It was early in the morning when the Seeker stalked into Cullen's study, a thunderstorm brewing over her head. "Commander," she called as she banged the door open, the old and worn-down wood shuddering at the force of the blow. "Commander!"
"Seeker Cassandra." Cullen looked up from his stack of reports, missives, correspondence and maps to greet her, too used to the force of the Seeker's annoyance to be particularly disquieted by it.
"Have you seen the Tevinter?"
"Who?"
"Dorian. Have you seen Dorian?" Cassandra's face twisted as if just the act of speaking Dorian's name was enough to cause her physical pain.
"I have yet to see anyone today, Seeker." Cullen looked pointedly out the window, where the sun had only just risen over the mountain range to the east of Skyhold, simultaneously slipping the letter that had been delivered to him from Dorian mere minutes ago under his troop movement map. As he did so, he justified the small deception to himself. His words weren't untrue: he hadn't seen Dorian today. "Something I can help you with?"
"I gave him specific instructions to stay his hand, to not enter the keep to retrieve the felandaris. Not only did he disobey me, but he took Cole into danger with him. I told him there would be disciplinary action, and he disappeared. I have not been able to find the man for two days now."
"Surprising," Cullen murmured, unable to help himself.
"What?" The Seeker's voice cut like a knife.
"Nothing." Her tone reminded him of the debt he owed Dorian - the mage had gone out of his way to help Cullen, and antagonizing the Seeker would not help him mollify her.
Cassandra sat down on the chair opposite him at the desk, her breath quickened by anger and a red flush across her cheeks.
"If I may, Seeker…" Cullen gestured to the extract of felandaris, placed on a shelf near his desk. Her eyes zeroed in on the elixir, and Cullen reached over to retrieve it, handing it over to Cassandra for inspection.
She turned the flask in her hand, holding it up to the early morning sunlight to peer into its midst. Her brow furrowed, and she scoffed derisively. "This is what all the trouble was about? It looks disgusting."
Cullen grunted in amusement. "I can't say it tastes very good, but…" He held out his hand over the desk, illustrating his point. His fingers didn't shake, and there was a healthy color to his previously sallow complexion.
Cassandra's eyes widened. She looked from his hand to his face, her eyes moving from point to point on the mental checklist he supposed she had for keeping tabs on his condition. The signs he knew she would see were the same ones he had marvelled at himself just a moment ago, as he had glanced into a looking glass upon waking. The telltale dark circles below his eyes were much lighter, his skin had regained some color, and the constant sheen of sweat that had lingered over his skin for months now had all but vanished. The most dramatic change of all, however, was the expression in his eyes. Previously glazed over with fever, he now looked more like himself. The half-crazed, red-rimmed look of constant distress had been replaced by a look that reminded him of how he used to be. He looked like Cullen.
"So quickly?" The Seeker sounded disbelieving, as if wondering whether Cullen could have feigned these improvements just to stay her hand from punishment against his friend.
"Yes."
"And the pain?"
"Manageable." It was true; Cullen had only been taking one pain relief tonic in the evenings, down from the five or six he used to need every day. His pain had lessened to the point where it was only occasional, a momentary spasm of what he had previously endured. It wracked his body and took his breath away for a mere few heartbeats - but no longer was it constant. The soreness in his muscles was now more due to his renewed energy than anything else; after having been subconsciously avoiding unnecessary movement for so long, he had relished in walking, training, jumping and running unhindered these past few days. He was feeling the effects of that - but it was a pleasant soreness, not like the one brought on by his withdrawal. "The felandaris has worked… better than I had hoped. I think even Dorian was surprised."
"Have there been any side effects?"
"None that I have noticed, Seeker."
Cassandra scoffed, but her expression softened. She handed the flask back to him, and he placed it carefully back in the shelf.
"Fine," the Seeker finally huffed.
"Fine?"
"Fine. You may tell Dorian that his insubordination will be… overlooked. Just in this one situation. He has done a good thing here," she said, her brow furrowed in a way that made it clear that she was more than a little discontented by the words coming out of her mouth.
Cullen bit back a smile. "Of course, Seeker."
Cassandra made as if to leave, but then seemed to remember something and sat back in the chair suddenly. "Oh, and I heard some… news. From Varric." She crossed her hands over her chest, once again surveying Cullen's face with hawk-like intensity.
