Hello! I couldn't resist posting this chapter right away. We're starting to get to the good stuff! This chapter is in Cullen's POV.
Another sincere thanks to the influx of people that began following this story after the last chapter.
I would also like to thank Gidgeygirl for her review of Chapter 8! Your feedback was seriously appreciated and I'm a rather big fan of Dorian myself, he's a fun character in the game and equally entertaining to write :D
Enjoy!
She did it. It actually worked…
Cullen couldn't help but smile, observing as the Herald along with help of the mages, actually sealed the Breach. It was a momentous victory, not just for Ellie or for the Inquisition, but for all of Thedas.
Up until this point, he had still been conflicted about allowing the mages to help. He wanted to trust Ellie, to share her ideals regarding their involvement. But between his own past dealings with them and the amount of other former Templars he had under his command in the Inquisition who only kindled his underlying panic, he couldn't commit to being anything more than neutral and diplomatic towards them, at best.
But, the Commander marveled, she was right.
Her faith in their abilities was well founded and there hadn't yet been a single instance of possession. Now that the Breach was sealed, they no longer needed the mages, per se, but he felt more at ease having them around if they happened to stay. He would still keep a watchful eye though, ensuring his mental focus was sharp if he needed to act but prayed it would not come to that.
He was honestly a little nervous about using his abilities now. He knew it could be done with enough determination and control. He didn't need lyrium. But there was a dark part of him that still craved it so badly. When he had resolved to quit using the blue substance as he joined the Inquisition, he hadn't had a strong urge to use it again, at least not more than you would expect from someone going through withdrawal. But when the mages had been allied with the Inquisition, his resistance nearly waned. With the effects of withdrawal getting increasingly severe, he felt both exhausted, pained and tormented with each passing moment. He wasn't sure how he was able to endure it, or if he could.
He grimaced, clenching his fists, I can endure it, and I will.
Back at Haven, morale was higher than he had ever seen it. As soon as they stared arriving back, they were greeted with drinking and dancing from everyone who had stayed home and saw that the foreboding green hole in the sky was gone. The troops and mages took full advantage of the festivities, gathering around a large fire and celebrating. It was heartwarming to see everyone enjoying themselves together as equals. Cullen doubted it would last past this evening, but it was an optimistic change, if only temporary.
The Commander casually walked through Haven, getting his hand shaken occasionally by one of his elated soldiers. As Cullen moved through the thrall of people, he noticed the absence of a particular person, the one whose very actions was the source of their joy this evening.
Stepping away to get the best view, he scanned the crowd, meticulously searching for her doll-like face and her halo of light hair which he had noticed she had worn in a neat ponytail today. He furrowed his brow when he couldn't seem to find her, but just as he had almost given up hope, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Low and behold, to his delight it was the Herald, standing off in the distance alone, quietly observing the celebration.
He couldn't help but grin at the sight of her and slipped through the people to stand beside her. As he approached, he noticed the faint troubled look that graced her pretty features. She was leaning on her side against a few stacked wooden boxes, arms crossed over her torso. Cullen silently placed himself next to her as nonchalantly as possible. He hated how starting a simple conversation with this woman made his palms sweat.
She didn't seem to acknowledge him being beside her. He rubbed the back of his head anxiously, trying to think of some brilliant thing to say. He didn't possess the wit and charm that Tevinter did, the one whom Ellie seemed to take such a shine to. He fought a snarl at the thought.
"Not one for parties?" He offered, trying not to sound too shaky.
It was then that she regarded him, the corners of her rosy lips curling as she met his eyes. "Normally I am," she responded lightheartedly. But then her tone changed, becoming more serious, "Finally closing the Breach was a huge victory, but after what I saw in Redcliffe, I fear that there are still darker things we need to worry about. We're not out of the woods yet I don't think."
He observed her silver eyes, how they seemed haunted, almost vulnerable as she spoke. "What happened at Redcliffe, what you saw in the future… It must have been truly horrific to have you, of all people, shaken up still."
"Maker, Cullen. If you would've seen what had happened," her distressed words had his full attention as she opened up to him, "There was red lyrium everywhere! Everyone in the dungeon was being exposed to it, to the point that it began to actually grow out of them. People would literally turn into red lyrium and then they would harvest it. When we found Solas and Bull, they looked so sickly and Leliana had been tortured almost til the point of death. I don't even want to know what happened to you." The last sentence she spoke was so quiet, Cullen almost didn't catch it. When he did, his stomach tightened at her concern for him and he had to remind himself that now was not the time.
