As days merged into weeks, Cullen's workload decreased to somewhat more manageable size as repairs to Skyhold progressed on. As expected, Josephine and Leliana announced to the world their new Inquisitor, the woman delivered by Andraste herself. Cullen felt a flash of worry whenever he thought of their new 'leader', but mentally waved his concerns aside. The news of the Herald's acceptance of the role of Inquisitor was raising the morality among his men considerably, and brought in a steady source of volunteers to join the Inquisition.

And Cullen had to admit, that when it came to meetings with noble allies the Herald was more apt than he gave her credit for. She sat through each and every meetings Josephine pushed her through, smiling happily while drinking tea and chatting of mundane things such as shoes. After the first such meeting he attended after Josephine trapped him, Cullen vowed never to attend another.

When it came to the matters of more physical duties as the Inquisitor, the Herald was impossible. She outright refused to travel to any areas that posed possible threats – which was everywhere in the world at the moment – and only hours of arguing finally allowed the advisers to send her to areas with rifts spewing demons. She always had a complaint regarding her traveling amenities, her simple clothing, and such other nonsense, and never traveled with her nonhuman members of Inquisition if she could help it. So it often fell on Cassandra, Blackwall, and Vivienne to protect their Herald and to stabilize the areas they visited to the best of their abilities.

When Cullen shared his impromptu meeting with Hawke to the war council, he had to restrain the Seeker from rushing out to throttle Varric. Maker's breath, that woman was strong. When Cassandra finally settled down enough for him to talk, Cullen quickly shared the promise of meeting with Warden Stroud and Hawke in Crestwood, and they drew up a plan for the Inquisitor to head down to the area immediately. Of course, convincing the Herald to go to a village being sieged by corpses took much longer. Cullen barely reigned in his anger at her obnoxious protests, flexing his fists under the table. By the time Cassandra dragged the Herald away to ready themselves for the ride, even Leliana was fuming.

"I know she needed to be named Inquisitor for the politics' sake, but she is impossible!" Cullen growled. His headache was growing worse by the minute, aggravated by the Herald's constant whining.

"How much time did we just waste on convincing her to go close the rift at Crestwood? An hour?" Leliana bristled visibly. Josephine tried to placate them. "The important thing is that she is going, and soon Crestwood will be free of corpses and the villagers will be safe again. Seeker Pentaghast will make sure of it. And soon we will have word from Warden Stroud and the Champion of Kirkwall. It is the lead we have needed desperately."

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, and grimaced. His hands were threatening to shake; fresh sheen of sweat broke through his skin over the brows. Cullen could practically taste the bittersweet lyrium on his tongue. "If there is nothing else, I will head back to my office." His strained voice immediately made Leliana and Josephine look worried, but he quickly fled the war room before they had a chance to speak.

"*~*"

"Out!" Cullen snarled at the soldiers in his office, making them scamper away in their hurry to get out of their Commander's way. He caught the last one, and through his gritted teeth, ordered her to tell Barris he was in charge until further notice. After bolting all three doors, Cullen bent over his desk, gripping the edges of his table tightly until his hands ached. A moment later, his withdrawal symptoms overwhelmed him.

The headache developed into a splitting pain, blinding him. Flashes of bright lights danced in his sights. His guts clenched and heaved, trying to turn his insides out. Thankfully, he had forgone his meals and there was nothing in his stomach.

Gripping the tables could no longer stop his hands from shaking. Tremors started from his fingertips and slowly spread up his arms, and to the rest of his body. Cullen collapsed heavily into a crumpled heap onto the floor, his shaking legs no longer able to support the heavy weight of armor.

Thousand daggers stabbed and sliced along his skin, twisting and melting into his bones. Cold sweat covered his body sickly as his fever worsened. He shuddered, somehow feeling hot and cold at once.

Cullen bit down hard on his lips, until blood began to flow. I will not make any noise that may alert my men. I will not. I cannot. By the Maker, there were guards right outside his door. When a pained groan began to form in his throat, Cullen opted for biting on his fist instead. I cannot be seen by my men like this!

And so Cullen laid on the cold floor silently, his teeth digging deep into his gloved fist. He counted the seconds, and then minutes until the pain washed all coherent thoughts away from him.

"*~*"

Cullen woke with a start when a soft yet insistent knock reverberated through his quiet office. How long have I been out for? Judging from how dark his office was, probably couple of hours at least. The knock came yet again, a little louder this time. Sighing, Cullen pulled himself up to his feet, and moved to his door. Unbolting it, Cullen found himself staring at the spirit-boy Cole.

"Cole? What are you doing here?" Cullen asked warily. Cole had been helpful at the Therinfal Redoubt, but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous or unpredictable. Cole held out the bottle in his hands.

"Shivering, shaking, tiny needle like daggers twisting. Throbbing pain nestled in the back of the unseeing eyes. Always wanting, hurting, and reaching for the blue relief in the small box. Shackles and relief. Can't let them see, can't let them know. But I know. I… I want to help."

Well that was unusually direct, coming from him. Cullen stepped aside to allow the boy to come in. He didn't want Cole spouting his 'hurt' within the earshot of his guards.

Cole pushed a vial of something into his hand, which Cullen peered at warily. Deciding it was just water, he gulped it down. The water was chilled, shocking the last lingering hunger for lyrium out of his system as it slid down his parched throat. When he drained it, Cole started to wipe away at Cullen's face with a warm wet cloth. Cullen started to protest against the motion, until he caught the scent of the cloth he was using.

It somehow smelled of wildflowers, oranges, and sweet honey. Of spicy smoke of the fire roaring at his family's hearth that reminds him of warmth and safety. Somehow, Cole had made this small piece of fabric smell like her. The woman who haunted his dreams every night despite the decade that's gone past. It was the scent that wafted around him in his dreams when Cullen ran his fingers through her lustrous black hair, watching her lovely brown eyes softening at him.

Shocked speechless, Cullen numbly lets Cole wipe the cooling sweat off of his face.

"Roaring fire, warmth seeping into cold bones. So dark, so cold, and yet she brings light. Keeps me here, keeps me grounded. Real. Smells so sweet, of flower and honey, of fruit she likes so much. It once made me happy. But they corrupted it, twisted it. Mixed with demons and rot. Rotten oranges." Cullen flinched as Cole picked out the last day Cullen had smelled her in waking moments. "It's alright… She doesn't smell like that. She never smelled like that. She does smell a little coppery though. That was real. She bleeds lots of bad people."

Cullen waved the boy away. He wasn't sure if he could take it any longer. "Thank you, Cole. The water was definitely helpful. Don't tell anybody else of my 'hurt.' Nobody else needs to know."

Cole looked sad and confused. "But they will want to know. They all worry." Cullen shook his head. "They will worry, but there won't be anything they can do to help me. It will make them hurt too." Cole thought for a moment, and then nodded. "No need to spread the hurt. The long steel ringing as it hits the stark floor. Blood dripping, pooling into puddle. His wild eyes begged me to help him. I helped the only way I could. I helped him with my sword. Splashed puddle when his face falls in it." Cullen turned ashen at that, and Cole immediately shook his head agitatedly.

"No! No, that didn't work. I'll try again." "No! Cole. Stop. Just… just leave me alone for now. You did help today. Thank you." Cole looked at him sadly. "I can't make you forget."

"No. I can't forget. Nor do I want to. Good night, Cole." The boy simply disappeared.

Cullen took a long moment to regain his composure, breathing deeply through his nose. After pocketing the small piece of cloth Cole had left behind, Cullen smoothed his curly hair and pulled on his Commander mask before striding out of his office in search for Barris. He always had more work to do.