CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Falling. Cullen didn't know how long he had been falling. He didn't know from where he'd fallen or how long it'd be until he hit the ground. All he knew was this familiar sinking feeling in his stomach, the rush of adrenaline that powered his flailing arms to grab something, anything, to catch himself. He caught nothing. The Void surrounded him. He couldn't see worth a damn…It was probably hopeless, but Cullen struggled nonetheless, trying to see through the infinite blackness, reaching, straining his arms to grasp onto something tangible… He refused to let the Void take him, not at least without a fight.
"Oof." The ex-templar landed with a thump. He gasped, trying to recapture the wind knocked out of him, but to little avail. He still couldn't see his surroundings, but he could at least feel something underneath him. Grasping, he felt his soft bedsheets, and that helped calm him a bit. His breath started returning to him, though his chest still hurt like crazy. He laid for a moment, trying to gather himself and determine the source of the pain. It didn't have that same sear as a flesh wound, it felt more like the ache that came when he pushed himself too hard during training. He focused on steadying his breaths, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.
"Does it hurt you?"
Cullen had been so focused on the pain he hadn't noticed the Inquisitor sitting on the bed next to him. "I-Inquisitor!" Light glowed off her pale, elven skin…every inch of it, seeing as she was completely unclothed. Cullen's face grew hot as he sat up quickly.
Too quickly. His head spun. Myra placed a hand over his heart and pushed him back down onto the bed.
"You must stay in bed. You need rest," she said. Her voice was light, like the tinkling of a music box.
"I…" Cullen grasped for words, but was speechless. Maker, he knew the elf was beautiful, she always made sure her armor was well-fitted, everyone knew she was beautiful, but oh Maker, he couldn't stop staring at all of her perfectly chiseled curves, her pink nipples the perfect apex to her perky breasts. Her bright eyes only made her gaze all the more piercing, all the more commanding. He obeyed by instinct alone.
She smirked at that, trailing her dainty, delicate fingers down the middle of his chest. He gulped as she continued down, down, down…
"I-Inquisitor, please—"
"You don't want me?" Sadness overshadowed her features.
"No, no, not at—I mean, yes, yes, of course, I—" he stammered.
The elf's eyes twinkled in amusement as she leaned in closer, so close, her wine-stained lips brushed his. "Then why fight it?"
"Commander."
Cullen opened his crusty eyes. One of the recruits called from below his loft.
"Inquisitor Lavellan wants you in the War Room."
Cullen sighed and got himself out of bed.
The trip to the War Room was nothing of note. The recruits who saw him saluted and he nodded as he passed. He tried his best to rub the sleep from his eyes, chewing on a mint leaf to fix his morning breath. He wanted to at least give off some impression that he hadn't just awoken.
He entered Josephine's office. The Lady Ambassador was engrossed in her usual routine, exhibiting her mastery of multi-tasking by scrawling furiously onto one of the surely thousands of rolls of parchment she had on her desk while carrying on two separate conversations with one of her messengers and a visiting noblewoman, and eating a pastry. When the Antivan saw Cullen enter, she excused herself, finishing her pastry and following the Commander. "I see you received Lady Lavellan's invitation as well."
"Of course."
They entered the hallway leading to the War Room. Josephine flipped through her stack of parchments as they walked, surely reviewing for the meeting. Further down the hall, Cullen saw Solas leaning against the wall by the door, his arms crossed and head bowed. Brooding, as usual, Cullen thought, but he caught another emotion bubbling inside of him. I know it's impossible, but I feel like he knows… He felt his cheeks grow hot as he remembered the dream…the Inquisitor's glowing skin and plump breasts…
"Solas," Josephine greeted the elf as they passed.
"Lady Ambassador," he greeted.
"Will you be joining us for the meeting?" Josephine asked. Cullen shrunk as the Antivan stopped to converse with the elf. He got the uncharacteristic urge to hide in the curtains.
"No, I merely wait for ma vhenan," Solas said.
"Ma vhenan?" Josephine asked.
"My heart," Solas translated.
Josephine sighed romantically.
Cullen felt an unfamiliar beast claw at his stomach. Damn elf and his silver tongue.
"It truly is wonderful, the love you share," Josephine said.
His vision reddened. That hunger for lyrium within did not help him see any more clearly.
Cullen shook himself free of the thoughts. They said their goodbyes, Solas waiting outside while Cullen and Josephine opened the doors to the War Room.
Leliana smirked as they entered. "Cullen, Josie, how kind of you to join us."
The Inquisitor looked up at them from the War Table as they passed her, giving a sheepish smile. "I apologize for the short notice."
