All of the Inquisitor's inner circle stood surrounding the war table and not one looked comfortable there. Cullen couldn't say he felt any differently from them.

Most of them like Dorian, Varric, Bull and Blackwall, simply nervously shifted every so often. Cole looked the worst of them all, with his face looking somehow more gauntl and his beady eyes sinking further into his skull than usual. Cullen could only imagine how miserable he must be in this situation, if what he said was true. Feeling her pain, absorbing everyone else's anxiety. He tried his best to push the thought away, he had no more room in his heart for other miseries.

Vivienne, Leliana, and Cassandra held themselves together better than the rest, as he had come to expect from them.

He was….not well.

Cassandra had helped pull himself out of his head for some time, and he was thankful for it.

He had told her about the terribly awkward way this whole thing had started, how the Inquisitor had caught him with those drawings, how she had teased him about having them. It seemed so long ago now…

If Cassandra had asked him how this had started at any other time, he wasn't sure he would have told her. No, scratch that. He knew he wouldn't have. The embarrassment would have likely killed him.

But he didn't have enough sense to feel embarrassment right now.

When he was alone in his tower, all he felt was dread. After Cassandra arrived, that dread lightened ever so slightly when they spoke of the Inquisitor. It helped him to remember just how spirited she was, and he knew that better than anyone by now. Everything he had given her during their game, she had thrown right back.

Now as they all stood around the war table, looking to Solas as he entered the room, Cullen felt numb.

The Fereldan Circle and Kirkwall had both taken him by surprise. He was too young and naive to think the circle would fall like that, and he never thought Meredith would go so far…

He knew more now. Knew how bad this world could really be…

And so, yes, he felt numb as Solas approached the war table; all eyes turning to him as he came to a stop. It was the only way he might have a chance at holding it together if…

"Let's not waste any time, Solas" Cassandra spoke.

Solas gave a curt nod. "She is stable, but she will need time to heal… For now, we can be sure her heart was not pierced, otherwise she would have bled out after we removed the arrow, no matter how quickly we moved." Cullen tried to imagine they were discussing someone else, anyone else, a stranger, a nobody…

"I do not believe that any major vessels were pierced, either." Solas reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out the two halves of the arrow, tossing one onto the table and holding the other before him. "My greatest worry as of now is that the arrow was barbed."

Varric stepped closer, picking up the half that laid on the table. "Barbed arrows were supposed to have been outlawed in Thedas."

Cassandra spoke up, "You expect the Venatori to care what has been outlawed or not?"

Solas grew more fatigued looking by the second, he clearly had little patience for discussion. "The barbs did not sever her vessels outright, but there may still be damage to them; tiny scratches or stretching to the vessels, and certainly a good bit of swelling."

Cullen saw Cole clutch his chest and close his eyes. Varric placed his hand on Cole's shoulder and whispered something, Cole slowly straightened and opened his eyes. Cullen tried to ignore them.

"Currently, she is sedated and I would suggest she remain that way for the next few days." Leliana took a step forward towards the table, placing her hands down upon it and leaning over.

The room was dead quiet as Solas continued, "The damage I mentioned - the possible cuts and certain swelling - it would be a bigger concern if she were awake. As he is now, her heartbeat is slow and steady. Were she to awaken, even just the pain and the stress would cause her heart to inevitably beat faster and erratically, and for all we know, cause one of these tears to open. Any movement is out of the question, regardless of how minimal."

"I assume you healed her as much as you could with magic?" Cullen asked, finding his voice.

"Yes, but there is only so much magic can truly do. Magic can mend flesh, close wounds, stop bleeding. Only time can strengthen that work, make it lasting." Solas folded his hands behind his back as he sometimes did, though the movement felt labored this time.

Cassandra stepped forward and spoke to the room, "Thank you, Solas. So the immediate danger has passed?" Solas gave a nod in response. "Then we have only to wait. Everyone please clear the room, save for Cullen, Leliana, Josephine and myself. Should there be any developments….you all will be notified."

It didn't take long for all of the Inquisitor's inner circle to leave, and Josephine was the first to speak, "We should limit all traffic through the infirmary for now, we do not want word of the Inquisitor's condition to spread. We all know how gossip can get out of hand, Orlais will be speaking of her deathbed if we let this out of Skyhold. And of course we cannot allow word of a weakened Inquisitor to somehow reach Corypheus. I will clear her schedule of any inconveniences and simply say she is out protecting Thedas, as she always is." Josephine seemed uneasy, everyone did, but she was ever focused on her job.

Leliana spoke, "I will have my people spread the word that the infirmary is undergoing some upgrades to stave off any suspicion, and set up a temporary one in the main hold."

Cullen was staring at the war map before him when all eyes fell on him. He could feel them watching him, but he couldn't find it in him to look up. He felt like everything had been drained out of him.

Cassandra knew about his relations with the Inquisitor, and he was willing to bet Leliana was the source of that knowledge, so it was natural that Josephine knew as well.

He felt Josephine's hand on his back, pulling him out of his daze long enough to look down at her. Leliana spoke softly, "If you need to step away…"

Cullen shook his head. "Do we-" he stopped to clear his throat before continuing, "What do we know about the ambush?"

Leliana took a moment to respond, her typically cold face full of concern. That look of compassion slowly faded as she sighed. Cullen realized that she was numbing herself just as he was. He imagined that being the Nightingale, she was probably better at that than most.

