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Chapter Text

She was awoken by the light streaming in through the cracks in his ceiling. Although, cracks was a bit of a generous term, as it was more of a giant hole. Cullen lay next to her, already awake, planting kisses along the back of her neck as he held her from behind. And though quite endeared, the Inquisitor cursed her lover for being such a morning person. Aislin, groaned, turning over in bed to face him. “Andraste’s arse, Cullen, when are you going to fix that bloody hole in the ceiling?”

He chuckled, and she could feel his chest rumble underneath where her hands rested on them. “I haven’t really put much thought into it, if I’m honest.”

“How could you not? I’m freezing in here.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “then allow me to warm you up.” He moved his hands to either side of her head and hovered over her, a playful smirk on his face that only she was privileged to see in moments like these. And she treasured it with all her heart. Aislin leaned up onto her elbows, bracing herself against the mattress as she pressed her lips against his. He met her halfway, sucking lightly on her lower lip before moving his head to press kisses along her jaw, the feel of his stubble rough against her skin.

The blanket slid down as Cullen shifted closer, and she shivered as her bare skin was exposed to the cold air. Cullen smiled against her skin and pressed himself closer, warm breath tickling her jaw. “Mm,” she hummed, tilting her head back and exposing the expanse of her neck as he moved to suck on the bruises he had made the night before. “You’re so warm. Is that a Ferelden thing?” She mused aloud.

He didn’t answer, choosing instead to move his hands to cup the sides of her face and press his forehead against hers. They locked eyes, and she gave him a heated stare as Cullen’s thumbs rubbed circles against her skin. They were both breathing heavily as they leaned close before a knock from the door in Cullen’s office area sounded through his quarters.

They both groaned simultaneously at the interruption. “It seems you are needed elsewhere, Commander,” she whispered huskily and Cullen groaned as he leaned up, exposing his bare chest and making Aislin silently lament that she would not be enjoying more of said chest this morning, but sadly, duty calls. For the both of them unfortunately.

The Inquisitor shifted across the bed, grabbing her clothes and undergarments from the night before and shrugging them on as she watched Cullen do the same with his armor. He was carefully putting on the layers in an efficient, specific order. She sighed, it was truly a shame that a man with such a nice build hid it beneath so many layers of armor, but she had to admit that she did enjoy having the view of his body all to herself.

Aislin stretched as she got out of bed, slipping on her boots and fixing her hair to make it look like she didn’t just spend a night in her lover’s bed. Varric would probably comment on it anyways though, she didn’t know why she even bothered. She shivered once more as she got out of the bed. The mornings at Skyhold were crisp, even moreso at this time of year as the winter season was coming. Although, in her mind, Ferelden was always in a perpetual snow. There were clouds outside this morning and some flurries were beginning to fall from the sky.

“Really, Cullen,” she sighed as she turned her attention back to the giant hole in the ceiling. “You truly should consider getting that fixed as soon as possible.”

The Commander, in full armor now and ready for the day, approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head atop hers. “It’s not nearly as bad as you’re making it appear,” he insisted.

“Cullen, it is quite literally snowing in here.”

His brows furrowed and he sighed as he glanced upwards. “So it would seem. Perhaps some repairs should be made after all.”

She rolled her eyes, although he could not see the action. “Good,” she said pointedly, then raised her left hand as a flurry fell into her palm. Aislin frowned as she looked at the snowflakes. They were darker than they should be, more grey than white and they were not melting when they touched the heat of her palm. “Strange,” she mumbled, as she studies the flakes, and Cullen peered from over her shoulder at what she was looking at. She was beginning to doubt the flakes in her hand were even snow at all. She picked up a flake onto the tip of her finger and touched it to her tongue, making a face at the bitter taste. Maker, that’s awful, she thought. It tastes just like.. Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her.

Cullen must have sensed something off as he moved in front of the Inquisitor. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern etching his brow.

Aislin grasped his forearms, panic, clear in her eyes. “Cullen, rally your troops. Now.”

“What?”

“There’s no time, Cullen! You have to sound the bell, gather them in the courtyard. I will meet you out there.”

“What? Hold on a – “ But she was already moving past him. “Aislin!” The Commander moved in front of her, worried, hands moving to cup her face and get her to look at him instead of the skittish way they were moving about the room. “Look at me,” he implored. “I need you to explain what’s happening before I make any orders”

“The snow,” she paused, catching her breath before shaking her head at his puzzled look, “it’s not snow. It’s ash, Cullen. Don’t you see? We’re about to be attacked.” Cullen’s eyes widened as her words finally began to make sense and the pieces began to click into place. He swore under his breath and she pulled away from his grasp and slid down the ladder, the Commander following after.

