Only one note this time. There are some families (in my experience they are usually Italian) that believe that if you get the bay leaf when eating something with it, that means you are going to get married. You'll know why I'm mentioning this by the end of this chapter.
oOo
Chapter 52: Raw Feelings
-Secure the area! Someone get a health potion!
Evelyn was frantic, falling on her knees beside Cullen before the red templar could take his last breath. She didn't bother to close the rift, allowing it to consume the stored energy from the anchor until it fell dormant and sealed the rift without her intervention.
-Cullen! Cullen, can you hear me?- She was snaking her arm behind his back, trying to get him to a sitting position while desperately searching for the wound, the cracking and screaming of the rift above them preventing her from hearing anything around her, including what she was begging Cullen to answer. Feeling she had waited for too long already, she suddenly raised her head, looking around frantically.
-Where are those potions?!
It had only been less than a couple of seconds, but to her, the moment he stepped out into the courtyard, was ambushed, fell to the floor, and looked at her while she cradled his body, all felt like an eternity.
-Evey, I'm fine; it was nothing, I...- he tried to get up under his own power, but when he bent his left knee to push himself upright, he felt a gush of blood pour down from under his cloak, now covering the left side of his body, followed closely by a burning pain, making him lose footing and causing another searing pang to crawl up his thigh into his stomach.
Evelyn was already there to catch, though he hadn't yet raised himself off the floor more than a couple of inches.
-Where did it get you?- She ran her hands down his neck and over every section of his body the armor left exposed, searching desperately for the wound. -Where...- She reached his thigh and he flinched, hissing through clenched teeth.
Carefully, she moved his cloak to check his leg, and when she pulled her hand back, it came away red, a river of blood falling to the floor below him nonstop.
-Somebody get potions!- She yelled again, unable to move her eyes from the bleeding gush on his upper thigh. Absently, she listened as Cullen tried to reassure her, minimizing the severity of the situation and telling her it was nothing to worry about, even now trying to protect her as he was bleeding out on the floor.
Pointlessly, she hurriedly rummaged through her bag for potions, fully aware that she had given Blackwall her last one when three templars had surrounded him earlier, but she still tried in vain, hoping that by some marvel she had missed one, or that the Maker had caused another to miraculously appear. None of that happened, though, and with each second, the puddle of blood below him spread.
-We're out, Inquisitor,- came Solas' calm voice from her side, the others searching the area for more hidden enemies. He squatted down next to Cullen and grabbed both sides of the sliced hole in his trousers, tearing the fabric further to view the gash more clearly. -I need to check on the wound before closing it, make sure there's no red lyrium inside, but I cannot do so while it's bleeding.- He pointed toward her. -Tie your sash at the inguinal region. Make it tight.
She did as she was told, clenching her teeth when Cullen couldn't help but hiss from the pain. Then, knowing she couldn't do anything to help the elf, she leaned over the Commander, who was now lying on the floor, and held his hand tightly while Solas poured water over the wound and began inspecting it.
-Don't worry, you'll be alright. I'm here with you,- her voice cracked, her mind praying to every known god, Andrastian and not, to keep him safe.
Cullen turned his head and looked at her to smile through the pain, squeezing the hand she was holding each time Solas poured more water into the wound, which was still bleeding, albeit slowing down. She smiled back, trying to be reassuring even as her brow furrowed each time he clenched his hand, almost as if she could feel his pain. Seeing this, Cullen raised his hand and smoothed the crease in her forehead, resting his own against hers when it didn't work.
She was beginning to calm down, concentrating on his breathing and his eyes that never left hers, when his expression turned glossy and his hand dropped heavily in hers, fingers losing all grip and body relaxing completely.
If it weren't for Solas, she would have panicked the moment Cullen's eyes closed.
-I sent him to sleep to spare him the suffering. I need to search deeper and the process would have been too painful otherwise.- Then, before she could thank him, he opened the wound by tugging it from the sides with his fingers, exposing the severed tissue and searching exhaustively for several minutes until he was certain there was no red lyrium left behind.
From over their shoulders, three pairs of footsteps approached, Blackwall announcing the area was secure. For some time, silence reigned, interrupted only by the sound of Solas' bloodied hands examining the wound, Cullen's quiet groans when the elf got too close to a nerve in his search for red lyrium contamination, and Evelyn's hushed voice, softly mumbling unintelligible nothings while she caressed Cullen's hair lovingly.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Solas spoke.
