This is the abridged version of the chapter. The extended cut can be found on my tumblr (azdesertwillow) or on my AO3 (desertwillow).

"I will reshape the world to my will, starting with the tool."

Caitlin came slowly to wakefulness because of the rough, shaking fingers tracing her branching vallaslin. Her green eyes met hazel ones, watching her full of wonder and worry.

"Cullen?"

Once he realized she was awake, his expression slipped from worried to anguished. "Maker, Cat, I didn't mean to wake you." His voice was coming in gasps, like he'd just run drills in the yard.

The Inquisitor stifled a yawn, wiping away the drool and hair stuck to her face. "What are you doing up, vhenan?"

She received no reply and he turned to look away, watching the fire, the shadows, anything to avoid meeting her gaze.

More awake now, Caitlin placed a hand against his cheek. Beneath the ever present stubble, his skin was clammy and cold; she felt him tremble despite the warmth from the hearth. "Cullen, talk to me. What's the matter?"

She was sure it was one of his nightmares, but she didn't understand his reticence. Cullen had woken her up plenty of times with his thrashing. She would pull him from the Fade, and he'd brush off the dream like a broken quill point: an unavoidable annoyance. Normally, he would hold her against his broad chest, give her a kiss, and be snoring shortly after.

Instead he rolled away, pulling the blanket around him. "It's nothing. Just a nightmare. Sorry I woke you." There was a finality in his tone that gave her pause. She'd only heard him speak like this when ordering his men — or on bad days when he had pushed himself too far.

She could see the sheen of moisture on his neck, his hair a mess of tight, sweat-dark curls.

She scooted forward to comb his hair with her fingers, letting them trail down his neck as she replied. "I woke you up plenty after Adamant with my own nightmares." An involuntary shiver rolled up her spine, as it did every time she remembered the spiders. Her old scars shone in the firelight as she shifted, a permanent reminder of the horrible monsters.

"That was different," he insisted.

She arched an eyebrow. "How?"

He sat up, leaning forward to brace himself on his forearms. The hair she had been playing with stood up like a mabari's hackles. "You're on the frontlines, all the time. You should take every chance you have for rest, and I should do everything in my power to help, even if it means losing a few hours of sleep."

"So this," she waved at the space between them, "is just to make sure that the Herald of Andraste is in fighting condition?"

His eyes finally snapped to hers, horrified at the implication. "Maker, no!" His shoulders fell, the tension within breaking. "I-I didn't mean—" He swallowed. "I wanted to comfort you! I didn't like seeing you hurting and scared."

"But I'm just supposed to roll over and go back to sleep when I find you like this?" She sat up, and gave his trembling hand a reassuring squeeze with her own. When he audibly gulped but still remained silent, she continued, hoping to draw him out, "I was made my clan's First when I was seven. I have never shown any hint of fear to anyone since then, worried they'd think me susceptible to possession. That was until I met you." She brushed her hand down his face; shadows from the fire revealed the ghost of a smile there.

"Mages are allowed to have feelings. Your Keeper didn't teach you that?"

Unless you're made Tranquil, she thought. But that was unfair, and she kept the comment to herself.

"I'm sure she must have tried at some point. I probably ignored her." That got the chuckle she was aiming for, even if it was a bit shakier than she would have liked.

"I didn't want anyone to think me weak," she continued more seriously. "I didn't just find the nearest available shoulder to cry on; I came to you because I love and trust you. No one else has seen me like that since I was a child. I want to be able to do the same for you. So, please, talk to me."

He shook his head. "I-It was— Maker, it was just a memory from when the Ferelden tower fell. A friend died, and I—" He fell back onto the pillows with a firm thud that shook the large bed. His voice was thick, as if his tongue were a palpable weight. He took a deep breath and rubbed a hand across his face, as if trying to wake himself up or wipe the dream away. "I haven't had that particular dream in years. I just—" He heaved a frustrated sigh when he couldn't find the words. "It's ridiculous." He looked over at her with resignation.

