Dedicated to:

My amazing Beta reader, who asked me to dedicate this chapter to her.

Without her, we would not have this chapter.

I 3 Ms. Dank

Chapter 7

Erik had left in the night to go to the Storm Coast. Elena knew it was because he was upset with her. She still didn't really understand why his opinions of Cullen should really affect her opinions of him. She liked the Commander. She thought about him as she and Mother Giselle made their slow and careful way down to the lake side. Cullen, to her, was a constant guiding light. He was someone she wanted to view her in a positive, favorable way. She welcomed his calm authority on the training courts. When other trainers were yelling or upset he would walk over and snap both parties into line with quick, decisive words that sprung from a place of experience. He allowed his soldiers to relax when it wasn't needful for them to be vigilant and never minded that they poked fun at him from time to time. Sometimes, she admitted to herself, he wasn't the most tactful in his conversation, but she felt it came from a place of good will.

Elena's thoughts wandered away from his personality as a commander to their more personal interactions. She had found he had a quiet sense of humor and was in favor of sarcasm and quick-witted remarks more than anything else. He was rather good at making her smile, which she liked. It was easy to smile with him and she could never quiet seem to simply say good bye to him. There was always something she felt she must say or do or add before good bye felt like the only option to stop her from making a complete fool of herself over one thing or another. That last good bye… he had called her by her name. It had felt like he was trying to say so much more than just 'I forgive you for being rude to me. I'm sorry for being rude to you. Let's go back to the way we were. Good luck out there, you'll be fine.' She felt like she had had more to say as well.

And then, the previous day, when he had come up behind her— Elena didn't know what she'd expected to happen, but it certainly wasn't what had. It didn't matter, though, now. She had a whole day to be at the training grounds with him and with no Erik around to scold her for being friendly with Cullen, she felt like she'd be able to figure out what she'd expected from their first meeting that hadn't happened. Mother Giselle was telling her what to do and what not to do today at training and Elena hadn't heard a word.

"Of course, I'll be very careful, Mother Giselle." Elena said smiling innocently at her, "I don't want these wounds to take longer than necessary to heal."

"Good. Then, I'll leave you with the Commander to look after you." Mother Giselle caught Cullen's attention and waved him over, "Commander, please take care of Elena today. She is not to walk on that leg. I didn't even want her to come here today, but she insisted." She shot Elena a withering look. Elena had convinced her by refusing her breakfast and clean bandages until Mother Giselle gave in, "When she is ready to return to the Chantry, send for me and I will come get her myself."

Cullen looked at Elena and nodded, "Very well. Thank you, Mother." He reached out and Elena grasped his arm firmly. He pulled her against him and wrapped the arm around her waist, holding her upright as she leaned into his armored chest, the fur of his cowl tickling her too-warm cheek, "I'll take good care of her." Mother Giselle nodded and left. Cullen took her chin in his gloved hand and gently turned her face to look into her eyes. "Your brother spoke to me last night." He said his voice pitched low, the words falling across her face. "I feel I must, once again, apologize for my insensitivity towards you." The world around them seemed to grow quiet and still. She stared into his brown eyes, which looked like pools of warm honey in the early morning light.

"You don't need to. I understand." Her eyes drifted down to his mouth. She idly wondered how he got that scar on his lip.

He shook his head, "No. You don't."

"Well, then… you could explain it to me." She went back to looking into his eyes again.

"I—I don't think I can." His arm tightened ever so slightly around her waist. Her breath caught in her throat. Something was happening between them, though she didn't have a name for it. Was he… leaning his head down just a little more than a second ago? Her heart started to race as she noticed his eyes were darting from her mouth to her eyes and back again.

"Ooooh." Elena said, thinking quickly, "You're shy. Is that it?" Clearly, he was not if he was holding her like this.

Cullen let out a singular breath of a laugh, "Not really." He looked up, shifting around her so she stood by his side, one arm draped over his shoulders. They began to hobble their way from the gate towards the training grounds, "I don't know what it is about you. You make me act like such a fool sometimes."

"I'm just a girl."

"You're not just a girl, Elena." He muttered.

Elena stopped and looked up at him. He had said it again. It felt just as good hearing it, too. It warmed her whole body, sending the slight morning chill far from her awareness. "Cullen, do you—do you want—"

He had stopped too; they weren't too far from the tents, "Do I want… what?"

