Hot...
Cold...
...Singing
Before this trip, Ellana was insistent that the Fallow Mire was her least favorite place to journey to for any reason, but this...she felt sick.
Emprise du Lion could be considered beautiful, she was certain, but the excessive quantities of red lyrium tainted it. Not only did it ruin the view, it also made Ellana certain she was going to catch her death. The heat radiating from the red lyrium would have been welcome if she was oblivious to the effects it could cause people. Though, once they wandered far enough to get away from the heat for a moment, the bitter cold was quick to seep down to their bones. Surely it wasn't healthy to put their bodies through such changes constantly and so quickly.
And then there was the singing.
Varric hadn't lied when he told her about the red lyrium back when she first asked about it in Haven. It almost seemed like a lifetime ago. Back when all they were concerned about was closing the Breach. Back before they knew about Corypheus.
Back when life seemed just a little bit easier.
But that wasn't the point right now. The red lyrium was singing and it made her stomach turn. Maybe some could find it an attractive and alluring song, maybe that was how some Templars were convinced to take it without complaint, but to her it felt wrong; she knew better. Ellana knew what it could do, what it had already done to people, and to listen to it constantly as they traveled...she wasn't sure she could take much more of it.
Was she sensitive to it because she was a mage? She thought she heard somewhere that raw lyrium could kill a mage, but her thoughts were too muddled to be certain. Why couldn't she think straight?
She had no reason to be around lyrium in her clan let alone the red lyrium in this place. That or it was just her. Yes, Varric mentioned his discomfort around the stuff, but Iron Bull seemed pleased just to be killing things, and Cassandra was keeping a straight face, so either her companions were not as effected, or they were keeping their misery to themselves. She wished they would share if they were feeling it, too.
Misery loves company, after all.
Clearing out Suledin Keep took more out of her than she expected-not that fighting ogres and a demon helped much-and she simply could not remain in this. Ellana knew there were things that still needed her attention, rifts that still needed to be sealed, but she could endure it no longer. Time away would do her good. She could have troops stay and keep people safe while she left to recuperate, but to stay any longer...
"You don't look well, boss."
She didn't doubt Bull's statement. She probably looked like something Corypheus' dragon would cough up.
"We need to...go back to Skyhold."
"There is still a lot of work to be-"
"I know!" she shouted, cutting Cassandra off. She felt bad about her outburst, trying to avoid needless confrontation when possible, but she just couldn't handle this any longer. "I know..."
A proper attempt to explain would have followed, but her stomach decided at that moment to finally betray her as she retched on the ground beside her. At least no one would complain about why she wanted to go back now.
In the time it took to return to Skyhold from Emprise du Lion, Ellana refused any and all food offered to her. Not only did she fear that it wouldn't stay down, but her appetite simply would not return. Better to not eat and have nothing to empty from her stomach when there was no hope of keeping it down in the first place. Sleep sounded much better anyway. Even when they returned all she could bring herself to do was sleep, and most left her without interruption for a few days, word traveling around her inner circle that she was unwell. The peace might have helped if her sleep wasn't plagued by nightmares of the constant singing.
Why wouldn't the singing in her head stop?
Jolting up with a start, Ellana found herself shivering and cold, but sweat coated her skin. Everything felt too hot and cold at the same time, she swore she was dying, and she rushed to a basin and heaved as only bile came from her unsettled and empty stomach. It wasn't until her body calmed that she curled up in a corner on the floor and cried.
When the sun finally peeked over the mountains, she was still curled in on herself, her tears long dried up, leaving her eyes red and slightly swollen. She couldn't stay like this. Someone would come looking for her sooner or later. They couldn't see her like this...not that she didn't already look a horrid mess. Her skin grew pale, and she was losing weight quickly from the stress her body was going through, and the fact that she wasn't eating... Why was she so weak to endure this? She had to be stronger than this, not only for herself but for the rest of the Inquisition. How would they feel to see her a wreck like this? Unfortunately, this wasn't something she could just ignore or put on a cold face and banish. It honestly felt like she was dying.
And Cullen looked at her as though she might break; it was frustrating. That wasn't fair to be frustrated with him, he wasn't the only one, but it hurt more to have him see her as weak when he had his own ailments to-
She had to talk to Cullen.
Standing up quickly caused her vision to black out for a second while she struggled to keep her balance. Ellana quickly washed up once she righted herself, hoping to look at least somewhat presentable since looking like death slightly warmed over would do no favors for morale in Skyhold.
Once dressed, she quickly made her way through the main hall, ignoring and making no eye contact with any who might wish to strike up a conversation with her. This was important. It could not wait for her to be overly polite to all who wished to stop and have a chat. Later, maybe, they could have her time, but right now she needed to speak to her Commander.
She didn't bother knocking-so few did-and noticed he was having a meeting. Ellana could only pray that it would be short.
Ten minutes passed and it seemed that the meeting was wrapping up. Everyone else filed out of the office, giving her a polite nod as they passed. She tried to return the gesture, but it only unsettled her stomach further, so she settled for a small smile, even if a bit strained. Not that she thought they would blame her. Surely they saw how much of a mess she was.
Once they were gone, she found herself struggling for the words to ask what she came to question Cullen about.
"Inquisitor."
"...Cullen."
The use of her title was a bit of an annoyance while she felt so awful and was not here for official business, but she could hardly blame him. Who knew when she would be there for actual Inquisition concerns and not a personal visit?
"You're... Are you feeling any better?" It looked like he regretted asking the question immediately after asking it.
"Do I look that awful?" she asked, knowing that he hadn't meant it that way.
"Wh-what? No...that's not..."
"You're an awful liar, but to answer your question...not exactly, no. I have a question for you, though. Which is why I am here." How to ask such a thing? Maybe just blurting it out? "What do your withdrawal symptoms feel like exactly?"
