Curiosity drew her to him first, besides, sympathy for one who hated the chantry so much was inevitable, but what made her stay was... him.
He was interesting in a way, she expected him to be thuggish and crude, he was but in a delectable manner. He made her laugh, insulted her authority, and gave her a hard time trying to break his shell, " what do you have to lose?" she said to him once, there where hundreds, thousands wanting, yearning for her friendship, thing she offred him freely , and yet he still didn't believe, thinking that she only wanted to claim and conquer , "She is after your soul,a woman like her would take nothing less" whispered the little voice inside his head , "she is like them all, power-crazed bitch, will break everything that refuses to bend to her" Therefore, he shut her out and withdrew into himself again.
She was a huntress, she was taught how to deal with animals, "they are not different from us" and how it was wiser to leave an injured beast alone "show respect, show strength, and never wound what you don't intend to kill". He hasn't wished for a quick death, could mean many things, the commander said it was cowardice, the spymaster told her that he, most likely, was seeking the same slow, agonizing death as those he has fed red lyrium. The truth was always somewhere in between.
He asked for her when the fever started, it was the beginning of the end, he would die or worse, he would transform into a mindless monster, either way it was a fatal outcome.
She though he was going to beg for the mercy of her blade, he didn't. He wanted a hand to hold before getting too delirious to recognise who was at his bedside.
she gave him that hand he wished for, afterward she realised he took more, when he left.