A/N: Woah. So I originally planned this to be quite funny and crack-based, but then.. well, my brain got in the way, and it got srs. I'm kind of hanging on for dear life at this juncture. Things are about to get real. Much love to all my readers, and my lovely reviewer coldblossom - sorry, but it will get worse before it gets better 3
Much, much love to Crisium, who has kindly let me play in her sandbox. Therrin and Stephen are, of course, from her wonderful works. Everything else is owned by Bioware and I make no profit, etc etc. Audrey is all mine and, although her name is not a typical Fereldan name, she is based only very loosely on a different Audrey. Which will probably become clear.
The plant is definitely bigger, she thinks. Having alerted the royal couple that the man had awoken again with no ill side effects, she had been charged with escorting him around for a few days – paid, of course. The queen had made sure of that. So here she was, sitting in the garden whilst he fussed over the blighted branches of his roses, staring at the patch of ground where she had just two days ago found him prone and weak. His new discovery sits in the middle of the bushes, and he works around it. She wonders why.
"Did you decide on a name?" she asks tentatively, and he turns to face her, shears in hand.
"I did previously think to name the plant after our king and queen," he assents after a moment. "But after the.. incident, I have decided to name the plant after you, if that is alright."
"M-me?" She freezes, eyes wide. "B-but I didn't do anything.. I just f-found you, it was Stephen that saved your life.."
"Queen Therrin was quite clear about to whom I owe my life, Miss Audrey." He smiles softly, and she blinks – his eyes look a little different today. "I intend to name it Audrey the Second, of course. It will never be comparable to the first." Is he flirting? The blush across her face feels like it will burn her skin off. "Although I have my concerns about what kind of plant it will be categorised as," he continues, turning to look at the dark leaves. "I think it may, in fact, be a weed."
"O-oh." And that stings a little, she thinks as she fans her face, but she smiles slightly. "Have you learned much about it?"
"Only a few things. I must first work out how to take cuttings, and grow more plants from it. This way, I shall find out the optimal conditions for it." He regards the plant carefully, his hands in his lap as he kneels down. She shuffles in her seat for a moment before hauling herself up, dusting off her skirts.
"Would you mind if I had a look?" she murmurs, stepping forward, and he whirls around on the balls of his feet, eyes slightly wide as she kneels next to him, arm outstretched to feel the plant. He glances down, already fearing the worst as the flower bud begins to open up in response to her body heat, the thin rows of sharp teeth still stained from the last feed. Without thinking, he lunges at her, knocking her off her haunches and onto her back with a small gasp of surprise. Looking back at the plant, he narrows his eyes slightly as the bud recedes, denied fresh blood.
"Mister C-Cullen.." She blinks quickly, her breath coming in small mouthfuls as she tries not to stare; the man had bowled her over and was now leaning on his arms above her. He glances down at her impassively and she can feel her cheeks heat up underneath that not-quite-blank gaze. "W-what.."
"Did you not see?"
"S-see what? Was there a b-bee?"
He smiles suddenly, and there is something in those eyes again, something that was not there a few days ago. She feels a pull at her courage, a desire to know what that something was. "Yes, Miss Audrey. I am sorry to have startled you over something so small."
"A-actually I'm allergic to beestings, s-so.. you s-sort of just s-saved my life." She smiles shyly, and he reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her heart is racing and her mind, so full of questions about his strange behaviour before, is now blissfully blank as she breathes in, wanting this moment to hold for just a little longer. But he pushes himself up, offering her a hand, and it is gone.
Allowing him to help her up, she brushes the grass off her dress before returning her gaze to the strange plant, mindful of any bees lingering around. But as Cullen takes her arm lightly and guides her back to her chair, she cannot hear the telltale buzzing, which was something of a relief.
To Cullen, most of the world is muted; it is like everything is mostly grey, washed out and uninteresting. There are colours, of course – he is not blind, they just do not interest him. He thinks, sometimes, that in his past life, before the castle and the garden and the roses, the world must have been in glorious technicolour. But he does not remember, and he does not miss it. Much.
He sits in the garden. The sky is dark above him, and the castle around him quiet. Cross-legged in front of his new hobby, he waits for the bud to emerge. This is becoming a ritual, almost – nightly communes with the impossible plant. Eventually, it comes. Teeth bared, it gestures at him softly and he feels its presence in the back of his mind.
"Hello," he murmurs. The plant waves a tendril in acknowledgement. "What happened today.. cannot happen again. You must not attack Miss Audrey, ever. The only source of food is me. This is our deal." The plant nods, and he offers a hand. Teeth clamp into his fingers, a ghost of a wince passing across his face as the entity feeds on his blood. Through the mental connection, he is shown a strange world.
