For this ficlet, I was asked in a prompt on tumblr to write the scene where Cullen finds Gwyn after the events of "In your Heart Shall Burn."
"His Name"
As Cullen walked through the snow searching for tracks, for any sign of life on the horizon, he couldn't help but think about the way she'd turned her head away in the Chantry.
"But what of your escape?" The words were dripping with concern as Gwyn promptly avoided his gaze. She turned her back to him, the brief silence that filled the space between them felt like hours rather than seconds. That was it, he realized. She was preparing for the inevitable. His hands twitched as he resisted the urge to reach out, to draw her closer, to reassure her somehow.
"Perhaps you will surprise it somehow, find a way…" The words seemed ridiculous to him as they poured from his mouth, thick with uncertainty. Before he left her, all he could think to tell her was, "if we are to have a chance- if you are to have a chance- make that thing hear you." The words seemed ridiculous in his head now as his eyes scanned the mountains. Yet there was this undying hope that this woman- this foolish, brave woman- would be the one to find a way.
Gwyn. The day she told him her name left a small smile on his lips just thinking about it. Strawberries in hand, juice on her face as she snuck from the kitchens. The lie she'd started with, how she had sucked in a breath when he reached to wipe the juice off her face, and the way she'd said her name to him. She was something else that Cullen couldn't quite place. Funny, stubborn…but, above all, kind.
Despite their disagreements they'd had in previous conversations, she always came to him. She'd sit on a nearby tree stump, watching attentively as he barked orders at men. He noticed the way she'd smile in his direction, the way she'd wait until he allowed the men a brief break before approaching him to simply talk. He never asked too much about her, he realized. He recalled their discussions of the Circle and how she had stiffened when he mentioned family, how she had fumbled with her hands until she excused herself.
Now, in the vast white, all he wanted to do was ask her questions. Did she have brothers? A sister, maybe? It seemed a cruel joke that the Maker would send her to them, only to pull her away at a moments notice. If she lived…if- when they found her, he wanted to know her better. He wanted to be kinder to her, the way she had not judged him for any of his distance. The darkness was settling in already. Leliana frowned as Cassandra pushed forward.
"Perhaps we should return to camp, we cannot afford to lose anyone else," she offered. Cassandra spun on her heels, disgust lining her face.
"No, Gwy-" Cullen almost winced at the sound of Cassandra saying her name. It seemed too fresh a wound already. "She wouldn't abandon one of us-dead or alive," Cassandra finished, gripping her torch tightly.
"All I'm saying is that if-" Leliana caught the stern look from both Cullen and Cassandra, "IF she's out there, she could be buried under snow. There's no way…." Leliana trailed off as Cassandra walked away, trudging through the untouched snow.
"She might have followed us," Cullen noted, referring to the small fires that had been lit when they'd rested. The wind howled around them and Cullen squinted as Cassandra groaned in exasperation.
"I can barely see anything in this," she scoffed. Cullen moved ahead of her. There was a clearing ahead; they'd stopped near there briefly. If Gwyn had any tracking experience, she would be there. He trudged in that direction as Cassandra rubbed her shoulders to generate some warmth. As he took each step, he found himself silently praying, begging even. Maker willing, if they found her, all Cullen wanted to do was talk to her. Learn more about her. Hear that laugh that seemed to echo in every part of Haven. He wanted to be honest with her, wanted her to understand him more. If the Maker could just…he looked up to see a shadow in the blowing snow- it was standing weakly at the top of the clearing. He squinted, unsure if it was just his imagination, and watched as the figure dropped to their knees.
"There! It's her!" He broke out into a run, forgetting the amount of snow beneath him.
"Thank the Maker," Cassandra shouted, following after. As Cullen dropped to Gwyn's side, he realized just how dire her situation was. Forgetting formality, forgetting the Inquisition, he touched her face. It was only for a moment but there was no warmth in her cheeks like the day he'd fondly remembered. No color. Her breathing was ragged, it was possible she was having difficulty.
