Oh my goodness, I can't believe I'm back to writing for Dragon Age! This is AU and contains spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition, so you have been warned.
Thanks for reading/reviewing as always! :D
The prayer recited is an adaptation of the Catholic prayer "Hail, Holy Queen"
Colette Trevelyan sighed as she shut her book on herbs and tonics, tossing it to the side of the couch she was lounging on. In a swift movement, she flung herself down in a sprawling position on the Orlesian-made, faux leather piece of furniture with her hand shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun that pooled into her room. After a time, she lifted her hand to study the swirls of color that danced around her skin due to the light shining through the colored-stained glass that decorated the space.
Josephine, the Inquisition's ambassador, had scolded her earlier that day for eating her soup with the dessert spoon in front of the Comte De Orion from Orlais, and then again for approaching another dignitary on the wrong side (supposedly, one approaches such people on the side opposite their sword hand so as to appear "non-threatening.") According to the woman, the Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste should, "learn such basic customs of nobility so as not to offend one's allies."
Colette could feel her chest tightening at the thought. Yes, she was considered a "Lady," and yes, her family had connections and money, but all of these things did not define her. None of these things really told people about who she was behind the fancy titles and shiny clothes. Colette blew a raspberry into the air, a bad habit she had learned from her rogue companion, Sera, and sat upright once more. She stood and began pacing around the spacious room, her head beginning to ache. Her gaze traveled to her writer's desk to where a single piece of parchment rested atop the wooden table. She stopped abruptly, the recent memory of a conversation fluttering to life again in her mind.
Now walking over to the desk, the woman picked up the report, and her slender fingers traced the dried ink on the page delicately. They paused for a moment over the signature "Commander Cullen" that was written in a cursive script, before Colette crumpled the paper and threw it into the blazing fireplace next to her.
Maybe a walk around the garden will distract me...
As soon as Colette entered the lush expanse, she was bombarded by Chantry sisters and pilgrims wishing to shake the hand of the "Herald of Andraste." Her forced smile and terse words were polite enough to appease the group, and after several grueling minutes of kissing cheeks and answering questions on philosophy, the hoard of people dispersed to wander around the place once more. Colette muttered bitterly to herself and chose to stick to the shadows of the gardens to avoid any lingering stares. She counted the stone tiles beneath her moving feet as she circumvented the area. When was it that being so famous meant being so...so alone?
Colette turned her focus to the small chapel in the garden. Decorated with candles and a statue of Andraste herself, the Chantry's faithful often left tithes or prayers scribbled onto pieces of torn parchment in front of a meager alter. She bit her lip to keep from sighing like some love-struck youth due to the sight she saw waiting for her.
There he was, the commander of the inquisition's army, her advisor and confidant. Cullen had the respect of hundreds upon hundreds of men, and through his hard work and dedication to their cause, quietly demanded respect from both allies and enemies alike. So much power under his control, Colette thought as she allowed herself to stare at the man now on bended knee, and yet, he's just as soft-spoken and humble as any man I've ever met.
Her eyes drank in the sight of him further, and her heartbeat quickened. Cullen's wavy, wheat-colored hair shined burnt golden in the orange light of the day, and his full armor nearly sparkled as the man moved slightly in contemplation. His eyes were shut and his hands were folded to hide moving lips that made no sound.
Maker and Creators, but he sure is pleasing on the eyes.
Colette stepped in his direction, but the soft sound did not go unnoticed by the man. Cullen did a double-take when he saw who it was, and he quickly stood up with a few mumbles of embarrassment. Pink rose up in his milky complexion, and he shifted side to side on his feet, causing the metal bits of his armor to click as he fidgeted.
"Do you pray, Lady Inquisitor?" He managed to stumble through his words as he walked to stand before her.
Colette scoffed a little more sarcastically than she had meant to, and when Cullen looked at her with a furrowed brow, she felt compelled to offer him an answer. She wrung her hands on her maroon mage's cloak. "I know this may come as a shock to so many, but I've only prayed once in my life and never again." She looked down at her palms and studied the lines there.
"And- - -" Cullen paused for a moment, an unspoken question lingering on his full lips as his eyes diverted from Colette's gaze. "- - -what did you pray for?"
