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Trust Again (Ch.1)

The south was cold...and yet he never dressed to accommodate the weather because he prided himself in his fashion sense. Well now it was coming to bite him in the ass with a vengeance. The Hinterlands were fine, but when the Herald brought Dorian to Haven, it was a completely different story. Snowy terrain with clothes that were meant to be worn in Tevinter didn't mix well, and it was even worse after the attack on the small village.

The Frostback Mountains were even more unforgiving with even more snow and the biting wind that followed them all as they marched through them. Those that were native to the area were either undeterred or barely noticed, but Dorian felt better knowing that it was affecting some people. Mostly those that were injured or from Orlais but that was neither here nor there. In fact, Dorian was surprised when Josephine of all people seemed unbothered seeing as she was of Antivan descent.

Leliana showed no signs either but that was to be expected of their Spymaster. She hardly gave what she was feeling or thinking away so easily. The Commander though? Dorian chalked it up to that furry mantle of his that he looked at home despite the low morale hovering over those that were left from the attack.

Dorian had tried to keep himself warm as they marched through the unforgiving terrain, but he was pretty sure that he had left his feet some ten or fifteen miles back. He wasn't even sure how he was still walking. He had no more natural reserves of mana in his body to ward off the chill, and lyrium was in low supply. It wasn't something he could ask for just to keep himself warm.

Not that he would. He may have been used to the glares and whispers, but he wasn't actively looking for a reason for these people to hate him even more. He truly wanted to help and they couldn't seem to look past the fact that he was Tevinter. Not that Dorian could blame them. Even he knew his homeland had and continued to do questionable things. That was part of the reason he was here, to see if there was a way to change that. Even the smallest bit.

Dorian suddenly pitches forward, barely able to save himself with his hands, and his side rather painfully protests the sudden movement. Which was odd. He didn't remember getting injured, but a simple glance to his left side revealed the blood seeping through his robes. Perhaps it was just a scratch? They had been traveling for hours and if he hadn't collapsed earlier, it surely wasn't fatal. Dorian could wait until they set up camp for the night.

"Are you alright?" Cullen asks once he rushes to the mage's side and helps him to his feet.

"I'm fine." Dorian waves the commander off and tries to ignore the warmth radiating off the other man's body. He was already tempted to lean closer because he was that cold. "Thank you."

"You're freezing." Cullen frowns.

"Yes, I'm sure everyone is."

"To the touch Dorian." The commander elaborates.

Dorian opened his mouth to reassure the commander that his concern was appreciated but unnecessary, but was stopped when pain reverberated through his side again. He faltered again as black spots filled his vision, and this time, Cullen was there to catch him before he landed face first in the snow. His hand wrapped around Dorian's waist, causing more pain to flare and the mage to groan softly, and through his darkening vision, he could see Cullen pulling his hand away.

Blood covered his glove.

"We make camp here! Tend to the wounded!" Cullen calls out loudly though it sounded far away to Dorian.

He lost consciousness after that. The warmth Cullen provided in the few seconds beforehand made everything a little more bearable. Dorian drifted in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware that he was floating at one point but some part of his mind, far back, that was still lucid, whispered that he was being carried. Leather and sandalwood invaded his senses before it faded away and Dorian was assaulted with other scents. Smells he would associate with healers. It started to overwhelm him and he blessedly drifted out again, only to drift back in when he heard talking. It was low and quiet and ended before Dorian could even process what was being said.

Then, suddenly, he was warm. He had been subconsciously aware of the thin blanket that had covered him, but whatever had been laid on him for extra warmth had done what was intended. Dorian was finally warm and the pain was barely worth noting, so he was able to slip off into a dreamless sleep and finally get some proper rest.

When he properly woke, he found himself staring up at the top of the tent he was in and his attempted glance out of it was fruitless. The flaps were down and closed to ward off any interruptions so Dorian had no idea how long he had been unconscious. He very quickly determined how he was so warm though. Cullen's fur mantle was draped over him and the man himself was just a few feet away, hunched over a map on a makeshift table made from a couple of barrels and a slab of wood. Cullen also seemed to have removed his armor and was in nothing but a loose woolen shirt and his pants.

Clearly the cold didn't bother him in the slightest.

"Commander, the list you requested." A scout mutters when he quietly lifts the flap of the tent.

Cullen turns and takes the offered paper with a nod. "Thank you. Get some rest."

And just like that, the tent was closed again and Cullen was hunched back over his table. But Dorian was too distracted by the realization that he was in the commander's tent. Why not the medical tents? Was it because no one wanted a Tevinter near? It was plausible.

Dorian sighed internally and tested his ability to sit up and his side protested the movement but not nearly as much as it had earlier. Despite the reason he was in Cullen's tent, the healers at least did their job.

"You're awake." Cullen says when he looks over after Dorian sits up. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." Dorian mumbles and looks around to confirm his suspicion. There was no doubt that this was Cullen's tent. "Commander...why exactly am I in your tent?"

The commander offers him a water skin which Dorian accepts gratefully. "The medical tents were full. I offered to let you rest here. Why didn't you tell someone you were injured?"

"Oh please. There were others that were injured. I'm not going to request a healer for a little scratch." Cullen frowns at him and Dorian sighs before admitting, "I didn't notice."

Cullen fortunately seems to conclude that Dorian was telling the truth and takes back the water skin before handing the mage a flask. It's red contents told Dorian that it was a healing potion and he took it and drank it gratefully. The pain in his side subsided even more and he estimated that he would probably be back on his feet in the morning. Assuming it was evening. The sun was starting to set when he collapsed.

"How long have I been out?" Dorian asks.

