Cullen glanced over, his weary eyes almost lifting in a smirk, "Falling for someone like that, someone who has saved millions of lives, impacted all of thedas. It's...terrifying at times."
"But you..." Reiss struggled to speak her thoughts, that shield she kept in place to protect herself rising up. No, there was no point now. "You're the Commander of the Inquisition. Or were, your standing it must be close to hers."
He didn't smile, but he nodded his head a moment as if slightly impressed. Turning away to stare down the open floor, Cullen spoke, "I wasn't always. I certainly wasn't when I fell for her. One templar out of a hundred, a thousand, a nobody who foolishly loved the woman that saved Ferelden, saved the world. I didn't think for a second that she'd even cast a second glance my way."
On the first floor below them, Reiss spotted the head of Patrice slowly sliding towards the fireplace. She hurled a log onto the puny flame before glancing up to the quiet room where a King would either live or die tonight.
"It's maddening sometimes," Cullen continued, "to think that someone like her can care about me, can love me. That I can have that great of an impact on her life."
"She married you," Reiss sighed, knowing that was never in her cards. Granted, an elf with no alienage and no parents was destined to be a spinster regardless.
"She did, and still," he leaned out of his seat as if he could peer through the door to watch his wife struggling to save Alistair. "Sometimes I see the sun and I fear I might be lost in her wake. They forget, they don't know what they are to people. Lana's...she's slipped more and more from what she once was while in hiding. But I remember." A smile lifted upon his dour lips as he stared out across the vast emptiness, no doubt rifling through a favorite memory.
"I don't..." Reiss shifted, feeling like she was being given a lecture in a language she didn't speak.
"That man is an idiot," Cullen said point blank about his King while jabbing a finger towards the door. "And I was forced to live through his depths of idiocy for far too long, but...and it pains me to say it, he's a good man."
"I know..." she swallowed hard.
"I don't know what came between you two, but I can take a wild guess. He did something stupid, more than likely not out of malice, but because he didn't stop to think, to remember that we're not all the same. Those two," he jerked his head to the door, "they can't see the pedestal the rest of us put them on. And when they try to drag one of us up to it, it gets messy."
"I'm sorry, Ser, what are you saying?" Reiss wasn't certain if she was hallucinating from the pain wracking her body, or if the actual Commander of the Inquisition was giving her relationship advice. The latter seemed far more likely.
Cullen grumbled, seeming to have lost the words he was barely able to get out. "Tell him what you need, make him realize that you're not the same. He's too stupid and kind hearted to figure it out himself."
"Oh," Reiss' head hung down, her eyes focusing on the carpet. Was that the problem between them? Why she ran when she felt the collar of high society tightening against her throat like a noose? Did he really not realize that others would see her differently? Oh Maker.
"And for my sake and his, never tell him I shared this with you," Cullen sneered, folding back against the wall in silence.
Reiss didn't know exactly what went on between the two but she got the feeling there wasn't exactly any love lost. "My lips are sealed," she promised.
The pair of them fell silent sitting on the bench. On occasion a few muted sounds would permeate the closed door, mostly shuffling but Reiss thought she heard the sound of glass breaking which drew a deeper frown to the Commander's face. She'd spent so long worrying about what to do if Alistair didn't make it, a new thought rattled in her brain. What was she going to do if he survived? Would he hate her? He should, she broke his heart. It was only fair. And rushing out to save him left her without anything to return to.
Reiss should feel something about abandoning her post, leaving behind the only job she'd known for the past year and a half but it was a soap bubble. Letting it pop from neglect had little impact upon her. It was money and a bed, but it wasn't what she wanted.
Maker's sake, Rat. What do you want?
The door opened, jarring both Reiss and Cullen out of their daydreams. She moved to stand, but he was faster on the draw already on his feet to grip onto the elbow of his wife.
"I've done all of what I can for now." Lana looked like she'd walked through the void itself and returned. Her fingers gripped tight to her cane which Cullen was quick to take over for as he helped her to sit down.
