Provisions are necessary, if he's going to hide. Cullen borrows a basket from the kitchen, loads it up with a few hand pies and a bottle of wine, and troops back up to his office.

-- Mia. He can write Mia, like she's always asking.

The things he took off the Warden corpses are still on his desk, along with a very smudged letter to -- someone. It's not his business. Alistair left it.

He organizes the letters in a pile, then pulls Mia's last letter out of another pile. She did something rude in her salutation, so he can do it right back --

Right. She provided a template. For him to use to let her know he's still alive.

Mia --

Still alive.

-- Cullen

He lets out a breath, alternately amused and exasperated. There. He's done the bare minimum.

What if he did more? What would he say? It's not like her last letter was that long. And it's not like he'd actually have to send anything unless he wanted to.

After a moment's thought he locates another blank page and starts to write, with plenty of scratch-outs and smudges.