[ He expected that, anticipated to be at least partially berated by someone for continuously working despite his condition. It isn't the first, nor the last time anyone will ever insist that he take a break. But how can he sleep? Knowing that there is so much to do and so little time, that the Inquisition depends on him, there is no way that he could even attempt to relax enough to catch a few hours. Especially not with the nightmares that he knows will follow. ]
[ His eyes meet with the tray first, the smell of food gracing his nose and his stomach grumbles. Partly from hunger and partly for the nausea that follows it. But the gesture does not go unnoticed by Cullen, and he at least manages a brief, weak smile to know that Neria is continuing to be so thoughtful and doting. But it is quick to fade when she speaks. ]
You know I can't do that, Neria.
[ He stands up straight, managing to do so without wobbling back and forth, which is a feat. ]
If Cassandra refuses to find me a replacement, what else am I to do? Just allow this work to go undone? My decision will not interfere with our progress, I refuse.
[ Cullen sighs, and he holds his hand out to affectionately brush Neria's arm. ]
[ Simple broth from the kitchen and bread to start, especially if he isn't feeling well. But she's brought some of her herbs, cold and hot water both, which she immediately sets to work on making him tea. It's no potion or tonic, but there's enough there to probably help some of the inevitable headache. ]
I do think that, given the circumstances, Cassandra would be understanding of you taking a few hours to gather yourself. And I'm just as capable of writing reports. I work with your men too. I could take the helm for a few hours.
[ She gives him a crooked smile, worn at the edges with concern. She can't force him to sleep and there's no guarantee that he'll be so blessed to find some. That, she knows. But even a small bit of help can't hurt, not when he's been run as ragged as he has.
Neria reaches up to cover his hand with hers. ]
Or you can sit here with me and we can do it together.
[ It's high time she take on more of the brunt work. She cannot solely be a commander in the field; if she is to be a part of this Inquisition, she should be taking her fair share of the weight. ]
[ She's right. Maker knows she's right, but he can't pinpoint a time in his life where he has truly taken a break. His comrades are constantly trying to pry him away from work. Whether it be for a game of Wicked Grace or a simple walk in the gardens, or just time for dinner, Cullen knows he is constantly urging others that he has a thousand things to do. But it's different now, especially with what little lyrium remaining inside of him is practically sucking the life out of him. There's an internal struggle going on inside of him where the lyrium is trying so hard to remain, and it's taking everything in his power to persevere. ]
[ But... Neria is right. Cassandra sees no reason to replace him, but she's also one of the many to suggest he take some time to himself. And Cassandra is just as much of a workaholic as he. ]
[ Cullen sighs, his gaze falling upon her hand that delicately drapes over his own. He gently squeezes her arm, thumb rolling in a lazy circle against it affectionately. He hates to make her worry, and he can see the concern in her gaze and hear it in her voice. While Cullen isn't eager to take any sort of time off, knowing that it will ease Neria's mind makes it seem... Necessary. ]
[ It makes sense that they are to share their work. Cullen has been perfectly happy handling the bulk of it, but Neria's expertise is just as valuable as his. ]
Alright.
[ For her, he caves. If only a little. ]
While I'm not completely bowing out, I suppose I see no problem in us sharing the work. You are just as much the rightful Commander as I am.
[ His free hand reaches up to slide fingers through his hair, feeling a piece coming over his brow that he works to move away. ]
I'll... Take a few minutes first. It couldn't hurt.
[ It's difficult to see him so worn. It takes her back to another time, another place, when he told her of the horrors he had seen while trapped in his bewitched prison. He is infinitely safer here among friends and allies, people who look up to him and respect him. The pressure is immense, that she cannot deny, but she has every hope that he also takes confidence from those who have faith in him.
She smiles slightly at his admission, letting go only so she can find a chair for herself. She's spent enough time up here with him that there's one in the far corner for her to procure and bring back to the desk, though she also hesitates to rush him.
Instead, she focuses on what she's brought. ]
There's tea, some broth from the kitchen, and bread. I brought some herbs for the tea, something that should relieve your headache for a time.
[ No magic, not unless he allows. She pours herself a cup of tea, not wanting Cullen to feel uncomfortable eating or drinking alone. Maker knows she'd feel on the spot if it were her. Neria sits, giving him a long glance over. ]
[ Cullen has since brought chairs into his office, given that he and Neria often have had nightly meetings that last quite some time. While he isn't one to sit while he accomplishes all of his work, standing for hours on end makes the muscles tense and cramp. During times like this, it is especially worse, and at the very least, he takes a seat. ]
[ It's with great reluctance that he accepts the broth, tea, and bread. But it is for Neria's sake that he does so, not wanting to reject such a kind gesture from her and risk insulting. Truthfully, holding down food has been as much of a challenge as sleeping, where it is painful and difficult enough that it flat out hasn't happened in days. He's truly in a concerning state, weakened without food or rest. When Cullen sinks into his chair, he's certain he won't be able to get out of it for some time. But there is ease on his bones when he gives in. ]
Thank you...
[ Staring at the food is... Daunting. He's afraid to eat, really. So he goes for the tea first, finding some relief in the warm liquid to his parched throat. He sets his cup down, then leans back into his chair. ]
I suppose I would do well to be honest.
[ Hiding it won't do any good, especially when he knows well that Neria can see how this plagues him. She knows him well enough, and obviously cares. To lie would be to think little of her feelings. ]
I've had an ongoing migraine for the last four days. Whether or not that is from being unable to hold down food or get some rest, or just a symptom I cannot be certain.
My bones and muscles ache and burn, yet I feel cold as if I've been frostbitten. And there are times my heart beats nearly out of my chest.
[ Neria sits back in her chair and sips briefly on the tea she has poured for herself, and she gives him a sympathetic look. She can't help the small smile that's there at his joke, even as she scoots her chair over to be closer to him. ]
If today is "not so good", I'm afraid to ask what a terrible day might look like for you.
[ Gloves removed, she reaches for him, lifting a hand to gently touch his forehead. ]
Those can certainly both be symptoms and effects, and they're feeding into one another to make you feel terrible. And you're warm...but that's probably a symptom of the withdrawal.
[ Her hand drifts down to linger at his cheek a moment before withdrawing, though she stays close for whatever he might need. Neria's gaze searches his face but she does not push, not when he is making every accommodation to help himself in front of her. She cannot imagine what he is going through right now, and her hand finds his once more. ]
And you've continued to fight through this for days without a word. I don't know if I could call that stubbornness or dedication.
[ She shakes her head. ]
Possibly both, truth be told.
[ Would she have done any less? More likely, no, and so she cannot truly judge or berate him. They are much alike in that regard. Neria squeezes his hand, eyes meeting his once more. ]
You don't need to eat if it doesn't suit you. I brought it in case you might like to try. You can go at your own pace. I'll be right here, just the same.
My burden does not belong on the shoulders of anyone else but my own.
[ Cullen states that very matter-of-factly as he takes another sip of his tea. It's soothing enough, where the burn in his throat begins to subside and he can relax a little in his chair. For the time being, his work is set aside successfully. Cullen isn't sure he could even lean forward to take care of it if he tried at this point. His eyes close when she touches his forehead, open when they drift to his cheek and his gaze meets hers. ]
While I appreciate your concerns, I don't wish for this to interfere with our progress. I know you've said it won't, but I have remained silent for everyone's sake.
You're the first I've really indulged with details of my pain.
