It had been three days since they disappeared into the Fade. Cullen tore himself away from the work waiting for him in the Command Tent to check on the rift. He hadn't gone back to it since the end of the battle, and a strange feeling was nagging at him to go to it. Having felt like he hadn't slept since before they broke through the gates of Adamant due to the traumatizing nightmare that embedded itself at the forefront of his mind, he slowly felt he was losing a grip on the situation. When his mind had gone blank trying to respond to a missive, he knew he needed a break and gave in to whatever was compelling him to the rift.
Walking briskly helped to dry the lather he somehow worked up simply standing over his work all day. The dry gritty breeze was refreshing, and he wondered at why he hadn't done this sooner, but there had just been so much to do. Now and then his eyes would drift skyward in search of the dark silhouette of the dragon coming to finish the job, but thankfully all he saw were that of their ravens. Around him, the camp was bustling as the soldiers were put to work gathering supplies to repair the fortress, as well as building temporary fortifications. The wounded were still healing and the dead had been burned. The Wardens were still being held as prisoners, helping Leliana's agents piece together the events leading up to Erimond's takeover.
Arriving in the central courtyard, the sickly green hole in the veil reflected light and images like a warped mirror. Several Templars and archers stood at the ready waiting for any demons, while a few mages, including Solas and Sorin, conversed in safety behind them. Strange sounds were emanating from the rift, causing them all to shift uncomfortably. Pausing trying to listen to what they could be hearing, he swore it sounded like voices raised in alarm and fighting.
Pulling his sword, he commanded, "Stand at the ready!" Immediately, the soldiers obeyed leveling their weapons at the center of the yard. The mages walked swiftly over to him, but he never took his eyes off the rift, "How long have these sounds persisted?"
"An hour or two, but nothing has appeared," Solas reported. "We think it may just be another attempt of the large demon to call others to the rift."
A wave of rage washed over him, "I should've been notified the moment they started!" The apostate began protesting that they had been hearing various forms of it, but Cullen didn't want his excuses. "I want reinforcements brought here immediately! You there, go find Knight-Captain Henley and tell him to send a small detachment with as many Templars as he can spare," he barked at one of the archers who ran off. The mages fell in beside him grabbing their staffs off their backs.
"Do the sounds seem to be getting louder to the rest of you?" Sorin asked, and as Cullen listened, they certainly were. Gradually, the muffled sounds turned into voices and the thuds sounded like offensive spells hitting their mark.
"Something is coming through," there was a slight tinge of fear in Solas' tone as he strengthened the wards around the rift. "Sorin, if it is indeed the demon, I'll need your help." After his words, Cullen ordered the Templars to ready their divine powers against whatever was coming through, and for the next few minutes, everyone held their breath waiting. The creak of bowstrings and the gentle chime of metal was all that his mind allowed him to register as his eyes awaited confirmation of the noises coming from within the Fade.
Suddenly, the rift brightened and a man's yell was heard as he was thrown through the tear. Landing and skidding to a halt, Varric, followed quickly by Stroud, clawed up on their feet, "Shit! Don't shoot, it's us!"
Cullen rushed forward, "Where are the others?"
"They are coming, at least I hope they're coming," the dwarf supplied, "there's a big ass demon on the other side!"
"We know," he kept his eyes trained on the portal before him anxiously.
"No, you don't, Curly!" His voice was hoarse and strained breaking his gaze away to look at the man. Varric's expression held one he'd seen in soldiers who had seen too much. Having already seen more than his fair share of unbelievable and frightening things, the dwarf's reaction spoke volumes of the demon just across the Veil. The fear in his eyes made him shiver, "The demon calls itself Nightmare, and it is certainly that."
"Fasta Vass!" Dorian flew out next and straight into Cullen. The mage was coated in demon bile and the stench accosted his senses. The Commander steadied him, "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Many thanks for the assistance, for the real nightmare would've been breaking this flawless face on the stone." Dorian groaned holding a hand around his ribs.
As he bent over his arm, Cullen saw the back of his robes and armor had been viciously slashed open, "He's wounded! Tend to him," he looked to the healers who were taking shelter. They quickly ran over and guided him to a safe distance. He eyed Varric and Stroud seeing they too bore many signs of battle from within the Fade, "Go with them, we'll get others!"
As they left, Sorin and Solas once again flanked the Commander in front of the rift. A massive beastly roar echoed out from it accompanied by more human-like sounds. Poking out through the illuminated green tear, two tarnished sets of armor slowly passed through it. The warriors' backsides were the first part he saw, watching them both pulling something with them. As Cullen went to help, Solas held him back explaining to him that their bodies were transitioning between the Fade and Waking World and to touch them could cause unknown harm. Barely able to restrain himself, they watched as they paused as if waiting for something, before frantically hulling their limp charges through the rift with them.
