[ It's daunting not truly knowing what lies within Neria's mind. But the secrets she holds, no matter what weight they hold, he fears about them not. Cullen wishes to believe his judge of her character has followed through these many years, even if she had willingly exiled herself. But Neria puts a burden upon herself openly, and it is admirable she does so. To know that this is being set aside to forge something new between them is an honor to him. With his gaze meeting hers once more, he leans forward to press an affectionate kiss to her forehead. ]
I am.
[ It is a pact they have made in secrecy, and Cullen is certain the both of them prefer to keep such matters private. So he revels in the gesture he is able to make away from the crowds, prepared to hold back for the long journey ahead. ]
[ But he is just as satisfied to know that they are going to Skyhold, home. And life rages on amidst the remaining chaos that the Inquisition fights. Cullen keeps to himself what they have spoken of, waiting for less exciting times to approach Neria in the passing weeks that follow since their return to Skyhold. There are whispers, and Cullen does not miss the overly approving gazes he receives from certain people. Yet he does not indulge them. What happens between him and Neria is their business only. ]
[ While there may have been a brief spring in his step, however, it is in those passing weeks that the worst of his lyrium withdrawal catches up with him. Despite what comfort he finds in Neria's company, he has managed to go days without sleep. It shows, the color in his face that had once glowed and thrived at the chance to train his troops has paled and lost substance. Tensions return when a recruit takes notice and asks if the Commander has taken ill. Cullen's concerns come to a boil when he snaps, regards the recruit as accusatory of him not being able to handle his position. And it is then that he approaches Cassandra to ask for a replacement. ]
[ Which comes to absolutely no result. Cassandra refuses, leaving Cullen in a position he begins to deem only fit for him. ]
[ He storms through the battlements, dizzy and unwell. His stomach churns and his face feels cold while the flesh beneath it is hot to the touch. How is he to command their army under such conditions? When he has abandoned the cause he cared so much for after all these years? ]
[ Arriving to his office finds no comfort, especially in knowing he has kept a supply of lyrium in a nearby drawer. In a private fit of rage, he has broken the box, tore the drawer off its hinges and scattered papers along the floor. Climbing up the ladder to take rest is impossible, when the first step causes a dizzy spell that nearly makes him fall over. It's frustrating, degrading, and he kicks a small vile of the glowing liquid across the room. ]
[ By the time he is finished, his head is pounding. Cullen finds himself leaning against a wall, head pressed to the cold stone where he only finds some relief. There is silence, though his mind berates him for what he has decided, gaze falling upon the vile on the floor so many times it is burned in his eyes when he closes them. ]
no subject
I am.
[ It is a pact they have made in secrecy, and Cullen is certain the both of them prefer to keep such matters private. So he revels in the gesture he is able to make away from the crowds, prepared to hold back for the long journey ahead. ]
[ But he is just as satisfied to know that they are going to Skyhold, home. And life rages on amidst the remaining chaos that the Inquisition fights. Cullen keeps to himself what they have spoken of, waiting for less exciting times to approach Neria in the passing weeks that follow since their return to Skyhold. There are whispers, and Cullen does not miss the overly approving gazes he receives from certain people. Yet he does not indulge them. What happens between him and Neria is their business only. ]
[ While there may have been a brief spring in his step, however, it is in those passing weeks that the worst of his lyrium withdrawal catches up with him. Despite what comfort he finds in Neria's company, he has managed to go days without sleep. It shows, the color in his face that had once glowed and thrived at the chance to train his troops has paled and lost substance. Tensions return when a recruit takes notice and asks if the Commander has taken ill. Cullen's concerns come to a boil when he snaps, regards the recruit as accusatory of him not being able to handle his position. And it is then that he approaches Cassandra to ask for a replacement. ]
[ Which comes to absolutely no result. Cassandra refuses, leaving Cullen in a position he begins to deem only fit for him. ]
[ He storms through the battlements, dizzy and unwell. His stomach churns and his face feels cold while the flesh beneath it is hot to the touch. How is he to command their army under such conditions? When he has abandoned the cause he cared so much for after all these years? ]
[ Arriving to his office finds no comfort, especially in knowing he has kept a supply of lyrium in a nearby drawer. In a private fit of rage, he has broken the box, tore the drawer off its hinges and scattered papers along the floor. Climbing up the ladder to take rest is impossible, when the first step causes a dizzy spell that nearly makes him fall over. It's frustrating, degrading, and he kicks a small vile of the glowing liquid across the room. ]
[ By the time he is finished, his head is pounding. Cullen finds himself leaning against a wall, head pressed to the cold stone where he only finds some relief. There is silence, though his mind berates him for what he has decided, gaze falling upon the vile on the floor so many times it is burned in his eyes when he closes them. ]