Cullen was a patient man.

He had the patience to hold his breath and slowly count backwards from one hundred as his headache burned through his temples, racing painfully from one side of his head and bouncing back. He had the patience to sit through Josephine rattle off a dozen different solutions to a problem he knew he could fix with two men and an axe, albeit messily.

But he was running out of patience in this matter.

He'd suffered the red eyed, hungover suggestions of Evelyn's for pushing on a week and a half now. Ever since that Judgement she'd been like this. Drinking. Crying. Sniffling. Tight lipped and terse, throwing out the occasional suggestion or leaving decisions entirely up to them, which might have sparked an argument or two between him and Josephine. And kept him watching his back for repercussions for something else Leiliana disagreed with.

Enough was enough. He could only tolerate so much. Regardless of the pain. She was the leader of the Inquisition. Her people had to come before her relationships.

Cullen gathered himself, smoothing out his lapels and straightening his mantle as he eased out of his chair. A dull headache throbbed behind his eyes, a reminder of his commitment. One that he questioned every day.

He pursed his lips, reminding himself that the only reason he continued that decision was because of her. She had insisted that he do what he wanted. Not what might make the Inquisition better.

He swept out of his office, leaving a startled messenger at the door, looking confused.

"Commander Cullen!" The boy chirped, rushing after him, steps noisier than a drunk Druffalo.

"Put it on my desk. I'll be out for a time." Cullen retorted, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

"Ye-Yes sir!" The steps retreated, just as loud as before, drumming the stonework like a gong.

Cullen groaned, pressing a hand to his head as he followed the battlement's railing down the stairs to the gate. From there he took the steps back up to the tavern, where he'd no doubt find her.

He pushed open the door, the tavern's ruckus subdued. If he had to guess, it had been subdued for the past week, do doubt sensing the emotional pain the Inquisitor held and buried in drink.

Cullen found her at the bar, Iron Bull by her side, nursing a drink of his own. Varric sat at a nearby table, a mournful look on his face as he watched Evelyn. Sera balanced on the railing above, hanging upside down and watching, though she wore a smile Cullen could see it was actually strained, or perhaps more of a sneer instead of a smile.

"Like a ripped wound. Pulsing. Bleeding. Pouring. Trampled and put back in. Beating but broken." Cullen jerked away, Cole appearing beside him.

The demon-spirit stopped by his side, looking to Evelyn then Cullen.

"I can't heal this hurt." Cole muttered.

Cullen swallowed, chewing on his lip. His hand found his neck, rubbing the soft curls that were starting to grow there and extend to the base of his neck. "Some pain doesn't heal with words or a bandage Cole." He tried.

Cole nodded, then looked over at him.

"Don't." Cullen said quickly.

"Sunshine in the windows. Light across the page, fire in my veins but water cools it when she laughs. The best days she stays." Cullen nudged the creature away, but he couldn't ignore the last sentence. He'd been talking about him and Evelyn. His thoughts on Evelyn. The ones he tucked to the furthest corner of his mind and tried his best to seal away.

"That's not your concern." He told Cole.

"But it would heal your hurt." Cole muttered, but he didn't seem to press the issue, instead he just walked away, and after a moment Cullen couldn't quite tell where he went.

Cullen growled, shaking his head and shoving the headache that was starting to mount to the back of his mind. Evelyn. Then Cole. No. Actually, Cole could just… never be addressed. Better to let that matter just lie.

He headed to the bar, but this time Varric stopped him, a firm hand on Cullen's wrist, holding him back. "I'd warn you Curly." Varric said softly. "It might have been a week but she's ruminating on it like it was yesterday." Then he looked down at his toes. "And she's been quite forth coming on the intimacy that was exchanged."

A blush crept up Cullen's cheeks, but he shook his head. "I suspected so. But still. We need the Inquisitor. Not a…" he pursed his lips. "Not a heart broken alcoholic."

