Chapter Text
Time can't flow back, nor is he clever enough to found ways around. But he's good with a sword and stubborn from birth, so even with trembling hands and burning nerves he'll try. There's little choice for anything else at this point, no other option but to succeed.
(But you can't, says a voice that claws at the remaining pieces of his mind. You'll fail because that's the only thing you've ever managed to do, and you'll drag down everyone else when that happens. And he leans forward from where he sits on his bed, elbows on his knees and the palms of his hands pressed hard to his eyes, and just tries to gather enough of himself to put on his boots.)
The first time Cullen meets him demons are pouring from the sky, people are dying, and the world is possibly ending. The Breach grows larger, its otherworldly glow engulfing the sky. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and a sense of panic that is forced into action with a need to do whatever must be done to ensure safety and to salvage whatever remained.
He sees the rift closest to him is closed and a small bit of relief unclenches his jaw as he makes his way to Cassandra and gives his thanks.
But she sighs. "Do not congratulate me, Commander," she says reluctantly as she turns around.
Cullen looks past her to see a man. The man, he realizes, who could be responsible for this whole mess to begin with. He eyes the staff. Not just a man. A mage, just as he has heard. His entire body tenses. His expression hardens.
"This is the prisoner's doing."
The prisoner's face is faintly creased in a look that Cullen recognizes as being in physical pain, and his body language speaks of a wariness that Cullen has come to associate with apostates. His eyes are a bright green, sharp and focused and just a bit feral. But while there's beads of sweat at his temples and he's out of breath, Cullen can see no fear. The man is a mystery, and combined with that strange power and the tear in the sky, very dangerous. An old instinct shifts beneath his skin. His training would see no fault in drawing his blade and running it through the stranger's chest, and his fingers flex for the urge to do so.
The man's gaze is steady, and Cullen has the unnerving feeling that the he isn't simply looking at him but trying to see in him. He steps forward, and Cullen is distracted enough to shake off ingrained instinct - he's no longer that man - and come to his senses. Dangerous or not, this man could be the only way to close the Breach.
"Is it?" Cullen says tersely. "I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people getting you here."
"You're not the only one hoping that," he answers with a vaguely wry twist to his words.
Cullen's eyes narrow ever so slightly. "We'll see soon enough, won't we?" He tears his eyes away from the man to address Cassandra and tried to ignore the feeling of being intently stared at. "The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there."
"Then we'd best move quickly. Give us time, Commander," Cassandra says.
Cullen locks gazes with the man again even as he steps back to rejoin the rest of the soldiers. "Maker watch over you - for all our sakes."
He turns and hurries forward to help a wounded soldier struggling to keep up. He slings the soldier's arm across his shoulders and resolutely keeps moving forward, resisting the strange impulse to glance back and readily blaming the quick beating of his heart on adrenaline.