Accidents Happen

This is based on a wonderful little headcanon I thought of a while ago, that I just had to write. It takes place shortly after Madelyn and the Inquisition return from the Western Approach (after Adamant), not too long before Madelyn and Cullen get together.

She didn't mean to smash Cullen right in the face, it just… happened.

Madelyn had trained with a sword and shield for almost her entire life. After so long, a simple shield bash was instinctual, an impulse. She'd done it a million times before, and never once flinched or hesitated.

But now she could only stare in horror at what she'd done.

She didn't realize exactly what happened until she heard Cullen grunt when her shield connected with his face. By then it was too late, the force of her blow snapping his head back, his body following as he stumbled into the fenced edge of the sparring ring. Silence fell over the spectators that had been watching them spar, and Madelyn felt her stomach drop, her heart skipping a beat.

Placing her shield and practice sword on the ground, she cautiously stepped towards Cullen, reaching for him as he steadied himself. At the last moment she pulled her hands back towards her body, frowning.

"Are you all right?" she asked. Cullen grunted again, covering his nose with his hand in an attempt to staunch the blood dripping from his face. An even larger crowd began to form around the sparring ring, whispers starting to spread amongst the spectators. Madelyn ignored them, too focused on assessing Cullen's injury. "Let me see."

"I'm fine," he muttered, waving her away.

"You're not fine, you're bleeding," she shot back. "Now let me see." With a huff, he lowered his hand from his face, revealing the source of the blood flow. Her shield bash had completely crushed his nose, leaving it crooked and cut open.

Maker, she'd ruined his perfectly good and handsome nose.

Her heart thumped faster in her chest, and she furrowed her brow—she couldn't let her thoughts wander to such places when he was injured. "It's probably broken," she stated, examining his nose more closely, then calling out to the crowd around them. "Someone get us a healer!"

"I don't need a healer," Cullen protested. "A healing potion will do."

She amended her orders, and in an instant three men scurried away in search of a healing potion. Turning her attention back to the man before her, she narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips.

"If the potion doesn't work, you're going to the infirmary," Madelyn stated firmly.

Cullen let out a breathy laugh. "If you say so, Inquisitor."

He stared at her, his warm brown eyes unwavering from hers. She couldn't help but return his gaze, until she realized just what she was doing. She tore her eyes from his, feeling a tinge of warmth in her cheeks, and quickly glanced over the rest of him to make sure he wasn't injured elsewhere. She assessed the state of his face again, and that's when she noticed it… he was smiling.

"Commander… are you… are you smiling?" she asked incredulously, wondering how anyone could smile in such a situation.

He stared at her a moment longer before he drew his brows together, as if he didn't even hear her. "What?" he asked, blood dripping onto his shirt. Cullen quickly brought his hand to his face again, attempting to stop the bleeding. He opened and closed his mouth, struggling for the right words. "I was… uh, smiling, that is. That was a very nice hit."

Madelyn huffed, her lips curling into a smile. She'd broken his nose and he was complimenting her. "Thank you."

"Inquisitor!"

Both she and Cullen turned towards the voice, one of the men having brought back a healing potion. Grimacing, Cullen drank the potion, then passing the empty vial back to the soldier that had brought it.

"Let me see it now," Madelyn murmured, leaning closer to him to inspect his nose. He obeyed, holding his head steady as she examined him.

"I think it's better. I can't tell for sure with all the blood, but a healer would be able to confirm it."

Cullen understood the meaning behind her words, and this time he didn't protest the necessity of a healer. Madelyn told the remaining spectators to get back to work before she and Cullen made the short journey to the infirmary.

The healer on duty was busy with another patient, so they sat on an empty cot as they waited. The silence between them was welcomed and comfortable, and yet… there was something else lingering there. Something had been growing between them for some time, but ever since Cullen had expressed just how worried he had been when she disappeared into the Fade at Adamant, it had grown ever more present. It wasn't hard to disregard her feelings during normal day-to-day activities, but when they were alone, they were always on the back of her mind. Even in that moment, she was hyperaware of his presence. He was staring at her again, she could feel it, but she didn't dare meet his gaze, her heart thumping away in her chest. She swallowed hard, finally mustering up the courage to face him, and the moment he caught her looking back, his eyes fell to the floor.

