Author's Note: HELLLLOOOO NEW YORK! Well, we're not in New York, but some of you might be... ANYWAY! Nice to see everyone again! Hi. How are ya? I am sorry for the long wait, we had some family issues pop up very suddenly and then school started again (teacher life is SO busy). FINALLY things are settling back down and I was able to finish this puppy up for ya.

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK THANK YOU THANK YOU! To my new follower: Ayrah and my new Favorites: daphanie and hopelessromantic34! Even with the long wait it was good to see and hear from you guys! I love you all and thank you all for your continued support in this (what is quickly becoming massive) endeavor of mine!

Without further ado, ENJOY!

Chapter 19

Elena winced as Healer Varmont tightened her new set of bandages around her ribs. The old man smiled sympathetically, swiftly tying a knot. Healer Varmont was nice to have around because he never asked questions like "How on Earth did you manage to get all the way back here and not die?" The truth was, Elena had absolutely no idea how she had managed a full ride home on the back of a horse with the amount of injuries she had had. Healer Varmont had chalked it up to her brain simply refusing to process the pain or something equally as vague. How should he know? He wasn't the Maker. Erik had vaguely suggested that Dorian had something to do with it as it did seem to be a feat that only magic or a miracle could explain and, since miracles were in short supply where Elena was concerned, they had both been inclined to believe the former. When she had confronted the mage about it so that she might thank him for the mercy, he had been adamant that he lacked the necessary skills to do so. After all, he had told her, he was an accomplished necromancer, not a healer. Elena felt he was just embarrassed by his own kindness and so he was loath to admit to it. Cullen thought that this was all far too confusing and told her to just leave well-enough alone and be thankful for the "miracle" she had received.

Healer Varmont stepped back and asked her to perform her stretching exercises, watching her critically as she completed the twists and bends. "Well, it appears you are healing a bit faster than I originally expected." He told her in a calm voice, "You should be able to return to your normal duties much sooner. Push your arms further out, please."

Elena hissed as she pressed her arms farther away from her, pulling the muscles across her shoulder blades, "Do you know when that will be?"

Varmont shrugged, "No. It is hard to say… could be anywhere between seven to fourteen weeks." He turned at the sound of the arrival of another patient, "Ah, Darnellus, what have you done this time? My lady, you must excuse me. I will see you in the morning. Don't forget your night exercises and your medicine." He plunked a bottle of the noxious substance into her hand and bustled off to attend to Darnellus who was hopping on one foot towards a bed.

Elena stood and shook herself lightly, thankful to get out of the infirmary. It wasn't necessarily the worst place to be with the light smell of lavender and soap lingering about, and the gentle sounds of healers soothing their patients, but Elena found herself less inclined to small, darkened spaces with few windows as of late. As she stepped out into the sunlight of the new day she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. What a relief.

She turned towards the sparring grounds that Erik had constructed in the main courtyard recently. One man was leaning on the wooden rails, cajoling another into stepping into the ring with him. The second man reluctantly stepped inside and they began. Enviously she looked on, thinking about what she would do if she were fighting there. The second man was a strong defender, but he was slow with his attacks, though when he did land a blow against his opponent's shield the sound rang through the air like a bell. The first man had little stamina and was already showing signs of wear as his attacks became less powerful and quick. This would be the time for the second man to begin an offensive… There he goes. The second man stepped from behind his shield, parried a thrust, and maneuvered the blade from his opponent's grasp. The first man dropped his shield and yielded the fight.

"How do you think they're coming along?" Cullen asked, coming to a stop beside her and watching his soldiers shake each other's hands.

Elena started at his sudden arrival, "O-oh, they're both pretty good. They'd do well in battle, I think."

Cullen nodded, "That's what I train them for. How was the infirmary?"

"Slightly less painful today than yesterday."

"That's good news. You're healing." Elena grunted derisively, "Not quick enough for you, though?"

"No." She moved off, heading towards the battlements for a circuit in the breeze. Cullen followed her. He had been staying as close as he could since they had arrived back at Skyhold. He had carried her into the infirmary himself and hadn't left her side until she was able to fully walk about without assistance. Whenever his duties called him away Erik or one of her friends would come to replace him. If she had to be honest with herself, it was rather trying having to make small-talk with them all when all she really wanted was to be alone to sit against a merlon and feel the sun and wind on her face. She needed to breathe and process everything that had happened to her. Finding herself out of breath, she stopped climbing the stairs to the battlements and leaned against the stone railing.

