One thing Arian didn't expect when she woke up that morning was to find almost every soldier in the Inquisition running around like their clothes were blazing with fire.

And yet here she stood in front of the Chantry, a half of the recruits and lieutenants all bickering and pointing fingers at one another, while the other half were running in and out of the building in a disorganized frenzy. It was only when Cassandra exited the sanctum with a few saner-looking soldiers did the elf decide to go and investigate, seeing as if she asked anyone she had currently been observing, they'd more than likely begin frothing at the mouth.

"Cassandra? Care to explain what all the turmoil is about?" Arian asked, gesturing to the fuss going on around them as she approached the Seeker. Cassandra excused those accompanying her and turned back to the Herald, her expression somewhat resentful.

"I assume no one woke you to tell you what happened," the Seeker started, a sigh escaping her mouth. "The Commander and a troupe of more seasoned recruits set out to the Exalted Plains yesterday evening and were ambushed by bandits on the main road. One of them, a rogue it would seem, managed to inflict a severe wound to the Commander's side. They were able to make it back here this morning, but Cullen is unresponsive. We think he might've been poisoned by the weapon the rogue used."

Arian could suddenly feel her heart clench in her chest upon hearing the information. No, it's not possible, she thought. Cullen was so determined, so accurate about everything he did. How and why did he manage to get hurt, and so badly at that?

"You're sure he hasn't awoken?" Arian asked, her voice almost betraying the worry she felt.

Cassandra just shook her head, but turned to head back into the Chantry, enticing the elf to follow. "Not since he was brought back here," the other woman explained. "You can see him for yourself if you wish, we have almost every healer present in Haven trying to revive him. If you're worried for him, just know he's been through worse."

Arian swallowed, trying to break down the anxiety nipping at her insides. "I'm not afraid of losing him, I know he can pull through this."

"Let us hope so, I pray we don't lose him to something so simple. He's done wonders for our army in the time he's led them," Cassandra muttered with an edge of confidence to her tone. She turned to head down a specific hallway in the sanctuary, before stopping at a door and opening it slowly. Peaking inside briefly, Arian saw about five healers all kneeling around a cot on the floor, various medicinal vials and containers spread out in different places around them. One turned in alarm to look at the intruders, relaxing only when she saw Cassandra's face.

"Lady Cassandra, we've managed to clean the wound and filter out most of the toxins that were present, but I'm afraid it's going to take a while for him to recover. He's in a comatose state at the moment, but he is stable. For right now he'll just need to rest until we can determine what needs to be done further."

The Seeker nodded in understanding. "Thank you, all of you, for your help. If you'll excuse us, now," she then said, gesturing to the door. The healers all stood, bowing to both Cassandra and Arian briefly before filing out the door one by one. Once they were out of the way, Arian turned her head to view Cullen on the floor and immediately a gasp escaped her mouth.

He was perspiring and dangerously pale, his normally plump cheeks sunken in from the effects of whatever toxin had infiltrated his body. The elf's utter shock must've gotten Cassandra's attention, because when she turned to question the Seeker, she was already staring at her in concern.

"All we can do now is pray and wait," Cassandra said quietly, like she had a response prepared. Walking over to the Commander's side, the woman knelt down and closed her eyes, seemingly going into meditation of the Maker's blessing on the man. Although Arian wasn't devout in the religion of the Chantry, she knew it would provide comfort to Cassandra, and possibly within herself. Therefore she knelt down on the other side of Cullen and bowed her head, praying to whatever gods were listening that he'd make it through this.

Eventually Cassandra left to attend to other duties, leaving the Herald alone with the bedridden man. For a while she just sat in silence, her eyes wandering around the small, dimly-lit room. But try as she may, her gaze always seemed to find its way back to him, even as sickly as he looked at the moment. His eyelashes were so long, the same shade of sandy blonde as his brows, which were thick and set in a determined line even in his sleep. The stubble of his jaw and neck made him look gruff yet gentlemanly, the fullness of his scarred lips looking so sweet and tender in comparison. Even the angled point of his sculpted nose- so...so...

