Cullen stood at the war table, frowning as the Herald leaned against it, and that damned leg squeaked. He'd spent likely four full days—spread out across the weeks they'd been there, of course—trying to fix that thing. It seemed to refuse to be settled out of pure malice.
Or at least it felt that way.
Josephine and Leliana stood to either side of him, idly talking about what details were being smoothed out, what things were going wrong, and what new problems had arisen in the short span of the day. It amazed him how quickly things could change.
Cassandra and the Herald stood on the other side of the table. Cassandra was talking with Leliana about logistics for travel while their Herald simply inspected the different place markers with a quiet curiosity. She picked up one notating a possible supply line and turned it slowly, watching the way the light glinted off of the metal.
He almost reached over to take it from her, but before he could, she set it back in the exact place it had been before.
She paid attention, after all.
It was somewhat of a relief, as it was one less thing to add to his headaches, one of which was snaking slowly through his skull, making his eyes hurt, and his own attentiveness waver. A whisper of a song echoed in the back of his mind, and he tried to push it out.
After these first few months, it would get better. It had to.
"If that is everything we need to cover, we can go pack our things," Cassandra stated, already turning to the door, knowing the answer. She nodded to each of them. Did her gaze linger on Cullen? Did she know he was having headaches again? Even as he felt as though she could peer straight into his mind, her gaze moved on, pausing on their Herald. "I would suggest we keep our party small, however. It will make for faster travel."
"I know Lady Vivienne is still working on getting everything squared away for her time with us," the Herald said, straightening up a bit. Her braid slipped over her shoulder, swaying gently against her back, each swing a little lower. "I guess she left another mage as…I don't know, First Enchanter interim or something of that sort?"
"Most likely, yes," Cassandra nodded.
"Also, Solas has offered to take over tending to the infirmary while I'm gone," The Herald laced her fingers in front of her and unlaced them, over and over, rocking slightly on her toes. "But Varric and Sera are already packing their things."
"Lovely," Cassandra murmured, her voice dry. "At least we will have a lively trip to the Coast."
The Herald's lips twitched up into a quiet smile, her gaze flitting from Cassandra to the floor. "I think it will be nice."
As Cassandra swept out of the room, that incredible sense of purpose guiding her feet, Josephine gave everyone a smile and slipped out as well. The Herald turned to leave, but Leliana pulled her to the side, speaking softly. When she was done, the Herald gave her a short nod, and the spymaster hurried past her.
She paused in the doorway, glancing at Cullen, and then giving him an awkward nod. Before she'd fully turned away, she was walking back into the room, to him. "You…aren't mad, are you? About the soldiers?"
Cullen scratched at his eyebrow slowly, trying to will the ache from his head. "Is there a reason I should be?"
"I don't know," she shrugged a little. She was messing up her braid again. When he'd first heard she was from the Wilds, he'd wondered why she would keep her hair so long, as it seemed like it would just get caught on branches, or be something a templar chasing her could try to get a hold of. He frowned at the thought of someone jerking her backwards by her hair. "I know they're your subordinates. I don't wish to step on toes, like the other day, with my healing comments."
She probably wouldn't know what to do with her hands without it there to play with.
He coughed to clear his throat. "Helping me find better places for them isn't really stepping on toes." He paused, allowing himself a small half smile. "And if you're there to watch, they may try harder to impress you."
She laughed. "I doubt they feel I'm worth impressing, commander."
"You're the Herald, was all I meant," he looked away, embarrassed. He hadn't been trying to flirt. His headache throbbed angrily through his temples, the flush from his embarrassment only making it worse. His world was spinning, and he closed his eyes. He could swear he felt the whisper of magic on his skin.
He nearly drew his sword when that miserable whisper became tangible. He stopped himself as he stared down into the Herald's eyes, his as wide as hers. Her fingertips were touching his temples.
A spell died on her lips, and she pulled her hands back. "I'm sorry. I thought…you seemed like you had a headache."
It's no wonder the templars never caught her.
She could see his weaknesses, too, couldn't she?
Drawing himself up straighter, he frowned, carefully stepping around her and heading toward the door. "I appreciate that you've dedicated yourself so thoroughly to healing, but please do not concern yourself with me. Should I need assistance, I will ask."
That miserable thud of pain hammered away in his skull as he swiftly left the room—and the Herald—behind.
...-...
A/N: Thank you for reading!