-It's clean,- he said to no one in particular, and Evelyn raised her face, smiling gratefully. If her gratitude was directed to her friend, the gods, or both, no one could say, and no one cared.
Then, as calmly as ever, Solas looked at the others.
-Varric, I believe there's still a regeneration potion left...
He didn't need to finish the sentence, the dwarf collecting the requested potion and giving it to him faster than any of them would have thought his short legs could move.
-Madame de Fer, if you could lend me a hand, there's a thread and needle in my bag.- Without checking to see if the mage was complying with his request, he once again turned to Evey.
-We only have one potion, so we cannot waste it,- he said, showing her the tiny vial. -I'll need to wake him up briefly to make sure he drinks it all, but even with it, the wound is too deep to close completely on its own. I'll have to sew it. I will lull him back to sleep as soon as I can, but he'll still be in a great deal of pain, especially when the inner tissue begins to heal. I'll need you to stop him from thrashing, Inquisitor, no matter what.
She nodded, and though everyone could see how much she was anguishing, there was a determination in her eyes that would have made Cullen proud.
-Blackwall, Vivienne, get the horses. We'll need to help him ride.- She then turned to the dwarf, who was still standing next to Solas. -Varric, help me out here.
Finally, she took the potion from Solas' hands, uncorked it, and signaled for the elf to begin.
oOo
When Solas woke him up five hours later once they reached camp, Cullen's mind was in shambles.
He remembered he had been stabbed, that Evelyn had rushed to help him, had opened a rift in the sky and had almost demanded the other's assistance. He remembered he had tried to ease her mind, to comfort her, to reassure her that everything was alright.
He remembered it felt as if he were lying to her.
Cullen was a consummated soldier, and as such, he had fought enough battles to recognize when a wound was nothing of concern and when things had turned out less than fortunate. The red templar had stabbed him in the leg, but he had felt how the red lyrium blade had entered almost as far as to reach the other side. He had recognized the telltale warmth of his blood pouring out of him, and the pinpricks in his chest from a heart desperate to pump blood through his body, compensating for what he was losing at an alarming rate. He had felt the red lyrium burning in his flesh as the blade entered, twisted inside, and exited, in the hopes of severing a vital vein that would irremediably send him to his death in a matter of seconds.
But when she had knelt next to him, he had ignored the pain and focused only on her, whispering reassurances, at first confident that this would be only another scar in a few weeks, but then feeling how his body refused to keep him conscious and praying to the Maker that he would not part from this world having lied to her.
Now he sat by the fire having dinner with everyone after Solas woke him up again, and he understood what that feeling of falling into oblivion had been. He should have known; he had been struck by a sleep spell before, but in that moment, he had feared he would die, and for the first time in his life, he realized death was no longer something that didn't concern him. He wanted to live, he wanted to see this through, to be able to leave this fight behind and explore what he had found at her side, hoping against all odds, that it would lead to a life together.
Strangely enough, he was grateful for what happened, because as dinner was served, he felt her hand reaching for his, their fingers interlacing, not exactly in full view of everyone but not hiding it either. They were sitting in the dirt, she with her legs crossed and he keeping the wounded one stretched to avoid unnecessary pressure on the healing flesh. Their hands rested between their legs, and it wasn't that difficult to see how they had found each other in the night, as if with that simple contact, they could reassure one another that they were together and safe again.
In other circumstances, some or all their companions would have teased them incessantly for that open display of affection, but what they all had endured in the Shrine apparently altered their perspectives to ones of comprehension and complicity. In fact, both Cullen and Evey felt their companions' eyes resting in turns over their joined hands, but they had either smiled candidly, or just turned to face another way, as if nothing of consequence was happening.
And, thinking clearly, perhaps they were not surprised at all. Andraste knew they had tried to be subtle, but even their first kiss so long ago in the battlements had eventually been on everyone's minds, despite that it was short lived. Sebastian's arrival had turned the rumor into nothing beyond gossip without credibility, each day making it resemble more of a fable than a plausible possibility, thanks to what seemed like a blossoming relationship between the Herald and the Prince.
But now they knew, and in that moment, Cullen didn't care what they would do with that information once they reached Skyhold.