"His chances?" Reiss asked, her fingers digging into her knee as she glared out at the world. She had to know but didn't want to.
"They're..." the Hero paused, her hand kneading against her forehead as exhaustion rampaged up.
"Lana," Cullen's hands cupped her shoulder, the man providing support for her. Perhaps the only way a normal person could to the sun.
She gritted her teeth and patted his hand. "I'd give it fifty, fifty right now. If he makes it 'til morning then...then I think he's in the clear. It was bad, worse than I first anticipated."
Andraste, please. Reiss couldn't fold her hands together so she curled the only working one up into a fist, her body wanting to take out all its frustration and fear upon the one who caused it. But beating a dead corpse wouldn't get her very far.
"You're exhausted," Cullen drew his fingers down his wife's cheek cheek.
"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head despite all evidence to the contrary. There'd been a dissonance in the room but without her patient needing her to be focused, a redness welled up in her eyes, the pain quick to overtake her.
The Commander took her assurances about as well as Reiss expected, his arms folding as he asked point blank, "How many vials of lyrium?"
"All of them."
"What? All four!"
"It was very bad. And close. If we'd been an hour late, a half hour, I don't know if...oh," she leaned her head back against the wall and began to flex her hands out across her knees. Her husband looked on, clearly wishing he could do something to ease the burden on their only mage.
Wrapping an arm around the back of her neck, Cullen tugged his chest to her cheek in a strange hug. "Rest up, I'll see if I can find you some food."
A heart rending smile played about her lips before the Hero turned to place a kiss upon him. "Thank you," she whispered. With something to do, Cullen stomped off, his growling voice already requesting for one of the servants to point him in the direction of the larder.
After a moment of exhausted silence, Lana sat up and turned to Reiss. "Let me take a look at your arm."
"No, it's..." she moved to yank it away, but the mage was already slipping her fingers over it. Reiss gritted her teeth anticipating pain, but none came. Numbness drew away all feeling upon her arm as the mage stared down at it. "Don't exert yourself on my account."
A soft chuckle was the only response she got as Lana passed her fingers back and forth over the break. Sure enough, the bone began to retract to where it belonged -- not shattering through her skin. The sight was almost sickening to watch, as if she was suffering her attack but in reverse.
"It won't be fully healed, and will need to be kept in a sling for awhile but that should help ease the pain."
"Th..." Reiss tried to wiggle it against the belt but her elbow refused to communicate down her fingers. "Thank you," she whispered.
Lana closed her eyes as she leaned back against the wall, her fingers back to worrying up and down her lap as if they itched terribly. "Soldier's bravado?"
"Hm?" Reiss slid back and forth on her legs, surprised to find herself capable of more without the constant pain beating her down.
"Why you didn't want me to heal you? It's either fear of mages or soldier's bravado that pain will make you stronger. As idiotic as it sounds."
"No it," Reiss gulped, "your...the Commander told me to make certain you didn't overexert yourself when casting m
agic. He said I should keep you from killing yourself."
That caused her to open one eye, a brow lifting higher as Lana turned on her, "Did he now?"
"Ah, sort of, yes. I was afraid that...I mean, this isn't life threatening, and if it hurt you..."
Lana dismissed her apologies with the wave of her hand, "Don't worry about it. I'm made of sterner stuff." She lapsed into silence, the deafening kind where the air thickened with every unspoken word knocking hard against Reiss' head. It kept reverberating that she should say something, but damn if she knew what. Even thinking Alistair's name clogged up her throat, speaking it aloud might be what did her in.
"It's a lucky thing," Lana's voice cut through the oppressive atmosphere. "You showing up when you did, protecting him and all." Her words seemed full of praise, but the tone was damning. She'd been distant before, but with exhaustion and fear stripping away whatever facade the woman wore to heal professionally the metaphorical gloves were off.
Reiss accepted the anger, her head hanging low as she whispered, "I should have been here before, never have given them an opportunity."
