Okay part three is special since it mostly focuses on Cullen. I hope I hit the mood properly. I listened to the Soundtrack to Jane Eyre from 2011 (Michael Fassbender and Mia Wasikowska) Those of you who know it will know how heart-breaking it is in some parts^^. To those who don't know it: I really recommend to watch the film and listen to the Soundtrack. It's awesome.

Now on with the story. Hope you enjoy!

Part 3 - What am I without you?

The western Approach. He had only read about it in books and reports. A merciless and treacherous place. It was covered in poisonous, fog exuding, hot springs throughout its centre and made many regions inaccessible. The Inquisitor had however pointed out, that she had found scripts about construction plans regarding towers that would be used as some sort of chimney to redirect the emissions elsewhere. How she had stumbled upon it had even the Spymaster throw him a surprised glance.

Nobody actually knew if, or how she may have established a way of communicating with others outside the regular use of birds, or if she simply had stumbled upon it in the hidden Library. Did it really matter? He wondered that afternoon, while watching the group of companions she would take with her the next day at sunrise, collect everything they needed in the yard. She seemed to rise to become the leader they all had needed. Strong, reliable, resourceful, clever, charismatic. And she was good. She always seemed to mock those who called her so openly, but just watching her converse with the people closest to her, had him envious of the obvious affection and tenderness she practiced towards them.

Subtle. A slight touch here, a mended minor wound there, the exchange of a gentle smile and hushed words of encouragement towards her Inner Circle of friends. One he did not count himself among. Besides the night he had consoled her, he had not been her friend. Not really. Yes he had picked her out of the snow when he had seen something green shimmer in the distance. Had warmed her with his body heat under his fur coat as she threatened to freeze to death. She did not know and that meant it didn't mean anything.

He was a bystander she passed whenever she would practice with Dorian or one of the others in the courtyard. Exchange a few words in the war room. Nothing more. And yet a little voice in the back of his mind would still whisper to him when he was alone in his quiet tower. Words of hope mentioning how he had, every night since they had talked in the kitchens, found a steaming cup of tea on his desk accompanied by a note, carrying little quotes that made him smile, whenever he would get ready for another night of reports and fleeting amounts of sleep.

Hope. Something he had had to learn again after Kinloch. Void after Kirkwall. He was still lost some times. Most of the time.

Get it together man! First: Stop pitying yourself and second: You have grown since then. It's not supposed to be perfect from the beginning so man up and stop whining.

Again the Commander's mind had decided to wander towards her diary and so his head was inclined over said tome, when he heard the knock at his door. Dusk was falling outside his windows, bathing the room in soft reds and oranges. He had missed her coming in and so was startled when she leaned over his shoulder. "Where did you get this?" she asked calmly, though he could have sworn to have heard an edge in her voice just then. There went his subtle way of explanation.

"Cassandra handed it over to me. She strangely thought I'd be better suited to read it." The words poured out of his mouth like a waterfall. "I never intended to pry into your life like this and I'm incredibly sorry." Cullen fell silent, not knowing what he could add to avert the undoubtedly awkward situation and instead lifted his eyes, after having futilely searched the room for anything other to look at than her, as his mind reeled. Her expression was unreadable, cold even, while her eyes appeared fixed on the book, yet she was worlds away.

An eternity seemed to have passed until she finally spoke again. "She didn't read it then." Her conclusion sounded disheartened and Cullen's heart ached at the obvious hurt reflecting in her eyes as their gazes locked.

"I'm sorry." Maker he was weak, but he couldn't find the right words. What could he ever say to make this less hurtful. "If that is all Commander I wish you a good night until we meet again when I come back." And without another glance over her shoulder, she practically fled from his office, her back straight as a stick, legs rigid.

He wished he could go after her and make this go away, but he couldn't. In the name of Andraste did he want to smack that insensible, blockheaded brute of a Seeker for her blind disregard. Had she not understood an inkling of what she had been reading until he had interrupted her?

By the time his thoughts stopped raging, he astonishingly found himself standing in the middle of a scarcely lit main-hall. It's usual attendants slowly fanning out towards their respective resting places as night descended. Those remaining being himself, the soldiers on duty and the ever present Dwarf who was scribbling away at his parchment by the fire. And he berates me a workaholic.

Ignoring him for now, Cullen went off to search for her. After visiting her quarters without success, his search widened until he finally reached the hidden library in the network of corridors in the cellar. It was as if she had disappeared into thin air.

He eventually ended up back in the main-hall, letting his gaze drift through the empty space, regarding the unoccupied seat at the head of the tall room with an unintentional longing in his eyes until he turned away with as sigh. Approaching the side-door that lead to his tower, Cullen was stopped in his tracks by a scratchy voice from beside the fire. "Didn't find what you've been looking for, huh Curly? Or should I say whom?" Breathing in deeply through his nose, his eyes closed for a moment, as he centered himself, before turning to be met with the Dwarf's seemingly always smug looking face. Swallowing his pride and general distrust towards the man, Cullen asked. "Yes in fact I didn't. You wouldn't happen to know of the Inquisitors preferred location to avoid detection, would you Varric. And before you give me one of your remarks about a hiding place losing it's purpose if it is known, let me tell you that me finding her is of great importance."