“Who would attack Skyhold?” He asked, frantic as he followed behind her, answering the door to the messenger and barking the order to ring the bells signaling an attack. If the Inquisitor was right.. But surely no army would be fool enough to attack the fortress, even Corypheus knew better than attacking Skyhold directly. It was too well fortified, their army too strong.

Aislin shook her head. “It’s not who,” she spoke, “it’s what.”

The Commander looked at her, thrown off by her cryptic words before the roar of a dragon sounded through the mountains. 

Chapter Text

“Commander!” Scout Harding rushed in through the doors as Cullen sent the messenger off.

“Harding,” the Inquisitor addressed, “Report.”

“Aside from the obvious, the dragon attacked the Eastern walls. There have been several breaches in our defenses and Drakes have begun storming the Keep both from above and from the collapsed fortifications.”

Aislin pinched the bridge of her nose. This was bad. Real bad.

“Evacuate the Inquisition’s people to the main hall, I want anyone who can fight to be defending anyone who cannot until the defenseless are out of harm’s way. New recruits should be sent to the main halls as well. I do not want to see a trainee out there fighting.”

“Place archers along the walls,” Cullen pitched in. “I want their arrows pointed at anything coming in from above. Open up the armory for our soldiers, use the cache of weapons for war, not the ones we use for training.”

“There’s a small problem, sir —”

“What is it?” He snapped, tone clipped. He had not the time nor patience for this when there was a bloody dragon attacking their stronghold.

“The drakes and wyverns are blocking our path to the armory. We need soldiers to clear a path before we can arm our men.”

“Then let’s get to it, Commander,” the Inquisitor cut in. Harding promptly cleared out with orders from the Commander to assist anyone trying to get to the main halls of Skyhold. Before Aislin could move to follow however, Cullen grabbed her arm.

“Aislin – just a moment.”

“Cullen, we don’t have a moment,” she hissed, turning to face him.

“Your sword and armor are in the armory, too.”

“Well I can’t just stay here while you and your men clear a path. I need to be out there too.”

The ex-templar paused, his grip momentarily tightening where it held her arm. He did not want to send her out there, but this was not an argument he could win nor did he have the time to argue. His lips pursed into a thin line before he let out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” was all he managed to say although his eyes said he was everything but. Reaching behind himself, he retrieved the shield strapped to his back and held it in both hands and though he knew it was all in his head, the weight of the object had never felt heavier. “Take this,” he spoke, his voice soft. “If you insist on going out there, then be the shield at my side.”

Aislin gazed up at him, an unguarded expression on her face. She was asking a lot of him by insisting on going out there unarmed, but he knew as well as she that the Inquisitor needed to be seen defending her stronghold alongside her men. She grabbed the shield from his hands, testing the weight on one arm. “This is a good shield,” she hummed as she stepped aside to swing her arm. “I could bash a skull good with this.” And Cullen was half-tempted to point out that shields were meant for defensive use not as a weapon, but managed to refrain for now.

“Then let us be on our way,” was all he said instead before swinging the heavy wooden door open.

- - -

The sky was grey with the color of ash from the dragon’s fire. The Herald looked up as a mighty roar shook the walls of Skyhold and the dragon swept towards them from above. Its jaws lit up with flame as it released a breath of fire down a path in the courtyard.

All was chaos as the people of Skyhold frantically made their way into the main halls of the Keep. There was screaming and yelling, orders being made left and right. The main doors were open with Josephine standing at the front and managing the flood of people. From her position on the wall, she could see Bull and his Chargers holding off the wyverns and drakes from the main halls so the people could safely make their way in.

Over towards the Eastern walls, the wyverns and drakes poured in by the dozens, flooding the courtyard and making an approach to the armory that much more difficult.

The ground shook below her as the dragon let out a call from above. “Stay behind me while I clear a path,” Cullen ordered. “You are vulnerable without your armor so do try to be careful.”

“Cullen, there’s a dragon attacking us,” she commented as she leapt over the stone wall and to the base of the stairs that lead to the courtyard. She looked up to where Cullen was leaning over the wall looking down at her incredulously. “I don’t think ‘careful’ particularly applies to this situation.” And with those words, she charged like a Bronto shield first into the fray, hitting a drake head on and slamming down the bottom of the shield into its head as it hit the ground.

“I did say ‘try’, did I not?” Cullen mumbled aloud as he followed down after her, although the Inquisitor was too far away and too preoccupied to hear it.

- - -

They stood side by side as they fought, as if they were one entity. Cullen, with his sword in his right hand, and the Inquisitor, with his shield in her left, moving with a unity and fluidity that allowed them to tear down the enemies one by one.

As she bashed the drakes with her shield and deflected blows meant for him, the Commander used the advantage to take down the staggered beasts. Their time training together paid off for Cullen knew where she was going to move before she did it, and she him. They worked well as a pair.

“Watch out!” He heard her panicked voice and turned a split-second too late as a wyvern approached from behind, teeth like daggers with venom dripping from its mandibles.

