Diana did not sleep.

She took her dress off and her slippers off and she changed into a nightshirt and laid on her back in her bed, but she she did not sleep. She could not.

The weight of Cullen's palm on her wrist was still there.

She wasn't sure how she felt. Was she ashamed? Embarrassed? Angry that he had made such a demand for truth from her? Diana wished she felt any of those - but she didn't feel anything at all. She tossed and turned all night, wishing she was feeling… something.

Anything.

Anything would be better than this, the numb inhuman feeling that had settled up into her chest and made her lose her appetite and made her forget how to act like herself. Herself. What did that mean, anyway? Who was she now? As Diana Trevelyan she had been fun, playful; a mostly carefree daughter of a bann. Then she was the Herald and the Inquisitor and the fun and energy she once had was sapped from her and replaced by stress, responsibility, and the guilt of death and danger.

And now… now she just felt like no one at all.

Diana waited until sunrise to get dressed in a too-big shirt that had once been Alec's and a pair of loose trousers that Rosalie had tailored down for her. She was waiting when Rosalie knocked on her door, but apparently the stress of the last night's event as well as her lack of sleep made her look even worse than she had imagined. The innkeeper took one look at Diana's face and shooed her back to bed.

"You just rest up, alright? We're going to be taking a trip to the lake, so if you do feel better feel free to walk over and meet us." The lake was more of a pond, but its water was clean and its shallow waters would surely be warm by now. Diana nodded, although she knew she had no plans of joining them later. Not as long as Cullen would be there.

She pulled her covers up and flipped onto her side as Rosalie left the room.

Eventually, she did fall into a fitful sleep, but it wasn't deep and it didn't last long and ended rather abruptly when she felt something wet and snuffling on the back of her neck. She jerked awake, dark eyes searching wildly.

A gray mabari with big white spots was standing at the edge of her bed, his tail wiggling happily as he saw that she was now awake. Diana flipped around again so her head would be facing her door and saw that it was ajar. "Did you open my door?" she questioned, reaching out to scratch the mabari's head. He gave no answer, but he looked pleased with himself. "What do you want, then, huh?"

He lifted his huge front paws and placed them on her bed, cocking his head in a questioning matter. Diana rolled her eyes, then patted the mattress encouragingly. He wasted no time in jumping into her bed, turning in a circle a few times, and then plopping himself down at the foot of her bed. Well, he tried to lay at the foot of her bed but he was so massive he ended up also laying on her feet and ankles.

Diana looked at her slightly-open bedroom door. Well. Most of the inn was occupied by relatives of either Alec or Rosalie and they were probably all down at the lake… plus she had this giant mabari pinning her legs to her bed, so she supposed she was just going to have to try to sleep with her door open.

Miraculously, she was able to sleep. Maybe it was the comforting weight of the dog or maybe it was just the fact that she hadn't been able to sleep very much at all for the past few days, but Diana slept in a dreamless slumber for many hours. When she woke, the sun looked like it was about to set.

The mabari was still there, but he had moved to the floor and was snoring lightly on her thin rug.

"Roger? Come on, you've slept long enough, leave her be…"

A firm whisper came from her open door. She watched fingers push the door open gently and then there was Cullen, his gaze first settling on the mabari's sleeping form and then widening as he noticed she was awake.

He was wearing a dark gray tunic with a large neckline, which he tugged on briefly as he cleared his throat. "Oh. You're… awake. I didn't mean to disturb you."

She shrugged, swinging her legs off of the bed and sitting upright. "I was awake."

"Oh. Good. I'm glad you got some rest," he said, then gestured to the mabari. "I came by earlier, but you were asleep so I thought I'd just leave him in here for a while."

"Thanks."

He stood awkwardly in her doorway, looking as if he wanted to enter and leave simultaneously. Eventually he sighed, looking defeated, and came into her bedroom. Cullen shut the door behind him. She tried not to look surprised; Cullen was usually very prim and proper and he must really need to speak privately to her if he was entering her bedroom.

"I… wanted to apologize for last night," he said, sinking into the wooden chair next to her table.

"There's no need," she said quietly, her eyes watching the mabari instead of Cullen. "I understand why you'd be angry."

"Angry?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Inquisitor, I wasn't-"

"Don't, please," her voice was a whisper and she looked up to meet his eyes. "Don't call me that."

His mouth pressed into a tight line and he nodded, shoulders drooping slightly. There was silence for a while before he took a deep breath and spoke again. "I assume Rosalie and Alec know nothing of your true identity."

"They don't." The words came from her mouth surprisingly easy. Maybe it was the fact that she was being honest for the first time in several months. She was Diana again, for now. No lies. It was easier in a way. She hesitated, then spoke again. "I didn't know she was your sister. I would never have intentionally…"

She trailed off. Intentionally what? Intentionally used his sister for… for what? Her game of pretend? Used her to forget who she was for a while, before that fantasy came crashing down with his arrival?

"Nor did I know that you were - are - her Lena," he said. He reached down to scratch the top of the mabari's - Roger's - head. The dog lazily opened an eye but did not move otherwise.

"But you did recognize me? Eventually?"

Cullen glanced at her. "I recognized you instantly ," he said quickly, then cleared his throat. "I mean, I spent hours sitting across from you in meetings, we fought in battle together... Of course I recognized you. You're the Inquisitor."

"I haven't been called that in a while."

"Does it make it easier? Not hearing your title?"

"Not really," she admitted.

They both fell quiet, then, and both sat in silence for a few minutes. The only sound in the room was from Roger, who had seemingly fallen asleep again, as he snored and whimpered as he dreamed in his sleep.

"I… I can understand why you wouldn't want to be yourself," Cullen said after a while, his forehead creasing. He opened his mouth to speak again, then closed it. After a moment he began again. "There was a time I didn't want to be myself, either. Before the Inquisition, before Kirkwall, even, I used to be stationed at a Circle in Ferelden. Not far from here, actually."

He glanced at her, looking for a reaction. She gave him nothing.

"My time there, ah, came to an end. A bloody, nightmarish end. The mages - they - well, they turned into abominations. My friends - the templars - were slaughtered in front of me," Cullen's voice was shaking slightly and his hands, which had previously been resting on his knees, curled into tight fists. "I was tortured and I became angry and cruel and when I was finally freed I was sent to Kirkwall where I stayed angry and cruel and - well. You know how that ended. Everyone does." A mirthless laugh escaped his lips.

"I didn't know, Cullen," she said quietly. A year or two ago, she might have put her hand on his. She might have moved to comfort him, to embrace and whisper murmurs of encouragement. But now she only sat.

"Not many know," he admitted, then lifted his amber eyes to meet hers. She felt petrified by the vulnerability she saw behind them, the intensity, the honesty. Diana looked away. "I tell you this so you'll… you'll see. There is an end. There were days - months - where I was sure I would be consumed by my nightmares, my guilt and yet I - I'm here. Now. The memories don't go away and the nightmares still happen, but… they have no power over my waking moments anymore."

She could feel him still watching her, waiting for an answer or a reaction.

What could she say?

"I'm glad for you," she said finally, standing and clearing her throat. She still refused to meet his gaze, looking anywhere but into those honest eyes of his. "We should go meet the others."