Cullen (
howtoactfereldan) wrote2016-09-22 07:07 pm
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He could not say how long he spent in the Arbor Wilds. Nor could he say how long he spent away from their forward camp, fighting his way through to the gates of the temple. Days, certainly. At least two. Perhaps three. Bolting down potions, to lessen the effect the red templars had on him and to help him stay awake. The potions didn't provide for witnessing the sight of a few of his ruined brothers and sisters, hearing the sound of more of them hissing his name, before Cullen and his men cut them down.
A few bad gashes, here and there. (More scars for the collection.) His right side feels like one giant bruise. It was not clear why Corypheus quit the field until Leliana's agents made it in, and found Samson, and discovered the empty well. And the shattered eluvian.
Cullen was already swatting away healers -- too many of his soldiers were worse off, and he was beyond not in the mood for magic -- when word came: Charter had concluded that the Inquisitor's party, likely in the company of Morrigan, went through the eluvian. Probably back to Skyhold.
Cullen, in Leliana's company, was examining the remnants of the bodies of the Grey Wardens when confirmation of Charter's theory arrived.
Less than an hour later, bruises and all, Cullen was on a horse headed north to the next available station to swap out his mount and keep riding. Corypheus fled the field; there's no reason he wouldn't go after Skyhold; and even if he didn't Cullen needs to know what happened --
Shadows are long, and the mountains reflecting blue and gold light, when the horn sounds and Cullen rides through the sally port. A stablehand is there, to lead the horse to Master Dennet. He's not sure how his legs are holding him up, but he's not going to stop to find out. The war room, first, and then if the Inquisitor isn't there --
A few bad gashes, here and there. (More scars for the collection.) His right side feels like one giant bruise. It was not clear why Corypheus quit the field until Leliana's agents made it in, and found Samson, and discovered the empty well. And the shattered eluvian.
Cullen was already swatting away healers -- too many of his soldiers were worse off, and he was beyond not in the mood for magic -- when word came: Charter had concluded that the Inquisitor's party, likely in the company of Morrigan, went through the eluvian. Probably back to Skyhold.
Cullen, in Leliana's company, was examining the remnants of the bodies of the Grey Wardens when confirmation of Charter's theory arrived.
Less than an hour later, bruises and all, Cullen was on a horse headed north to the next available station to swap out his mount and keep riding. Corypheus fled the field; there's no reason he wouldn't go after Skyhold; and even if he didn't Cullen needs to know what happened --
Shadows are long, and the mountains reflecting blue and gold light, when the horn sounds and Cullen rides through the sally port. A stablehand is there, to lead the horse to Master Dennet. He's not sure how his legs are holding him up, but he's not going to stop to find out. The war room, first, and then if the Inquisitor isn't there --
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"See, that's when I take a second piece of paper, coat it in wax, and fold a tiny umbrella to hold over the badge," he says. "Forget keeping the rain off myself. The badge is what's really important."
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(It's not that his voice is flat -- more like he's reading lines for someone else's audition.)
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Carefully, he settles a hand on Cullen's back.
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(He just -- didn't want to be alone with it. Even if he had to think about it, if someone else was near -- )
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"I said I'd stay."
Low.
"When have I not said that?"
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A breath.
"But I wanted to. It's easier here. I meant that."
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"All right."
(Some tension's left him.)
"Good."
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His hand moves to Cullen's shoulder.
"Come here?"
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(That's not a concern, apparently.)
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"Your welfare's my concern," he murmurs. "All right?"
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"Because it's easier here." It's a question.
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His eyes drift closed. He's not tired; it's just -- easier, too, to do that.
"You, ah." His voice turns a bit sheepish. "Likely remember my drunken ramblings better than I do. That one night. But..." (Admitting it again, while sober, is proving more difficult.) "I know I'm not there, when you're around."
I know I'm safe.
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"Well." He taps a finger thoughtfully on Alistair's chest. Wry, amused, quiet: "As long as it's a matter of self-interest, I suppose I'll allow it."
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He opens his eyes, watches the leaves stir above them.
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"Just not your badge."
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"Out of curiosity," he says, "what would it take to earn a proper badge?"
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"You are cruel."
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