Elena took a breath and steadied herself; he hadn't even flinched at her use of his name. Stupid girl. It's just a name remember? "Do you want to go to the Maiden tonight? We're all going to meet there now that I'm up and about."

"I'll think about it." He told her bringing her to a tent filled with new recruits. He helped her inside and sat her on a small stool, "Weapons maintenance today." He instructed quietly, and was gone. She looked at her troops and smiled. "The Commander is helping me walk because I can't use a proper crutch with this busted arm and leg of mine." She explained taking a cue from their befuddled expressions.

One of the recruits piped up, "What happened?"

Elena briefly told the story, "As you can tell, my weapons did their jobs because I maintained them properly. I didn't do my job because I was inexperienced and slow. I'm lucky to have gotten off this easily. Now, let's start with sharpening daggers. The same techniques can largely be applied to all cutting blades, like a sword, with some simple modifications."

The rest of the day passed quickly as she taught her lessons and answered questions about her mission in the Fallow Mire. She didn't really care for the latter, but it helped to get the recruits to take their work seriously. By the end of the day every one could sharpen a dagger, short sword, and axe blade. She was proud of her recruits' weapons and told them so. When Cullen came to collect her, he inspected some of their handy-work and returned it with a nod of approval each time. Finally, it was just the pair of them in the tent.

"Is Mother Giselle here?" Elena asked quietly.

Cullen shook his blonde head at her, "No. I thought I could take you back. That is, if you don't mind."

She smiled, "That sounds lovely." He bent and hoisted her up into his arms, bridal style. "I take it you're going to the Maiden with me, then?"

Cullen ducked out of the tent, "Yes."

Elena nodded, twirling her fingers around in the red-tinged fur on his shoulders, "I have to get my bandages changed first." She told him, "I think Erik would literally kill you if he heard you had been present for that."

"I'll meet you there. I'm sure Mother Giselle will help you get there."

"Actually, Marston is helping me tonight." She told him, gently petting his fur cowl. It was surprisingly soft. "What animal did this come from?"

"What're you—oh. I think it's wolf."

"Wolf! Did you kill the wolf? Is this a trophy?"

"No. I don't remember how I got it, but I didn't kill the wolf and then turn it into clothes." He chuckled.

"Well, that's nice." She told him, settling herself more comfortably in his arms and laying her head on his shoulder. She could feel the stubble of his beard against her head and sighed happily. It had been a good day of work and now she was going to be able to see her friends and the Commander for dinner and drinks and possibly dancing. They entered the Chantry and Mother Giselle stepped away from a meeting with a dwarf. She scolded Cullen for not calling her, but helped get Elena settled in her room. Cullen left quickly and Mother Giselle busied herself with helping Elena undress. As she worked they spoke about their days. Mother Giselle had spent most of it arguing about the prices of herb shipments from various regions in Ferelden with the dwarf and arranging faster, safer transport for them. Elena told her of her evening plans with her friends and the Commander. Mother Giselle didn't need any more prodding and launched into a speech about "fraternizing with commanding officers." Elena couldn't help but start to laugh at that phrase.

"It is nothing to laugh at. The Commander has not always been an honorable man, my lady. You need to be careful with him." Mother Giselle admonished, tying the final knot in Elena's thigh bandage.

"I am careful with all men, Mother." She responded, rolling her eyes heavenward. Mother Giselle was a perfectly kind woman, but she was a little old fashioned.

"It is still nice to be reminded of such things from time to time." Mother Giselle undid the ragged braids behind Elena's ears and pulled a comb through the knots, "Your hair has grown. It looks nice at this length." She observed quietly, working a larger-than-normal knot out.

Elena reached up with her good hand and grabbed some of it, twirling it around her finger, "It's too long for fighting."

Mother Giselle put her comb back in its original spot just as there was a knock on the door. "That must be your guest." She went and opened it to reveal Marston. He stood there with his hands thrust into his belt loops, looking nervous.

"Hello Mother." He greeted the older woman, "Hello Elena, feeling up to some socialization tonight?"

Elena nodded, "Yes, please! I'm starved!" She reached out to him as he came over. He gently lifted her. Elena couldn't help noticing that it took him an extra second to pick her up from the chair. Cullen had no issue carrying her and he had been in armor. "I can walk if you set my feet down. I'm slow, but you won't have to hold me."

Marston shifted her up in his arms as they left the Chantry and turned left, "Won't be necessary, Trevelyan." He told her making his way through the door, "I carry a great axe around, remember?"

