Work Text:
For as long as Ellana could remember, she had adored the snow, the fat, fluffy flakes that fluttered down from thick cotton clouds to kiss the tip of her nose when the temperatures would drop for a few weeks’ time at the end of each year. In the lush forests where she’d spent her youth, her clan thriving in a wilderness abundant with dense ferns and towering trees, brief episodes of snowfall —gradually dusting sage-green grass beneath a thin mantle of sparkling powder— were a rare treat. For her entire life, she’d thought of snow as remarkable, breathtaking, even, and if she’d only been in the mountains for a quick excursion, she might still be enjoying the flurries.
But her hand was marked, and Haven was more than just a temporary refuge, safely nestled under a glimmering blanket of ice and snow; it was the fledgling Inquisition’s base of operations, and her home, for now at least. And though it was picturesque, her fascination with all things wintery had fully dissipated weeks ago; now, all she felt when she saw piles of white speckled with icy grey slush and shit-dark mud was revulsion, and cold. Regardless, this was where she needed to be, and so she clenched her chattering teeth and headed to the chantry to check on Cassandra, hunching her shoulders against the icy wind that seemed to cut through her robes no matter how many layers she was wearing.
She was so, so tired of freezing.
At least she wasn’t sick. For a while, it seemed as if everyone in Haven was fighting some sort of cough, or sniffle, or was gasping through a fit of sneezes. For most, illness had passed quickly as their bodies had acclimated to the harsh weather and dangerously low temperatures. Cassandra hadn’t been so lucky; her barking cough had turned into wheezing breaths and, eventually, a fever. She would be fine, Solas had said, but she needed to rest, and shouldn’t leave her bed for the next few days unless it was completely necessary.
Cassandra’s room was almost unbearably cold, a stark contrast to the warmth that filled the rest of the chantry. Her fireplace was dark, the only light in her room coming from a tall, thin candle on the nightstand. Ellana fought back a shiver when she stood beside the Seeker’s bed.
“How are you feeling?” Better, Ellana desperately hoped. They couldn’t delay their return to the Hinterlands for much longer, and she was reluctant to make her way across a region in turmoil without a strong sword and shield at her side. More than that, she was worried for her companion, though she knew that Cassandra wouldn't care to hear any words of concern. Stubborn woman.
Cassandra grumbled and struggled beneath the blankets, trying to push herself up to sit. Arms trembling, she gave it up, flopping back down to the pillows with a frustrated sigh. Her brow glistened with sweat, dark hair plastered damp on her forehead despite the cool dry air of the room.
“Terrible,” she admitted on a crackling exhale, “as if all strength has been sapped from my muscles and a bronto has been sitting on my chest.”
“Has your fever broken?”
“Nearly. Solas tells me the worst of it has likely passed. A few more days,” she continued in a weary voice, anticipating Ellana’s next question, “and then I will be able to join you again. Three, perhaps; maybe four.”
“Oh.”
“Enough time has been wasted already, waiting for me to recover. Commander Cullen has offered to accompany you when you leave for the Hinterlands tomorrow. He—” Ellana took a quick step back as Cassandra erupted in a fit of violent coughing. She certainly didn’t sound better than she had a few days ago, but soon enough, it was over. The Seeker scowled and rubbed balled fists over her wet eyes as she worked to catch her breath. “It is intolerable, feeling so useless. Still, as I was saying, the Commander has offered to join you and the others in the morning.”
“Varric, Solas, and I can go on our own. There’s no need to disrupt the Commander’s schedule,” Ellana said timidly. “I’m sure he has plenty of important matters here to tend to, he shouldn’t—”
“Did I say ‘offered?’ I should have said that he insisted.” Cassandra gave a thin smile and shrugged one shoulder beneath her blanket, wincing inaudibly when the small movement strained her aching muscles. “He did insist. There is too much danger out there to leave to a pair of mages and a… Varric,” she said, sneering his name. “And it would be irresponsible of us to take any risk that might lose us the only person with the potential to close the breach. Cullen will be accompanying you.”