"Ellie," he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to go through that, I wish I could've been there to do something, to keep you safe. But we will not let that future happen. I won't allow it."
She simply nodded, biting her lip.
He paused before he next spoke, trying to be certain it would be the right thing to say, "Is there anything I could do to cheer you up and at least enjoy tonight a little bit? We are all celebrating because of you, after all."
She returned the smile that played on his scarred lips, though hers looked more like a smirk. Her eyes flickered mischievously down his body and back up to his face, "Dance with me?"
His eyes grew wide and he almost choked on the air at her request, "I, um.."
The Commander's fumbled words were interrupted by the loud echoes of bells and both of their attentions were snapped towards the hill facing Haven. Without wasting a second, they both sprang into action. She left his side as he began sprinting towards the closed front gates.
"Forces approaching, to arms!" The Commander yelled to his troops.
By the time the Herald had made it back to him, Cassandra and others in tow, he had already received word from the watchguard as to the danger that threatened them.
Maker, why did Ellie have to be right?
The Seeker called to him, wanting to know who was attacking them and how urgent the situation was.
"One watchguard reporting. It's a massive force, the bulk over the mountains," Cullen did his utmost to sound as calm as possible so as not to raise unnecessary alarm, but their situation did not look good.
The ambassador approached, "Under what banner?"
He swallowed, "None."
"None?" Josephine asked in disbelief.
He watched as Ellie took a few tentative steps towards the sealed entrance, blades drawn when the gates started banging. There was a voice outside, pleading with them to let him in. When the guards looked at her hesitant to do anything, the Herald moved forward and opened the gates herself.
Cullen swiftly ran after the impulsive girl, sword drawn and ready to kill anyone that would dare harm her. They were met with a half dozen freshly made corpses and a thin man wearing a giant, floppy hat.
"I'm Cole, I came to warn you, to help," he reached out to Ellie and Cullen resisted the urge to take a swing at him before he continued speaking, his voice pleading, "People are coming to hurt you, you probably already know."
"What is this? What's going on?"
The boys voice became low, "The Templars come to kill you." At the admission, Cullen clenched his fist.
No, they can't be, he grit his teeth. "Templars?" The Commanders voice boomed as he stalked towards this Cole person, but before he took out his anger on him he turned towards Ellie, "Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?" He was in utter shock they would do such a thing.
"The Red Templars went to the Elder One," Cole whipped his head back to Ellie, "You know him? He knows you. You took his mages. There!"
They followed Cole's pointing finger up to a ridge near the base of the mountain. Cullen couldn't believe his eyes when he recognized the face next to this 'Elder One.'
Samson.
"He's very angry you took his mages," Cole said sheepishly.
"Cullen," Ellie's voice begged, "Give me a plan! Anything!"
"Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster, we have to control the battle," he advised her with the absolute disposition of a military commander, "Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you can!" The Commander drew his sword and left to give orders to the mages and recruits, warning them of the perilous leader at the helm of the opposing army.
Andraste, preserve us all…
Cullen was certain that this would mean the death of them all. He had watched the fiery ball being hurled into the mountainside, causing an avalanche that wiped out a significant amount of the attacking forces. There was premature applause when that blighted beast appeared, throwing any control they had regained in the avalanche out the window.
His mind was racing but he remained objective, not satisfied with accepting defeat until those bastards had thoroughly worked for it. He was in the Chantry, the only structure in the town that might offer some safety so they could come up with some kind of plan while the world outside was violent chaos.
He rounded the corner to the main hall when the wooden doors flew open revealing Ellie. He made a sound of relief. They may be destined to die this evening, but having her in his sight made him feel more reassured somehow.
"Herald, our positioning is not good," he announced softly as he drew closer to her small frame, "That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us."
"I've seen an archdemon," Cole spoke up, "I was in the Fade, but it looked like that."
Cullen was losing patience with the soft spoken boy, "I don't care what it looks like, it's cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven."
"The Elder One doesn't care about the village, he only wants the Herald."
Ellie didn't hesitate, "If it will save these people, he can have me." The Commander winced at her words.
Cole hung his head, "It won't. He wants to kill you. No one else matters but he'll kill them anyway. I don't like him."
