There was a heat upon her; Isabeau became vaguely aware of her growing discomfort before it all came rushing back at once. Fully expecting to find her skin awash in purple flames, she instead found her body on a meet and greet with the rushes and solid stone floor of her bed chambers. With a heavy thump she crumpled awkwardly against floor and bed frame, her coverlets tangled clumsily in her legs. Savior of the known world and head of the mightiest organization in Thedas… Hear me roar.

Sunlight was streaming through the half drawn drapes of her boudoir, several of which graced the surface of the bed she had previously occupied. Isabeau groaned as she set herself right side up and threw herself back atop the goose down mattress, her wakefulness now allowing her to enjoy the streams of morning light that had previously startled her. As she ground her hands into her eyes to rub the sleep out, she decided that, while extremely tempting to remain, it was time to dress and check on Cullen. It had been nearly dawn when Isabeau had found her way back to her bed, Solas opting to remain with the beleaguered knight.

Once clad in a linen chemise, a bodice over top and supple leather trousers, Isabeau made her way to her solar. She grabbed a pear off the bowl of fruit that her attendants had left to break her fast and made her way down the hall towards the men's apartments. Varric was chatting with Josephine by the steps that lead to the war room and greater halls, the pair turning their gazes in her direction at the sound of her approaching steps.

Isabeau smiled warmly at the two, reaching to give Josephine's hand a grateful squeeze, "Thank you for the assistance last night, Josephine. I trust you were able to get some sleep?"

The beautiful Antivan let out a throaty chuckle, her hand squeezing Isabeau's back in turn, "It was enough, Inquisitor. I shall sleep… better tonight knowing you and the Knight are again safe."

"That bad?"

Varric snorted, "Half the keep thought you two had finally had a good rutting."

"Varric!"

Josephine's chastising cry was blessedly enough to distract the dwarf from the blush creeping across Isabeau's chest and cheeks. She narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion, "The keep is a vast fortress… surely a dwarf couldn't have spread such words through the very stone? You can't talk to stone, can you, Varric?"

"Chapter one: The Marshall of Thy Maiden's Mattress," Varric said, flashing Isabeau his best leer.

"You know, I'm just… so fond of you," Isabeau groaned playfully, her hips slanting as she palmed her forehead in exasperation before fixing a softer expression upon her features. "Listen, kindly take today for yourselves; I will call a meeting upon the morrow. I want to ensure I still have someone in command of my armies."

"As you desire," Josephine demurred, gracing Isabeau with another of her delicate bows. Varric smirked at the Inquisitor, turning around to follow the Antivan towards the upper levels of the keep. Before he was out of earshot however, he waved a hand over his head and called back, "Didn't realize your tits blushed, Inks. Great stuff for the book!"

Isabeau grinned bemusedly before taking several more bites of her pear, her strides carrying her to Cullen's apartments and solar quickly enough. As she entered and made to toss her pear pit into the now cool hearth, Vivienne and Solas appeared from the bedchamber.

"How is he?"

Vivienne gently closed the double doors with her usual grace that increasingly made Isabeau feel like little more than a blind nug. Solas smiled warmly however, and gestured towards the two arm chairs Isabeau had noted the previous night. As the pair sat, Vivienne smiled kindly at her Inquisitor before requesting her leave.

"I confess I am in dire need of some rest. It was a long night, Sirrah."

"Of course Vee, as you will," Isabeau smiled her thanks as the elegant woman departed, her attention turning back to Solas in the chair next to her, "Has he awoken?"

"He has certainly stabilized – you did well last night. I'm confident we're in the clear but no, he has not woken. Isabeau," Solas leaned forward in his seat, crossing his fingers in a tent as he pressed their tips to his lips, "The doses I gave him of Lyrium… last night and this morn. If he has indeed been weaning himself, I fear we have set him back upon square one."

Isabeau let out a heavy sigh, "What choice did we have? I don't understand… he is surrounded by people competent and more than trust worthy to assist him. Why attempt this alone?"

Solas stared at her knowingly, his large and perceptive eyes darkening, "I cannot say I know the man on the… required level to answer that. However, you entered the Fade and walked through his very own nightmare. Perhaps the answer to your question lied within?"

With that Solas bid her a fare morning, gently squeezing her shoulder as he passed, and made his way out of Cullen's solar leaving Isabeau to brood. Solas claimed to not know Cullen, truth be told, Isabeau could barely say she knew the man. She knew his tactics, his diplomacies, even his skill with steel from the few opportunities she'd managed to spar with him. Varric, when she'd discreetly inquired, had divulged what he knew and had experienced of Cullen while in Kirkwall with the Champion, but never had the two been close. Solas however, was skilled with the Fade and Isabeau would not have found it farfetched to believe during the connection Solas may have also glimpsed the same as she.

The raven girl…

An involuntary shudder passed through her body as she recalled the three forms the demons chose to take. The damned blush Varric had invoked threatened to tint the flesh of her bosom once again as she remembered viciously grappling with her own naked self. Perhaps the demons had chosen her form as it was the most convenient? Isabeau let out an exasperated snort. It was more convenient for her to believe anything other than acknowledging the very nature of desire demons at that current moment.

Rising from the comfortable chair beneath her, she tentatively made her way towards Cullen's bedchambers. While Isabeau hoped to be brief, she also reached down for Cullen's own platter of fruit and fried eggs, deciding he was unlikely to make a trip to his solar. He'll be asleep. Pop your head in, make sure the lad still breathes and be done with it. She ruefully shook her head at her own musings as she pushed open one of the double doors, finding herself facing a Cullen who was not only sitting up against the headboard of his bed but was also very awake.