“We could take care of ourselves,” Ellana muttered, knowing that there was no real point in arguing the matter. Clearly, the decision had already been made.
It had still been dark when Ellana was awoken by a sharp rapping on her cabin door, a messenger on the other side urging her to make her preparations and meet the rest of her traveling party at the gate. Apparently, the Commander was eager to get an early start, so the group had followed him out of Haven just after dawn, most of them still bleary-eyed and only half-awake.
At first, they spoke haltingly as they walked, Varric making small complaints under his breath while Solas quietly pointed out useful plants that might be harvested for balms and poultices. Ellana only nodded along, occasionally stooping to gather up stalks of elfroot and embrium, grateful for the opportunity to remain mostly silent while trailing a few paces behind the others.
She wasn’t shy. It was only that… well…
Since meeting the Commander, she’d been unsure what to make of him. More often than not, his presence was intimidating; he was tall and broad, commanding and shrewd. When his voice would carry through the yard —whether shouting frustrated corrections at recruits as they trained or raised in exasperation while arguing with Roderick— Ellana would shrink away from the sound of it, hoping never to give the former Templar cause to turn his clipped tone in her direction. Generally, he seemed polite enough, in a curt sort of way, but nearly stand-offish, and was almost always preoccupied with something. The idea of approaching him for a friendly conversation was daunting, so she’d largely avoided it, and him.
But then, there had been moments where he had seemed almost boyish, though those were rare— fleeting instances of vulnerability that caught her off guard. His hand would slip to the back of his neck when he was lost in contemplation, rubbing to soothe what Ellana imagined was a tender muscle from long days and longer nights spent hunched at a desk, his eyes straining as he pored over maps and reports in dim candlelight. At the war table, he would occasionally look up with a soft smile when she addressed him, and though his mouth would quickly pull down into a ruminative frown before he answered her queries, the initial upward curving of his lips was only ever gentle and kind. And curiously, while his amber eyes were frequently steeled, sometimes, when she’d trudge past him in camp after returning from a week of travel, they’d scan her tired face with quiet concern, although he never let his worried expression linger for more than a second or two before turning wordlessly back to his duties.
That he was strikingly handsome shouldn’t matter, though she found herself distracted by the broadness of his shoulders and the curls of blonde hair at the nape of his neck as they walked. With so much uncertainty ahead of her, who could possibly fault her for allowing herself to enjoy the view?
Ellana was exhausted; the day had been long, spent mostly in dark forests, sealing rifts and fending off bear attacks. Blessedly, before she’d been forced to speak up to request that they call it a day, Varric had noted the rapidly dropping temperature, suggesting that they find someplace to make camp before night fell and they broke their necks stumbling around in the dark.
It hadn’t taken them long to find a safe enough place to pitch their tents or to dig a rough pit for their evening fire. Three of them at least were familiar with the routine; it was all that they usually did when spending a few weeks away from Haven. Two tents were enough to provide shelter for four companions, despite being cramped, and a glowing fire in a hastily dug pit offered ample enough warmth, as well as supplying an excellent way to roast a few flanks of fresh ram meat.
Dinner had been eaten quietly, and then they’d taken turns washing up as best they could in the dark before returning to sit in the circle of firelight, making small talk as they passed around a flask of whiskey. The evening was already cool and promised to become colder still as the night wore on, but the booze combined with the heat that radiated from their campfire went a long way towards providing a moderately cozy atmosphere.
When the whiskey was gone, Varric stretched, yawning, and looked thoughtfully at the Commander across the flames. “What do you say, Curly? Not too bad, huh? It’s better than freezing your ass off in the mountains, right?”
“Is that supposed to be directed at me? Curly?” the Commander repeated with exaggerated indignation. A good-natured smile crept over his lips.
“Sure. You’ve got these little…” Varric twirled his index finger in a tight circle and winked. “Right behind your ears. I’m sure it drives the ladies wild.”
“I’m sure it does no such thing,” he muttered, shaking his head at the dwarf. “Do you give everyone you travel with such inaccurate monikers?”
