Taking the steps two at a time, Dejah hurriedly made her way to Cullen's quarters. She was a day late returning from the Storm Coast. Although she hadn't been dry in over a week, she took the time to bathe and find some fresh clothing. Even in a hurry she'd chosen carefully. Something flattering but still professionally appropriate. There were appearances to keep up but had promised her a dinner when she returned and it was time for him to make good on that.
She rapped on the door and quickly smoothed her clothing from her hurried journey up. With the romance so new and exciting she still felt the need to look nice for him even after fighting demons and bandits for three weeks.
"I told you to go away!" Cullen bellowed from beyond the door.
"I'm fairly certain you can't just order the Inquisitor away like that." She said, trying to sound playful. Perhaps he'd had a long day and suddenly she felt guilty for even being there. She should have checked first, make sure he even had time for her.
"Dejah, maker." She heard a mutter from the room. "Not tonight. Please. I'm sorry."
"Are you...alright?" She asked worriedly, her hand on the latch of the door.
"I'm fine, I just need to be alone." There was a hint of desperation and no small amount of pain, try as he might to hide it.
Against her better judgement, but following his wishes, she turned to leave, surprised at how disappointed she was. She didn't realize how much she looked forward to their time together, short as it was. She turned back sharply when she heard a clatter and a grunt of pain. She tried the latch on the door and found it locked.
Alarmed, she rattled the wooden door sharply, hoping to disengage the lock, without luck. "Cullen!" She demanded sharply, pounding on the door. "Are you okay? Please let me in."
"Please, leave." He begged weakly.
Her magic came to bear without conscious thought, the lock snapping as the metal shattered, falling to the floor in frozen chunks.
Cullen was kneeling on the floor, half bent over an end table, the previous contents of it scattered in front of him. There was no fire in the hearth but the open window let in enough of the moonlight to see by. She secured the door again, making sure the latch at least kept the door closed even if the lock no longer functioned. She quickly went to him, meaning to help him up.
He wore nothing and his hair was damp. The large metal tub in the corner was empty however. When she touched his shoulder, he batted at her, albeit weakly. He was covered in sweat and his skin was flushed with fever.
"Didn't you hear me? Go away." The words didn't have any force behind them, just the pain.
"What is wrong with you?" She asked quickly. "You're on fire!"
"I've been having a hard couple of days. I didn't want you to see it." He turned his head and looked up at her. "Please, Dejah. Just leave. I never wanted you to see this." Weakly, he pushed himself up and staggered toward the bed.
Reaching for his arm, she quickly moved to steady him. A growl was the only warning before the side of her face exploded with pain. A weak punch for sure, but even at his weakest Cullen was a force to be reckoned with. She stumbled back, holding her jaw.
"There, no you have no reason to want to see me. I have no use for a mage anyway!" He did actually sound angry. "You can't even listen! I don't want you here! I can't stand the sight of you." The last part came out weaker, no force behind the words. He was a terrible liar.
"Maker's breath!" She cursed, rubbing her aching jaw as if that would help. She muttered under her breath. "Stubborn son of a-"
Having expended all the energy that remained to him, he fell back onto the bed, his legs hanging over. He flung an arm over his eyes.
"Just let me help you!" She argued. "I'm part of the reason you're even going through this! I encouraged you to stop taking the lyrium. You could let me shoulder some of the burden as well."
He just shook his head, not even able to open his eyes. "Go." He whispered.
"Like hell." Determined, she moved to him again although she was much more cautious. She lifted his feet onto the bed and helped him turn, propping some pillows underneath him. His skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She flexed her fingers and in the pale light she could see wisps of vapor being to rise from her palms and the tips of her fingers. She was careful with the magic, not too much.
She rested one hand on his forehead as she settled onto the bed beside him, sitting facing the headboard. He drew a ragged breath and let out a small sigh. Her hands moved to frame his burning face, the stubble on his jaw scratching at her skin. She moved to his chest then, her fingers splayed wide.
Another small sound escaped him. Something akin to a whimper, mixed with a sigh of pleasure. He laid completely still as she worked her magic, both literal and figurative. She moved back up to his shoulders then down the outside of his arms. The sides of his abdomen flinched slightly when she moved her hands to his sides and she withdrew some of the chill of her hands until he relaxed again. Down the side of his hips, to the top of his thighs.
"Do you still want me to leave?" She asked softly.
"Please don't." Was the quick, whispered reply.
She continued downward, her hands cupping around to the back of his calves. When she reached his feet, she shifted and brought one foot onto her lap. Her hand covered the bottom of his foot, though not completely. She knew this would be a relief spot, where she could quickly help his temperature lower. She left it there for a few moments and then moved to the other.
After another few moments, she shifted off the bed and stood, holding her hands palm down over him. A mist of chill settled over his body which left wisps of vapor rising from his skin. He seemed relaxed. Enough so that she wasn't even sure that he was still awake.
"My chest." He whispered, surprising her a little. "Please. My heart feels like it's going to explode."
Climbing back onto the bed, she knelt beside his hips and leaned over him. Her hands on his chest slowly grew colder until he sighed with relief. She rubbed gently, working up his shoulders and down his stomach slightly as well. "Better. Thank you."
He opened his eyes to look up at her as she continued to run her hands along his chest. An action that would have sent him into a rather embarrassing state any other night. It took a moment to focus and when he did he immediately regretted it. Tears were slowly falling down her cheeks, though she was focused on her work and didn't even notice him studying her.