She didn't answer that, but Reiss could feel the nod of, "Yes, you damn well should have." Shifting on her weary bones, Lana ran her fingers over the handle of her cane, as if tracing something underneath it. Her breath slowed as she kept repeating the pattern. Either she was working up the courage or the energy to tell Reiss off for endangering the King. No, for endangering her friend and someone so dear to her. As if Reiss wasn't already crumbling inside for it.
"Here," Cullen softly jogged across the creaking wood floor to deposit a mass of berries and nuts into Lana's hand.
The offering vanished quickly, her fingers plucking each up as she swallowed. In between bites, she turned to her husband to say, "The one time my pockets are empty. Not even a slice of bread in here."
His fingers curled over the back of her neck and down to pat her shoulders. Always protecting her. Reiss tried to not think on the fact that one of the most well known templars in thedas was now actively hiding an apostate. Announcing that fact would probably turn both of them against her.
Chewing apart the last of the berries, Lana began to stagger up to her feet. "Thanks, that should be enough to last me for a few more hours," she jammed her cane under her and moved a step towards the door, when Cullen's fingers gripped onto her shoulder.
"No, you've put in enough. You're exhausted beyond measure, Lana. Bed is the only place you belong."
That earned him a near on growl and a massive eye roll. "For the love of the Maker, Cullen, not..."
"This is not up for debate," he thundered. "You went through four vials, alone." That paused her, Lana's eyes skirting down to the ground. "It's been a long day, and...you won't do him any good so fatigued you can't stand." Butting his forehead to hers, he drew his hand up to her cheek and whispered, "You know that."
She sneered, her head turning to the side to break the contact. Reiss braced herself for an oncoming couple fight, potentially with magic thrown in. But Cullen broke it all away by pressing his lips to her cheek and in a wobbling voice say, "I don't want to lose you."
That steel certainty melted away, and Lana wrapped a hand around the back of the one her husband pinned to her cheek.
"Now," Cullen coughed, the emotion cracking off his voice, "do I have to carry you bed or..."
For a brief second, the Hero chuckled, "No, I can walk. But someone should stay with him in case..." Her head rotated over her shoulder and the eyes almost softened on Reiss. "Sit with him, please. Just watch, make sure that he's stable. And if anything changes."
"I'll come find you, right away," Reiss swore, absently saluting which brought her fist right into her broken arm. With the numbing still floating through her system it felt like she punched a block of cottony wood instead.
Accepting that she had no say in her own life, Lana hooked an arm around her husband's shoulders and he led her away towards a bedroom. Reiss glared down at her broken arm as she heard the steps creaking down the hall. She should do this, she had to do this. No one else could.
Her fingers fumbled for the door latch, as if the numbing spell was affecting her entire body. But no, it was her brain scampering in fear that despite the Hero's words she'd open that door and find him dead. That even with her all, she'd failed him by being selfish and stupid. Swallowing it all down, Reiss pushed it open and slipped inside.
Lana took the time to tug the blankets up around Alistair's shoulders, but she must not have been able to pull his ripped shirt off. His skin looked as deathly pale as Reiss remembered, with a yellow twinge offset even worse against the tan bedding. Grabbing onto a chair, Reiss dragged it across the ground. She wasn't able to fully lift it one handed and winced at the horrific sound, but it didn't cause the King to stir. He had his head propped up on two pillows, his mouth slightly open as he gasped for air to fill his body anyway it could.
Dropping into the chair, Reiss stared down at him and a thought struck her. If she'd been happy with what he offered her he wouldn't be near death. She'd be watching him sleep in her arms instead of dangling on the edge with a deadly knife wound infecting his guts. Damn her weak heart.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to the air. "I'm sorry I didn't..." Flecks of blood decorated his face like sprinkles on a cake. Someone, probably one of the servants, left a water basin near the bed. Tugging out an old and dingy kerchief, Reiss dabbed it in the water and tried to wipe away the blood. Was it his or hers?