Seeing the guarded look on his face made her wish she could take it back, but she had to know.
"Why are you asking me this?"
He wasn't happy with the question, that much she could tell, but it wasn't without cause. She tried forming the words to properly explain herself but the chills started again. Wrapping her arms around herself to try and keep her shaking under control, Ellana looked up at him with pleading eyes. "I...don't think it's entirely the same as what I'm feeling...but maybe similar...? I just wanted to know..." Pausing for a brief moment, she couldn't stop her next words. "Death would be a mercy."
Cullen quickly crossed the room and brought her into his arms. He was concerned. She caused him to worry, and she wished she hadn't, but she wasn't well. She also couldn't stop shaking. Why was it so cold?
And she heard the singing again.
Struggling to get free from his hold, she threw open the office door once she pulled away and heaved on the ground next to it. Not that there was anything there to come up anyway. Tears pricked at her eyes. Why wouldn't it stop?
"Ellana?"
A hand rested on her back, and she took in a shuddering breath before straightening herself to stand straight again. She needed to be strong. She needed to get through this. It would pass. It had to pass.
"Y-yes?" she croaked.
Before saying anything else, Cullen led her back inside his office. Probably to keep people from getting overly curious about the state of the Inquisitor. Not that there weren't whispers about her health around Skyhold as it was, but most, thankfully, just assumed she caught a bad cold while out in the frigid camps before she returned to Skyhold.
"What is wrong?" he asked while turning to face her directly, his hands gently gripping her arms.
"Everything," she groaned. Though, the mage supposed that wasn't exactly helpful information. Nothing could be done if she didn't give details. "I...I can't eat, nothing stays down. Everything hurts. It gets hot then cold, then hot again, and the singing won't stop," she nearly sobbed. It sounded pathetic to her own ears, but there was little she could do about that.
"Singing?"
"Varric said...th-the red lyrium...it sings...and it does... There was so much of it, Cullen. It was everywhere in Emprise du Lion, and I can't...I can't make it stop."
Once again she was embraced, his tight hold on her thankfully did not cause the same reaction as earlier. Standing there in silence, Ellana wondered if she scared him. Hell, she scared herself. Being weak like this...it wasn't something she wanted. She could take care of herself in most situations, and could be miraculously stubborn when the time called for it, but now? Now she wondered why she was the only one effected by the trip so badly, even with the others not being mages. Surely they must have had some side-effects. Would she ever be able to feel better?
"Have you never been exposed to dilluted lyrium before?"
The question was quiet, but she heard him without trouble. Most would probably think it odd to ask. Who in all of Thedas who fought for their lives hadn't been exposed to a lyrium potion at one point or another? Though, she happened to be those few who hadn't. "Not...like that." It was true. There was little to no need for it among her clan. The Keeper and herself never used so much magic at once that they drained all of their power and needed more, and reaching the Fade wasn't difficult with enough concentration, so there was no use for it. "Only the small amounts I've...been around since the Conclave, once in a while a larger amount when we find a source of red lyrium to destroy, and even that is unsettling, but...not like that," she repeated. "Never like that... And I've never used it personally."
His hold on her tightened slightly before he buried his face in her neck.
"It is...similar. What you describe and the...withdrawals. I wish you did not have to endure this."
She felt like simply existing was a struggle with the toll everything was taking on her body, but she also felt guilty that she was standing there, complaining of the pain she was going through when Cullen's own was surely far worse. How could she even think to compare the two?
"I'm sorry...you probably have it worse and-"
"Don't. Don't apologize," he demanded. "You're unwell. The differences in these symptoms...cannot be compared. Everyone's body is different and has different tolerances. You're not even used to lyrium. You were overexposed to it, and even a weak lyrium potion would likely make you briefly sick if you've never used it, but that... Mages die from touching raw lyrium, but this blighted version... I read the reports. Raw red lyrium in such quantities...but I didn't think- Maker, I didn't think..."
"It's not your-"
"Do not tell me it is not my fault. Your safety is not only supposed to be my concern as a commander, but...if I were to lose you..."
"Cullen..."
This seemed to be taking a toll on him, and to argue that she should apologize for her complaints when he was often in pain would only cause him to insist that she had every right to complain about how sick she felt, so she held her tongue. Maybe it was best that he had some understanding about her situation now and understood what was wrong with her, and she now had a hint of his suffering as well.
How could he endure this pain so long and keep quiet?
She wanted to ask, but she couldn't bring herself to speak the words. Would he try to brush off giving a direct answer like he had when she asked for the details of his symptoms? If so, she would only feel guilty in asking. He would tell her when he was comfortable-if he ever was-until then all she could do was offer what support he would accept.
Ellana wanted to stand there and just hold him and be held, but she knew sooner or later someone would come looking for one of them. Reluctantly pulling away, she stared down at her hands and wrung them together. At least this way she could try hiding some of her shaking.
"You should at least try to eat, as futile as asking you to do so might be," he said while tilting her head up. "I pray that this will pass quickly for you."
He was right. It was pointless to try convincing her to eat when she was certain nothing would stay down. Why cause herself more problems? Though, maybe she could make a small compromise. "Maybe...I can manage some broth. That would be something?"
The small smile she pulled from him was worth the dread she had at following through with the suggestion. At least it would be liquid. That would be easier to deal with. She couldn't just lie about it either. Not when he looked relieved at hearing she would try.
Cullen pressed a light kiss to her forehead before guiding her toward the door.
"Go rest. I will have someone send for something for you, so you do not have to make an unnecessary trip."
"Thank you."
"You are welcome."
Feeling a little better emotionally-it was amazing what support and understanding could do for a person-Ellana started her trek back toward her room.