Here's part two. Hope you like it :)

Part 2 - Ghosts of Skyhold

Skyhold was a curious place. Cullen had felt it the moment he had set foot over its threshold. Maybe it was due to the old Elven magic in the walls, but there was something in the air especially at night, that gave the whole castle a haunted character. No matter how many people were standing with you, it felt eerily alone in the long dark corridors.

A few days ago he had overheard two servants whispering in the great hall. "I'm telling you I'll never walk around the castle after midnight again." One had said. "Why? you afraid of the dark?" The other had mocked. "No I'm not. But this place is cursed I'm telling you. I heard a woman's voice singing some old child song. It makes me shiver just thinking about it. Her voice was high and soft and the way it echoed in every hallway made me nearly run back to my quarters. Besides I heard one of the soldiers mention he saw an animal walk around the courtyard the other night. Something that looked like a wolf just bigger, the fur all black but the eyes a glowing green. Believe me or not I'll have my shifts changed."

Though he was no man to give much thought to gossip such as this, Cullen felt slightly curious after hearing that and soon a huge part of Skyhold was whispering about the castle being haunted at night. It went so far that even the soldiers picked for the nightshift started to become uneasy.

That was when he decided to look into it himself. Afraid of some stray dog and singer. He had to scoff at that thought. Probably just one of Sera's pranks she loves so much.

The following night he was still at his desk brooding over reports, when he caught sight of the moon through the hole of his roof. As far as I know it should be well after midnight now. Guess it's time to find myself a ghost...or whatever it is. He thought blowing out the candles surrounding him before he left for the door leading to the main building. Since everyone had turned in for the night it was quiet in the scarcely lit corridors. There was no noise beside the sound of his steps, having abandoned most of his armour back at his office he could only hear the rustling of fabric.

There was nothing until he entered the catacombs. There he heard it. The shuffling of feet, a door opening and someone, a woman, singing the soft tune of a song he had almost completely forgotten. Beside his disbelieve in ghosts he felt a shiver run down his spine at the eerie echo the walls around him created.

I've got no strings

To hold me down

To make me fret, or make me frown

I had strings

But now I'm free

There are no strings on me

And then he saw the open door at the end of the hallway he had just turned into. The voice seemed to come from there.

Moving slowly he crept along the cold stone wall at his back. As he reached the door he thought about the right way of approach. Fast and surprising, risking to chase away whatever was in there, or to first asses the situation by risking a careful look.

He decided on the latter and was rather surprised about what he saw. There was a woman standing in an old hidden library and singing to herself. It was no other than the Inquisitor herself, dressed in a long flowing light blue nightgown, that seemed too wide at the top, for it slipped down at the shoulder, revealing creamy white skin beneath it. There was something else he could not see clearly from his position, but judging by the looks of it he'd say it was a scar.

Admittedly this made her look a little like a ghost, especially in the way the moonlight seeped in from narrow windows, making her look frail. Her skin almost glowing ethereally.

Whatever he did next would startle her he knew, deciding to knock quietly. As he had predicted she spun around her eyes wide with fright until they recognized him, leaning mostly relaxed against the wooden frame.

"Commander Cullen. I didn't think you'd still be awake. Or Anyone for that matter," she said a slight tremor in her voice while she straightened her robe. The only thing she achieved though was to attract his gaze and Cullen was startled to see how the garment had become visibly see-through, revealing the outlines of her figure underneath.

Soft curves and the perfect shape of an hourglass. He had not noticed that he'd stopped breathing, until a soft clearing of her throat refocused his attention and he finally answered, "Uh, well yes. As much as I stare them down, the mountain of papers only decreases by actually looking them over I'm afraid. Aside from that, I had heard some rumors from the servants, regarding a ghost that seemed to haunt Skyhold and I came to investigate. You don't look dead to me in the slightest, though that song is positively unnerving reverberating from the walls like this. Not that I'm saying it sounds gruesome. I think your voice is lovely." And there he had done it again. It had started out as a simple explanation and had ended with him embarrassing himself in front of her. Bravo Cullen.