Colette watched him for what seemed like hours although it could have only been moments. The wind rustled through the foliage, swirling her dark auburn hair around her back and shoulders. "For the Maker to take away my magic," she replied quietly.
Cullen cleared his throat while rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. Her words carried him back to a time he tried daily to forget. The mages in the Circle he had been assigned to when he was a new Templar- - - some of them had said those exact words to him in one form or another. At the time, he lauded them for feeling that way, interpreting their hurt and anxiety as proof that they accurately knew their place within a society devoted to the Maker's will. How far had he come in his thinking from those days so long ago, he thought to himself as he looked down at the woman now standing there. He tilted his head to the side as his heart ached for her.
When he did speak, his voice had dropped to a whisper. "For what it's worth, I'm glad the Maker made you as you are."
Their eyes met, and for a breath's time, something flashed in the young woman's eyes that Cullen could not discern. Whatever emotion passed through her, it was pushed aside just as quickly only to be replaced by walls he knew all too well were there. Finally, he motioned with a slight wave of his hand that they continue walking. The commander of the inquisition did not speak further, but exhaled quietly in a long, drawn out breath.
After some time, Colette chanced a glance in Cullen's direction, but was surprised by the beads of sweat covering his brow. Looking down, she noticed he flexed his hands into a fist every so often. Nudging his shoulder "accidentally" brought the man's eyes to meet her own.
"How are you faring without lyrium?"
Now it was Cullen's turn to bristle at the personal question, and the scar decorating the man's mouth remained the only visible thing as he bit his lip. "I'm fine, do not trouble yourself with my problems."
The flatness in his voice caused Colette to instinctively reach out to him. "But, I just wanted to know if- - -"
"I need to get back to my duties," Cullen responded tersely as he distanced himself from her. "Another time, perhaps."
Colette was left standing in the middle of the garden, dumbstruck, as Cullen strode off towards the door that would lead him back into the safety of the Keep. People tried to mind their own business, but the hushed whispers followed Colette around until she felt smothered by them. She nearly broke into a jog to escape everyone, and didn't bother to stop until she reached an unoccupied area of the battlements that protected her home. Sitting with her legs dangling from the stony ledge, Colette breathed a sigh of relief at the surrounding silence.
This seems far enough.
Colette sat with her head in her hands while her mind replayed the day over and over again. What had been a chill in the afternoon air turned into a coldness that nipped at her body beneath her robes.
"Mind swirling, constant like a raging river. Twisting, turning, no relief, yet continues to help...continues to seek solemnly. All alone in a crowded room...peace fleeting and she is lost in the din...she is lost."
Colette jumped as Cole appeared to sit beside her, startling the woman in the process.
"I- - -" she tried to say but was interrupted by him again.
"I'm sorry, so sorry I can't do anything right today. I came out for the fresh air, to get away, but even that is spoiled by my talent for causing people more trouble. I couldn't say the right things to help him...I couldn't do the right thing to help him. And now I am only burdening you as well," Cole answered for her, parroting the woman's exact thoughts.
Colette blinked slowly, allowing her thoughts to trickle out of her for Cole's sake. It wasn't his fault that he could understand people's innermost feelings and desires. She faced the young man- - -or what she thought of as a young man- - - and attempted to offer an apology.
"I tried to get away so you wouldn't have to suffer through my silly thoughts. Looks like I didn't get away far enough."
Cole hummed as he swung his legs playfully over the ledge where the two were sitting. He twirled his fingers in front of his face absentmindedly. "You...want to help, don't you? Just like me...helping those who need. You are good. I want to be like you, too."
Colette looked into his face, searching for motivation behind the youth's large, mysterious eyes. Cole only smiled at her in return.
"Any ideas, then?" She replied.
Cole took her hands in his, lacing them together. "Your hands...they can sense more than what physically ails a person when they turn green."
She stared wide-eyed at him before answering. "How do you- - -" Colette cut herself off, understanding the answer to her own question before fully asking it.