[ He's almost ashamed to say so. When he sets down his cup once again, their hands become intertwined once more, and Cullen finds comfort when their knees touch once she's scooted closer. He finds himself getting lost in their hands again, content to watch his thumbs roll over her knuckles and fingers. ]
I will eat... Eventually. Before you leave, I promise I will have at least made an attempt.
I don't wish for you to see me struggle. It pains me to sit before you a weakened mess.
[ Neria begins to see some of the tension leak out of his shoulders, though progress is understandably slow. She still occasionally uses lyrium in battle but only during emergencies, and the sickly burn in her stomach is always a deterrent later. To have taken it for years, to have been effectively chained to it, is something else entirely. It comforts her to know he is able to relax even a little now, that the worst of his pain has passed...for now.
Her fingers grasp his, digits running briefly over his palm. ]
Weeks ago, you said that my troubles were yours. That my pain was yours as well, as my partner and comrade.
[ As something more. She looks up at him. ]
I do not find your position any more shameful than my own, Cullen. Your troubles may not belong upon my shoulders but I would welcome them just the same.
[ Her hand turns his over, her fingers wresting over his wrist and pulse point. ]
Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder.
[ He did say that, didn't he? Strange how he finds it perfectly okay to accept the burdens of others, yet shies away from sharing his own. Cullen feels embarrassment at that, to know that Neria is just as willing as he, yet his stubbornness has brought him to this. To a point of appearing sickly and in pain yet trying so hard to keep face when it's so clearly failing. ]
[ Cullen's gaze meets hers, his expression speaking volumes of how much her acceptance means to him. He revels in the feeling of her fingers drifting so carefully along his palm, and it brings a warmth that his chilled flesh welcomes. ]
[ Before he can say anything in return, she moves his hands, lets her palms move over until fingertips touch his wrists. The gesture is soothing enough, but almost pales in comparison to the canticle that falls from her lips. Cullen's attention never leaves her, and there is a look of awe that colors him when she begins to deliver her prayer. Words that touch him deep and leave his stomach fluttering and his heart skipping a beat. A feeling as if he's taken a leap, the inside of him bottoming out and leaving his skin to prickle. Cullen feels warm, as he always does when he prays. Despite what The Chantry has done, never will he desert his faith. It is clear that Neria knows as much, and he is flattered at the gesture. ]
[ Cullen swallows thickly, his face coloring a touch of red before he eventually bows his head and lets her finish. He hangs on every word, commits the sound of her voice breathing such beautiful words. While his bones and muscles are weary and aching, he finds a relieving comfort out of this. And her words ring true, the Chant of Light rings true, as always. He will endure this, as he has endured many hardships before. He nods in acknowledgment to the prayer, a hum of comfort. Cullen's fingers curl under her wrists, caress her skin as he allows his forehead to press against hers. ]
Thank you...
[ His eyes shut, and he finally manages a smile. ]
You're--
[ Weakly, he chuckles. ]
Whatever I have done to deserve your presence by my side... I pledge to continue doing so. I'm not sure where I would be without your unwavering support. Truly, I am not worthy.
[ Faith has been a tenuous thing for Neria for so many years. She prays in her own way, alone, because her prayers are shameful cries in her weakness and anger. Why does the Maker create mages if it means they will be locked away, their rights taken away, never to know freedom again? Why is she a monster when so many others are not, despite the things they do, and in the name of the Maker Himself?
But she does not fault others for having faith. Her frustrations with it, with the unknown plan there is for her, the sadness she feels regarding her own station should not affect others...least of all Cullen, someone she cares for. If his faith is what inspires confidence, who is she to take it away?
Like him, though, she knows the Chant of Light. She knows it forwards and backwards, too many days spent in the secluded area of the small rectory within the Circle listening to prayers with a book in her lap. There is comfort in faith, comfort in such a familiar thing for the both of them. She falls back into it from time to time, craving that familiarity and comfort. It offers a brief balm for her conscience. Better still, it seems to soothe his worry, and she leans into the tender press of his forehead. ]
I'm just a person, Cullen. You deserve kindness and friendship and solace just as anyone else. I'm only glad I can offer it to you, even if for a brief time. I care for you.
[ She opens her eyes to look up into his face. ]
I can't prevent you from hurting but I can certainly worry over what might happen to you.
[ Even in the presence of betrayal and corruption, Cullen's faith has not wavered. If this is a challenge the Maker sees fit to place upon his people, then so be it. Cullen will stand strong and remain loyal to the cause he grew up believing in. Not the destructive tendencies that The Order maintains now. He will make an example of himself, as an ex-Templar, to overcome this trial and come out of it a new man. Knowing that Neria will be there to witness it and support him makes all the difference, and somehow this doesn't seem so hard anymore. ]
[ He shakes his head at her remark, however, and his hands reach up to gently cup both sides of her face. ]
You are so much more than a mere person to me.
[ She has been his beacon, his pillar of support, and he is certain this would not be possible without her. Cullen owes more than just his life to this woman, this woman who is unlike any other he has ever met or ever will meet. This woman who he carries an undeniable torch for, who understands him better than most ever will. ]
Neria, I...
[ There is so much more than just care here. Cullen's heart always paces around her, skips a beat when she merely looks his way. She is kind, intelligent, beautiful, and it is on understandable that he has grown far beyond just attached to her. ]
[ Despite his pain, and despite the discomfort he is surely to be in for days to come, Cullen has faith. In her, in the Maker, and certainly in himself. It is in that spike of confidence that he kisses her without another word. Though passion moves his body, the kiss is gentle and cautious, much like the one they had shared in Halamshiral. And it is in this moment that he realizes how much he's missed such a shared gesture with her. ]
[ Neria meets his gaze when he takes her face in his hands, and she lifts her own to cover his. They haven't had much time to simply be alone like they were that night, when there was an eye in the storm and they held each other that night. Their preparations with Morrigan and training the troops have taken utmost precedence. But his touch is gentle, and she closes her eyes for just a moment to have this, to soak in this closeness.
Her heart swells with what he tells her because she truly and desperately wants to believe that. She has had friends, she has had a handful of lovers. All of it pales in comparison to the way Cullen makes her feel, like she is wanted and needed for far more than her skills as a Warden or a mage.
Perhaps she should question the depth of his feelings, but she feels safe with him, she feels content and peaceful, and every moment they have in private like this makes her wish it would never end.
She is surprised that he kisses her, though she does not shy away. Neria kisses him back, the gesture slow and tender, almost wary. She remembers what she told him, that she was willing and ready to give...this, whatever it is, a chance. To try. That certainly hasn't changed in the weeks it took them to return or the weeks following their arrival at Skyhold. Still, she is frightened to feel so much, to feel like her chest might burst if she lets it go to long.