It was all Cullen could do to keep the color from rising to his cheeks. Apparently, the news of his involvement with the Inquisitor was juicy enough to bring even Varric and Cassandra together in gossip. "Varric seems to have been speaking with a good many people about... certain matters," he said, with as casual a tone as he could muster.
Cassandra clearly took that as confirmation of what she had heard; a curious smile ghosted across her face so quickly Cullen wasn't sure he had seen it at all, to be replaced by a stern expression more in tune with her usual demeanor. "I hope you know what you're doing, Commander."
Cullen struggled to keep his voice from shaking. "Of course, Seeker," he said, even as the opposite answer rang in his mind.
The Seeker continued as if she had not heard him. "I am not wholly surprised, of course." Cassandra exhaled sharply, the accompanying sound halfway between a grunt and a snort. "I don't believe anyone is. I would just advise caution as you… proceed."
"We have… discussed the matter, Seeker. The Inquisitor has assured me she does not believe it will be a problem."
The corner of Cassandra's mouth turned up in a wry smile. "That does not surprise me, either. Amalia is certainly more than capable of taking care of herself. I'm… happy for you, Cullen. I believe this to be a good thing." She spoke the words in a softer tone than he was used to hearing from her.
This time, Cullen couldn't stop the blush from rising to his cheeks, and he looked away in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. He elected to nod in lieu of reply; there was a lump in his throat that he expected would make forming a coherent sentence impossible.
Cassandra had already risen out of the chair by the time he looked back at her. "I will leave it to you to inform Dorian of his pardon," she stated, steering the conversation into more comfortable waters for both of them.
"Of course, Seeker." Cullen turned back to his maps as he spoke, and soon he heard the door close behind Cassandra.
It didn't take him long to cross the room to his cloak and drape it over his shoulders. Despite what he had told the Seeker, Cullen in fact knew exactly where Dorian was. The letter he had received from the mage by messenger this morning had revealed that he had been working with Dagna for the past few days, and they believed they had made progress on undoing Samson by reverse-engineering the tools Varric had found at the Shrine of Dumat.
Cullen headed out the door of his study towards the arcanist's haunt. Autumn had arrived in Skyhold, first creeping slowly on the trail of the waning summer and then suddenly all at once. The few broad-leafed trees dotted between towering evergreens had turned brilliant shades of orange and yellow, and the omnipresent winds that howled through the keep sent more and more leaves fluttering to the ground with each gust. Even the air smelled of autumn, of fallen leaves trod underfoot and gathering pools of water in courtyards and gardens.
The keep bustled with activity around Cullen as he walked; the rapidly changing weather had jolted everyone into winter preparations. The cooks had set their assistants to gathering the mushrooms that had sprung up about the roots of trees, the blacksmith was busy shoeing the horses for the ice that would soon cover the ground, and the stonemasons still at work on restoring the keep were rushing to finish projects that would not be possible once the deep snows fell.
Cullen took a deep breath as he reached the main courtyard, enjoying the crisp, clean mountain air. He loved autumn, but he knew from experience that here in the Frostbacks it would be a short and muddy affair. As if called forth by his thoughts, he felt the first drops of rain on his head. He picked up the pace, but couldn't outrun the sudden downpour.
By the time he reached the doors of the great hall, his cloak was sodden and his hair plastered to the top of his head.
"Hey, Curly."
Cullen turned towards the greeting. Varric was sitting by the hearth near the great doors, warming his hands in the light of the blazing fire within.
"Good morning, Varric."
"You look like a soaked Mabari." The dwarf grinned and gestured to the seat beside him as he spoke. "You wanna come dry off? I swear this is the only warm seat in this entire keep."
"If only I had the time." Cullen sighed, wiping some droplets of water from his brow with the back of his hand. "I've a meeting with the arcanist and Dorian."
"Oh, about the red lyrium?"
"You know about it?"
"Yeah. Amalia asked me to go with her tomorrow to ship more of the damn stuff back to Skyhold." Varric rolled his eyes.
"More?"
"Yeah, we already brought a few pieces back for Dagna a while ago. She wanted to study it, and Amalia thought it might help with the whole Samson thing."
