Commander Cullen knelt before the statue of Andraste, praying fervently. The small sanctuary was a small room, tucked away at the far end of a Skyhold courtyard. He often came here for privacy, and to ask for guidance and peace.

It had been nearly a month since Solona Amell had arrived with her group of Grey Wardens in tow. Cullen had been avoiding the lot of them, which was no small feat since they often held training sessions with his men. Of course, it wasn't really Grey Wardens that unnerved them. It was one in particular. Two, actually, since Nathaniel Howe had taken to glaring at the Commander icily whenever they did happen to cross paths. It only increased Cullen's paranoia.

Did they know? It seemed everyone knew of his unfortunate infatuation with Solona Amell… he thought he'd long since let go of such feelings. What happened between them was a lifetime ago, and what happened… well, it wasn't really much of anything in hindsight. That's what Cullen told himself anyhow. Who was he to love her, to try and lay claim to her? She had always been destined for greater things.

And… she belonged to another.

Cullen gripped his head in his hands. The unpleasant memories seemed to coincide with his fits of lyrium withdrawal. He growled quietly, willing the pain and shakes to subside. Unbidden, images of Amell and her King Alistair flitted through his mind's eye.

I had her first.

No, she was never mine.

Cullen groaned in pain, doubling over at Andraste's feet.

"Maker save me."