Varric nodded, then a heavy sigh left the dwarf. "Give it a go then. Maybe you'll be more successful than us. Bull will carry her back if you aren't. We can at least get her back to her room when she passes out at the bar."

"Every night?" Cullen cocked an eyebrow. He missed so many little details living in that tower.

"The third night it was closer to dragging. She was still conscious." Varric replied. "Also holding a bottle, but" he shrugged. "She gave everything to the man. I… I can't truly blame her. I just want her to feel better."

"This isn't helping." Cullen muttered flexing his hand tentatively.

Varric released him readily, going back to his table where it looked like he was playing Wicked Grace by himself. No. Wait. Cole. Cullen's lip quirked at the thought of playing it with Cole.

"Inquisitor." Cullen said, addressing the main issue he came down.

She turned, her violet eyes reddened from crying, the bottle in her hand half empty and almost off the table and on the floor.

"Hmm?" She blinked at him. "Oh." She turned back to the bar. Iron Bull grimaced, reaching over and placing a single finger on the bottle, easing it and her attached arm further onto the table. A subtle tug as he tried to loosen the bottle as well, but Evelyn's grip somehow remained tight around it.

"Evelyn." Cullen tried, moving up behind her, leaning over her left shoulder.

"No." She muttered softly, refusing to meet his gaze as she turned her gaze to her boots.

"Look at me." Cullen muttered. "Please. Evelyn you've been here every night for a week."

"Doesn't matter." Evelyn jerked the bottle out from Iron Bull's hand, nearly slipping it as she took another drink.

"She's had four of those if you're wondering." Bull put in, pursing his lips.

"How many does it take to lose her." Cullen cocked an eyebrow as she set the bottle back on the table. It tilted, clattering to the bartop empty.

Iron Bull hummed. "If she's getting better at drinking, then maybe six. But if she has another…" He shook his head and sighed, leaning over the bartop. "Boss. Come on." He ushered. "You've had enough for tonight."

"If I can still remember him then I haven't had enough." She retorted.

Cullen gritted his teeth. "Bull, get her right. I'll get her left."

In a rush Cullen bent down, scooping Evelyn's left leg up as his arm hooked behind her back. Bull's arm hooked behind his, less ready for the maneuver, but catching on quickly enough. Together they hauled her away from the bar, managing to get halfway to the door when Cullen felt the crackle in the air.

"Evelyn." He warned.

"Put me down." She whined, thrashing in his grip, her magic coiling around her, lacing her fingers with strength. Her skin turned cold, frost on her fingertips as she squeezed Cullen.

Cullen ignored it. Drunken magic use was a terrible thing to punish. Further, she was reacting as she should in a situation like this. Well. If it wasn't Bull and him then she was. And it wasn't like she was particularly focused or powerful with it either.

A dull spark crackled off her hip, catching on his belt buckle and sending a jolt down his leg. Cullen winched.

"Evelyn stop." Cullen said and together he and Iron Bull dumped her on the doorstep.

"Tongue feels tingly now." Iron Bull muttered, shaking his head, his horns nearly cracking against the door as he retreated back to the bar. "If she shocks you, I'm not taking the blame."

Cullen huffed, setting his hands on his hips as he peered down at Evelyn.

She laid on her back, staring up at the stars, looking a mixture of red from thrashing as well as green. It reminded him of raw recruits after their first hard run.

"Get up." Cullen said, nudging her with his boot.

"Stomach flopping. Stars should stop moving. Anyone else would be better. Why is it him? Anyone but him." Cole murmured, sliding around Cullen and squatting in front of her.

A sour feeling struck Cullen's stomach. Anyone but him? He swallowed but held his ground as he hooked his thumbs in his belt. He didn't have his sword on him, but the tough leather helped a little anyways. Was she so unwilling to be around him?

Evelyn swatted at him, but her reaction was weak and the strength lacking even more so. "Cole." She moaned, giving him an annoyed look. "Noo."