Cullen stopped just below her and looked carefully into her face, "I know you don't want help, but you do look like you need it…" He offered gently, extending his arms to her.

Elena shook her head stubbornly, "I'm not an invalid. I can climb stairs by myself." She snapped at him, turning and mounting a few more steps to prove her point. She stopped again and looked at the interior lay-out of Skyhold. It was an attractively arranged fortress, using the natural rise and fall of the mountain top to enhance its fortifications. She took a deep breath and climbed the rest of the stairs, hearing Cullen's armor clanking gently behind her. To be fair, while she wanted to be alone, his presence wasn't wholly unwanted. It was rather comforting having him around, knowing he wrestled with similar feelings at times. Cullen was perhaps the only person she could possibly confide in about her inner struggles, but every time he caught her crying and asked about that time she would pull herself together and put on a brave face, quipping something about him being more worrisome than a nanny goat or the like. They came to a stop again, looking down this time at the settlements spread on either side of the river below them. The Inquisition had grown to be an immense force and she couldn't help but be proud of her small part in setting up the beginnings of the infrastructure that housed the larger portion of their troops and the refugees who flocked to the mountains for safety… Am I refugee or a soldier now?

"It's a beautiful day." Cullen said, resting his forearms on the wall and looking out over the settlements with her.

"It really is…." Elena replied, "Do you think we'll ever be done with this awkward small-talk or am I doomed to nothing but trivial conversations now?" She asked abruptly, turning to face him fully.

He looked at her and quirked an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Elena threw up her hands in exasperation, "All anyone ever wants to talk to me about is the weather or the people around us or what I'm wearing! Do you know how exhausting it is to be told 'it's nice weather out today' by yours friends! I'm not going to break in half if someone wants to have an actual conversation with me, you know!"

Cullen blinked at her, taken aback, "Elena… what're you talking about? We've tried to speak to you, but you don't really give us much to work with." He explained calmly, reaching for her hand, "We figured you'd speak to us when you were ready."

She jerked her hand away, "Sweet Maker! I've been speaking to everyone. I carried on a whole conversation with Reeves yesterday about the way Healer Varmont ties my bandages for Andraste's sake! And this morning Marston prattled on about his new axe the entire time we were walking to the infirmary. It's infuriating! Why can't everyone speak to me like you are now!?"

"I'm afraid I don't have the answer to that particular question."

"Well, why not?"

"Because I do not have the ability to hear people's thoughts." Cullen quipped, turning back to the scenery.

"You should. It would be helpful." Elena pouted.

"I think it would be more helpful to a person like Leliana." He teased gently. "Are you hungry? I haven't eaten all day…."

XXXXXXX

Elena looked into Samson's pallid, haggard face as he loomed above her. His ten-foot height dwarfed her as he closed in on her, a wicked red-black mist surrounding him ominously. He jabbed a finger down at her, pushing her onto her bottom. She found herself shrinking as she scooted farther away from him. He leered and pulled out a knife with a crooked, black blade. She dodged the jabbing stabs that he directed at her, feeling the knife catch in her clothes and tear them. Soon, she was wearing ribbons and running across an open field, tripping every time she looked back. Though she ran as fast as she could, she couldn't stop falling and Samson never stopped walking.

He finally caught her up in one massive fist, and he brought her close to his face. "I hope you still love me." Samson whispered, squeezing her tightly, "Say you love me. After all, you're just like me now."

Elena shrieked and bit into the finger closest to her face. Samson dropped her. She fell into a puddle. She looked down at her own, scared reflection but didn't see her face. Instead, she saw his face staring back up at her. She thrust her hands up and found them covered in black gauntlets. She panicked, noting the red chunks of Lyrium that stuck out from her chest plate and pauldrons. She back-pedaled away from Samson, only to find herself in a room filled with mirrors and surrounded by him on all sides.

He stuck his head around one of the mirror's frames, "You can't escape what you are." He cackled at her, stepping out and embracing her. Elena screamed in protest, twisting violently to get away from him—

"ELENA!" Her eyes jerked open to see Erik's concerned face hovering over her bed. The sheets were twisted about her tightly and the window was closed in her small bed chamber. She looked at him frantically, "Hold on, let me help." Erik loosened the bedclothes until she could sit upright again.

"Window, please." She breathed, clutching at her bandaged chest. Her injuries ached like she had just been hit with a stick. Erik obliged and opened the window, letting some crisp night air into the confined room. She immediately began to feel better. "I'm sorry I woke you."

