Tying up some loose ends with timeframes and information-wise.
Enjoy!
.o.O.o.
Credits for any tevene goes to katiebour at deviantart and the dragonage wikia.
Credits for any elvish goes to FenXshiral and whom ever is responsible for the LingoJam elven DAI translator. I'm sorry if I abuse the language. Bare with me, I'm trying.
Chapter 21
.o.O.o.
Startling awake on his bedroll, panting and drenched in sweat, Cullen tried to shake the dream from his mind. He must have fallen asleep somewhere along the night, despite his grief, and despite hearing Dorians words constantly echo around his mind.
He sighed at the thought of his dreams having found new horrifying ways to torture him. The dreams was bad enough before, without the added element of his dead fiancé and he wasn't sure he could withstand much more pain and sorrow.
She had seemed so real, just like she had been when she helped him in the past. Soothing his mind with her compassion and love as she helped him steer the nightmare away until he woke up.
Cullen's heart cried out in what he believed was false hope. If she had had her arm and the mark when she disappeared, he would have jumped on the possibility of it really being her. But she didn't have the mark, she couldn't enter the fade to survive a deadly blast and she couldn't enter his dreams any more.
This was all just his griefstrickened minds wild wants he told himself. And it was going to be the death of him…
Cullen pulled himself together enough to put on a shirt. Running his fingers through his hair he put on his boots and he left his tent to get some air. The air helped clear his head and after a while of aimless wandering through the outskirts of the camp he decided to check up on Dorian.
The mage was just as crushed as Cullen and he understood how much it must have hurt to accept the fact that Anuira was gone.
The world would be that much poorer with the loss of her, of that Cullen was sure, but he had to push his feelings aside. He needed to function, to get the troops back to Skyhold and tend to its affairs. Someone had to, and with him and Dorian being probably the closest thing Anuira had to a family, the responsibility of Skyhold became theirs.
Reaching Dorians tent he announced himself, careful not be too loud as he didn't want to wake up the soldiers sleeping close by. When no one answered or even stirred in the tent he carefully lifted the flap to peek inside. The sight made his gut clench painfully. Aside from a note laying neatly folded on the pillow of the bedroll, the tent was devoid of all things Dorian. A bit chocked, Cullen walked over to pick up and read the note.
"Going back to Tevinter.
There's nothing for me here now.
/ Dorian Pavus"
The ex-templar sank to the floor as he crumpled the note in his hand, cursing the blighted mage for leaving him alone in this mess. Dorian was not the only one suffering, not the only one wanting to run away screaming and hide from the painful truth.
Trying desperately to keep his sorrow in check he slammed a fist to the ground, focusing on the physical pain instead of the hurt in his heart threatening to tear him apart.
Cullen found a bit of anger to hold on to, anger directed at Dorian for being an egotistical bastards, anger at the somnoborium for stealing the love of his life and anger at the whole of world for not saving its savior. Being angry felt better than falling to pieces in front of people and Cullen held on to the sliver of fury like a lifeline.
.o.O.o.
"Cullen?" A voice rang out across the bustling and almost fully packed camp. "Cullen Rutherford?!"
"Yes! Over here…" Cullen shouted bitterly and then trailed of, annoyed at no one in particular. The man came jogging over to him as he packed the last things into the wagon.
"There's a message." said the unknown scout matter-of-factly. "From Lady Nightingale."
Cullen looked the man over as he took the letter he was bidden and thanked the man by offering him what was left of the breakfast the camp had shared. As he read the letter he felt himself scoff as things fell into place. Of course, they'd tried to off her before. She was, after all, one of the only people in Thedas who commanded loyalty across nations and with ears and eyes almost everywhere.
"Cullen,
I found the culprits responsible for the attack on Lavellans life after Halamshiral. It was the same cult you are currently battling in Harper's Ford. And from what we've gathered so far it looks as if they want to get their hands on Skyhold, we don't know why yet.
I'll try to have this organization infiltrated and keep you updated.
We haven't received word from you in a couple of days. Are you ok? Is the threat dealt with?
/ Nightingale"
How much more pressure could he take before he exploded? He knew he had a hard couple of days ahead of him, writing a lot of heavy letters to a lot of people around Thedas. And he silently wished someone else would take over this burden so he could go hide somewhere secluded and lick his wounds. But she would not want him to abandon everyone and everything she had fought for. He stalked off to find ink and parchment and wrote a short, none too happy reply before going back to the messenger.
"Before I go…" the young male courier said timidly as Cullen turned his annoyed gaze at him. The messenger's eyes went to the ground and he squirmed anxiously.
"May I ask… Miss Lavellan… I mean… I haven't seen her… is she ok?" the young male sputtered, shifting anxiously from foot to foot and had a hard time looking Cullen in the eyes. The ex-templar closed his eyes, looking away, sighing as his features twisted in grief.
"She's gone…" he whispered in a choked voice as he turned on his heal and marched off with a polite but stiff nod in the messengers direction. The courier stood stock still, chock painted across his face and looked as if he had been struck by lightning. Cullen didn't care, he already had too much to deal with but not enough time or energy to do it.