A Qunari alliance sounded powerful, politically. Lavellan foolishly assumed the concern- and in some cases, panic- over it was overblown.
All was well until they knew, and rushed, and the Dreadnought exploded. All was well until Bull had to make that damned choice. All was well until the Chargers were losing ground. Bull stood, demeanor calm, even as he had to make a choice between the things most important to him. His people, or his Chargers.
Lavellan screamed out, telling The Iron Bull to call a retreat and save the Chargers.
So he did. He saved them. But he broke his ties to the Qun then and there. Rejected. A Tal-Vashoth. What he seemed to dread most became reality, and Lavellan was who tipped the scale for his decision.
He seemed... okay. They all knew he wasn't.
Once the group safely returned to Skyhold, drinking away the troubles was quite the priority. Lavellan gladly joined the Chargers for drinks. Krem sat next to her.
"You're not sitting with Bull?" Asked a barefoot Lavellan, dressed in leggings and a tunic.
"He needs some time." Krem answered. Lavellan nodded. "He'll be okay though, stubborn bastard. Nothing will get him down in the end."
"You and he are so close." Lavellan said.
"Well, he did save me. I may be a dirty Vint but he's a dumb Qunari." Krem ran a hand through his hair but smiled at Lavellan.
"Bull and the Chargers are always welcome and respected here." Lavellan said awkwardly.
"Thanks, Inquisitor." Krem responded, a hint of teasing in his voice. Lavellan rolled her eyes, and they each took a shot. Then another... and one more.
They were laughing together like old friends, drunkenly walking around Skyhold in the night, full moon illuminating most everything. Lavellan found herself at the stable, stroking her Hart, a Tirashan Swiftwind she had named Ghilana. Krem watched while leaning against part of the stable.
"So, what's up with this... courting thing you have going on with the Commander?" Krem asked suddenly. So casually.
"What?" Lavellan was taken aback. Krem laughed heartily.
"The Boss is- was- Ben Hassrath. Picked up by him easily. Shared with me, as usual."
Lavellan cursed, face burning. She should have known.
"Ah, it's not my business. Let's just say, I don't even remember what we were talking about." Krem tried to change the subject for the Inquisitor's sake.
Lavellan nodded, thankful that Krem was going to drop it. The Charger offered a small smile, and Lavellan returned the gesture. A heavy weight thumped on her shoulder, making the young woman instinctively leap up, magic flaring around her hands as she readied to defend herself. She flipped around to face- "Bull!" She exclaimed, the Qunari standing there steadily.
"Boss. Be careful." He said.
"Bull... are you okay?" Lavellan asked. Bull nodded.
"How long've you been listening in?" Krem asked, grinning. The Iron Bull shrugged.
"I'm going to go crash." Bull said, swiftly changing the subject. Krem agreed, rubbing his eyes a bit sleepily. A drunk Lavellan was still fairly confused- but she often was with Bull and his Chargers. Sleep sounded like a lovely idea, as it was. The moon was high in the sky. She was tired. But she didn't want to walk yet, sitting down next to her Hart with only the stable door separating them. And like that, she was lost in her thoughts.
"How many times am I going to find you in these random places, drunk, Inquisitor?"
The sharp voice jerked her out of her thoughts, and as her eyes adjusted, the blonde hair and worried gaze came into focus. "Cullen!" She gasped.
"Do you... need some help?" He offered.
Lavellan nodded, allowing Cullen to help her to her room. Her door shut behind the pair, they trekked the stairs. Cullen kept a firm hand on Lavellan's back to help her keep balance. His touch was warm. Or maybe she was cold.
He lead her to her bed and she sat, crossing her legs and smirking. The elf was looking at Cullen in a way he hadn't seen before. Her eyes sparkled, and she beckoned him closer with a slender finger. He stepped forward as if he couldn't control himself and she reached up, threading her slender fingers through his hair- shocked at her own boldness as she pulled the ex-Templar close to her.
Cullen gasped, his face so close to hers. Burning. He was blushing. "Oh, Maker." He murmured. "Lavellan, wha- how- why- uh...uhm.. th-this. What do you...um.. Want from me?"
Lavellan had yet to let go, and Cullen didn't try to pull away. "I want you." Lavellan purred. She was buzzed and happy and wanted to be close to him. She wanted to feel him. The Inquisitor leaned back into a laying position slowly, pulling Cullen down with her.
And Maker, Cullen wanted her. Pressed against her lithe body, lips locked passionately, it was... amazing. A light buzz danced across his skin as her fingers ghosted up his arms. The feeling was somehow wonderful, yet uneasily familiar.
Magic.
He jerked away from Lavellan as if she was a nest of wasps.
"I'm.. I'm sorry, I can't, I need..." He trailed off, leaving her room abruptly and with no further elaboration. The shemlen nearly ran from her room. Lavellan was left cold, confused and admittedly... hurt.
The cold of Skyhold at night fit his suddenly bitter mood, anxious jitters taking over his body. The disgust was instinctive. Magic, like that? No. Cullen put chilled hands over his eyes, dragging them downward and heaving a massive sigh. He strode to his own quarters, powerful steps, breath leaving clouds in the chilled air as he crossed the doorway into his room.
For a moment, all was silent but the wind.
Then the vase smashed against the wall, the pieces shattering along with the silence. It was followed by thumps of what could only be books. Inkwells. Black ink splashed onto the stone walls. He punched the rough, hard wall so hard his hand was bruised and bloody and the sudden rage and fear continued to rush through him, adrenaline going into overdrive. So much fear. Fear. Regret. Oh, Maker, the screams. What was he supposed to do?
Cullen's head was pounding, world spinning, when he finally slouched onto the ground. Staring at the dust and the flecks of glass from throwing things. A shuddered breath, and with eyes watering, he tried to go to sleep, hunched against that cold stone wall.
Those screams haunted him anew.
He was dangerous to mages.
"Oh, Maker, what am I doing?"