A hand lifts to cradle his jaw as she kisses him, losing herself in his affection in an attempt to quiet the storm in her mind. ]
[ They should likely define this, talk about it... But it is in that talking that it would require concentration and a delicate hand. Cullen's mind is far too clouded, and his judgment would likely suffer the same fate. In Neria's kiss, it doesn't matter, and for the time being Cullen allows himself to sink into it and let it pave the way for them. ]
[ He finds comfort in this kiss, silence amongst the tormenting voices and sounds he hears when the worst of his symptoms come tumbling back to him. There is warmth in those cheeks he holds, one that seems to spread as his hands reach to tangle fingers in her hair as he leans forward. If the world were to end right here and right now, he's sure he wouldn't notice. Cullen clings to the silence and relief that he feels in this, begs for more in the tilt of his head and parting of his lips. ]
[ The skipping he feels in his heart is nearly painful, but gratifying. Cullen hardly loathes to admit that there is something strong here, but there is fear in verbalizing it to her. Where should this go? What is to come between them in the midst of war and when it is all over? She had said she was willing to give this a chance, but is this truly right for her? For them? Cullen fears to give in to his true desires, not knowing whether or not he truly deserves it where he stands. As Commander, as an ex-Templar to a Mage and a Grey Warden... ]
[ But for now, he is content to stay like this, and to usher as much as he can from it. ]
[ He isn't the only one actively wondering and analyzing what this is, what it means, and Neria knows they will need to discuss it eventually... Not here, however, and not now when he's hurting. It's just as well; it's difficult for her to put her feelings into words, to allow herself the chance to explore her options. She still doesn't wholly believe she deserves to be here with him, to stay with the Inquisition, or to have this second chance. In fact, some part of her holds out that she will leave at the end of all of this. But she does genuinely care for Cullen and the thought of leaving him and going back to the outskirts of the West tears at her heart. She genuinely wishes to stay beside him, as she said before. The harder decision will come when all of this is over and she has to follow through with her own desires.
But this, for now, is contenting. He holds her with such care and tenderness, something no one has done before. She has not felt such love-- And yes, she can identify this as love, that she loves him, and while she cannot say if she believes in true love or lasting love, she can at least understand that she loves Cullen in this way; loves the way he holds her, kisses her, the way he looks at her, just as she loves the compassion in his heart and the strength of his character, the fire in him that he clings to. And she answers his kiss with her own, trying to convey how much she cares for him, how she hopes he understands how much he means to her.
In this moment, in the way she tilts her head into the draw of his fingers in her hair, brushes her tongue against his lips, she kisses Cullen like he is her life blood, her salvation, and her every need. Nothing can be greater than this to her, nothing so perfect, and he has given it to her without reserve. ]
[ Cullen finds a renewed sense of self, of energy, when their kiss deepens. Such a gesture brings more life into his weary bones, and he feels guilty for wanting more. But Neria's presence alone was already enough to ease some of his aches. He shivers at the feeling of her tongue so gently brushing along his lip, allowing his tongue to meet hers where they briefly entangle. The passion and care that she carries throughout the gesture is absolutely not lost on him, and Cullen uses whatever energy left in him to return it. ]
[ He loves her. There is absolutely no debate or wonder about it, though the definition between them is still unspoken. Cullen may strive to follow traditional values, but he worries speaking would risk what they have or cause things to take a turn for the awkward. But there is absolutely no denying himself about the strength of his feelings for her. Whatever energy within him is ushered for this moment, where his arms work to wrap around her and he scoots forward yet again. Cullen revels in the way his heart pounds and his entire body feels as if it is ablaze in a hot fire, the warmth comforting. A piece of her hair tickles at his cheek, her breath filling him where he remembers that he is here. He is here and alive and so is she. Even the voices that plague his mind are silenced in the face of such closeness. ]
[ But he has to come up for air eventually, and Cullen eventually breaks the kiss with great reluctance. He gasps against her lips, forehead still glued to hers. ]
Maker, I--
[ Words. He wishes to avoid them, but such a desire is futile. Cullen's eyes remain shut, and he hesitates a moment. He grasps her arms and allows his palms to brush down them and back to her hands, where he holds them tightly yet again. ]
Will you...
Would you stay with me? Tonight, I...
I can't bear the thought of being away from you. Not now.
[ Neria sighs into the feeling of his arms around her, like a great weight has been lifted from that gesture alone. No matter what they do, no matter how far she has fallen into these feelings for him, his embrace continuously reminds her of that day when she returned to Skyhold and he had held her, that he had welcomed her and embraced her as no one else had in so very, very long. No matter the outcome, no matter what her heart says or the depth of her feelings, she knows he cares for her simply because of who she is and she treasures him just as much. It isn't because of their shared history, his attractiveness, the things he has done for her. It is that Cullen is a man she admires, and will continue to do so, no matter where life takes her or if she should remain beside him.
It is difficult to be parted from his lips, she realizes, and she hopes the red in her cheeks from that recognition is not so obvious. Her smile is self-conscious and just on this side of self-deprecating, chiding herself for getting carried away when he was, and still is, very much recovering from a terrible and painful afternoon. She exhales against his lips and lets their foreheads linger together, because that is enough, she thinks, to keep her heart from feeling quite so full.
At last, she opens her eyes to look at him, and though taken aback by the request, she tries to smile through her surprise. ]
Of course I will.
[ I can't bear the thought of being away from you. Her heart skips a beat and her breathing catches, even though she never looks away. Her hands squeeze his and she lifts his knuckles to her lips, in the little space between them. Neria nods again, even if she's already given her consent.
Lowering his hands, she murmurs: ]
You-- I won't go anywhere unless you ask it of me.
[ In truth, it would only take his word to send her away from him now. But if she told him that, what would he say? She can't, not just this moment. What he needs is more important. ]
[ He feels relief in her consent, less anxious than he had been before she had arrived. Cullen is normally fine on his own, even prefers his privacy over the company of others. But he has found himself growing dependent on Neria's company, only truly content when she shares space with him of any kind. Whether that be on the battlefield or within the War Room, he feels at his best when she is by his side. She has quickly become his other half, where he has never felt so full and whole in so very long. ]
[ For once, he smiles, and it is genuine and soft, close enough to still touch her lips. ]
I would never ask of you to leave my side. Never.
[ He revels in the feeling of her lips touching his knuckles, and he holds on to this feeling. It brings warmth to his cold and biting flesh, sets his heart at ease. ]
Neria, I... I admit I have never felt this content in so long. To have a vacant space where you used to be would likely provoke my undoing.
Your faith not only in our cause, but in me while I go through this has been the thread that has kept me together. Forgive me if this places a straining burden upon you.
[ She laughs, or something close to it - a breathy sort of exhale that vaguely resembles a chuckle - and ducks her head only slightly. ]
That's...incredibly flattering, but trust me when I say that even I tire of my company now and again.
[ Flattering and kind and she does not know what to do with such a statement. Does she wish to always be beside him? Does she wish he would be harder on her, more scrutinizing? Yes, yes to all of these and more. Neria is torn between wanting more of Cullen, wanting to tell him so much, bare everything to him...and knowing she does not deserve it. She is selfish, and she will take what he gives her, and decide later what to do with the rest.
She needs to fix this. She wants to be worthy of the way he looks at her, the admiration he holds, the care he blesses her with.
Neria looks up at him and tries for a smile, no matter how sad it might be at the very edges. ]
You and your feelings are not a burden to me, Cullen.
[ Not for a single moment. This is a journey they are taking together, for better or worse, and she cannot ask for anyone else who might understand her torment and guilt better. He has accepted her when others might not have. She will forever be in his debt.
Her smile strengthens as she looks on him. ]
If I can give that to you-- That is enough for me. You have made this journey worthwhile in every way. I cannot remember the last time I have felt...
[ Here, she hesitates. It shows in her eyes how she wrestles with what she wants to say and what it may mean, how it might change things between them. ]
That I've felt like I belong. As if this is where I am supposed to be.