“Chuckles,” Solas answered dryly before Varric could respond. “He finds himself amusing, no doubt.”
“Absolutely, I do. Still working on that one, though,” the rogue said with a grin, jerking a thumb in Ellana’s direction. “Haven’t found anything that fits yet.”
Ellana flushed, dropping her eyes to the logs that glowed red in the flames. She could feel the Commander looking her over, the intensity of his thoughtful gaze burning through her, and she fought back a shiver.
“Well,” he said after a few quiet seconds had passed, “there’s no need for it. Feel free to use my name if you like.”
“And here I thought ‘Commander’ was your name,” Varric laughed. “You’re telling me that’s not what your mother calls you?”
“Cullen,” he said tersely, though Ellana could hear laughter burring at the edge of his voice. “Cullen will do just fine, at least while it’s just the four of us out here.”
“Sure, Curly, anything you say,” Varric chuckled, lifting his hands into the air in surrender when Cullen huffed. “Alright, alright, fine. Well then, Cullen, how about we call it a night? I’m sure there are plenty more rifts and shit for us to deal with tomorrow, and I’d prefer to be well-rested for it.”
“We all ought to be,” Solas said, standing.
Varric followed him, pushing to his feet with a soft grunt, and the two men made their way to their tent, quietly arguing as they went about which of them had first woken the other with their snoring the last time they’d shared a sleeping space.
Left alone with the Commander beside the fire, Ellana chanced a quick look in his direction. He was still watching her. She glanced away when he offered her a gentle smile.
“I expect that means we’ll be sharing the other tent,” Cullen said, breaking the awkward silence. “Unless you’d rather I stay out here? I could—”
“It’s fine,” Ellana blurted out as her sheepish eyes found his, “Cass and I have shared a tent plenty of times. It’s not as if—”
“I didn’t mean…” He flushed, and rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed. “We don’t really know one another, do we? It seems a bit early in our relationship to be sharing a bedroll.”
“Our relationship?” she echoed, trying not to blush when she cocked her head at him. “We both have our own bedrolls, you know. It’s just the extra blanket we might share.”
“I only meant… Maker’s breath,” he muttered under his breath, “I never was very good at humor. All I meant was—”
“It’s fine,” she repeated, surprised to see him suddenly acting as timorous as she felt. What did he have to be anxious about? “It’s only sleeping.”
“I could stay up and keep watch,” he abruptly proposed, an expression she couldn’t place sliding briefly over his features. Was it fear? “I have no desire to make you uncomfortable. I should have brought my own tent, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”
Even beside the fire, the night air had become almost unbearably cold. If he stayed outside, he’d freeze, or at least catch a cold. They couldn’t afford that; it was bad enough that Cassandra was still under the weather. Could it be that he was concerned about sharing such close quarters with a mage? He must know that they’d both be vulnerable enough, sleeping side-by-side in the dark. Or was he worried that she would hurt him? He could just as easily do the same to her while she was unconscious, though she didn’t honestly fear that he would.
Ellana looked him over appraisingly, truly taking him in. Perhaps it was only the way the firelight sent deep shadows flickering across his face, but more than anxious, he looked exhausted: weary down to his very bones.
“I’m not sure I could really fall asleep easily tonight, anyway,” he continued, tensing up under her scrutinizing gaze as he stared down at the fire. “It’s no trouble for me to stay out here. The cold doesn’t bother me too much.”
She scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous; you’ll be frozen solid come morning. Besides, Solas is right. We all need our rest.” She paused, waiting for him to agree. When he didn’t, she pressed. “Aren’t you tired?”
He finally looked back up at her, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Yes.”
“Then we should sleep,” she said simply, “and hopefully, it’ll be warmer in the tent.”
With Cassandra, Ellana had taken no issue with stripping down to her smalls before crawling into her bedroll, and the Seeker had clearly felt the same. They’d slept comfortably in a shared state of undress beneath a scratchy blanket, neither of them treating it as anything odd. But with Cullen, wearing so little seemed inappropriate, so Ellana had opted to change into a pair of thin cotton trousers and a loose undershirt before joining him in the inky blackness of the tent.