The bodies of Blackwall and Cassandra were littered with magical burn marks, no doubt from being beaten by demons for the past few days. Dirt and grime were smudged across their faces just like the other three who previously crossed the Veil. Extremely exhausted, the two panted and gasped for air along with the two mages sprawled on the ground. With a jolt of green magic, the Inquisitor perked up for a minute as the anchor was drawn to the rift. She cried out as she tried to lift herself up to seal it, but she struggled against her own fatigue. Able to assist her now, Cullen got behind to support her body. Evelyn rested her back on him and he steadied her arm as the mark exploded with energy. The vibrations of such power made its way up his arm, and he fought the urge to push her arm away.
The Inquisitor whimpered as her body was weakening, pushing against him for strength. "I can't…" She faintly cried, but before he could respond, Sorin shoved Cullen away to hold her.
"I've got you E! Take what you need just as you did at the Breach!" With another nudge and pointed look, the Commander let go but didn't retreat away from them. With a gasp, Evelyn drew from his mana and sealed the rift before both collapsed on the sandy stone. A loud thunderous clap resounded through the fortress as it shut and everyone around the rift relaxed.
Peering over at the Knight-Enchanters, Evelyn had her forehead to Sorin's. The two conversed too quietly for him to hear, and despite his inclination to now shove Sorin away, he looked towards the others. Hawke was lying down trying to catch his breath, as lyrium was brought over to him. Blackwall took a knee, spitting some blood onto the ground while cursing the demon and Cassandra sat reclining her head back with her eyes closed and pointed to the sky. Solas was checking on them but they seemed to just want space to breathe and decompress.
"Commander," his head spun back to meet the soft voice which called to him. She was parting from Sorin, but he was able to get a better look at her condition as she dropped her helmet to the ground. The golden sheen of her Phoenix armor looked like it aged a century just after one usage, having served its purpose. The only blood he saw of hers looked to be on her legs from minor lacerations, the rest was black demon blood. There were a few scrapes on her chin and cheek, but he was relieved to see that she was whole and intact for once.
"Inquisitor, it is good to have you back. Are you in need of a healer?" Even though they conversed politely, there was a deep look in their gaze. It was the kind that blocked out all else as if they were alone. From behind her Sorin sat up, and he saw him roll his eyes and shake his head at them.
"No, poor Dorian had his hands full with this crew." She seemed to appraise his health as well, which was only made easier without his armor. "How did we fare after the battle?"
He blinked a few times with a snort, "There is time enough for that after you rest and clean up. Leliana and I have the situation in hand for a few more hours, I assure you. Though with the rift sealed, we can all breathe easier now." He stood from his crouched position, helping both she and Sorin up, though he hooked his arm with hers to help her walk.
There was a slight tremble in the hands that gripped onto his forearm. "Food and water are what we need. It's been days…" Cullen quickly sent another soldier to fetch more food and water for the group, as everyone around them offered up their canteens and anything they had lying around. It wasn't much but at least the group received some much-needed hydration.
"We should get you all back to camp if you're able?"
"I believe we can. None of us are that wounded, we are just tired and need food." Evelyn was swaying as if she were at sea and she was fighting to keep her eyes open. That was enough for him to unstrap her dagger-like pauldrons, leaving them with her sharp feathery helmet, before bending to scoop her up. Her arms went reflexively around his neck and her head fell to his shoulder. The Inquisitor sighed heavily as if the weight of the world had lifted from her for a moment in the safety of his embrace. Just as he was about to ask for volunteers with strong backs to help with the others Henley and Owayne came bounding around the corner with the reinforcements he had asked for.
Seeing his sister, Owayne quickly cupped her face pressing a kiss to her forehead. Seeing she was in good hands, he all but tackled the Seeker, who groaned grumpily too exhausted to do anything but submit to his fussing. With the help of the soldiers, they carried the starved group back to the tents where the quartermaster had prepared a table of food for them. They drank and ate a bit, letting their first food in three days settle in their empty stomachs before heading off to change out of their soiled armor and clothing. With the whole inner circle on hand now, Ilara took Evelyn and Cassandra in to their tent help them dress and heal any more wounds that had gone forgotten.
While he waited, he attended to some matters in the Command Tent but kept a trained eye on her tent. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he knew now was not the time. Yet, all he wanted to do since speaking with Owayne last night was to be with her. His own ailments had been pushed aside as all his focus was on her return, and she was a mere few yards away in her tent. Cassandra was the first to emerge from their tent, returning to the refreshments wearing a simple blouse and pants. Ilara followed shortly after, but another few minutes passed and Evelyn had still not come out. As the others were occupied over at the food, he quickly made his way over to her tent.
