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Cullen stared at the Inquisitor as she stood in the War Room, clutching her staff as she leaned on it for support. The advisers gaped at her state. She was drenched in muddy water, leaves stuck to her leather armor and hair, her face caked with mud with a few tiny scratches and a missing boot. He made a mental note to order a new pair for her as he noticed the bandaged foot.
“Inquisitor! Are you alright?” Josephine exclaimed as she dropped her quill, rushing to her side.
“I’m fine, Josephine. Just a few scratches.” Kyrie grunted in pain and smiled at Josephine.
“It does not look like a few scratches, Inquisitor.” Eyed Leliana squarely.
“It is nothing, I promise you. I will be fine.” Kyrie beamed at them, masking her pain.
“Shall we postpone this meeting? I don’t think the Inquisitor is in good shape to be standing.” Cullen suggested.
Josephine looked at Cullen, her face marked with worry for the Inquisitor. “I agree. We may do this in another time when you are well, Inquisitor,” and with that she walked away along with Leliana.
“What happened to you… exactly?” Cullen whispered once Leliana and Josephine left the War Room, leaving the two of them alone. His tone forceful.
“Wh-what do you mean, Commander?” she gulped, nervously still smiling.
His question made her queasy, he knew that. She did not look at him in the eye as she toed the hard stone floor with her good foot. He knew… He knew something else happened to her and he was guaranteed to make her tell him. Once she looked up from the ground, he raised one eyebrow.
Kyrie sighed in defeat.
“Maker’s tiny balls! Fine! A spirit spooked me, I tripped, twisted my ankle in the process and fell on the muddy pond!” She dropped her staff, flailing her hands in the air. Her ears was beet red from the confession. “Are you happy now?”
Cullen smiled, trying not to laugh at her but it was too late as she glared at him. She crossed her arms and continued to glare at him. Beneath the playful and sweet personality, he found her embarrassment endearing. Cullen chuckled as he crossed to her, he surprised by lifting her up in his arms. One arm went under his legs, the other looping on her back.
“Cullen! Put me down! I will ruin your armor!”
“It’s just armor, Kyrie. It can be cleaned, now… let me help you to your quarters and have you washed up.” Cullen proceeded to walk towards to huge wooden doors, forgetting her staff on the floor.
He knew. Something he learned during the past few months of their relationship. He learned that she masks her pain with a smile and somehow everybody believes she was okay and nothing was wrong. He can see past through it.
Most of the time she masks her expressions when she’s embarrassed.