The smile she gave him was sheepish, but genuine. And with heated cheeks she breathed a quiet "Thank you."

"If I may ask, what's keeping you from your own bed my Lady? Is something troubling you?" He watched as her smile faded, her gaze dropped and she turned towards the bookshelf again, her fingers caressing the dust covered backs. "I have been experiencing twisted, but also very vivid nightmares. It's not that I did not have them before, but they have become a constant in my sleepingpatterns." She looked at him as she made a gesture regarding the whole room.

"So I decided to spend my time otherwise, instead of trying to go back to sleep. Like researching the Fade. I hope I did not cause too much trouble. I was neither aware of what my singing might cause, nor was it my intention to scare anyone."

Cullen was not sure how to respond to the former so he addressed the latter first. "I think nobody will think ill of you, if you explain it to them. And about your dreams," he scratched the back of his neck. "well I could fetch you a cup of tea and lend you my ear if you wished." He Regretted his offer instantly. What comfort could he possibly offer? He the man who wandered the hallways of Skyhold himself, deprived of sleep for years and years to come. A little scoff beside him pulled him out of his inner monologue and he only saw a cloud of blue silk flutter past him before he heard her say.

"Thank you Commander. I'll think on your offer, but I would not mind you following me to the kitchens. You look in dire need of a cup yourself. And maybe an ear as well." She had added the last part with a wink and a smile over her shoulder, as she floated down the corridor, not waiting for him to follow.

The kitchens were of course abandoned at this hour, ambers faintly glowing in the fireplace. Cullen feared if they decided to stay, there'd soon come the time when the staff would interrupt their conversation, to prepare breakfast for every inhabitant of the keep. Pushing this thought aside for the moment, he was more surprised of seeing the Inquisitor swiftly skimming the shelves, collecting whatever she needed for preparing two cups of tea, though he noted the water inside each cup had not been steaming before she had touched it for a moment.

Sometimes it was so easy for him to forget that she was a mage. Mostly because her whole demeanour did not resemble that of other mages he had met. She was quiet yes, but not fearful and self-conscious. More like a gentle breeze, that came and went sometimes without having anyone notice. Now that he thought about it, she really had him curious about what dreams could ale her to keep her awake at night, wandering the corridors of Skyhold by herself, singing a tune that made the hair on his arms stand on edge. Was she by any chance being chased by demons in the Fade?

Reaching for his cup he noticed how she had used all his favourite ingredients. "How did you know this was the way I preferred my tea?" He had asked before he could stop himself and watched as she tried to hide her expression behind her own cup. He waited patiently for her answer and was rewarded with her finally looking him in the eye again, instantly entranced by how incredibly blue they were. "I noticed it the other day in the war room and it's similar to what I like. I use Prophet's Laurel instead of Vandal Aria though, since it mostly helps people who suffer from constant shaking or stress. It calms the nerves quite strongly." That seemed to make her pause. "Is the stress causing you harm Commander?"

Her ability of observation and reading people had always fascinated, albeit unsettled him in the past. "Not as much as in Kirkwall, but that's not the main reason why I like to drink it. It does as you said calm the nerves before a fight or helps me sleep sometimes. Not anymore lately but well, a topic for another time maybe."

That's when Cullen felt her hand on his arm, warmth seeping through the cotton of his tunic. "Then maybe we should trade. From one sleep deprived soul to another." Her smile was encouraging and before he knew it, she was pulling him along with her, her delicate hand fitting perfectly in his big, rough and callused one. He had only experienced this soft side of hers once before and so he walked beside her a little dumbstruck.

He could have sworn he saw a blush creep up her neck as they walked. What he noticed as he studied her back more closely made his heart clench painfully for a moment. He had been right, there was a scar. From the base of her neck all the way down to the curve of her spine from the looks of it. And of course not any kind of scar. The rough shape of a lightning bolt with hundreds of little tendrils reaching out. He knew those scars all too well. It was true what they said about them not being treatable, other than decreasing the pain until the tissue had closed up.

There had not been many mages in Kirkwall with this kind of mark. Mostly because few did survive an uncontrolled Smite. Inconceivable how much pain she must have been in back then.