She shook her head, "What is it with men and carrying me around like a doll? I can walk. Put me down."

Marston looked down at her incredulously, "You can't be serious. You just had an arrow pulled out of your leg two weeks ago. The infection just cleared up a few days ago. You can't possibly put weight on it. You'll ruin any progress you made!" He shifted her in his arms again at the bottom of the stairs, "I won't allow it."

"Put me down, please, William." She said sternly, not liking that he was implying she was stupid and incapable at the same time. "I'm a grown woman. I can make my own decisions."

"Mother Giselle would be—"

"I don't care what that old bat has to say. Put me down." Marston gave in and set her on her feet. Elena tried to stand on her own. It hurt like seven hells but she managed to arrange herself so it only hurt like three hells. "SEE?" She said proudly, wobbling on her good leg, "I can do it!" She took a step, planning carefully, if she only kind of hopped from the bad leg to the good one in miniscule steps, she would be all right. It worked for a little bit. Marston hovered just to the side, his arms held out half-way.

"This is ridiculous, Elena!" He hissed at her, casting his eyes around, "Put your silly pride aside and let me help you. You're going to—"Too late; she left her weight on the bad leg a second too long and pitched forward. He caught her, hugging her close to his body, "Fall."

Elena was face first in his chest. She could feel his heart thundering beneath his shirt. He was panting. Elena had never noticed that Marston, while not as burly or brawny as the men she typically found herself looking at these days, he was a well-muscled man. He was usually kind, if a bit protective occasionally towards her. He looked down at her, scolding her for being so reckless. All she could think about was the way his eyes, full of worry, caught the bits of torch light coming from the brackets on the outside of the buildings. She'd never noticed before, but he had the most piercing blue eyes she'd ever seen. They were positively crystalline. She'd also never noticed how nice his face was. He had an angular jaw that he kept clean-shaven, well-defined if not high cheekbones, and thick, dark eyebrows.

"Are you listening to me?" He asked her, giving her a slight shake.

"Yes."

"Then what'd I say?" He scooted his face closer to hers, "Hmmm?"

Elena blushed; she kept getting unbelievably close to handsome men today and had no idea what to do with herself. "You said… OK I wasn't listening. I was thinking about how your eyes are kind of… beautiful."

He openly laughed at her, "Elena!" He continued, hoisting her arm around his shoulder and moving forward, "You are such a flatterer. No more tricks tonight."

She hadn't been flattering him, but if it got her out of a scolding for not listening, she was happy to keep her mouth shut about it. They hadn't been very far from the Singing Maiden when she had attempted to prove herself, so they arrived very shortly thereafter. Reeves rushed to her and took over for Marston, spilling talk forth in a way that Elena had never heard her do before. Porteur was already a little tipsy, pouring himself another mug of ale and munching on a bread roll at the same time. The Singing Maiden was filled with light and laughter and dancing. Maryden was in one of her best moods, singing upbeat songs instead of the usual slow ones that made Elena think about their meanings. Reeves settled her at the table with Porteur and went to the bar.

"Elena!" Porteur called to her, shoving a plate of food at her and plunking himself down beside her, "Eat up! We're celebrating your health tonight!" He draped an arm across the back of her chair and leaned in close to her, swallowing a gulp of ale. "We're so glad you didn't die. I think the Commander about had a conniption when he saw us ride in without you." He started to laugh, "He looked at me and, oh, he was so cute. He looked at me all twitchy with his hands and he says to me he says," Porteur affected an exceedingly good impression of Cullen's voice, "'Where is the lady Trevelyan?' and I said 'She's with her brother.' Then he gets real shocked and goes 'Alone!' and I said 'Of course alone, all the rest of us are here. Do the math.' And then he got real angry with me and we had a talk about treating superior officers with respect and he gave me latrine duty for a week! So I've been shoveling shit today. That's why I need a drink!" He upended his mug and smacked his lips. "How've you been?"

Elena couldn't help but giggle at the retelling. Porteur had Cullen and his mannerisms well in-hand. "The Commander was worried about me?" She asked, taking a large gulp herself from the mug Porteur passed to her, "I mean, we're friends, but I didn't know he worried about anything other than the Inquisition."