"There's been red lyrium in Skyhold for a while?" Cullen didn't like the idea of there having been red lyrium in the keep without him knowing. It was like bringing an enemy straight into their midst. How could Amalia not have told him?
"Oh. Right. 'Don't tell Cullen, Varric'." Varric chuckled. "I wasn't happy about it either. Amalia said Dagna would take care of it. She's weird, but since there haven't been any problems, I guess she knows how to deal with that shit. Anyway, we're lugging in some more starting tomorrow, so if you're going to protest you should probably take it up with the boss sooner rather than later. You are in a pretty good position to do so, after all." A sly grin spread across the dwarf's face.
Cullen didn't bother pretending he didn't know what Varric was referring to. "Yes. I've been told I have you to thank for word getting out about… that."
"No thanks needed, Curly. Best story I've had to tell in ages."
Cullen didn't feel the need to dignify the dwarf's response with anything more than a grunt. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that anything between him and the Inquisitor would be public knowledge… and if that was the price he had to pay, so be it. As it was, Varric's teasing did not bother him half as much as it would have yesterday.
"I'd better be going."
"See you."
With that, Cullen moved towards the back of the great hall. Just before the gaudy, Orlesian-styled throne Vivienne had insisted Amalia accept from a visiting Orlesian noble, he turned right and entered the former cell block that now housed the Inquisition's smithy and arcanist.
"Commander! We've been waiting for you," a perky voice greeted him the moment he entered. "How has the felandaris extract been working? It's really something, isn't it? It's just a potion, of course, which I think is far less interesting than an enchantment, but it is a very interesting herb. The alchemical properties -"
"If you don't pause for even a moment, Dagna, our esteemed Commander will never get a chance to reply," a good-natured drawl interrupted from the corner of the former dungeon. Dorian moved forward from the shadows, donning his usual smirk.
"Good morning, Dagna. Dorian." Cullen inclined his head to the dwarven arcanist and Tevinter mage in turn before turning back towards Dagna. "The extract has been working very well, thank you. I'm told you've agreed to brew more of it should the need arise?"
"I did say I would, but I think Dorian will have to do it, at least to start out with. He's much better at herbs than I am," the arcanist replied, looking at the mage. "I'll learn, of course. It's not too hard; it is only alchemy, after all."
"Well, that certainly puts me in my place," Dorian said wryly. "So, Commander. Have you had a chance to speak with Cassandra yet? Does she still want my head on a pike?"
"She has instructed me to tell you that you are to be reprieved, but only this once." Cullen chuckled quietly. "I would not cross her again, if I were you. We have no shortage of pikes."
"In that case, let us hope she doesn't give me reason to cross her. Then again, my head would look absolutely dashing over the main gate."
"So, can we get to the good part now?" Dagna was almost hopping in place, clearly eager to begin her demonstration. A shiver snaked its way up Cullen's spine - he had almost forgotten he was here to discuss red lyrium… red lyrium, that was currently being kept under the roof of his fortress.
"We're still waiting for -"
Dorian was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open. Amalia swept into the room.
"Hello, love. You're late." Dorian regarded his best friend with a disapproving look.
"I know." Amalia gave no further explanation or apology. Her eyes swept about the room to land on Cullen, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in a small smile. "Good morning," she said, the words directed only at him.
Cullen swallowed the lump rising in his throat. His earlier irritation at her evaporated with just that one look. "Hello," he managed to reply despite his suddenly dry mouth. Her eyes burned into his, and for a moment it was as if they were the only two people in the world. The urge to cross the room to her and take her in his arms was nearly too strong to resist.
Dorian looked back and forth from one of his friends to the other. "You two really are nauseating." Despite his harsh words, his tone was soft with affection. "Shall we begin? Dagna, perhaps you should get out the red lyrium before they start taking their clothes off."
Cullen cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from Amalia. The Inquisitor let out a small laugh and moved to his side, twining her fingers with his extraordinarily casually. He gave her hand a small squeeze in return, not trusting himself to look at her again. Instead, he turned to where Dagna had lifted a steel box inscribed with runes onto her workbench. He, Amalia and Dorian all moved closer.