It was a strange kind of hedge-magic she possessed, and she told only a few of the ability at all. Sometimes when applying healing magic to a person, she was also offered insight into feelings or powerful memories of a person's life. Oftentimes, it was only an image that she received of an important moment like the day they got married or the day they joined the Chantry. But sometimes, her hands felt another person's pain, happiness, or sadness as strongly as if they had been her own. It had initially caused a lot of unwanted stares from people who thought she was using blood-magic to read people's minds, so Colette decided early on in her magical training in the Circle to not let people know of her particular talents.
Cole cut into her thoughts once more, his voice almost amused when he spoke to her. "That mark is special, too...perhaps this will work- - -"
The place where their hands were joined erupted in a brilliant white light. Mana that was not her own filled Colette's body from the top of her head to the tips of her toes as she brought her free hand up to cover her eyes from the brightness of it. When the light faded and she opened her eyes, Cole was nowhere to be seen.
The woman twisted her body, looking wildly around but to no avail. She heard an owl hooting in the distance, calling into the still air, but people had retired inside for drinks and sleeping. She rubbed her hands together to warm herself up, shaking her head as she did so.
Must've dozed off, she rationalized as she got to her feet to stretch her limbs. After all, it had to have been a dream, Colette had thought to herself warily as she walked around the path made by the battlements. It seemed like she had been outside for hours, judging from the height of the moon in the velvet-blue sky, so everything she thought she experienced with Cole could only be explained that way. The woman ambled slowly, heading in the direction of Cullen's office while studying her hand that held the mystical power she used to close Fade Rifts.
Spirits...or whatever Cole is...don't just give others abilities like that. I really must be in need of sleep if I'm using him as a solution to things like this.
Colette's feet froze just before reaching the door to the commander's office, unmoving as her heart skipped a painful beat brought on by sudden fretfulness. Her head turned to the muffled sound coming from behind the door. She couldn't make out any discernible words, just- - -moaning.
Her eyes widened in realization. "Cullen," she breathed before opening the door.
Colette's attention was immediately drawn to the loft area where Cullen's sleeping quarters was located. A part of her screamed to not get involved in the matter, to just let him sleep it off. But, Cole's words echoed in the recesses of her mind as if he were beside her in spirit. Take his pain away...take his hurt away. You can help now.
She climbed the tall ladder as silently as she could and found the source of sound.
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Unclothed from the waist up, Colette's gaze fell upon the glean of sweat-streaked muscle as the moonlight illuminated the area. She covered her mouth to stifle a gasp when the man turned on his back, muttering softly as his hands balled themselves into white-knuckled fists. He looked like a tortured soul in the Fade she had seen in a painting once while she was still in the Circle- - -only difference was that the being before her was not made of brushstrokes and pastels, but a man of flesh and blood, bone and muscle.
The woman's hands trembled, hovering over Cullen's thrashing body. He looked ghostly in the cold night's light, with shadows etching harsh lines to accentuate a face marred in pain. Her bright, hazel-blue eyes softened, and her fingers pulsed with magical energy as she inhaled deeply. Carefully, she sat on the side of Cullen's bed as his mumbles became groans of displeasure mingled with fragmented memories that manifested themselves into pleading words.
"N-no, please no, Maker help me- - -"
Cullen...how long have you been suffering? Colette wiped the hot wetness she didn't realize had been spilling out of her eyes. Stupid man...trying to be so strong for the rest of us...who, then, will help you?
With a sharp inhale that stung her lungs, Colette knew what she had to do, and she wasted no time in placing her hands on the commander's shoulders. At first, nothing happened, and Colette feared what would happen if he were to wake up with her over him in such an intimate manner. She felt the well that was her magic in her very core, ebbing and flowing through her body, begging to be utilized. Her hands glowed green, a sign of her healing magic, but what should have felt like a warm, comforting sensation, like wrapping one's cold fingers around a warm drink, felt completely foreign to her.
A whimper bubbled forth from her lips as a sensation seeped into her blood through her hands. Her fingers shimmered brighter, but when she tried moving her hands off of his body, she found out she couldn't budge. Her hands stayed glued in a magical bond unlike anything Colette had ever felt before.
It felt like liquid fire in her body.
