It started with a great pinching, right behind his eyes. Awful and annoying, it stayed there, like someone was trying to pull Cullen's eyes back into his head with little success. He scowled, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He swore quietly.

Maker's breath, but he couldn't work like this. Why did the lyrium withdrawal have to act up now? For a stretch of days, he had been doing well. Stiff moments occasionally, some soreness here and slight itching but nothing too pressing. Nothing like this, where it took his focus and his ability to concentrate and stomped it so acutely underfoot.

He put down the report he had been looking at and pressed the palms of his hands into his closed eyes, sighing softly. Maker have mercy, he needs to get this done but he can't even…

"…having difficulties, Commander?"

Shit, when did the door open?

Cullen snapped to his feet, and squinted his eyes, ignoring the ache, at who had entered his office from the south door. "Madame de Fer?" he asked curiously, eyes still narrow and squinted even after the door had been shut and the woman strolled inside. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Vivienne smiled and waved a hand as she walked up to his desk. "Oh, no need for formalities, dear," she drawled. "'Vivienne' is fine." Like a cat she perched herself in the chair across from his desk, crossing one leg over the other smoothly. "And you can take a seat. I doubt you want to be standing for long, what with the way you're feeling."

Cullen frowned at her. He shifted his weight again to look at her properly. Gosh it felt so hard to focus on her, he had his cheeks scrunched as if to ease the strain behind his eyes. "How did you…?"

"You forget I've grown up around your kind, Commander," Vivienne murmured, her smile never faltering. "Or rather your old kind now, I suppose. Many of my closest friends were Templars." She motioned her hand to his chair, and he felt the seat of it press against the back of his legs encouragingly. She's…

…hesitantly, he sat down. A sigh escaped him when he leaned back, and the mage tittered. "See what I mean? You're exhausting yourself, Commander. No wonder its acting up more so than usual."

Cullen, feeling at peace enough to openly rub his forehead while in her presence, did. He grimaced. "That brings up another question," he muttered. "How did you know about—"

"—the lyrium?" Vivienne gentled. "Again, most of my closest friends were Templars. I saw quite a few of them try what you are doing now—although none of them achieved success." Her voice sobered, and her eyes drifted from him, almost indifferently.

Cullen lowered his eyes and sighed. "I was afraid of that." Just another handful of stories about how what he was attempting was impossible. Figures.

"Not that I believe that indicates you should give up, my dear," Vivienne added, and she placed her hands elegantly on top of one another, resting on her knee. "On the contrary, I encourage you to continue. What it would mean—if a Templar finally was able to leave the lyrium behind for good." Her eyes came back to him, and they weren't soft. They were firm. "It's necessary, not only for yourself, that you survive this, darling. But it's going to get harder. I hope you know that."

Cullen nodded to her and took a breath, straightening up in his seat. "I know. I'm not quite…looking forward to it. But I'm aware."

Vivienne smiled, pleased. She turned her head away, eyes drifting to her hands. Cullen watched her for a moment more before he shifted again in his seat, slightly leaning forward and asking, "But I doubt you came here to just talk to me about lyrium. What brought you here?" Surely this wasn't just a social visit?

The Madame's grin widened, curling and coy and she turned to him, straightening up. "I just have a few favors to ask." She slipped a paper onto his desk, folded neatly and pristine. "It's nothing that should cause trouble. Just something I think that should be arranged for the good of the Inquisition. We all must make necessary sacrifices accordingly, my dear."

Her voice worried him and he pressed his lips together in concern as he reached for the note and opened it up to read. His eyes scanned over the words, and then he frowned. "…'barracks for recruits with Templar training should be relocated to the barracks under the mage tower. At all times while studies are progressing, there should be Templar knights stationed on each level, keeping watch over the—'" Cullen did not read anymore. He looked up and held the page towards the ceiling, eyebrows furrowed. His headache intensified. "You're wanting to make the mage tower a Circle?"

"Why yes, my dear. Of course." Vivienne did not bat an eye; instead, she raised her eyebrows. "Seeing as how our dear Inquisitor has made the mistake of making an alliance with the rebel mages, our current students within the tower have no authority, and thus, no safety net to catch them should something go wrong. It is downright negligence to not have a security measure in order, such as the Templars we have, in case of an emergency—not just to them, but to the entire Inquisition."

Cullen fought a grimace. Maker's breath, this wasn't helping his headache at all. He braced himself, gritting his jaw as he considered her words, rereading her missive, tapping the fold of the paper against the wood of his desk idly. "I see what you're saying," he finally murmured after a long pause. "Believe me, I do—but to be honest, what do you think they are going to get into up there?"

He looked to her, and Vivienne's lips were pressed together thinly. "Why, my dear, that's exactly the point," she finally said, her voice dipping lower, more curt. "They could get into anything as it is right now. I'm trying to see to it so that they don't."

"Great," Cullen responded and nodded and he tossed the paper to the desk. "So see to it that they don't." And at her stillness, her telling silence—no open display of confusion, no frown or furrowed brow—but just clean tranquility that spoke volumes on her bafflement, he added, "Ergo, don't make them prisoners. Be a—I don't know—mentor, or something. But for the good of the Inquisition, don't risk our relationship as it stands with the rebel mages. Lord Trevelyan has decided to call them 'friends.' So we will treat them as such. Not captives."

The stretch of Vivienne's mouth was enough to let him know of her…displeasure at his response. She sat for a long time like that, back straight, all lines and beautiful angles as she stared at him tightly. Then she finally spoke. "I'm disappointed, Commander," she said, and though her tone did not change, its pitch was different. Lilting almost. "Of all people, I thought you would understand my intentions."

"I do." Cullen's splitting headache as of now was evidence enough of that. "Believe me, I do. But there are other ways to supervise what goes on in that tower, and until it is necessary, I will employ those other ways as much as possible."

The Madame turned away momentarily, her chin still held high. She paused, considering this. And then she stood, turning to smile at the Commander again, something icy in her eyes. "Very well, then. Have it your way, my dear. I will personally see to the studies of the mages in the tower with whatever time I can manage—but the instant something goes wrong, let me make it perfectly clear that it will not be on my head the axe will fall."

Cullen baited his breath and sighed as she left the room in a whirl. When he was finally alone, it was then he pinched the bridge of his nose, still trying to abate the nasty headache pulling at his temples. Her words didn't worry him. Not really.

After all, what's one more axe, he couldn't help but think, when I've got so many others I'm still waiting on to swing.

Krissey's Notes: Admittedly, this is only one half of the prompt I was given. The original prompt is, for "Cullen and Vivienne to have a conversation in which they both open up to each other (doesn't have to be a lot)...Can be any sort of conversation...friendly, snarky, sad, whatever."

And while I intended to totally be able to do that in just one oneshot, as I was doing my character analysis of Vivienne, I realized she's a tough shell to crack. She's not without reason, not especially unkind. Just a tough and guarded cookie. So getting to where Cullen and Vivienne are open with each other, I've decided, is gonna take some navigation. Thus...voila. We have a half-finished prompt. We will return to Cullen and Vivienne once Vivienne has had some time...adapting to her new responsibility. Which I'm sure will spark all sorts of interesting and heartwarming conversations later. Sound good?

I hope so. Thanks for reading, friends!