It was miserably cramped. Cullen’s frame was much larger than Cassandra’s, so Ellana held herself rigidly, flat on her back beside him, careful not to let any part of herself accidentally press against his warm body.
And he was warm. The Commander radiated heat; it rolled off of him steadily, almost invitingly. Ellana struggled not to relax into it. Why was everywhere they went so cold?
“Hopefully, I don’t snore.” Cullen’s voice came quietly from beside her in the dark. “Do you have enough room?”
“Not really, but it’s fine.”
“If we sleep back-to-back, on our sides, rather than like this…” he began.
She shook her head up at the canvas ceiling. He’d seemed so anxious beside the fire. She wasn’t about to let herself curl up against him if he was truly that uneasy about sleeping beside a mage. “It’s fine.”
“So you’ve said. Repeatedly.”
She didn’t answer. Her every thought was on keeping still. Cullen sighed beside her, and she heard fabric rustle as he did his best to get comfortable.
After what felt like hours, she finally fell asleep, lulled there by Cullen’s steady, shallow breathing.
She woke with a start, certain she had heard a strangled whimper. Scrambling to sit up, her hands reached through the darkness, searching for the source of the soft cry. She pulled them into her lap at the last second, almost remembering too late that she had been sleeping beside the Commander rather than Cassandra.
“...Cullen?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” His voice was rough and wavering as if he were holding back tears.
Ellana squinted through the darkness, trying to make out where his words had come from. Was he still lying down?
“Are you alright?” Her hand tentatively reached out to feel for his shoulder on the bedroll beside her. The space was empty and cold. “Where are you?”
“Sitting up, just here.” His hand knocked into hers when he felt his fumbling way over the bedding between them. “Sorry,” he repeated, jerking his hand away. “I didn’t…” He puffed out a humorless laugh before falling silent.
She wasn’t sure how much she should pry, if at all. His breathing came ragged, shallow breaths catching when they met her ears. Had he truly been crying?
“Did something happen?” she eventually asked.
He took a moment to answer. “Just a nightmare. I… I don’t sleep well, generally speaking.”
“Oh.” Was that why he’d seemed so averse to sleeping beside one another?
“I’m sorry I woke you. I can’t imagine that you had to deal with this while sharing a tent with Cassandra.”
She shook her head, though he couldn’t see the small motion in the pitch-black tent. “If I had, I’d hardly say so. Some things aren’t mine to share. This included,” she added kindly. “Will you be able to fall back asleep?”
“I can try.”
She settled back onto her pillow, smiling at the sound of quiet rustling as Cullen slid down to his bedroll.
He sighed heavily as he stretched out, fidgeting once he was flat on his back beneath the blanket beside her.
“Do you expect that you'll be tossing and turning all night, or…?”
“This isn’t… I don’t usually sleep on my back,” he explained haltingly. “It’s just… I’ve never found it very comfortable.”
“You suggested sleeping back-to-back earlier,” she remembered. It took her a moment to decide, but when she did, she steeled herself, certain that he would turn her down. She made the quiet offer anyway. “We could try that if it might help.”
“Thank you, yes.” She could hear the relieved smile in his voice as he shifted onto his side with a grateful sigh. “Thank you.”
She didn’t mean to press herself so tightly to him when she mirrored his position, but Creators, he was so warm, and the night was so very cold.
Ellana couldn’t be certain, but she was fairly sure that the Hinterlands were comprised entirely of rifts, bandits, and far too many bears with a proclivity for elf flesh.
By the end of the day, they’d put down at least a dozen demons, dealt with an unreasonable number of bandits, and had been chased through the forest by no fewer than four massive bears. Upon reaching their campsite at dusk, Varric had laid out traps along the perimeter while Solas set wards around the tents. Better safe than sorry, and they’d all sleep better knowing that there would be at least some warning if a bear or any other beastie came sniffing around while everyone was unconscious.
