For the first time in hours, Cullen could hear a noise besides the sound of rustling papers and his quill scrawling on parchment. Skyhold was finally starting to wake up. Even though there were watch guards during the night, it was always so quiet in the mountains while the majority of the residents slept. He could hear the sound of recruits beginning to train in the yard, the hustle and bustle of the establishment starting to gain momentum for the day. As of yet, no one had been by to office this morning, a break that was welcomed by the Commander as he worked steadily.
He had been up for hours already. For once, he did attempt trying to get some sleep that night but woke up in a panicked, cold sweat. Almost immediately after waking, the vomiting started. It was a symptom of his withdrawal that hadn't surfaced since he first quit all those months ago. But for whatever reason that night, his body insisted that he expel any and all of his stomach contents. Even after there was nothing left, he retched a few more times until finally the nausea subsided.
There was no way he could sleep after that. His body ached and his legs were shaky but he knew that if he rested now, it would just get worse. Instead, he climbed down to his desk and worked the rest of the night away. Though he was exhausted, he was actually somewhat happy with the amount of work he was able to accomplish during the wee hours of the morning. He had gone through all of his reports, signed all of the documents that required his attention, reviewed a number of schematics for various military equipment and infrastructure, he had even completed two months worth of guard rotation schedules. He may be sacrificing his health, but the Inquisition was sure benefiting from his sleepless nights.
Now the queasy feeling in his stomach was gone, though he didn't have an appetite for breakfast. But the Commander was still weak and his joints were quivering, muscles twitching. He let out a shaky exhale as he leaned back in his chair, giving himself a momentary reprieve from his work. His eyes were clenched shut and he pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes, his gaze fell on the report currently on the top of his mountain of mostly completed paperwork.
Cullen could now always recognize the handwriting that covered the piece of smooth vellum. Dainty letters that always curved in deliberate, flowing strokes of her pen. He knew that her neat cursive was a result of her noble upbringing and education. But he couldn't help but feel that Ellie's graceful and pleasant writing matched who she was as a person.
He almost laughed at that thought in self-depreciation. Was she really so etched in his brain that he associated her penmanship with her personality? Was he already that hopeless for her?
Cullen couldn't deny that whenever his brain wasn't focused on his work or wasn't reeling from the haunting memories of his past, his mind constantly drifted to her. It was almost never brought on by anything in particular. All of sudden he would end up thinking about how airy and melodious her laugh sounded. Or how he would so often catch her chewing her bottom lip whenever she was nervous or stressed, making her lip even more pink and full than before. Or he would think about how silky her golden, wavy hair must feel, and how soft he knew her porcelain skin did feel. Or how she would always be wearing clothes that hugged her figure just right, making the curve of her hips that much more appealing when she would sway past him. He didn't want to admit how often he thought of those hips and wondered what it would be like to have his hands on them bare, gripping them tight enough to leave marks as he…
Maker's breath, he groaned as he felt his body reacting to the thought of Ellie's naked hips, It's too early for this.
Cullen rubbed his hands repeatedly over his face, trying to banish those fantasies from his mind. He knew that she had so much more to offer than a pretty face and a beautifully feminine body. But lately, it seemed his mind became fixated on imagining her in a far more intimate and sensual way than he wanted to admit. Perhaps his lust was just another effect of his lyrium withdrawal. Regardless, it was becoming deliciously distracting.
The thoughts strangled him and he knew he needed a breath of fresh air before that one little idea became a much more difficult thing to conceal within the confines of his breeches.
He exited his office slowly, seeing it was the first time he had stood in hours and his muscles were aching in protest of the movement. The Commander stretched as he walked along the battlements. He wasn't planning on going anywhere in particular, he just had to get his mind off of Ellie for a moment.
As he made his way along the stone walkway casually, he caught a glimpse of a male figure near the other end of the section he was walking towards. He hadn't seen the man since Kirkwall, and seeing as he might be helping their cause, it couldn't hurt to greet him. Granted, they had probably both changed significantly since the events in Kirkwall, Cullen knew he sure had, but it was this man's actions that helped the Commander see how crazed Knight Commander Meredith had become. That realization helped set him on the path that brought him here, to the Inquisition.
