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Day 9 – “You Shouldn’t Have Come Here” (Sidni)

She stares at the small fire as the others sleep uneasily around her. Once, she’d found Orzammar beautiful and fascinating. Alive. This … this is too much. It’s as if the Stone watches them. She can’t sleep for the humming in her body and the images it produces.

There’s something down here they don’t understand. She feels it in her bones. It sets her on edge.

She misses the sky. The sun. The taste of the air on her tongue. And while she’s usually drawn to rocky places, this is not one she wants anymore. The tunnels close in, the lyrium veins singing an almost-familiar song.

What her father would have given to gain even a glimpse of this. If he could see her now. Actually, she hopes he’s seeing her. And burning in agony and jealousy.

“Cadash,” Dorian grumbles half asleep from the bedroll next to hers, “get some sleep. Andraste’s ass, you’re starting to look like Cole.”

She curls up against him, prompting more grumbling.

The others talk of feeling trapped and the strange vibrations they can hear from the lyrium. Only Varric seems to sense something similar to what she does. She briefly wishes Cullen was here, but it’s selfish. This would be akin to putting him back in that Circle.

She pulls the blanket over herself. There’s no way to tell how late or early it is. It’s just constantly dark. She hates it. The familiar spicy scent coming from Dorian’s skin is the only comfort she can find at the moment. And it’s a small one at that.

As she lets her eyes shut, trying to find her elusive sleep, that humming intensifies. Her teeth rattle, a chill running down her spine. She’d almost say it’s calling out to her, beckoning her closer, but that can’t be true.

Her denial seems to add fuel to its intensity. You shouldn’t have come here if you didn’t want this, it seems to say.

The gasp that escapes her explodes through the otherwise silent camp as she sits straight up. She’s losing her mind. It’s finally breaking.

When her eyes meet Valta’s across the fire, she’s somehow assured she’s not the only one. It does nothing but unsettle her further.

Day 8 – “I Know You Do” (Sidni x Cullen)

Everything is happening too fast, bathed in the green of the reopened breach. Sidni glances around at all of her companions gathering weapons and supplies for the frantic ride to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. A troop of scouts has already set out to ready the soldiers and clear the way for them to follow. They’re almost ready to depart.

She can’t leave yet. She can’t. Her heart pounds as she spins on her heel, eyes looking for any sign of Cullen. She can’t leave without seeing him.

Someone yells after her as she takes off to search the spots he’s most likely to be in. There’s no sight of him in the chaos and her breath starts to stick in her chest. She can’t leave without speaking to him.

Calls of “Inquisitor” and startled exclamations follow her frantic dash through the various courtyards. She nearly tumbles down the stairs, her usually sure feet failing her as she catches a glimpse of red and black fur amongst the soldiers scattering to protect Skyhold.

“Cullen!”

He turns just as she crashes into his legs. His arms are already encircling her as she clings to his waist, face buried in his stomach. She’s a stranger to herself, and yet not, as she gives in to the need burning through her veins.

“Sidni?”

Whatever happens, you will come back, he had said. What if she doesn’t? She won’t come back and he won’t know. Because she doesn’t say it enough. He doesn’t know. She doesn’t tell him. Not enough.

She hooks her fingers in his chest plate and hauls him down toward her, her eyes locked on his as she nearly shouts, “I love you! No matter what, Cullen, I love you! I love you!”

His brow furrows, that angry look that precedes a reprimand crossing his face before it softens and he cups her cheek.

“I know you do, a thasgaidh.”

A smile lifts her lips at the – better – pronunciation. He kisses her softly, tucking a curl behind her ear.

“You will defeat him. And I will see you after. Victorious.”

She wants to cry. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Day 7 – “No Worries, We Still Have Time” (Flynn x Dorian)

“I’m going back to Tevinter.”

Of all the heartache and physical wounds Flynn has had in his life, this is the worst. He’d thought it had been bad when Dorian had first left, but to find out he’s returning for good when all of this is over?

He’s angrier than a rage demon.

While Dorian lies sleeping next to him, he runs through the conversation in his mind. No, he can’t go with him. Yes, he must do it. It’s because Flynn has inspired him, really.

Selfishly, Flynn wants to yell and discourage him from his course. It’s a fleeting notion, but he’s never been able to trust his heart when it’s hurt. Decisions made in this state of being usually leave a path of destruction behind him.

The idea of having found Dorian and losing him … not even his gifted amulet can soothe that pain. Deep in his gut, he feels the Inquisition is in danger. In a matter of days, will he have lost everything he’s found for himself?

“Amatus?”

He glances down to find slitted eyes showing a glint of grey. Taking Dorian’s hand and shifting to lay down beside him, he kisses the tip of his nose. He soaks in the way Dorian’s eyes close and his mustache twitches with his sleepy smile.

“Is everything alright?”

Flynn hesitates. The answer is no, but he can’t tell him that. But his pause draws Dorian closer to waking, his eyes opening fully and his brow furrowing.

“As well as they ever go,” Flynn whispers, giving him a proper kiss. “We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

Dorian curls into him as Flynn promises himself that he’ll find a solution. There’s still time. He’s not letting go that easily.