Erik made a dismissive gesture, "You didn't wake me. Reeves did."

"Reeves?"

"Yeah, she said you were… oh, how did she phrase it? Ah! She said you were restless enough to wake the dead themselves.'" Erik shrugged, "She's got a flair for the dramatic, doesn't she?"

Thinking about the dream she was having, she wasn't so sure Reeves had exaggerated. "I wouldn't say that."

"Want to tell me about it?" Elena shook her head, "Let me rephrase. You caused Reeves to come pull me from Dorian's bed. You're going to tell me why. I like it there."

Elena shot him a withering look and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Do I really have to?"

"I'll have you put in the infirmary at night if you don't." Erik threatened softly coming to sit beside her. While his tone was gentle, Elena knew that disturbing his time with Dorian was something he would not appreciate happening more than once without an explanation.

"It was a nightmare about Samson… He said that I'm like him now. And then I turned into him." Erik was silent for a long moment. "It's stupid, I know." Elena added as the silence continued to stretch.

"I'm not good at interpreting dreams. Perhaps you should tell Solas about this…?"

"Solas?!"

Erik heaved a sigh, "Well, he is skilled in dreaming. He might have an insight into why you're plagued by the thought that you're like Samson. You aren't anything like him at all, you know."

Elena nodded, resting her head on her brother's shoulder, "I know. Last night I dreamt I was being chased by Templars who threw fire balls at me. They caught me and… that's when I woke up."

"Do you have nightmares every night?"

"More often than not these days."

"Shit, Lane, why didn't you tell anyone?" Erik turned and grasped her by the shoulders gently, moving so he was kneeling before her. He looked up into her face, clearly deeply worried, "We can get you dreamless sleep potions."

"I don't want them." Elena stated simply, "I've been through hell. That's not something I want to just sweep under the rug and ignore."

"I'm not saying ignore everything. I'm saying getting a good rest is better than this."

"No, thank you. I think… I think I need to be restless for a while. You wouldn't understand." She looked away from him at the night sky visible through the window. All she wanted right now was for him to go away.

Erik must have sensed what she wanted because he groaned and got up, "I'd like to try and understand, but I can tell you're not ready for that." He ran a hand over his hair and gave her an encouraging smile, "Are you going to be all right now?"

"Yes, you can go back to Dorian. Please, tell him I'm sorry I disturbed your… 'rest.'" Using her fingers she put quotation marks around the last word, waggling her eyebrows at Erik suggestively.

Erik blushed, and refused to meet her gaze, biting at his lower lip, "Yeah, well, it's nice to see you're starting to tease me again." He looked down at her and smiled, "Maker knows it's been too long since we've exchanged that kind of banter."

Elena gave him an innocent look. "Banter? Are you telling me you weren't resting when Reeves came to find you?"

Erik threw his hands up in a 'w' shape, "You'll never know…." He turned and left the room, closing the door with a gentle click. Elena waited a moment before getting out of bed. She carefully eased a pair of soft black leggings over her legs, wincing as she bent and her injuries protested. She paused, breathing deeply for several minutes before slipping her arms into the sleeves of her favorite pale blue shirt. This was also made difficult as her injuries protested this movement more strongly than the other ones. She stopped when it got to her elbows, biting her lips to keep from crying out. Steeling herself, she clenched her teeth and shrugged it the rest of the way up to her shoulders. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and laced up the front of the shirt to just above her breast band, leaving the ends of the strings hanging loose. She stood and slipped quietly from her room.

The night air was crisp and refreshing as she made her way carefully down the stairs to the garden. She passed through the middle of it, relishing the feel of the wet grass on her feet. She eased into the Great Hall. Across from her, next to the smoldering hearth, Varric sat in a chair, slumped over a pile of parchment, a quill dangling from one hand while he snored gently. Elena covered her mouth, stifling a giggle as she tip toed past him and into Solas's rotunda. The elf was awake and painting. He glanced at her quizzically, but didn't say anything as she waved at him on her way past. He lifted the paintbrush he was holding in recognition of her greeting and turned back to his work. Outside again she faced Cullen's tower and swallowed. She wiggled her toes on the stones of the walkway, suddenly nervous. What am I doing? Why did I come here? Even as she questioned herself, she started across the bridge. There are too many stairs in Skyhold. She grumbled as she carefully walked up the few steps to the door.