Cullen approached the raven-haired man as he leaned on the balcony railing that overlooked Skyhold's garden. Garrett nodded a greeting towards Cullen but offered no words. The two men simply stood side by side, looking out over the green space below in a mutual silence. It appeared Hawke was alone, and for that the blonde was thankful. He wasn't sure how he would react if his elven companion were present.
Truth be told, Cullen was still trying to absorb what Ellie had confided in him yesterday regarding her past lover. His knee-jerk reaction was to find Fenris and beat the living shit out of him, not only for having somehow won over Ellie at one point, but also for being selfish enough to abandon one of the most wonderful women Cullen had ever met.
The Commander knew the sentiment was foolish. He had no claim on Ellie. Only a baseless hope that one day she might return his feelings. There were brief, fleeting moments when he felt that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same towards him now.
He would often muse over their interactions with one another. She seemed to genuinely be herself with him and she looked to him for a place to put her trust. Cullen would do everything he could to make sure he maintained that level of confidence with her. And to be honest, he exercised a fair amount of personal trust in her as well. Not many people in the Inquisition knew much about their Commander beyond his title. But anytime he opened up to Ellie, whether it was the weighty matter of his addiction or details about his family, he never felt regret. In fact, he greatly appreciated the mutual trust.
But then he thought back to some of the more light-hearted moments between them. How they truly seemed to enjoy each other's company in a casual setting and the fact that Ellie had openly stated that she wanted to spend more time like that with him. Not that they had the time to do that much, but the prospect was so inviting. He reminisced about chess match they had yesterday, granted it had its moments of awkward silence, but it was one of the most pleasant moments Cullen had had since joining the Inquisition.
After that one night in the tent when they had found her nearly frozen to death in the mountains he had tried so hard to distance himself. And now, he almost regretted the time he lost. He had been so absorbed in his embarrassment and his disciplined loyalty to the cause that he didn't even fathom that perhaps she wanted that kiss to happen as well.
The wind rustled through his hair and the faintest smile crept across his lips as he remembered, not the self-condemning version that he had played over and over in his mind, but the more accurate version. How her fingers gently ran over his scarred lip. How he could feel the heat radiating from her body even though she should have still been cold. How the silver colour of her eyes were almost lost to her dilated pupils when she looked up at him. How she didn't pull back when his face neared hers, in fact hers was moving towards him as well. How her warm breath delicately dusted his face as they drew closer.
But surely she couldn't actually want him, right? He was damaged, broken, shattered into tiny pieces. Who would be interested in that?
Though even after he told her about his struggle with lyrium withdrawal, she drew closer to him, offered to help in whatever way she could. Not once did she give him the impression that she thought less of him because of it.
What had happened in the tavern only seemed to confirm that. He wasn't sure what it was about that evening, but he couldn't bring himself to control his flirting with her. He knew he should, considering she clearly was under the influence of alcohol. Cullen didn't believe she was completely drunk by any means, but she was definitely loosened up. He remembered how ravishing she looked that night. Blonde hair framing her heart-shaped face perfectly and her skin became flushed when she saw him as he held onto her so she didn't fall over.
Yes, that's absolutely why I put my arm around her, he reminded himself, though deep down he knew there was more to it than that.
But then she became more confident and met his coy attitude with a seduction that even someone as oblivious as him couldn't doubt. Her eyes looked at him with a longing that made him wish they were alone, her attention was almost solely on him the entire evening and when she rested her leg against his, he nearly suggested that they go somewhere more private.
Twice now Dorian had interrupted them. He wasn't sure what kind of relationship Ellie and Dorian shared, but he was getting quite fed up with his interference. Cullen wasn't sure if he should be jealous of the mage, again he knew he had no stake on Ellie, but they seemed so comfortable around each other. Sure, he felt Ellie and himself were getting to that level, but they weren't there yet.
As if somehow they had read his mind, he spotted both Ellie and Dorian walking side by side in the garden below laughing with each other. He felt himself entranced by her as he watched.
"It sure is something, isn't it?" The man beside Cullen asked, pulling at his attention though his gaze was still directed to the woman below. Hawke continued, "A darkspawn magister who should be dead, and she alone is the one who has the power to stop him."
"The Inquisition would be nothing without her," Cullen paused to regard the man beside him who had an unreadable expression on his face, "Much like Kirkwall would've been reduced to nothing if it weren't for you."
