Basically, combine a tumblr post talking about how the Inquisitor and their LI share a bed without sleeping together for a while, and my need to write an asexual character (because I've only ever seen a couple of stories featuring them and they've all been sex-repulsed) and you get this very fluffy bit. This is also an exercise in stretching comfort zones because I avoid touching the physical parts of romance with a ten-foot pole.
Many thanks to mudbloodedslytherin for being an awesome beta and sounding board.
Running, running, keep running. She couldn't stop. They were so close, the spiders. They were going to take her, swallow her whole. She was going to be stuck in this Creator's-forsaken place forever.
Clicking, a sharp, painful sound that brought to mind too many legs and eyes and pain. She couldn't let them catch her.
Come on! she heard someone call. Just a bit farther! Her chest hurt, ached from lack of air. Why couldn't she breathe? Why were her legs so slow? She had to… keep… going…
No matter how hard she pushed herself, it was never enough. The slope she was climbing always got higher, the end never got closer, and the spiders were always closing in. She risked a glance behind her and saw eight huge eyes staring back at her. She stumbled, fell, couldn't catch herself in time. She rolled over, to see two huge pincers coming for her.
Nyra's eyes flew open as she shot up in bed. Gasping heavily, the panic in her mind clouded her thoughts for a few moments before she realized where she was. Slowly, as her heartbeat steadied, she eased herself back down into the mountain of pillows at her headboard.
"Just a dream," she murmured. "Just a dream."
Not a dream. A memory. She tried to ignore the annoying hiss in her ear. That damn Nightmare had repressed those memories of her first time in the Fade. Now that it was dead, there was nothing keeping them away. She couldn't remember if she even had a peaceful night's rest since Adamant. Probably not. No matter what she did, how hard she tried to tire herself out with training and work, it never was enough to keep the nightmares at bay for more than a few hours.
The loneliness made it worse. Nyra often enjoyed her solitude, but at night it became her enemy. The darkness closing in, the hushed quiet of Skyhold, it was too easy for her mind to find the demon in every corner and shadow.
I can't be alone, she thought desperately, clutching the sheets. Untangling them from her legs, she threw them at the foot of her bed and scrambled off one of the sides. But it's the middle of the night, no one's up at this hour. As she paced, a flicker of light at her window caught her eye, and she looked over to see that apparently there was someone still awake in Skyhold.
Of course the Commander wasn't asleep.
Throwing a cloak over her sleeping shift, Nyra padded down the stairs and through the Great Hall, using Solas' atrium as a shortcut to the Commander's tower. She didn't care that most of the shemlen would consider this entirely inappropriate and that there would likely be Void to pay in the morning. She needed something solid, real, tangible. And if her vhenan was the only option, she'd take the gossip and rumors. Anything was better than the stifling loneliness waiting back in her room.
Still, she hesitated at the door. Her vhenan he might be, but he was still struggling with his own nightmares. Her hand hovered a few inches over the door. He didn't need her burdens.
But to go back to her room, alone…
Maybe she could sneak into the Tavern and steal enough ale to put her out?
Before she could turn around, the door swung open and she was staring up at Cullen.
"Ah…" she stuttered. "Ah… hello."
"Is everything all right?" he asked, brow furrowing in concern.
"Y-yes. Everything's fine," Nyra said. Her right hand began rubbing up and down her left arm, and her eyes refused to look anywhere in Cullen's direction.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "You don't usually make trips in the middle of the night."
Her hand moved up and down faster. "I… I couldn't sleep," she admitted. "I noticed you were up."
He gazed at her for a moment, taking in her mess of hair and thin cloak, before he smiled warmly at her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "Would you like to come in?"
"Am I bothering you?" she noticed he wasn't wearing his usual suit of armor. Perhaps she had woken him up.
"Not at all. I was having difficulty sleeping as well, so I came down to try to finish a few reports."
"No rest for the wicked, I suppose," Nyra said.
Cullen chuckled. "I'm afraid not. What about you? Why are you awake so late?" He moved over to his desk, poured a cup from the kettle, and handed it to her.
Nyra sipped gratefully. "Couldn't sleep," she said, shrugging.
"Nightmares?" Cullen asked.
Nyra shrugged again, looking down at her cup instead of him. "Nothing so bad as yours, I'm sure."
