Hello! A big thanks to everyone who keeps reading this! I was so nervous to post this story originally but those fears have since been banished thanks to all of you. I will give you fair warning, this is probably my last update for the next two weeks or so since I'm getting married this weekend (yay!) and then I'm off on my honeymoon. So you patience until I can update again will be most appreciated.

Onward

The flickering candles that illuminated the room were the only sources of light in Cullen's office for hours. The Commander was hunched over his desk, surrounded by stacks of paperwork all around him. His mind was desperately trying to keep him focused on something productive. He scrawled his neat yet masculine signature on another report before he leaned back in his chair a little and rolled his shoulders a few times, easing some of the tension that had built up from being in that sitting position for so long. When he raised his head along with the movement, he noticed through the window that the inky night sky was getting tinted with a light blue on the horizon.

He let out a strangled exhale as he came to the realization that he had worked through the night. Again. Sleep had become Cullen's enemy. Granted, in the last decade, sleep hadn't been his friend either. But now it was getting far worse.

Tonight he had actually attempted to sleep, but woke up within a few hours in a cold sweat. His nightmares haunted his subconscious in ways he didn't think was possible. But this latest development made his stomach churn. He had almost gotten used to the fragments of memories of what happened at the Circle Tower, distorting and twisting themselves in his dreams. It was never pleasant but he was beginning to know what to expect at least. The abominations that tortured him in the Tower would plague his mind each night, taunting him with the memories of his friends in the Order who were slaughtered right in front of him and the demons would taunt him with illusions of her. Sienna Amell.

The young circle mage had bewitched him in every way possible all those years ago. Any interaction with her ended up turning him into a blushing, stuttering fool. The embarrassment of it almost made him want to avoid her completely, but he could never bring himself stay far away. He always felt compelled to make sure she was safe and looked after. Cullen knew that the chances of anything happening between them were practically impossible since she was one of his charges and he tried countless times to convince himself to let it go. But then she would smile at him, or say something nice and he would be tripping over himself every single time. Sure, he was barely twenty at the time and had spent the last seven years in the Chantry. But he had bedded a couple women already by that time, though those encounters were strictly sex and not mixed with any kind of attachment, so he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was about her that turned him into a mess.

So when the Tower had become overrun with blood magic and the abominations that came with it that fateful night, those demons knew exactly who to use against him. And it worked. It worked very well.

Now he wishes that he could forget about her, that her memory could be left in peace. But his mind ripped open that wound nearly every night in the last ten years without fail and with the lyrium withdrawal, every nightmare seemed infinitely more vivid.

But in the last few nights, that had changed. Instead of seeing the deep auburn hair and sea green eyes that belonged to the mage, it was replaced with ashy blonde hair and silver eyes. The demons in his mind had twisted his worst nightmares and altered them to replace Sienna with Ellie. The very thought of her being subjected to any one of the horrible things that happened that night made Cullen's skin crawl.

Thus, he had been doing his best to avoid sleep at all costs. He would try getting a little, here and there. Just enough to make him feel a tiny more rested, but not enough that he would start dreaming. He knew he would burn himself out eventually. But right now he couldn't stomach anything else.

Luckily, there was enough paperwork to keep him steadily busy through his sleep deprived nights. When he ran out of reports to sift through, letters to action, maps to study and schematics to approve, he would meticulously organize the guard routes and go through requisition and inventory lists. For once, he was happy to have an endless amount of desk work.

His restless mind drifted to the beautiful woman whose appearances in his dreams made him ill at ease. He wondered what it meant that his subconscious decided to use her as bait instead of Sienna.

Because she's the only woman you've cared for since then, his brain chided and he rolled his eyes.

He didn't entirely want to admit that yet. That he cared for yet another woman who he couldn't have. But even Cullen couldn't ignore the fact that Ellie seemed to hold him on a separate level than the rest of her colleagues. She even flat out told him that she trusted him. The thought of that made the Commander's heart swell. He knew that she was a private person and that she didn't often confide in people. To be one of the very few she would reach out to made something stir in Cullen that he wasn't sure he had felt before.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he remembered exactly what it was that she had confessed to him. When she had told him about her previous romantic involvement with Fenris, he instantly felt he had taken a physical blow. He couldn't stomach the thought of her being with anyone else, though he was fully aware how stupid and unwarranted his jealousy was. He had just barely admitted to himself that he thought of Ellie as someone more to him than a leader and a friend and yet some twisted part of his mind thought she belonged only with him, the man who's so broken he tried pushing her away. Not only that, but he didn't really know how she felt towards him. There were hints, yes, but nothing solid to confirm what she might be thinking. The hard truth of it was that as much as he wanted it, she was not his.

