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Imryll was rarely up before sunrise. If she were, it’s because she couldn’t sleep. A sunless sky usually drove weariness to her bones, but not that particular morning.
She loaded her medical basket with bandages, some health poultices and freshly-made salves. She made her way across the courtyard, dewy grass crunching beneath her slippers. It’s chillier in the morning, she realized, chastising herself for not bringing her shawl.
The infirmary would be quiet at this hour, but instead, it emanated sounds of commotion and an orange glow from lanterns. Imryll pushed the heavy door forward and was met with a buzzing crowd of healers and wounded soldiers.
A full infirmary always brought a wave of anxiety to Imryll. It was a silly thought - but that anxiety was rooted in guilt that it was her fault these soldiers were injured. Logically, they knew of the dangers when enlisting, and logically they knew what fighting for the Inquisition entailed.
And there was Cullen, who'd taken a terrible blow at the Shrine of Dumat.
That specific worry etched a special kind of fear in her chest, one she didn't want to think on yet.
If he had died from his injuries she would know by now, right?
But alas. The mind sometimes was a terrible thing.
And with that, Imryll somehow felt her presence was required there. The surgeon, Fiona’s healers and Vivienne had all assured her the day before that all she needed to do was rest. But she’s slept for a day straight now. The glugginess from sleep and anxiety only rendered her restless.
Imryll made her way through the maze of healers and volunteers, scoping the first floor for the surgeon. Surely, she’d need help. Imryll glanced at the rows of bedrolls placed on either side of the room, wincing at the sight of exhausted and injured people and pretending she wasn't seeking out Cullen. Haven’s fall had been worse, but the sight of it all twisted into guilt in her stomach.
With no sign of the surgeon (or Cullen) on the first floor, she made her way up the stairs, nearly bumping into a frazzled young Circle mage carrying a tray of antiseptic.
The second floor seemed quieter, Imryll thought, as she softened her footsteps. Usually, the second floor was reserved for those in critical condition, or any that needed overnight watch. The quiet gave her hope that nobody was gravely injured.
She moved to open the door, when the sound of a conversation stopped her in her tracks.
“You must rest. Your troops will survive one day with a substitute.”
“Lieutenant Yvonne is down there with a sprained knee. It’ll have to be her substitute, Corinth, and I admire the lad, but he’s not very-”
“Oh for Maker’s sake, Cullen,” Cassandra huffed, “They won’t all fall over the mountain if you’re not there.”
So he was all right, thank Mythal. Imryll felt her heart thud.
“It’s not just the troops. The Shrine of Dumat mission has left a hefty stack of unfinished reports,” Cullen argued.
Imryll heard Cassandra huff again.
“I think Leliana will understand that you can barely stand from your injuries.”
“It’s just bruised ribs! I have no fracture!”
“That’s because one of the healers managed to fix it before it became one!”
“I’m sure if I just sit down in my office-”
“Oh forget this,” Cassandra groaned, “I’m getting the surgeon to tell you exactly what you need to do, and maybe you’ll listen to her.”
Imryll quickly backed from the door as Cassandra’s footsteps approached. The door swung open as Imryll pressed herself against the wall behind it, praying to go unnoticed.
“Inquisitor?”
Imryll sucked in a breath.
So that didn’t work.
“I was worried about all the extra hours the healers are putting in,” she replied, stepping forward. She feigned stretching her neck to peek behind the door to see…
“There’s nothing to be worried about, Josephine heard your concerns and made sure they’re being paid extra for the work,” Cassandra replied.
“Ahh,” Imryll said, shuffling her feet, “Um. But an extra hand is always needed. I’ll be willing.”
Cassandra shrugged.
“You’ve hardly been back from the mission, I assure you that you can rest. We have it handled.”
Imryll bit her lip.
“I’m rested, it’s just that, I feel I should be here, helping. It’d be good for the soldiers to see their Inquisitor lending a hand.”
“Just as stubborn as him,” Cassandra chuckled.
Imryll felt her cheeks redden.
“Huh?”
Cassandra shrugged off her amused look.
“Nothing,” she attempted to say plainly, “You know what? Maybe you can talk some sense into Cullen over there. But seeing as neither of you want to rest after a harrowing mission, I doubt you’d get anywhere.”
Before Imryll could respond, Cassandra jogged down the stairs. She sighed, straightened the basket in her hand and for a moment contemplated to follow Cassandra downstairs.
But...Cullen.
That damn shemlen.
She knocked softly against the ajar door.
“Who is it?” a weary voice asked.
She took a deep breath.
“Imryll.”
“Oh,” Cullen said, a sudden change in tone, “Come in, please.”
Imryll pushed the door open, revealing Cullen sitting on a bedroll in the corner. He looked worse for wear, but infinitely better than how she’d last seen him on the way back. His torso had been bandaged, his face littered with fading bruises. His curly hair fell in messy wisps against his face.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
He attempted to straighten himself against the wall, wincing as he pushed himself to sit properly.
“I’m all right,” he replied, tightness in his voice. “You should be resting.”
Imryll stepped forward approached him, asking for silent permission to. He nodded.
“I’ve rested enough, I think,” she said, placing the basket on the foot of his bedroll. “I want to help.”
Cullen suppressed a groan before turning to face her.
“You don’t need to,” he said, failing at hiding the pain, “I can sit up.”
He winced again from his second attempt at pushing himself upright.
“Cullen,” she continued, “You were badly injured. You were so pale on the way back from the Shrine of Dumat.”
“Nothing I can’t shake off,” he insisted, “Perhaps I can’t do drills but I can finish reports. I don’t want to be without use, I can’t just-”
“Cullen.”
He fell quiet and caught her eye. Something in his face softened.