Now that Cullen was actually talking to her, she felt the worried knot in her stomach unfurl. She started to untangle herself from the sheet she'd kicked toward the foot of the bed in her sleep.

She leaned over him, pushing a corkscrew curl away from his forehead.

"It's not ridiculous if it affects you this much," she told him firmly. She rested her hand on his temple, gently soothing away the wrinkles across his brow; it was scrunched up, as if he were fighting one of his headaches. Despite his previous reluctance, he immediately nuzzled into her touch. He kissed her palm when it came near his dry lips, covering her small hand with his own.

She only noticed her diminutive size when he was gentle with her. Facing down a high dragon? A giant qunari threatening to play toss the elf? Standing in a crowd of shemlens that she couldn't even see over? She could take them all down if she had to, and she knew it.

But one former templar putting her hand in his, and she was asking herself how she even functioned with her tiny, tiny hands.

Simply reorganizing his tousled hair had made a difference. The pinched look was starting to disappear, and he wasn't shaking as badly. She threw a pale leg over his hips and sat down.

It had taken Cullen a while to trust her enough to use even a little bit of magic. Now, he just relaxed into the mattress, tension melting away as her magically warmed fingertips relieved the pain he was too proud to acknowledge.

His hands came up to rest against the underside of her bare thighs, his thumbs mirroring the circles she was rubbing along his head.

"Her name was Surana. She was an elf— a mage who had just gone through her Harrowing- my first Harrowing. After she was killed in the rebellion, a demon took her form while it—" he stopped when his voice cracked. He swallowed and his eyes flickered toward the dark window facing the courtyard.

Caitlin continued to massage his head in silence. It had taken her long enough to get him to this point; she wouldn't push him.

He lips were thinned out as he gathered his thoughts. "I-I had a bit of a crush on her," he confessed, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

"On a mage?" she blurted out, stopping her massage.

"Nothing happened," he swore. "Nothing ever could happen. She was my charge and it would have been improper."

She resumed rubbing his scalp. "The demons- they used it against me. Took her form when they tortured me. When I woke up next to you…" He took a steadying breath. "Lyrium can make you hallucinate, but so can the withdrawal. I just- I needed to make sure you were really here with me."

"Would sleeping separately be better, or—"

She started to pull her hands back but he captured them with his own, bringing her words to a halt.

He didn't continue speaking until he had caught her in his gaze. There was an intensity in his eyes usually reserved for staring down his soldiers. "You being here helped." She watched his Adam's apple bob while he tried to find the words. "It used to take me a while to shake that dream off. It's easier now; you make it easier."

She smiled softly at his confession and nodded her understanding. He put his hand back on her thigh and eased into his pillow.

"It's late," he murmured, hands now running down her back and along her bottom. "You should go back to sleep. You said you wanted to leave for Emprise tomorrow?"

Caitlin shrugged her agreement. "No official plan though. I can leave whenever. Rather hoped I could get away with lounging around in bed all morning with my advisors none the wiser." She gave him a wicked grin. "Well, one might figure me out…"

She caught his chin in her hand and dragged her thumb across his lips. "I'm going to miss you."

Her admission was rewarded with a sweet, boyish smile, chasing the past horrors away. "I'll miss you too. I warn you though…" He smirked confidently. "I'm going to reset the board to undo all of your cheating."

She scoffed and stabbed her finger at his sternum. "I do not cheat, serah."

He arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "Then how did my queen suddenly go missing?" he deadpanned. "Because I'm certain you had yet to capture her."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Caitlin sniffed haughtily. The white marble piece was actually hidden in the top drawer of the desk on the other side of the room, kept company by a knight and a pawn.

He stared her down. "And I'm sure that my mage wasn't next to your pawn, just waiting for you to take it."

She rolled her eyes dismissively. "It's been over a week since we started that game. There's no possible way you could remember."

"It's not possible for me to have both mages on white, love."

Shit.

His stupid tactical mind always got her in trouble.

He cocked his head, waiting for her reply. "No denial?"

Alright, best to play dirty.

"I love you?"