[ He could never tire of her company, and he certainly hasn't. In the months that have passed, they have spent quite the amount of time together. Both on and off the battlements, and Cullen wouldn't have it any other way. Despite the pain and discomfort he is in, he feels at his best at her side. Her smile brings him strength, her touch only feeding to it and he finds confidence that he will make it through this downward spiral so long as she holds his hand along the way. ]
[ Neria tells him his feelings are not a burden to her, and he believes it. There had been a point where he almost hadn't, but her tone and delivery is genuine. What she says next has him pausing, eyes quick to meet with hers where he hangs on that hesitation as if it were a cliff crumbling under his grasp. But he doesn't fall, she says... Something. Something akin to whatever it is that this might be, and he can't help but press. ]
Of course you belong. Your contribution to the Inquisition is just as valuable as your presence. We've come so far with your guidance, your Wardens...
[ Cullen looks down at their hands, where his fingers latch around and thumbs roll circles around her knuckles. ]
I... I certainly owe my own success to you.
[ Even through his pain, his smile is soft, genuine. ]
Neria...
I care for you. Words cannot express how far such feelings run, but I find myself eager to know where this might go once everything is over.
[ She detests how hesitant she is. It has been so long since she has been able to trust someone so implicitly and that alone scares her. So much of who she is and who she wants to be is tied to the validation he provides. Even without Cullen, he has offered her a window into a glimpse of what she should be striving to be, the things she should be doing beyond her small focus of the Wardens and the Calling. He has given her hope for herself as well as her people.
Her hands tighten around his, eyes meeting his own even if the intensity of his gaze is nearly paralyzing. She knows what he is hoping she will divulge. Since their discussion prior to Halamshiral, she has known that whatever they could be is tied to her decision whether to stay or eventually leave.
When Neria speaks, her voice is quiet, but what she hopes to say is important to clarify. ]
I wasn't meaning the Inquisition. The Inquisition has offered me...opportunity. Kaia has offered me opportunity, stability, and trust. I am forever grateful for that. But when I speak of belonging...I'm speaking of you.
[ She has no family any longer, no one to call hers. The closest she has are those from the Fifth Blight and they are scattered, only Leliana, Alistair, and Oghren remaining in positions she can find easily enough. But beyond their shared history and tied miseries, Cullen has given her more than she can say. He has given her something to aspire to. In many ways, Cullen has given her back her life and her happiness.
So why is it still so hard to tell him how he makes her feel? It would not be kind of her to turn it back on him, to ask him what he should want, not when he has made it clear how he wishes her to remain. ]
When the Inquisition is freed of the threat of Corypheus, there are things I wish to do.
[ Seeing Alistair, continuing her research, keeping the Wardens safe. ]
Every day, I consider what will happen when this is over. At first, I simply imagined I would return from whence I came to continue what I was working on. But now-- Imagining my life without you, after all that has happened, is...painful. I care for you, more than I have the courage to say, and it shames me to admit that I still can't seem to find the right thing to say.
[ She closes her eyes tightly, wishing she could simply say it without feeling afraid. But she wants to try. Maker's breath, she wants to try for him. ]
[ Cullen can't help the look of confusion when she corrects him. It isn't that he has not been suspicious of... Something blossoming between them. Certainly, he has been sure of his feelings for her since their shared dance in Halamshiral. But he's kept those feelings to himself, at least the very word, for her sake. For fear of her taking off, being angry with him, feeling burdened even if she has told him time and time again that his feelings are not a burden at all. He's hardly experienced in romance, only knowing what he has read in books or seen from a distance. ]
[ It is so difficult to focus right now, to not feel his mind drift off to those thoughts that guide him elsewhere. But he still finds himself hanging on every single word, fighting for his mentality despite the deterioration of it through his withdrawal. Perhaps that is why he had misunderstood. ]
[ But she continues, speaking of what she has considered of her future. Of their future, and Cullen can't help but find relief in knowing that she has pictured one with him there. He doesn't deserve it, not in the slightest, but he is so humbled to know that there is at least a possibility of something. ]
Whatever depth such care runs, know that I would only feel honor. You've no reason to fear my--
[ She says it before he can pry. I love you. Three words he hasn't heard from anyone in so, so very long. And they echo in his mind, almost seem unreal in the midst of his struggle to hold on to reality. But he watches her lips form the words, the way her eyes shut to prepare herself for it, and Cullen's heart swells. His stomach flutters, the rest of him feeling somehow warm and comfortably so. ]
Maker--
[ Cullen's eyes widen, lips parting in bewilderment to hear her say such things. He exhales, and it sounds like shock. He swallows thickly as he scoots forward yet again, taking her hands just a bit closer to him. ]
I love you too.
[ He manages a smile, the words falling from his lips effortlessly because he has wanted to tell her so badly. His hands squeeze hers, despite how weak they are, how much his joints ache. ]
I love you. Neria, I've wanted to say that for so long.
[ She is terrified of saying it and it takes every ounce of courage she has to put words to her feelings. Neria doubts Cullen will make her feel ashamed for it, nor does she expect him to really turn her away out of cruelty. What she feels is overwhelming, unknown in so many senses of the word. She knows love, has had love, but nothing beyond the feeling of family. Of belonging. Of knowing she has worth in someone's eyes and not because she has a mantle of authority. But this is...more, exponentially so. How can she contain it in words? How can she tell him how grateful she is for the chance to be a person first and not simply a figure, to make sense of the mistakes she's made and to attempt to fix them?
Neria feels breathless with the words she says, three little ones, and she feels moisture behind her eyes that she has to turn her head down to hide. She feels foolish, even if he holds her hands closer, and she looks up at him with glassy eyes that are wide and she does smile, at last, the seriousness of the subject and her own feelings laid bare. The look he gives her is enough to leave her heart aching painfully, but she almost laughs with how ridiculous she feels, nearly crying over finally being able to say something honest and true. ]
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I-- I'm terrible at saying the things I mean.
[ As much as she hates to let go of his hands, one hand slips out to touch his face, to hold him. Cullen is pale and looks so tired, but his smile is radiant just the same, a patch of sunlight on an otherwise cloudy day. ]
You have made every part of this - me being here, fighting, fixing what I have done - bearable. You have made it wonderful. If we die tomorrow, I need you to know that I am happier with you than I have been in years.
[ She loves him. She knows it. She has known it, and it has not been a denial so much as a slow dragging of her feet to say something so important. Now, now is the best time, and she feels lighter for having said so, for finally being honest with him. ]
I love you, Cullen. I truly love you with all of who I am.
[ He could hardly blame her for feeling the way she does. It isn't as if it's easy so share feelings when your profession encourages the abandonment of that. While finding love is not necessarily frowned upon as a Templar, your life is still in the hands of the Order and your Knight-Commander. You dedicate your life and heart to the Maker, and your duties manage to take a large portion of your life and spare time. Cullen finds no shame in how she shares what she feels, and in fact is honored to be the one these feelings are directed to. ]
[ Cullen leans into her touch, smile still as bright as it can be despite the color that has left his face. He lets his forehead rest against hers, noses brushing and his eyes close to simply take this in. Take her in. He reaches to her hands, holding them over his face. ]
I'm... Honored. Truly, I am humbled to know that I have been able to make you feel such happiness. You deserve to be held as high as a man can reach, and...
I promise I will ensure these feelings last until my last breath.
[ Maker, he could listen to her say those words a million times. Cullen exhales with content, hands holding gently to her wrists in hopes of keeping her touch. ]
Know that it is in your company, your care that I have been able to thrive. I swear to you, on my word, that I will never leave your side. As your man, I will make it my life's work to keep you happy, to make you feel as loved as you have made me feel.
[ Neria manages a weighty exhale even as he brings her hands up to his face. She cradles his face, her thumbs brushing his cheeks, and she is finally able to look him in the eye without feeling so small and insignificant. He still holds her on such a high pedestal and she smiles, enjoying the intimacy of such closeness, their foreheads resting against one another's. ]
I just want you to be yourself. You've given me so much by simply treating me as an equal, not as someone above you.