"As we all know, she was on her way back to Skyhold. She has been traveling back from the Graves for a matter of days now, apparently having a few slow downs helping locals along the way. The new information I've gathered so far is this: when the Inquisitor left the last camp before reaching Skyhold, she refused the use of my forward scouts."

Cullen's brow furrowed as Leliana continued, "My scouts say she seemed eager to return, and did not want to wait for them to scout ahead and report back, as it would have led into the early morning hours."

Cullen shook his head, "Why didn't she just wait until morning and spent the night at the camp in that case? Why push on so recklessly?" Cullen could feel his face reddening.

Leliana's voice was flat and cold, as if she were speaking of a fiction, "My scouts did not ask. They offered to scout ahead, the Inquisitor refused and pushed on. We know what happened from there."

Cullen felt himself take a deep breath, but felt no calmer for it. He walked past Leliana as calmly as he could manage, and crossed the room quickly, taking long strides.

If they knew about his relationship with the Inquisitor, then they would forgive him this tantrum.

He pushed the door open with little effort, his stride not even breaking with the movement. He didn't bother closing it behind him and continued down the hallway and Josephine's office until he found himself out in the main hall.

He could feel the heat of his cheeks and the tension in his shoulders.

The hall was mostly empty, but didn't hold the solidarity he knew he needed right now. He turned, marched partly down the main hall and pushed through the door that led to the garden and closed it behind himself.

Immediately, he was met with darkness.

There were few candles lit along the perimeter of the garden, their small flames mere interruptions in the blackness. The majority of the light came from the moon, which was still not much light to speak of.

He found himself along the stone corridor which surrounded the garden, and moved to lean against the railing.

The moonlight was pale and the air was cold, and for that he was grateful.

The red he saw was washed out by the white light of the moon, diluting his anger somewhat. The coolness in the air helped the warmth of his cheeks.

Although nothing could soothe the ache in his shoulders. He had been tense ever since he laid eyes on her injured form.

He felt his grip on the railing grow tighter as he thought of her voice begging them to pull the arrow from her chest.

Heat was spreading through him once again, bringing with it the rage he'd felt as Leliana recounted her intel.

The Inquisitor was up against likely unimaginable danger - they all were. This was undeniable.

She could be ambushed at any time, regardless of how prepared she was, or how many of his soldiers he sent with her, which of Josephine's allies promised aid or how much intel Leliana could gather. Corepheus' forces were an unknown; no matter how much they knew today, it could very well be different tomorrow.

But to have resources at your disposal, resources meant to keep her safe-

And she doesn't use them?

He made a disgusted noise, he couldn't hold it in, and there was no reason to. He couldn't understand-

"One more night, just one more night staying at a camp and you could've…" He released his grip on the railing and turned away, "You would've been fine." His voice sounded like a whispering hiss, interrupting the silence of the garden.

He distinctly remembered asking her as she had mounted up to leave to please be careful. Yet in the very last few miles of the way back, she throws caution to the wind and manages to almost die just outside of Skyhold.

He was furious with her and yet felt guilty for being angry at her when she was lying unconscious in the infirmary with a fucking hole in her chest.

Maker, his head hurt.

Cullen stepped out into the garden, and the light breeze attempted to cool him further as he walked. As he reached a bench in the center of the garden, and without planning to, Cullen began to pace.

He felt so many conflicting emotions at once, and every time he felt on in particular, he thought it was the wrong one to feel. He was relieved she was okay, but furious at her recklessness, and disappointed she made such a poor decision. His heart was broken and mended all at once thinking how he would get to see her smile again soon, but knowing it might be in danger at any moment during this war against Corypheus.

Then he was furious all over again that an ambush would happen so close to their walls, that the scouts hadn't insisted on going on ahead or at least accompanying the party back to Skyhold.

Of course, he was not fool enough not to realize that a scout would have a hard time denying an order from the Inquisitor, but that was-

He let out a deep breath and slumped down onto the bench he had been pacing beside. Bringing his elbows to rest on his thighs, Cullen stared at the ground beneath his boots as he rubbed his temples.

He once heard Cole say something about thoughts "being too loud," and he understood what he had meant now.

Cullen had felt this way many times after the Fereldan circle, after Kirkwall….

He usually just thought of it as being stressed, overwhelmed, or anxious. It was nice thinking of it in a softer way: he wasn't being anxious, he was being-

"Too loud." he whispered to himself, closing his eyes and letting his head rest in his palms.

A cool breeze blew through the garden once more and for the first time that night, he felt a shiver run across his skin from the cold. He could hear the sound of the trees and plants rustling around him, felt his shirt shifting over his skin with the breeze. He heard the distant sound of a whistle, the signal that the watch on the walls was changing to the next shift.

He tried his best not to think about what time it must be, instead he forced himself to listen to the trees around him just a little longer.

Before long, he opened his eyes, finding the garden and sky brighter than they were before.

Maker, but I love her.

He reached into his pants pocket, pulling out an old, worn silver coin, exactly where he always placed it. He stared down at it for a while, running his thumbs over it as he had done countless times before.

Cullen reminisced on how many hard times that coin had seen him through, and how much protection it had offered. He clutched it tightly in his fist as he pushed himself off of the bench.

As he left the garden, he felt... not calm, but… quieter.

He would speak to her when she awoke, he assured himself. And, in the meantime, he would do what little he could to make this world safer, or at least more stable.