I'm her military commander, that's all… he reminded himself, reflecting on the last thing she had said to him before she left for the Exalted Plains a couple weeks ago.

The implication of those words stung him more than he cared to admit. He knew that getting into a spat with Fenris was ill-advised but he couldn't listen to him disrespect her like that and not step in. He could have handled it better, he knew that, but he did it because he cared. But the hurt she had in her eyes when Ellie had come between himself and the elf pierced Cullen to the core. And when she voiced exactly what she wanted from him, a commander and that's all, he cursed himself for getting so carried away. Not only with Fenris but also in his feelings for Ellie. He had come so far since Kinloch Hold and Kirkwall. He didn't want to risk jeopardizing his role and title because of his personal feelings for her.

Still, a part of him desperately longed for her to come back to Skyhold so he knew she was safe. Until then, he would bide his time by burying himself in his work.

He was extremely grateful that the day she left, Hawke and Fenris had departed as well. And that they were going in opposite directions. Through Cassandra though he found out that Ellie and her party would eventually meet Hawke and Fenris in Crestwood to follow up on a lead regarding Corypheus' alleged demon army. But at least now he didn't have to worry about having another run-in with the elf.

He had no idea what had become of Ellie and Fenris' private discussion to hash out their past, but Cullen very distinctly remembered hearing that Ellie didn't leave her quarters the rest of the day, though apparently Fenris had left which gave the Commander significant relief. He also recalled watching from a section of the battlements directly adjacent to his office as Ellie and her crew left the next morning. Even though he was observing from afar, he could easily notice the change in her normally cheerful demeanour. She had barely said a word to anyone that he saw, she simply loaded up her things and waited to depart with Dorian, Iron Bull and Varric.

According to the reports he had received from Scout Harding, they should be back any day. Cullen was anxious, though he knew it was foolish, for the door to swing open and Ellie to be there to greet him happily. That wouldn't happen though and Cullen had no idea why his mind would allow himself to be set up for that kind of disappointment.

Suddenly though, his door did swing open and Cullen's head snapped up and his veins were flooded with a feeling of hope that his wish might actually be coming true. But instead of the open door revealing the beauty that was Ellie Trevelyan, the Commander was instead met with the sight of his second, Lieutenant Rylen. A noticeable frown graced his features as the Lieutenant strode towards him.

"What?" Cullen growled, though the unfriendly tone did not seem to faze Rylen.

The man in second command had become accustomed to his superior's frequent mood swings and irritability, especially in the last few weeks. Rylen was one of the few who knew about Cullen's lyrium withdrawal, though he had only been told not too long ago. The Commander had a feeling that Rylen had known before Cullen had actually said it outright but the Lieutenant was respectful and taciturn enough not to verbalize his suspicions beforehand. It was one of the things Cullen admired about him so much.

"Report for you, Commander. The one from Lady Montilyet you've been waiting for," the Lieutenant informed as he handed over a piece of rolled vellum.

Cullen snatched it hastily from the other man's hand, irritated at both his interrupting presence and the fact that he had been waiting for this report since yesterday and it was just getting to him now. "What took so long?" he snapped.

Again, the Lieutenant shrugged off the hostility knowing that deep down it wasn't meant to be aimed at him. "She did not say, but she did offer an apology for the delay."

The Commander grumbled a reply as he dismissed Rylen. As soon as the Starkhaven-born man left his office, Cullen almost instantly felt guilty for being so harsh on him. It wasn't his fault that the report was late, nor was it his fault that he was impatiently waiting for Ellie return and it certainly wasn't his fault that his withdrawal symptoms were taking a turn for the worst.

Cullen could feel his skin crawling, itching to have a dose of lyrium. He hated the feeling, he hated everything that came with letting go of this ridiculous addiction. His body hurt, his mind was becoming clouded and he feared that it was only a matter of time before the Inquisition started suffering because of his state.