There is black everywhere, though it is the most vivid colour he has ever seen. Everything is tainted with it in some way, and for a moment he wonders if this is the Blight he is seeing. Then the world melts away, and there is the queen – no, Therrin, he thinks with an unfamiliar pang. She is tired, he can see that in her face. And she is so close to crying, and she is talking – to him, asking him how long they have been married, and there is a pain in his chest at that, which makes so little sense to him now. But it seems like it was once important.
And there is Stephen, so much younger here, and Leliana the bard and Teagan – his face is kind but there are words of marriage floating around him – and the king, still the king, always the king.. everything comes in a rush of lights and he wrenches his hand back with a cry, panting heavily. The plant nudges his foot gently, tilting its head slightly.
You wish to remember.
He shakes his head slightly in disbelief, clutching his sore hand and staring at the alien plant. Wrapping his fingers in his robe, he stems the bleeding before standing up, swaying slightly.
I am not unkind.
And the world comes back to Cullen in a blur of colour.
"What in the name of the Maker is going on here?"
Stephen is sweating slightly and Therrin is pale, her face drawn as they both tend to Cullen for the second time in the week. Alistair had found him this time, sneaking into the garden to pluck a bloom for his wife, he had stumbled upon the collapsed gardener, shivering and drenched in sweat. Audrey had been sent for, and now he was resigned to pacing again – though this time they were all together.
"It just doesn't make sense. He was cut again, right?" he continues, frowning. Therrin nods, her eyes fixed on the marks along each of his fingers. "But no culprit. We doubled the guard, we've had Audrey around, she hasn't reported anything.. this doesn't make sense!"
"Alistair, we are all fully aware of the situation," snaps Therrin, but her eyes are soft as he kneels by her, their hands finding each other.
"Sorry," he murmurs mulishly, and she sighs slightly as he nuzzles her neck.
"I know." Beside them, Cullen fits slightly and they break apart, the tension in the room still high. Stephen places a hand on the man's forehead, his own marred with a frown.
Behind them, the door opens and an agitated Audrey descends on the group, tearful and trembling as she clutches Cullen's hand. She murmurs softly to him, unintelligible words that Alistair can barely even hear never mind decipher, and Therrin has to coax the girl off him gently.
"Audrey, dear, come away.. I know it looks bad, but he'll be fine, I promise." Alistair runs a hand through his hair, sharing a glance with Stephen before pacing again. The elven maid allows herself to be led into a seat, still shaking.
"I-I don't understand," she murmurs softly. "I th-thought.. he was f-fine before.." Therrin kneels by her chair, brushing a strand of hair from her face with an understanding smile.
"It's alright. When he wakes up, we'll ask him. If he really can't remember.. well, we'll keep him out of the garden for a few days, see how that goes." The king nods agreement, but Audrey could not look more horrified.
"B-but his entire life is in the garden.. your Majesty -"
"Please, just Therrin.." the queen says with the tone of someone who is tired of correcting people.
"- you simply can't, it's all he has left!" Alistair stops dead in his tracks, eyes fixed on his wife. She could be a statue right now, her shoulders stiff and fixed at the maid's words. For a moment the air is still, and he thinks of the calm before the storm.
And then Therrin reminds him why he is in love with her.
"Audrey." Her voice is soft, but the room is hanging on to her every word. "If Cullen cannot remember the events that have led him to the healers twice, then we have to look out for him, even if it pains us to do so. We do not have the luxury of being able to pander to his desires when his life may be at risk. Alistair and I.. we have a responsibility to him, to keep him safe." She smiles slightly, squeezing Audrey's fingers. "I think, out of the pair of us, you would be better suited to take care of his happiness right now." And Alistair is not exactly sure how women just know this sort of thing, but clearly he has missed a trick somewhere. Audrey is blushing and nodding and for a moment he thinks that Therrin has a new friend, a real friend who is not about to run off back to Orlais because of his idiot uncle -
"Therrin..?"
Heads whip around. Cullen is struggling to sit up, but the change in him is already obvious. He instinctively looks to Therrin, the shock on her face a picture in itself as she extends a trembling hand to touch his wrist. And then his arms are around her, one hand stroking her hair as he murmurs softly to her. Stephen pulls back, standing beside Alistair for a moment. The king watches for a second, before beckoning Audrey to follow him out.
Cullen is back, and Alistair is not a fool.