"She's freezing. We need to get her back to Mother Giselle and the healers," Cassandra murmured. Leliana was already running back to the glow of orange and red lights below as Cullen pulled his cloak off and wrapped it around Gwyn's frame.
"I'll carry her," he whispered, lifting her in his arms. It was strange that she weighed very little to him. The amount of force he'd seen her exert in battle could only be compared to that of a warrior's. As he began to walk, he thought he saw her eyelids flutter. Could she hear them? "You're alright, I've got you. We're going to take you back to camp. We're going to get you help," he kept his voice low, not even sure she could hear it over the wailing of the wind around them. It was when he heard his name leave her lips that he almost had to stop in his tracks. It was quiet, small. Beautiful, even. Looking down at Gwyn, it hardly seemed like she'd said anything at all. Maybe she hadn't.
As they approached the camp and he moved to set her on a cot, he'd brushed it off- leaving it all up to his imagination. He rubbed his neck absentmindedly as Mother Giselle and other healers examined her body. After quickly applying the necessary poultices, they covered her with thick blankets and monitored her closely.
"Large bruises on her back and wrist…surprisingly no broken bones that we can tell of. Small cuts here and there that can be easily mended….it's the cold we have to worry about. We don't know how long she was out there," she informed Cullen, Josephine, Leliana, and Cassandra.
"Why didn't she warm herself up? She specializes in fire magic, I just-" Cassandra was almost stammering. "Mages need energy to do so. I imagine after everything you described happening, coupled with the extreme cold….she must've been exhausted."
"I shouldn't have left her. She told us to move, to run. I looked back but…I shouldn't have left her," Cassandra shook her head as she hugged her body with her arms. Immediately Mother Giselle placed reassuring hands on her shoulder.
"No one knew what evil was waiting for us, for her. It's a miracle she made it back to us alive at all."
Cullen looked back at Gwyn's body resting nearby. He stood at the foot of the cot as a healer finally approached him.
"Would you like your cloak back, ser?" He motioned to the material still wrapped around Gwyn's body.
"No, that's not necessary," he waved the healer off as his mouth formed a tight line. Wake up. Please. He tried to think of those blue eyes dancing as she walked with him to the war room, the way she said his name like it was a song. He thought of her musical laughter, the way she'd ask to sit next to him during dinner even if he hadn't touched his plate.
"You gonna eat that roll?" She'd ask, grinning.
"Maybe," Cullen retorted, glancing at his paperwork.
"Is that a maybe I can have it?" Cullen rolled his eyes as he set his work down.
"What if I wanted it?"
"Well, you haven't touched it," she chided. These conversations usually ended with him eating bits off his plate, which he later realized was just a trick she'd use to get him to eat something.
These thoughts were interrupted when he heard her speak.
"Cullen." It was still quiet and her voice was rough, but there was no mistaking it now as healers moved to her side glancing over at him suspiciously. He would be lying if he said it wasn't the most wonderful thing to grace his ears. She was moving- just shifting in the cot slightly as her eyes fluttered open.
"Cullen?" She said it again; this time it was a question, like she was looking for him. Slowly he approached and sat down in the empty cot beside her.
"You're alright. A little battered but you're safe," he told her quietly, a smile that she was gaining consciousness spreading over his face. "Just get some rest," he whispered, patting the edge of her cot as she nodded weakly. He moved to stand but Gwyn's hand was now on top of his, her fingers now filled with warmth. The healers around her shifted their glances as Cullen's ears reddened.
"Thank you." It was a whisper, hoarse and weak. The sound alone caused his heart to soar as he moved to his feet and exited the tent.
Outside, Leliana was grinning. "Your face looks a bit red there, Commander," she hinted. Cullen felt heat rise to his cheeks once more, yet at the same time he felt like he had just won a tournament of sorts. He replayed the moment in his head as he approached his tent and pulled out a map to study. As his fingers traced the material of the map, he couldn't help but feel the corners of his lip turn upward at the ghost of Gwyn's touch on the top of his hand. She'd said his name. His.