Note: This story is set after the main events of the Trespasser DLC. Spoilers ahead.

Chapter 1

It was a week after the closing of the Exalted Council and the Inquisitor and her entourage were preparing to return to Skyhold. Even though many details were still to be resolved, the future of the Inquisition had been decided upon; it would remain as a peace keeping force and a personal honour guard to Divine Victoria.

Although Cullen had known the Exalted Council would result in a change to the Inquisition, he never thought it would have such an impact on his new wife. She had mostly managed to hold it together in public at least, since returning from the 'Crossroads', the place beyond the Eluvian. But in the privacy of their room in the Winter Palace and once or twice during meetings with her advisors her calm demeanour had slipped, exposing the hurt and the worry she was feeling inside.

Early on the morning of leaving the Winter Palace, Cullen lay awake in bed, loathe to wake his sleeping wife. She had been sleeping so poorly, plagued by pain and nightmares, that periods of undisturbed sleep had become a luxury. As he watched her sleeping he saw a frown wrinkle her forehead and heard a soft whimper escape her lips. Pulling her close with one arm, he delicately traced the flowing lines of Vallaslin with a finger, a way he'd discovered to gently rouse her from a nightmare. After a few moments, Inquisitor Nherrin Lavellan sleepily opened her eyes.

"Another nightmare, love?" Cullen asked, his lips brushing her forehead. She did not reply but instead buried her face in his neck and in silence they held each other. After a few minutes Nherrin pulled away and sat up, her right hand absent-mindedly fiddling with the simple wedding ring held on a chain around her neck.

"You've not been watching me all night, have you? You need sleep too. I'm sure the pain will ease eventually." She flashed him a small smile before wincing and rubbing her left arm, well, what remained of it. "As for the nightmares, I know you still have them as well."

"I am only doing what you did for me when I was in the worst of the lyrium withdrawal. Here," Cullen sat up and moved a hand towards her stump. "Let me…"

Nherrin flinched away from his hand. "No, Cullen. I don't want you to touch it. Please…"

"Alright, I won't." He sighed and instead brushed her hair back, exposing bare shoulder and placing light kisses upon it. He had seen soldiers lose limbs before and how many took months or years to come to terms with a part of them that wasn't there anymore. Some never fully accepted it.

Her marked hand had been her preferred one, a fact clearly evident when she absentmindedly reached out to pick up a cup, or brush her hair back behind her pointed ears. The distress visible in her expression when she realised hurt him to see. But she refused to be mollycoddled, even once lashing out and shouting at a serving elf. The girl had only held out a chair for her to sit during the first meeting with her advisors since her injury. "In case the Inquisitor does not feel strong enough to stand." The girl had mumbled reverently which had fanned the Inquisitor's flames of frustration into a flamethrower of anger. Not long after, the girl fled the room.

"A little much, perhaps?" Josephine had said, wincing at the scowl that was briefly directed at her before melting away into a tired expression. Nherrin pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I'm sorry Josephine. I shall have to apologise to that poor girl." The Inquisitor gestured towards the offending piece of furniture with her pointed chin. "I'm still the Inquisitor. I don't need to be treated as if I'm made of glass."

The briefest of concerned glances between the three advisors told Cullen that they had noticed the Inquisitor's struggle as well. Her body trembled ever so slightly and she leant heavily on the table for support throughout their discussions. All four of them knew a handful of days was not enough time to really begin recovering from the trauma of an amputation but Nherrin's advisors respected her determination and nothing beyond Council business was said.

His wife was absurdly stubborn. As they left the room set aside for the Inquisition's council she had gently refused his offered arm, insisting that she was in perfect health, before striding off. Cullen followed dutifully behind as they made their way back to their quarters. The pair had not even gone half way before she began to crumple before him. Cullen deftly caught her before she collapsed entirely and scooped up her shaking legs to carry her. Thankfully for Nherrin's pride they were in one of the quieter areas of the palace.

His chin rested against on top of her head as her arms snaked around his neck. "You don't need to prove your strength for me." He said in a low voice. "No one should blame you for valuing your health or taking the time you need to recover. The Inquisition isn't going anywhere now." Nherrin sighed, fingers playing with the short hair on the back of his neck.

"Even if the Inquisition is safe our independence has gone. Treating me like an invalid only reminds me that I've lost my own independence as well." Cullen frowned and continued in silence to their quarters.

Once they were inside he set her down gently on the bed. Then he returned to the door to close it and shut out the world, leaving them alone. "What do you mean, lost your independence?" He asked, coming to sit beside her.

"Well, my adventuring days are over for one, but I need help to ready myself in a morning. I can't even go for a simple walk in the gardens without feeling eyes upon me, watching in case I keel over at any moment." He put an arm around her and pulled her close. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as she nuzzled against his neck.

"I'm sure it will get better with time as everyone gets used to the situation." His fingers softly stroked her side. "Right now, we're all worried about you. What you've been through is not a small thing."

"I can still feel my hand, even though when I look down it's not there anymore…I can even feel the mark from time to time, especially in my dreams. If you touch the end of my arm... it's not right that it's not my hand..." She leaned against him and closed her eyes, careful to hold her left arm out of the way. "Still, we're heading home today."

"Good. I'll be glad to get away from this place."

"Half of the women of the Court are still fawning over you, you know."

