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It had been several hours since Rima had interrupted Cullen’s conversation with Cassandra. Though she had only caught the tail end of the exchange, she had seen the hurt in Cullen’s eyes, the desperation in his voice as he whispered a plea of forgiveness.
She’d only grown more concerned after hearing Cassandra detail Cullen’s request for a replacement. He’d been doing so well…did he truly not think himself capable of overcoming this? While she had yet to see the worst his addiction had to offer, she could easily tell just how far he’d come during the time they’d been together.
Cassandra had recommended that she approach Cullen and make a formal assessment herself, but Rima remained hesitant. Despite her growing concerns, she wanted to give him his space, and while she knew she held a responsibility as the Inquisitor to discuss this with him, she couldn’t help but find herself dreading the impending conversation.
Eventually, she managed to work up the courage to head to his office. A decent amount of time had passed; enough that he might be more in his right mind now. Her hopes lifted slightly at the thought and she perked up a bit upon noticing his open door. She picked up her pace a bit as she regained her confidence, entering through the doorway with an optimistic smile.
All her previous trains of thought were cut off, however, when a hard, wooden object collided with her head. The force of the blow sent her to the floor, and she found herself utterly befuddled, attempting to process what just happened.
She thought she heard an exasperated “Maker’s breath” from across the room, but her hearing was ringing slightly, so it was hard to tell. Slowly, she sat up, bringing a hand to her pounding forehead, which felt oddly sticky. Upon withdrawing it, she found her palm coated in blood. Gradually, her gaze panned upward, and she took notice of Cullen’s horrified face, who stood on the opposite end of his desk. He remained frozen in place, his wide eyes filled with fear as he stammered out broken apologies.
Shifting slightly on the floor, her other hand brushed up against a piece of broken glass, which drew her attention downward. The contents of his lyrium tool kit, as well as the box that contained them, were scattered about beside her and she quickly pieced together what must have occurred.
There was a sharp intake of breath from the opposite end of the room before Cullen began to speak more coherently. “I will notify Cassandra to send for a replacement at once.” His tone was low and grave, filled with utter guilt and self-loathing.
That got Rima’s attention. Her neck snapped up and she looked at him with worried bewilderment. “No! Cullen – It’s okay. I’m okay, see?” She quickly got to her feet, extending her arms to show that the rest of her remained in once piece.
“It’s not all right,” he bit out, turning his bitter gaze downward. “I’ve…I’ve hurt you…Andraste preserve me, I never meant for this to interfere…” He let out a shaky breath, gritting down on his teeth as he trembled against his desk. “I would beg for forgiveness, but I know that I’m not worthy of it. There is no way I can live with myself knowing what I’ve done to you.”
“It’s just a cut, honest! I’ve gotten worse than this in the field…Cullen, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know I was there-”
“Would it have made a difference if I had?!” he snapped at her, his eyes wild and agonized. “I-I lost control of myself…How can you be certain that I would have been in my right mind? What if I’d taken my anger out on you instead?”
She was at his side in an instant, trying to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he instantly recoiled, hastily backing up as though he couldn’t allow himself to be near her.
She tried not to let his actions bother her too much, instead opting to speak in a gentle tone. “Because I trust you.”
He shot her another pained look before turning his gaze to the window. “Your faith in me is misplaced. Had you known the things I’ve done…You would not turn such kind eyes onto me.”
“Cullen, please…” she tried again, reaching out to him, but he cut her off with a fierce “No!”
Gritting his teeth, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, the knuckles turning white. “I am not fit to command the Inquisition’s armies, nor is it safe for you to be in my presence. I implore you, Inquisitor – relieve me of duty.”
Rima’s breath caught in her throat and she attempted to suppress the emotion welling there. His formal use of her title stung, his stiff words a wall of separation. He was trying to push her away, and for what reason? Because he was trying to protect her? She shook her head in indignation, trying to make sense of it all.
“You know I can’t do that,” she uttered softly.
“You have every reason to.” His tone was distant, which left her feeling cold and empty inside.
“Cullen… ” Her voice cracked slightly despite her efforts to remain calm. She tried to get him to meet her gaze, but he abruptly turned away with an air of indifference.
“If you will not see reason, then please, leave me to my work. There is much to be done.”
The detachment in his voice was like a knife to her heart, cutting deeper and deeper the further he moved away. She could feel the beginning sting of tears, but furiously blinked them away and let out a shaky breath in an attempt to mask her pain.
Without another word, she left his office, making her way to the healer’s tent so someone could look at her injury.
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The cut on her head healed in no time and were it not for the misery written upon her face, there wouldn’t be any evidence that she’d been injured at all. The pain had long since vanished, and in its stead, the ache of loneliness was creeping into Rima’s chest. As soon as the healer had finished with her, she’d made an effort to return to Cullen’s office, but found his doors locked. When she tried knocking, there had been no response, and she was regretfully forced to depart.