"Non-sense," Cullen went to say, but it came out through a yawn.
Josephine hid a smile behind the back of her hand. Myra gave a wry laugh.
"Trust me, Commander, I understand."
"Are you feeling ill?" Leliana asked.
"Pardon?" Myra asked.
"You seem exhausted."
"I've had trouble sleeping."
"I could order a set of elixirs for you, Inquisitor. I know a very esteemed alchemist in Val Royeux," Josephine said.
"No, thank you Josephine. I'll be fine."
Cullen saw Josephine begin to draft a letter, he supposed to the aforementioned Orlesian. The Inquisitor looked back down to the War Table, moving the various pins and figurines around.
"Leliana, any updates on Adamant?" Myra asked.
"The fortress is preparing for siege as we speak, though given its old age, that means little."
Myra nodded. "Cullen?"
"What forces we have to spare continue to gather and march towards Adamant. We have about 5,000 soldiers already stationed at Griffon Wing Keep and 5,000 more who will arrive in the next two weeks. We will be ready to lay siege then."
"Good. Josephine, details on our alliances?"
However, as Josephine began to elaborate on the various Orlesian Houses and their stances towards the Inquisition, Cullen found himself observing the Inquisitor. The circles under her eyes seemed even darker today and her responses came out in slow drawls. She seems absolutely exhausted…
"Alright, all of you," Myra said. "Keep me updated on any changes. Commander, you should join me and my party as we ride to Adamant. As soon as the troops recover from their march and we have the siege equipment, we strike. Meeting adjourned."
As soon as Myra left the War Room, Solas wrapped an arm around her. "Vhenan."
She let him pull her into his arms.
"Can you imagine my dismay when I awoke to find your side of the bed cold?" He kissed her forehead.
"Ir abelas, I couldn't sleep," she said.
She could sense Solas's discomfort, but he didn't press her for more information.
"How was the meeting?"
"Everything will be ready for the assault on Adamant in two weeks' time. I want to spend the day making preparations to travel to the Western Approach."
"I'll begin to pack immediately…after making sure you are attended to."
"Mana, I'm fine," Myra groaned, trying to push him away, but he held her tight.
She heard Josephine attempt to hide a giggle as the Antivan passed the couple. Myra looked behind her to see Leliana give a small smile and nod as she passed. The Commander stepped out and paused for a moment. Their eyes met and Myra smiled despite her exhaustion. He looked away quickly and approached the pair.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," Cullen said.
"Just the usual lovers' spat." Myra winked at Solas, at which he sighed.
"What do you need, Commander?" she asked.
"I wanted to know when we'd leave for the Western Approach."
"At first light tomorrow."
"Will the Commander be joining us?" Solas asked.
"Yes, hahren. That won't be a problem, will it?" She nuzzled him.
Solas took a moment longer than she thought necessary to answer, staring at the Commander. Cullen shifted uncomfortably.
"No, vhenan. Not at all," Solas finally said, pulling her closer.
"Good, we'll meet in the foyer tomorrow," Myra said, looking at the two of them.
Cullen nodded. "You know where I'll be if you need me." Myra watched him jog down the hall to catch up with the rest of the advisors. Leliana and Josephine turned and patiently awaited him before the three began to talk amongst themselves with rather serious expressions.
"Everyone is on edge," Myra said.
"As they should be. This will be a test of the Inquisition's true strength," Solas said.
"And my own."
"Do you fear?"
Myra felt her stomach sink. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't."
Solas started walking her to his study. "And is that why you've recently neglected coming to bed?"
"In a sense." For a minute, Myra thought she saw Darrell, but it was just an Inquisition scout. She shook the image from her mind.
"An uncharacteristically enigmatic response," Solas said.
"You're usually not one to pry."
Solas did not respond at first, opting to study the shard on his desk. Myra sighed, throwing herself onto his couch and lounged, studying the frescoes around the room and wondering what scenes would decorate the walls that remained blank. Part of her felt exhausted and wanted nothing more but to sink into the soft, squishy cushions and sleep, but anxiety kept her wide awake.
Darrell… She closed her eyes but could only see the vaguest impression of his face… the bright hair, crooked teeth, bulbous nose… Looking back, she supposed he never was much of a looker, but he had captured her heart with his kindness all the same. What has become of him now?
"I found something the other night." Solas opened a drawer and pulled out a small, wooden object.
"My pipe!" Myra grinned. "I'd been looking everywhere for it! Ma serranas—"
Solas pulled it away from her grasping hands. "You will have it, but first, a question." He turned the pipe until he found Myra's engraving. Myra's stomach sank.