[ That he has shared his work space with her, his time and his opinion, without fear of her, without feeling confined by their roles or by titles. That is all she wants. But her heart skips a beat at what he says: to make you feel as loved as you have made me feel. Wordlessly, she nods, her throat threatening to close on itself.
To Cullen, he gets a smile, genuine happiness where there was only worry mere minutes ago. ]
I will go with you wherever your journey takes you, whether that is with the Inquisition or without it. When they put away the sword, I will still be here. No matter what comes, you will not face it alone.
[ She has to say it aloud for the both of them, to confirm what she has said before: she wishes to remain with him, no matter the cost. The things she needs to do, her goals, will not impede on what they can have.
Maker, she feels... Elated. Still afraid, yes, but there is excitement in that, and she feels she might burst from it. ]
[ Somehow with intentions on the table, things have become... Easier? Things such as motivation, focus, rest. It is in Neria's support and care that Cullen is able to follow through with the worst of his withdrawal. There are long, painful months to follow what has blossomed between he and Neria. Her patience is a blessing, where in his various outbursts and desperate moments nearly bringing him to reach for a vial, she remains by his side. Granted, it has made the progression of their relationship... Slow. ]
[ And even well after his withdrawal comes to a desirable end, the difficulty of finding time for one another remains high. Though the likelihood of either sharing what has become of the two remains low. Just as Cullen prefers it. Many times, Kaia has pulled him aside, tried to prod and pry, find if her influence had succeeded. And each time, Cullen would wave dismissively or vehemently deny. What Neria and he share is their business, private, and surely not something he wishes to allow to interfere with their work. ]
[ Though, the desire to continue holding up such a strong barrier starts to wear down after some time. Especially when private moments quickly fail. Perhaps Cullen should have made a habit of taking breaks before, maybe then his recruits would not expect him to be available even at the latest hours. Stealing a kiss is as difficult as a couple hours of sleep, and to know that it finally begins to get to him is as terrifying as the notion of taking time away from his duties. ]
[ But Maker, he is only a man. How he has somehow began to realize that nowis beyond him. Cullen loves her, cherishes just standing beside her but it is in that love that has been set on the table between them that he realizes his attraction to her might... Slightly be getting in the way of his productivity. He's ashamed, surely, and Neria may have very likely caught him in the middle of passionate prayer to keep him at bay. When this is all over, he tells himself, it will be well worth it for the both of them. ]
[ Months pass yet again, and so the influence of the Inquisition continues on. There are lulls that the entirety of the Inquisition cherishes if only a little, but each mission is an important press forward. Their nightly meetings at the War Table see no end, and each one could run through an entire evening. All gather around, glowing candlelight illuminating what pieces had been placed upon the board the night before. Josephine is the first to share her reports of missions previously finalized, just as Leliana places new pieces along the map. Cullen awaits for them to finish, hand resting over his sword while he focuses on what might be the most valuable step forward. ]
[ Josephine speaks ]
Inquisitor, we've received additional correspondence from Marquis Mantillon. It appears you've an offer to uphold in the Winter Palace.
[ Kaia's smile is crooked, shoulders shrugging. ]
Because clearly I've gained excellent skill in this ridiculous Game I've been forced to play. What of it now?
[ Cullen's brow raises in turn, silent. He isn't fond of the Winter Palace, certainly not of Orlais either. The Game Orlesians play has never been interesting to him, beautiful as Orlais may be. But he can't help but find brief interest when Josephine begins to fully read the letter sent from the Marquis. An easy task, a simple order to a few of their troops to defend an attack. Neria and he could certainly make short work of the matter. ]
[ His neck cranes as he peeks over Josephine's shoulder, desperately trying (and likely failing) to hide that he reads over the large ruffles that decorate her arms. Brow still perked, he looked over to Neria, still silent, in a wordless type of body language where he hopes she is as intrigued as he is. ]
[ At least... In the sense that this might be their first opportunity in some time to find some privacy. His eyes lock on her, Josephine's words drowning out while she discusses what she might be able to do in the form of utilizing favors. His gaze looks to her in a way that says "Perhaps we might... You know?" ]
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no subject
[ His eyes meet with the tray first, the smell of food gracing his nose and his stomach grumbles. Partly from hunger and partly for the nausea that follows it. But the gesture does not go unnoticed by Cullen, and he at least manages a brief, weak smile to know that Neria is continuing to be so thoughtful and doting. But it is quick to fade when she speaks. ]
You know I can't do that, Neria.
[ He stands up straight, managing to do so without wobbling back and forth, which is a feat. ]
If Cassandra refuses to find me a replacement, what else am I to do? Just allow this work to go undone? My decision will not interfere with our progress, I refuse.
[ Cullen sighs, and he holds his hand out to affectionately brush Neria's arm. ]
I told you, I will be fine.
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I do think that, given the circumstances, Cassandra would be understanding of you taking a few hours to gather yourself. And I'm just as capable of writing reports. I work with your men too. I could take the helm for a few hours.
[ She gives him a crooked smile, worn at the edges with concern. She can't force him to sleep and there's no guarantee that he'll be so blessed to find some. That, she knows. But even a small bit of help can't hurt, not when he's been run as ragged as he has.
Neria reaches up to cover his hand with hers. ]
Or you can sit here with me and we can do it together.
[ It's high time she take on more of the brunt work. She cannot solely be a commander in the field; if she is to be a part of this Inquisition, she should be taking her fair share of the weight. ]
We are partners, after all, no?
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[ But... Neria is right. Cassandra sees no reason to replace him, but she's also one of the many to suggest he take some time to himself. And Cassandra is just as much of a workaholic as he. ]
[ Cullen sighs, his gaze falling upon her hand that delicately drapes over his own. He gently squeezes her arm, thumb rolling in a lazy circle against it affectionately. He hates to make her worry, and he can see the concern in her gaze and hear it in her voice. While Cullen isn't eager to take any sort of time off, knowing that it will ease Neria's mind makes it seem... Necessary. ]
[ It makes sense that they are to share their work. Cullen has been perfectly happy handling the bulk of it, but Neria's expertise is just as valuable as his. ]
Alright.
[ For her, he caves. If only a little. ]
While I'm not completely bowing out, I suppose I see no problem in us sharing the work. You are just as much the rightful Commander as I am.
[ His free hand reaches up to slide fingers through his hair, feeling a piece coming over his brow that he works to move away. ]
I'll... Take a few minutes first. It couldn't hurt.
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She smiles slightly at his admission, letting go only so she can find a chair for herself. She's spent enough time up here with him that there's one in the far corner for her to procure and bring back to the desk, though she also hesitates to rush him.
Instead, she focuses on what she's brought. ]
There's tea, some broth from the kitchen, and bread. I brought some herbs for the tea, something that should relieve your headache for a time.
[ No magic, not unless he allows. She pours herself a cup of tea, not wanting Cullen to feel uncomfortable eating or drinking alone. Maker knows she'd feel on the spot if it were her. Neria sits, giving him a long glance over. ]
How are you feeling?
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[ It's with great reluctance that he accepts the broth, tea, and bread. But it is for Neria's sake that he does so, not wanting to reject such a kind gesture from her and risk insulting. Truthfully, holding down food has been as much of a challenge as sleeping, where it is painful and difficult enough that it flat out hasn't happened in days. He's truly in a concerning state, weakened without food or rest. When Cullen sinks into his chair, he's certain he won't be able to get out of it for some time. But there is ease on his bones when he gives in. ]
Thank you...
