~~~Hello everyone. I have rewritten this chapter as well. Please enjoy and thank you for reading.~~~
~Xarga12~
Cullen shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the clatter of utensils against porcelain echoing in the quiet room. He couldn't remember the last time he had sat down for a proper breakfast, and the unfamiliarity of the situation left him feeling awkward and out of place. With a forced smile, he attempted to mask his unease as he picked at his food, barely managing to take a single bite before his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
Lost in a haze of memories that refused to coalesce, Cullen's brow furrowed in frustration. He tried to recall the last time he had seen her, but the threads of recollection slipped through his fingers like smoke. Unaware of his own murmurs, he was jolted back to reality by the sound of his name. "Cullen, are you okay?" The concern in Hawke's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts, and Cullen blinked, refocusing on the figures before him. Hawke and Nereida regarded him with matching expressions of worry, their eyes searching his for signs of distress.
"I'm... I'm fine," Cullen replied, his voice strained as he attempted to gather his scattered thoughts. Hawke's brow furrowed, her concern deepening. "You don't look fine. Are you sure everything's alright?"
Cullen hesitated, his gaze shifting to Nereida who watched him with a quiet intensity. There was something about her gaze, something familiar yet elusive that tugged at the edges of his memory. Steeling himself, Cullen took a steadying breath before speaking. "I... I need to ask something," he began, his voice faltering slightly. "How do you know who I am? I don't recall ever meeting you before, and yet... you seem familiar somehow." The words hung heavy in the air, and Cullen held his breath, waiting for their response. Nereida's face fell, her eyes dropping to her lap as a shadow crossed her features. Cullen's heart twinged with guilt at the sight, but he needed answers. Hawke's incredulous voice shattered the silence, her disbelief palpable. "You really don't remember? The last time we all saw each other?" Cullen shook his head in confusion, his brow furrowing in frustration. "I... I don't understand. What are you talking about? And does this have anything to do with how you been acting?" The weight of his confusion hung heavy in the air, the unanswered questions swirling around them like a storm on the horizon. As silence settled over the room once more, Cullen couldn't shake the feeling that there was something crucial he was missing, something buried deep within the recesses of his mind.
Hawke's voice cut through the air like a knife, sharp with accusation. "Remember when you said last week that you were more compassionate than Meredith when it came to mages, and when Nereida came to the gallows asking to speak to a Tranquil, but you dismissed her." The words hit Cullen like a blow to the chest, the weight of their implications sending a shiver down his spine. He tried to recall the events she described, but the memories remained stubbornly out of reach, like shards of glass slipping through his fingers. "I... I have no recollection of such an event," he replied, his voice tinged with disbelief. The words tasted hollow on his lips, a bitter reminder of his own failings. A sharp pain lanced through Cullen's head, his vision swimming as he instinctively reached for the small lyrium vial at his side. He hadn't even realized he had taken it, his body acting on instinct alone. As the headache subsided, Cullen's memory began to return in fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror slowly piecing themselves back together. He looked at Nereida, her eyes filled with sorrow - those same familiar eyes that he had failed to recognize until now. Before he could gather his thoughts, Hawke's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts once more, her words heavy with concern. "Cullen, how long have you been taking lyrium to help with your headaches?"
Cullen's gaze dropped to his trembling hands, the empty vial clutched tightly between his fingers. Shame burned hot in his chest as he struggled to find the words to explain, to justify his actions. "I... I need to get some air," he managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion. Without waiting for a response, he pushed himself away from the table and bolted out the door, the echo of Hawke and Nereida's voices fading behind him. He ran, his footsteps echoing in the empty streets as he fled the suffocating weight of his own thoughts. It was only when he found himself standing before the imposing stone facade of the chantry that he allowed himself to stop, the cool marble beneath his fingertips a silent reminder of the solace he sought. Kneeling before the statue of Andraste, Cullen bowed his head in silent prayer, his words a whispered plea for forgiveness and understanding. He prayed for clarity, for guidance in the face of uncertainty, his heart heavy with the weight of his own shortcomings.
Time seemed to blur as Cullen knelt in silent contemplation before the statue of Andraste, his thoughts a turbulent whirlwind of doubt and self-recrimination. His legs ached from the prolonged strain, a testament to the weight of his burdened conscience. With a weary sigh, he rose slowly to his feet, his legs trembling beneath him as he struggled to find his balance. He stood there for a moment, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him like a leaden cloak. How far had he allowed himself to stray down the path of dependence on lyrium? The specter of Samson loomed large in his mind, a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of addiction. Would he too succumb to the madness that awaited, consumed by the very substance he had sworn to wield with restraint? Shaking his head, Cullen pushed aside the insidious whisperings of doubt that threatened to overwhelm him. No, he couldn't afford to dwell on such thoughts. He had a duty to fulfill, a responsibility to uphold, no matter the cost.