Opening it she found his tower to be darkened, unusual since he struggled with sleep more than she did and had done so for far longer. She could hear him snoring gently from the loft above her head. She eyed the ladder, her gaze sliding up from the stone floor the opening high above her head. That… might not be a good idea. She laid a hand on the smooth wood of the ladder, still considering climbing it. She gave up on the idea when she tried climbing a few rungs, but found it to be a painful experience. She went and sat in the chair behind his desk instead. She propped her bare feet up on the desk, gently pushing aside bits of parchment and listening to the gentle clack of ink bottles as they knocked into each other. In the dark room the noise seemed much louder than it was. She paused, listening to see if there was any disturbance in the sound of Cullen's snores. The only difference was now they were gone. She heard the rustle of sheets and the creak of the bed as he shifted around above her.

If Elena was being honest with herself, this was a rather strange situation for her to be in. She didn't really know why she was here beyond a general gut feeling of needing to be close to Cullen. It felt safer in the drafty tower than in her room above the garden. She settled her body more comfortably in the chair and waited for sleep to find her. It was difficult at first, the wind whistled through the tower at odd times, chilling her. The chair, while nicely padded, wasn't the most comfortable as it was hardly sat in. However, sleep did find her eventually. She was woken by Cullen's hands shaking her shoulders.

"Elena, what're you doing here?" He asked, bringing his face close to hers and peering into her eyes worried.

Elena scrubbed at her face with both hands, blearily taking in her surroundings. It had gotten brighter, but not much since she had drifted off, "What—what time is it?"

Cullen stood and squinted out of his window, "A couple of hours before dawn. Why are you in my chambers so early?" He repeated a little impatiently, "Did something happen?"

Elena reached out and grasped his hand, for once it wasn't gloved, and whispered "I had a bad dream. I couldn't go back to sleep so I came here to see if you were awake. You weren't and I didn't want to walk all the way back to my room, so I settled back down in this chair."

Cullen's eyes softened around the corners, "What kind of dream drives you from your bed to mine?"

Elena dropped his hand and stood up, turning her face so he wouldn't see her wince at the pain the sudden movement caused her stiff body, "Oh, it wasn't much. I—I just can't seem to go back to sleep once I wake up lately." She waved him off as he tried to grasp onto her shoulder, "It's really fine." She began to peruse his bookshelves, effectively changing the subject by pulling out a tome titled The Ferelden Stallion. She held it up, pointing to it with a gleeful smile, "What's this book doing here?" She had read it herself one night in Ostwick. A serving girl had lent it to her. She had blushed at the details contained within it as she sat curled in a chair near the hearth in her father's study.

Cullen became visibly uncomfortable and went to his dresser, tugging open drawers and pulling out items, "Oh. I—I— accidently picked that up thinking it was about horse— breeding."

Elena followed him, holding the book out before her with both hands, "But, you kept it in here. After the first paragraph surely you knew…"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I haven't read it and I don't plan to now."

Elena thought carefully, and decided to give it up. He obviously wasn't going to admit that he had read a romantic novel, "What're you doing today?" She set the book down on his dresser-top.

"I'm going to the War Room to discuss our next battle. We are going into the Arbor Wilds to a place called… what was it? Something Elven… I was always bad at Elven, you know. It's a beautiful language, but my tongue just can't seem to manage it." He stopped dressing and stood, hands on bare hips, tapping his foot trying to dredge up the name through sheer force of will. "Oh blast it all! It doesn't really matter." He slid his feet into his boots before lacing on his greaves. Elena rolled her eyes and watched as Cullen finished putting on his armor. The process was involved, but he managed it quite well alone. He did hold out his wrist for her to tighten his bracers again though. "It's always nice to have some help with this part." He explained as she tied the last knot. "Care for some breakfast?"

XXXXXXXX

Healer Varmont was not pleased when he saw Elena that morning after breakfast. He commented that she had the most atrocious coloring he had seen since her initial arrival. He tugged and prodded her body, checking her healing progress. He tutted at her and scolded her for not completing her exercises the previous night. Healer Varmont was the shrewdest and best healer the Inquisition had to offer, but being in high demand kept him from following his more willful patients as closely as he would have liked. Elena was particularly bad about listening to him, promising to do what he said, and then conveniently forgetting to follow instructions. She had always been this way, but Adrian had kept her from completely disregarding medical orders. He wasn't around either so Elena was able to freely forget, or possibly ignore, whatever medical orders she found particularly distasteful. Exercising and stretching her battered body was particularly distasteful as it was never comfortable or easy.