-How are you feeling, Commander?- Vivienne's voice broke the silence. -The new healing potion won't be ready until tomorrow morning, but we've been resting for hours now, so I presume Solas shall heal you before you retire for the night.
Leave it to Vivienne to distribute chores without even consulting with the receivers of said tasks. At least this time she had the decency of looking at Solas, as if asking for his confirmation. The elf, as it was expected, nodded his agreement. After all, he had promised on their way back to camp, while Cullen still laid unconscious, that he would heal him as soon as his mana felt replenished once again.
-The wound doesn't bother me that much now, thank you for asking.
Evey's hand squeezed his.
-You missed being nicked in the femoral artery by half an inch, Commander,- stated Solas in a clinical, almost detached tone, completely in contrast with Varric's enthusiasm a second later.
-Hey! Curly's our new good luck charm!
Evey rolled her eyes and was about to argue with Varric's logic when Blackwall beat her to it.
-How lucky can he be?! He was stabbed in the leg!
-Well, I think he's luckier than any of us, now.- And he threw a short but significant look at Cullen and Evey's hands, only to then morph his face to one of complete innocence. -I mean, did you hear Chuckles, here? He could be dead.
-Or we could, if he had not gone out first,- Vivienne calmly added.
-My point exactly.
-I know dear, I was merely illustrating it.
Vivienne sounded, as always, proper but smug, but her eyes shone differently, as if there was something brewing inside that head of hers, a look that was too much like the one she'd had when Sera found the snake in her tent. Sadly, the veiled warning from the Enchanter went unnoticed by Cullen and Blackwall, the only two men present who would have recognized the look from when they were traveling to the Western Approach.
In that moment, Solas took something out of his mouth, grimacing.
-Varric… did you put peanuts in the stew?
-Hey! Look at that! So Chuckles is the one getting married. I would have thought our Inquisitor would get it!
He wiggled his eyebrows toward Evey, but not even then did her grip on Cullen's hand fail. Instead she just smiled at him, nonplussed.
-And here I thought you'd be the first to get married. It's about time you made an honest crossbow out of Bianca.
Everyone but Vivienne began to laugh in some measure at that, their voices raising from the guffaws of Blackwall, to the subtle chuckle from Solas, the warden's bowl falling from his legs when he stomped the ground. Varric, being the good sport that he was, joined in and soon they were all feeling the exhaustion left on their shoulders from the emotional day behind them.
Vivienne and Solas, whom had silently chose to share a tent after they saw Evelyn's reaction to Cullen's wound, were the first to take watch, and as such the only ones that remained once everyone had retired shortly thereafter, but not before they helped the elf and the Enchanter build a small refuge between two trees, where they could sit under a waxed tarp to shelter from the rain that the storm clouds above them portended. And it wasn't a moment too soon, for only a minute after everyone else retired, both mages began to feel the first pattering sounds of rain drops falling over the tarp.
That same hypnotic rhythm that was lulling Blackwall to the Fade and Varric to his blissful dreamless night, was also accompanying Cullen and Evey while they prepared to sleep. Solas had just left them after healing Cullen's wound once again and loosely bandaging it to allow him some movement during the night. In consequence, Cullen was now dressed only in a clean shirt and undergarments, folding his clothes and piling his armor in a corner to prevent it from being a nuisance during the night. By the time he finished and turned toward her, she was also dressed for the night in a thin shirt and underwear, though he could perfectly see she had removed her breast band thanks to the slightly transparent fabric.
Almost immediately his heart began to pound, just as it usually did when they were alone, its beating practically forcing him closer to her until his lips touched the naked skin where her shirt had fallen, leaving her upper shoulder exposed along with part of her back. Her response was instantaneous, bending her neck to the right, allowing him more room to roam freely to the column of her neck, until he was nuzzling behind her ear. His hand raised to her upper arm, holding her tight as if with that he could rein in his faltering self control, whilst her own hand rose to hold him at the back of his neck, preventing him from moving away, something that had never crossed his mind once in that moment. In fact, when her fingers touched the short hairs at the nape of his neck, his whole body responded, growing nearer to her, his chest pressing against her back, his pelvis touching her bottom, one of his legs draping around her, the other one (the wounded one) stretching at her side. It didn't take long before his left hand enveloped her waist until it reached her right side, all her frame surrounded by his strong arm, making her moan his name softly, barely a whisper above the pattering sounds of the rain that grew with each second, but that reached him nevertheless, traveling the short distance from her lips to his ears, filling him with a warmth and a hunger that was quickly invading him, making him forget about the fear, about the pain and the suffering, about the responsibilities and the world beyond the tent, for she was in his arms, and nothing could mean more than the feeling of her slowly surrendering to his kisses.
