The war room was stifling. The scent of hot wax, perspiration, and musty books created a thickness in the air that made it difficult to breathe. Hadynne Trevelyan, the newly appointed Inquisitor, was standing at the massive oak table, her russet eyes fixed on the tiny glass figurines that her advisers used to plan soldier movements. She was supposed to meet with Varric's contact soon, but all she could think about was the ancient darkspawn magister that had nearly killed her at Haven. How was she supposed to defeat a creature as powerful as him? With a dragon at his call, no less?
She could still feel the pull of the red lyrium. It made her uncomfortable, as if she didn't quite fit inside her own skin when in proximity to it. It was dark, blighted. It corrupted everything it made contact with. Varric had been right about it being evil. Nothing like it should exist. The dwarf wanted as much of it destroyed as possible. Hadynne was going to see it done, even if she didn't do the deed herself.
"Inquisitor?" Cullen's voice interrupted her thoughts. Blinking the weariness from her eyes, she glanced up at him. She wasn't the only one feeling the pressure it seemed. His face was paler than normal, sweat beading along his temples. Dark circles were present under his eyes as if he hadn't slept well in days. She truly hoped that wasn't the case.
"Perhaps we should take a break, Commander." Leliana's Orlesian accent intruded before she could muster a response. "Get some fresh air?"
Hadynne noticed the worried expression on the spymaster's face. "I agree, Leliana. We can resume this in an hour."
Cullen's gaze moved from the Inquisitor to the bard. "If that is what you wish."
Neither woman spoke, but waited until Cullen had taken his leave. When the double doors to the war room were tightly shut between them and the commander, Leliana turned to Hadynne. "I fear for him. His withdrawals grow worse by the day."
"Cassandra doesn't seem to share your opinion." Twisting her hands into the folds of her plush ebony skirt, Hadynne tried to hide her own doubts from the keen eyes of the rogue. She was concerned about Cullen as well, but weakness was not something she wished to show in front of her advisers.
"If I may be so bold as to suggest it," Josephine said sweetly, the diplomat's attention focused on where the Inquisitor was mangling her skirts. "But maybe you should check on our dear Commander. To ease our fears, of course."
She realized what Josephine was trying to do. Ever since Hadynne had been caught flirting with the Commander, her friend had taken to throwing them together as often as possible. The Inquisitor respected Cullen, more than she had any other templar before. He was strong. He was handsome. He was kind to those who served below him. He never used his power to dominate others and always said what was on his mind. Only a fool wouldn't have paid attention to Cullen Rutherford.
But he was in pain. He needed her friendship. He needed her support, much the way she had needed his in the past. With a nod in Josephine's direction, Hadynne silently agreed to seek out her military advisor. She left the war room a few moments later, her thoughts focused on finding Cullen before he succumbed to his addiction.
Cullen wasn't in his quarters. The desk that he did most of his work at was deserted, papers shrewn about, an unopened bottle of wine acting as a makeshift paperweight. A few ink bottles were scattered about, a quill poking out of one of them. A text about Chantry teachings sat atop one of the paper piles. Hadynne ran her hand over the worn cover, her fingers tracing the sunburst etched there.
The Chantry had secrets, many of them revolving around the use of lyrium. Hadynne had a sensitivity to the stuff, so much so that she couldn't take it often. In truth, she hated it. The sisters claimed often that the lyrium was what gave templars their abilities. What it really was was a means of control. It was the leash that bound these men and women to the Chantry. They took lyrium until they formed an addiction and once that was cemented, they never left their posts.
The withdrawal had killed some of the templars in their army, many of them wanting to do what Cullen was, breaking their tie to the Chantry. The lucky ones spent most of their nights in the healer's tent, the shock to their bodies making them ill and unable to function. The unlucky ones… well, she couldn't think of what happened to them. It disgusted her that anyone could put such honorable men and women through this.
The door opened behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught the sight of Cullen watching her, his shoulder pressed against the wooden door as he used it as a crutch to remain standing. She frowned. His face was flushed against his ghostly white skin, his eyes bloodshot and confused. He was shivering despite the layers he wore, barely able to keep on his feet.