She tried to find him the next day, but he was busy training soldiers, and before she had a chance to intervene, she’d been whisked away to perform duties of her own. The next day came and she tried again, only to meet failure once more.
The days went on and the cycle persisted until they finally came face to face in the war room for a council meeting. As expected, though, he did his best to avoid her here, too. Her questions were answered with curt responses and he kept his stern gaze focused on the missives before him, not daring to indicate any sort of familiarity.
She was fully aware of the absurdity of the situation, and it annoyed her to no end, but even more so, it left her feeling miserable. They’d only been together for about a month, but their connection had been forming since the day they’d first met. To think that he would throw away all those months of bonding over a simple accident…it was too much to bear.
When Josephine called the meeting to an end and dismissed everyone, Cullen made a break for the door, but Rima promptly halted him with a sharp order, “Hold a moment, Commander.”
He froze in his tracks reluctantly, the other two advisors making their way around him. Without turning around to face her, he spoke in a dry, somewhat irritated voice. “Yes, Inquisitor?”
Pain creasing her brows, Rima tried to approach him, reaching out to his shoulder. “Cullen…please talk to me…”
His fists clenched noticeably and he faltered for a moment before muttering, “Excuse me, I should be going,” and briskly heading towards the door.
“No!” she cried out, louder than she intended, as she stumbled toward the exit and spread her arms out to block it with her body.
His impassive mask cracked somewhat and for a fraction of a second, Rima got a glimpse of the agony upon his face, but just as soon as it had appeared, it vanished. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but she wasn’t having any of that.
“Cullen, stop this!” she begged desperately, her fierce green eyes boring into him. “We’ve been through worse than this…Are you really going to let some accident get in the way of everything we’ve built up?”
His brows furrowed slightly and his Adam’s apple bobbed, but otherwise, his expression remained largely unreadable. Her anguished expression lingered on his face before she let out a shaky breath and let her head hang. “…Unless…this is your way of telling me you want to end it…” Her words were soft, carrying the entirety of her sense of sorrow and defeat.
His eyes instantly widened at her words and he made to reach out to her, but his hands hesitated in mid-air. “Rima, no…” he choked out, fumbling over his words. “This isn’t your fault…I…” His gaze desperately ran across her face, and he ended up releasing an exasperated groan as his words failed him. “Maker, I really do make a mess of everything…”
Tentatively, Rima reached up to cup his cheek in her hand and his face instantly scrunched up in pain, his eyes squeezing shut. “Cullen…what is this about?” she asked gently, but he only whimpered in response. Quickly, he turned into her caress and planted a firm kiss against her palm as tears began to leak from his eyes.
She remained silent after that, choosing to gently rub her thumb along his stubble in consolation as he divested himself of his bottled up emotions.
Eventually, his tears ceased falling and he slowly opened his eyes to meet her gaze once more. She looked at him wordlessly, her face full of sympathy as she waited for him to find the courage to speak.
They sat in silence for a long while, gazing deep into one another’s eyes and seeing the agony that lay there. Cullen’s hand found its way to Rima’s cheek, mirroring her actions, and he ever so gently brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
“I love you.”
The words left him breathlessly and he’d been staring at her with such intense tenderness that she almost didn’t catch them. She could feel her eyes go wide in response and her heart leaped into her throat, but she didn’t move from her spot. “…What?” she asked hesitantly, her voice small and vulnerable.
He swallowed visibly, uncertainty finding its way onto his face and he stammered somewhat. “I…Maker’s breath, Rima…I love you so much, but I…” His eyes shut again and he released an unsteady sigh as he attempted to regain control of his breathing. “I’m such a broken man…I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, and now, when I’m trying to break that leash…it seems like I’m only destined to make more.”
“That’s not true, you-”
He cut her off with a shake of his head. “I wanted to rid myself of that life…Wanted to put some distance between myself and the horrible atrocities I’d committed, but the pain…it becomes unbearable…” He shook his head again, continuing to avoid her gaze. “So much so that I sometimes forget myself…forget my sense of duty and lose myself to my anger.”
He finally looked up to meet her gaze once more, his hand softly trailing down her face as he spoke. “To be unable to help the Inquisition is one thing…but I would sooner die than endanger your safety with my outbursts.”
She stared at him in concern for a long while, her eyes focused on his, until she ultimately let out a long sigh. When she looked at him again, a small smile had graced her face and she spoke softly, “I am not so fragile that I will shatter like glass.”
He was somewhat taken aback by her remark, but slowly, his expression relaxed and his lips spread out in a warm smile. He gave a small chuckle, perhaps reflecting on his own actions, before he leaned forward to gently capture her lips with his.
When they parted, he leaned his forehead against hers and gave a contented sigh. “I am such a fool…” he breathed, which sparked a small laugh from her.
“To be honest, I think we’re both a little foolish,” she replied with a grin.