"I wish I could be the one. That I didn't keep thinking about everything that will go wrong, could go wrong. I want to be. I tried to be once, but it..." Reiss drew the cloth back through the water, her mind rolling over Ethan. She lost herself for no reason other than wanting to matter to someone. To be noticed. It was a mistake forever marked not on her body but in her mind. She still felt it sometimes, his words rotting through her soul more than any blade wound ever did.
"You're so much better than I ever thought was possible," Reiss gasped, her fingers releasing the kerchief. It bloomed in the cold water, slowly hovering in between the surface and bottom of the bowl. "I never imagined meeting someone like you, falling for someone like you."
Tears dripped down her cheeks, each one filled with her stupid little failures. What did she want? People kept asking it, but they didn't understand. Her life hadn't been one of want. It was always need. She needed to survive, and in order to do that she needed food, shelter, the promise that tomorrow would come. Wants didn't filter into that. Want was a necessity that only led to more pain.
Maker take her, but she wanted him. Digging under the blanket, Reiss fished out his fingers. Even after dragging hers through the water, his felt cold in her hand. Almost as if they were preserved in ice, unreachable to her. How often did she watch those fingers tug up his hair, wrap around his daughter, cuddle his infant son, and hold her? And she walked away from it. She nearly doomed them to never rise again.
"I love you," Reiss whispered, "I should have said it before, or trusted in my gut, done something else. I don't know, I wish I did because I just keep thinking if I got it right then...none of this would have happened. You'd be safe, you'd be... You'd be better off if you'd never have met me. If you'd fallen for the mage. All I did was walk into your life and ruin it." Her head hung low, the tears falling so freely she couldn't see anything through the fog tearing apart her insides. Blessed Andraste, how could she live with herself if he died? The world would despise her, would call for her head, and she'd gladly give it up.
Despair ransacked her resolve, and Reiss buried her head against the blanket. Through it she could feel the slow intake of a breath. Even while slipping further into the dark abyss, she matched it in kind, needing to feel some connection to him. In and out. She didn't need him. In and out. But damn it all, she wanted him. In. Too bad, Rat. Out. Because you already ruined it.
"Reiss..."
It took a moment for her ears to register that the voice was real. She sat up qui
ckly, blood rushing to her head. Sweet brown eyes blinked up at her, and Alistair tried to attempt a limp smile.
"Sweet Maker," she gasped, wishing she could wipe away the tears clogging her view of him awake. But she wouldn't let go of her grip to his fingers. He watched her a moment longer before his eyes began to slide shut.
Reiss sat forward, her cheek pressing against his cold one. "Stay with me," she pleaded, those blighted tears running down to pool where her skin met his. "Please, stay with me."
He didn't open his eyes again, but in a strained voice Alistair whispered, "Okay."
CHAPTER FIFTY
Endgame
Cade was out in the field when the first raven dove through the sky. The band around its leg denoted it was carrying a message, the black color said it wasn't good. Without anyone questioning it, he shot the bird down before it finished its flight to the castle.
"King Alistair gravely injured. Near death. Send reinforcements quickly."
Crumpling the note up and tossing it to the fire, he kicked the dead bird into the dirt, snagged the best horse the palace owned and headed towards the west. He'd never been privy to the King's private getaways, the leader of an army not what one wanted while off doing whatever decadent and immoral thing royalty got up to. But Cade knew how to find it, knew ever tiny hamlet and small shack that cropped up across Ferelden.
Pulling the horse to a standstill, he tumbled off the thing three days after snagging the raven out of the sky. Others had flown above him, a few he shot down and left to rot where they landed, but some slipped past. There'd be people on his heels, the Chancellor no doubt taking the message seriously and perhaps wondering what happened to the first. But they didn't know Ferelden the way Cade did. They sat in their tea parlors and glass houses sipping the wine carted out of the fields off the backs of men like Cade.
A handful of servants scurried back and forth in the courtyard of the lodge. Most didn't bat an eye at the man in uniform, but one of the larger types was left in front of the door.
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