The stench of blood was thick, hanging heavily in the air around the survivors of Haven's fall. They had barely reached safety after the avalanche buried the village and many of the enemies that pursued them. The wind had thankfully died down, but that was only where the Inquisition had made camp. The mountain pass was subjected to fierce and icy winds, bringing the chill down into the small valley. Several fires dotted the campsite, the survivors hoping that somehow it would be enough to keep them warm. There weren't enough blankets, coats, or cloaks to go around, and the reality of some of their numbers falling prey to a wintery death left them with even less.

After what seemed like hours, news finally arrived that the Herald of Andraste had been found- albeit barely alive. Many of the healers were called to assist in stabilizing their savior, but the others remained to continue attending to the other wounded. Among them was a young woman named Leah.

Leah had grown up much like any commoner would in Fereldan with a loving family and a good home, but that changed when the Blight ravaged the lands. Her parents died during the darkspawn attack on the village, her brother was killed in battle after being conscripted to fight in the civil wars breaking out across the kingdom, and she was left with nowhere to go. She had to do whatever she could to survive, and having learned a thing or two from her mother about housework and first aid, she was able to make herself useful and took jobs whenever they came her way. She was useless in a fight, barely able to wield a sword, but she knew enough to get herself out of trouble if it came down to it.

By the time the Blight ended and a new king sat on the throne, Leah was ready to just move on. She traveled all over the place, learning anything new that she could from each place she visited. She adapted the things she was taught by the kind strangers who took her under their wing, applying that newfound knowledge to her own skills. Years went by with news of Kirkwall and the start of the Mage-Templar war reaching even the Anderfels. Leah eventually made her way to the Crossroads to assist the wounded and refugees before she was recruited into the Inquisition. And now, she is faced once again with the harsh realities of war times.

"Leah, all finished here, why don't you go see if the Herald's advisors are taken care of?"

Leah nodded, gathering her supplies together before making her way towards the heart of the camp. It was here that the Herald and his advisors were resting, planning out their next move.

"Pardon the interruption, but I've been asked to see to any injuries you may have." She bowed politely, hoping she would not offend them in any way. She was always wary of the Herald's advisors, as they were also the leaders of the Inquisition- two of them being the Hands of the Divine. She stood upright and looked them over, seeing that they were relatively uninjured aside from some scrapes and bruises. "You appear to have been quite lucky thus far, though."

"We are fine, there is no need for treatment."

"Begging your pardon, your ladyship, but I disagree. Even minor scrapes left untreated can prove to be fatal, especially given the current situation. At least allow me to apply an ointment?"

The three women who were gathered exchanged looks, then sighed in defeat.

"Very well."

Leah nodded and gestured for them to sit, taking the small jar of ointment from her bag. "This may sting a bit, but it will help with the healing process."

As Leah made her way around to each woman, gently rubbing the ointment over their small wounds, the Commander approached them.

"The patrols have reported no sign of the enemy, so for now, we appear to be safe."

"That is good to hear."

"True, but I fear that it will not last long."

Leah finished with the Antivan woman, Josephine, and looked up at the Commander. He looked like he had been through the Fade and back, incredibly exhausted and battered. She noticed that he had a few scrapes himself, but it was the gash on his arm that had her worried more.

"Is there something wrong?" the Commander asked, seeing her brow furrow. He recognized her from amongst the healers' ranks.

Leah approached, gently moving the torn fabric from the wound. "You have a nasty wound, ser, why have you yet to get it tended to?"

The Commander looked away, shrugging off her hands. "That's the least of my concerns at the moment." When he heard a dissatisfied sigh and glanced back down at the woman next to him, he was surprised to be met with defiant eyes and felt a heat creep along his neck and ears as the other advisors chuckled. "W-What?"

"You are the Commander of the Inquisition's forces, are you not?" Leah asked, crossing her arms and glaring up at him.

"Yes?"

"Right, so then do you think it wise to go trudging about the camp and ignoring your wounds, despite the message it sends to your troops?"

The Commander found himself speechless. He would not have expected to get scolded over something so small- well, small in his mind.

