The keep was somber this evening. News of the tragedy had spread, and Cullen could see its effect rippling out in a wave of silence that descended on the hall like a shroud. Even the near constant sound of hammering seemed dulled by the oppressive silence that somehow wrapped around the very stone.
Cullen was upset, though he kept his face schooled to his usual calm expression. They had lost many good men, and he berated himself on his tactics. He replayed their plans over and over in his mind, looking for anything he might have missed. It was essential that he learn from these kind of mistakes.
In his heart, he knew that while it was their first real loss, it would likely not be their last. He had seen enough of battles to know how these things went. He could look upon such losses with detachment if it meant they could improve in the future, though it was a bitter pill to swallow. It was part of a soldier’s life, after all.
He suspected, however, that Ciara was not as practiced at dealing with defeat.
In the war room, her face had taken on the mask of coolness that she always wore. But he could see subtle differences in her. The way her shoulders had sagged at the news, the long breaths she kept taking to keep herself calm, the way her hand clenched the edge of the table. She kept up a brave face, but he knew firsthand the terrible toll that a real loss could take on one’s confidence.
He was pulled from his thoughts by Leliana, who had been walking beside him in silence down the length of the hall. “She is not taking this well.”
Cullen raised his eyebrows then smiled half-heartedly at her. “I should have known you would be able to see. You are a bard, after all.”
Leliana did not return his smile. Instead, she placed her hand on his arm. “Cullen, you need to speak with her.”
Cullen looked at her incredulously. “The woman can barely stand to be in the same room with me, Leliana. My presence would only upset her more.”
Leliana shook her head. “You have suffered losses such as this before. You have the experience and wisdom that she needs. It would be a greater blessing to her than empty words of comfort.”
Cullen looked at the door to the tower. “Perhaps you are right. I will…seek her out. Though…I doubt she will want to talk.”
Leliana smiled. “You may be surprised, Commander. Troubled times can summon even the strangest friendships.”
Cullen made his way up the tower steps, thinking how he should approach this situation. Since their last argument, he knew Ciara merely tolerated him. While she did seek his opinion in council, especially on military matters, their conversations outside of the war room were always stiff and formal.
He lingered for a moment outside of her private chambers. The woman within could be difficult at best and completely intractable at worst. Summoning up his courage, he knocked.
“Come in.”
Her voice was the same as always, soft yet commanding. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
She stood at her window, staring out against the blackened sky, her arms crossed against her chest. She still wore the simple black robes she had worn earlier, the symbol of the Inquisition stitched into the lapels in soft grey. She had removed her gloves and let her long hair down. The breeze from the window moved against her hair and robes, revealing her bare feet. Cullen thought fleetingly of Leliana’s ravens, perched and ready for flight.
Cullen cleared his throat. “Inquisitor, I…wish to…speak with you.”
She sighed and turned towards him. “As you wish, Commander.”
He cleared his throat again, suddenly nervous now that she was facing him. Her grey eyes looked at him coolly. “I know that today’s news must be difficult for you. I wanted to offer…if I may…some...advice.”
She arched her eyebrow at that. “Advice, Commander?”
He noticed her tone, which had taken on an edge of annoyance that seemed to be reserved for him alone. He ignored it and continued. “Yes, advice. I have some experience with this sort of…thing. I know how difficult it is to deal with tactical mistakes. I urge you to do your best to rally from this loss. You cannot let it consume you.”
She uncrossed her arms and glared at him. “Tactical mistake? Is that what you just said to me?”
Cullen persisted. “Yes, Inquisitor. Whatever the consequences, it was a tactical mistake. Something we must learn from to grow stronger. We cannot be defeated by such things.”
She clenched her jaw and fists at the same time. “Why not state your true intentions, Cullen.”
She practically hissed the final word, and it was not lost on him that this was the first time she had actually addressed him by his name. It sent a jolt of anger through him. He crossed his arms. “And what, pray, are my true intentions? You seem to know them better than I, after all, so please…enlighten me.”
She spit her words out at him. “You are here to make sure I am not writhing in self-pity…that I am not grieving or crying or doing any other untoward emotional activity that may make me susceptible to possession. That I am in control. That I am not, Maker forbid, acting like a human being!” She was practically shouting at him by the end, her bottom lip quivering in anger.
