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Enansal was desperate for a nap, more so than usual. Ever since her forces had begun their siege upon Adamant Fortress, she felt as if she had been in non-stop motion. From pushing her way through the fortress itself to fighting in the Fade, every inch of her body begged for collapse. If it were not for her role as the Inquisitor, she would have had few qualms about simply seeking out the nearest quiet corner and passing out. As it stood, however, she was left with no choice to suffer through her own exhaustion and sore muscles. There was still plenty of work to do.
She knelt down next to an older human man who was being fretted over by an elven woman barely older than she. Both wore Grey Warden armor, and the older man seemed to have sustained a deep gouge from a shade’s sharp claws.
“May I?” Enansal asked softly.
The elf looked to her with wide eyes and nodded. Slowly, she moved her bloodied hands away from the worst of the man’s wounds. Enansal then reached forward and held her hands carefully above the gaping wound and focused her magic into it, a soft blue aura surrounding the afflicted area. Slowly but surely, the bleeding slowed and the skin began to knit back together. Once the damage was repaired, Enansal leaned back on her haunches, letting out a soft breath of exertion.
“There,” she said, trying not to sound as drained as she felt. “Good as new.”
“Thank you, Inquisitor,” the other woman said as her shoulders slumped in relief.
“It was the least I could do,” Enansal assured.
“Well… Yes, thank you for healing him, but also… Just… Thank you for giving us another chance.”
Enansal blinked in surprise and then her expression shifted into a soft, sympathetic smile. She reached out and placed a gentle hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “Of course. I could never fault an entire organization for the misguided decisions of a select few. And while I am well aware that Corypheus’s influence is dangerous, I think the Inquisition needs all the help it can get right now.”
“Thank you,” she repeated and then stooped down to help her companion back to his feet.
As the two headed off, Enansal finally turned to look at the potion bottles hanging from her belt. She sighed a little as she found that most of the bottles were empty and the ones that held liquid were red in color and not the blue she was searching for. She pushed herself to her feet, still ignoring the way her body protested with the motion, and went off in search of someone that might have lyrium potions to spare.
Along the way, she passed by The Iron Bull helping an injured Inquisition soldier to the nearest healer’s tent.
“Hey, Boss, the Commander’s looking for you,” he commented, his tone oddly amused.
Enansal grimaced a little. Cullen had likely been worried out of his mind over the course of the last couple of hours. “Thanks for the heads up, Bull.”
He nodded in acknowledgement and continued on his way.
With a heavy sigh, Enansal redirected her own course to head towards where she assumed she would be more likely to find Cullen. She exited the courtyard and entered one of the many towers within the fortress, approaching the nearest flight of stairs so that she could make her way up to the parapets. She had taken no more than three stairs when she heard hurried footsteps approaching from above. She moved to the side closest to the outer wall, pressing herself flat against the stone to make room for the approaching newcomer. As the footsteps came closer, she saw the very man that she had been searching for.
“Nan…” Cullen breathed, like he hardly dared to hope she actually stood before him.
She offered him a faint smile and replied in a soft voice, “Hey.”
He closed the distance between them, almost taking the stairs two at a time, and pulled her into a tight embrace. It was only then that Enansal realized that Cullen was shaking.
“Cullen,” she started, but was cut off by his mouth crashing against hers.
In comparison to their usual kisses, this felt desperate. Cullen pressed his lips against hers over and over again, whispering her name in repetition, a combination of a mantra and a prayer. He pressed his full weight against her, her back digging into the stone behind her as his still-shaking hands wrapped around her waist. After what seemed to be an eternity, Cullen pulled away just enough to plant a firm kiss to her brow.
“Maker, I almost lost you…” he breathed.
“Isn’t that every day with me?” she asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
Cullen looked absolutely stricken when his gaze met hers. Enansal lifted her hands in a surrendering gesture.
“Sorry… Now’s probably not a good time for jokes…”
Cullen sighed and shook his head a little. “No, it’s… You do have a point. I apologize for reacting the way I did. I…”
Enansal shook her head in response and pushed herself up onto her tiptoes to plant a gentle kiss against his cheek. “No, it means the world to me that you care so much.”
“Of course I care. Enansal, I love you.”
“I love you, too. Very much. I’m sorry to worry you.”
Cullen sighed again and pulled her into an embrace. “It wasn’t your fault… None of us could have anticipated what happened here tonight.”
She felt a twinge of guilt but tried to push past it. “No… No, we couldn’t.”
Silence fell between the two of them for a long time, and Enansal was more than content to let Cullen hold her for a while yet. But both of them had troops to attend to, and it would be at least another hour or so before they could have a chance to finally relax. She sighed softly and pulled away from Cullen.
“We still have a lot of work to do,” she said.
“I know.”
“I need more lyrium potions if I’m to continue healing the wounded,” she added. “That’s what I was looking for before I ran into you.”
He nodded. “There should be an alchemist upstairs and plenty more soldiers to tend to.”
“Alright.” She straightened her posture and linked her arm with his. “Lead the way, Commander.”