"I hit you. Maker save me, I hit you." He reached up slowly to cup her cheek, the one that was red and already showing signs of bruising. "Are you in pain?" Stupid question.
"No." She said quickly, turning her face slightly into his hand. She still seemed to be quite focused on her work, refusing to look at him. His hand moved to one of hers, stopping the movement over his skin. It slowly warmed again, the magic leaving her fingertips and she finally looked at him.
"Are you crying for me?" He was half afraid to ask. Part of him hoped it had just been the hit.
"You are in such pain." She wiped harshly at her cheek with her free hand to brush away the track of her tears. "And you thought I would think less of you for it." She shook her head. "Cullen, when you asked what I thought….I didn't realize. I saw you were uncomfortable but it didn't seem too bad. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I've grown quite fond of you." He admitted. His thumb brushed slowly back and forth over her cheek. "I wanted to spare you this. My pride didn't want to show you my weakness. When I think of you, I see a light at the end of the tunnel. You're aren't just an Inquisitor to me. You're my light. My goal. My hope. I want to be a better man for you."
He sat up, even though she tried to keep him down, scooting back to lean against the headboard. "I didn't want to be a burden." He closed his eyes for a moment and groaned, his body tensing. He opened them again quickly and found her worried gaze. "I was wrong and I'm sorry. Maybe you are what I need to break this habit. Maybe you're stronger than I am and I can borrow that. But I wasn't lying. I can't stand the sight of you. Not like that; crying for me. I know I'm not strong enough for that."
She leaned forward slowly and kissed him gently. Her lips lingered on his for a moment, soft and warm and oh so inviting. He broke the kiss with another groan of pain, his head twisting to the side. Immediately, he felt cool hands on his chest again, relaxing the burning, tense muscles. He couldn't open his eyes again though he wasn't sure if it was from the pain or the sight of her tears.
"Forgive me." He begged. Her touch had returned to his thighs and the roaming hands stopped at his words.
"Of course." She whispered and resumed her course.
When he woke the next morning, she was sitting in a chair beside the bed, leaning over with her arm as a pillow. He could see her cheek splotched with black and angry yellow. His heart ached. His body was sore and he still felt feverish but it was minimal compared to the night before. Compared to the guilt he felt. Cullen pulled a pillow over himself, something he hadn't had the mental capacity to do last night. He smoothed his hand over her soft hair gently and whispered her name.
She woke with a start and blinked quickly to adjust to the light of the room. It was much cooler now after the night had chilled the chambers. "Are you okay?" She asked quickly, reaching for his hand without thinking.
"I'll be fine. Are you okay?" He asked having seen her wince when she spoke. "I can't believe I did that to you. How could you forgive that?"
She shook her head and got up, shifting to sit on the bed beside him instead. "I'll be fine as well. All of this will pass."
"I don't deserve forgiveness." He still stared at the sore spot. "And what I said." He closed his eyes and rested back on the pillows again, shaking his head. "Such an animal. With or without lyrium apparently."
"To be fair, you did try asking nicely first. But you know some of us mages don't listen to Templars very well."
"It's not funny." He said with a stern edge. "In a moment of weakness, cowardice, I showed my true colors. Less than a decade ago and I would have meant it. I would have been disgusted to have a mage in my personal quarters let alone helping me. Touching me."
"You aren't the same man you were ten years ago, Cullen. I am not the same woman I was ten years ago. I am here now because of the man you are now. Even so, that man gave me this one so I will accept him as well."
"You shouldn't say that. You would hate him. I do." He said bitterly, teeth grinding with anger.
"Then leave him behind with the lyrium." She suggested. That simple sentiment surprised him. It seemed to make his struggle a little easier. All of this pain to drive out that person he used to be. "And what you did wasn't cowardice. You hit the Herald of Andraste. To protect her, that's pretty bold."
He gave a short, incredulous laugh. "I hit you and you call it bravery?"
"I close demonic rifts in the sky, literally one handed. You don't think I could take you?" She laughed herself, briefly, then grew more somber. "I would do anything for you." She surprised herself by speaking that revelation out loud.
He opened his eyes and with a swiftness that surprised her, pulled her down to him. He sheltered her under his arm, against his strong chest. She didn't fight him, instead melting against him as if she were a part of him that had been missing all this time. "He is the darkness. You are the light. My light. Where you are, he cannot be." He whispered against her hair. The scent of her was intoxicating. Some blossom scent lingered on her that he found quite pleasant though he had no use for flowers before her. "I won't allow it."
"If you can forgive me, I will never hurt you again. I promise. I do not have enough words to apologize to you, my light."
He sounded so pained, she thought she might cry again. She could feel the tightness in the back of her throat and her eyes burned. She realized he was holding his breath waiting for her answer.
"I will always forgive you." She said softly. His breath came out in a ragged exhale and he squeezed her tight against him for a moment. "I'm rather fond of you as well."
"I dont deserve you and I can't always promise that I'll make it easy on you." He warned. "But I can promise that I won't turn you away again. I'll make up for what I said. What I did."
"Next time you punch me, I'm blowing you up." She muttered under her breath, bringing a chuckle from him.
"Now we both have promises to keep." He kissed the top of her head.
"And yet the world conspires to keep us apart and leave them unfulfilled." She lamented. "Even now we should probably be meeting with the rest of the council."
"They can wait." He assured her softly. "I just want to bathe in your light a little longer."