She focused on her tea until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She started, looking up to see him staring at her, obviously concerned.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly.
"No," she confessed, voice barely above a whisper. "I just can't be alone right now." As she said it, she turned away to look out the window instead. I shouldn't be here. He shouldn't have to listen to this. This is selfish. He had enough of his own problems weighing on his shoulders, he didn't need hers too. Why are you doing this?
She barely noticed when he gently pulled the cup away from her hands, but let out a small noise of surprise when he pulled her into a tight hug. His entire body enveloped her, a warm cocoon of safety. He bent down to rest his chin on the top of her head, rubbing her back with one hand. Slowly, she brought her arms up to wrap around his waist, holding him tight. She turned her face into his chest, breathing deeply, appreciating the clean smell of soap coming from his tunic.
"Don't ever hesitate to come to me," he murmured into her hair. "You've helped me, more than I think you know. I can help carry your burdens as well."
Tears pricked Nyra's eyes, and she burrowed her face further into his shirt, trying to hide them. "It helps not to be alone," she said. "The memories aren't as strong."
"Come to me whenever you need me," he said. "I always have time for you."
"I don't want to bother you," she said. "You're so busy with the Inquisition, training all the recruits, I don't -"
"Nyra," Cullen said, sighing in exasperation. "You're not bothering me. Maker's breath, you always stop whatever you're doing when I come to you, and you're busier than I." He took her chin in one hand and stroked it, pulling her head up to look him in the eyes. "You never are, and never will be, a bother to me."
"You say that now," Nyra said.
"And I will keep on saying it until you believe me," he replied, bending forward to kiss her forehead. "For however long I have to. Whatever you need me to do, whatever you need me to be, I'll do it. I promise."
Creators. Nyra was grateful he was holding her up, as she went weak kneed. She wasn't sure what to say in reply, but it didn't matter, because at that moment she involuntarily let out a huge yawn, one that stretched her jaw wide. Glancing out the window, she saw that it was still fairly dark out. "For now, I think I need to go to bed. As do you," she added, poking his chest. "It wouldn't do for our Commander to fall asleep during the war meeting tomorrow."
"I suppose not," he conceded. "Are you leaving then?"
She should. If she left now, no one might ever know she was there. Or, at least, it might not be considered significant enough for gossip. However, the thought of returning to her empty chambers alone was even less appealing at the moment.
Cullen saw her reluctance. "Do you want to stay here for the night?" he asked.
She glanced back at him. "Do you mind?"
"My bed's too big for just me," he said with a shrug. "It'd be nice to have some company."
"And what about the rumors?" she asked. "You know that people will talk, no matter what we say."
"If it doesn't bother you, then I don't care," he said.
"I don't like people discussing my personal life, but…" she sighed, "I like the idea of sleeping alone even less than that."
"Then after you, my lady," he said, pulling away enough to gesture to his ladder.
A few minutes later, as Nyra was settling down, Cullen lay down behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his chest pressed into her back.
"Creators, aren't you hot?" she asked, turning her neck around in an attempt to look at him (which failed and only served to make her neck hurt). "I'm only in my shift and I can barely stand it, how can you be in breaches and a tunic?"
"I'm fine, don't worry," Cullen said, kissing the back of her head. "I'm more comfortable this way."
"Humans. I'll never understand how you all don't burst into flames one of these days," she said, chuckling slightly. She moved her head back, and soon she was drifting off to a more peaceful sleep than she had in weeks, his strong arms her security.
Nyra didn't spend her nights in her chambers after that. At first, she had tried, but every night the idea of nightmares and the approaching darkness made her eventually hurry to Cullen's side, drawing him away from his paperwork into bed. Once she was in his arms, it was easier to fall asleep. Soon enough, she didn't even consider another option; she simply waited until everyone else was already in bed.
Quite often the nightmares still came for her. Cullen would quickly wake and help her gain her bearings again. He would wrap her in his arms and whisper soothing words into her ear, gently rubbing her back as the tremors abated and her breathing steadied. When his nightmares came, Nyra did the same for him.
It didn't make the nights go by easily, but it helped make them bearable. To know that there was another's arms to be held in, secure and safe, and that the demons wouldn't overtake them that night, was more comfort than either had had in a while. It was better than Nyra had ever hoped she could have, and she savored every night.