His expression softened with a quirk of his scarred lip, but there was a gleam in his eyes. It wasn't going to be that easy.

"I love you, too." He leaned up to kiss her. She leaned forward to oblige him, but before their lips met, "Expect the board to be reset when you get home."

She shoved him back down, but he just laced his hands behind his head, a conceited grin spreading across his face.

She glared down at him. "Dorian's right. You're insufferable when you get smug."

He just chuckled and continued to smirk.

He needed to be stopped.

She covered his mouth with hers, and the response was instant. He slid his arms around her body and pressed her into him deepening the kiss. It was almost as if he had predicted her response, and she had played right into his trap.

Stupid tactical mind.

His mouth parted and she enjoyed the feel of his warm tongue sweeping across her chapped lips. She opened for him and let her own tongue taste his.

It was slow, sweet — languorous even, but it held the hunger always present in their more intimate kisses. Cullen put his hands on either side of her face and rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs. She let him take his time; if she was going to leave the next day, she would need the memories of his lips just as much as he would of hers.

Later, after they had spent themselves, she relaxed against Cullen's chest, laying her head on his shoulder, listening to his panting breath and her hammering heart. His hands ran up and down her back, alternating from light finger grazing to his full palm covering her sweat dampened back, holding her close to him.

"You are very good at that." She had intended to sound matter-of-fact, like she was discussing troop movements or the dinner menu, but it was ruined by her breathlessness.

His own voice came in light gasps. "'m glad you think so."

She could feel his cooling seed drip from her and the light was now dim, the fire having died down to embers.

"I should put another log on the fire," she whispered.

His large hands swept up and down her back. "I'm fine," he replied, guessing correctly that it was for his benefit and not hers.

"You're fine now," she asserted, "but I'm going to kick the blanket off in the night, and even a Fereldan would think the Frostbacks cold in the morning."

Eventually, reluctantly, she got out of the bed.

Still a little weak kneed and tripping over the plush carpet, she padded over to her bookshelf and grabbed the potion of silphium she needed to drink to prevent any unexpected curly haired, elf-blooded babies from popping up. As unopposed to the idea as she was, it wouldn't do until Corypheus and the fade rifts were dealt with once and for all.

She threw a few logs on the fire. Personally, she was always just a little too warm, but if she didn't do it, Cullen would just stubbornly ignore it and the cold tended to make the withdrawal pains worse. If he ignored it, it would go away. It was why he always told the builders that the hole in his roof was fine and to go and work on something else. Acknowledging the pain gave it power. Or something. She just assumed he'd like to not sleep in the snow.

When she stood up and glanced back at the bed, Cullen was leaning on his arm, watching her, eyes molten in the renewed firelight. He had pulled the blanket up to his hips, his free arm casually draped across his side.

"I should have that painted," she commented lightly.

She watched his brows draw together. "Have what painted?"

"You, looking very smug and relaxed. The very picture of a well-used lover." He snorted in reply. "I'm sure it would be a great cover for one of Varric's novels." She paused, thinking. "Actually, I think that cover already exists. I think I own it."

She could practically hear him roll his eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised. You have terrible taste in books." He raised his hand, crooked his index finger. "Now come back here."

Caitlin sauntered back to her large and ridiculously ornate bed. He dragged her down, wrapping the blanket over them both.

She curled up to him, and he rested his forehead against hers. "What did I do to deserve you?".

"I think leading an army to stop an evil magister darkspawn thing seems at least enough to earn a girl who hogs the bed and never takes anything seriously."

He chuckled. "I guess you're right." He placed a kiss across her brow, and she heard him inhale deeply.

He shifted them so they could comfortably look into each others eyes, tucking her hair behind her ear once again.

"I'm betting you'll be up before me," she said.

He nodded nonchalantly. "Probably."

"You should wake me when you get up. Otherwise I'll just sleep the day away and never get around to leaving."

He started to pull away. "I really didn't mean to wake you. I—"

"Cullen," she pressed a finger to his lips, cutting him off. "It's fine. I promise." She slipped a leg between his own and rubbed herself against him to make her point clear. "I really didn't mind," she stressed. "It was more a remark on my own laziness than about any late night activities I may have enjoyed."