After eating, washing up, and changing into more comfortable clothes, the conversation around the fire came more easily than it had been the night before; Cullen traded light barbs with Varric while Solas and Ellana quietly discussed the nature of the creatures that had been spat out of the rifts they’d encountered. They had no alcohol to pass around, but the company was decent anyway, and when the hour grew late — the temperature dropping to dangerously low — they all fought back shivers and yawns in equal amounts as they chatted.
“Sleep,” Solas eventually suggested, interrupting Varric’s retelling of a misadventure he and his old group had once had in Kirkwall. Varric only nodded, shrugging nonchalantly as he rose to follow Solas to their tent. A chorus of ‘goodnights’ was exchanged before Ellana and Cullen were left sitting alone together in the low light of their dying fire.
Ellana tipped her face up to the black sky, wondering whether they would wake up to a forest covered in snow. Stretching, her eyes scanned through the trees that surrounded them. Every detail outside of their small circle of firelight was lost to deep, dark shadows. She shivered.
“Thank you,” Cullen said quietly after a few minutes of silence, “for not saying anything to the others, I mean.”
Her brow furrowed when she turned her head to look at him. “Had you expected me to? I told you I wouldn’t.”
“No,” he admitted, “not really. Still, you could have, and I appreciate that you didn’t.”
“I wouldn’t,” she repeated. “Do you think… Will you be able to sleep tonight?”
“Hopefully,” he said wistfully, letting his gaze fall to the glowing embers, “Maker, but I’m exhausted.”
“We can stay up for a while longer,” she offered. “I can wait with you out here until you’re nearly dozing off where you sit before heading to bed. Would that help?”
“No,” he answered, far too quickly. He gave her a smile that was almost shy, though it didn’t reach his eyes, lined with fatigue. “It’s not— that’s a thoughtful suggestion, but I’ve tried it countless times, and it’s never made a difference. The dreams come anyway, no matter how tired I am when I finally close my eyes.”
“How do you…” she hesitated, not wanting to push for any information he might be reluctant to share, though she was desperately curious.
“Go on,” he encouraged her with a weak smile, “it’s fine.”
“How do you stay so focused if you never get any rest? Aren’t you worried that you’ll slip up somewhere? That your reaction time will be slowed in a fight, that you’ll be too slow to stop an enemy’s blow?”
“All the time.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, letting his eyes close for a moment. “The worrying never stops, really. Sometimes it’s not so bad. It wasn’t… After I laid back down last night, my sleep was restful enough. It was a nice change, to be perfectly honest. Not that I expect you’ll be following me to bed for every night hereafter.”
“Just the nights we’re out here for?” she teased.
“If it isn’t too much to ask,” he said seriously, missing her lighthearted tone. “Maker, but it felt incredible to—”
“Incredible?” Ellana shivered again, this time not entirely because of the cold.
Cullen’s mouth clamped shut, a horrified expression on his face. “I didn’t mean— I’m sorry, I wasn’t…” he winced, and cleared his throat, shaking his head as if to shrug off his embarrassment at being so open. “It was wonderful to get a few hours of unbroken sleep after going so long without it. That’s all I meant. I appreciated that you were willing to be… close. You didn’t have to. You don’t have to again,” he said softly, a note of shame creeping into his low voice. “Sleep however you like.”
“Then let’s get to bed,” she suggested, gracefully pushing up to her feet. “I’m freezing, and I wouldn’t mind stealing some of your heat again tonight. You certainly seem to have more than enough to spare.”
He gave her a grateful smile, nodding as he slowly stood.
“Do you have the dreams every night?”
It was easier, talking to him in the dark when they couldn’t see one another’s faces.
Ellana relaxed into the heat of Cullen’s broad shoulders beneath the covers; her eyes closed as she felt the slow motion of his breathing behind her. Pressed snugly back-to-back, she held herself still, fighting the urge to stretch out and intertwine her cold legs with his surely warm ones. The heat that poured off of him was lovely, but it wasn’t enough to truly warm her. It was like holding her hand above the steam of a hot bath without being allowed to slip beneath the surface; frustrating, and almost shamefully difficult to resist.
