Disclaimer; I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story. They are property of Bioware, who make excellent games, and need to hurry up with the fourth instalment of Dragon Age!

Obviously, this contains spoilers for Trespasser, so if you haven't played that yet, don't read on!

May the dread wolf take you….

Sweat beads ran down her forehead, causing stray hairs to be plastered to her face. Her eyes flew open violently, an audible gasp escaping her.

"Solas!"

Black dots flooded her vision. Struggling to contain her rising panic, she pushed herself into a sitting position, but stumbled and fell onto her side.

"Oh Maker! No! Lavellan, stop!"

Confusion raced through her. That was Cullen's voice, she was certain of it. What was he doing here? Where were her friends, and Solas? He'd walked into the Eluvian, if she hurried she could catch him. The blood pounded in her ears, as she continued to grow more stressed. This wasn't right. The ground was too soft, and why had she fallen over?

"Lavellan!"

His voice cut through the cloud of confusion. But not soon enough. As her vision cleared, she looked down to see the cause of her stumble. Her left arm was missing, just below her elbow. The hand that had been causing her such agony, the hand that had been marked by the orb. Muddiness ran wild through her head, as she tried to piece together what was going on.

"What happened?" She gazed emotionlessly at her missing limb, "Solas?"

Cullen nodded solemnly, though anger flared up in his eyes.

"We're not sure exactly what he did, but your arm turned to stone not long after they got you back. Then it just sort of…." He trailed off, concentrating on the correct phrasing, "…disappeared. That bastard did one good thing at least."

Her head whipped round to face him. He looked awful, like he hadn't slept for days. He was still in his formalwear trousers, but had removed the jacket and sash, in favour for a plain linen shirt. It was rumpled in a way that indicated clear restlessness. His hair had become unruly and the curls were threatening to run rampant, probably where he had been raking his hands through it so much, as he often did when he was either awkward or worried.

"At least it saved Cassandra from having to amputate it…" she murmured, before gasping as comprehension set in, "The others!?"

"All safe," his voice was raspy, no doubt from saying endless prayers, "and understandably shaken."

"How did we get back?"

"The way you came." When he didn't say anymore, she pressed him onwards with a frown, "Dorian carried you back. He's in the library, trying to work out whatever he can on Solas, or Fen'Harel...or whatever he's called. Cassandra didn't want to leave your side, but unfortunately not even a dear friend nearly dying can prevent the Exaulted Council from calling on the Divine apparently. And Varric, has been shooting whatever he can find…"

"Solas was behind all of this, the whole time…he gave Corypheus the orb in the first place!" She explored his face, "That's why he joined…not to help us…but to get his hands back on the orb…"

"More to keep an eye on your mark, I suspect," Cullen interrupted.

"And now he wants to destroy this world…." She couldn't believe the words still, as she said them.

Lavellan stared down at the stump, or more accurately, past it, to where her left hand would have been.

"The mark was killing you…"

He was only voicing what they both knew, but Lavellan could hear a change in his tone. A slight air of frustration.

"…you certainly played it down a lot."

Not frustration, concern. She turned to him, but he was staring intently at the edge of her bed. She reached out a hand to touch his arm, and slightly unbalanced herself again. Instantly he was out of his chair, and next to her on the bed, allowing himself to become a leaning post. She lightly caressed his rough knuckles with her fingertips, savouring the one hand she still had.

"I'm not going to die. The anchor is gone now. Please, don't worry that I will…"

She couldn't decipher whether it was a smile or a grimace she felt on his face, as he nuzzled closer to hers.

"I always worry about you."

She grinned, lightly pinching his thumb,

"Always so serious Commander…"

She stopped abruptly, as the glinting from his ring finger caught her attention. The light sparkled harshly on the golden band,

"My ring?!"

Panicking she again instinctively reached for her hand that was no longer there. Horror stricken she turned to Cullen, who had moved into a position where he was facing her now. His face was unreadable, as she cursed in despair and frustration at her loss.

"Blasted, damnation! My bloody ring!"

"You mean this ring?"

She nearly squeaked in response, as he dug into his pocket and retrieved her wedding ring. Ever so gently he took her right hand, and placed the band onto her ring finger.

"I may have retrieved it from your hand as soon as you got back, just for safe keeping…"

Tears brimmed in her eyes, blurring her vision. She finally thought about it all, everything that had happened to her, since being found by the Inquisition members to now. Clarity seemed to hit her like a slap across the face, and burning tears streamed silently down her face. Cullen watched in silent horror as her face crumpled, and she began shaking with violent sobs. Immediately he reached for her, drawing her in close and burying her face into his neck. They stayed that way for what seemed an age, until finally, she seemed to subdue. Slowly raising her head away from his chest, she stared at him with sad, red eyes.

'I never asked for any of this…'

It was barely a whisper, but Cullen felt his heart rip in two. He had never seen her breakdown before; this woman, the woman he loved. The one who had been through so much, saved so many and had never given up, was asking for him to save her now. And he didn't know how. Everything that had been thrust upon her as a result of the anchor, she had dealt with, never asking for anything, or refusing to do whatever it took. His jawline hardened, as he took Lavellan's face between his hands.

"I know, but once again you have done the hardest, and not to mention most impossible part of surviving." He thumbed away a stray tear from her cheek, before tilting his forehead to touch hers, and gently added, "I love you, Mrs Rutherford."

"Aren't you going to scold me for not dodging fireballs? Or tell me that I should have had a shield to block with, Commander?" He could feel her cheeks twinge against his, as a smile quirked ever so lightly at the edges of her mouth. Her face suddenly snapped away from his, eyes wide and mouth open in shock.

"Wait! What did you just say?!"

Cullen feigned ignorance, frowning at her.

"You survived?"

She rolled her eyes at his act.

"Not that, the other part!"

"I love you?"

Her eyes narrowed as she nudged her shoulder into him,

"The other part!"

"Oh, you mean…" he leaned in closer to her, "Mrs Rutherford." He breathed the words, smiling at the way they felt on his lips.

She sighed, closing her eyes, as if she were savouring the sound.

"Say it again."

"Mrs Rutherford," he paused, "I mean, I had hoped to use them for the first time in an, er, well…. a different moment….Maker's Breath, that sounds….I didn't mean to insinuate…"

Her lips silenced him, reminding him of their first kiss atop the Skyhold walls,

"Hush you fool," she smiled, before planting her lips back onto his.

Reluctantly she finally pulled her lips apart from his,

"Now as much as I would love to spend all day in bed with you," she winked, relishing that after two years, he still blushed, "but I think I'll require your help getting ready to sort out Ferelden and Orlais…"

Then she went off to be a BAMF and told them all where to stick it! Welp, Trespasser was an emotional ride! I hope you enjoyed!