Before either could even think about it, she was lying on her back with him resting on his side next to her, his lips engaged in more passionate explorations, roaming lower to her clavicle, while hers chanted unintelligible things that from time to time sounded just like his name.
Somewhere in his mind a voice told him that he shouldn't be pushing things, that he should stop and take comfort in the fact that they were together, safe. But when one of her hands snaked below the open neck of his shirt and the other did the same from below, both beginning to explore his back avidly and pressing his body against hers while feeling ever muscle contracting and relaxing as his mouth traveled to her neck and back down, following the shape of her shoulders, kissing every part of her skin that had been exposed by their movements but nothing beyond, he could not help but raise his own hand, still resting on her waist, until his fingers grazed the contour of her right breast over her shirt, not quite reaching but teasing it with his proximity, his other hand still caressing her neck softly while his arm held his weight away from her body.
Her right hand then abandoned its explorations, and rose to where his still rested close to her breast. For the split of a second, Cullen thought he had gone too far, and that she was about to stop him from taking things any further, so he reluctantly retreated from the passionate kiss his wandering lips had initiated just a second ago and looked at her, searching for any signs of discomfort or doubt. But instead of holding his advances, of telling him they should stop, she raised her head, her mouth chasing his even as her hand led his to finally rest over her breast.
After that, Cullen felt his whole world spin and, resting just enough of his weight over part of her body, he began to caress her while he kissed her more passionately than he had ever done before, inwardly thanking the Maker that the rain outside, now a full storm, was hiding the delicious sounds she was making from any ears save his own.
Her hand, now free to roam, resumed her explorations, lifting the left side of his shirt up nearly to his arm, only to lower it again, taking a turn to his taut stomach and getting dangerously close to where he needed her most, eliciting the most erotic and primal sound from his lips, one that, while his mouth was busy kissing her neck, sounded like a mixture between a moan and a growl that lit her body completely and irrevocably.
Now her leg had snaked between his, pressing up against him, and his moved to do the same, his body growing closer to her, positioning himself over her lying form, about to press down on her and feel every single inch of her body touching his.
It was in that moment, though, that his wound complained, blood pouring out of it even through the stitches, the strain in his leg opening newly formed tissue and staining the bandages. A sharp stab of pain traveled up his thigh, lighting his nerves with another, less pleasurable feeling that quickly replaced the desire she had stirred. Unfortunately, he faltered, falling on his side and away from her.
-I'm sorry. Are you alright? Let me see it.
In less time than it took him to lay at her side, Evelyn had already sat up and was inspecting Cullen's bandages. When she saw the white linen was now red, she cringed.
-Oh, Cullen, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...
He caught her hand before she could unravel his bandages, and kissed it.
-My fault. I put too much weight on it, but it barely bled.- Her eyes were still focusing on his leg with a guilty look, so Cullen took her chin with his other hand and lifted her head until she looked at him. -I'm not sorry it happened, and neither should you be.
When she was unable to say anything else, he kissed her again, softly at first, but gradually taking them down the same path they had abandoned just a moment ago. It was only when Cullen's mouth left hers and began to wander to her neck that she pushed him back.
-Cullen, your leg,- she warned.
For a second, Cullen almost dropped his eyes down to see what she meant, his mind already too far gone to even care about the wound, but then he chuckled and pressed his forehead against her naked shoulder, sighing.
-You're right,- he admitted, his lips caressing her skin with each word. -We should sleep.- He raised his head to look at her, his left hand caressing her neck now.
Evey, in turn, placed her hand over his knee and smiled.
-Do you mind if we switch places?- He raised his eyebrow questioningly. -I don't want to hurt you while I'm sleeping if I get too close.
She left out that she didn't want to be unable to get close, which would have been another solution, but they both understood the underlying meaning of her request. So, taking her by the waist, and without really caring if she kicked him in the leg while in the air, Cullen lifted her and placed her on his right, immediately taking her with him when he laid down.
Evey laughed at the sudden reaction, but when they were both lying down, she moved closer, placing her head over his chest, hearing his heart beating below her ear, and hugged his waist like she had suddenly feared he would disappear.