“Near enough,” he answered. “Some nights, it’s not worth trying to sleep at all; I close my eyes, and a second later, there they are.”
“They?”
She felt him stiffen behind her, his back drawing up into a rigid line.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” she rushed to assure him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” Ellana let out a relieved breath when he relaxed again, almost sagging back against her.
“It’s not easy to talk about,” he tentatively said, “I’d rather not, if that’s alright.”
She nodded against her pillow. Of course it was alright. They were still practically strangers, after all.
She’d rolled over, her unmarked hand searching for his before she realized what she was doing, eyes still shut and barely conscious. Ellana’s fingers caught his, curling around his trembling hand instinctively when a soft sob sounded beside her as she slept.
Cullen squeezed hard when her hand slipped into his, clinging to her, clutching her hand to his chest. When had he rolled over?
“Are you alright?” she mumbled drowsily, “another dream?”
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, “I—”
“Shhh,” she hushed him, unable to force her eyes open. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, dark as it was in the tent. Ellana slid her hand out of his, feeling her way up his arm to his shoulder, his neck, his cheek. She could feel Cullen shrink away from her touch, but she let her hand drift up until her cool fingers brushed across his forehead. His brow was damp with sweat, and nearly fever-hot. “Are you feeling unwell? You’re burning up.”
“I’m always… always this warm,” he told her, “I’m used to it, it’s— oh.”
She rested her palm against his sweltering brow, letting her chilled touch cool him there. “No magic,” she murmured, just in case he was worried about it, “just me. I’m always freezing, lately.”
“Haven must be especially miserable for you, then,” he choked out sympathetically. “But that’s— your touch is lovely. Refreshing, I mean. Cold, not in a bad way, just… it’s nice.”
“I can’t remember the last time I truly felt warm,” she admitted, yawning. How did he manage to survive on so little sleep? She could never; even now, she struggled not to doze off, waiting for him to tell her he was alright. But then, Cullen’s warmth was soothing, seeping into her achingly cold bones, and, groggy and barely conscious, she wriggled into him. It was better than a hot bath, she muzzily thought.
“You’re freezing,” he mumbled. “How can you sleep when your skin is this chilled?”
She only hummed a soft note, too tired and cozy to find the words to answer. His warmth enveloped her; finally, she wasn’t fighting back a shiver or trying to ignore the icy chill that had followed them from Haven. Cullen seemed content enough to allow her cool body to press against his, so she let herself nod off, one gentle hand left resting lightly on his forehead as she curled instinctively into his chest.
She smelled like him. Two nights of sharing a tent, one of them spent practically in his arms, and Cullen’s scent was in her clothes, in her hair, on her skin. It wasn’t an unpleasant fragrance, though it had taken her until nearly mid-day to place the distracting aroma; clean and sweet and warm, like leather and soap mixed with a pleasantly masculine musk.
After another day of drawn-out battles and brutal encounters with everything the rifts had to throw at them, the group had spent their usual time around the fire, eating and chatting before washing up in preparation for bed. Varric and Solas retired to their tent early, both of them claiming it was far too cold to stay up much longer. It was.
Still, Ellana and Cullen sat together a few minutes more, silently watching the fire between them as it died down to glowing embers.
“Do you think that we have much more to deal with out here?” she wondered aloud.
“We could probably stand to stay another day or two,” Cullen answered, glancing up at her. “Why, were you hoping to get back to the mountains? Looking forward to seeing snow again? We’ll have enough of that out here, soon enough.”
“No, it’s just…” She grimaced, flinching when she leaned forward.
The teasing humor in his eyes quickly drained away at the pained expression on her face. “Are you alright?”
“My shoulder,” she admitted, “it’s not your fault, so don’t rush to apologize, only… I’m not used to sleeping like that. I must have pinched a nerve or something. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
He was on his feet in an instant, crossing the distance between them in a few short steps. “May I?” he asked, already reaching out for her arm.