“If you don’t rest and take care of your injury, it’ll get worse,” she said, “And then you’ll really be of no use.”
“I-,” he began, before finally letting himself fall back against his pillow. He read her face, seriousness of her concern finally dawning on him.
“Truthfully, I’m in a lot of pain,” he admitted, breathing heavily.
Imryll patted the empty space by his side.
“May I sit here?”
Cullen shifted his position to face her.
“Of course,” he said eagerly.
Imryll watched Cullen’s cheeks flush as she sat down.
“If you would like, I can help ease the pain,” she suggested, “The injury will get better with rest and salves, but temporary pain relief could be good.”
“How?” Cullen asked, struggling to lift himself by his elbows.
“I could do a healing spell if it’s all right with you,” she said.
“You d-don’t need to,” he said, “It’s a lot to ask.”
“It’s not. I want to,” she replied, turning red at her own words. She looked down at her hand, realizing how close it was to his.
A quiet moment passed before Cullen finally said, “All right.”
Imryll shot him a warm smile that he returned. It did nothing to slow down her racing heart.
"I'm sorry, but you'd have to sit up a bit," she instructed.
"Oh, of course," Cullen replied, slowly lifting himself up on his elbows again.
"Is this good?" he asked. His eyes were fixed on her's.
Imryll gulped silently.
"Yes."
She lifted her hands, suddenly conscious about how sweaty her palms have become.
"I'll just have to peel the top part of the bandages," she informed, hesitating for a moment.
She looked up to find Cullen's breathless gaze on her.
"Cullen?"
His entire face reddened.
"Oh, I apologize. Y-yes, go ahead."
Imryll carefully unwrapped the first layer, taking care in watching for blood that'd stuck to Cullen's skin. There was a nervous silence between them, punctuated by the sound of Cullen's soft breathing.
Imryll wondered if he could hear her heartbeat.
Finally, she'd unwrapped enough to expose the large bruise on his chest - all deep blacks and blues. Imryll shook away the memory of seeing Cullen's chest plate indented after he was knocked back.
The healer who'd initially patched him up managed well. But still she could imagine the kind of pain a bruise so several could cause, if Cullen's ragged breathing was any indication.
"I'll be as gentle as possible, all right?"
"I trust you," Cullen stated.
Imryll pressed her palms softly against his chest. He let out a soft gasp at the initial contact. Then, Imryll closed her eyes and channeled the magic at her core until the cool, light feeling of the healing spell surged through her veins, making its way to her palms and onto Cullen's chest.
She felt him relax and release a sigh of relief. Imryll pushed the remaining wisps of the spell forward until the last traces of the cool light left her body. She opened her eyes, to find Cullen, staring in awe, his amber eyes wet.
"Are you all right?"
Cullen was now able to push himself upright with ease, tension gone from his body.
"More than all right," he said, gaze soft and thankful. Imryll looked down to see that the deep blacks and blues of the giant bruise had faded slightly.
"I'm glad," Imryll replied, realizing the proximity of their faces.
"That was amazing," Cullen said, voice a quiet whisper.
"Was nothing but a simple spell," Imryll said, watching Cullen's eyes travel down to her lips. Somehow, gravity, or something else pulled her closer.
"You're amazing," he continued.
The way he looked at her was dizzying - lighting a flame of need in her belly. Imryll let gravity take her until Cullen was out of focus and their lips pressed together.
Oh.
Cullen pulled back for a moment, the remorse in his eyes threatening to break Imryll's heart.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"Don't be," she quickly intervened, "I want to."
Something sparked in Cullen's eyes before kissing her again, this time with less hesitation.
Imryll sighed at the feeling of his warm lips against her's, reciprocating his kiss.
She pressed herself closer, but careful to not irritate his bruise, and he responded by snaking an arm around her waist. They felt sturdy, strong and warm.
She reached to cup his face and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. She felt him moan against her mouth as she gently nibbled at his bottom lip. Then, his hands trailed up at the small of back and softly up her spine. It sent a warmth down her stomach, making her sigh into their languid kisses.
She could see the brightness of the sun rising through her closed eyes, aware how the light from the window now bathed them. When Cullen wrapped his other arm around her, she let herself melt against him, relishing the feeling of his warm body against her.
She wondered how far she'd let herself get lost in this shemlen's arms when a cough from behind suddenly pulled them apart.
They turned to find Cassandra and the surgeon, looking petrified, at the doorway.
"I apologize, your worship, commander," the surgeon said in a panic and raced back downstairs.
Cassandra stared at them for a moment before managing to say "I uh, apologize greatly for the intrusion."
She quickly turned on her heel to leave, but not before Imryll caught a glimpse of satisfaction on her face. Cassandra softly shut the door, leaving them alone once more.
She turned to face Cullen again. His eyes twinkled at the sight of her.
"T-that was nice," he managed, arms still wrapped around her. Imryll did not want him to let go.
"It was," she replied, smile spreading slowly across her face.
They pressed their foreheads together, locking eyes before laughing softly.
"I wanted that for so long," Cullen confessed, his hand gently playing with strands of her hair, "Imryll...I…"
Hesitation flickered in his eyes - but quickly turned into determination.
"I love you."
Imryll was sure had she been standing, her knees would have given in.
She'd daydreamed of this, more times than she'd like to admit and in every one of those daydreams she'd managed to say something. But there they were bathed in moonlight, rather than sat at a corner in an infirmary.
She was rendered speechless, eyes wide, as worry began to etch itself in Cullen's face.
Say something.
Perhaps her already unplanned morning was symbolic.
"I love you too," she replied, heart racing so fast she was nearly breathless.
The utter joy that shone through Cullen's smile was brighter than the sunrise enveloping them.
Their lips met in another kiss, somehow sweeter than the one before.