She couldn't stop crying. The mental dam she had kept in place for the last few months had finally broken, and the depth of her sorrow, exhaustion, and frustration had released itself against her will. Evelyn clutched his mantle desperately, trying to feel the fur through her gloves, wishing she could feel its comforting softness. He was stroking her back, slowly, almost as if he wasn't sure how to do it properly. No matter how much she tried to, she couldn't stop sobbing.
Her world suddenly shifted as she felt him move, and then one of his arms was under her legs and she felt him pull her off the bench into his arms. He was carrying her, as he had the night he carried her through Haven when she'd been attacked by a drunk. The rocking motion of his steps soothed her and she managed to stop sobbing so uncontrollably, the tears instead falling down her cheeks accompanied by little hiccoughs and tiny gasps as she tried to catch her breath.
The icy air was biting on her wet face as he carried her across the battlements, avoiding the courtyard and its bustling inhabitants. The twilight provided them with enough cover so that she hoped anyone who might look up wouldn't recognize who it was he carried. One of her hands was still holding on to his mantle as she rested her head on his shoulder; she felt herself unable to let go of the comfort she found gripping onto the fur. Evelyn managed to look ahead of them and saw that he was taking one of the back ways into the keep, still trying to keep her away from the gaze of any onlookers by avoiding the populated areas.
She closed her eyes again and snuggled her cheek against where it rested, her tears still streaming unheeded onto the fabric and fur of his mantle. Evelyn didn't even wonder where he was taking her, and instead just let him carry her where he may, comforted by his strong arms holding her. She almost wished he'd never stop walking, continue with no destination in mind, just so long as he held her this way.
A soft voice sounded near them, asking Cullen a question, and he responded in a deep murmur. Evelyn didn't try to make out the words or figure out who it was. The fog of her crying blocked out everything beyond the safe haven of the arms around her. She felt him nudge a door open and he began to mount a staircase slowly, and she finally opened her eyes to look at where they were. He was carrying her into her quarters, and he approached the bed and set her gently upon its edge.
Cullen stayed close, kneeling in front of her, and he reached down and softly began to tug her leather slippers from her feet. Her hand was still holding on to his mantle, unwilling to let go of him. He set her shoes by the bed and pulled one glove off of her before he gently tugged her fingers from his mantle and removed the other. As soon as he took it off of her, she grabbed the fur again. He set aside the gloves and lifted his fingers to the fastenings of her cloak next. She watched him as he focused on his task, admiring his face this close to hers, taking in details she'd never noticed. She closely examined the golden stubble on his jaw, the scar at the corner of his lips. She wondered how he'd gotten it; she'd never heard him speak of it, and she hadn't thought to ask.
He lifted her to her feet gently to remove her cloak and pull the sheets of the bed back. "Get in, Evelyn, you should try to get some sleep," he murmured, and he tried to remove her fingers from where she still clung to him. She tightened her grip, not wanting him to go.
"No, please -" she started crying harder once more. She took a step toward him and buried her face against his chest again, his armor hard and cold against her forehead.
"Evelyn -" he was trying to push her back, toward the bed, encouraging her to get under the covers. She refused to budge.
"Don't leave me alone - please, Cullen," she begged. She sobbed and wouldn't let him direct her to the bed. She didn't want to be alone. She just wanted him to keep holding her. She had felt better when he carried her, she had almost stopped crying. If he left she knew her sobs wouldn't stop.
He stiffened for a moment and stopped trying to guide her back to the bed. Slowly his hands reached to her arms and he pulled her back so that he could look down into her face. His brow was furrowed, he almost looked pained, but his eyes roamed over her tear streaked cheeks and he gave a small, jerky nod. She loosened her grip finally and let him guide her to the bed now that he had consented to stay. He pulled her gently by the hand and sat upon the bed, leaning back against the headboard with one knee crossed beneath him, the other foot remaining on the ground. She crawled onto the bed and pressed herself against his chest, her cheek taking up its former place on the fur mantle, her legs pulled up so that she was completely encircled in his arms. He was so much bigger than she was, and she curled herself against him, in his lap as she perched on his thigh, seeking whatever warmth and comfort she could find despite the armor between them. Evelyn let herself keep crying, her eyes closed, and occasionally she snuggled her face against him, wiping her cheeks on the fur that smelled like leather and smoke.