She shrugged and immediately winced at the pain that danced up her shoulder to claw into her neck. Cullen caught her wrist in one hand, gently placing his other hand on her elbow.
“I don’t intend to hurt you,” he murmured apologetically. “I’d just like to make sure that you have a full range of motion, and check that nothing is sprained.”
Her eyes drifted shut as he slowly lifted her arm, her teeth gritting against the pain she felt as he gingerly raised it above her head. A whimper slipped out of her when he carefully lowered her arm back to her side and released her.
She heard Cullen wet his lips above her. “Please don’t think this anything other than…” He stopped, swallowing loudly before starting over. “My hands are warm,” he said simply, “I can try to work that knot out for you, and it shouldn’t take more than a few minutes of effort. If you’d like me to, of course. Either way, we’ll head back to Haven in the morning so one of the healers can look you over.”
“It’s probably only a pinched nerve,” she reasoned, “there’s no need to rush back on my account.”
“Probably,” he agreed, “but even so, it might be something more, and I can’t risk losing you— we can’t, your hand, I mean… The mark…” A frustrated sigh poured out of him as he rubbed one hand over the stubble on his jaw, shaking his head down at her. “I won’t risk losing you,” he firmly stated. “If you’re open to it, I’m happy to try to provide you some relief this evening. Regardless, tomorrow you’ll be looked over by a healer to be certain that nothing is sprained, or worse. Now, would you care to head to the tent?”
She nodded, her cheeks burning as she stood, unable to recall whether he’d ever spoken to her like that before, so adamantly. Cullen followed her to the tent, stopping her with a soft hum before she pulled open the flaps.
“It would be easier— better, I mean, if your shoulders were bare,” he suggested. “You don’t need to undress, of course, but—”
“I don’t mind,” she said, “just the tunic, right?”
“Right.”
“Take yours off too, if it helps you to stay cool,” she offered as she tugged her shirt over her head, knowing that the band that bound her breasts would keep her chest from being completely bared to his gaze.
To his credit, he didn’t stare, though a pink tinge was rising in his cheeks when she turned around to crawl into their tent. He joined her a moment later, bare-chested and smiling nervously. She didn’t need to force herself not to stare; Cullen sealed the flap of their tent behind him quickly, and Ellana’s vision was lost to darkness. Fumbling sightlessly over the blanket, they both took a moment to find comfortable positions on the bedrolls, tossing aside their pillows.
Ellana winced as she settled cross-legged in front of him, pain coursing through her as she reached up to pull her hair over her shoulders to give him easier access to her sore muscles. Behind her, Cullen cleared his throat softly, muttering under his breath as he shuffled closer on his knees.
“Would it be alright if I sat with my legs on either side of you? With how cramped the tent is, kneeling won’t exactly provide the best angle for this…”
As soon as she said yes, his cotton-clad thighs slid around her. It took everything she had not to lean back against his chest to soak up the warmth she knew she’d find there. Even without reclining into him, it radiated warmly at her back. She forced herself not to imagine what he might feel like, curled up around her, the slow rise and fall of his chest pressed to her skin, his steady breath warming her ear.
“You don’t have to sit so stiffly,” he said with a soft chuckle, “I promise that I won’t hurt you. If you can bring yourself to relax, I’ll be able to do a better job working out that knot for you.”
Hesitantly, she let her shoulders drop, and a moment later, Cullen’s large, warm hand was pressing against her cool skin. She hummed appreciatively at the heat that bled into her at his touch, doing her best not to moan when he began to knead his fingers into the tender flesh at her shoulder. Whatever it actually was, whether a knot or a pinched nerve, he rubbed the area expertly, with the exact right amount of pressure and heat to warm the sore muscle. His touch was agonizingly sweet, with only a hint of pain twinging when he curled his calloused fingers.
“Relax,” he encouraged her, almost whispering the word in her ear. His warm breath fanned over the back of her exposed neck, gooseflesh spreading over her skin beneath his hands.