Before he knew it he was seated on a comfortable couch, gazing into the flames burning in the fireplace of the Inquisitors suite. Even thinking about being were she slept had his cheeks burn. How had he come from looking for a ghost to exchanging stories with the Inquisitor in her own quarters? The more he thought about it, the clearer it became that he actually did not mind. Not a bit. It felt right to be here, sitting on her couch with her to his right snuggled into the cushions, her legs pulled up on top of the padding and looking just as content as him. Although a little lost.

"I promised I would go first so," she began hesitantly. "Why I cannot sleep. I don't sleep well because sometimes I'm afraid of what to do next. Since I have obviously become the person people come running to for the hard decisions. I awake in the middle of the night, panic clutching at my chest, my heart racing, hands cold from sweat, trembling and my mind running in circles. What to do next? And after that? And then?"

Cullen had not been aware of what all this was doing to her. But it made sense. From being a prisoner, interrogated in a cold, dark cell, blamed for something she had not caused, to the symbol of a Maker she did not really believe in and chosen as the leader of an army, though she'd never had the ambition to fight. A terrible amount of pressure.

His silence had her continue her monologue.

"Other times I'm back at the circle. A child alone and disregarded by everyone around her. In those dreams even my loving father would be cold and distant. All I see when I look at their faces are demons. Whispering, clawing at my mind. Then suddenly I'm back at Haven. Flames devouring houses and their occupants, licking at their smoking corpses. The smell of burned flesh, blood and metal filling the air. Choking me. The deafening cry of the monster and a creature out of purgatory itself. His breath burning me, pain spreading in my arm. And then utter cold darkness. Hopeless scrambling to find leverage on the slippery floor of the cave. Agony pulsing through my veins. I'm alone as always..."

The way her breath caught in her throat had him turn to see tears trail down her cheeks. Had she been silently crying the whole time? Maker he had wished to be of help when he had offered her his ear, not have her drown in despair.

Seeing her in tears had him torn between, wanting to touch her, cradle her in his arms and soothe her worries, and to better keep his distance, feeling intrusive towards her private ailment.

And so the only thing he allowed himself, was to take her hand in both of his, automatically leaning forward to look into her eyes. "I'm sorry I got a little lost there. They are just dreams after all." She said dismissively while wiping the tears away with her hand and smiling at him. It did not however reach her eyes, red rimmed as they were. She strangely had never looked more beautiful.

"Right now I feel especially pathetic making you listen to my whimpering." He silenced her by brushing back the hair that had fallen into her eyes, his hand lingering gently on her cheek. Hearing her trembling intake of breath had him press ahead.

"Don't be sorry my Lady. Dreams often tend to concentrate our deepest fears, or painful memories. It only proofs our lack of consideration on your behalf. Pushing you too hard and expecting too much at once. Even for someone as gifted as you are this of course would be a traumatic experience." After a moment of looking into his eyes she sighed and said. "You're right. I never wanted any part of this. But now I'm here and I have promised to help. So that's what I will do. As best as I can at least."

"And we will be with you every step of the way. But you need to tell us when things become too overtaxing, or if you are not comfortable with playing the Game." He had to chuckle at that. "I know I am." It earned him the first real smile of the night and Cullen was relieved to have been able to distract her from her worries. It also reminded him that his hand was still on her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her soft skin.

He had to leave. It was neither the right moment nor was he the right man to be with her. As much as he may have wanted to stay and tell her about the diary. Another time perhaps. And so he turned to leave, but not before he had kissed the knuckles of her hand gingerly and wished her to finally find rest. Her reply was soft and had it not been perfectly quiet in that moment he would have missed it. "To you too. I do hope there'll be rest for the wicked."

The song is part of Pinocchio if you didn't recognize it. And I know you may associate it with "Age of Ultron". It was an ingenious idea to use it in the movie and James Spader is just awesome! The moment I thought of her being liberated from the tower this instantly came to mind so I had to put it in there.

Not mine: Music and lyrics by Leigh Harline and Ned Washington

Hope you enjoyed :D Cheers!