[ Staring at the food is... Daunting. He's afraid to eat, really. So he goes for the tea first, finding some relief in the warm liquid to his parched throat. He sets his cup down, then leans back into his chair. ]
I suppose I would do well to be honest.
[ Hiding it won't do any good, especially when he knows well that Neria can see how this plagues him. She knows him well enough, and obviously cares. To lie would be to think little of her feelings. ]
I've had an ongoing migraine for the last four days. Whether or not that is from being unable to hold down food or get some rest, or just a symptom I cannot be certain.
My bones and muscles ache and burn, yet I feel cold as if I've been frostbitten. And there are times my heart beats nearly out of my chest.
So...
[ With a forced, crooked smile, Cullen laughs. ]
I would think that qualifies as "not so good".
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If today is "not so good", I'm afraid to ask what a terrible day might look like for you.
[ Gloves removed, she reaches for him, lifting a hand to gently touch his forehead. ]
Those can certainly both be symptoms and effects, and they're feeding into one another to make you feel terrible. And you're warm...but that's probably a symptom of the withdrawal.
[ Her hand drifts down to linger at his cheek a moment before withdrawing, though she stays close for whatever he might need. Neria's gaze searches his face but she does not push, not when he is making every accommodation to help himself in front of her. She cannot imagine what he is going through right now, and her hand finds his once more. ]
And you've continued to fight through this for days without a word. I don't know if I could call that stubbornness or dedication.
[ She shakes her head. ]
Possibly both, truth be told.
[ Would she have done any less? More likely, no, and so she cannot truly judge or berate him. They are much alike in that regard. Neria squeezes his hand, eyes meeting his once more. ]
You don't need to eat if it doesn't suit you. I brought it in case you might like to try. You can go at your own pace. I'll be right here, just the same.
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[ Cullen states that very matter-of-factly as he takes another sip of his tea. It's soothing enough, where the burn in his throat begins to subside and he can relax a little in his chair. For the time being, his work is set aside successfully. Cullen isn't sure he could even lean forward to take care of it if he tried at this point. His eyes close when she touches his forehead, open when they drift to his cheek and his gaze meets hers. ]
While I appreciate your concerns, I don't wish for this to interfere with our progress. I know you've said it won't, but I have remained silent for everyone's sake.
You're the first I've really indulged with details of my pain.
[ He's almost ashamed to say so. When he sets down his cup once again, their hands become intertwined once more, and Cullen finds comfort when their knees touch once she's scooted closer. He finds himself getting lost in their hands again, content to watch his thumbs roll over her knuckles and fingers. ]
I will eat... Eventually. Before you leave, I promise I will have at least made an attempt.
I don't wish for you to see me struggle. It pains me to sit before you a weakened mess.
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Her fingers grasp his, digits running briefly over his palm. ]
Weeks ago, you said that my troubles were yours. That my pain was yours as well, as my partner and comrade.
[ As something more. She looks up at him. ]
I do not find your position any more shameful than my own, Cullen. Your troubles may not belong upon my shoulders but I would welcome them just the same.
[ Her hand turns his over, her fingers wresting over his wrist and pulse point. ]
Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,
I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm.
I shall endure.
What you have created, no one can tear asunder.
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[ Cullen's gaze meets hers, his expression speaking volumes of how much her acceptance means to him. He revels in the feeling of her fingers drifting so carefully along his palm, and it brings a warmth that his chilled flesh welcomes. ]
[ Before he can say anything in return, she moves his hands, lets her palms move over until fingertips touch his wrists. The gesture is soothing enough, but almost pales in comparison to the canticle that falls from her lips. Cullen's attention never leaves her, and there is a look of awe that colors him when she begins to deliver her prayer. Words that touch him deep and leave his stomach fluttering and his heart skipping a beat. A feeling as if he's taken a leap, the inside of him bottoming out and leaving his skin to prickle. Cullen feels warm, as he always does when he prays. Despite what The Chantry has done, never will he desert his faith. It is clear that Neria knows as much, and he is flattered at the gesture. ]
[ Cullen swallows thickly, his face coloring a touch of red before he eventually bows his head and lets her finish. He hangs on every word, commits the sound of her voice breathing such beautiful words. While his bones and muscles are weary and aching, he finds a relieving comfort out of this. And her words ring true, the Chant of Light rings true, as always. He will endure this, as he has endured many hardships before. He nods in acknowledgment to the prayer, a hum of comfort. Cullen's fingers curl under her wrists, caress her skin as he allows his forehead to press against hers. ]
Thank you...
[ His eyes shut, and he finally manages a smile. ]
You're--
[ Weakly, he chuckles. ]
Whatever I have done to deserve your presence by my side... I pledge to continue doing so. I'm not sure where I would be without your unwavering support. Truly, I am not worthy.
no subject
But she does not fault others for having faith. Her frustrations with it, with the unknown plan there is for her, the sadness she feels regarding her own station should not affect others...least of all Cullen, someone she cares for. If his faith is what inspires confidence, who is she to take it away?
Like him, though, she knows the Chant of Light. She knows it forwards and backwards, too many days spent in the secluded area of the small rectory within the Circle listening to prayers with a book in her lap. There is comfort in faith, comfort in such a familiar thing for the both of them. She falls back into it from time to time, craving that familiarity and comfort. It offers a brief balm for her conscience. Better still, it seems to soothe his worry, and she leans into the tender press of his forehead. ]
I'm just a person, Cullen. You deserve kindness and friendship and solace just as anyone else. I'm only glad I can offer it to you, even if for a brief time. I care for you.
[ She opens her eyes to look up into his face. ]
I can't prevent you from hurting but I can certainly worry over what might happen to you.
no subject
[ He shakes his head at her remark, however, and his hands reach up to gently cup both sides of her face. ]
You are so much more than a mere person to me.
[ She has been his beacon, his pillar of support, and he is certain this would not be possible without her. Cullen owes more than just his life to this woman, this woman who is unlike any other he has ever met or ever will meet. This woman who he carries an undeniable torch for, who understands him better than most ever will. ]
Neria, I...
[ There is so much more than just care here. Cullen's heart always paces around her, skips a beat when she merely looks his way. She is kind, intelligent, beautiful, and it is on understandable that he has grown far beyond just attached to her. ]
[ Despite his pain, and despite the discomfort he is surely to be in for days to come, Cullen has faith. In her, in the Maker, and certainly in himself. It is in that spike of confidence that he kisses her without another word. Though passion moves his body, the kiss is gentle and cautious, much like the one they had shared in Halamshiral. And it is in this moment that he realizes how much he's missed such a shared gesture with her. ]
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Her heart swells with what he tells her because she truly and desperately wants to believe that. She has had friends, she has had a handful of lovers. All of it pales in comparison to the way Cullen makes her feel, like she is wanted and needed for far more than her skills as a Warden or a mage.
Perhaps she should question the depth of his feelings, but she feels safe with him, she feels content and peaceful, and every moment they have in private like this makes her wish it would never end.
She is surprised that he kisses her, though she does not shy away. Neria kisses him back, the gesture slow and tender, almost wary. She remembers what she told him, that she was willing and ready to give...this, whatever it is, a chance. To try. That certainly hasn't changed in the weeks it took them to return or the weeks following their arrival at Skyhold. Still, she is frightened to feel so much, to feel like her chest might burst if she lets it go to long.