He chuckled again at the shiver that ran through her, scooching himself a few millimeters closer to share his heat.
It was only a quick massage, she reminded herself, biting down hard on her lip to keep from moaning when he increased the pressure, skilled fingers working tirelessly at the space just beside the crook of her neck. And then he did something with the heel of his palm, a slow, circling motion that bit into the most sensitive point of her aching shoulder, and Ellana pulled in a ragged gasp.
Cullen froze behind her. “Should I stop?”
The words were spilling out of her before she could pull them back. “Mmm, please, no, don’t stop. You feel wonderful, and so warm.”
“I’m… Hmm.” He chortled to himself, picking back up where he’d left off, rubbing a firm, warm pressure into the muscle that traveled up her neck. “I’m glad that it’s helping.”
Too soon, his hands stilled, and he pulled away, leaving her shivering when his heat disappeared with them. “Is that any better?”
She rolled her shoulder experimentally. It still stung when she lifted it, but not as badly as it had before. “Yes,” she said gratefully, a smile on her lips that he couldn’t see, “much better, thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“It was no trouble. Maker knows you’ve been more than accommodating of me and my… hurt.”
“I don’t mind sleeping, uh, closer again tonight, if you’d like,” she mumbled into the darkness as she slid down to the bedroll. She was cold but could sleep regardless, tired as she felt. “It was nice, not freezing last night.”
Silence answered her. She muffled a yawn against her wrist and let her eyes flutter shut, hoping that she hadn’t said the wrong thing.
After a moment, she could hear Cullen lowering himself to the pillow behind her, fabric rustling as he pulled their shared blanket over their bodies. It was thin and rough, but it was better than nothing.
Just when she’d opened her mouth to thank him again, she felt a warm arm curl around her waist, and the heat of Cullen’s bare chest pressed tightly against her back.
“Oh,” she murmured, barely conscious as she wriggled back against him, “that’s perfect.”
His breath hitched in her ear, and she stilled herself abruptly.
“Sorry,” she muttered, cringing. How inappropriate. Creators, she was so tired. “I didn’t realize, didn’t think—”
“It’s fine,” he quietly assured her, and for one fleeting second, she thought she’d felt the press of his lips to her shoulder, though it might have only been his chin brushing over her as he rested his head beside her on the pillow. “Will you be able to sleep like this?”
If he had wanted to kiss her, he could have, she drowsily thought. She wouldn’t have minded.
“Ellana?”
“Hm?”
“Can you sleep like this?”
She couldn’t remember ever feeling so blissfully safe and warm before. “Yes. Can you?”
His sleepy hum in her ear was answer enough, but his soft response came anyway. “Yes.”
“Ellana! Herald!”
“Cassandra!” Ellana stopped walking, turning her head at the sound of her name. She beamed as she watched the Seeker half-jog in her direction, armor clanking as she approached with a similarly bright smile. “You’re feeling better?”
“Fully recovered, or at least so I have been told.” Cassandra declared happily. She eyed Ellana curiously as the two women walked together towards the chantry. “So, you must tell me, how did it go?”
“It was mostly demons and rifts, but it went well enough, I think. Everyone came back in one piece, at least.”
“An admirable outcome,” Cassandra laughed. “Many have done worse.”
“True. And we sealed up so many rifts, I’ll be surprised if there’s more than one or two left in the region. Did you know that some of them only spit out wraiths?”
“Better that they pour out wraiths than rage demons.” Cassandra shot Ellana a sly look from the corner of her eye. “But what of the Commander? How did you find it, working alongside him?”
“Oh. He was a wonderful asset, certainly. We would have had a difficult time without him.”
“He didn’t spend the entire time shouting orders at you, did he? I had hoped that he would find some way to be polite, if not pleasant, though I’m familiar with how… frosty a tone he can take when he has enough weighing on his mind.”
“Frosty?” Ellana echoed with a faint smile, ducking her head to hide the flush that rose in her cheeks. “No, not at all. In fact, every interaction I had with him was quite… warm.”