"Hadynne?" His voice quivered as he spoke. "What are you-"
She took a step toward him just as his legs gave out. He weighed a whole lot more than she did so as her arms caught him, both of them collapsed to the floor. He landed half on her lap and half on the floor. It was a bit of a struggle, the combined weight of his body and his armor difficult to move, but Hadynne managed to adjust her posture so that he could comfortably lay his head in her lap. His breathing came irregularly. His hands were clenched into tight fists.
"I'm s-sorry." Cullen muttered, his eyes closed to the world.
Hadynne shushed him, keeping fear out of her voice when she spoke. "There is no need to apologize, Cullen. You aren't well."
"You shouldn't have to see me like this. It's not your responsibility to care for me. I-" Cullen swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing with the effort it took. "I can c-call someone to-"
"Nonsense." She noticed that he had said 'care for me' and not 'take care of me.' Taking the hem of her skirts, she wiped the cold sweat from his face. "We are friends. At least, I hope we are."
Cullen's hand reached up to grip the hand wiping his face. His eyes remained closed, but he squeezed it as firmly as he could. "The best of friends, Hadynne."
The statement brought a small smile to her face. "I'm glad."
He released her hand before wrapping his arms around his body. He shivered. Hadynne moved from wiping his brow to running her fingers through his soft, blond curls. His hair was damp from the perspiration. She remembered when she'd been like this. It was the morning after her Harrowing. She had been instructed to consume a lot of lyrium before having to complete a challenge in the Fade. It turned out that she had to face a demon and resist the temptation to let it possess her. She had beaten it without a hiccup, but unfortunately, the lyrium had given her unbearable chills and a headache so terrible that she had refused to take the potion again, unless under the most desperate of circumstances. Her closest friend had helped her through the aftermath of her Harrowing. Without him, she might have hurt herself.
"Cullen?" Hadynne whispered, not wanting to startle the former templar while he was in this state.
"Y-Yes?"
"I've come to the realization that I don't know much about you." She paused and rethought her sentence. "Besides your past as a templar, of course. It may have been a large part of your life, but it doesn't define who you are."
Cullen was silent. Hadynne wasn't sure if he'd fallen asleep or if he was thinking of how to respond, but she didn't disturb him. She was content with comforting him if that was what he needed. She would be his friend for as long as he needed her to be. It would be hard for him, her seeing him like this, but she couldn't bear what he'd go through without her there. She didn't want anyone to experience this alone.
When he did speak, it was with an uncertain voice. "What d-did you want to know?"
Hadynne smiled to herself. There were so many questions she wished to ask of him, but she didn't wish to overwhelm him while trying to help. "Let's start with something easy. Where did you grow up?"
"H-Honnleath." He responded automatically. "It's a village in the south of Ferelden."
"Is that where you learned you wanted to be a templar?" Hadynne asked, brushing some of his hair away from his forehead.
"Yes. There was a templar whom I followed around. He recruited me when I was thirteen."
"Do you have any siblings?"
"Yes. Three. T-Two sisters and a brother."
"Three? Impressive. What are their names?" She prompted, wanting to hear more about this other Rutherford children.
As Cullen talked, Hadynne Trevelyan listened intently, asking questions where she needed to. The entire time she was distracting Cullen, she found that she truly was learning more about his life before the Inquisition and that, in turn, made her happy. She was even enjoying herself.
"W-What about you?" Cullen asked, his breathing a little steadier, but his body still shaking.
"Hmm?"
"Do you have any siblings?"
Hadynne tried to think back to the time before she went to the Circle, but for all she tried, she honestly couldn't remember anything about it. "I… don't know."
"You don't remember your parents? If you h-had an annoying older brother?"
Hadynne could feel his body calming slightly. "I remember my parents, but their faces are lost to me. If I saw them now, I probably wouldn't know them."
Cullen shifted his weight slightly. "I'm sorry."