Hawke let out a sharp laugh, "It practically was anyways. Had I not been so blind, had I not paid more attention…"
"It could have been far worse," Cullen interrupted. He knew how caustic it could be to constantly dwell on how things could've been, what could've been done better. Not that being aware of that stopped him from doing it. "I never got to properly thank you for what you did in Kirkwall. Had it not been for your actions, I'm not sure I would've been able to recognize how broken the Order was."
Hawke nodded solemnly, "No one wanted to believe how bad it was. But you're right. It could've been worse." The two warriors paused a moment, reflecting on what may have happened and how the aftermath of the mage uprising affected them all. "I do not envy her. It was hard enough having the weight of Kirkwall's fate resting on me. I can't imagine having all of Thedas depending on her."
"We do everything we can to alleviate her burden. She manages to handle it well considering. Her people respect her and many care for her."
"You're one of those people, I take it?"
The insinuating tone of took Cullen off guard, "I'm not sure what you're implying."
Before Garrett could expand on what he meant, there were footsteps behind them.
"I think you know what he meant, but it would seem that someone had beaten you to the punch, Commander," the distinctive voice of Fenris stated as he approached, his acidic gaze fixed on Ellie and Dorian in the garden as the mage slung his arm around her tightly. Cullen caught the bitterness in the elf's voice and it stirred an intensified irritation in him that he hadn't felt before. Cullen may not have the right to feel jealous over Ellie, but Fenris sure as hell didn't either. He had forfeit that right when he left her.
Admittedly, Cullen didn't know much about Fenris but he did know a few key details about his past. Primarily, his distaste of mages but in particular his hatred towards Tevinter magisters. Dorian wasn't a magister, but he was the son of one and a mage as well. He knew that getting into an argument with Fenris wasn't wise, but the throbbing pain in his head kept growing which only added fuel to his fire. He was instantly livid, not only because of what Ellie had told him, but because the elf had the gall to direct some of his perpetual anger towards him. Despite knowing better, that was all the incentive Cullen needed to give Fenris a little taste of his own medicine.
"That may be, but I'd still rather see her in the company of a Tevinter mage than you," Cullen didn't bother to hide the bite in his words. He'd probably regret saying that but in that moment, he didn't care. And he wasn't lying, either. At least Dorian made her happy.
His words clearly hit the nerve that the Commander intended because the lyrium markings etched into his skin started glowing, his fists clenched tightly, "She's with a what?" He snarled.
"Does it matter? You certainly don't deserve to be with her," Cullen fought back, his voice raised. Hawke stepped back from the two men as their argument only became more inflamed. They were both so focused, they didn't realize that their volume and tone had caught the attention of some of the people down below, nor did they notice as both Ellie and Dorian started making their way up the closest staircase to them.
Fenris took a threatening step towards Cullen, teeth bared, "And let me guess, you deserve to be with her? She can do better."
"And I suppose a former slave is what you consider better? Please," Cullen barked a short, condescending laugh.
"Anyone would be better than a fucking Tevinter, but a former Templar is hardly worthy of her time."
Now Cullen was the one to step forward, as he allowed his temper to flare, his hands balled into fists so tight he wasn't sure how his leather gloves didn't tear. His tone became quieter but was iced with a deep rage, "I may have left the Order, but unlike you I would never leave her."
The accusation left the elf stunned for a brief second as he realized that Ellie must've told him about their past. But his epiphany was quickly suppressed and he made to lunge at the Commander and Cullen relished the idea of being able to beat the man to a pulp.
Before he could, a small female body darted between them placing a hand on each of their chests to keep them apart.
When his eyes fell on Ellie, almost all of his pent up fury diminished when he saw the look on her face. Cullen instantly felt regret, not so much for his manifested rage towards Fenris, but because she had to witness it and put a stop to it before it got out of hand. Her face had a mixture of emotions written across them, anger and determination being the prominent ones. But when her stormy gaze met his and he could sense the overwhelming hurt in her eyes, he wanted to recoil. He wanted to hide and be left to hate himself for causing that within her.
I'm sorry, Ellie, he whispered in his head as he awaited the result of his lost temper.
Poor Cully Wully!
Thanks for reading! :)