He didn't bother to announce his entrance, wanting to get in before the others saw. His sudden appearance startled the half-naked woman inside who quickly grabbed at a garment on the ground to partially cover her exposed upper body at the unexpected visitor. Turning angrily to see who her intruder was, she let out a long sigh seeing him, still holding the fabric up over her breasts with an arm.
"Fucking balls Cullen, you scared the shit out of me!" It dawned on him that after the horrors she must've lived through the last few days, startling her was not the smartest thing to do. There was dark discoloration about her pale form from no doubt taking a beating during the battle and then within the Fade. A dirty rag hung from the side of the wash basin stained black and red. She looked about the tent awkwardly waiting for him to explain himself, growing increasingly impatient in proper Evelyn fashion by the second. With a huff, she threw the shirt on the floor since she was still wearing a breast band, placing her hand on her hips becoming unsure of how she wanted to react.
With slow steps, she watched with wide eyes as he came to stand directly before her. He pulled a glove off and his calloused hand reached out to touch her beautiful face, careful to avoid the scrapes. She didn't make any attempt to stop it, and he gently held her chin with his thumb and finger. At contact, her eyes fluttered shut briefly as her hand came up to cover his own. Nuzzling into his hand, he could see her breaths were relaxed and deep while her glassy eyes still looked at him to say something.
"I thought I had lost you." It was quiet, but finally, he was able to articulate, albeit hoarsely, his appearance.
"So did I for a bit, but you know I always come back. I'm stubborn like that." They stared at each other for a long moment before he pushed his hand back through her hair, holding the back of her head. "Cullen, I'm sorry--"
"Shh, I don't want to talk about it now." With care, he brought her to him closing the distance between their bodies, as she welcomed the advance bringing her arms up around his neck. Despite the warm desert air, he felt goosebumps prickle up her arms at his touch. Their noses and foreheads grazed each other gently as he watched her eyelids become heavy. The pressure pulling him down towards her gave him all the permission he needed to let go of his tight restraint.
The sorely missed taste of her lips brought back a swelling of warmth to his heart. For months, he felt as if he had been frozen, numb to everything, but with one kiss she thawed his emotions breathing life back into him. Soon, the slow cautious kisses devolved into deeper hungrier ones. One of his hands dropped to the small of her naked back as she pulled him as close as possible by grabbing the sides of his airy shirt. She was slightly on her toes stretched up against him, melting into him. Taking a step back, he sat when his knees hit her cot. Without parting, she smoothly climbed atop his lap tucking her legs up on either side of his. Cullen could feel a smile spreading on her lips and wet tears on her cheeks, but he refused to surrender her lips back to her.
Despite his attempt, Evelyn pulled back taking his hand from her. His eyes watched transfixed as she brought it up her torso, and under her breast band. Releasing his hand, it naturally glided across her left breast and she watched him closely waiting for something…
"Is that…?" Cullen grabbed the small timeworn coin that rested against her moist skin. A small smile twitched at his scared lip, but it retreated when the tent flaps opened unexpectedly before he could retract his hand.
"Sweet Maker!" Cassandra walked in, quickly adverting her gaze. Cullen blushed before sliding his fingers clutching the coin out from her small clothes. Her voice lowered to a bit of a harsh whisper, as she searched for something in her belongings, "You two are going to do this now?!"
Evelyn's voice was froggy, but her stare conveyed her wish for privacy, "Cass..."
Having found what she came for, she simply said, "I apologize for the interruption." She eyed both of them as she backed out of the tent, adding one last sentiment, pointing to him sternly, "Watch her neck."
"Out!" He growled, having never taken that tone with the Seeker before - he'd probably regret it later. Turning back to Evelyn, she was laughing silently to herself, and he couldn't help but realize how long it had been since he'd seen her do that. "Maker's breath, am I ever going to live that down?"
"She was beside herself when she first saw it in South Reach, but then again, she was having a rough morning after my brother sent her sappy poetry."
"And yet, I'm the one constantly berated?"
"My brother is too stupid to care if he's made fun of. He did get the girl after all." He agreed with an unamused nod, before looking back down at the coin. Her voice was soft and melodic with her Marcher accent, "I told you I'd keep it safe, and now I return it to you." She stroked his hair, "That coin has literally been to the Void and back, it belongs in the Chanty as a holy relic."