It scorched her behind eyelids that shut on their own accord- - -burned underneath her fingernails like hot needles- - -boiled the acid in her stomach until she tasted bile on her tongue.
The longer she held the skin to skin contact, the more the pain flooded into her. Colette opened her eyes long enough to see Cullen relaxing, his breathing beginning to return to the natural rhythms of a person in the midst of a peaceful slumber. Biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, Colette took it all in until her hands released themselves from Cullen's shoulders. Now with only a couple of candles lighting the room, a confusion riddled Colette's mind as she tried to regain a sense of her surroundings.
Two hands where there should have been one, two sets of windows looking out into the world, two figures of a man laying beside her- - -Colette knew she had to get down the long ladder soon before her swimming vision escalated. She didn't remember how she safely got down from the ladder, but as soon as her feet touched the ground, she stumbled frantically to get back to her room.
Now bursting through wooden doors, Colette leaned over one of the gaps in the stone battlements while whatever she had in her stomach resurfaced once more only to fall onto the ground below. In between vomiting until she could only dry-heave and groaning from what felt like her intestines being ripped to shreds, the woman felt tentative hands rubbing her back until they curled themselves around her hair to hold it back behind her.
Leaning against the side once she was done, Colette slid down until she was sitting with her chin to her knees on the stone path. Looking up, her vision focused long enough to see pointed ears and the sheen of a hairless head staring at her with an emotionless face.
She shut her eyes and tried to hide the utter shock in her voice at seeing Solas, of all people, helping her in such a way. "Please," Colette implored with a haggard breath, "please don't let anyone know about this."
Solas squatted to get to the woman's eye level. "I would not know what to tell the others even if I did wish to inform them of your state."
Colette thought hard at what implications there would be if she told Solas of the issue facing the commander before remembering that Solas also knew of Cullen's problems long before he had made an official report of it.
"Might as well tell you, seeing as you kept my hair from needing about ten washes tomorrow," Colette joked before wincing. "I absorbed Cullen's...effects from his lyrium withdrawal."
Solas' jaw pulsed on the sides of his face as he grit his teeth. "That cannot be safe," he replied slowly as his eyes turned to a steely grey.
The elf continued to study the woman, taking note of her difficult breathing and shaking body. Her hazel-blue eyes fluttered open to meet his own, and his brows lifted in confusion at the intensity he saw in them. He righted himself slowly, the wheels in his mind turning.
"Is he so valuable to you that you would willingly endure such- - -" he stopped, looking up into the sky as he thought for an appropriate word,"- - -discomfort?"
Solas nearly looked away at the harsh glare Colette shot in his direction. But, her face soon smoothed over as she wiped her arm over her mouth. Her voice sounded laced with emotion to the elf's ears.
"Yes."
Solas watched the woman try to stand on her own two feet, his face unreadable. What an odd human.
He steadied her with gentle hands, and proceeded to lead her to his own personal space within the massive castle. Dazed and still confused from everything that had happened, Colette allowed herself to put her trust in the ever-enigmatic elf. He walked her over to a simple lounging couch, telling her to sit while he padded over to the other side of the room on shoeless feet.
"You need to replenish your fluids," Solas addressed her in a soft but authoritative voice. "I have some soup broth from the evening meal and tea that the cooks brought me earlier while I was sleeping."
Within seconds, a tray of the aforementioned food appeared before the young woman's vision. Inhaling shakily, she stared but did not make any move to consume what was placed there.
"I-I thought you hated tea," she replied, trying to divert the conversation.
Solas could see the tinges of green coloring the sides of the woman's mouth, her lips turning downward at the corners at the sight of food.
"I do," he replied simply, "which is why I'm now offering it to you."
Now hovering his long fingers over the platter, Solas warmed the tea and soup for Colette, knowing that she was too weak to use her own magic to do so.
"Now eat, and I may be inclined to keep your secret."
Solas did not say another word to her, but turned his focus to a stack of papers on a wooden desk in the center of the room.
Cullen was missing the next morning during an early meeting at the war table, and Leliana was quick to ask one of her informants about it only to find out that no one had seen the commander at the morning meal.