Cullen tried to interrupt. “I did not mean…”
She threw her hands up in frustration. “Damn you! Do you not think I know how to handle loss? You know nothing of what I have suffered in my life, nothing of the horrors I witnessed! I have lost everyone I have ever loved, few that there were, and each and every time I have been denied the solace of grief. Each time and every time, confronted with the temptation to bring them back, to be with them forever, I have stood firm.” She threw up her hands, beginning to pace. “You have no idea what it is like, Commander, no idea what it is like to be deprived of the very essence of your own humanity. I cannot even weep for their loss, as my suffering would signal weakness to the constant presence of the Fade.”
She thrust out her hand, the green glow illuminating her features. She looked for a moment like a demon herself, the green light pulsating against her face. “And now I am marked with it, a sign of my connection to it. Marked for all to see and fear…and despise me for it.”
She clenched her fist again, the green glow disappearing from the room. Her voice softened somewhat as she stared at her clenched hand. “What I would not give for a moments peace from the Fade. For just a moment to grieve and remember all that I have lost without fear that I may be too weak to recover from it.”
She looked up at him then, her eyes full of such a deep sadness that Cullen’s breath caught in his throat. “I am a prisoner, Templar. No Circle is necessary to bind me. I will always be a prisoner in this.” She swept her hands angrily down her body.
She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes. Cullen was silent for moment, watching as she tried to compose herself.
When he spoke, he was surprised at his own words. “I could give you that moment, Inquisitor.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him, her eyes suspicious. “What do you mean?”
Cullen moved towards her. She immediately stepped back and he stopped, raising his hands. “As you say, I am a Templar, Inquisitor, or…I was. I can sever your connection to the Fade momentarily. To give you…a moment of respite. Do you want me to try?”
She stepped back again. “You are asking my permission to…smite me?”
Cullen shook his head. “No. Well…sort of. The mage children that were brought to the tower…they were too young to control themselves and often needed my aid. Going to sleep, usually, was the most difficult for them. The sometimes required their connection severed for other reasons…when they were panicked or overwhelmed. I was…very good at helping them.” He looked at her for a moment, the realization hitting him. “No Templar ever did this for you?”
She shook her head. “Our Circle was…more brutal than that.” She shivered and dropped her eyes.
Cullen silently cursed, thinking of all that he saw in Kirkwall, of the pain that had finally tore the city apart. He knew too well the brutality against mages and it sickened him. His shame was ever present, and the woman before him was an embodiment of that shame.
Cullen spoke softly. “I am sorry, Inquisitor. Sorry for the things you must have endured there. I know that you see us all the same and I understand that. But I would never use violent methods against an innocent. No matter what you may think of me…I…I am no monster, Ciara.”
She looked up at him when she heard her name fall from his lips. He shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze, his face growing warm.
After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat. “I am sorry for troubling you, Inquisitor. My intentions were only to…”
“Is it…painful?” Her voice was curious, almost excited. “How long does it last?”
He looked back up at her, surprised at her eagerness. “It is not painful, but it can be…jarring. Especially if you have never been severed from the Fade before. And it lasts as long as I will it and as long as you do not fight it.”
She cocked her head a fraction and looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you need lyrium?”
He shook his head. “No...not for this. It is simple, as long as you…are willing.”
Her eyebrows drew down as she thought about it. “I…if you truly can…I would like that. For…a moment.”
He nodded and approached her slowly. “It will be easier if we are seated.”
She moved quickly to her bed. She sat down near the edge, folding one foot under her as the other dangled near the floor. He sat down beside her, slightly uncomfortable that it was her bed she had chosen.
He turned towards her. “Give me your hand.”
She looked down at his hand, her initial excitement abating as she realized this would involve him actually touching her. She looked up at him, the fear clear in her eyes.
He softened his voice. “I will not hurt you, Inquisitor.”
She looked at him for a long moment. He could see the indecision in her eyes.
He spoke again. “I ask for your trust.”
She chewed her bottom lip for a moment. Finally, she offered her hand to him. He gently held it, noting how it trembled. He placed his other hand over it to calm her.
Keeping his voice gentle, he spoke to her again as she stared up at him, her grey eyes wide with anticipation. “Do not fight me, Ciara. I only wish to bring you peace.”
He kept staring into her eyes as he let all the tension in his body release in one long breathe. Then, breathing in, he felt the pull of her magic around her. He could feel his chest expanding with it, could feel it draining off of her skin into his lungs. Deeper and deeper, he pulled her essence into him. He could feel the tingling sensation as her body tried to resist, but he continued to draw it from her, pulling it into his chest, through the pores of his skin.