Cullen made tight fists in his hands, not bothering to hide his utter frustration with Cole's childlike words, "You don't like..." He scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose, not bothering to finish his thought. Instead he turned fully towards Ellie, his eyes holding more emotion than he intended to show, "Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that could slow them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide."
She sighed, "We're overrun. To hit the enemy, we'd bury Haven."
He stepped closer to her, "We're dying. But we can decide how. Many don't get that choice."
The Commander's eyes didn't leave Ellie's, even when the Chancellor spoke up, saying that he knew of a secret passage in the Chantry that could lead them out of Haven before it was covered in thick snow. It wasn't until she broke their gaze to draw closer to Roderick that he refocused his attention to the dying man as well.
"What about it Cullen? Will it work?" The Herald turned back to him, willing this solution to be plausible.
He shrugged, not able to resist coming close to her again as she addressed him, "Possibly. If he shows us the path." He paused, "But what of your escape?"
Her body faced him but her head was cast downwards, her silence giving him his answer.
His eyebrows furrowed and his amber eyes felt as though they were filled with sadness. He didn't want to let that happen, it took every fibre in his body to stop her from going. But deep down, he knew it would be the only way to save what was left of the residents of Haven.
"Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way?" He offered hopefully.
Her gaze still cast down, he watched as she did that adorable thing where she chewed her bottom lip. Knowing that he would not see that again, not see her again hit him like he had taken a hard blow to the stomach.
Suddenly her stormy grey eyes flicked upwards to him. In a sweeping motion, she took a half step forward, closing the distance between their bodies, raising herself on her tiptoes and tilted her face up to the side of his. Her lips landed softly on his stubble covered cheek and she held them there for a few slow seconds before she removed them. He barely had time to register the heat creeping up his neck at her action before she moved her mouth by his ear.
"Goodbye Cullen, it's been an honor," she whispered to him before spinning around and making her way back out of the Chantry, not looking back.
He had to fight with himself inwardly not to run after her, to pick her up and carry her somewhere safe, somewhere he could protect her. He blinked hard, banishing the overwhelming grief of her fate as he tried to savor the lingering sensation of her warm lips on his skin. If he failed to get these people out of Haven, she would have sacrificed herself in vain and he would not have that. Not now.
Goodbye, Ellie.
It was a miracle that they had gotten out of Haven safely before it collapsed under the avalanche. It was even more astounding that they had been able to help so many of the residents to safety as well. Not all of them made it, but it was better than nothing.
Ellie…
His mind constantly drifted back to her, what she gave up just so that they could have a chance. Even though they were alive, everyone at their makeshift camp was miserable. Cullen stepped away from the bickering that kept ensuing between himself, Josephine, Leliana and Cassandra. Everyone was angry, everyone had different opinions on what to do next and where to go from here. From his life spent as a soldier, he was all too aware how caustic infighting could be. If this Elder One didn't kill them first, the infighting would most certainly be their demise. Up until now, they had someone to mediate and balance the advisors out. But now, she wasn't here anymore.
Though he knew it was foolish, there was a small part of him that held out hope that she had somehow made it out, that she was still alive and making her way to them. To him. Arms crossed over his armor-clad chest, he stood at the very edge of their camp, facing the narrow pass they had come through to get to this spot. He watched as two scouts arrived back to the left side of the camp, frozen to their core by the looks of it. Both Cullen and Cassandra had insisted that they organize a search party for the Herald. They knew it was a long shot, but they had to try. They owed her that much at the very least.
His frown grew when the scouts returned empty-handed. The stress building in him, he pinched the bridge of his nose until he heard the crunching sound of someone beside him in the snow. He glanced to the source and met the deep brown eyes of the Seeker.
"I should be the one out there looking still," he muttered just loud enough for her to hear. He had already been out twice himself, but the freezing temperatures meant that no one, not even someone as determined as he, could stay out there for too long before needing to thaw out by the fire.
Cassandra nudged her head in the direction of the pass, "Let's go then."
He nodded, following her away from the camp. The two made there way in silence, both sweeping their eyes over every nook and cranny of the vast white terrain. Cullen was a few steps ahead of the Seeker as he entered the pass when he could swore he heard something. Footsteps. Footsteps that were in front of him, not behind him. Hand on the hilt of his sword he rounded the corner to see a small figure just collapse in the snow. A figure with a glowing hand.
Cullen bolted towards her, "There! It's her!"