Arian stopped herself with the shake of her head. What in Thedas was she doing? Sure he was handsome but that didn't provide an excuse to ogle over him like some lovesick adolescent. Especially with him being unconscious like this, it just made the whole situation shameful.

Why was she staring at him like this anyway?

As she pondered these things, Cullen began muttering gibberish in his sleep, his head turning this way and that a few times. The muttering evolved into a slight thrashing after a few seconds, one of the Commander's arms flailing out to his side and almost hitting Arian in the face. Unsure of how to react, the elf gently brought her hand to Cullen's cheek, stroking the sweaty skin there a few times with the pad of her thumb and emitting barely audible shushing sounds. To her relief, the man stopped his waking nightmare for a moment, but to her horror his eyelids peeled open instead and then he was looking straight at her with bloodshot eyes.

"Cullen, I-" the elf stuttered. What did you say to a man you had previously been gazing foolishly at like some god?

The Commander blinked a few times, perhaps trying to readjust his vision from the aftereffects of his healing, and then his lips broke into warm smile. Arian's breath hitched as her heart began to thunder beneath her rib cage.

"A-are..." Cullen croaked hoarsely, "Are you...Andraste? Are you here to take me away?"

The Herald just sputtered, unsure of how to respond to such a question. The man was obviously delirious, she could tell him anything in that moment and he'd likely believe it.

"No, Cullen," she answered calmly, her fingers coming up past his forehead to run through the dampened curls of his hair when he looked at her indifferently, "It's me, Arian. The Herald, remember?"

Though he were deeply contemplating what she had just said, the man's brow dipped into a V. Her own brows twisted curiously when his entire demeanor changed in a split second, as he had started to giggle boyishly, not even a single laugh but a continuous string of bubbling chuckles.

"Ohhh, how foolish of meee," he snickered, his head rolling back with laughter. "Of course you're not Andraste! You're far too beautiful to be some dead person," he drawled, his hand flying upward to twirl in the air and then falling back behind his head. Arian gaped at the Commander; she wasn't really sure how to react to what she was currently seeing.

"Cullen, I think you should keep resting," she finally said after she watched him stare cross-eyed at his own nose for almost a minute. He broke his concentration to look back at her, his previous smile morphing into a disheartening frown.

"Are you tired of me?" He asked sadly, his hand reaching up to cover the smaller one she still had tangled in his hair. Despite her effort to remain steadfast the elf just gawked at him, before mentally slapping herself and briskly negating her head in response. Cullen sighed, dropping his hand and turning away from her like she had wounded him.

"It's okay," he murmured, his eyes drooping suddenly. "I suppose I deserve it..."

"Cullen what do you-" but before she could finish her question he was snoring lightly, his eyes completely shut once more.

Arian let out the breath she didn't realize was trapped in her lungs and stood to her feet, perhaps much quicker than she intended. She needed to leave before her cheeks flushed so red they turned purple. Stepping outside of the room, she swiftly found her way outside of the Chantry, the cool snowy air immediately bringing her much-needed relief.

As her back rested against the doors to the building and she tried to remind herself to breathe, the comments the Commander had said in his deluded state, as well as the little thoughts that had rushed through her mind while she had watched him sleep plagued her in a routinely fashion. Groaning, she slapped a hand to her forehead, hoping perhaps that it would physically snap her out of what she indeed knew she was beginning to experience.

"You can't fall for him," she protested aloud in a harsh whisper, "We're at war, he's a human of higher class, Commander of an entire army, those alone should be reasons why this can't happen!" Yet still, as she tried to talk herself out of it the mental image of the Ex-Templar laying there on his cot, looking up into her eyes like he was unworthy of her very presence continued to burn into her memory. Also even if he had been under the influence of the poison, those kinds of words he had said didn't just spill from someone's lips without reason!

She sighed then, deep and determined.

"It's hopeless, Arian," she finally told herself, kicking a rock at her feet into a pile of snow nearby. "He was just delusional. And you're Dalish. A...a knife-ear. It will never happen."