Day 6 – “I’ve Heard Enough, This Ends Now” (Flynn x Dorian)

If blood could boil, Flynn thinks his would be close to an explosive heat right now. Not only did the illustrious Magister Pavus trick poor Dorian into showing up here, they’ve had to sit here and listen to his patronizing false pleas. On top of Flynn learning the rift between them is because of Dorian’s romantic preferences with a dose of societal complications mixed in.

In short, the bastard standing before him is a terrible parent.

Flynn’s mother and father aren’t perfect, by any means, but at least they accept him as he is. Watching Dorian rage at his father to cover his heartbreak is painful. The familiar urge to pull the other man into his arms is nearly irresistible, but he doesn’t want to add more fuel to the fire. Especially if he’s wrong and his feelings aren’t returned.

He approaches Dorian, keeping a careful distance between them.

“I think it’s time we left.”

Dorian’s face is downcast when he turns to Flynn and says, “I agree.”

Just as he’s about to cross the threshold, the magister speaks.

“Inquisitor, you must–”

Flynn’s hold on the door tightens. He glances outside to see Dorian nearly at Varric’s side. He meets the dwarf’s eyes and tilts his head, receiving a nod in return before he slams the door and turns back.

“No,” he says, summoning every bit of anger into his voice that he can. “No, I must not anything! Not only have you lied – more than just today I’m sure – but you’ve treated that man – who has done more to help fight this threat than most – appallingly! And he’s your son! Did you forget that? Or was your own ego more important than being a parent?”

He’s moments away from launching himself at the man, the echoes of pain in Dorian’s voice ringing in his mind.

“I know there has to be more here than either of you have said.” He holds up his hand, forcing Halward to shut his mouth before he can say a thing. “If I find you’ve appealed to Mother Giselle again … my ambassador would be disappointed if I caused an incident. And I’m sure Dorian wouldn’t appreciate it either, though Maker knows you wouldn’t feel the same if the roles were reversed. You’ve done enough. No more. I’d suggest taking your leave of Redcliffe, Magister Pavus.”

The slamming of the door behind himself isn’t satisfying enough, even though it shakes the frame around it.

Day 5 – “Take What You Need” (Sidni)

This is sort of a companion piece to this. If you want to have some more info on what’s going on with Sidni.

Bull knows something’s wrong.

In the fuss after bringing Cullen back, she’d slipped away. Everyone focused on Cullen’s wounds and seeing him back on his feet. And when Bull commented on Sidni’s absence at Cullen’s side, everyone assured him she must be focusing on the fight ahead.

He knows that can’t be the reason.

Their Inquisitor has made herself scarce. And if Cullen’s kicked mabari pup expression is anything to go by, she’s cut herself off from him too. Something happened, something beyond a simple run-in with Carta thugs she’d rescued her love from.

He gives her some time, hoping it will all resolve itself. It doesn’t. She’s a shadow amongst Skyhold, fulfilling her duties, but otherwise hiding away. When he does manage to spot her, she’s brittle. She’s barely holding it together. And regressing into the pained and caged creature she’d once been. It makes Bull’s gut churn to see it.

When he crosses paths with a defeated-looking Cullen leaving her quarters, he decides he won’t sit idle any longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Put me down! Now!”

It takes everything he has to keep the squirming dwarf slung over his shoulder. She manages some truly impressive twists and narrow escapes, but he holds firm. At least until he reaches the abandoned sparring ring. It’s the dinner hour, so no one is around to see him dump her on her ass in the dirt.

“You needed to get out of your room,” he says by way of explanation, tossing a blunt knife at her feet.

She has nothing to say to that, but her eyes burn like fire at him. He takes up his own practice weapon, settling into position.

“What happened when you went to get Cullen?”

“I rescued him from the Carta.”

Her voice is flat, the blade still on the ground in front of her.

“Well, something else happened. You wouldn’t have lost us if you hadn’t expected something else.”

“It was some dangerous members.”

“I think we can all handle dangerous.”

Finally, her face contorts into something other than the blank mask. “Leave it alone, Bull.”

“Something happened. You two are no longer speaking. And you’re hiding from something. What is it?”

“Leave it alone.”

He won’t. She’s boiling, near to exploding. All he needs is to poke a hole and release some of the pressure before she destroys herself.

“Must’ve been personal. Someone targeted you specifically. Was that it? Being near you put Cullen in danger?”

He hits the sore spot he’s aiming for. She charges him, none of her usual discipline or lethality anywhere to be seen. It’s a frenzy. Anything she can take a swing at, she does, fury overflowing in her pained yells. Her blows land without any of her real power. It’s messy and out of control. That scares him more than anything else.

“Take what you need, boss. Let it out.”

She strikes at him until she’s exhausted – which, he has to admit, takes an impressively long time – and collapses. He’ll be sore in the morning, but it’s nothing like she could have done.

He grunts, his knee complaining as he joins her on the ground. Sobs shake her frame, but they’re silent. His hand settles on her shoulder.

“Alright. Now, let’s go get ourselves a drink and you can tell me what’s messed you up so good.”

The pain hiding behind the tears in her eyes when she lifts her gaze cuts him. It’s going to be a long night with a lot of alcohol. But hopefully he can help her back to her feet.