeting with Josephine and found the Inquisitor's hunting jacket, he didn't give it a second thought. "Oh, she was just here," Josephine said with a sigh. "She must have left it. Do you mind?"
Of course he didn't, though he wasn't sure when he was going to have time to see Talia that afternoon. He slung the jacket over his arm, cradled under the pile of letters he needed to Leliana to read through before he could send them.
In the rookery, Cullen blinked at the beige boots Leliana begged him to bring back to Talia's quarters. They looked exactly like her other boots, the soft leather ones she always wore around Skyhold. "They aren't, though!" Leliana insisted, holding one far too close to his face. "Look at the stitching here! How tiny, how precise! I had to pay a fortune to a cobbler in Val Royeaux for such quality!" The Commander didn't argue, only nodded his agreement to the favor and added the boots to the jacket in his arms.
He chuckled when, upon passing Varric, the dwarf stopped him and handed him the next book in the Swords and Shields serial. "I promised Sunburst," he said, by way of explanation, and Cullen couldn't imagine denying his love her favorite books.
When he stopped by the undercroft to ask Harrit about more swords for his soldiers, he encountered a squealing arcanist waving something bright and heavy-looking. "I'm so glad you're here!" Dagna shrieked upon seeing the Commander, her voice so high-pitched Cullen had to resist the urge to cover his ears. "Isn't this beautiful!" She held up the Inquisitor's new breastplate, a small but highly polished piece with the Inquisition's heraldry on the front.
Of course it was, Cullen agreed, and of course he would see it safely to her quarters. Thankfully, her hunting jacket fit neatly inside the breastplate's slightly concave back, and her book rested easily on top. It might not have been the most easily carried package, but he didn't mind the extra weight. He bent to pick up her boots, balancing everything in one arm while his fingers hooked into the leather, and headed out.
The tavern was next on his list, as he needed to talk to Krem about an assignment for the Chargers, but he had barely gotten inside the Herald's Rest before being assaulted by Sera. "Here's the Quizzie's pants," the elf blurted, unceremoniously dropping a pair of dark, crumpled leather leggings on top of the book Cullen held. "Don't get them off again too fast, yeah?" Moments later, before he could even blush, Bull added a crimson shirt to the pile. "Boss asked me to find her something in Antivan red," he said mysteriously, throwing Cullen a salacious wink.
The Commander was left standing in the middle of the tavern, his arms draped with far too many items and his jaw slack. He wondered if it were possible for his day to get weirder when, on cue, Cole materialized and handed him a bouquet of …was that mint? and dawn lotus blossoms? Cullen was too flustered to even talk to Krem, instead leaving to find Cassandra.
He didn't get far. Dorian sauntered by, and in passing deposited a pair of gloves and a silk scarf on the pile. "Our darling Inquisitor has been trapped in her office for hours," he informed Cullen. "Do be a dear and bring her these? I promised I would, but I just can't find the time to get up there this afternoon." He batted his eyelashes innocently, and Cullen glared as his mustachioed, smirking face disappeared into the tavern. Can't find the time, indeed.
He sighed. Normally he wouldn't mind doing Talia favors, as clearly she had been so swamped since her latest mission that she couldn't run her errands, but the sheer volume of things to bring her was overwhelming. He wasn't even sure if he'd have time to visit her; she was clearly hard at work, and he didn't want to interrupt. Thankfully he only had one more person to see -- his arms were starting to go numb.
Visiting Cassandra didn't have quite the soothing effect he was hoping for. They discussed Alistair's installment as the new leader of the Grey Wardens, which had been delayed for almost three months now since Adamant due to his injuries from the Fade. But when the Seeker gave him her closest approximation to a sympathetic smile, Cullen started to get suspicious.
"Another item for the Inquisitor?"
"She asked me to test these," the Seeker said and pulled out two oilcloth-wrapped daggers. "I do not find them to my liking. Could you return them to her?" Cullen sighed but accepted them, recognizing the blades as the ones Talia had just recently stopped using in battle. He was sure she would want them back. He was also sure she could have picked them up herself at a later date.
Solas stopped him on his way to his office. The mage made idle conversation for a few minutes until, seeing Cullen's discomfort, he gave in. "The Inquisitor," he began, and Cullen felt his mouth twist into an involuntary frown. "Asked me to send up a fresh journal. If you could take it to her, I would most appreciate it." He deposited a large volume on top of everything else, adjusting it carefully so it wouldn't fall off. Cullen managed a small nod before excusing himself.
A scrap of white linen lay on his desk, and he almost screamed in frustration. Surely, if he'd been holding his sword instead of a mess of Talia's things, he would have sliced whatever it was to ribbons.
Given his current situation as Talia's pack mule, however, he placed everything carefully onto his chair. He would have much preferred throwing them out the window at this point, but he held back. Crossing to his desk, he picked up the white fabric and studied it for a long moment.
Then he turned swiftly back to the chair and gathered everything back up in his arms. The heavy door to his tower slammed shut as he hurried out, and his footsteps echoed on the stone as he nearly ran to the keep.
Behind him, Talia's white linen breastband settled to the stone of the breezeway.