He moved his sword to parry as best he could, but it need not be necessary for the next thing he knew, he could no longer see the beast due to the woman blocking it from him.

“Urgh!” She grunted as she bore the brunt of the attack and dug her feet into the ground. The shield was tilted slightly to prevent the poison from spraying either of them in the face. She quickly recovered from the attack and took advantage of the fact that the wyvern was staggered from hitting her shield head on. Ramming the shield into its side, Cullen marveled at the Herald’s ability to use a shield as an offensive weapon that could take down such a large beast.

The creature collapsed to the ground from her attack and the Commander wasted no time in rushing forward and burying his sword through the bright colors of its scales.

- - -

“Imagine all of the fine leathers and armors the Inquisition will have when this is over,” the Inquisitor mused as she put on her chest plate, a sense of comfort enveloping her at the familiar weight over her. “Josephine will have an aneurysm with all the luxurious leather furniture we’ll in Skyhold.”

The Commander only made a small sound of acknowledgment to her words. He was half-listening, but the rest of his attention was on the other troops hurriedly strapping on their armor. They had successfully managed to clear a path to the armory and the Herald was all too glad to put on her armor and grab her Claymore and Cullen was all too glad to have armed troops to send back out there.

“I want that dragon’s head to be displayed over my future drakescale throne.” She declared proudly. “Madame Snippy Snips will have nothing on the Inquisition.”

“You’ll need to cut the beast’s head off first.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I will.” She stated so firmly that Cullen’s eyes were drawn to her once more. In full armor she was all the more menacing, every bit the leader that the Inquisition needed her to be. The Commander pushed himself off of the wall, they needed to be heading back out there and he was about to say as much before something caught his eye.

Her over-clothes lay on a pile behind her, likely too restricting for her to continue wearing under her armor. It was not that though that concerned him. It was the blood staining them that worried him most.

“Maker, Aislin, you’re hurt!” He spoke, startled – angry as he rushed forward and set his hands on her shoulders. How had he not noticed?

She gave him a sheepish smile and had the decency to look at least a little guilty at keeping it from him. “I feel fine, Cullen. Just a scratch,” she insisted and Cullen thought back to when she could have possibly gotten hit without him seeing it. His eyes widened as the realization dawned on him and his hands dropped from her shoulders.

“The wyvern,” the words passed through his lips breathlessly and he felt a pang of guilt because she had been protecting him. She was unarmed and unarmored and she had taken a blow for him. His carelessness had caused this.

“Cullen, look at me,” Aislin moved forward, her gaze holding his steady. “I can still fight.”

“But we have to –!”

“We have to get our people to the main halls of the Keep where they’ll be safe first. After that, we will be given ample opportunity to go and lick our wounds.”

He wanted to argue with her. He wanted to demand that she head straight for the Keep to get the wound looked after before the wyvern’s venom spread any further. That was what he would have ordered any injured soldier to do in this situation, but Aislin Trevelyan was no ordinary soldier and Cullen was in no position to be making selfish demands. “You are right, Inquisitor,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The battle had hardly begun and it was already taking its toll on them.

“Good.” She declared triumphantly, voice with its usual lighthearted lilt that made Cullen feel as if he truly could face against the world with her at his side. She hoisted her sword across her shoulders as she gazed up at him and sent him a bright, confident smile that promised victory on the horizon. “Now let’s go kill shit.”

Chapter Text

They stood braced behind the doors of the armory, a scout standing at ready to let waves of armed soldiers out into the fray. They couldn’t leave the doors open for too long should the drakes make their way into armory or cut off the flow of troops in and out.

“Ready for this?” The Inquisitor spoke to the Commander as they prepared for the scouts to swing the heavy doors and close it behind them. Her wound stung in her abdomen, but she gave no indication of it on her face. It could wait.

“Let’s get on with it,” he spoke, a steel edge to his voice. Cullen was restless to get out there and take back their fortress. At his signal, the scouts swung the doors wide and the two charged forward side by side into the fray.

There were even more drakes and dragonlings than before filling in the courtyard and Aislin wasted no time in tearing them down two at a time. She swung her sword in a mighty arc, a drake getting caught in the path of her blade and knocking down its brothers along the way. She gave them no time to recover, however, as she quickly followed up with a series of lunges and slashes.

“Nice to see you on the front lines, Boss!” Iron Bull’s voice carried over to her from beside and she chanced a glance over to him to see him and Chargers a little banged up but no worse for wear. If anything, they seemed invigorated by the thrill of battle and she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel similarly.

“What’s the status, Bull?” she called as she turned her attentions to the battle raging once more.

“All the civilians are inside the Keep. My boys cleared a path, so all’s left is to clear them out one by one.”