"Hang the women of the Court, I married the only woman I will ever want." He swept her back down onto the bed, one leg easing between hers and captured her lips with his. The kiss was slow and sensual and when they separated, Cullen propped himself up on his arms and simply looked at her. Her flame red hair fanning about her head on the pillow, her bright green eyes gazing lovingly at him.

"Maker's breath, you are beautiful. My wife." He whispered. Nherrin's cheeks began to flush under his scrutiny and she giggled. "I'm still getting used to saying that."

"But I will never get tired of hearing it, husband."

Cullen leant in for another kiss, making a small sound of delight as his wife's hand started to move from its resting place at his waist, gliding over the skin at his hip and further down. But all the fun was spoilt by an insistent knocking at the door to their room.

"My Lady Inquisitor? Her Holiness, Divine Victoria requests your presence as soon as it is convenient. The Commander as well."

Letting out a deep sigh, Nherrin called out her response. "Please inform Her Holiness that we shall join her directly." She sat up as Cullen rolled off of her and threw back the covers. "It seems that our time together once again must take a backseat to duty. You would have thought with everything that has happened in the last few years we would have earned a few mornings in bed, undisturbed."

Standing, she was silhouetted by the morning sunlight. Although her body was slender like all Elves, the lines of her smooth curves and lightly defined muscles were visible, evidence of years of using her staff in battle. He had memorised all of her scars, when they had been gained and what they felt like under his fingertips. Cullen didn't know if he would ever fail to be fascinated by her. The Maker had certainly brought her into his life, it didn't matter that it wasn't Andraste who guided her from the Fade at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. He had known of the seeds of his affection since the attack on Haven, and those had blossomed during their time at Skyhold into a deep love that was inescapable, even if he wished it so.

She had sacrificed so much, for all of Thedas, despite never asking for the responsibility thrust upon her. She had shouldered it with little complaint, seeking to help all of those around her and it pained him that through a cruel twist of fate her hand and most of her forearm was the price she had had to pay. Still, it was far better than the alternative of her death. He didn't know what he would have done. With everything that he'd been through since the fall of the Fereldan Circle he might have just given up on life.

Cullen's breath hitched as he contemplated a different scenario, where he was alone and in mourning. Even the mere thought caused the pit of his stomach to open into a chasm and his eyes to well up.

Cullen and Josephine had been arguing. Emotions running high after discovering the Qunari spy had been one of the Inquisition's own. They may have continued, or perhaps the Inquisitor would have halted their words, bringing them back to focus on the important matter at hand. That is, if she hadn't cried out in pain. Her mark glowed bright and fierce, crackling with its strange magic.

Even as the light seemed to subside, Cullen could see the hard set of her jaw as she gritted her teeth, wincing as she straightened up. Did the mark look larger now? He had kissed the deep gash in Nherrin's palm so often, felt its roughness as she moved her hands across his bare skin, but he never remembered it reaching as far as her wrist before now.

"So," She sighed, having to steel herself in order to keep speaking. "It's been getting worse. I don't know why. I don't know how to stop it." She'd avoided meeting his eyes, focusing on Josephine and the Divine instead, and Cullen felt like the bottom was slowly falling out of his world. "I don't know how much time I've got left. What I do know is that the Qunari need to be stopped, so I need to get to the Davaarad," Nherrin briefly paused, her green eyes finally looking at him, "while I can still fight."

His chest felt tight, a lump beginning to form in his throat as he stepped forward and drew his love into his arms. He could feel her arms wrap around him, hands gripping the fabric of his dress uniform and her cheek press against his chest. Without his armour, he could feel the warmth of her body radiating against him.

"Thank you, Inquisitor." The Divine dipped her head as Cullen reluctantly pulled away, but not before placing a brief kiss to the top of her head.

"Would you…would you like us to inform the Exalted Council of the danger?" Josephine said hesitantly.

"Yes. If we fail, the Exalted Council needs to know what happened."

Other words were spoken but Cullen did not heed them. They had spoken about a possibility such as this many times, especially before Corypheus had been defeated. Every time Nherrin had left Skyhold for some far-off corner of Orlais or Fereldan, they had known that this could be the time when she didn't return. The worry of her absence combined with the sometimes nearly crippling lyrium withdrawal often took him to Skyhold's tiny Chantry late at night. He always prayed for her safety, for Andraste and the Maker to guide her home to him. Often he prayed for the strength to endure, to not succumb to temptation, to give his all to the Inquisition and his Inquisitor.

The times they had been into battle together he had marvelled at her skill. Spinning her staff about herself as she bent the very fabric of reality to her will and moving with a fluid grace that could not simply be the result of her Ehlven heritage. Her companions fought alongside her, working together in a beautiful harmony of death whilst he led his soldiers from the front. He ensured the enemy focused their attention on the Inquisition's forces so the Inquisitor could strike where she was needed. It had earned him more scars but more importantly they had achieved victory.

Composing himself, Cullen barely managed to keep the hitch out of his voice. "I'll have guards ready at the Eluvian in case the Qunari attack the palace." The look she gave him then, full of love and sadness made his heart ache. He yearned to go with her and fight by her side, to bring her home if the worst happened, but duty kept him here to defend the Winter Palace in case she did not succeed.

"Maker watch over you."

Note: I hope you've enjoyed Chapter 1. It has been a long time since I wrote a fanfic, so please consider reviewing as constructive comments are much appreciated.