Cole nodded, backing away, leaving Cullen towering over her.

Evelyn rolled over onto her stomach, shoving her arms under herself. She found the action useless though and unneeded. Her arms wouldn't steady enough to get her back on her feet, and Cullen had already pulled her to her feet, one firm hand on her back.

"I'm sorry." She whispered once they'd made it some distance from the bar, nearly to the front steps of the keep.

"I'm not mad at you." Cullen replied gently. He was furious at Blackwall. But that wasn't any reason to be mad at her.

"Yes you are. I made the wrong decision. I made all the wrong decisions." She choked out the words, sobbing them more than speaking them.

Cullen huffed, looking around. A bucket by the practice ring caught his eye. He left Evelyn momentarily, flipping the bucket over and guiding her to it. He sat her down, kneeling in front of her.

"Evelyn. I'm not mad at you." He assured her, setting his hands firmly on his own knees.

She shook her head, tears bursting anew from her vibrant purple eyes. "But I did this! I can't even pull myself together for the council meetings!"

Cullen huffed. "I didn't…" He shook his head, taking one hand off his knee to rub the back of his neck. "I'm not telling you what you're doing is wrong. It's perfectly reasonable."

"To cry for a week and a half and drink myself unconscious every night since I told that man he could live?" Evelyn laughed, but it wasn't the laugh that pulled him from his nightmares or lit up his office like rays of sunshine.

Cullen pursed his lips. "You have every right to be upset and mad and afraid and in pain and hurting. It's your heart. And you trusted it to that man and he lied. And that's something I can't forgive."
"Why?" Evelyn whispered. "I'm the one hurting. He didn't hurt you." Cullen's lips twisted slightly, his chest constricting as she caught that slip. Of course she caught that slip.

"He hurt you though." His words came out as a soft whisper.

She paused, looking surprised. "He… what?"

"He hurt you." Cullen repeated. "And that's something far worse than hurting me. He might have lied to us. Might have told us all false things. But he lied to you. And you gave him everything you had." He realizing his hands were shaking. He gritted his teeth, clenching his fingers around his neck and knee.

"I…" Evelyn shook her head. "But why? I am nothing!"

"You're the woman that took charge of an organization started from scratch. You're the mage that confronted the Templars and decided to rebuild them from the ground up instead of tearing them apart and leaving them in cinders. You dropped a mountain on yourself just to give men and women you barely knew a chance to get away. Evelyn. You are everything."

She sucked in a breath that sounded more like it was snot than air but bobbed her head. "I was just there."

"I was just in Kirkwall." Cullen replied, opening that door to his dark past. But she needed this. Even if it hurt him. "I could have stopped Meredith and I didn't. I wielded the brand, the sword, the orders. You might have been there. But we are here because you were."

She leaned her head back, against the fencing, staring up at the stars. "Cullen," She muttered. "This is all too much for me. I'm just a hunter. I don't lead armies. I don't change worlds and cultures. I hunt wolves and I watch halla! I might not have even been made first Seeker when I came back! This isn't me!"

Cullen pursed his lips, the hand on his neck tightening as his headache worsened. This wasn't as easy as he had hoped it would be.

And none of it made the burning heat in his chest any better. Not the moonlight reflecting off her purple eyes. Not her lips, slightly parted and letting out soft ghosts of white in the cool mountain air. Not the way she opened up to him, revealing something he only suspected but never knew.

She eased into a standing position, leaning back and grasping the fence for support. "This…" She shook her head. "I should go."

She took a step away to the keep. Cullen rose uncertain. That uncertainty grew as she staggered, straightening up. She tilted, twisting back to look at him with a confused expression.

"Cullen." She muttered, her eyes fluttering. Then she doubled over, whatever was in her stomach spewing out in a moment. She stumbled back, groaning.

Then she was falling, knees collapsing as her eyes rolled back.