I should take it…

He glanced towards his lyrium kit that was sitting on the bookshelf to his right. It was practically singing to him even though there was no actual lyrium in it at the moment. Rising from his desk, he retrieved the wooden box, the one he had had since he was fully admitted into the Order. Cautiously he opened the box, staring longingly at the philter that he so desperately wanted to use right now.

His brain screamed at him to refrain from resorting back to using the substance that had controlled him for so many years. He remembered a time when he could barely get out of bed before preparing and taking his draught. But as soon as his mind drifted back to his former life as a Templar, he was instantly reminded of the corruption that went along with it. He couldn't go back to that life or what it stood for now.

But Cullen truly felt like he couldn't continue like this. He was running on empty and everyone around him knew it and were no doubt suffering because of it. He refused to have committed to this cause just to ruin it because of his weakness.

No. The Inquisition must take priority.

With that resolve firmly established in his mind, he set off to go find Cassandra and ask for a replacement. She wasn't in the training yard like she normally was during the day. Instead he found her in the armory inspecting the new batch of swords that had just been smithed. He was sure that she noticed his presence but she made no indication of it until she spoke to him.

"Considering the influx of recruits we've had since reaching Skyhold, I'm impressed that we've been able to keep up with the amount of weapons and armor we have needed. You keep the army running smoothly, Commander," she stated in her usual matter-of-fact tone.

I fear I will not be able to keep it running smoothly much longer.

"The Inquisition has managed to acquire talented smiths. It is their doing, not mine," he deflected.

He watched as the Seeker ran her hand over one of the sword's leather-bound pommels, "You do not forge the equipment, no. But you have forged the army."

Cullen wasn't sure why Cassandra was all of a sudden in such a complimentary mood but his eyebrows knit together in mild annoyance. He knew he needed to just get this over with. He felt almost hesitant but to his surprise his voice came out firm, "I do not think it would be wise for me to continue to do so. I would ask that you recommend a replacement for me."

At that, the woman turned to look at him sharply, "Absolutely not. There is no need."

Cullen let out an exasperated sigh; he was fearing this reaction, "It's getting out of control. I cannot – I will not – let the Inquisition suffer. We had a deal."

"We did have a deal," Cassandra countered, matching his tone and crossing her arms, "You do not need to be relieved from your position. The Inquisition's army is still flourishing under your command."

The Commander's forehead creased and a visible scowl came across his face, "And what happens when that is no longer the case? Do you want to take that risk?"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take because I strongly believe there is very little risk. I know you are suffering, Cullen but you are holding together better than anyone I've ever seen dealing with lyrium withdrawal. If anyone can get through this, it's you. I knew that when we met in Kirkwall."

Her confidence in him, though he was convinced it was unwarranted, did little to soften his statue, "Then you were wrong."

"I wasn't," Cassandra stated simply, "You give yourself too little credit. And you have people to lean on when the load becomes too much to bear. The Inquisitor, perhaps?"

Cullen glared at the woman.

How could she know?

"I highly doubt that," he muttered disdainfully.

He could see Cassandra roll her eyes, "Trust me. She cares deeply about about your well-being. Especially regarding this. She's already approached me to make sure I thought you were doing alright and to see if there was anything she could do to help."

Amber eyes locked onto Cassandra's darker ones, a begrudging hope taking root in his stomach. If what she said was right, the sentiment made Cullen's heart soar. Ellie probably knew that he would never want to show her how much he was truly suffering, he didn't want to risk her disappointment. But regardless, there was very little she could do to ease his circumstance.

With Cullen's silence, Cassandra spoke up again, "She arrived back less than an hour ago. Talk to her. But I will not find a replacement for you when it is not necessary."

With her final words, the Seeker left Cullen alone to stew in the armory. He had been so wrapped up in his own misery that he hadn't even realized Ellie had finally returned. That knowledge made him both elated and terrified. He was relieved to know that the woman who had managed to be the very centre of his mind and heart was finally back in Skyhold, safe and sound. He was dreading the conversation he was about to have with her knowing that it could be the last one he ever had with her.

If Cassandra would not permit him to be relieved of his position, than perhaps Ellie could override her opinion, perhaps she could save him from putting the Inquisition and herself in danger with his clouded mind. Mustering up what courage and resolve he had left, he set out of the armory to find Ellie.