They mustn't suspect a thing, Colette thought as her eyes tried to keep up with the multiple conversations going on in the room. Looks like I'll be paying Cole another visit to sweep this under the rug as well...
If everyone hadn't been fussing over Cullen's absence, someone would have seen the inquisitor twitching uncomfortably due to an exceptionally bad headache, and they would have taken note of her bloodshot eyes and sluggish movements. But no one saw, and the meeting was ended early until Cullen could be found.
Colette's muscles still felt like lead, pricking her with pain with every movement. Forcing air in and out of her lungs to ease her aches, the woman ventured outside to find the youth she was looking for.
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"Cole," Colette called as she jogged up to meet him. He turned slowly, raising his hand in the air to her. When he did not put it back down, however, Colette looked at him puzzlingly until she saw him jut out his lower lip in a pout.
"You said to hit hands when I'm happy about something."
"Ah, maybe I explained the idea of a 'high-five' poorly," she replied, her lips upturned slightly on one side in embarrassment. Colette clapped her hand to his to complete the gesture before continuing. "So, I take it you're in a good mood?"
"Yes," Cole replied with a shake of his head to move his white-blonde hair out of his eyes like a shaggy Ferelden hound."You saw me, and remembered...remembered me. So, I am glad."
Smiling genuinely now, Colette nodded in understanding. "What would you say to helping a little more with our friend, Cullen?"
Cole nodded, a goofy, innocent grin lighting up his boyish features before vanishing into thin air.
True to his word, Cole used his powers to make everyone forget that Cullen had been absent for the better part of the day, and made the man in question forget the fact that he had been sleeping for ten hours straight. Together, Cole and Colette fabricated Cullen's orders to the troops for the day, and made sure that no one knew any wiser. A pang of guilt formed a lump in Colette's throat at their deceptive tactics, but that disappeared when she met Cullen that afternoon and he told her he had never felt more rested in his life.
Seeing him smile happily like that made Colette decide she was going to keep her secret going for as long as she could.
Five days followed in similar fashion with Colette spending the beginning of the night absorbing any kind of withdrawal symptoms from Cullen to leave him with a restful night's sleep while she dealt with the effects for the remainder of the time. Solas helped her night after night, not saying a word until the fifth morning when the woman hadn't eaten anything the day before save for a few sips of water.
"My healing can only do so much," he said, pushing a few slices of bread in her direction. "But the magic works much better on a body that is not starving itself."
Colette pushed the plate away, feeling nauseous. "Who died and made you all-knowing?"
The elf's ears twitched and his lips curled minutely. "I'm going to assume you're cross because you're undernourished at the moment, and therefore, ignore your snideness."
A bell rang three times, a signal to everyone that a meeting had been summoned at the war table, and Colette jumped to her feet. Shoving two chunks of bread in her mouth, she raced to the door to ignore the elf who was now scowling at her with folded hands over his chest. "'Fanks!" She called in thanks before rushing to the spacious hall.
But just as she got to the massive door that led to the room, Colette's vision blurred in front of her as she tried to grasp the handle. Blinking several times, her eyesight finally corrected itself, and with a shake of her head, the inquisitor walked into the room as if nothing had happened.
Colette's head pounded behind stinging eyes. Everyone was now in the midst of talks on the next week's mission into the Hinterlands, but Colette did not hear them.
"Inquisitor?" Cullen said, forcing Colette to look in his direction. "Are you listening?"
She squinted her eyes at the man, but remained unsure of what she was looking at. "C-Cullen?" She slurred, trying to put her hands to rest on the war table only to have them waving in the air in front of her slowly.
She tried again to speak, trying to tell them how uncomfortably warm she suddenly felt- - -but all that came out of her mouth was gibberish.
All she heard next was the sound of air whooshing in her ears as she fell, the world coming to a screeching halt as a darkness enveloped her vision.
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When she had looked up at him, Cullen struggled to keep a stoic face at the darkness that seemed to cloud her once bright eyes. His mind raced at the sight of her. Maker, when had she begun to look so pale? How long have those circles under her eyes been there?
Her eyes unfocused on him, and a gasp echoed around the room when Colette fell backward as her body gave out from underneath her.