Porteur nodded sagely, "Well of course. He's a man. You're a woman. A man worries about women. I know I spent the whole time in that ghastly swamp worrying about Reeves." He looked across the tavern at Reeves struggling to move through the crowd with two full pitchers, Marston trailing behind her with two pitchers of his own, "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Reeves? Yes, she's quite striking." Elena took another drink, "Speaking of the Commander… he will be joining us in a bit."

Porteur spit his drink across the table, "He what!?"

"He's going to join us." Elena repeated calmly. "I hope nobody minds, but he's a good friend of mine and I know he normally spends most of his free time alone so I thought I'd invite him."

Porteur sat back and squinted at her, "You didn't invite him for that."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"No, you invited him to get him drunk. Maker knows he needs a drink more than shit-shovelers like me." Porteur stared down into his mug, "Poor bastard's only ever known work. It'll be good for him to interact with normal folk."

"I don't think you qualify as normal, Recruit Porteur." Cullen's refined and silky voice cut through the noise of the tavern. Elena felt a ripple go down her spine as she looked over her shoulder to see him standing there. He'd removed his armor and was dressed simply in a white shirt with half-open lacing on the front, his furred cloak, light brown breeches and knee-high black boots. Porteur's face visibly lost all of its color. Elena giggled. "Good evening, my lady." Cullen told her, his honey-brown eyes flickering down to her. "Is this seat taken?" He indicated the seat to her right.

She shook her head, tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear, "No, by all means, please be seated."

He sat next to her in a fluid motion and picked up an empty mug from the table. "Pass the ale please, I'm parched." Elena slid him the pitcher Porteur had been pouring from. She watched him pour the drink. He took several swallows and then removed his cloak, draping it on the back of the chair, "That's better." He said, turning to smile at her and Porteur, "Anything fun happen today, Porteur?"

Porteur shook his head, "No sir, not until I got here."

Elena chimed in, "You should hear Porteur's impression of you! It's spot-on."

"Oh really?" Cullen dragged the two words out, giving Porteur a wicked stare. Elena could tell he was only teasing the younger man, and hid a smile behind her hand as Porteur's eyes got wide.

"Commander!" Reeves called out gaily as she plunked her pitchers down, followed quickly by Marston doing the same, "Elena didn't tell me she invited you! How nice to see you outside of training!"

Marston was a little more reserved, but no less friendly, "Yes, Reeves, even the powerful people like to slum it with us army recruits from time to time." He poured himself a drink, "Of course, we're not just any old recruits. We're Elena's team. We survived Avaar imprisonment, the Fallow Mire, and training here. Not everyone can say that!"

Cullen chuckled, "Of course, not. Then, again not everyone is as amazing as you, Marston. Why, didn't you manage to lose your great axe in an Avaar's stomach? That really is quite a feat." He sipped his drink and leaned back casually, one hand hanging by his side, the other clutching his mug on the table. "I've never seen the tavern this lively before."

"We're celebrating!" Reeves told him, her face flushed as she sat on Porteur's left, "I don't know what everyone else is up to, but this table." She slapped the table harshly, "This table is celebrating!"

The night went on with fun and games and music. At one point, Porteur and Marston got up and sang a bawdy song about mermaids with Maryden while Reeves reinacted their story for the crowd. Elena sat and drank, laughing along with everyone, throwing in her own jokes and stealing looks at Cullen. He was so handsome in the tavern. His eyes danced with mirth and she'd never seen him smile so much as he did in the few hours they'd been in the tavern. He had a lovely smile. She wondered about that scar again. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his right cheek, turning his face to hers. He stopped speaking and became very still, his eyes searching her face.

"Elena?" He asked, his voice just loud enough for her to hear him, but she was pretty sure that no one else could, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, a slow, dreamy smile spreading across her lips, "I just wanted to look at you." She took her hand away and sank her chin into it, "Tell me, Cullen."

"Tell you what?" He was obviously feeling nervous because he leaned slightly away from her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"How'd you get that scar?" She touched a finger to her own lip indicating where his was on her own face, "It must be a terribly good story."

Reeves, Marston, and Porteur clattered into their seats laughing wildly, but Elena and Cullen didn't break eye contact. "What's going on with you two, then?" Marston asked his words slurring together.

"The Commander was going to tell me the story behind his scar." Elena explained, shooting Marston a withering look as she straightened herself up, "Or at least he was until you showed up."

