Chapter 9 : Injured

Commander Cullen Rutherford stood in front of the Infirmary door and listened to the keening howls that came from beyond it. He listened to instructions and debate as they drifted out between screams. Felt his knuckles tighten as his hands worked into fists and then dropped away.

He hadn't been here when they'd brought her in, but Leliana had tipped him quickly that something was wrong with The Inquisitor. By the time he'd made it down here, they'd already slapped up quarantine posters and were refusing access to just about everybody, which left him in the dark about what was happening.

He stiffened suddenly as the door opened and Cassandra slouched from the room. She caught sight of him and scowled. 'Cullen, what are you doing here?'

She had to ask him that? 'I heard there was an incident in Emprise Du Lion-'

The Seeker snorted heavily and closed the door quietly. 'That would be putting it mildly.' She looked tired. Not just tired but haunted.

'What happened?'

They moved a little way away from the door, towards the training dummies that Cassandra had taken to abusing on more than one occasion. 'Red Templars.' She sneered and glanced at him. 'They ambushed us a little from Suledin Keep. One of them managed to get a lucky hit on The Inquisitor and-' Even this far from the dank little rooms, they could hear Liethe's screams.

Maker. 'Has she been like this the entire ride back?'

The look Cassandra gave him scared Cullen Rutherford. It chilled him to his very core. 'They think that a shard of that thing has become lodged in her shoulder. Red Lyrium, Cullen.'

That was - well judging by the elf's screams, it wasn't good. Cullen wasn't a scholar, wasn't sure what Red Lyrium would do, especially to someone like Liethe. Nobody did. He scrubbed a hand down his face, aware that he must have looked as though he'd aged a decade in just a few short hours.

Ambush. Liethe played a mean front of appearing the all-powerful Inquisitor, he knew that Vivienne and Josephine did what they could to cultivate that image, but in reality Liethe Lavallen was a tiny stick thin woman with a talent for magic and somewhat fickle luck.

Another scream rolled over them and Cullen shifted uncomfortably at the pitch of it. She sounded like she was being tortured. 'What can I do?' He decided at last.

Cassandra sighed wearily. 'Go to her, Cullen. Comfort her. The maker knows, she needs it while the doctors decide what can be done.'

His stomach tightened at her turn of phrase.

Liethe Lavallen looked…. Awful. She gave a weak chuckle as she said it. Sweat plastered her hair to her head, her normally glowing skin was pallid and mottled which made her Vallaslin stand out in stark contrast.

She looked fragile as could be. Cullen had managed to grab one of her doctors as she'd moved past to get a full breakdown of her condition and what he heard was not encouraging. The Inquisitor had a shard of Red Lyrium buried somewhere in her right shoulder. The Red Lyrium was trying to corrupt her body but the mark and her own magic were reacting to it's presence.

Liethe's body was a warzone and if it wasn't removed, she would be the casualty. The problem was, that it was embedded deep and the corruption was ruining the tissue around the wound. Every foray into the diseased tissue was causing greater damage to her and if they kept trying without a plan - it would kill her.

Cullen clutched her hand and gave his best crooked smile, despite the macabre turn of phrase. 'You look fine, Inquisitor.'

'I am literally in a sick-bed and you can't call me Liethe?'

A lump wormed it's way up his throat, as though he couldn't bear to say it. Before he could say anything else, there was a surge of red from her shoulder and she threw her head back, sweat beaded her forehead.

'Doctor, Doctor!' Cullen snapped. The doctor he'd questioned earlier raced back to the sickbed.

Cullen was forced to the edge as more professionals swooped in on the bed and, eventually, he found himself back where he had started, outside the infirmary, listening to the screams.

'She hurts. She hurts and he can do nothing for her. She hurts and he wants to help but he can't. She wants him to say her name and he does, but not where she can hear it.'

A skinny as a rake boy had appeared behind Cullen. The large brimmed hat seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't pin down why - or why the kid was talking in riddles.

'You're Cole.' He murmured at last as he put two and two together. Liethe had warned him that Cole was flitting about, more spirit it seemed than boy or demon. He made Cullen distinctly uncomfortable.

'Hurts, hurts to see her like that. Cassandra should have protected her, he should have been there-' Cole went on and Cullen felt that now agonizingly familiar clench in his stomach. Cole was voicing everything he was afraid of in that moment.

The spirit wasn't helping his frame of mind. They could get exactly where you didn't want- He cut himself off suddenly as desperate inspiration struck. At the same time, Cole finally cut off his own litany and turned his hat to look directly at Cullen.

He needed to find Solas.