"You wound me Curly. I would never expect you scurrying around like a scared chicken to be anything less than of great importance to the Inquisition." He said with a wink. "I however, have not seen to were our lovely leader has literally run off to when she passed me earlier. This doesn't happen to have anything to do with the journal she was clutching to herself like a schoolgirl a few days back, does it." This damn Dwarf and his awfully accurate deduction skills.

He had no time for this. "Oh forget it. I'm not here to feed your lust for tasty bits of information on peoples private affairs." He spat pinching the bridge of his nose, having reached the limit of his patience. "Just promise me one thing Varric. In all honesty," and his golden eyes bore down on him with fierce determination setting them aflame. "Have her back out there, or so the Maker help me I'll hunt you for the rest of your miserable existence."

Varric thought he had just imagined the quiet "Please," the tower of a man had uttered under his breath, before rushing through the door in a blur of red, had he not seen the desperation that had stolen itself onto his face.

Boy the man has it bad.

He had not seen to what he had opened his door that night, even if it was but a tiny gap. It was enough.

The days seemed to float passed, leaving him cold and numb. Cullen had drowned himself in his work. All the while, old demons raging inside his head. They were always present at the back of his mind, tightly leashed by his will to never be so mindless and obedient as he had been during his service to the Chantry. But something had brought them forward now and with every wave that his body and mind fought the battle of Lyrium-deprivation, did he plummet a little deeper into the sinkhole of his very own brand of madness. And they were worse than ever. Constant headaches made thinking almost impossible. His knees sometimes giving out on him, fortunately mostly in the solitude of his study. The constant pain making his day to day a new kind of hell.

Sometimes during his more alert moments, did his hands feel for the straps that held the mutilated parts of his soul together. Trying to fasten them again. Tie down the darkness, that seeped through the cracks, spilling over his hands in a dark acrid liquid, that if it enclosed his spirit in its entirety, would eat away at the rest of his being and devour Cullen till nothing would be left.

These were also the times when his mind would use her to embody the parts that were still fighting to regain control. She was his sun, the only thing that could reign in the darkness, even if it was just for a little while. Her gentle smile, warm caresses and words of affection, giving him hope to one day emerge free from this nightmare, that haunted his existence.

But how could she ever see him as something else than a threat, when it could be so easy for him to destroy her. He had done it before. Countless men and women had fallen by his blade, or had been stripped of their power at his command. He was a monster. Just like the Red Templars.

To the outside world he had become increasingly heartless, his recruits had even started to avert their eyes whenever he'd pass them on the battlements. While Josephine had seized to try to appeal to him after having a taste of his foul mood first hand, Leliana had proven more reluctant, even cruel in the way she dragged him out of his tower every morning, knowing perfectly well he'd emerge eventually for the soldiers morning drills. She even had the audacity to watch him as he instructed his charges, giving him a stern look whenever he'd take it too far.

Even the cold of the Emprise could not cool his temper in the days it took him to establish a decent outpost there. His pursuit of Red Templar footholds methodical, relentless and without any sign of mercy. There were whispers among some of the men, that a demon must have gotten to their Commander, or that a bloodthirsty mage loomed in the shadows behind him, only awaiting the Inquisitor's return upon which he'd have her slaughtered by her own Commander. Those who knew him personally had no better explanation to the why, but they recognized the old Cullen stepping forward and that did not bode well.

This went on until the day he had had enough of Leliana's surveillance and rounded on her one afternoon in his office, after another taxing training exercise, additional to trembling hands and a skull splitting headache he had sported since that morning. "For both our sakes stop chewing at my heals and mind your own damn business! I've had about enough of you meddling in my affairs." He practically growled at her.

"Then stop behaving like a child Commander." She spat back with special emphasize on his title. "It is everything else but meddling if your affairs affect your work. I told you before to stay away from her because I knew nothing good would come of any entanglement with the Inquisitor. You..."

He cut her off harshly. "There is nothing between me and the Inquisitor. You of all people should know that, considering how you are always nose deep in others personal life Spymaster."

"Then I don't understand how you can let yourself be controlled by your current mood as you are. This? Is not you anymore and deep down you know how foolish it all is. This is the broken man I saw after we pulled his sorry shell out of Kinloch. The man I still saw when Cassandra convinced me you were the right man for the job."

After a moment of complete silence she turned to leave, but not before looking to him one last time. "Figure it out! The you right now, is not what we need for this plan to work. If you can rein in whatever you are fighting in that pretty head of yours? Fine! If not, I'll be awaiting your letter of resignation on the war table."

Snap.

As soon as she was out of sight, he crumbled in on himself. The spell broken by harsh words, that rammed the truth into his stupefied mind. His eyes opening wide and seeing clearly for the first time in weeks.

What had he been doing all this time since the Inquisitor's departure? It was as if he had not been the one holding the reins any longer. All this time quietly watching the Abyss until it had watched back, piercing and ripping apart every conscious thought, all logic going up in flames. What had he been thinking? How could he have himself become so weak? Yielding!

No more!

And he swore to himself and the Maker, that never again would he undermine everything he had worked so hard to achieve, by throwing himself over the edge into the void. This was not the man he had made of himself. Not the man he had decided to be as he left the shackles of the Chantry behind.

And in regard of the Lady Trevelyan, he'd either start making his intentions clear, or he'd have to live with being on the side lines because he chose to.

I admit I had to rewrite this part completely, since the old version was god-awful...so bad xD. Anyway I hope I could grasp the mood right and could deliver the emotions properly.

Thanks for reading!

Gwen :)