Killeen woke, completely and instantly, as Cullen murmured in his sleep.

"Cullen, you're dreaming," she said softly, and heard the shift in his breathing as he woke. His arms tightened around her, his lips brushed the back of her neck. "Bad dream?"

"No," he whispered, drawing her more firmly against him. "Very good dream." His hand slid down between her legs and she arched against him with a groan, a bolt of heat shooting through her. "I might still be dreaming," he whispered, beginning to rock against her, his touch gentle but firm. "Oh, yes. Yes."

Cullen whispered: "Yes, oh yes…" against her hair, his hands roaming slowly over her, moving more urgently now, and she knew it was wrong, knew she should wake him but, Maker, it felt so good — she let herself imagine he was awake, that it was her he wanted —

The sudden memory of the way she'd taken advantage of Cullen's trust, his vulnerability, turned Killeen's stomach. "Stop," she coughed, and as Cullen's grip loosened she scrambled out of bed, lost her footing and fell to her hands and knees, retching.

"Kill?" She heard Cullen throw back the sheets and stand.

"Sorry," she gasped, and vomited again. "I'm so sorry." He touched her shoulder, withdrew his hand as she flinched away. "Cullen, I'm so sorry."

"It's all right," he said. As her nausea eased, Killeen blinked her vision clear to see him offering her a mug. "Water," he said.

She took it, drank to clean her mouth. With nowhere to spit she swallowed the taste of sour bile and fought another wave of sickness.

Cullen pulled the top sheet from the bed and dropped it over her vomit. "What did I do?" he asked, so conversationally that only someone who knew him as well as Killeen did would have heard the strain.

"Nothing," she said.

"Kill, if you don't tell me —" he said.

She cut him off. "No."

"Kill —" He knelt beside her, not too close.

She forced the words out. "Not you. Me." Deep breaths against the nausea. "I … did something. It —"

"I don't care," Cullen said. "Whatever it was, I don't care. Kill, do you hear me?"

"You were asleep," Killeen said, shame a hot coal in her gut. "One morning, before … all of this. I didn't … wake you. I — Maker, Cullen, I'm so sorry! I knew it was wrong, I'm so sorry —"

"Kill. Killeen." He reached out a hand toward her, let it drop when she shook her head. "I don't understand."

Killeen took a deep breath, another, closed her eyes to make it easier to say what she knew she had to. "That morning. The last one before the Arbor Wilds. I woke up and you were dreaming — I thought it was one of your nightmares but you … it wasn't. You were dreaming about the Inquisitor, you thought I was her, and it just felt so good, and I — I'm sorry. I didn't — Cullen, I'd wanted you for so long and I —"

"That morning, I was dreaming of you, you dolt." Cullen said, moving a little closer to her. "I dream of beating Lady Trevelyan at chess, not of making love to her. That morning, I dreamed you were in my arms, and I woke up, and you were."

"It doesn't matter who you were dreaming of," Killeen said, eyes filling with tears.

Cullen's voice held a hint of exasperation. "Did you hear me? I woke up."

"What I did was still wrong," Killeen said. "I thought you were asleep. I —"

"Kill, I swear sometimes you can hear me open my eyes," Cullen said. "If you thought I was asleep it was the only time you've been wrong on that count since Haven. And if you're going to cry, will you please come over here and do it?"

She risked a glance at him, saw nothing but concern in his expression, not the distaste or disgust she'd feared and expected. He held out his arms and she went into them, burying her face against his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"I'm not," Cullen said, holding her tightly. "I was thoroughly delighted, and thoroughly confused when you seemed to want to pretend nothing had happened, but I most definitely wasn't, at any point, sorry. Even if you did have to tell yourself I was asleep to believe it. Maker, Kill, you were so beautiful, it was so glorious to see you and hear you and feel you …"

"I thought you must be asleep," she said. "Because you wouldn't cheat on Lady Trevelyan."

He rubbed her back. "Because of the kind of man I'd be if I did?" he suggested gently.

Killeen realised it was true. "Yes." The knot in her stomach suddenly eased and she relaxed against him, beginning to sob with relief.

"Have you been feeling guilty about it all this time?" Cullen asked, rocking her gently.

"I h-haven't thought ab-bout it," she admitted. "I didn't w-want to … this m-morning, it r-reminded me …"

"And here I was just trying to recreate a happy memory," Cullen said. "Kill … that morning, you were — I heard you say yes, and I thought … you were willing. Weren't you?"

"Maker, yes," she said, her sobs starting to ease, and felt him laugh. "I'd d-dreamed, imagined … sometimes even pretended, but it felt so much b-better than I'd ever thought."

"Sometime, I'd like to hear about that," Cullen said softly. "But for now, I think you should get back into bed while I clean up."

"I can do that," Killeen protested as he started to get to his feet.

"I still have a long way to go before we're even," he pointed out, helping her up and steering her to the bed. "And you haven't been getting enough sleep."

"And whose fault is that?" she asked, and he blushed a little, grinned at her. "Not that I'm complaining, mind."

"I'll try to be more considerate."

Killeen curled up, watching the muscles of his back slide beneath the skin as he gathered the soiled sheet from the floor. "Don't you dare."

Despite her protestations, Killeen dozed before Cullen came back, waking briefly as a clean sheet settled over her. The mattress gave as he lay down beside her and she rolled over to rest against his shoulder, slipped back down into sleep to the touch of his hand on her hair, the even whisper of his breath.

Dreamed, as far as she could remember later, of absolutely nothing at all.