A hand lifts to cradle his jaw as she kisses him, losing herself in his affection in an attempt to quiet the storm in her mind. ]
no subject
[ He finds comfort in this kiss, silence amongst the tormenting voices and sounds he hears when the worst of his symptoms come tumbling back to him. There is warmth in those cheeks he holds, one that seems to spread as his hands reach to tangle fingers in her hair as he leans forward. If the world were to end right here and right now, he's sure he wouldn't notice. Cullen clings to the silence and relief that he feels in this, begs for more in the tilt of his head and parting of his lips. ]
[ The skipping he feels in his heart is nearly painful, but gratifying. Cullen hardly loathes to admit that there is something strong here, but there is fear in verbalizing it to her. Where should this go? What is to come between them in the midst of war and when it is all over? She had said she was willing to give this a chance, but is this truly right for her? For them? Cullen fears to give in to his true desires, not knowing whether or not he truly deserves it where he stands. As Commander, as an ex-Templar to a Mage and a Grey Warden... ]
[ But for now, he is content to stay like this, and to usher as much as he can from it. ]
no subject
But this, for now, is contenting. He holds her with such care and tenderness, something no one has done before. She has not felt such love-- And yes, she can identify this as love, that she loves him, and while she cannot say if she believes in true love or lasting love, she can at least understand that she loves Cullen in this way; loves the way he holds her, kisses her, the way he looks at her, just as she loves the compassion in his heart and the strength of his character, the fire in him that he clings to. And she answers his kiss with her own, trying to convey how much she cares for him, how she hopes he understands how much he means to her.
In this moment, in the way she tilts her head into the draw of his fingers in her hair, brushes her tongue against his lips, she kisses Cullen like he is her life blood, her salvation, and her every need. Nothing can be greater than this to her, nothing so perfect, and he has given it to her without reserve. ]
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[ He loves her. There is absolutely no debate or wonder about it, though the definition between them is still unspoken. Cullen may strive to follow traditional values, but he worries speaking would risk what they have or cause things to take a turn for the awkward. But there is absolutely no denying himself about the strength of his feelings for her. Whatever energy within him is ushered for this moment, where his arms work to wrap around her and he scoots forward yet again. Cullen revels in the way his heart pounds and his entire body feels as if it is ablaze in a hot fire, the warmth comforting. A piece of her hair tickles at his cheek, her breath filling him where he remembers that he is here. He is here and alive and so is she. Even the voices that plague his mind are silenced in the face of such closeness. ]
[ But he has to come up for air eventually, and Cullen eventually breaks the kiss with great reluctance. He gasps against her lips, forehead still glued to hers. ]
Maker, I--
[ Words. He wishes to avoid them, but such a desire is futile. Cullen's eyes remain shut, and he hesitates a moment. He grasps her arms and allows his palms to brush down them and back to her hands, where he holds them tightly yet again. ]
Will you...
Would you stay with me? Tonight, I...
I can't bear the thought of being away from you. Not now.
no subject
It is difficult to be parted from his lips, she realizes, and she hopes the red in her cheeks from that recognition is not so obvious. Her smile is self-conscious and just on this side of self-deprecating, chiding herself for getting carried away when he was, and still is, very much recovering from a terrible and painful afternoon. She exhales against his lips and lets their foreheads linger together, because that is enough, she thinks, to keep her heart from feeling quite so full.
At last, she opens her eyes to look at him, and though taken aback by the request, she tries to smile through her surprise. ]
Of course I will.
[ I can't bear the thought of being away from you. Her heart skips a beat and her breathing catches, even though she never looks away. Her hands squeeze his and she lifts his knuckles to her lips, in the little space between them. Neria nods again, even if she's already given her consent.
Lowering his hands, she murmurs: ]
You-- I won't go anywhere unless you ask it of me.
[ In truth, it would only take his word to send her away from him now. But if she told him that, what would he say? She can't, not just this moment. What he needs is more important. ]
no subject
[ For once, he smiles, and it is genuine and soft, close enough to still touch her lips. ]
I would never ask of you to leave my side. Never.
[ He revels in the feeling of her lips touching his knuckles, and he holds on to this feeling. It brings warmth to his cold and biting flesh, sets his heart at ease. ]
Neria, I... I admit I have never felt this content in so long. To have a vacant space where you used to be would likely provoke my undoing.
Your faith not only in our cause, but in me while I go through this has been the thread that has kept me together. Forgive me if this places a straining burden upon you.
no subject
That's...incredibly flattering, but trust me when I say that even I tire of my company now and again.
[ Flattering and kind and she does not know what to do with such a statement. Does she wish to always be beside him? Does she wish he would be harder on her, more scrutinizing? Yes, yes to all of these and more. Neria is torn between wanting more of Cullen, wanting to tell him so much, bare everything to him...and knowing she does not deserve it. She is selfish, and she will take what he gives her, and decide later what to do with the rest.
She needs to fix this. She wants to be worthy of the way he looks at her, the admiration he holds, the care he blesses her with.
Neria looks up at him and tries for a smile, no matter how sad it might be at the very edges. ]
You and your feelings are not a burden to me, Cullen.
[ Not for a single moment. This is a journey they are taking together, for better or worse, and she cannot ask for anyone else who might understand her torment and guilt better. He has accepted her when others might not have. She will forever be in his debt.
Her smile strengthens as she looks on him. ]
If I can give that to you-- That is enough for me. You have made this journey worthwhile in every way. I cannot remember the last time I have felt...
[ Here, she hesitates. It shows in her eyes how she wrestles with what she wants to say and what it may mean, how it might change things between them. ]
That I've felt like I belong. As if this is where I am supposed to be.
no subject
[ Neria tells him his feelings are not a burden to her, and he believes it. There had been a point where he almost hadn't, but her tone and delivery is genuine. What she says next has him pausing, eyes quick to meet with hers where he hangs on that hesitation as if it were a cliff crumbling under his grasp. But he doesn't fall, she says... Something. Something akin to whatever it is that this might be, and he can't help but press. ]
Of course you belong. Your contribution to the Inquisition is just as valuable as your presence. We've come so far with your guidance, your Wardens...
[ Cullen looks down at their hands, where his fingers latch around and thumbs roll circles around her knuckles. ]
I... I certainly owe my own success to you.
[ Even through his pain, his smile is soft, genuine. ]
Neria...
I care for you. Words cannot express how far such feelings run, but I find myself eager to know where this might go once everything is over.
no subject
Her hands tighten around his, eyes meeting his own even if the intensity of his gaze is nearly paralyzing. She knows what he is hoping she will divulge. Since their discussion prior to Halamshiral, she has known that whatever they could be is tied to her decision whether to stay or eventually leave.
When Neria speaks, her voice is quiet, but what she hopes to say is important to clarify. ]
I wasn't meaning the Inquisition. The Inquisition has offered me...opportunity. Kaia has offered me opportunity, stability, and trust. I am forever grateful for that. But when I speak of belonging...I'm speaking of you.
[ She has no family any longer, no one to call hers. The closest she has are those from the Fifth Blight and they are scattered, only Leliana, Alistair, and Oghren remaining in positions she can find easily enough. But beyond their shared history and tied miseries, Cullen has given her more than she can say. He has given her something to aspire to. In many ways, Cullen has given her back her life and her happiness.
So why is it still so hard to tell him how he makes her feel? It would not be kind of her to turn it back on him, to ask him what he should want, not when he has made it clear how he wishes her to remain. ]
When the Inquisition is freed of the threat of Corypheus, there are things I wish to do.