"Lady Inquisitor?!" Cullen cried in surprise as he maneuvered around the large war table with surprising speed.
He reached her just before she hit the ground.
"Get Solas, and tell him to meet me in the inquisitor's room," Cullen said, his hands smoothing back the woman's hair as he held her. When he looked up only to see those around him motionlessly watching his unusual display of tenderness, his eyes hardened as an irritated heat filled the pit of his stomach. "Now."
Lifting the woman easily into his arms once several agents dashed off to get the healer elf, Cullen was followed into the inquisitor's room by Varric and Cole who had heard the commotion earlier. The commander set her down carefully, worry creasing the lines around his forehead and eyes. He thought she looked like a porcelain doll lying there, seemingly lifeless beneath a plethora of blankets. He turned away and started a fire when Solas arrived, too distraught to watch the healing take place. But, once the fire was roaring merrily in its hearth, Cullen voiced his concerns quietly.
"I don't understand...how did this happen? Is she sick...Maker, if I had only paid more attention, then I would have seen the signs, noticed something- - -"
"I believe Cole has something he wishes to share with the group," Solas remarked as Cullen turned his attention to the boy who was now nearly hopping in place.
"I helped her help you," he said almost too enthusiastically.
Cullen's face darkened ominously as he stepped toward the young man. "You hurt her?" He growled.
Cole jumped behind Varric, cowering behind the dwarf.
"Relax, Curly, the kid was only doing what he thought was right," Varric said, patting the tall man on the back to get him to calm down before looking pointedly at Cole beside him. "Right?"
"She likes helping you," Cole responded with a slight whine, "Her voice is sweet and soft when she thinks of you."
Cullen blinked in surprise at the odd detail, color shading his cheeks at the thought.
"See, what did I tell you? She'll be fine," Varric added as he slapped the commander on the back. "Just give her a few hours to rest, and she'll be back to herself in no time."
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The agents exited the room after they had been dismissed, leaving only Varric, Solas and Cullen with the inquisitor.
"You said the inquisitor only wished to help me with," he paused, looking uncomfortably down at his boots, "with my problem, I guess?"
"Yes," Cole replied in a far-away voice. He then walked up to Cullen, his fingers reaching out for the man's face as if something befuddled him. Cullen promptly stepped several panicked strides back at the bizarre behavior.
"She is confusing, though, when I heard her thoughts," Cole added, not taking his eyes off of the commander, "why would she want to help but then at the same time, want to 'drive you wild' by licking the scar on your lip? Which is it, help you or drive you wild like an animal? Surely, it can't be both at the same time."
Cullen's eyes widened, and Varric's snickering snort only deepened the crimson in the man's cheeks. Coughing loudly, Cullen looked away from Cole.
"That's uh...that's really something to ponder about in private."
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Waking up some time later, Colette found that she was back in her own room. Oh Maker, she groaned and buried her face in her mountain of stuffed pillows to stifle the sound of her embarrassment, did Cullen actually carry me here? Ugh, Varric is going to have a picnic with that writing fodder...
Something felt hard underneath the plush pillows, and when she reached underneath, the smooth texture of wood grain met her fingertips. Retrieving a small box, Colette opened it to see a lyrium dose set with a note resting on the top.
Cullen can't have this, so I took it from him.
Don't be mad, it is better you have it.
Dropping the piece of parchment onto the ground by her bed, Colette settled back into bed with the box underneath her pillow, rubbing her eyes as sleep took a hold of her once more.
Ah, Cole...thank you for helping me with this...wherever you are.
A thud woke Colette from her slumber, but her voice was stuck in her throat- - -Cullen's pale face looked petrified as she opened her eyes to find him near her. His pupils were now dilated until his eyes looked entirely black and primal in nature.
His voice sounded shaky and desperate when he spoke to her in a hissed whisper. "I'm sorry to wake you, I just came- - -" he caught sight of the wooden box he had been searching for and his mouth fell open in a slight gasp. "I knew you had it!"
In a moment almost too swift to see, Colette rolled off of the bed, cradling the box in her arms. Before Cullen could say anything else, she put a bit of her magic behind her physical power to throw the box out of the window and over the balcony where nothing but a rocky death awaited Cullen's last supply of lyrium.