He chuckled lightly, "All things considered, I think I'd like to keep it for a while longer. Corypheus isn't dead yet." They shared a knowing look before her grumbling stomach gurgled like a Rage demon. He groaned leaning down and straining his sore muscles trying to grab her clean shirt, "Come on, you need fed. Your initials are a constant reminder of it." He produced the monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket, also returning it to her.
Still seated on his lap as she pulled the short-sleeved blouse over her head, she couldn't help the growing smile on her face, "I missed this. I missed you." Despite the smile, he could see her eyes becoming heavy and glassy again, and leaned forward capturing her lips knowing exactly how she was feeling. Her hands cupped his face desperately during the slow sorrowful kisses, reflecting on the unresolved issues that still loomed between them. After another minute, they parted silently, walking over to the tent flaps, but before they left she stopped him, "Um, this might look suspicious."
He sighed giving it a moment of thought, "We could've been doing anything in here, who are they to say for sure."
"You have a point," she seemed to be thinking it through, but then her stomach growled again. "Ah, fuck it, there are already rumors anyway. Let's go."
Emerging into the light, they made their way over to their private mess tent. Looking at the spread, it was the best food they could afford to break out in celebration of victory and for the team that had gone days without food. As they got closer, Evelyn took the last few strides to the table quicker than he, eager to get her hands on a pickle, even pushing her brother out of the way to poach it before he could. Spinning in victory back towards him, she bit it as if she hadn't eaten one in years.
The chatter around the table was lively enough for him to feel comfortable speaking unguardedly to her, "Three days with no food and you're ready to fight your brother for a pickle?" They shared a small laugh, as she shrugged, "You are something, Trevelyan." Her radiant smile fought through the layers of their conflict to bathe him in its splendor at the usage of her surname. He struggled with himself, wanting nothing more than to grab and kiss her again, but instead, he passed her a plate so she could pile on the food.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Hawke's gaze watching them. His shifty eyes had black bags under them as he sat hunched over beside the fire before Varric joined him. Though the dwarf engaged him in conversation - at least he thought so, as Varric's back was to him - Garret's eyes were still casually observing them. Squeezing in between the Trevelyan siblings, he grabbed himself a roll of bread unable to remember the last time he ate since his stomach had been too upset after the night terror. His hand hovered at the small of her back, then gently rested on it as he leaned over the table. Cullen felt her eyes on him, but he continued with his task, pretending to be ignorant of her gaze. His closeness allowed her to discreetly slip an arm around his lower back as well to gently massage circles into it. With no one, but the Champion to see the display, he hoped it was both a subtle and telling sign to Garret to back off. He hadn't had the chance to discuss him with Evelyn yet, but he fought against his treacherous mind recounting his nightmare of them against what he knew of Evelyn's character. Ignoring the chaos of his mind to look about, everyone was in a cheerful yet somber mood. The mission was a success, the rift was sealed, and the Inquisitor and her team were back safe.
"Excuse me, Commander," Solas cleared his throat eyeing his arm on the Inquisitor, "I need to examine the Inquisitor's mark." Trying to suppress the flush of his cheeks at the sudden intrusion, he simply replied with an innocent 'oh,' as if he hadn't known he had done it. Evelyn was biting her cheek trying not to smile at his reaction as she flipped her hand over for him to look at. Seeing the apostate's appearance, Leliana and the other four mages all convened around them to hear his assessment. After a few moments, he spoke, "Your mana fights the infection of the magic of the anchor. The veins have turned black because your fire has burned its advance up your arm."
Evelyn looked at him with hope, "So, it's not spreading, that's just scarring or discoloration?"
Suddenly the elf looked a bit uncomfortable, "No, I do think it is damaging your muscles and bone detrimentally."
Ilara chimed in, "Can we counter the damage? Rebuild what she loses with each use?" Vivienne seconded her need to know if there was another recourse other than the acceptance that her limb was deteriorating.
Solas sighed heavily, "I'm not sure. This magic was not meant for a human, or mortal for that matter it would seem, to wield."
As options were discussed, he turned his attention to Evelyn, who was staring off lost in thought. It was not what she wanted to hear, despite having even admitted to Arl Tegan that she suspected the mark would kill her. Part of her had to have held out hope that it could be removed or that the collective minds of the mages could come up with a treatment for its spread.
"If we can do nothing to slow the spread of the anchor's magic, can we stop Evie's from attacking it when it spreads? Would that help stop her hand and arm's deterioration?" Dorian asked. Solas' face held a sour expression, and the more they questioned, the less hope he had to offer. One by one he watched their expressions deflate in defeat as the conversation came to a halt.