“Sounds like a plan, get to it, Bull,” she ordered as she struck down a dragonling. They were taking them down swiftly, preventing any invading beasts from advancing. And slowly but surely, the courtyard was filled with more soldiers than dragonkin. However, just when they were beginning to get the field advantage, more of the beasts began flooding in through their broken defenses on the Eastern walls. “Damn,” Aislin swore under her breath, but wasted no time in clearing the path once more, grimacing as a swing tugged on her wound painfully.

From the armory, Cullen’s men maneuvered towards the walls to meet the creatures before they could advance any further into Skyhold. From her vantage point, it was clear they would set up a good fortification to keep the enemy back and she was certain it would work. However, the roar of a dragon caused the ground to quake once more and she immediately knew that this wouldn’t be nearly as simple as she had hoped. The creature grew larger in the distance as it neared Skyhold once more and Cullen’s men would need to get out of there now if they had any hope of getting out of there alive.

“Commander!” The Inquisitor yelled, and she could see the understanding in Cullen’s eyes as he raised his sword and shield and issued a full retreat. The men began to pull back, but they were being overwhelmed by the invading forces and the window of opportunity for them to make a full retreat was growing smaller as the Frostback neared Skyhold once more, fire lighting up its jaws. They won’t make it, Aislin thought with a panic.

She had no time to think as she moved forward and past the retreating soldiers. As if on instinct, her right hand began to glow and she lifted it, filling the area with her light. The enemies were held in place and quickly fell one after another as her mark did its work and Cullen’s men retreated towards the Keep.

The dragon above neared, as if drawn in by the mark. And dignity be damned, Aislin turned and ran for her life as a fireball was aimed directly towards her. She felt a blast knock her back and her mind blacked out for a second as it slammed against the ground, feeling the fire lance up her leg. “Urgh!” She grunted as she scrambled to get back on her feet. After all, a Frostback rarely shot just one fireball at a time. The pain had yet to register, adrenaline still flowing through her body in her rush to get out of the line of fire. Literally.

“I got you, Boss,” Iron Bull’s voice sounded from her side as he moved her arm to his shoulder to provide some support for her to lean on.

“Thanks, Bull,” she said as they hobbled forward together towards the steps leading up to the main hall. And damn, she hated stairs right now. Aislin snuck a glance towards her left leg for the first time and grimaced at the sight. The dragon’s fire had melted through her armor and she knew that would be a bitch to take care of once they were inside. Her sword hung from her left hand and it never felt heavier than it did in that moment, but she held it in a white-knuckled grip, refusing to let go. Her head was beginning to feel light from the wyvern poison coursing through her body. She wasn’t lying when she told Cullen it was just a surface wound, but wyvern poison was tricky like that. It worked its way into her bloodstream nonetheless and she could feel that she was bleeding from her abdomen more than she was earlier. Bloody hell, she thought.

“Aislin!” A familiar voice drew her attention back to the situation at hand. “Are you alright?” Cullen’s concerned voice ran over her like a soothing balm as he moved to support her other side and they began to move more efficiently up the steps. So many damned steps, she thought. And whose idea was that?

“Fine,” she hissed through gritted teeth towards Cullen. “Just dandy.”

When they reached the top of the steps, Josephine was at the doors quickly herding them inside. “There’s no time!” Her panicked voice ordered them as she waved them in. Soon, they were in the main halls and Aislin turned to watch the doors close behind them.

She watched as the Frostback landed on the walls of their fortress. Its talons seeking purchase in the stone and its wings beating the rubble around. It let out a roar and more of its kin flooded inside as it let out a breath of fire that tore down one of their watchtowers.

The doors finally closed, cutting off the scene in an abrupt end and an empty silence was the only sound that followed.  

Chapter Text

 “Maker's balls, Vivienne,” Aislin swore at the woman before her.

“Language, darling,” Vivienne scolded and the Inquisitor could only manage a small shrug of disinterest. Moving her shoulders tugged on the wound of her abdomen uncomfortably, although the pain was minimal by this point since Vivienne had given her the wyvern's anti-venom almost as soon as they began treating her wounds.

“I apologize, Madame de Fer,” she began, her voice taking on a mockingly dignified tone, “if my manner of speech is slightly inappropriate due to the damned bloody mess my leg has become!” She felt the arm around her shoulders tighten and placed a comforting hand on it as a reassurance. Cullen sat behind her, supporting her whilst Vivienne took care of the Inquisitor's wounds, a task which was not so easily done as the Herald was fidgeting and swearing her way through the healing session. Both figures in the room, however, were taking it in stride and seemed unaffected by her tirade and movements.

The Inquisitor turned her head slightly to look at the Commander. There was a furrow in his brow that had not left since they entered the Keep, and a frown pulling down on the scar on his upper lip that Aislin wanted to smooth out with her hand if it weren't so busy clenching onto Cullen's for dear life. Still, she hated to see him worry over her like this, so Aislin mustered a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his worries. “Really, Cullen, relax. It's not so ba – damn it, Vivienne,” she hissed as she threw her head back onto the Commander's shoulder. She felt his hold on her tighten once more, even as he huffed out a pained laugh against the crook of her neck where he rested his chin.

