Cullen was walking into the grand hall after working in the war room for what seemed like ages. He had a headache as well as a stack of reports given to him as a sort of parting gift from the meeting and was thankful Gwyn had not been forced to be a part of it. He wiped his brow and flipped through the papers briefly when a blood-curdling scream ripped through the hall. His amber eyes darted around frantically when Varric glanced his way.
"Who was that?" Before Cullen could answer him, another scream ripped through the hall. It was clearly coming from upstairs.
"It's the Inquisitor!" He dropped the stack of papers and hurried to the door. He took multiple steps at a time when he finally reached her door. Silence was on the other end. The latch was in place; he couldn't get through. "Gwyn! Are you in there? Gwyn, if you're alright, answer me!" He was met with more silence. Varric finally came up behind him. "We're going to have to break down the door." Quickly, with as much force as possible, the two men thrust their weight onto the door and broke it open.
Inside lay Gwyn on her bed, her body forming a sort of cocoon as she shivered in her sleep. She whimpered softly and turned from side to side.
"It's not real. It's not real," The words left her lips as she thrashed about. Cullen immediately rushed to her side and brushed the bangs from her forehead. He nodded in Varric's direction, giving him permission to leave them.
"Shhhhh, darling. It's only a dream." His voice was no more than a whisper. He hummed softly and pulled her hair away from her face. He felt slightly hopeless—he wasn't even sure if he was helping. He watched helplessly as she shook violently and eventually woke up, sobbing. She pulled her knees to her face, hugging them tightly.
"It wasn't real, it wasn't real," she repeated, tears streaming as she rocked slightly.
"No, no it wasn't." He sat in her bed, pulling her towards him. She laid her head in his chest, his armor cold to the touch.
"You…you were gone. Just gone," She sobbed. Cullen's fingertips traced her back lightly while the other hand carefully cradled her head. "I watched you die. I couldn't say or do anything, I just watched her slit your throat. I could only watch!" The words tasted like ash in her mouth as she cried. He'd read the reports from Therinfal-redoubt multiple times; he knew what she was describing. He had wondered when she'd talk about what she'd experienced there with him.
"I'm right here, love. It wasn't real—none of it was." He kissed her forehead lightly. She looked up at him.
"I knew it wasn't real then, and I know it's not real now. But I just- I keep seeing it over and over. I just stand there and I can't do anything about it. Then afterwards, when you were shouting a-and you just stabbed me. I know it's crazy, but I just keep having nightmares over and over." Cullen wrapped his arms around her.
"I know, Gwyn. I know." He held her close and took a free hand to wipe her tears away.
"I'm sorry if I worried you," She bit her lip as he took her face in his hands. His thumb gently traced a scar on her right cheek, just below her eye, and kissed her lips gently.
"I'm just glad you're alright," His fingers tugged gently on the hair he had tucked behind her ears earlier. "With the way you were screaming, I thought you were being attacked by a dragon." He forced a laugh, hoping to soften the mood before she sighed.
"A dragon, I can handle. Nightmares are something else entirely." He laughed with her before giving her another brief kiss on the cheek and standing up to retreat to his own quarters.
"Can you stay with me?" Gwyn's voice was small as she asked. He smiled as he approached the bed once more. Carefully he removed some of his armor and settled on the bed with her, where she carefully laid in the crook of his arm. She looked up at him to plant a kiss on his jawline before resting her head on his chest. "I like hearing your heart beat," she murmured, her eyelids fluttering. Cullen held her close and thought about telling her how much he depended on her now. How sometimes he struggled with nightmares of his own he couldn't possibly begin to explain, how on the worst days of his withdrawal just seeing her face made him feel better. Or even how the slightest touch from her soothed him more than she could ever know.
"Everything's alright now," His voice was quiet as he spoke against the wisps of her long, brown hair. Usually she wore her hair up, mostly in an attempt to get it out of her face. Halfway through the day, her hair was usually coming out of its hold and it was always a rare time when she wore it down. Despite the circumstance, she looked breathtakingly beautiful. "I'm right here." He murmured softly, planting a kiss on the crown of her head.
"Thank you, I…I'm just glad you're here, especially now. Sometimes the nightmares can be…difficult." Her voice was low and he could tell she was already beginning to drift off. He stroked her head as she breathed and wrapped her arms around him. Moments passed as he felt her inhale and exhale on his chest, fast asleep.
"I get them too," he whispered, filling the silence between them.