And still very shirtless. Oh Maker…

Isabeau softly cleared her throat, "Ser Cullen… good morrow," she began as she made her way to his bedside, feigning nonchalance as she placed the platter of food at his bedside and pulled up a nearby chair.

"Inquisitor, to you as well. I uh… I apologize for the state of undress. Had I known you would be visiting...?" Cullen began before a large hand reached up and behind his head to rub his neck. The small smile he offered her as he reached for his plate of eggs after was damn near sheepish, Isabeau's own body in clear rebellion as his words agonizingly sent her back to the previous nights events. There was only so much skin a low cut chemise and bodice could manage to hide. Isabeau had prided herself on her usual stoicism, but the intimacy of the previous nights escapades were not lost on her, the resulting gawkiness upsetting her careful decisiveness. Before her was a man she spoke war with, clashed steel in camaraderie… and after one night their well-oiled rapport was crumbling like a feeble wall around her.

Out with it, be direct and be honest. This is Cullen.

"How are you feeling?" she asked instead.

Cullen chewed and swallowed the eggs he had just forked into his mouth, his adam's apple bobbing under the flesh of his thick neck. "Well, my lady. You are kind to have brought me this to break my fast."

Isabeau nodded and the pair sat in an awkward silence, Cullen quietly eating while Isabeau became increasingly fascinated with the textures of the mason work above his head. Even while fleshing out some of the tougher decisions with her advisors, some of whom Cullen had a tendency to… disagree with, the pair had never shared an awkward moment between them. Cullen himself could put Isabeau's continence to shame at the best of times. Perhaps it was more prudent for her to simply assure her relief he was well and leave it unspoken?

Cullen evidently had different plans, surprising Isabeau as he spoke up.

"Inquisitor, I fear I know why you are here this morn and I would be grateful should you allow me the opportunity to explain myself?"

Explain what? You were tortured and left to die in a tower full of demons? Explain your insane Commander had damn near killed you, and now trollops about in your dreams with sexy visions of mage sluts? My own person now included, no less.

Isabeau frowned at herself, reaching up to rub the sides of her forehead with her thumb and ring finger. Cullen turned his head slightly to the side, his eyes downcast as he continued.

"You are right to be displeased with me; it was a risk I should not have taken without your knowledge or leave. There is no excuse for jeopardizing our efforts. I misjudged my own readiness and you nearly paid the consequence of my oversight. Should you-"

Isabeau raised her hand, silencing Cullen mid sentence.

Direct. Honest.

"Cullen, tell me true… do you recall what exactly transpired last night?"

While Cullen had regained some of his colour after his illness the previous night, he blanched again at Isabeau's question, shame shadowing his handsome features as he nodded once in confirmation. Isabeau stood and dared to drag the chair she sat upon closer to Cullen's beside, worrying at her bottom lip as she considered her next words carefully.

"Please… don't be ashamed. Maker knows I haven't had one night's decent rest since the Fade decided to chew me up and spit me back out," she began, looking down at her hands as she absently rubbed her fingers and clarified, "The first time, I should say. You were true with me and I owe it in turn; I have harbored… my suspicions of our shared condition since our evening routine really took form."

Cullen smiled tiredly, knowing she spoke of their many late nights in the war room.

Isabeau raised her pale eyes this time to meet Cullen's green, "We don't have to talk of it, ever. What happened in the Fade; I can empathize with the ramifications of a demons torment more than you can realize," she reached out and, as she had the night before, took Cullen's large hand in her own. "The only explanation I would have of you is this Lyrium nonsense. The Fade doesn't have to make sense but… you are my most trusted advisor. Please tell me why you couldn't have asked for help?"

Cullen's face softened before he sighed in reply, "Were it so easy. Your compassion is appreciated but it is a flame I must bear and have alone. You have my sincerest apologies for this debacle I've caused, my lady."

Isabeau's small but calloused hand gave Cullen's a reassuring squeeze as she rose from her seat beside him. Enough for today, but...

"Well enough," she said gently before straightening to attention befit her position, "Cullen, you will begin a monitored and controlled reduction of Lyrium intake. I will be arranging this program for you with the assistance of Solas and only Solas. You will meet with me when possible to go over your progress, unless I am away from the Keep. Solas is a good and skilled man Cullen, he can help you. Kindly let him… that's an order."

He nodded slowly in acceptance, "And my duties?

"I am postponing all of my engagements until further notice and will be remaining at the Keep unless dire consequences demand otherwise. Your Lieutenant-General will assume your non-critical duties as your General is currently treating with Bann Teagan. I will preside over your more vital responsibilities in the mean time. "

Cullen's back visibly straightened, his mouth pressed into a firm line as he nodded his acquiescence, "Yes, Inquisitor."

Isabeau sighed and relaxed, turning to the table that ran along the wall between the tall windows of Cullen's chambers. She poured half a cup of wine and filled the remaining half with water, bringing it to Cullen to drink. He took it from her hand with thanks as she stood before him, her arms crossed. "You may carry on per usual in the interim, but when you are upon your final doses, you are to be confined to your chambers. After you have recovered, barring any protestations from Solas, you may begin to return to your usual tasks."

With a gentle bow of her head, Isabeau turned to leave the bedchamber.

"Isabeau?"

She turned then to find him looking at her appreciatively, Isabeau smiling at the sound of her name on his lips. Are we at first name basis now, ser knight?

"Yes, Cullen?"

"Thank you… m-my lady," he said, the faintest hint of a blush creeping across his cheeks as he stammered. The ache in Isabeau's chest became a veritable clench and she couldn't help but smile warmly at her lion.

"You are most welcome Cullen."