"Tell us!" Reeves and Porteur chimed in together and then began babbling over each other, "I bet he got it working in Ferelden. Some little lass tricked him and got past his shield with her staff! Oo! Or he got a rock thrown at him! Oo! OR he got attacked by a cat!" They collapsed together on the table top still babbling together but laughing too hard to be understood.

"Get it together, you two!" Marston barked at them and then motioned at Cullen, "Go on then. Give us the story."

Cullen blushed underneath the flush the alcohol had given him, "It's—It's a long story." He looked at Elena apologetically, "Perhaps another time."

Elena looked away from him, pouting. Her friends had ruined a good story for her. "I think it's time for me to go home." She grumbled.

Cullen stood and flung his cloak around his shoulders. "I'll take you if you'd like." Elena nodded and, using the back of the chair for support, stood on her good leg. Cullen bent and scooped her into his arms, "Good night, all. Thank you for letting me join in." He told the three people sitting.

"Hey. Aren't you going to walk?" Marston shouted at Elena. "You wouldn't let me carry you like that!" He stood and walked around the table, to stand obstinately before her and Cullen. He was a half a head shorter and much less broad than the Commander, but that didn't seem to intimidate him. "Put her down. She likes to walk. She's not a baby."

Elena blushed, "Marston!" She hissed, her arm tightening around Cullen's neck as she leaned towards him, "Stop this."

"Well how come he gets to carry you and I don't! That ain't fair, Trevelyan!"

"Recruit Marston!" Cullen's voice was sharp and piercing and loud, "You've over-stepped your bounds." The tavern's noise ceased as everyone stopped and stared.

Elena glared at him, "I can handle this, Commander. He's my soldier. Put me down, please." Cullen set her on the ground and put an arm around her waist, holding her up as she let go of his shoulder. "Come here." She whispered, motioning to the man in front of her. Steel settled in her spine as he got closer, "You're drunk. Go home." She looked behind her at the table, catching Reeves' eye. The Elf nodded and got Porteur's attention. They both came as quickly as they could manage and stood behind Marston.

"You needed us, Corporal?" Reeves asked, hiding a hiccup behind her hand. Porteur swayed a little on the spot beside her. Even drunk these two knew their duty. Marston, though… Elena wished he was the same. He was not, however, and so he must be dealt with.

"Take Recruit Marston to the barracks." She ordered locking eyes with Marston as she did so. "Clean him up. I'll discuss this with him tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am!" Porteur saluted and grabbed onto Marston's shirt sleeve, tugging him a little ways backwards, "Come on, William. Let's go before you make a fool of yourself."

Marston brushed him off, "I want her to answer me and then I'll go."

Elena took a large breath in, "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

Marston stepped closer to her, "I guess I don't really need an answer, seeing you stand there next to him. You know, we were all wondering why your brother sent you on that mission as the leader. You, who had no more experience than the rest of us, were made the leader on your first mission." He spat it out.

"I earned that right because I do have more experience than the rest of you." She replied simply. This conversation was making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She stood away from Cullen's supporting arm, thanking the Maker for the alcohol that dulled the pain in her leg enough for her to do so. "And because I'm not some hot-headed half-wit like you."

Marston laughed, "No, that's not true. None of it is. We all know the reason why!" he motioned at the tavern as a whole, "We all know it's because of him!" Marston jabbed a finger at Cullen, "It's because you're his whore." Marston reached out and shoved her back towards him. She bumped into Cullen's arm, and he steadied her. Reeves and Porteur lunged forward, grabbing Marston's arms. Cullen moved with practiced ease, stepping forward and slamming a fist into Marston's face. A short upper cut straight from the shoulder with the added momentum of that singular step, Elena heard bone crack and watched as Marston's body went limp in his friends' arms.

Then, huffing, Cullen swept around to face the room, "Anyone else have something they'd like to say?" He paused, and made eye contact with everyone, "Very good. If you do, you know where to find me."

He swept Elena into his arms and out of the door into the cold night air. He walked swiftly; Elena could tell he was going back to the Chantry because they had exited through the side door and turned left in the dark alley between buildings. She felt hot all over her body, especially the places where hers touched his. Without his armor there, she could feel so much. She felt the strength in his arms as they supported her against his body. She felt the heat from his torso spread along the right side of her body. His chest was hard against her shoulder. She peeked up at his face. He was breathing heavily and looked absolutely furious. His blonde hair had become mussed in the night and a few locks fell forward onto his forehead where they bounced in time with his walk. His lips were pursed, but he was muttering. She couldn't understand what he was saying, but she imagined it wasn't anything a lady should hear. She pushed her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, surprised to find how soft they were. He looked down at her and stopped muttering.