“You're not being nearly as reassuring as you think you are, love,” he whispered against her neck.

“Noted,” she sighed, her shoulders drooping and her strength leaving her. The sound of footsteps echoed in her quarters and a messenger appeared in the doorway.

“Commander,” the man addressed. “I was sent to fetch you.”

“If I recall correctly,” he snarled. “I do remember giving orders not to be disturbed,” the Commander narrowed his eyes at the messenger, who shrunk slightly at the heat of his glare. It was moments like these that the Inquisitor truly understood why he was called the “Lion of Skyhold.” Maker, she would hate to be under the scrutiny of that glare.

The messenger bowed in apology. “I understand, Ser, but it is quite urgent,” he insisted.

“I said – “

“Cullen,” Aislin interrupted, craning her neck to look at him. “Go, I'll be alright here.”
“I'm not leaving you.”

“It's fine,” she insisted. “Vivienne has this under control. Your men need you.” Cullen looked at her, his expression torn. She could see the struggle he was going through written plainly on his face as he looked between her and the scout. “Go,” she mouthed at him, and the arm around her tightened once more before letting go entirely.

“I'll be back soon,” he promised. “And if you need anything at all just --”

“I know, Cullen,” she smiled reassuringly and he managed a small smile of his own before he placed a kiss on her forehead and got out of the bed from behind her.

She watched him as he placed his chest plate back on, shrugging on his cloak and stepping into his boots – becoming Commander Cullen once more. “Lead the way,” he said to the scout, and the two headed out the doors of her quarters, but not before Cullen snuck one last glance at her to which she managed a small wave.

Silence fell upon the room, with just her and Vivienne the only two occupying. The mage was the first to break the silence however. “Are you quite sure about this, dear?” The woman asked, her face remained as cool and stoic as always but Trevelyan could see the slight worry in her eyes. “We have yet to address the worst of your injuries,” she pointed out.

“I know,” she spoke, her voice soft. “I'd rather he wasn't here to see what's to come. How bad is it, Viv?”

Vivienne fixed her with a sympathetic look. She disagreed with the Herald, the Commander was a strong fellow and would provide immeasurable support. But, she supposed, that was not her decision to make, and she respected the Inquisitor's choice to decide for herself, even if she disagreed. “The healing salves Dorian mixed up for us earlier are doing their job quite nicely. Your burns will be of little concern by nightfall, Lady Herald,” she explained.

“But.. “ Aislin edged on.

“But it appears there was a major blood vessel torn when the fireball hit you that is not clotting properly because of the burns and wyvern poison.. Aislin,” she paused. And the Inquisitor couldn't help the Oh shit that came to her mind because things must be bad if Vivienne was using her given name. “We will have to cauterize the wound.”

“Is the answer to healing a burn wound really more fire?” Aislin whined.

Vivienne waved her off with a flippant hand, tone lighter to ease some of the tension in the room, but only serving to make her more nervous. “Don't be silly, my dear. Fire is such a barbaric method.” The mage lifted up one hand, sparks flying from her fingertips. “Electricity is far more efficient.”

Aislin threw her head back and let out a groan. Maker, this was going to hurt.

- - -

“Is there anything else?” Cullen asked the soldiers before him. They were currently in Josephine's office, discussing the lyrium concerns that had come up. All of the residents at Skyhold were currently trapped inside the Keep whilst the dragon laid siege to the fortress. Their troops couldn't get very far past the main doors before they were quickly overwhelmed by dragonlings, so reaching places such as the infirmary and their lyrium caches was near impossible. On top of that, all supply lines were currently cut off until their little dragon problem was dealt with and their troops were not going to be leaving the main halls of Skyhold until there was a clear plan on how to deal with the Frostback attacking the Inquisition. While at the moment the lyrium was not a huge concern, the more time that they were trapped inside the Keep, the more of a threat lyrium withdrawal posed amongst their ranks.

As much as he despised being taken away from the Inquisitor at such a crucial time, even he recognized the importance of this.

“No, ser. Thank you, ser,” his lieutenant spoke up among the men and women that had gathered in Josephine's office.

“Very well. Send someone to the Smith and have our arcanist mix up some lyrium potions from whatever supplies we have. I'll talk with the Grand Enchanter Fiona and see if the mages would be willing to part with some of their own supplies. You are dismissed.” His troops quickly filed out of the rooms, and Cullen followed soon after.

The Main Hall was crowded, filled with refugees from the attacks on their fortress. Other than some distress on the part of their citizens and some complaints of inconvenience on the part of their nobility, Josephine had been efficiently managing and delegating the Keep's people. A feat that very few in Thedas could ever successfully accomplish.

