Normally, her Templar was a calm man. He was in control of all things in his life. But she supposed the trouble came from what he was, or perhaps what he used to be. A Templar. A Lyrium addict. Dragana knew a little of the plight of the Templars, but not as much as she needed to know. Cullen was awfully brave to stop taking Lyrium as he did, brave and strong. But there were days when the withdrawals got the better of him. And today was one of them. She was scared to go and see him like this, but she needed to be there for him. She needed to hold his hand. She needed to tell him it would all be okay. She needed to feed him...

She balanced a tray with a pot of soup on her hip as she slowly ascended the ladder. She nearly dropped the whole thing when she reached the top and saw him lying in his bed. The bedsheets were twisted around his body. His skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, but he was shaking. Every now and then his back would spasm and cause him to arch with a cry of pain. His eyes stared blankly out at nothing. She set the tray down. He didn't see her. She had a feeling he couldn't see anything. She pulled up a chair next to his bed and sat awkwardly in silence for a minute, fighting back tears that swam in her eyes.

"Hello, love." she said, very quietly, her voice cracking a little under the weight of her tears. His head turned towards her. His bloodshot eyes didn't see her. He was crying, probably from pain and torment.

"Dragana." he said, her name coming out sounding a little funny from his mouth. His tongue was swollen and dry. She could see that swallowing was even difficult for him.

"I brought you some soup, my love. Let's sit you up, get you something to drink and have some soup." She was terrified of touching him, but she needed to sit him up, it would help his back for him to be upright. She clutched him under the arms and hauled him up. He roared at the pain of her touch. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was this bad." She was sobbing now. How could someone as good as Cullen deserve this much pain? What Maker or god would allow such a thing? She carefully helped a glass of water to his lips, which he drank greedily. He tried to smile at her, but only grimaced.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see me this way... I can't possibly serve the inquisition if I'm like this..." Dragana fumbled with the soup pot, just to have something to do with her hands.

"You just have your bad days, that's all. Who knows, maybe this is the worst it will ever be. Maybe you'll only get better from here..." His hand clumsily reached out to find her, absently patting the first thing he could find.
"You are kind to say."

"Just what effect is this having on you, my love?" She didn't know if there was anything she could do with her magic to alleviate his suffering, but on the off chance that there was a chance, she had to know.

"My skin is on fire. All my muscles burn and feel as though they are being stabbed with skewers, right down to the bone. It's shooting right through my eyes. Actually my eyes feel like they're full of sharp little pins. And I haven't been able to see a damn thing in hours. That said, I can't even really feel my limbs, except for the pain in them. I can't even feel your hands right now." She looked down at his hand, which had fallen from her leg as he had been speaking. She took his hand up, making him flinch. She sent a blast of soft, cold energy from her down across his skin, to caress and press against his skin, in the hopes that it would soothe the burning, even though his skin didn't feel hot to the touch. She set it down further, right through his skin to the layers beneath. A small sigh of relief escaped him.

"Thank the Maker I'm in love with a mage." He was trying to joke, she knew. He'd never been good at it, but this was just sad. Everything about this situation was sad. Terribly, terribly sad. But she laughed at his awful attempt to joke, just in the hopes of cheering him up.

"I never wanted to you to play the part of the nursemaid... I never wanted this for us. I want to be strong, and able to serve and protect you. I'm so sorry. I just keep failing you at every turn." She stroked her fingers across his face, but he didn't react to her touch. She supposed it was an improvement.

"I will care for you through sickness and health. That is something my people swear to when we are bonded to another. In my heart, I am yours, and you are mine. Therefore, it is my solemn vow to care for you no matter the circumstances. I would expect the same of you. Especially in the Winter months. I always take sick." She opened the pot of steaming soup and stirred it gently. "Now. Eat. You'll have to return this favour for me one day." Cullen didn't speak, but he looked a little happier, somehow. She carefully brought the spoon up to his lips and told him when to open his mouth to eat.

"You're the only thing keeping me sane, you know. I see demons around every corner. My dead friends from Kinloch in every soldier I train. And I'm so... Paranoid that none of this is real. But there is no way any desire demon could make you up. I know you don't believe it, but I truly think Andraste sent you to save us all. And I am the luckiest man alive, even through this pain, to be by your side. I would suffer ten times more, just have your favour, my love. I don't deserve you..." He swallowed back in pain. "But you should find another. At the very least, you should get away from me. I'm a ticking time bomb. I'm already going senile. You deserve better than that."

She shoved the spoon in his mouth to shut him up. It didn't bear thinking about. She was fully convinced that together, she and Cullen would find a way to end this torment for him and all Templars who stopped taking Lyrium. And she was certain that she could never want to spend her life with anyone else but Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath.

"Shut up. I love you. Now put that fool's notion out of your head." She sighed. "You're allowed to let someone who loves you take care of you, you know. I know your withdrawals are hard, but if we stand against this together, you'll make it through." She set the empty pot aside. He was silent. He looked as though he was thinking. He was still in terrible pain, and shaking.

"My love, would you do one thing for me?" She frowned, but didn't refuse.

"If I can.."

"Put me to sleep. Let me sleep for a day, so I don't feel any of this. Please. I can't bear this pain much longer. I just want it to end." She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his forehead, imbuing that touch with magic. As she drew back, his eyes were shut and his breathing was evening out. She prayed to whatever god would listen to her, that when he woke he would be better.