More silence passed between them, and then Cullen suddenly sat up straighter on the cot, pulling his bloodstained shirt over his head in one swift motion. Madelyn's stomach flipped at the sight of him shirtless, her eyes sweeping over every muscle, scar, and strand of dark blond hair until her attention was finally drawn back to his shirt. Balling it up in his hand, he began to blindly wipe at the dried blood on his face.

Madelyn placed her hand over his, his motions stilling at her touch. "Let me," she breathed, and he dropped the shirt from his face, nodding as his gaze burned into hers. She stood up and grabbed a small basin of water and a clean cloth, then returning to her seat at his side.

Starting with his nose, she gently ran the wet cloth over the contours of his face in long, slow strokes, rinsing the cloth as needed. Cullen watched her as she worked, but she remained focused on her task, pretending not to feel the warmth blooming in her chest at the way he relaxed under her care. Eventually his eyes fluttered closed, his shoulders and posture slumping as he leaned the slightest bit closer, offering her his neck so she could get to the dried blood that had dripped there and on the top of his chest.

Little by little she washed it all away, until the only part of him that was still stained with blood was his lips. Madelyn had purposefully avoided them, the simple act of wiping his mouth seeming too intimate despite the layer of cloth between her fingertips and his lips. The fact that she wanted to experience that intimacy was what made her avoid his lips. But, she couldn't just leave them bloody, so she rinsed the cloth one last time and set her mind to getting them clean.

She hesitated before the cloth met his lips, long enough for Cullen to flicker open his eyes. Before she could get lost in his gaze, Madelyn quickly looked to his mouth, finally getting on with her intended task. She could feel his breath rush out of his nose as she softly slid the wet cloth over his mouth, the puff of air tickling the back of her hand. The moment she finished dragging the cloth down over Cullen's stubbled chin and off his face, he inhaled sharply, his mouth parting. Madelyn was mesmerized by those scarred lips; she could only stare as a war waged inside her head, her mind racing. Her hand hovered near his face, and before she could pull it back Cullen's own hand came up to hers, the back of his fingers lightly brushing over her skin before he cupped her hand with his, gooseflesh raising over her arm.

"Madelyn," he whispered, and she met his eyes, just in time for her to see his drop down to her lips. She gulped, her chest constricting as her pulse quickened, her gaze drifting back down to his mouth once again.

It was happening again. When Cullen confessed how worried he was at Adamant, they had ended up in a similar position, but they had both stopped things before they did something they couldn't take back. But Madelyn didn't know if she—or he—could do that again. Maker help her, she didn't want to do it again.

Before either of them could move any closer, the healer called out to them, ready to examine Cullen's nose. Jerking their hands apart, both warriors sat up straight, sharing a quick, nervous glance before Cullen stood and stepped over to the healer. Madelyn closed her eyes, letting out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

She composed herself and joined Cullen and the healer, who issued him a clean bill of health. After a brief, awkward silence, they parted ways, both heading off to get back to work.

Later that night, Madelyn found herself walking the battlements with Cullen, after they both had some time to put their close encounter behind them.

"How is your nose?"

"It's fine," he answered with a smile. "Like it never even happened."

"I'm sorry for hitting you so hard," she said, offering him an apologetic look.

"You can hit me anytime you want," he replied, his eyes going wide when he realized what he said, and Madelyn quirked an eyebrow at him. Rubbing the back of his neck, Cullen briefly looked away from her, a tinge of a blush on his cheeks. "I mean… there's no need to apologize. We were sparring…" She slowly nodded her head, beginning to understand what he was trying to say. "You wouldn't apologize on a battlefield," he finally said with a huff.

"No, I wouldn't. I would hit my enemy again… harder," she stated, matter-of-factly.

He released a deep breath and then a light chuckle. "So would I."

Madelyn smiled to herself, before she grew serious again, her gaze boring into his. "But… we weren't on a battlefield, we were sparring. I shouldn't have exercised such a lack of control. I should have been more careful. I…" She sighed. "I'm sorry."

"You're not going to stop apologizing, are you?" he asked after a moment, amused.

"Probably not." A small smile broke through her hard expression. "So you had better accept my apology," she ordered, her voice light.

"Apology accepted, Inquisitor," he replied with a laugh. They continued to walk, silence settling between them until Cullen cleared his throat. "Are we still on for sparring tomorrow?"

"Of course," Madelyn answered, unable to hide a grin. "But maybe we should wear a bit more protection… or not use our shields."

Cullen nodded, a smile matching her own spread across his lips. "Agreed."