The Commander walked by the large groups of people, spotting Cole perched up on a table by himself. It seemed as if the people in the halls were wary of the spirit and steering clear for there was an empty area in the crowded Keep where the spirit was residing. He couldn't say he blamed them for avoiding Cole, but it was of no concern to him, Cullen had other issues to focus on and places he needed to be. However, he paused mid-step as the voice of the spirit drifted over to him.

“.. Bloody hurts.. “ He was curled up on his little perch, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, hat covering his eyes. Two hands were cradled around his calf, rubbing the area in slow circles, and the Commander was more than a little unnerved by the sight. “Screaming, pain. Hold it back or they will hear me. He will hear me. Can't. Maker, when will this end? Pain, blinding. I can't.” Cullen's eyes widened in realization as he realized just who it was that Cole was channeling at the moment. He didn't think just moved, his steps carrying him forward, one foot after another towards the familiar door of her quarters. “I can't. So much pain .. Screaming. It's too much.. I can't I – Darkness.” That was the last Cullen heard as he slammed the door to her quarters behind him, desperate to see the Inquisitor with his own eyes before the fear ate him alive.

- - -

“What is going on?!” The Commander practically shouted as he rushed into the room, heading straight for the Inquisitor's side. Aislin was passed out on the bed, a cold sweat forming on her brow and pure exhaustion written across her features. He placed a hand on her sweat-soaked hair and gently brushed it back, trying to reassure himself that she was alright. Whatever had happened, she was alright.

“Thank the Maker you're here,” Cassandra spoke, and Cullen hadn't even realized she was in the room. He was about to ask why the Seeker was here, but before he could even get the words out she raised a hand and spoke up first. “Vivienne needed someone to hold her down while she cauterized the wound.”

The Commander's head snapped towards Vivienne, intense and angry. “If she needed help, you should have called for me.” And Maker, he hadn't thought her injury nearly that bad, although Aislin was a professional at downplaying her wounds. He couldn't imagine how painful it must have been. They were cut off from their infirmary, so it must have been a gruesome patch job for sure.

“That was her decision, not mine,” Vivienne spoke with a pointed look at the figure on the bed, still shaking from the electric currents the Knight Enchanter had used on her. And she knew she was throwing the Inquisitor to the wolves by saying that, but the mage was not equipped to be the target of the Commander's ire at the moment. She was exhausted, her mana drained and pushed to its limits. She needed rest as surely as the Inquisitor herself did.

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course it was, he thought bitterly. He sank down into the chair beside the bed and grabbed her limp hand in his own, massaging small circles in her palm as he stroked her hair. “Go,” he whispered, voice hoarse and broking no room for discussion. “I'll take it from here.”

“Very well,” Vivienne replied. “If her condition changes at all, send for Dorian or myself. She'll likely need help changing the bandages tomorrow, but the wound should heal much faster now with a few more healing sessions.” Cullen nodded absently, his eyes never leaving the Inquisitor's. He heard the sound of heels echo and fade in the hall as the Knight Enchanter retreated to her own quarters, likely to get some rest herself.

“Trevelyan will be just fine, Commander,” Cassandra's voice sounded from behind him, startling him as he had forgotten the Seeker was even in the room. “The worst of it is over, and she will be fine,” she repeated.

“I should have been here.”

“She did not want you to.” And Maker, those words stung more than she realized. Cassandra placed a comforting hand on Cullen's shoulder. “You are here now, that is what matters,” she assured before turning away and leaving him alone with the Inquisitor.

- - -

Cullen was unsure of how much time had passed. The sun had long gone down and the roar of the dragon had quieted (though that was not nearly as reassuring as one would think it is). There was a candle beside the nightstand, wick burning low and dim and casting a soft light upon the Inquisitor's face.

He had been so lost in his own thoughts that at first he had assumed he had simply imagined it when he felt the hand cradled between his own twitch. However, another twitch soon followed and Cullen's head snapped up to where his lover lay.

She opened her eyes slowly, finding it much harder to do than she realized, but soon they were focusing on the form of one ex-templar, lit by the light of a single candle. “Hey,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Good evening,” he addressed, a shaky smile forming on his lips as he pressed a kiss to her hand.

Silence fell between them, Aislin, far too exhausted to say much and Cullen, far too relieved to think about anything other than the fact that she was finally awake.

“It's so peaceful here,” The Inquisitor commented, breaking the silence. “Almost feels like there isn't a dragon outside trying to eat us.” She smiled and Cullen huffed a small laugh in response, but his expression soon grew serious.

“You should have sent for me,” he lectured.

Aislin groaned. “Ugh, Cullen, I just got struck by several bolts of lightning,” a bit of an exaggeration but the point remained. “Can you please yell at me in the morning?” She tried not to make her tone sound like she was pleading, but... well, she was pleading.