At first, Cullen thought she was just getting ready to sleep, but when he heard her breathing falter, he tried to draw her away to look at her, finding she refused vehemently to let him go even for the short amount of time that it took to raise her head and look at him.
-Evey, what is it, my sweet?
Her hands only tightened around his body and her back shook in the convulsions of a telltale rhythm. She was trying not to cry out loud.
Knowing this had been an emotional day for both of them, he kept quiet, softly caressing her back up and down, trying to sooth her.
-I was so afraid... I thought…
-Shhh…- This time, she allowed him to tilt her head up, so he softly kissed her lips, his eyes showing all the things he was not ready to voice yet. -I know, I was afraid too.- He didn't tell her his fear laid mainly in the idea of losing the chance to build a life together, of never seeing her again. -But I'm here now. I'm with you.
The fact that those words were almost identical to what she had whispered to him after finding him battling with his withdrawal on the floor of his bedroom, made Cullen feel at peace. She had taken care of him when he most needed her, when his fears and doubts had plagued him, and even though he had done the same for her after Adamant, somehow this time felt different. This was not the Inquisitor doubting her competence in the field. This was Evey trying to dispel the fear of losing someone dear to her, and by some miracle which could only be a product of the Maker Himself, that dear person was none other than him.
Slowly, between kisses and soft whisperings, sleep claimed them both, putting all the world on hold, if only for that night.
oOo
Sadly, the world was waiting for them the next morning, nervously tapping its feet on the floor and ready to throw in their faces all the things they had put aside last night.
As expected, the healing potion was ready when they woke up early in the morning, the first sunrays slipping through tiny holes in the old tarp.
The hour, though, surprised both Cullen and Evey when they realized nobody had awakened them to take their places on guard shift. Apparently, their companions had decided that the Commander would benefit from an uninterrupted night of sleep, and though nobody eluded to the fact that Evelyn had also been spared from the duty, their looks spoke volumes. After all, considering what had happened the day before, to expect that none of their companions had noticed how close Evelyn and Cullen had become would resemble hoping that someone in Thedas had not seen the giant green hole in the sky.
Still, nobody, not even Varric uttered a word, most of them apparently more interested in how Cullen's wound was faring than anything else, though eventually Evey noticed a special glint in the dwarf's eyes which warned her that, not far from then, she and Cullen would be the incessant target of endless teasing.
Yet that morning, both Blackwall and Varric had something else to worry about, for the moment Solas announced Cullen's leg was almost healed, save for a lingering discomfort that would soon disappear, the Warden and the storyteller began to feel something crawling under their skin, only to run toward the creek a second later, throwing pieces of armor as they went, screaming that something was very wrong.
It was Vivienne's tilting laugh and malicious look which told them that whatever was ailing them had nothing to do with their surroundings, and all to do with cold, delightful vengeance. The running duo, though, only realized what was happening when Madame de Fer's suggestion reached them:
-Perhaps some peanut ointment might help?
Save for that unexpected, yet extremely amusing episode, the rest of the journey was uneventful, the weight of their responsibilities falling progressively over them with each new camp they broke where their soldiers were eagerly waiting both to begin their journey back home, and to deliver the reports and news they had been receiving from Skyhold since the last time they saw the Commander and the Inquisitor.
But the real burden came when they entered the fortress. At first, everything was normal: the guard blew the horn when they were in sight, and some soldiers and stable boys waited for them to help with everything they might need. As usual, Vivienne dismounted and graciously walked inside, already savoring the idea of a lengthy scented bath and a hot meal in the privacy of her new quarters, while Varric and Blackwall went directly to Herald's Rest to share a few drinks and probably plan their next move in the war that Madame de Fer had declared with her rash spell. Evey walked with Cullen to the stables, the Commander following her with the excuse of looking after his horse to try to steal another moment with her before their duties separated them again. Sadly, it didn't take long. They had barely unsaddled their mounts when Cullen's courier entered the stables asking for the Commander, leaving him no other choice but to bid the Inquisitor farewell, but not without sending her a meaningful look that promised he would do the impossible to find a moment to be alone with her before the day ended.