"A rather eloquent engraving, despite the amateur craftsmanship. But I am most curious as to the meaning. 'Darrell'… not an elven word. Not a word in any language, in fact. I would know. While you've spent the nights an insomniac, I've delved deep into the Fade, searching for the meaning of this inscription. I came across a revelation most curious… A Grey Warden, who spent part of his youth outside of Wycome, goes by this name."
"That was private, Solas!"
"My curiosity was piqued, so I inquired of Cole if the name held any meaning to him."
Myra stammered. "W-what did he say?"
Cole suddenly appeared from the shadows of the torchlight. "Head spinning like the spring I first smoked from that pipe." He approached Solas. "Hacking, coughing, but so intoxicated by him. So different, so kind and open. Does his heart still beat or did the Wardens steal that from him as they stole him away from me? By Mythal's grace, let him live. Elgar'nan, return him to me."
Myra's eyes stung. "Cole, I thought I could trust you…"
"Solas and I want to help."
"I don't need help!" Myra shot off the couch, lunging for them. Her head spun, she stumbled, leaned back, caught herself on the sofa.
Solas went to help her. "When was the last time you slept?"
Myra tried to push him away, not saying a word.
"I…can make you forget," Cole tried. "Then it won't hurt."
"No," Myra spat. "I need to remember." Her voice shook. "I always need to remember how he left me."
"Like Trewyn," Cole said.
"Like Trewyn." Myra's lips trembled and her tears spilled over. She gave up fighting and allowed Solas to draw her in close. "Promise you won't leave me."
But Solas did not make that promise. "Hush, da'len," he said. He kissed her head, never promising anything.
"Can't sleep?"
Myra turned her deep gaze from the burning campfire to glance at Cullen. He sat beside her. "No…"
"That makes two of us."
She took several short drags of the pipe. She heard rustling in the grass of the plains, but she did not fear. Halla often stirred in their sleep, and she had seen herds of them during their travel past the Exalted Plains.
"What has you up?" Myra asked, exhaling plumes of smoke.
"Withdrawal," Cullen said. "You?"
Myra was silent for a while, taking a deep inhale before blowing out perfect smoke rings. "Nerves."
Cullen chuckled. "You're quite good at that."
"Ma serranaas."
Cullen's expression spoke a question.
"It means, 'thanks.' I've had practice."
"Ah…" Cullen leaned back a bit and shifted his sitting position, resting an arm over his knee. "You know, smoking probably won't help you sleep."
"It calms me," Myra said. I can't think of what is to come, yet I can't stop ruminating about what has passed. Darrell…
"I'm surprised Solas isn't here with you," Cullen said. His tone was strange…a hint of some emotion Myra could not place.
"He offered to accompany me," Myra said slowly, "but I told him to get some rest. No use in both of us being sleep-deprived."
"True…"
The two sat for a few moments in silent. The crickets chirped in the grass and the owls hoo'ed into the empty night air. Myra filled it with smoke from her pipe, toking several more times. After a few moments, Myra offered the pipe to Cullen.
Cullen hesitated, then took it. He took a couple drags, then exhaled. "You know, one of my old commanders, Knight-Commander Gregor used to smoke one of these." He passed it back to her.
She took it. "Someone special to me gave me that pipe before he left." She emptied the ash on the ground and refilled the bowl with more spindleweed. With the snap of her fingers, sparks flew and lit the bowl. It continued to smoke, even after she had withdrew it from her lips.
Cullen chuckled. "Clever use of magic."
"I aim to please." Myra gave a wry smile.
"What happened to this friend of yours?"
"He wasn't a friend, and he left me, like everyone does."
Cullen remained silent.
"Sorry," Myra said.
"No, no need to apologize, I…just don't know what to say."
"Nothing to say," Myra said. "That's just the way it is, and the way it always has been." She looked at Solas's tent, then said quietly, "I wonder how long until he leaves me."
Cullen leaned in towards her. "Maybe that was the way it was once, but now you have myself and an entire army that would follow you to the Void and back."
"They see me as they want to see me, if they actually talked to me—"
"We're talking now, aren't we?"
"And you would follow me to the Void and back?" Myra spat.
Cullen grabbed her hand. "Twice, you need only to lead me."
Myra blushed. Cullen looked down and quickly withdrew his hand, flushing. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—Well, I did—What I'm trying to say is—"
Myra giggled.
"You're—erm—laughing?"
"You're cute. Thank you for talking to me, Commander. For the first time in a while, I feel hopeful." She yawned. "I think I can finally sleep." She walked to her and Solas's shared tent, but did not enter immediately. Turning back, she smiled at him, grateful.
"Good night, Commander, and sweet dreams."