Her eyes widened in wonder.
He continued to pull it through his body, could almost imagine tendrils of her aura creeping into his nostrils, dancing around his hairline, tickling his neck. He continued pulling it from her until he felt the end of it, the final wisps of her firmly settled against his body. He focused on it, wrapping those tendrils into a tight knot. He could feel it winding tighter and tighter into the core of his being. When he could tighten it no further, he focused on wrapping his own essence around it, binding it in place in the center of his chest, determined to hold it there for as long as she needed him to.
He watched her, waiting for her response.
She did not blink. He felt her hand try to withdraw from his, but he held on, desperate to keep her wrapped around him, in him, though him.
Finally, she blinked.
“Cullen?” She whispered his name, her voice frightened.
“I am here, Ciara. You are safe.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
Her lip trembled and a single tear slowly fell down her cheek. “I…feel…” She closed her eyes and took a long quavering intake of breath. Her throat worked and her eyes squeezed shut. When she exhaled, the sob that escaped her almost made Cullen lose his concentration.
But he held on, held on for her. She dropped her head and wept, the sound of her suffering terrible. Cullen knew that sound. He knew how necessary it was. He woke from sleep too many times and made that same sound in the darkness.
It was the call for all things lost, the song that was left when so little remained.
She leaned forward, and rested her face against his chest. He was shocked at first, his body immediately tensing up. When it became apparent that she was seeking comfort, comfort from him, he felt ashamed of his initial response. He moved one hand up to place it gently around her back, careful to keep his other wrapped around hers to maintain the focal point of their connection. He rubbed her back and she wept into his shoulder. He could smell the faint scent of lilac in her hair, and he pressed his nose against it to fill his lungs with the rest of her.
Not her magic, not her mana, just…her.
She continued to cry for a while longer, her sobs eventually tapering off. Yet she stayed pressed against him, her cheek against his chest.
After a while, her tears stopped completely and she was quiet. He expected her to pull away, embarrassed or angry. But she didn’t.
She stayed so still for such a long time that Cullen thought she may have fallen asleep.
Just as he was wondering what he should do, she spoke. Her voice was soft. “I had no idea.”
He was surprised by her words. She leaned back and he let his arm fall from her back, a tremor of regret passing through him at the loss of her warmth. She looked at him in wonder. “It…is so strange. To be…cut off in this way. To feel…the loneliness that you must feel. Without the connection to the Fade, I feel so…quiet. So…alone in my mind. Is that how you feel, Cullen? Alone?”
He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Her face was so close to his, her eyes so open and innocent. Part of him wanted to break their connection, to move away from her end what was, for him at least, and very intimate experience.
But the other part of him, the secret burning part that he could never put completely to rest, wanted to touch her face, to run his thumb along her lips.
Always the tactician, he chose the middle ground. He answered, his voice rough from the truth of his answer. “Yes, Ciara. I often feel alone.”
She reached up tenderly and touched his cheek. She smiled at him then, the first time he had ever been on the receiving end of one of her smiles. She was a breathtaking woman, and he felt his breath catch as he looked at her. Her eyes brimmed with a kindness he would have never associated with the fierce mage. Her voice retained its softness, but her eyebrows drew down, her lips pressing together. “What agony you must have known.”
He wasn’t sure how to respond. The knot in his chest was beginning to loosen and he could feel his concentration breaking. He tried to hold onto to it, to give her the time she needed, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as his chest began to fill with his own sadness.
She leaned back, seeming to sense how difficult this was becoming for him. She sighed and looked down at their hands. “Now…I think you must let me go, Commander.”
Cullen looked down at their hands. He nodded and then slowly began to unfurl the tightness in his chest, letting her essence flow from his body back to hers.
As he watched her eyes light up at the sensation of being whole again, he felt more empty than he had in many years.
Letting her go was much harder than he had anticipated.
Retour en haut
the base and substance remain the same so we still know what they are but they both got an overhaul of name and packaging lol. What could we call the Templars if they weren't templars?...... The Cullenites for DA4 
lol
We need words! More words! All the words! Words and bees for everyone!
).
. It's like bringing chocolate cupcakes to a kid's party...it really doesn't matter if they are a little underdone and the icing is bit melted. You can't lose! 
