A/N: Remember, reviews make Cullen's hair curl !
"Kaffar!"
Hands touching her, gentle, but even so they hurt her, hurts hurts hurts oh Maker it hurts and she couldn't bite the scream back, tried to twist away but the movement hurt worse and more sounds forced their way past her lips, animal sounds of pain.
The hands became firmer, implacable, hurt more. "I know, I know, but I have to see, over soon, my lovely, over soon —"
Pain gone.
Killeen sobbed in relief and opened her eyes to see Dorian Pavus looking down at her, face unaccustomedly serious. "Better?" he asked.
"Yes," Killeen croaked, and Dorian grinned.
"So much for Vivianne's insistence that necromancers can't be trusted near the dying. Up you come, Lady Lieutenant, this is no place for a leisurely nap." He seized her arm and hauled her up, firing a bolt of fire at a shade oozing toward them without changing expression. "I think we should be moving, especially if there's something around that can get the better of you."
"Pride demon," Killeen said. She took stock of herself, nothing broken, chest hurts like I've been kicked by a mule but nothing clicks or scrapes when I breathe, god-awful headache and I can't feel the scarred side of my face at all. Nothing serious, then. She realised she had neither sword nor helmet and looked around for them.
"Charming creatures, aren't they?" Dorian said. "Make me want to take up modesty. Well, almost."
Killeen spotted her sword, blackened but unbent, and beside it a shape of burst and blackened metal that —
Is my helmet.
She raised her hand to touch her numb cheek and Dorian quickly grabbed her wrist. "No, don't touch it, I've patched it but you can't go poking it and expect that to hold."
"So much," Killeen said, and was surprised to hear how steady her voice was, "so much for my girlish good looks."
Dorian laughed. "Now, the scarred and dangerous mien suits you much better. By the time the healers are done with you, you'll look quite distinguished. In a piratical way. But right now, I think we had better get down to where the action is, don't you? Can you walk?"
She could, just, she could lift her sword, and so they made their way across the battlements to the stairs to the central courtyard, following the rising din of battle as they picked their way between corpses, some of them Wardens, too many of them not.
Rounding the last corner of the stairs, Killeen saw the ruins of the courtyard seething with the demons pouring from an open rift. In the middle of the fray, Cullen laid about him with his sword, calling encouragement to his troops even as he rained blows down on the monsters in front of him.
For all his efforts, the line was being forced back, folding in on itself. Steel and flesh, as Killeen had been reminded so recently, are no match for an army from the Fade.
Beside her, Dorian raised his staff, and a nimbus of red enveloped the demons nearest the Inquisition's soldiers. The creatures froze, and then began to blunder about in confusion or outright flee. The soldiers took advantage of the opportunity, disposing of the nearest, winning some breathing space.
Cullen slashed a wraith in half and turned, sword raised to acknowledge the assistance.
His gaze met Killeen's. At the look of shock on his face, it was impossible for her not to realise that the omission of her name from the orders to assemble at Adamant had been no oversight, and the utter horror which rapidly succeeded it gave her a clearer picture of just how much damage the pride demon had done to her face than any mirror could.
"More coming through!" hollered a soldier.
Cullen wheeled, and Killeen raised her sword and ran forward. From the stairs, Dorian kept up a constant barrage of magefire, dropping the demons in Killeen's path until she reached the Inquisition soldiers and their shield wall opened to let her through.
Automatically, she found her familiar place by Cullen's side, shoulder to shoulder, twisting to cover the low slash he made that left him open on the right, trusting he'd block the claws descending toward her as she lunged forward to spit a shade.
"I don't know why I'm surprised," Cullen panted when Dorian's spells gave them a brief respite. "We're elbow deep in demons so of course you're here."
"Pot. Kettle," Killeen said, and then the earth heaved beneath them both and a giant tangle of stick-thin limbs scattered the Inquisition soldiers like dolls off an overturned table.
Killeen gained her feet and lunged toward Cullen. He saw her and wheeled away, and Killeen turned on her heel and set her back to his as she had in so many fights before, the two of them becoming one single fighter with two swords and no blind-spots. More demons were pouring out of the rift.
Her worshipfulness better pull a firebolt out of her Andraste blessed arse pretty soon.
"Where is she?" she yelled over her shoulder to Cullen.
"She was on the tower when the dragon brought it down!"
Well, shit. They were pressed too hard for Killeen to have time for more than a brief, sharp ache of pity for Cullen and what he must be feeling, facing death without even the small comfort of doing so by the side of the one he loved. She hacked and slashed and cursed, feeling Cullen's back against her shift and move as he did the same. There were too many, they pressed too close, she could barely keep them off her and she was tiring, weakening …
Then the Inquisitor stepped out of the Fade, raised her hand, and slammed the rift shut.
Demons exploded, including the one right in Killeen's face, splattering her with something disgusting.
She spat and gagged and tried to rub her eyes clear with one gauntleted hand.
"Head back," Cullen ordered briskly, and when she obeyed, poured the contents of his water flask over her face. "That stuff evaporates but it can be nasty. Get a healer to check you."
"As soon as —"
He took her arm in a firm grip, turned her toward the stairs and gave her a shove. "As soon as now, Kill, that's an order."
"Yes, ser," she said, and went.