"May have?" His hand wrapped behind her small head, and he pulled her into a scalding kiss. Between the wet tongue fully exploring her mouth and the fingers teasing her ear once more, she was beginning to get her second wind. She returned his enthusiasm and dragged her nails softly down his chest, going lower and lower. He moved his hand, placing it on hers, stopping her midway to her goal.

"It's not that I'm not up for it, and I'd admit to not being ready to sleep. But if we start, it would be a while before I would willingly let you go." His voice was husky still.

She gave him that coy smile once more. "Promise?"

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You were just saying how hard it's going to be getting up in the morning."

"Fine. Be all responsible." She rubbed a thumb down his lips. "But I demand a raincheck."

He nipped at her. "You'll get it." A kiss. "I swear."

She settled back down, but at a more chaste distance. Like he had been doing when she woke up, Cullen resumed tracing her vallaslin.

"Did you intend for it to match your eyes?" he asked.

"Not on purpose," she huffed. "I wanted it to be like the forest where we sometimes camped in winter. Big pine trees that stay green all year. I think harhen — my Keeper, I mean — altered the color I picked out to make it closer to my eyes, though."

"Well, it does look like pine trees now that you mention it. It suits you, I think."

"I do, too — but I was so annoyed at the time. I didn't make a sound through the whole ceremony, but oh did I yell once I got a good look at it. My brother kept having to smack my hands to stop me from picking at it, not letting it heal right."

He gave her a soft, fond smile. "It means something, correct?"

She pondered how to describe it. "More like represents something. They're symbols of our gods. Mine is for Mythal."

"Did you pick her — him — for a reason?" He propped his head back on his arm, eyes wide as he looked over the winding branches. She hadn't realized he was so curious about Dalish culture.

"Her," she answered, "and at the time, I would have sworn up and down that I picked Her because She's the Great Protector, representing my duty as the clan's future Keeper."

An eyebrow raised in amusement, knowing her general dislike about being the First of her clan. "And the real reason?"

She sighed, leaning in to share her great secret, lowering her voice to block out the copious amount of eavesdroppers laying in wait in her empty room. He matched her position, glancing around, checking for spies as well. "I picked it because I just thought it was pretty. And," she looked down, feeling her cheeks start to flame, "She's also the goddess of love."

"Quite the romantic in your youth?" The quirk of his lips as he snickered tugged at his scar and her heart… among other things.

"More like a silly thing, chasing after a man several years her senior. I hoped that Mythal would help me if I honored her." After Cullen sharing his youthful crush, she wished to give them equal footing by sharing her own.

"What happened?"

"Nothing." She gave an artless shrug, mangled from her position on her side. "I got older, realized he just thought of me as a child. And, I realized he was spectacularly dull." She pulled a face in revulsion.

His hazel eyes were warm and soft and finally starting to grow drowsy. "It worked in your favor in the end." As usual, his natural shyness overtook his military bred self-assurance. If his position had allowed it, she was sure he'd be nervously rubbing his neck. "I-I mean, that is—I hope that I prove to be a more interesting companion."

"Much." She gave him a quick kiss to punctuate her point. "I can't imagine you ever trying to give me a lecture on the different kinds of halla dung."

He rolled onto his back, roaring with laughter. "Maker's mercy, I hope not!" She loved hearing his laugh. It was this rich thing that warmed her every time, and always lower pitched than she expected, like it was coming from deep within him.

"Good." She followed him and nestled into his embrace, his arm curling securely around her. "And as long as you don't, I have every intention of keeping you around."

"Good." He kissed her vallaslin once more and she laid a leg over him.

Though he seemed truly settled, she worried about how Cullen would handle the time apart. She had rarely seen him so shaken by a nightmare.

Eventually, she managed to drifted back to the Fade with the sound of the crackling of the fire in her ears and the feel of her lover under her cheek, softly snoring, off in his own dreams.