[ Seeing Alistair, continuing her research, keeping the Wardens safe. ]
Every day, I consider what will happen when this is over. At first, I simply imagined I would return from whence I came to continue what I was working on. But now-- Imagining my life without you, after all that has happened, is...painful. I care for you, more than I have the courage to say, and it shames me to admit that I still can't seem to find the right thing to say.
[ She closes her eyes tightly, wishing she could simply say it without feeling afraid. But she wants to try. Maker's breath, she wants to try for him. ]
I love you.
no subject
[ It is so difficult to focus right now, to not feel his mind drift off to those thoughts that guide him elsewhere. But he still finds himself hanging on every single word, fighting for his mentality despite the deterioration of it through his withdrawal. Perhaps that is why he had misunderstood. ]
[ But she continues, speaking of what she has considered of her future. Of their future, and Cullen can't help but find relief in knowing that she has pictured one with him there. He doesn't deserve it, not in the slightest, but he is so humbled to know that there is at least a possibility of something. ]
Whatever depth such care runs, know that I would only feel honor. You've no reason to fear my--
[ She says it before he can pry. I love you. Three words he hasn't heard from anyone in so, so very long. And they echo in his mind, almost seem unreal in the midst of his struggle to hold on to reality. But he watches her lips form the words, the way her eyes shut to prepare herself for it, and Cullen's heart swells. His stomach flutters, the rest of him feeling somehow warm and comfortably so. ]
Maker--
[ Cullen's eyes widen, lips parting in bewilderment to hear her say such things. He exhales, and it sounds like shock. He swallows thickly as he scoots forward yet again, taking her hands just a bit closer to him. ]
I love you too.
[ He manages a smile, the words falling from his lips effortlessly because he has wanted to tell her so badly. His hands squeeze hers, despite how weak they are, how much his joints ache. ]
I love you. Neria, I've wanted to say that for so long.
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Neria feels breathless with the words she says, three little ones, and she feels moisture behind her eyes that she has to turn her head down to hide. She feels foolish, even if he holds her hands closer, and she looks up at him with glassy eyes that are wide and she does smile, at last, the seriousness of the subject and her own feelings laid bare. The look he gives her is enough to leave her heart aching painfully, but she almost laughs with how ridiculous she feels, nearly crying over finally being able to say something honest and true. ]
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I-- I'm terrible at saying the things I mean.
[ As much as she hates to let go of his hands, one hand slips out to touch his face, to hold him. Cullen is pale and looks so tired, but his smile is radiant just the same, a patch of sunlight on an otherwise cloudy day. ]
You have made every part of this - me being here, fighting, fixing what I have done - bearable. You have made it wonderful. If we die tomorrow, I need you to know that I am happier with you than I have been in years.
[ She loves him. She knows it. She has known it, and it has not been a denial so much as a slow dragging of her feet to say something so important. Now, now is the best time, and she feels lighter for having said so, for finally being honest with him. ]
I love you, Cullen. I truly love you with all of who I am.
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[ Cullen leans into her touch, smile still as bright as it can be despite the color that has left his face. He lets his forehead rest against hers, noses brushing and his eyes close to simply take this in. Take her in. He reaches to her hands, holding them over his face. ]
I'm... Honored. Truly, I am humbled to know that I have been able to make you feel such happiness. You deserve to be held as high as a man can reach, and...
I promise I will ensure these feelings last until my last breath.
[ Maker, he could listen to her say those words a million times. Cullen exhales with content, hands holding gently to her wrists in hopes of keeping her touch. ]
Know that it is in your company, your care that I have been able to thrive. I swear to you, on my word, that I will never leave your side. As your man, I will make it my life's work to keep you happy, to make you feel as loved as you have made me feel.
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I just want you to be yourself. You've given me so much by simply treating me as an equal, not as someone above you.
[ That he has shared his work space with her, his time and his opinion, without fear of her, without feeling confined by their roles or by titles. That is all she wants. But her heart skips a beat at what he says: to make you feel as loved as you have made me feel. Wordlessly, she nods, her throat threatening to close on itself.
To Cullen, he gets a smile, genuine happiness where there was only worry mere minutes ago. ]
I will go with you wherever your journey takes you, whether that is with the Inquisition or without it. When they put away the sword, I will still be here. No matter what comes, you will not face it alone.
[ She has to say it aloud for the both of them, to confirm what she has said before: she wishes to remain with him, no matter the cost. The things she needs to do, her goals, will not impede on what they can have.
Maker, she feels... Elated. Still afraid, yes, but there is excitement in that, and she feels she might burst from it. ]
This is where I want to be. With you.
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[ And even well after his withdrawal comes to a desirable end, the difficulty of finding time for one another remains high. Though the likelihood of either sharing what has become of the two remains low. Just as Cullen prefers it. Many times, Kaia has pulled him aside, tried to prod and pry, find if her influence had succeeded. And each time, Cullen would wave dismissively or vehemently deny. What Neria and he share is their business, private, and surely not something he wishes to allow to interfere with their work. ]
[ Though, the desire to continue holding up such a strong barrier starts to wear down after some time. Especially when private moments quickly fail. Perhaps Cullen should have made a habit of taking breaks before, maybe then his recruits would not expect him to be available even at the latest hours. Stealing a kiss is as difficult as a couple hours of sleep, and to know that it finally begins to get to him is as terrifying as the notion of taking time away from his duties. ]
[ But Maker, he is only a man. How he has somehow began to realize that nowis beyond him. Cullen loves her, cherishes just standing beside her but it is in that love that has been set on the table between them that he realizes his attraction to her might... Slightly be getting in the way of his productivity. He's ashamed, surely, and Neria may have very likely caught him in the middle of passionate prayer to keep him at bay. When this is all over, he tells himself, it will be well worth it for the both of them. ]
[ Months pass yet again, and so the influence of the Inquisition continues on. There are lulls that the entirety of the Inquisition cherishes if only a little, but each mission is an important press forward. Their nightly meetings at the War Table see no end, and each one could run through an entire evening. All gather around, glowing candlelight illuminating what pieces had been placed upon the board the night before. Josephine is the first to share her reports of missions previously finalized, just as Leliana places new pieces along the map. Cullen awaits for them to finish, hand resting over his sword while he focuses on what might be the most valuable step forward. ]
[ Josephine speaks ]
Inquisitor, we've received additional correspondence from Marquis Mantillon. It appears you've an offer to uphold in the Winter Palace.
[ Kaia's smile is crooked, shoulders shrugging. ]
Because clearly I've gained excellent skill in this ridiculous Game I've been forced to play. What of it now?
[ Cullen's brow raises in turn, silent. He isn't fond of the Winter Palace, certainly not of Orlais either. The Game Orlesians play has never been interesting to him, beautiful as Orlais may be. But he can't help but find brief interest when Josephine begins to fully read the letter sent from the Marquis. An easy task, a simple order to a few of their troops to defend an attack. Neria and he could certainly make short work of the matter. ]
[ His neck cranes as he peeks over Josephine's shoulder, desperately trying (and likely failing) to hide that he reads over the large ruffles that decorate her arms. Brow still perked, he looked over to Neria, still silent, in a wordless type of body language where he hopes she is as intrigued as he is. ]
[ At least... In the sense that this might be their first opportunity in some time to find some privacy. His eyes lock on her, Josephine's words drowning out while she discusses what she might be able to do in the form of utilizing favors. His gaze looks to her in a way that says "Perhaps we might... You know?" ]
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WRONG JOURNAL, WOOPS
LMAO I WAS SO CONFUSED
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