With a resolute nod, Cullen descended the stairs of the chantry, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the morning. The streets of Hightown were beginning to stir with the bustle of activity as residents went about their daily routines. Suddenly, a wave of self-reproach washed over him, the memory of his hasty departure from breakfast with Hawke and Nereida weighing heavily on his conscience. He cursed himself under his breath, his palm connecting with his forehead in a gesture of frustration. "They must think me a fool," he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with shame. Despite his best efforts to maintain a façade of composure, he was painfully aware of his own fallibility. After a brief internal debate, Cullen resolved to seek out Hawke in Lowtown and make amends for his earlier behavior. He squared his shoulders, his mind made up as he turned to make his way to Nereida's house. As he stood outside her door, hesitating and uncertain, it swung open with a creak, revealing Nereida standing before him, dressed in supple leather armor that spoke of a life lived on the edge.
Nereida's startled yelp echoed through the air, a jarring interruption to the quiet morning. Cullen's heart skipped a beat as he recoiled instinctively, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. "Ar iá ámenel!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of surprise and alarm. Cullen blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the sudden outburst. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice tinged with apology. "I didn't mean to startle you. I came back to find Hawke. Is she inside?" Nereida's breath came in short, rapid bursts as she struggled to compose herself, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on Cullen. "Marian? She's not here," she replied, her voice still tinged with residual shock. "She went out to look for you, but if she didn't find you, she said she would wait for you at her estate." Cullen nodded, a sense of disappointment settling over him like a heavy blanket. "Thank you," he murmured, his gaze drifting to the ground. "I should be on my way."
Before he could take a step, Nereida's voice called out from behind him, halting him in his tracks. "Wait!" she exclaimed, her tone urgent.
Cullen turned on his heel, his brow furrowing in confusion as he watched Nereida retrieve her bow from beside the door. "Since you're heading in that direction, would it be alright for me to accompany you?" she asked, her voice tentative. Cullen hesitated, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. He was used to solitude, to the quiet company of his own thoughts. But something about the sincerity in Nereida's voice tugged at his heartstrings, stirring a strange sense of warmth within him. "Certainly," he replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I see no harm in that." A flicker of relief crossed Nereida's features as she returned his smile, her eyes lighting up with gratitude. Cullen couldn't help but chuckle softly in response, a rare moment of levity amidst the weight of their shared burdens. As they prepared to leave, Cullen turned to face Nereida, his gaze meeting hers with a newfound sense of openness. She tensed slightly, her guard rising instinctively in response to his sudden attention.
Cullen's throat tightened as he mustered the courage to speak, the weight of his guilt heavy upon his shoulders. "Look, before we go, I just wanted to apologize for anything hurtful I may have said or done," he began, his voice soft with sincerity. "I wanted to apologize the next day when we first met, or when you came to see me, but I completely forgot. This is the first time in a week since I left the Gallows." He watched intently as Nereida listened, her expression a mix of empathy and understanding. She remained silent, patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts and continue. "And I wanted to apologize for this morning's behavior," Cullen continued, his voice tinged with regret. "It was unworthy of me for you to witness me in such a state." As he finished speaking, he held his breath, waiting for Nereida's response. Her eyes remained fixed on him, devoid of judgment or reproach. Instead, she smiled warmly, a gesture of kindness that caught Cullen off guard. "It's okay," she said softly, her voice filled with compassion. "I wish I could understand what you are going through, but I do not. I've never met someone like yourself who is enduring so much pain yet still manages to carry on." Her words struck a chord within Cullen's heart, a reminder that he was not alone in his struggles.
Cullen opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to evaporate before they could take shape. He felt a surge of frustration rise within him, his mind a swirling tempest of conflicting emotions.
Who was she to make him feel this way? He couldn't fathom the sudden turmoil that churned within him, a maelstrom of uncertainty and vulnerability. But Nereida saw his struggle, her gaze softening with understanding. "Just remember, all you need is an anchor to keep you grounded when your life spins out of control," she said gently, her words a lifeline in the midst of his inner turmoil. They stood there in silence, just a few feet apart, each lost in their own thoughts. Cullen was at a loss for words, his carefully constructed walls crumbling in the face of Nereida's unwavering compassion. How could someone who had just entered his life have such a profound effect on him? It was as if she could see through the facade he had spent years building, peeling back the layers of his defenses with a single glance. But reality intruded upon his reverie, a harsh reminder of the darkness that lurked within him. She didn't know who he was, or the sins he had committed. He was unworthy of her kindness, undeserving of the praise she bestowed upon him. With a firm shake of his head, Cullen pushed aside the self-doubt that threatened to consume him.
This wasn't the time or place for such thoughts. He had a duty to fulfill, a responsibility to uphold, no matter the cost. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice tinged with gratitude. "Now, let's be on our way." As he turned to leave, Cullen felt a pang of regret at the distance he had placed between them. But he couldn't afford to let his guard down any further, not when the stakes were so high. As he made his way towards Hightown, he left Nereida behind, the echo of her footsteps fading into the distance. But to his surprise, he soon heard the soft sound of her steps catching up to him. She walked silently alongside him, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Cullen could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he stole a glance at her, only to find her already looking away. They walked in blissful silence, each lost in their own thoughts.