"No!" He yelled, lunging in the direction of the window. "I need that! I need it, I can't- - -"
Colette got to him before he got to the balcony, wrapping her fingers around the sides of the man's neck.
Her hands erupted in bright green light without her consent, forcing agony into her body to such an extreme degree that it left her slack-jawed in paralyzed shock.
Cullen gawked at her as he watched Colette's small hands explode with power on his skin, her mouth agape as the luminance snaked through the veins of her face in tendrils of light. He could not piece together words to tell her to stop, could not fathom what could possibly be happening that would cause such a dangerously strange string of events. The pain pulled away from him like the receding tide of the ocean, and at first, the small relief that circulated through Cullen invigorated him. But that happiness was short-lived and replaced with terror as he looked at Colette. Another surge of agony hit them both, however, and the two of them crumbled onto the bed.
The look in her large eyes horrified him, but he knew deep down that he had seen an expression like that before.
It is the look a soldier gets when he is gutted through with a sword without him seeing it coming- - -it is the surprise of pain that the brain cannot comprehend.
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The feelings rushed into her, filling every muscle, every bone, nerve ending with terrible and agonizing waves of ripping pain. She gasped for air, clinging onto Cullen as the glow of her hands lit up the room in the eerie glow of magic.
This was worse than any other time she had intercepted the commander's lyrium withdrawal- - -far worse. Colette panicked, her body convulsing. The feather-soft bed was a welcomed comfort, but the woman could not think about that at the time; she could not think of anything save the distress that continued to ravish her body and soul.
Her mind blanked, and she felt as if she were about to pass out again at any time. But hearing Cullen struggling with the same thing made Colette's eyes shoot open as she tried to concentrate on something- - -on anything, that would help them get through this. Realization hit her suddenly and Colette began to speak:
"Hail, Holy Andraste, Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we c-cry- - -" Cullen gripped her hands as a surge of agony coursed through both their bodies. Colette clenched his strong arms in return, her hands moving up in rapidly until they found one another in an embrace.
Her hands shined brighter, taking in more of his pain into her. "To thee do we cry, poor banished children of the Maker- - -" She let out wail, her eyes cast upward but unseeing.
"S-stop it, you're killing yourself- - -" Cullen panted out a feeble protest, his words muffled as he buried his face in the woman's long hair. But, Colette continued to speak undeterred, determined to finish what she had started.
"- - -To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn, then, O most gracious Advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us, and after this, our exile, show unto us the will of the Maker. O clement, O loving, O sweet, Blessed Andraste."
Their labored breaths were in sync with one another's as their bodies stuck together in a cold sweat from the ordeal.
Cullen heard Colette's weak voice in his ears. "Pray for us, O holy bride of the Maker," she whispered.
He joined her in the last response of the prayer, closing his eyes as he did so. "That we may be made worthy of the promises of old."
It was over- - -the pain in his body had subsided, and a feeling of happiness flittered across the man's consciousness. They held on to each other as their breaths quietened, and Cullen felt fingers gripping his wide back in a way that made his thoughts shift. And before he knew what he was doing, he softly nuzzled the curve of Colette's neck. How long have I waited to hold her in my arms...how long have I denied myself this feeling?
The commander held on to his inquisitor for a moment longer, the embrace becoming something more than the need to survive this particular turmoil.
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When they broke apart from the embrace, she heard Cullen gasp softly.
"Maker's breath, this is why I didn't want you helping me with this." A weight lifted from the bed, and Colette knew he had gotten up to get something on the small side table in the corner of the room.
A warm, sticky wetness poured down from Colette's nose, covering the sides of her mouth, and her breath was still shallow in her chest. Shutting her eyes, she wished for all of it to end and end soon. The bed creaked noisily as Cullen sat back down beside her with a large, white cloth in his hands. She felt warm hands around the back of her neck as she was being moved to another position.
"Tilt your head back- - -Colette," Cullen said, his features softening and his voice lowering when he whispered her name.