Cullen sighed and let go of the her hand. At first, Aislin panicked, thinking she said the wrong thing as he stood up from his chair, but her worries were soothed as he simply shrugged off his cloak to drape it over the chair and piled his armor onto the stone tiles beside her bed.

“Very well,” he amended, moving around the bed to lie beside her. “How about we both rest tonight, and I'll lecture you in the morning?” He wrapped her up in his arms, gently so as not to disturb any injuries, and buried his face in her hair.

“That is the sexiest thing you've ever said to me.” She smiled against his chest, and closed her eyes. She dreaded the morning for Cullen would surely chew her out tomorrow, and there was that whole pesky dragon business to contend with. But for now, she would take solace in the arms around her and let sleep take her. 

Chapter Text

She woke up to the light streaming in through the windows and a pair of arms encircled around her chest. They held her tightly, protectively. One arm across her shoulders and the other just below her breasts so as not to aggravate the wound just a smidge lower.

Cullen needn’t have bothered, however, for the wound on her abdomen was nearly healed since Vivienne’s antidote and healing had taken care of the worst of the injury so that it was barely a minor irritant. Her leg though felt like it had been put through the wringer. It felt hot as it throbbed painfully, no doubt needing more of Dorian’s salve soon enough, but she was grateful for the fact that it was feeling much better than yesterday. A few more days and healing sessions between the two mages and she knew she would be good to go. Not at one hundred percent certainly, but good enough to be useful on the battlefield once more.

Just a few more days. Sooner, if the inquisition had need of her once more with dealing with the dragon. But, she didn’t want to think about that at the moment, instead much preferring to stay in her lover’s arms for a while.

She couldn’t tell if Cullen was yet awake, was somewhat hoping he wasn’t. For one, the Commander hardly got enough sleep as it was, and would hardly get any more with what was to come, she wanted him to get any reprieve he could.

Not to mention that the Commander was pissed. With Aislin in particular. He had been gracious enough to leave that little conversation until the morning, however, now it was morning and the Inquisitor wanted nothing more than to put off that conversation for as long as possible. So she closed her eyes and sank into the arms wrapped around her in an attempt to avoid the issue.

“I know you’re awake,” a husky voice whispered against her neck, tickling the hairs along her nape. Evidently, it would appear she could not avoid the issue for long.

She turned slowly in the arms that held her and looked up sheepishly at the man. “Good morning, Commander,” she greeted with a small smile, her voice still tinged with sleep.

Cullen leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I would prefer it if you didn’t call me ‘Commander’ while we’re both lying in bed together.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she hummed, reaching up to press slow kisses along Cullen’s jaw. “I think a little power play in bed can be very healthy for young couples.” She smiled against his neck as she could feel his chest shake with a chuckle.

In lieu of replying, the Commander pulled back to look her over. “How are you feeling?” He asked her instead, his brow knitting forward in concern. And ah, there it was, Aislin thought. Not even awake five minutes and the ex-templar’s worries were already showing on his features.

Reaching a hand up to his face, Aislin smoothed the crease that had formed between Cullen’s brows and smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine, love,” she spoke softly. “Now quit worrying. It adds years to your complexion.”

Cullen just rolled his eyes. “Ah, we can’t have that, can we?”

“Absolutely not,” she declared. “What would the dignitaries think if they caught the Inquisition’s Commander with frown lines?”

The Commander sighed as his arms loosened their hold around her and he sat up in bed. “Maybe then I would stop getting so many proposals for marriage.” He made a face at that – the nobility of Orlais could certainly be relentless when they wanted something. Or someone. But it mattered little to him as he had all he needed right here. He reached down and brushed his thumb across Aislin’s cheek affectionately, calloused thumb rubbing slow circles against her skin. “Now, if you would quit trying to change the subject, I believe there’s something that we need to discuss.”

Aislin groaned and lifted the covers over her head. “Ugh, Cullen, you can’t just let me have this,  can you?”

“Absolutely not,” he replied immediately. “Otherwise you’ll just do it again.”

The Inquisitor’s head popped out from under the covers like a nug leaving its burrow and she frowned up at him. “I won’t!” She protested, to which Cullen only fixed her with a doubtful look.

“You will,” he said certainly, sadly. “And, Maker, Aislin, I wish I knew why.”

Aislin sat up in the bed slowly, the covers pooling around her waist. “It’s not that I didn’t want you there, Cullen, but Vivienne did a number on me. I mean, she did what she could with what we had, but I just – I didn’t want you to see me like that,” she looked into his eyes earnestly, imploring him to understand.

“Like what? In pain? Vulnerable? Weak?”