"Cullen?" She asked hesitantly. He shook his head at her and looked up, some of the anger gone from the hard line of his jaw. She grew quiet again, praying that the world was only spinning from the ale. The tight feeling in her whole body told her she was wrong, but it was always worth a hope.

He roughly kicked the door to the Chantry open, and hurried past the alcoves to her room. The door had been left ajar, he kicked that one open so hard that as he strode through it, it swung closed behind him. He set her on her feet near the back wall and pushed his hands up into her hair on either side of her face, searching her eyes carefully. She reached up and held onto his shaking wrist, her own eyes searching his. His eyes, usually the color of liquid honey had changed with his anger. They were like two hard pieces of amber boring into what felt like her very soul. He had his jaw clenched and brow furrowed. Slowly, the anger faded and his expression relaxed. He let out a quivering, slow breath.

"I'm sorry." He told her, his voice cracking avoiding her eyes, "I'm so sorry to have caused this. Why must I always be so foolish around you?" He addressed a space just above her head.

"Marston is an ass." She told him softly. "Thank you." He scoffed. "Look at me, please." She tugged a little on his wrist. He obliged, and straightened himself up a little bit, bringing his body closer to hers. She felt surrounded by him. His hands in her hair felt warm and strong. He was so close to her, their faces a breath away from each other. His body was even closer; she could feel the heat pouring through his clothes onto her. Elena's body shivered pleasurably at this realization and her breath caught in her throat as she realized he was staring at her mouth. "You are not a fool." She whispered, "You are a good man."

He groaned, "No, I really am a fool." And pushed his lips against hers, one hand went behind her head, tilting her into the kiss, the other sliding past her shoulders and pulling her fully against him. She melted into it, her soft body molding itself against his hard one. He pushed her against the wall, shoving one of his thighs between her legs. She stood on tiptoe, her hand pushing itself into his hair and holding his face to hers. His hands roved freely, first holding her by the shoulders, then winding around her to pull her ever closer. He deepened their kiss, his tongue pushing past her lips and into her mouth to give her a playful lick. She responded in the same manner, relishing the feel of him kissing her. It was animalistic and primal. The way his arms and body stiffened against her as she pushed against him… He guided her back towards the bed, taking care for her leg. She kissed his neck hungrily, sucking on his fair skin. He let out a guttural sound and crashed his lips back onto hers with renewed fervor, still guiding her towards the bed.

Elena's one good hand pushed the cloak away from his shoulders before working on the already loose lacing on the front of his shirt, pushing the thick cotton up over his hips and stomach. She felt the bumps of his muscles beneath her hand and let out a delighted sigh against his mouth. He pushed her on the edge of the bed, breaking their kiss, and kneeled down before her. He reached up and grabbed hold of her hand before she could touch him again, looking away from her with embarrassment in every line of his face. They were both breaking hard in the silent room. He wet his lips with his tongue and cleared his throat.

"What's the matter?" She asked softly, suddenly concerned.

"We should stop this." He told her, letting go of her hand and tugging his shirt back into its proper place. "I should never—never have—" He looked up into her eyes and stopped himself. "I've got to go." He stood and turned to leave.

"Cullen!?" She called, reaching out to him. Why did her heart feel so tiny all of a sudden? It had been so full a moment ago.

He paused with the door open and turned his face so she could hear him, "Good night, my lady." He said and was gone. She heard the Chantry door slam closed and looked around her room, feeling utterly lost. Her lips trembled. She had never been so thoroughly or so passionately kissed before. He had taught her what it meant to be kissed and had left like it was nothing. She felt her heart pull itself into a tighter ball and break in half. The tears started flowing then and she pushed herself from the bed. She fell, landing on her injured shoulder and hardly noticed the pain it sent through her. She rolled over and crawled along the floor towards the door, determined to speak to him. She reached out to pull herself along again and was met with the thick scarlet wool of Cullen's cloak in her hand. She pulled the cloak over to her and sat up, sniffling. He had left it. She wrapped the furred garment around herself and waited. He would come back for this. It was cold outside and his tent was far away near the lake. Elena dried her tears and watched the door. He will come back. He has to.

Author's Note: I'm just going to leave this here. Peace and Blessing be upon you all. -Danbamina