There's nothing wrong with a little online flirting. Cullen hardly ever expects it to go anywhere even if he really does like the man he's been chatting with for over a month.

The South is a wilderness of warring barbarian 'kings', raiding bands, bandits and other such creatures. Like every good citizen of the Imperium, Dorian Pavus despises the very thought of the place and all those savages who inhabit it, probably all sweaty and half-naked and... sorry, lost his train of thought for a moment there. Of course, most good citizens of the Imperium haven't just been captured by a group of said southern barbarians. (AU in which Hawke leads a raiding band, Dorian is the prize all his men are fighting over, Varric stands to make a lot of money off the betting pool, and Trevelyan is not the Inquisitor, he's a very naughty boy)

Playing designated driver is not Dorian's forte. Luckily, he's got some sober company in the form of the second most attractive friend in the group--after himself, of course. Dorian's not sure why Cullen comes to these parties. He doesn't drink, doesn't socialize, he even goes to work with most of these people! There has to be a reason though, right?

"Maker save me from you Southern chantry boys." Dorian shakes his head, rolling his eyes and not seeming like he minds being oggled all that much. "You believe in the Maker?" Cullen asks softly, stunned at the idea. He knew there was still a chantry further north, but the idea of them worshipping the same Maker Cullen does is difficult to grasp. "Don't you?"

Dorian had scarcely read through the first chapter when a shuffle of footsteps stopped outside his nook. He glanced up, a little warily, then set the book down on his lap in surprise: it was General Cullen, of all people, still in his military uniform, the khaki pressed to razor edges, the collar blood red against his throat, the gold star of his rank bright and high over his sleeves. “General,” Dorian greeted Cullen, when Cullen seemed to hesitate. Hells, but the man was ridiculously handsome, more so than Dorian had expected: it wasn’t just the uniform, at that - there was something deliciously attractive about a gorgeous man who was utterly unaware that he was gorgeous. “Something the matter?”

“Hey. Hey. I have an awesome idea,” Sera said suddenly, having rolled slowly onto her back until her head and part of her shoulders were hanging off the edge of the couch. “We could… we could totally set Dorian up. With one of our, our other friends. He’ll cry less, we’ll drink less, everything will be great.” “… Sounds doable,” Evelyn burped. “But who?” “Urm.” Sera frowned. “What about Thom?” “Naaah. He’s too much of a sad puppy. He’ll make it worse.” “Bull?” “Think he’s banging some waitresses right now. At least two. At the same time without either of them knowing. It’s like some serious spy shit.”

Cullen is more than happy to make an appearance at the conclave at Seeker Pentaghast's request. How was he supposed to know that a simple favour would change his life forever? AKA The Cullen as Inquisitor AU I have been thinking about for some time.