She didn’t say anything, but her eyes turning away from his own told him that he had hit the nail on the head, and Cullen wanted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

“That’s your reason?” He said and he leaned in close, noting how tense the woman was before him. He cupped her cheeks between both hands, cradling her face and pressing his forehead against her own. “Aislin, you have seen me at my worst, my lowest, and you have been there every step of the way. I wish you would let me in so I could be there for you as you were for me.”

She turned her face into the palm of his hand and looked up into his eyes, unusually vulnerable in a way Cullen hadn’t seen before. “You’re so strong,” she commented. “And you have many burdens weighing on your own shoulders. I don’t want to be yet another.” And Cullen began to wonder what had happened in the woman’s past that made her even think for a second that she was a burden on anyone when she had saved them (and him) all.

“Aislin Trevelyan,” Cullen spoke soft yet stern, drawing her eyes back up to his own. “I love you. You are my.. “ He paused for a moment, faltering, before shaking his resolve once more. “I love you,” he repeated, causing Aislin to smile and raise a single brow in amusement. He gave her a pointed look as if to say, Shut up, I’m trying to make a point here. And the Inquisitor gave him his moment, choosing for once to refrain from her snarky retorts that she brandished as both a weapon and a shield. He cleared his throat nervously before going on. “You mean the world to me. All of you.” Even the weakest parts of you, he whispered against her neck as he leaned in to kiss her.

Aislin shivered, saying nothing. She wasn’t sure if she could without her voice shaking or cracking embarrassingly. So instead, she put all of her emotions into the kiss, pulling Cullen back down to the mattress with her and shoving her tongue into his mouth. He hovered over her and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he lowered himself down, kissing and nipping along her jawline. She moaned at the feeling of his warm lips along her cool skin, sending shivers along her body as she rocked her hips upwards.

His hands expertly undid the binding along her breasts, leaving her bare before him, and she shivered at the feeling of cool air against her skin, although it was soon replaced with the feeling of Cullen’s heat.

He paused in his ministrations and she could feel the hesitance to move forward written purely across his features. After all, she had been injured just the day before, he would hate to aggravate any of her injuries.

Aislin, however, was not nearly as virtuous. With one hand, firmly on the back of his head, Aislin leaned forward once more and placed a hard kiss against his lips. “Do it,” she said. “I won’t break.”

It seemed to be all the encouragement he needed as Cullen rocked forward against her and covered her lips once more with his own. He was still wearing a pair of breeches, although that did little to disguise just how much he was clearly enjoying this. Reaching a hand down towards her sex, her eyes fluttered closed as he thrust against her. She moved her own hands to slide his bottoms down and get them out of the damn way. Her hands were shaking as she did so and she had to move one hand to thread in his hair to ground herself lest she lose herself completely. His fingers played her like an instrument and she twisted herself upwards to kiss him all the more harder and buried her hand further into the blonde curls between her own fingers, the other hand moving to grasp at his back.

He retracted his hand from between her legs all too soon, and she shuddered at the loss, pulling back slowly to catch her breath. Cullen was being gentle with her, careful. He was mindful of the injuries, and she wanted to tell him to sod off it and just take her already, although her mind was a little too preoccupied with the lips currently pressed against her breast, causing her to throw her head back in bliss as she felt his stubble scrape along her sensitive skin. She bit down on her lips as he entered inside of her, whispering her name against her collar bone as he did so.

Cullen’s hands moved down to her hips, holding her as he thrust into her, burying himself deep, and licking and nipping his way along her jaw. They began to move in synch with each other, rolling their hips together, her back arching forward in time with his thrusts.

He was breathing heavily against her skin, and Cullen took a moment to lean back and appreciate the view below him. Aislin was beautiful like this, the morning light streaming in from the window casting her in a healthy glow and her head thrown back in bliss against the pillows. He leaned down once more to capture her lips in a kiss as he thrust against her, whispering her name over and over in a way that completely undid her.

Her back arched forward as she climaxed. A moan and a call of his name made its way past her lips as she collapsed back onto the sheets. Cullen followed soon after, his grip on her hips tightening as he peaked and then collapsed forwards. He rolled onto his side so as not to put his weight on her and they lay there for several moments, the only sounds between them the heavy intakes of breath.

Cullen wrapped her up in his arms as he had the night before, and Aislin curled into him, taking solace in the comfort and strength he provided. “I love you,” she murmured against his chest and she felt the arms around her tighten just a bit. Cullen’s hand moved to cup her chin and tilt it upwards as he placed a soft kiss upon her lips.

“And I, you,” he whispered, voice breathless and husky in a way that almost made her come undone all over again.

“That’s great,” she replied with a slow smile. “Because you’re going to have to help me clean this up before Viv gets here for our next healing session.” Cullen pulled back and made a noise of displeasure and Aislin let out a soft laugh as she reached forward for a small kiss. “But first,” she whispered, her voice sultry, “I think we should take a bath, no?”