As he got closer, Cullen's skin started to prickle. He could feel the warped screams of the red lyrium through the thick metal of the box, an angrier, louder version of the lyrium song his body so longed to answer. He stiffened despite himself, and immediately, Amalia started rubbing small, calming circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. He looked at her to find her gazing at him. As their eyes met, she gave him a reassuring smile. Cullen, a slight tinge of pink rising to his cheeks, lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a quick kiss on her palm. He was somehow irrationally calmed by her presence.
Dagna produced an ornate key from the satchel at her belt, twisted it in the lock, and, with an ominous groan, the lid of the chest swung upwards. The silent screams of the red lyrium, now unhindered by the thick metal plating, tore into Cullen's consciousness. His pulse quickened, his blood raced toward the lyrium, its screams echoed in his bones. Cullen took a deep breath to steady himself and instantly regretted it. He could taste it, a familiar mintiness laced with something putrid, like pools of blood slowly draining into the muddied earth after a battle. He clenched his teeth against the bile rising in his throat.
Dagna, too engrossed her project, didn't seem to notice the lack of excitement in her audience. "It's amazing, right? Look how it glows. I actually think it might even be able to communicate somehow. Varric told you that I found out it's tainted, right? Oh, I guess he didn't. Anyway, it's alive."
"Only living things can be tainted. If Dagna is right, and I believe she is, it would mean that lyrium is actually a living organism," Dorian clarified.
"That's… a very disturbing notion." Amalia murmured quietly, still thumbing the back of Cullen's hand in a rhythmic gesture.
Cullen was slowly bringing himself back under control, aided by the soothing warmth of Amalia's hand in his. "Does this help us defeat Samson?"
"Oh, absolutely!" Dagna said brightly. "The Blight kills living things, right? I mean, if you get enough of the taint in there. I was thinking we could use that to overload the armor, maybe by way of a rune or something. It might not kill it, exactly, but I'm confident it would at least stun it for long enough."
"What she means to say," Dorian explained again, "is that we think introducing more taint to Samson's armor could potentially shock it, at least momentarily. Enough for us to get close and capture him."
"You want to throw more red lyrium at Samson?" Cullen could hardly believe his ears. "This is insane."
"Well, not exactly. We want to throw more taint at Samson. But we will achieve that by throwing more red lyrium at him, yes. Dorian has some knowledge regarding containing the taint, and we're currently working on an application of that process to apply to a rune."
"The method you and Alexius used with Felix?" Amalia asked quietly, and Dorian nodded.
Cullen, not knowing who Felix was, was none the wiser for the clarification.
His confusion must have shown on his face, for Dorian turned to him. "I had a… very dear friend. He was inflicted with the taint. His father and I did a lot of research, and we were able to slow down the progression of the illness. Contain it, if you will. Dagna and I are currently at work on a rune that would do the same, contain the taint but weaken it. Then, when it is activated, it would unleash the Blight upon anything that it touches."
"This does not sound like a good plan," Cullen said, even as Amalia nodded beside him, clearly approving of the idea. "This cannot possibly work."
"After some preliminary tests, it seems to work very well!" Dagna exclaimed. "We've tried it. I meant to show you these pieces here" - she pointed to the other side of the box, and Amalia leaned over to peer into it - "which are the ones we've put more taint into. They seem to be inactive, for lack of a better word."
"There's no aura," Amalia observed. She sounded mesmerized. "And they're not glowing. I can't even… I can't feel them. I usually can."
"They don't stay this way for very long. A few hours, a day at the most," Dorian added.
"Is the result reliable?" Amalia asked.
"Quite. Every time we infect the red lyrium with enough of the taint, this happens."
Cullen found he couldn't look directly at the substance. "No. This is too dangerous." After everything they had seen of red lyrium, how could they even be contemplating using it themselves?
"As dangerous as sending Amalia to fight Samson at the height of his power?" Dorian asked slyly, looking from Cullen to the Inquisitor.
"I didn't mean -"
"Hush now. Of course, you didn't." Dorian smirked.
"Leave it, Dorian," Amalia said, the soft warning in her tone effective enough to silence the other mage. She turned towards Dagna, finally releasing Cullen's hand. "When do you think you can have a rune like this finished?"
"A few days after you get us the next batch of red lyrium, if we're lucky. If we're not, a few more weeks."
"We're usually quite lucky, though," Dorian chimed in.