With tender hands, he wiped away the blood that gushed out to cover Colette's mouth like a macabre Orlesian mask. He watched her close her eyes and drift off into an exhausted sleep, clearing his throat several times to keep the burning behind his eyes at bay.
Oh, My Lady...what have you done to yourself for me?
Colette's eyes opened just as a single ray from the dawn kissed her face. Bringing her arms up over her head, she stretched in cat-like fashion as she blinked to rid herself of early morning grogginess.
"Hey..."
Her heart stopped as she bolted upright in bed- - -Cullen was still in her sleeping quarters.
"We need to get you to Cole so he can reverse whatever...thing he gave you," he said softly, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I will not have you strain your body like that on my accord. This is my burden to carry, not yours."
Taking her by the hand once she was done dressing for the day, Cullen led them to the tavern where Cole usually resided on the upper floor, but he was not there. Sighing in defeat after they searched the area, Cullen suggested they grab a hearty breakfast to get their energy back from the long night before. Once that was done, they scoured the area, looking for Cole, only to find the boy in Cullen's office, reading books from the commander's small, personal library.
They talked for some time, and Cullen asked him to take back the magic he had imparted upon Colette.
"I cannot take back a gift that was so willingly given," Cole responded, his eyes large like grey orbs that peered out from underneath his wide-rimmed hat.
It was only after Colette promised that she wouldn't use her powers to the point where it effected her health did Cullen allow Cole to leave.
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"Well," Colette said, snapping her fingers to fill the awkward air that had now filled the room, "guess that's that, and I should be going."
"Wait," he called to her, hesitation filling his voice.
She turned when she felt Cullen's fingertips grace her arm lightly. "Yes?"
Cullen looked away, studying the nooks and crannies of the stone in his office. "I heard from Cole some...interesting things about you."
Colette raised a suspicious brow at the man in return. "About what, exactly?"
"Oh, nothing in particular," Cullen replied with a nervous chuckle, "Just your plot to 'drive me wild' as he put it."
Colette blushed immediately. "Haha, who knows what he could have possibly meant," she rambled, her eyes darting everywhere to keep from looking Cullen in the face. "I...yeah, I should go, don't worry- - -"
Colette squeaked in surprise as Cullen took her into his arms to kiss her, their lips colliding together in sudden force. Her body relaxed, melting into strong arms she had only experienced in her wildest dreams. Soft lips traveled over hers, and hands cupped the small of her back, pulling them closer to him until their bodies intertwined.
But before Colette could deepen the kiss further, Cullen pulled away suddenly. "I'm sorry," he breathed in her ear, the heat in his voice pressing against her skin and causing it to pebble. "That was...that was- - -"
"Wondrous," she supplied with a smile.
The stubble on Cullen's face sent shivers through the woman's body as it tickled her skin when he spoke into her ear.
"I know what it is you want to do...and to answer your thoughts, yes, it would in fact, drive me mad."
Colette felt her magic building in her body like a pressure that centered in her chest before it overflowed as tiny pulses of electrical energy that wove over every inch of her skin. Hearing the commander chuckling darkly told her he felt the changes to her body as well. She looked up at him once more, and his smirking grin sent her pulse racing.
Colette captured Cullen's upper lip gently with her teeth, using her tongue to trace the ridges and edges of his scar before their lips met once more. She opened her mouth to his with Cullen responding with a guttural moan that rumbled deep in his chest. His tongue flicked across her lips before mingling with Colette's, their warm breath mixing easily with one another's in a dance of passion and need.
Finally they broke apart, albeit somewhat reluctantly, so they could catch their breaths. Cullen brought a hand up, stroking Colette's cheek until his fingers tangled themselves in her long, wavy hair. The carnal heat of the moment dimmed, but Colette's heart jumped in her chest, nevertheless, at the look on the man's face.
She saw the warmth, the caring, and the gratefulness in his eyes as he turned his head to study her behind golden amber eyes. Breathing out a low laugh of happiness, Colette leaned forward slowly.
"One question about last night," Cullen whispered as their heads met in a gentle touch, "I thought you didn't pray?"
Colette smiled, and Cullen could see her eyes reflecting unshed tears like a mirror in the morning's pale sunlight.
"You are worth praying for."