Cullen dove with a speed he wasn't aware he still possessed. Elbows scraped dirt, his knees hit next, pain lancing up his leg from a sprain he thought he'd healed from. Then a whoosh of air as Evelyn fell into his arms. His hand snapped back, catching her head before it hit the hardpacked dirt.

Cullen groaned, letting out a soft sigh of relief as he put his head down. Almost missed. Almost dropped her. Almost wasn't good enough.

"Maker, you scare the daylights out of me." Cullen whispered. He gathered her in his arms, pulling her to his chest.

She was deadweight in his arms, but that was preferable to a thrashing volatile mage. He had never known her to thrash or even crackle with magic like that.

He shook his head. Grief changed a person. He knew that all too well.

He carried her through the keep and up the steps to her bedroom, taking them nice and slow as not to rock or jar her. She seemed not to notice as he laid her down on the bed, her head hanging off the edge in case she threw up again.

"What am I going to do with you?" Cullen muttered, more to himself than for her. She was already past the realm of consciousness, perhaps exploring another part of the Fade in her mind.

"Hands like iron, eyes like gold. Hold me strong and steadfast. Never faulting. Statue. Cracked but whole. Shattered but not broken."

Cullen jerked, whirling around and finding the spirit on Evelyn's desk, perched on top and casually sorting papers.

Cullen scowled. "Cole."
The boy looked up, his floppy hat nearly hiding his eyes. "It's how she thinks of you." He turned back to sorting papers, leaving Cullen stunned.

A statue? Steadfast?

"Did I settle? He could have been more but he wasn't. Took it and left without anything back. Promised me pain and I didn't believe him." Cole muttered softly.

Now he was speaking of Blackwall. But that first line caught him.

Did she settle? Settle for who? On what? Why?

"Cole could you please sto-"

"His hands are gentle with the pieces when he plays. Softer than lace, more delicate than glass when he checks. But his hands were rough, tantalizing and exhilarating, but not the same. More touches, but not quite tender. Rash and uncontrolled. Like the wood… But he always looked like the light.

The he's were confusing, too many pronouns, but Cole was deep in thought at this point, muttering more and more to himself.

Cullen started towards him when he heard Evelyn shift, a gagging noise.

He whirled, one hand scooping up her long locks of soft brown hair, the other sliding the bucket into position as her meager dinner and everything else in her stomach made a reappearance.

"She wants to be held reverently. Sacred but not untouchable. Above, but also beside. Nothing hidden, nothing veiled. Trusted and trusting. Loved wholly and loving completely."

"Cole enough." Cullen snarled. "Not one more word!"

The spirit startled, shocked as Cullen glared at him. "But I thought you wanted to-"

"It doesn't matter what I want!" Cullen's heart crept up his throat, tightening making it hard to get the words out. "I can't, won't and will not let my feeling affect her, nor the Inquisition!" He swallowed then, taking a deep breath as Evelyn seemed to settle again.

He reached into his pocket, producing a handkerchief and wiping her mouth. He folded it, then set it on her nightstand. With a deft hand he tied her hair back in a ponytail, draping it down her back in hopes that it would help should she shift and retch again.

"You can't heal my pain either Cole." Cullen whispered. "I have caused more than my share, and as such I deserve it all in return. Thank you. But no." He gathered himself up, casting another look down at Evelyn's small frame, hanging off the bed and looking terrible.

"You long to comfort her."

Cullen let out a long sigh. "She's already chosen a man. And I don't want to cloud her judgement, or risk hurting her again just because of something I feel. I don't matter enough for that kind of thing. If I can be of use to her. That's enough."

Cullen walked away, taking the steps nice and slow. His headache had returned, a terrible one this time that throbbed in new places. But that didn't quite match the pain, hot and heavy, in his chest as he made his way down the stairs. He was so focused on it he nearly missed Cole's comment as the boy ran by.

"Lies only make the hurt worse."