"You best let her tend to your wounds, Cullen," the spymaster said. "She is quite skilled."

The Commander, Cullen Rutherford, sighed in defeat and looked at the woman. "Very well."

"Good, now let's get this armor off shall we?"

"Pardon?"

"I need to get a better look at your wound and I cant do that with all this," she gestured at his attire, "in the way."

Cullen made to reply, but the look Leah gave him stopped the words from coming out.

"Look, are you going to take it off yourself or do I need to do it for you?"

The thought of Leah, of any woman, undressing him was enough to make him blush. But in the midst of their camp? In front of the women he worked with? He may as well be naked as a nug.

The other women chuckled at his flustered reaction and found it amuding that he was so quick to silence before Leah.

Leah could fell he was uncomfortable, so she simply took his hand and pulled him off towards an empty tent. Cullen protested for a moment, but he sensed what she was trying to do and conceded. Once inside the tent, Leah turned her back to him and waited for him to change out of his armor.

"Let me know when it's safe to turn around."

"Maker, you really don't have to go to such lengths, miss."

"Leah."

"What?"

"My name, it's Leah."

"Oh, right. I am Cullen, as you probably already know."

"I do, but it's still polite introduce yourself nonetheless."

After a moment or two, Cullen cleared his throat and Leah turned to find him sitting on the cot with his arm pulled out of the sleeve of his tunic. She could she some of his musculature peeking out from beneath the tunic, but her eyes were quickly drawn towards the wound on his arm.

"It's deeper than I thought," she noted as she cleaned the area. "You'll need it stitched closed if you don't see one of the mages."

"Just stitch it, then. The mages have enough to worry about and we dont have that much lyrium to spare."

"Is that why you've stopped taking yours?"

Cullen looked at her, surprised. "How-"

"I've seen the symptoms before. They're never pretty, nor easy to manage, and it'll only get worse from here until you've rid your body of the need for it." Leah got her sewing kit out and began sanitizing the needle. "Will you be able to manage, though? Especially with all thats happening?"

Cullen gritted his teeth as Leah poured a bit of alcohol over the wound and began stitching it closed. "I will manage somehow."

"You need to do more than that, ser. You're our Commander, you're one of the Herald's advisors and a leader of the Inquisition. We need you to be able to do your duties without putting yourself at unnecessary risk."

Cullen sighed, his arm numb to the pain now. "I know..."

"Good. You're smart enough to know the dangers of lyrium withdrawal, but don't be so stubborn that you try to bear this alone."

A silence hung in the tent as Leah finished stitching the wound. She stepped back, grabbed some bandages, then wrapped his arm carefully.

"I want you to have the wound checked every few hours to make sure an infection doesnt set in. I've cleaned and dressed the wound best as I can manage, so you should be fine, but I'd rather err on the side of caution jusf in case."

Leah cleaned her tools, then turned back to Cullen with a different needle and thread. "May I mend your tunic as well, ser?"

Cullen nodded, slipping the tunic off the rest of the way and handing it to her. He watched as she sat down across from him, stitching the hole back together.

"Until we can reach a secure location and can catch a breather, we need to take care of what supplies and gear we do still have." Leah noted, tying the final knot before handing the Commander his tunic back. "It may not be much, but it'll at least keep the cold out and away fro, your bandages."

Cullen slipped the tunic over his head and stood, moving to don his armor once more. "Thank you, Leah."

Leah simply nodded and gave him a small bow before making her way towards the entrance of the tent.

Cullen reached forward to grab her hand and stopped her for a moment, not even thinking about why. When Leah looked back at him, he found himself unable to speak.

Wondering why he had stopped her, Leah held his amber gaze for a few moments. When he said nothing, however, she simply gave his hand a gentle squeeze and told him to rest.

Cullen found comfort in that small gesture and let go of her hand, letting her leave. 'Why did I stop her..?' He pondered a few moments as he fastened the last piece of his armor together, wondering if it was simply her determination or her own stubbornness in treating his wounds. Or perhaps it was something else. In any case, Cullen was quick to push such thoughts aside and resume his duties quickly.

They could not stay camped there forever after all.