Not fifteen minutes later, Evelyn left the stables following Cole's desperate voice. The spirit was chasing Solas down the main stairs, stopping in the courtyard, begging the mage to bind him to protect him from the possibility of Corypheus using him against his friends, as he had done with the Wardens in Adamant. Later, Solas would tell her that this obsession was sadly not new. Apparently, the spirit had dwelled on this ever since they had returned from the Western Approach, the bone chilling possibility of betrayal against his will keeping the poor boy constantly on edge. Naively, Solas had thought he could persuade the spirit, denying him his request while trying to calm his worries, telling him the chance of losing himself to the binding was more pressing than the slight possibility of Corypheus using him to harm the Inquisition. In fact, all were in danger of being controlled by the magister. The Wardens were not spirits of the Fade, and that had not stopped the darkspawn from using them. Chances were that Corypheus wouldn't use the same old trick after just how well the Battle of the Approach had turned out for him. Cole, though, did not feel the same, fear taking control of the spirit almost as much as he feared Corypheus would, even to the point of going to Alexius for the information that Solas had denied, hoping that by doing so he would stop the spirit from making a decision that could lead Cole to lose himself.
But no matter how much they tried, how long they stayed back to calm him down, nothing worked... Until Solas suggested Evey use the Inquisition's resources to search for an Amulet of the Unbound. That calmed Cole down, at least until they could find said talisman. However, Evelyn feared how the boy might react if it turned out that a month from now, they didn't have answers to the whereabouts of the Rivaini amulets. Still, that was a concern for later, so after she went to the rookery to ask Leliana to send urgent orders to look for the talisman, she went to her room to disappear behind the piles of reports.
The opportunity to escape came four hours later, when the sun was already hiding behind the horizon, and a knock on her door distracted her from a letter from the Grand Cleric of the Ostwick Chantry, whom wrote to personally thank her for a donation that Evey suspected her mother had sent in her name and the Inquisition's. She would probably have to write to Lady Trevelyan now; she knew better than to ignore her mother.
She called for whomever was knocking to come in, and a moment later, Cullen's courier was standing in front of her.
-Inquisitor, Commander Cullen asks if you'd be so kind as to accompany me to his office.
Evelyn schooled her face to look kind, and not at all ecstatic.
-Certainly. Just give me a moment.
After she put the letter away in her personal drawer to read it carefully later, she followed the messenger to Cullen's office, knowing he probably had news on what they had found in the Shrine, but hoping he was also summoning her for more personal reasons. They hadn't talked about what happened at the camp the last night they shared a tent, and after so many days staying away from each other to save appearances with the soldiers, she was beginning to get anxious about it. She had thought he was hoping to see her alone when he left her in the stables, but what if she had misunderstood his look? What if he had second thoughts? It hadn't looked like it that night, but that had been more than a week ago, and with time, her uncertainty was gaining ground over confidence. And she hated that.
Once they reached the office, though, all her doubts flew over the window when Cullen raised his eyes to greet her. Even in the presence of his messenger, his smile had left little doubt that he was as eager to see her as she had been. Then, almost as if he had noticed his courier standing next to her for the first time, he greeted her as he had always done, only to then let his smile fade under a new command to the soldier.
-Ah, thank you for coming Inquisitor.- Turning to the messenger, he instructed, -Please tell Dagna we are ready for her now.
The woman left the office immediately, and Cullen's smile resurfaced just as quickly as the door closed behind the soldier.
Instead of walking to her, he merely extended his hand toward her, holding it in the air for her to take and stand beside him behind the desk. When she did precisely that, he leaned slowly to kiss her lips softly.
With one week between them and their last stolen moment, it was unsurprising that the chaste kiss turned into anything but in less time than it took both hearts to speed up. When they parted, they did so harshly after a sudden gust of wind beat against the western door, which was apparently slightly ajar until then, violently closing it.
Both jumped where they stood, only to laugh nervously later when they realized even after all that happened, they were still paranoid of being discovered. For a moment, Evelyn considered breaching the subject, if anything to know whether he was expecting to stretch this secrecy for much longer. She remembered how he had asked her to keep things between them for a while after they had their first kiss, but so much had happened since then that she could not be sure if he was still of the same mind, or if something had changed for him, too. After all, she could not in good conscience judge him by his reaction just then, when she had also jumped out of her skin like a pair of adolescents stealing kisses behind the Chantry after mass... Not that she had done that... Lately.
Blushing at memories that had no place in this moment, she wavered too long before speaking, and Cullen beat her to the punch, clearing his throat before beginning to debrief her.