His shout was followed by the thankful words of Cassandra who was now just behind him. He knelt down beside her and quickly glanced over her body, checking for any obvious wounds or heavy bleeding. When he found none, he gingerly took off his fur-lined pauldron, placing it over her like a blanket, and picked up her unconscious form in his arms. He leaned his cheek on her forehead. It was ice cold and he quickened his pace to get her back to camp and to a heat source as fast as he could muster in the deep snow.
Whispers and murmurs spread as the camp saw who the limp form was in the Commander's arms. Her companions stood as well and Cullen specifically asked for Solas as he ducked into an empty, fully-walled tent.
Not wanting to let her go, Cullen held her as he slid onto the only cot in there. Now that he was in a sitting position, he unhooked the arm that was under her knees and used it to arrange the wooden storage boxes behind the head of the cot, leaning back onto it so he was better able to adjust her in his lap.
Solas apparently immediately understood his purpose in the tent as soon as he entered. Right away he began spinning his magic to heal her as best as he could. Dorian also poked his head in the tent, having obviously caught wind of Ellie's survival.
"Maker, she's actually alive," he breathed in wonder. Cullen was about to ask the flirty Tevinter to leave when he had begun conjuring a small fire in the middle of the floor space in the tent. He seemed to pay special care to make sure it wasn't large enough to catch the tent on fire, but enough to warm the air and hopefully bring life back to the frozen Herald.
"Commander," the elf addressed him evenly, "If I am to properly identify or treat any visible wounds, you need to put her down."
Cullen's eyes held a fierce determination, "I am not letting go of her," he growled, his tone so sharp he wasn't questioned further, though he could tell Solas wanted to.
Solas stood straight, then finally clasped his hands behind his back, "I believe she will be fine, her pulse is growing stronger. She doesn't seem to have any lasting damage internally. And judging by what I can actually see, externally she has nothing more than some bumps and bruises." He stopped to eye the Commander, "If you notice any injuries, please let me know at once. Keep her warm, let her rest and when she awakes, give her this," he placed a vial of red liquid on the bed that Cullen recognized instantly. He simply nodded and mumbled a thanks to the elf for his help.
Cullen focused his eyes on the fair skin of the woman in his arms. He gently moved her, adjusting her so that her feet were just barely dangling off the edge of the cot, close to the fire, and she was sitting on his lap, nestled between his solid arms and chest with her head resting in the crook of his neck. He pulled the furry cloth around her tightly, ensuring she would warm up soon.
He was so wrapped up in making sure she would be comfortable, he forgot there was still another person in the room. Until heard a throat clear, that is. His eyes snapped to Dorian.
"May I offer a suggestion?" Cullen glared at the mage but made no signs of protest. "If you're planning to canoodle her all night, I would advise at least giving her some body heat." The Commander's eyes widened at the implication and Dorian sighed, "Not that kind of body heat! Your bloody armor, for Maker's sake. If you want her to thaw out, you're not going to do it with her pressed to your cold, metal chest."
Cullen's eyes lit with realization, giving Dorian his cue to leave, which he graciously did closing the tent flap shut behind him. Now that the Commander was left alone with the motionless Herald in his lap, he tried to figure out how to take off his armor without jostling her around too much. Using the hand that wasn't supporting the bulk of her weight, he fumbled to undo the clasps of his arm and shoulder armor, gently wriggling himself free. Next he worked on his chest plate, which was a little trickier as the ties were under his armpits. As he released the bindings, he kept glancing at Ellie, checking if she was still okay, that she was still breathing. Finally, he felt the final clasp unbuckle and he slowly pulled the chest piece off of his, making sure not to mage her head more than necessary.
Now that he was down to just wearing the soft leather of his jacket, he pulled off is gloves, letting them fall to the pile of his armor on the ground. He held her close to his body, arm enveloping her frame to restore her heat.
As he heard her shallow breaths, he began cursing himself for letting this happen to her in first place. He could only hope she could forgive him.
Cullen sat with her cradled in his lap for over an hour. He was steadfast, being attentive to her well-being. As Solas said, her pulse did grow stronger as time went on. He was elated with that at least. Occasionally he would rub his hands over her limbs, warming them up so her body could focus on the core of her and her vital organs.
After two hours had passed, he was starting to get worried she wouldn't recover after all. He desperately wanted to remain hopeful and his grip on her never waned because of it. Brushing a thin strand of her hair out of her face, he felt her stir as she began to regain consciousness. A grin spread on his face.
Maker, thank you!