Hadynne laughed lightly, though it wasn't in amusement. It was more of a calming laugh. She wasn't bitter about not speaking to her parents, about not knowing her family. It was how life had been for her, and that was okay. "There is nothing to be sorry for, Cullen. I've had a pleasant life. The Circle in Ostwick was nothing like Kirkwall, or even Ferelden's. The mages were treated fairly. We were given opportunities and freedoms that many other circles didn't have. I truly miss it."
"Did you have many friends there?" Cullen prompted, all his attention fixed on her and not at all on his withdrawal symptoms.
"I had some. Not as many as you're probably thinking. I was more of the bookish type." This brought a chuckle from him and she felt herself breathing a little easier. "You laugh, but you should have seen me before the rebellion made us all apostates. I'd sit in the library for hours studying or reading some fascinating literature. Did you know that it took over a hundred years to end the First Blight?"
Cullen opened his eyes and smiled. He was looking better, although his face was still a little pale. "You're right."
"About?"
"You're a nerd." He said, weakly.
"Excuse me." She said, faking offense, but refusing to hide her grin. "I'm educated, ser."
"Call it whatever you like, Lady Trevelyan. The fact stands." Cullen sighed happily, his body relaxing from its tense position. "What about your friends?"
"Oh, they were mostly templars so no, they didn't really hang around the library all the time." Hadynne missed most of them. She wondered where they had gotten to after the rebellion had started. She prayed to the Maker that they'd survived the war.
"You were… friends with templars?" The shock in Cullen's voice startled her slightly.
"Is that wrong of me to do?" She asked curiously.
"No, it's just- not something I've seen." His admission seemed to not come easily. "I knew templars that befriended mages and it… it didn't turn out well."
"Did you not befriend mages in Ferelden?" She didn't even bother to ask about Kirkwall. She knew the answer to that question.
"Never. It was forbidden." Cullen sounded sad.
Hadynne placed a hand on his upper arm and gave it a squeeze. "Well, you have a friend in a mage now."
Cullen smiled once more. "So it would seem."
A comfortable silence fell between them as they sat there. In that moment, there was no where else she desired to be.
"You have to admit," she mused, her hands still absently brushing through Cullen's hair. It had become second nature. "Talking like this is preferable to sitting in that stuffy old war room."
"I, in fact, enjoy that war room." Cullen told her, sounding like he was more than slightly upset.
"Is that a... joke, Commander?" She asked, appalled that he would actually enjoy that terrible smelling room.
"Not at all, my lady." He continued, his voice holding all the seriousness in the world. "And to think that you would insult my favorite area in Skyhold is unflattering to you."
Hadynne lifted a hand to her face, mortified. She had done so much to help him only to slight him at the end of it all. "I didn't realize… Cullen, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't intend to-"
Cullen laughed, a loud, booming noise that made Hadynne's heart jumped wildly. As the chuckles died away, his amber gaze found hers, a smirk turning the corner of his lips upward. "You believed me, didn't you?"
"You are a horrible, horrible man, Cullen Rutherford." Hadynne responded, not meaning a word of it. She doubted there was much of anything Cullen could do to make her truly hate him.
His hand found hers again. The sincerity in his eyes as he sat up to meet her gaze moved her. Josephine had been right to send her after him. Only a friend could have helped him. "Thank you for this, Hadynne. I don't think I could have gotten through this without you."
"Cullen, what kind of person would I be to leave you in such a state?" She leaned forward and brushed his arm with her hand. "I care for you."
The Commander rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to respond. "I- well, thank you again. It was appreciated and I'm glad that it was you with me, and not some templar I didn't know."
"Anytime." With a tender smile on her face, the Inquisitor leaned forward once more and kissed his forehead affectionately. As she pulled back, she noticed the blush forming on his cheeks, this time from embarrassment. This was something Hadynne loved to see. A flustered Cullen was adorable. It made her heart beat faster and she knew, one day, that this wonderful man would take those final steps to kiss her. But today was not that day. So instead, she smirked and with a hand resting softly against his chest, she said, "What are friends for?"