Chapter Six
Night. Heavy and dark, it closes around her. In her bunk, Solona feels smothered under the weight. No light penetrates the room yet there are shadows everywhere. They move around her, creeping ever closer.
She is in the Fade; realm of dreams . . . and nightmares.
Her pulse picks up. If this is the Fade, then is this her Harrowing? Has the time come? She always expected something . . . different.
A flicker grabs her attention and she looks towards it. There is a light coming from the hallway. Her feet brush the floor, bare skin on hard stone. There are no rugs here. She's at the door. In the long, curving corridor, she can see a candle, its flame jumping.
The feeling of dread in her stomach gives her pause and she is momentarily frozen in place.
The candle flickers again.
It calls to her. She steps into the hallway.
"Little Lona. Where are you going?"
"Mother?"
When she spins around, there is no one behind her. But, it was definitely her Mother's voice calling for her. Solona turns back and jumps in surprise. There's a templar standing directly in front of her. He folds his hands. The way his gray sash is tied . . . she can tell its Cullen. She smiles with relief. Surely, if he's here she'll be all right.
His hand raises and he reaches for her. There's something wrong with the way he takes a step forward. He moves with a jerkiness that is unlike him. He steps closer again, his hand grasping towards her. Towards her throat. "Cullen? What are you doing?"
She screams as the metal gauntlet closes at the base of her neck and he's driving her to her knees before him. She sees the shining sword he holds in his other hand. Watches as it raises high. "Maleficar!" His voice booms and Solona realizes that this is not Cullen.
The gleaming eyes that stare down at her are lifeless.
Not Cullen. Not-
The hand moves upwards, to her throat, and she can't breathe.
Solona comes awake with a jerk. She sits up so fast that she falls out of bed and lands on the thread bare rug next to her bunk with a bone-jarring thump. She lays there for a moment, her breathing coming in gasps yet not allowing enough air. Not Cullen. Just a dream. Just a dream.
Her throat contracts and her neck still hurts where the templar's hand had been.
"Lona? You okay? You were screaming." Neria's voice floats across the room to her. In the mostly empty dorm, the elf sounds like she's miles away.
Solona pushes herself up. She has to be sure; she needs to see him. She's out the door; behind her she hears Neria call her name again. Not Cullen.
Cullen!
Right in front of her she sees the templar. Her templar. Right where he always is on night duty. He hears her approaching and turns just as she crashes into his chest. "Solona, what-?"
"Please, take off your helm. Please. Cullen!" He holds her at arm's length and looks her up and down, probably searching for injury. She must look a fright; she can feel the tears that are streaming down her cheeks. The tears burn.
He hesitates for another moment while she pleads softly just take off the helm before his hands come up and remove the metal. She's so relieved; she crumples into his chest again. The helm falls to the floor with a clatter and his hands come up to her shoulders. She cries harder.
He says nothing as the fear of her nightmare slowly drains from her body with every shake of her frame. Slowly his hands move to cradle her better and one even starts rubbing circles on her back. His cheek comes to rest against her forehead. His arms are comforting and feel like the most natural place in the world for her to be.
When her breathing evens out he murmurs against her hairline, "Did you have a nightmare?"
She nods. "I'm scared out of my mind about my Harrowing tomorrow. I keep having these terrible dreams and you're in them, but it's not really you. It's like your evil twin, striking me down." She feels his adam's apple dipping as he swallows hard. His face is kinda scratchy, now that she thinks about it. He needs to shave.
"I would never strike you down. Not unless I absolutely had to."
She wishes he sounded more convinced of that. "You're always comforting me. I suppose that fulfills the protect part of your job description, huh?" She means the words to be light hearted. Somehow, it makes him hold on tighter. He says nothing, just continues to rub her back. She relaxes into the touch and the last grips of the dream are slowly letting go of her mind. They stand, wrapped in each other, for what seems like an eternity.
"Do you feel better?" There is an open tenderness in his words that twists in her gut. His embrace loosens. She should let go. If someone were to catch them . . . bad. Very bad. She doesn't want to, though. She wants to hold on tighter; so tight that she sinks through his armor to the man underneath. His arms are falling away and she finally allows him to step back.
"Yes. I do. Thank you." She doesn't mean to sound so formal. She can't help it. He shifts uncomfortably, folding his hands at his back. Her dream flickers into her mind again. Not Cullen. He probably wants her to go.
"I'm sorry I kissed you."
It's the only thing she can think to say. This situation is spiraling away from her and she feels the need to explain. "It's just- you're unlike anyone I've ever met before. You're so nice and smart. I could talk to you for hours about anything. I know you think what happened was wrong; I don't want to do anything that could hurt our friendship. Losing that would be devastating, especially after-" Her voice trails off, not quite mentally strong enough to say Shuul's name out loud. Not at this moment.
She wonders how she has put aside Neria's suggestion that she could convince Cullen to kiss her again. To sleep with her. She thinks that Cullen would truly be lost to her, though, should that occur. The impact of their friendship hits fully then and she closes her eyes against the thought of not having it. "I just . . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you in that sort of situation."
When her eyes open he's staring at her. This is an expression she cannot read. The closest guess she might make is somewhere between a rueful acceptance and gratitude. Strange indeed. Cullen says nothing, which only makes his face all the more confusing.
"I, uh . . . guess I should get back to sleep. Big day tomorrow and all." How she could possibly sleep now, she can't even comprehend. But, she needs to try. She needs all the strength she can muster.
Finally, as she's about to go back to her bunk, he nods. "I appreciate your consideration." He sounds so formal now as well. Awkward, even, like their first conversations when she surprised him just by talking to him. "I wish you luck tomorrow. I'm sure you'll do very well." The clipped tones of an acquaintance sort of break her heart all over again.
"Thank you, Ser Cullen." Her voice is a whisper.
Solona thinks that the wince she sees cross his face is just a figment of her imagination as she turns and walks away.