Confession: I’m glad Bioware, for once, remembered their own lore and removed that stupid lion helmet Cullen wore in the trailer. Lions are a symbol of Orlais, like the serpent is a symbol of Tevinter. So unless Cullen swore allegiance to Orlais, he wouldn’t be wearing that helmet.
I recall listening to a podcast or con-vid of the Bioware team discussing this very helm. Apparently they were trying to push the trailer out ASAP for a deadline when they encountered a bug that caused Cullen’s mouth to just hang open like he was screaming constantly/not sync to his dialogue. They didn’t have time to fix it so they just stuck the lion helm on him to hide his gaping maw so they could release the trailer; then removed it once the bug was fixed.
I saw your tags on Cullen and Dorian, when you have time could you give us some wonderful meta on why you think those two would work canonically?
Sure. I don't know that it's an OTP of mine or whatever, but I do have a few thoughts on why I like the two of them together:
Dorian is everything the Chantry taught Cullen to fear. He's a Tevinter magister ("ALTUS!" Dorian screams from the background), and of course all Tevinters are blood mages, right? But it's more than that. Dorian is a mage who's never known the leash of the Templars or the Circle, at least not as the prison that it is in the South. That's something for which Cullen has no context. What is a mage like without the Templar institution to keep him in check? Cullen likely can't even conceive of it.
Cullen is just as threatening, in his own way. In Dorian's experience, Templars are glorified attack dogs. He's never before seen a Templar with the ability to cancel magic; he'd be frightened, I think, if he weren't so intrigued by the concept. (Which is basically Dorian in a nutshell.)
Plus, in Tevinter, everybody knows that Southerners are barbarians who keep their mages locked up in cages – barely better than the Qunari, who rip out their mages' tongues – but here comes one of those would-be jailors and he seems… not all that bad? Like he genuinely wants to do the right thing? (It's a good thing Dorian and Cullen didn't meet last game, is all.)
So each is to the other an unknown quantity, and neither is anywhere close to what they've been taught to expect. But rather than being afraid of each other, they seem to have reached out instead, tried to strike some common ground. Maybe it's because both men see in the other a person of integrity, someone who genuinely wants to make the world a better place. Maybe it's because they're both working for a common cause and it behooves them to get along. Or maybe it's because they're both just little kids on the inside, in desperate want of a friend.
Frankly, I like the two of them together mostly because Dorian and Cullen just flat out seem to like each other. In the chess scene we seem them joke together. They make each other laugh. They push each other, mentally, for fun. There's no drama between them, no rough edges rubbing against each other.
I like that, especially since both have a tendency to hold people at arm's length. Cullen's grappling with PTSD, addiction withdrawal, and being in a position of power – all of which are isolating on their own, but taken together, the poor guy must feel completely alone. And Dorian's such an obnoxious little know-it-all that even the people he should ostensibly get along with – Solas, Vivienne – he pushes away. When together, though, Dorian and Cullen seem to just have a good time. No jibes, no barbs. Just chill.
Also it's canon that Dorian thinks Cullen's hot, so there's that too. :)
Cullen and Dorian’s friendship deepens. Cullen is a romantic. Dorian is literally cold. Cullen is no longer certain what he would consider surprising. Mages and Templars working in perfect cooperation, perhaps. Evil and corruption disappearing into the ground along with the blight, blood magic falling so far out of favor it ceased to be. A united Thedas: that would be a surprise.
Crystals glitter in the air. Cullen notices this in stillness, near the cooking fires. Snow wisps around them, and his nose runs, one ungraceful drop after another falling to dot the armor plate on his chest.
The Tevinter mage has his left side angled toward the largest fire, unsurprisingly—his bare shoulder must be chilled to the bone. He’s hunched forward, breath hanging in white clouds in front of him, and he looks halfway asleep, which isn’t surprising either given the circumstances of his arrival.