Dagna giggled. "Yes, we are. We're very good."
"We'll leave to find that red lyrium first thing tomorrow, then. I want that rune finished so we can go after Samson the minute Leliana finds him. Will you join us, Dorian? Varric and Blackwall have already agreed to come."
"As much as I would love to run off after you across the countryside, as our gracious Commander once so eloquently stated, I believe it would be better if I remained here this time. Dagna and I work well together. We're making progress even with the few samples we still have left. You might want to take Cassandra. She may have forgiven me, but I think a few days on opposite sides of Ferelden might still be in order."
Amalia chuckled. "An excellent suggestion."
Plans made, the party broke up, with Dagna and Dorian staying behind to poke around with the red lyrium with an excitement that made Cullen's skin crawl. He could tell that Amalia wouldn't have minded staying behind to discuss the rune they were developing, either, but she followed him out of the dungeon nonetheless.
Before they walked out into the center of the great hall, she once again took his hand and pulled him to a stop, out of sight behind a pillar. "I'm sorry," she said abruptly, before he had a chance to say anything. "For not telling you that I've been bringing back red lyrium samples for Dagna to study. I didn't want you to have any more to worry about." She explained, her tone contrite.
"I should have known. I'm in charge of this keep's defenses, and I need to know what goes on here." Cullen had to work to keep the irritation her words had brought back to him out of his voice.
"I know."
"I would have told you not to bring that… stuff here."
"I know. We needed to learn more about it. This was the only way I could think of."
Cullen sighed. "You're right - and I've slept better not knowing about it. But you should trust me enough to be able to tell me these things."
She smiled then, and his irritation melted. "I trust you as an advisor, a friend and… more than that. It was never about that at all. I really just didn't want to burden you." There was no doubting the honesty of her words.
"You cannot jeopardize the the Inquisition's defenses for the sake of my sleep," he said, his tone far softer now.
"That box has been spelled by Dorian, Vivienne and myself, and Dagna has enchanted it specifically to keep everything put into it in… and everyone without a key out. It's perfectly safe. I would not take risks with the safety of the Inquisition."
"Alright, I'm reassured." He returned her smile. "All the same... you'll tell me in the future?"
"I will. I promise," she vowed, perhaps with more fervency than the situation called for. Amalia moved closer to him, and he was suddenly very aware of her hand still grasping his arm. Cullen's breath hitched in his throat.
She reached up, twining her fingers in his hair pulling his face down to meet hers. He captured her lips with his own. His hands found her waist, and he pulled her even closer. She pushed against him in response, backing him into the wall. Her hands roamed his body, from the back of his neck, to his shoulders, down his chest and his stomach, her fingers slowly trailing lower and lower.
Cullen's face flushed at the direction this was taking, and he broke off from her suddenly, breathing raggedly. "Amalia, I…"
"It's okay." She put a finger to his lips with a sly smile. "I'm sorry. I got a little… carried away." Her fingertip lightly trailed across his mouth to find the scar on his upper lip.
"I can't say I… didn't enjoy it, but…" Cullen's breathless voice trailed off in a chuckle.
Amalia laughed. Her hand trailed across his cheek to the back of his head, and she gently grasped the hair on the nape of his neck. "That's always good to hear. I'll let you get back to your work. I know it's torture keeping you away from your reports."
"Amusing." His breath came steadier now, but his pulse still beat in his ears from how close she was.
"Dorian's sense of humor seems to be rubbing off on you."
"I've always had one - I just lost it for a few years. It's coming back to me now." He almost grinned.
"I'm glad." She pulled his face once more down to hers, and their lips met for a brief moment before she released him and stepped back. "I really do have to get to work, though. I have to prepare to ride out tomorrow. I'll hopefully see you before then, Cullen." She turned to go.
"Amalia?"
"Yes?" She looked back over her shoulder.
"Come back safe."
"Don't worry; I always do." She smiled at him once more before disappearing out of sight behind the pillar.
Cullen took a few moments to steady his breath and straighten his hair before also moving out from behind the pillar. A few of the people gathered in the hall leered at him, clearly knowing what had transpired between him and the Inquisitor mere moments ago, but he didn't care. He headed down to the training yard, feeling happier than he had in a long time.