Picking her head up and holding it high, she spoke with a practiced serenity, "Thank you all for your concern and efforts. We can discuss this later when we've all had some rest." As she walked through them, she patted some shoulders in passing, never stopping until she was behind the canvas of her tent. There was a despair in some of her companion's faces as if they had failed her. One by one they turned away heading for their respective tents. Owayne accompanied Cassandra, no doubt believing his sister needed some cheering up, and Cullen had to stop himself from following them in. Instead, he went back to work.
After an hour or two of quiet and dozens of reports indicating an increase in Red Templar activity in the Emerald Graves and Emprise du Lion, Evelyn emerged from her tent. She walked over to the fire waving a hand at it making it dance, before noticing him staring at her. Walking over to him quietly on the sand, she greeted him with a wan smile. Viewing the map and pieces placed about, he watched her finger the area of Orlais he had just been focusing on.
"With the threat of the rift gone, I issued orders for the army to pack up and head out in two days. The Trevelyan cavalry will secure the road back through Orlais for us. Despite the end of the civil war, a new enemy, the Freemen of the Dales, has emerged to take back Orlais for the people, so they say."
The Inquisitor looked up in thought, "There was a man who had sent word a while ago about them. Fairbanks, I believe that was his name. We should contact him immediately and set up a meeting to find out what he knows." She sighed heavily, "So much for some time off."
"Speaking of," Cullen tilted his head to look into her chocolaty eyes, "can't sleep?"
"I'd like to do nothing more than that, but… I fear the nightmares." The Inquisitor hugged herself and rubbed her arms.
He couldn't help but snort a small laugh, "You and me both." He groaned wiping a hand down his face before placing both hands on the table. For the next few minutes, he summarized the last few days of the Nightmare demon's effect on their people and what they were trying to do to bring them home.
"We lived our nightmares. If it wasn't for the spirit that guided us through, we would have been separated and picked off by Nightmare." He shivered at her words, thinking back to his night terror, imagining what it would've been like if his other senses were engaged. Her eyes grew distant, and though he wanted to hear more, she needed rest. There was a heaviness to her brow, like she was in pain and her yawns were contagious.
Catching her gaze, he walked around the table to take her hand, "You need rest, come on. We can speak of it after you've rested." Still grasping her hand gently, he began to walk in the direction of his tent, but she tugged his arm making him turn back to her.
"Only if you plan on sleeping as well?" A pointed look told him he better agree, and he consented with a nod hoping her presence at night once again would be enough to ward away the dark - for them both. Once inside, she stood back by the entrance as he pushed the two cots together, explaining that Rylen wasn't expected back until morning. Henley was taking the day shift and Rylen the night so the former could spend his evenings with Ilara when she was off-duty.
When the cots were ready, the two paused looking down at them as if they had never laid together before. The uncertainty only lasted a moment before she spun grabbing him by the shirt to pull him down with her. Their combined weight instantly collapsed the cots, shooting a fine dusting of sand out to the side. Thankfully the light padded bedroll helped cushion their fall, but when he looked over to make sure she was alright, she was quietly chuckling. Smiling over at her and shaking his head, he suddenly realized why he needed her. She lived in the moment, something that was hard for him to do always trying to plan ahead as if his life were a game of chess or stuck in his troubled past. He never simply enjoyed the present, and something as simple as her laughter after falling on their cots, made him realize this. If he were alone, he would've got up and cleaned it up, thinking that come morning or a pending emergency he didn't want his tent in such a state. But, her firm grip on his arm and laughter made him not care about anything beyond her smile.
"Oops," was all she whispered after calming down. Evelyn ran her fingers through her long hair, after shaking out her braid.
"I'm too tired to adequately make fun of you, Trevelyan," he opened his arms as she scooted over into his embrace. Even though they were still completely dressed, the Fade beckoned to them uncaring of their attire. Their leather boots kicked together with soft thuds as they wove their legs together. Her spicy-sweet scent floated about, coaxing deep relaxing breaths out of him.
She faced him looking up at him, stroking a finger along his jawline, "I appreciate that, though I fear exhausted or not, I still would've done it." Evelyn hummed a chuckle again, but despite the levity of their reconciliation their eyes were fighting to open.
Pulling her closer, before he fell asleep, he spoke into her hair, "I love you, Trevelyan."
Nuzzling up into his chin, he was awake just long enough to hear, "I love you more, Rutherford." In the safety of each other's arms, both slept soundly for the first time in days. He had missed the peace that her presence produced, as if he were a child again unable to sleep without his favorite toy. Except she was a living breathing woman who had him at her mercy. Having been without her for so long, this time he would not let her go again at any cost.