However, as she knew would happen, people started spreading rumors. Some of the Inner Circle, like Blackwall, Cassandra, and Vivienne, didn't even mention it (for which she was grateful). Solas merely gave her a knowing look when she passed through his atrium. Varric was similar, only going so far as to give her a playful wink when she walked by his usual haunt towards Cullen's tower.
Naturally, when she went out for drinks, Sera was crude, while Iron Bull made enough jokes to have half the tavern blushing into their ales (and Nyra already out the door in embarrassment and shock). Cole, probably the only one that knew and believed the truth, simply said, "He's calmer now," and left it at that.
The one person she was waiting for, however, didn't bring it up for half a month, and it was driving Nyra insane. On the one hand, it was certainly not a conversation she was excited to have. On the other hand, she knew it was coming and wanted to get it over with. Because it was Dorian. However, it wasn't quite the conversation she expected.
"Do you have that book on the history of the Arcane Warriors for me yet?" Dorian asked, flipping through the next page of his research book.
Nyra looked up from her own, comfortably settled on her own couch in his little corner of the library. "It's in my bag, somewhere," she said. "Feel free to look for it."
He sighed dramatically, closing his book with an emphatic snap. "Fine," he sighed again. "If I must do everything."
Nyra chuckled, before turning back to her own book. "Careful," she said, hearing the slight tinkle of glass as he rummaged around the bag. "You break anything and you'll be the one explaining to Dagna why I need so more potion bottles so soon."
"What is this?" she heard him ask.
Nyra looked up and froze as she realized he was holding a bottle of potion boldly labeled Pregnancy Potion. "Oh, bloody Creators, put that back before someone sees, Dorian!" she hissed, shooting up out of the couch to snatch it from his hands and shove it into her bag again. Rummaging through it herself, she found the book and pushed it into his chest. "There," she said, huffing. Marching back down to her couch, she put the book in front of her face and hoped it hid the red creeping up her ears.
"Why was that in your bag?" Dorian asked.
Nyra sighed, her book falling in her lap. She knew she wasn't going to get peace until she explained. "I think Leliana or Josephine put it on my desk. I was meaning to throw it over the ramparts of Skyhold, but I forgot to dispose of it before coming here."
"Not to sound ignorant," Dorian started, "but don't you want to take that potion?"
"Only if I was trying to keep myself from becoming pregnant," Nyra replied.
Dorian's eyes widened. "You can't be serious. We're in the middle of a war, you can't risk that! I'm happy for you two, as much as everyone else is, but for the love of Andraste, you can't risk such a thing right now!"
Nyra's brow knit in confusion, before realizing what he meant. "Creators," she muttered. "Perhaps I need to clarify: I would only be needing to take the potion if there was a risk of me becoming pregnant." At Dorian's raised eyebrow, she added, "Cullen and I - no matter what everyone else is saying - are only sleeping together."
"I know -" Dorian started, still looking nonplussed.
"Literally. Only sleeping. That's it. Nothing more," Nyra said, leaning forward slightly towards Dorian's chair.
He snorted. "You can't honestly expect me to believe that. You and Cullen in the same bed for the past two weeks and all you've done is sleep?"
"Whether or not you chose to believe me, it is the truth," Nyra said. "Which is why that bloody potion isn't necessary."
"I don't think I could have done that," Dorian said. "Please, a man like that in my bed? It wouldn't have been two hours before I had him."
"Well, I'm not you, Dorian," Nyra said. "And neither is Cullen."
"Yes, but how do you do it? Just ignore it?" he asked. "It must drive you crazy to have him so near and not do anything. And him? That Templar training must instill more willpower than I realized."
"What in Mythal's name are you on about?" Nyra asked. "And will you keep your voice down? I don't need the entirety of Skyhold hearing about my private life."
"You cannot be sleeping beside a man - especially your man - and not want him!" Dorian insisted, thankfully lowering his voice down to a whisper. "It's not even that you aren't interested, if your daily trips to the battlements are anything to go by. He has obviously fallen madly in love with you, so I don't see why you would hesitate."