-I've been reading reports from all over our posts for the better part of the last four hours,- he took one of the papers and showed it to her. -The red lyrium deposits are being destroyed, and we've cut the red templars down to the core.- The excitement in his voice faltered then. -It's a pity that Maddox thought his sacrifice was the only answer.
She couldn't help it, and when she saw his eyes clouding over with the memory of the tranquil, she placed her hand over his on the desk, and he turned it to lace their fingers together, squeezing hers reassuringly before continuing to explain.
-Still, that leaves Samson with a severely curtailed army, and enchanted armor he can't maintain.- He raised his eyes to her, smiling warmly. -You did it.
-We both fought to make this happen. You were even injured doing it, so stop selling yourself short.- She squeezed his hand as well, answering to the need of feeling him respond to her touch, reassuring her that he was fine now, the wound closed and the fright behind them.
-I... Thank you.- For a second, he seemed about to lean in and kiss her again, but then he lowered his eyes to the papers. -But my work's not done yet.
Softly, he disentangled their hands and searched for one document in particular.
-We're getting recruits by the hour.- When he found what he was looking for, he showed it to her and Evelyn noticed it had the Templar Order's sigil on it. -There's more than a few ex templars among them.- Then he lowered the letter and turned toward her, taking both her hands again.-We've struck a blow and given people hope,- he smiled. -This is a true victory.
He brushed the back of his hand over her cheeks, caressing her and taking a few seconds to look at her tenderly.
-I wanted to tell you something else, too, before Dagna arrives.
He paused for a short moment, one that in other circumstances, Evelyn would have allowed to pass naturally, but fearful that his courier would come back with the arcanist anytime now, she urged him on.
-Yes?
As if he needed to keep himself busy, he released her hands and took yet another report, this time without showing it to her.
-We have some dealings in Ferelden. I was hoping you might accompany me.- Then he rushed to clarify, -I know we've just come back, but I believe if we take the main road and some fast horses, it shouldn't take us more than four days.- He raised his eyes nervously. -When you can spare the time, of course.
After the confidence Cullen had shown the last time they were alone, Evey worried about this change of spirits now.
-Is something wrong?
-What,- answered Cullen raising his head as if she had asked something outlandish. -No! I...- He fidgeted with his hands, visibly agitated, then sighed and dropped them to his sides, finally looking at her directly. -I would rather explain there. If you wish to go.
The look on his face, expectantly and vulnerable, made her heart melt.
-I believe we could go tomorrow, then.
His smile almost lit the room, and his relieved sigh added to her curiosity.
-I'll make the necessary arrangements.
He had barely voiced the last word when the door opened to reveal Dagna entering in a haste, her eyes glinting more excitedly than normal while holding a red gleaming rune in her hand.
-Inquisitor, I finished it!- She briefly looked at Cullen and back to Evey again. -Oh, were you talking? Sorry.- And then, without so much as a pause to breathe, she shrugged, -Have it anyhow.
After that, she threw herself into one of her usual passionate speeches, this time about what she had managed to build with Maddox's tools and some red lyrium, and something about the rune acting on a median fissures of lyrium to do whatever she was willing to disclose before Cullen glared at her silently, warning her not to beat around the bush and cut right to the chase, sparing the Inquisitor (and himself) the subtleties of her design.
Dagna effectively ended any intention the Commander might have had of stopping her by claiming an explanation was crucial to avoiding any undesired effects that might harm the Inquisitor, or any of her companions. She managed to take Evey with her to show her how she had built the rune and, according to her, explained how she should properly handle it to obtain the best results.
An hour later, Evey left the undercroft feeling a little overwhelmed. The rune's basics were pretty simple, actually, and as she had feared, Dagna was more interested in talking about her investigation and the sources she had consulted to make the rune than in any kind of precautions she should have while handling it, even going as far as admitting she had used that excuse to "save her from an hour listening to the Commander talk about the troups" and taking her to do something more exciting. The fact that what Dagna found exciting usually made other people's head throb in pain was something that never crossed the small arcanist's mind, nor was the fact that even as she talked about some dwarf named Sandal who could make runes twice as powerful in half the time and had apparently assisted Hawke during his years in Kirkwall, Evelyn was having a hard time thinking of anything other than her and Cullen's upcoming trip to Ferelden.