Rumours swirled past her as she waited outside the healer's tent for them to have time to deal with the walking wounded. The Inquisitor had disbanded the Wardens — she had conscripted the Wardens — she'd turned the Inquisition over to the Wardens. The Champion of Kirkwall had been seen — no, it was the Hero of Ferelden — and had vanished again, or been killed, or was lost in the Fade.
A wave of nausea swept over Killeen at the thought of being in the Fade, let alone trapped there, and she choked down bile until her stomach made a decisive heave and she vomited on the ground beside her, waves of retching that went on and on until she could barely catch her breath and then couldn't catch her breath and —
"Maker's breath!" Strong hands hauled her up and she was bundled over a fur-clad shoulder, carried, and lowered to a cot. "Lady Vivienne, if you would be so good — now. If you please."
Killeen hunched over, struggling for air as the spasms wracked her.
A cool hand touched the back of her neck and the nausea vanished like —
Killeen looked up at the unsmiling face of Madame de Fer. Magic.
She sucked in welcome air. "Thank you."
"I know it's ladylike to swallow, dear, but that hardly applies to the innards of demons," Lady Vivienne said, and over her shoulder Killeen saw Cullen blush scarlet.
Her own cheeks, she was sure, were the same colour, at least in the places the pride demon hadn't marked.
Cullen coughed. "I told you to get yourself seen straight away."
"I did, they said to wait."
"I daresay you didn't mention you'd been consuming toxic sludge," Lady Vivienne said. "Now, let me have a look at you." Firm hands took her head, turned her face from one side to another. "My, you have had quite the day of it, haven't you? I'm afraid I haven't the time to fix up everything, but let's get you in shape for the road, shall we?" She touched Killeen's face gently, cool tingling spreading from her fingers across Killeen's skin, then her shoulder, her chest, taking the pain away with them each time. "There. Have yourself seen again once you get back to Skyhold. You wear the uniform of the Inquisition, it's unbecoming to walk around looking like you make a habit of losing fights."
As Killeen started to get up, Cullen took her arm and steadied her. "She makes a habit of surviving them."
"So do I, my dear Commander," Lady Vivienne said coolly. "And yet, I find myself able to resist the temptation to walk around looking like I enjoyed a previous career as a training dummy. It must be a Ferelden thing. Like poor hygiene, and wine that can double as vinegar, or weedkiller, in a pinch."
With a swish of her robe, she strode away.
"Thanks," Killeen said, awkwardly trying to keep as much space between Cullen and herself as she could as he towed her out of the healer's tent. "I wish you'd mentioned that I might have been poisoned."
"I wish you'd by the Maker be where you're supposed to be, occasionally!" Cullen snapped. He steered her around the corner and into a quiet space between two empty wagons. "I'm trying to put a castle and an army together with my bare hands, you want to swan off on a tour of Thedas. An army of demons, and you're in front of it. Send you to the healers and you dawdle about outside."
"You sent me to the Exalted Plains and to Death Drink Springs," Killeen retorted, stung.
"You made it clear Skyhold wasn't to your tastes. And you're not exactly overseeing construction at the moment, are you?"
"Where in the Void am I supposed to be when you're fighting for your life but at your back?" Killeen demanded.
They glared at each other a moment, and then Cullen let out a long, shaky breath, and released her arm. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been … there's been a lot to do. Not much sleep."
Killeen was fluent enough in Commander Cullen to understand that was an apology.
My turn. "I'm sorry I chose a bad time to be away."
He muttered something that sounded like worse than you know, and then: "I understand your reasons. But I can put it behind me, if you can."
Killeen felt herself flush. "Sure," she said, with as much conviction as she could muster. "I'll just make sure the crew are —"
"Kill." Cullen's voice was ragged, and she saw for the first time how deep the shadows beneath his eyes had become, how sharp the lines of strain. Oh, Cullen. Is nobody watching through the night to let you sleep?
"I'll travel back with the army," she said. "I won't leave —" you "again."
His shoulders slumped. "Thank you," he said with evident relief.
"Now, come on," Killeen said briskly. "I'll take care of the casualty reports."
He followed as she strode off. "I'll —"
"Get some bloody sleep or I'll hit you with a hammer," Killeen said.
"Empty threat, without a hammer." His voice was lighter, almost back to normal. Almost.
She spotted the standard that marked his tent and headed toward it. "Look around, Commander." Killeen made a sweeping gesture to their surroundings. "We're in the middle of an army camp. Do you really think I couldn't lay my hands on a hammer in less than three minutes?"
She got a laugh from him, not much more than a whimper, but still a laugh. "I believe you could lay your hands on a hammer in less than three minutes in the middle of the Hissing Wastes."
"Exactly." Killeen ushered him into his tent and pointed at the cot. "Sleep."
He hesitated. "You'll —"
"Be back to work on the reports before you close your eyes," Killeen assured him.
"Thank you."
"Are you kidding?" She grinned at him. "Pass up this luxury?"
Quick as she was, Cullen was already out like a light when she returned, cloak and armour piled at the foot of the bed with a carelessness that told of his weariness. Killeen set them to rights as quietly as she could. Asleep, Cullen still looked tired, thinner than he had been, a couple of cuts on his cheek that looked to Killeen more like carelessness shaving than the marks of battle.
Killeen settled herself at his desk and sharpened a quill. Listening for the sound of her Commander's nightmares, she bent to work.