"It's not - I don't," Nyra mumbled. "Dorian." She huffed out a frustrated breath, rubbing her temple. "I will explain this to you once, and then you will drop the subject forever: my personal life, involving Cullen, is between myself and him only. If I need your advice, I will come to you, but otherwise I ask you to keep out of it. Despite your assumptions, I am perfectly comfortable sleeping by him without anything happening." She breathed, trying to collect herself. "While I appreciate the concern behind this, you don't need to worry. Cullen and I have this in hand. Now if you'll excuse me," she said, standing up and grabbing her bag, "I have a potion bottle to dispose of."
As she threw the bottle over the side of Skyhold and watched it crash and break against the mountain rock, she did consider what Dorian was saying. Mostly when he had been talking about "wanting" Cullen.
Just because she was fine didn't mean that Cullen was. She had forgotten that most people (which probably included Cullen) weren't quite like her when it came to sex. And if she was making him uncomfortable, becoming a distraction so that he couldn't sleep, she'd have to do something to fix that.
That moment was not the right time to ask him, though. She needed a stretch where she knew they wouldn't be interrupted.
She'd have to wait until that night.
"Does this bother you?" she asked quietly, after they had both settled in for the night. Her voice was calm, her expression politely interested, but inside her nerves were a writhing mess.
"Hmmm?" he murmured, already drifting to sleep.
Nyra sat up a little, propping herself on her elbow. "This. Me being here. Does this bother you?"
"Why would it bother me?" he asked, his hand coming over to stroke her shoulder.
"People seem to be under the impression that the two of us are unable to keep our hands off each other. I realized - I didn't think about that. Before, I mean. Does this make you uncomfortable? Should I go back to my own bed?" She scratched at her head irritably, her skin prickling in embarrassment.
"What? No! Why would you think that?" he asked, suddenly more awake. He sat up as well, mirroring her position, still stroking her arm gently. Slowly, he pulled her into his embrace, rubbing circles on her back. Nyra burrowed her face into his chest for a moment, before moving back enough to speak clearly.
"I don't…. This doesn't…." She began muttering incoherently, unable to find the proper words. You're a grown elf, it shouldn't be this difficult. She sighed, trying to start again. "From what I understand, when most people are doing this - sleeping in the same bed, I mean - the proximity affects them. I don't - I can't - but I was wondering if this was…. Do you need me to leave?"
Cullen stared at her for a few moments, while she worried her lip in nervousness. Say something, please. Then he smiled. It was a wonderful, caring smile, and Nyra felt herself fall in love with him a little more.
"You're worried I might be…" He gestured vaguely in the air with his hand, and Nyra nodded. "I will admit, occasionally I have had to control myself, but I would never, never do anything unless you were willing as well. And since you only ever wanted me to hold you, that was all I ever did. Waking up, not being alone, has been wonderful. It's been lonely by myself, I'm glad you're here." He looked down, considering her. "If you don't mind me asking, you said you can't. What does that mean?"
Nyra shrugged slightly. "It's not that the idea repulses me, really. It's simply, I don't ever need to. I forgot most people aren't like that, and when I remembered I realized we probably should talk about that. I like this, just as it is, but if this is putting you in an awkward position or if you'd prefer to sleep alone, I'll understand. My comfort isn't the only thing we need to worry about."
He gently kissed the top of her head. "This is perfect. If this is all you want, I'll take it."
"One day, I think I will want more," Nyra said. "But for now, I like what we have."
"So do I," he said, pressing another kiss in her hair.
"I love you," she said.
"And I love you," he replied, pulling her closer to him.
Nyra buried her face in his chest, reveling in the warmth and security she felt. She breathed in his scent - a sharp metallic tang mixed with something sweet and warm that could only be described as him.
Her nightmares came again that night, the one filled with memories of red and singing and the sight of Leliana's body riddled with arrows, crumpled on the floor. Later, as Cullen soothed her, his gentle humming pressing out the traces of darkness in her mind, Nyra thanked the Creators - whichever ones cared - for sending him to her.
Ar lath, ma vhenan. She thought, as she drifted into more peaceful slumber. Ar lath, bellanaris.
Ar lath, ma vhenan, bellanaris - I love you, my heart, forever.
I pretty much hated everyone by the end, because trying to figure out how comfortable each character would be talking about this and keeping it in character was murder. Just in case anyone's wondering, Nyra is a sex-positive asexual.
If y'all have any constructive criticism to help me out and improve, it would be appreciated so very much.