"Lady Trevelyan, I promise, if you don't start doing your exercises at night, I'm going to mandate that you sleep in the infirmary!" He clucked at her, tugging her arm a bit farther than was comfortable. Elena moaned as her muscles pulled and stretched against her bandages. "This wouldn't be so uncomfortable if you did as you were told."

Elena rolled her shoulder and glared at him, "It wouldn't be so uncomfortable if you'd lay another healing spell on me."

Healer Varmont raised a finger in a mother-knows-best mannerism, "Now, my lady, as I've told you before too many healing spells are bad for you. It is best to let your body do its own work. We took care of the worst damage with spells. The rest is up to you." He handed her a small knife, "Do you mind?" He turned to wash his hands.

Elena shook her head and sliced through the knot on her bandages before handing the knife back to him. He set it aside and unwound her bandages swiftly and with practiced ease. He hardly jostled her at all. As the bandages fell away from her ribcage, Elena watched his eyes for signs of what he was about to tell her. "I'm afraid you're a rather ugly color under all this. Yellow-green and gray just are not your season." He teased lightly as he ran a cool finger down her skin, pressing here and there to test the ribs underneath for weakness. "The good news is your broken ribs are doing much better and the cracked ones have settled down fine. These should be healed very soon."

She sighed, "That's what you've been telling me. I just don't think seven weeks is 'soon.'"

The healer pushed her shoulders back to a more square position, "Seven weeks is better than seven years, my dear." Elena focused on maintaining the stiff posture as Healer Varmont wound new bandages around her torso. He went slowly and carefully, setting the bandages just so on her body. He hummed while he worked. Next he moved to her arms, slicing through the bandages there with a decisive stroke. He changed the dressing on her arms, pausing to apply a new poultice to the cuts and burns left there. "These are healing nicely. I think by this time next week you won't need a poultice anymore." He smiled happily at her as he finished knotting the bandaged and motioned for her to stand, "Don't forget your exercises. I will see you in the morning." He waved her off and turned to his next patient.

Elena exited the infirmary and was almost immediately greeted by Marston. "Trevelyan! I'm glad to find you here. I trust your visit with Varmont went well? He didn't give you too hard of a time, did he?"

Elena shook her head, "Not anything more than I was expecting. How are you? You seem rather… chipper?"

Marston shrugged, "I suppose. I received a letter from my mother this morning." Elena raised her eyebrows, urging him to go on silently, "It… well, it was asking me to return home." He paused and looked at Elena's expectant face, searching it for clues as to her feelings on the matter, "So I just asked the Inquisitor to be released from duty."

"Oh." She said simply, moving off towards the main hall, thinking, "Why do you need to return home? If you don't mind my asking…." She brought a knuckle up to her mouth, sucking on it gently while she pondered this development.

Marston jammed his hands into his pockets and followed her, taking overly large and slow steps as he spoke, "I don't mind. My father needs me there to help out. He has contracted some lingering illness that is inhibiting him from working as much as he needs to provide for my family. As the only son, it's my obligation to pick up the slack, so to speak."

"How do you feel about that? I just mean, at first I thought you were happy, but now it doesn't sound exactly like that."

"Ah, well, I have mixed emotions on the matter. On the one hand, I'm glad to return home. I do miss my family. On the other… I enjoy being part of the Inquisition and your team. I'll miss the work and the people I've met here, for sure." He blew out a great puff of air. "I just… I wish I had a brother right now. Then, I wouldn't have to leave for such an indefinite amount of time."

"Having a brother isn't always the best." Elena teased as Erik dashed past them, shouting for the Iron Bull. "Watch it!" Erik turned half-way and blew her a kiss with a wink and a shouted apology.

Marston chuckled, watching the exchange, "You seem to be coming back to yourself more every day. That makes me feel better about leaving so soon after… well, you know." He finished lamely as they came to a stop at the mid-point up the stairs to the main hall. Skyhold spread out beneath them, cheerful in the bright sunlight. People milled around the market stalls near the stables, the smell of the leather and hay of the stables wafted up to them on the breeze. "I'm sorry. You're probably so tired of people bringing that up."

She shook her head, "It's fine. It happened. Ignoring it would be senseless. It's part of me so I had better learn to accept it." She sighed heavily and draped an arm around Marston's shoulders, leaning on him companionably. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

"Care to spend one more night with everyone at the Herald's Rest? I'll bribe Maryden to write you a song."

"Hmmm… now that does sound like a good time."

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed! Sorry again for the long wait! Thanks again for the continued love on this story of mine! Love you guys! I took a break from Chapter 20 to post this so expect that to come up here soon! -Danbamina