What I like about this romance scene is how perfectly it fits within the context of Cullen's story. From the moment we see him, Cullen has thrown himself at and into the Inquisition, as a way to distract himself from his lyrium addiction. Yes, he defines himself by his work. But more than that, he needs his work to define him, because he's afraid of what he is or might become, if he doesn't have that distraction.
But by this point, he's mostly come to terms with his lyrium addiction. The pull in his bones for lyrium will never truly go away -- it never does with addiction -- but he's gotten control of it, and Cullen credits the Inquisitor as a major factor in his success. Love can't cure his addiction, but it can give you a reason to keep fighting it.
So it goes with Cullen. With the Inquisitor, Cullen "feels like quiet," as Cole says. Not that Cullen is quiet -- no, he still hears the song, but it feels like he doesn't; it has no sway over him any longer.
Now that he's in control of his addiction, he doesn't need the work to define him any longer. He still believes in the Inquisition; he still works hard for it. But he can put that burden down now. He can, er, sweep it aside for what he wants. What he's chosen for himself. Because Cullen's story is all about how our choices are what truly define us, and here he's choosing to love, to let himself be loved; to make himself vulnerable and to let someone else in.
I absolutely love the line "he feels like quiet", which on the surface sounds like such a simple thing to say -- he feels peaceful, calm, etc -- but when you take into account that for most of his adult life, Cullen has heard (and even been tormented by) lyrium's irresistible song ... yeah, it breaks my heart. In a good way.
(Oh no sweetheart I'm so sorry to hear about your accident! I'm sending good thoughts for a speedy recovery) Corinne carries a notebook with her everywhere to sketch plants and press specimens between the pages, and it's intensely precious to her. She loses it in the avalanche at Haven, and Cullen (who headcanon likes to sketch with charcoals when no one is watching) sees how distressed she is and gives her one of his blank notebooks. It's the first time they share a moment.
SO CUTE
When he notices what she's doing, he gives her an elfroot, even though she's already got, like, twenty, because obviously the Inquisition can never have enough elfroot :)
The Inquisitor’s reply her Commander’s ‘regretful’ report (x) (x)
Commander,
It ailed me to read your former report. I had not considered that in my leaving I would take my mouth with me, and from you, and that I might have neglected your mouth in the process. For you, too, bear a fine mouth, and it grieves my mouth to have parted from it (especially during the night, but… we will not speak of such things here).
I have to ask you, as the Inquisitor, is there any way that my mouth might make an apology? My mouth would like to do all that it can to apologise to your mouth, such a wonderful and sensitive mouth that it is. My mouth should make amends. Do get back to me on a solution to this, Commander, with your dependable, military advice.
Although, I too have a concern I must press you with. I had not wanted to worry you, but in light of what you have written, I fear I must confess to it. Although I may have taken my mouth from you, you have also neglected to leave me your hands. I have been awfully lonely without them, and I would request, Commander, that you do your best to occupy your hands until I return. Write your reports and practice with your army, as your hands may have no time for these things when I come home. I regret to inform you that they may be too busy with the mouth (and other parts) that I took from you, all those weeks ago.
I am sorry to trouble you with this letter. I know that you are busy with other pressing matters, but I would not have written you were it not of the utmost importance and concern. I fear this is a dire subject, and must be treated with care. Your silence is requested in this matter, as this is for your eyes and your eyes only. But I will delay no further; I will be brief.
It has come to my attention of late that you are in possession of an exceptional mouth. Unfortunately, this mouth has recently been taken from my company, for far too many weeks, and while I understand that your mouth is a great benefit to the Inquisition, and the people it inspires, I fear I have grown an inordinate fondness for this mouth, and would see it returned to me as soon as possible. I fear your mouth has lacked kisses since the day I last saw you, and I would do my best, as your Commander, to undo this terrible fault if you would return home to me. All that is in my power will be yours. All your mouth desires, it shall have—your eyes, too, and your hands, and your arms, your legs, your stomach—if only you return with that precious mouth still in-tact—(no bleeding lip, as the time before!)
I await your thoughts on the matter, as always, Inquisitor.
Travel safe. And remember, my lips are missing yours, too.
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