"A day. It's evening now." Cullen answers. "You lost some blood on top of exhausting your mana." He adds with a raised eyebrow but Dorian was too concerned with what Cullen had said just moments before to argue.

"A day? Commander, have you slept?"

"I…" Cullen sighs heavily and rubs the back of his neck. "Here and there. There's too much to do after…"

After Haven. Morale was low, the Herald possibly dead, and they had nowhere to safely lay their heads. Cullen was stretching himself thin trying to get some semblance of stability back under them and Dorian could tell by the bags under his eyes. Cullen looked absolutely exhausted and Dorian found that he couldn't accept that.

He tsks and gets up from the cot, and brushes off Cullen's hand when he holds it out in concern. A quick glance to the other side of the tent calmed Dorian's worries when he found another cot, and he pointed to it. Part of him was glad that he hadn't taken the Commander's bed, but another craved the warmth of the other man. A want that he would have to squash. This wasn't the time to tease the commander. It was clear that he was tired and on edge.

"Our crisis will be here in the morning. You might think better when you are rested and your shoulders don't touch your ears." Dorian says as he gently prods the other man to his bed.

Cullen's shoulders immediately slump. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I am. We don't want our illustrious commander to be the next to collapse." Dorian smirks. "You're not dramatic enough and I've already done so."

"Dorian…" Cullen sighs heavily but the mage presses a finger against his lips to silence him. His half-hearted glare only made Dorian smile.

"I promise not to accost you in your sleep."

Oh the blush that adorned Cullen's face was delightful. When he first came to Haven, he and Cullen had a rocky start, but Dorian learned which buttons to push and soon formed a friendship with the commander. They even played chess or drank in the tavern if Cullen could find time to spare. Most of the time, Dorian was the one pulling him away from work. Of course making sure it wasn't urgent. Cullen's idea of urgent was everything that landed in his hands so Dorian took it upon himself to make sure the man took a break every now and again. At least when the Herald wasn't dragging him all over Thedas.

"Sleep."

"Just for a little while," Cullen mumbles and Dorian walks over to the candles to blow them out so the commander wouldn't be disturbed.

Of course, Dorian could have used his natural magical abilities to blow out the flames instead of tediously blowing them out, but he knew Cullen got nervous about something like that. While he didn't know exactly why magic made the commander nervous, Dorian picked up over time as their friendship grew that there was a good reason for it. Cullen admitted over one of their chess games that he treated mages unfairly in the past and was trying to rectify that, but didn't elaborate.

Dorian would usually prod and try to get the story out of someone, but this was one of those times when patience was a virtue. Cullen might tell him when or if he was ready.

He climbed back onto his cot and pulled Cullen's mantle tightly around him to stave the freezing temperature away once again, and managed to fall back asleep. He didn't get to sleep very long though. Something woke him a couple of hours later, and after Dorian determined how much time had passed, he looked around the tent for whatever may have woken him up. Everything seemed as it should, Cullen was miraculously still asleep and--

"Get away!" The commander mumbles in his sleep.

--not sleeping well. The man was talking in his sleep, showed signs of tossing and turning, and Dorian could even see a light sheen of sweat on Cullen's brow. Against his better judgement, Dorian quietly got up to see if he could rouse the commander from his nightmare so he could try and get some decent sleep.

"Commander?" He calls softly as he walks over. When the man shows no signs of waking, Dorian reaches out to touch his shoulder. "Cullen--fasta vass!"

He should have known better. Cullen was a soldier. One with some kind of bad history with mages. So Dorian really should have considered that the commander would lash out, even in his sleep. In this case, Cullen grabbed Dorian's wrist with lightning quick reflexes and squeezed hard enough, the mage was certain he heard his bones creak.

Then came the smite.

It sent Dorian to his knees as his magic was ripped from him and he felt like a useless babe. The smite was powerful and even briefly knocked the wind out of his lungs, but he was too busy with the thought of this shouldn't be possible. When Dorian first met Cullen, he called the man a templar, but as they became friends and he was around the commander more, he realized something. Cullen clearly had been off lyrium for some time. At least long enough that Dorian couldn't sense it like he could with other Southern templars.

Long enough that a smite should have no longer been possible for the man. Especially one this powerful.

"Cullen..." Dorian tries again through gritted teeth. He finally manages to look up and finds the commander staring at him with absolutely no recognition. Then it hit him. "Commander, wherever you are...you aren't there anymore. It's a dream." A nightmare.

"Liar!" The commander seethes.

Dorian scrambled to think of a way to remedy his situation. Cullen's grip wasn't faltering, and his magic would not be back for a few more minutes. Perhaps a gentle touch was needed? Despite the fact it was what got him into this mess in the first place, it felt like the right thing to do. Cullen was trapped in a nightmare, and gentle touches usually weren't part of them. So he musters enough strength through the after effects of Cullen's smite to lift his free hand and gently place it on the commander's cheek. Dorian let himself enjoy the feeling of the man's stubble underneath his fingers for a moment, and his heart sank when the commander jolted from the touch.

Maybe there was more to Cullen's history than Dorian thought.

"Who hurt you?" Dorian whispers.

He kneeled there for the longest time, brushing his thumb across Cullen's cheek and occasionally the scar across his lip, in the hopes that the touch would eventually break through the nightmare. Dorian barely noticed the cold seeping into his knees. Any other day he would voice his discomfort, but he was more concerned about the Inquisition's commander. Contrary to popular belief, Dorian was very capable of caring about other people than himself.

After what seemed like hours, Cullen finally sat up with a gasp and he immediately released his hold on Dorian's wrist as realization creeped into his eyes. Dorian took note of how the man shook as he raised his hand to run it through his hair, and he looked around for the water skin from earlier. Once he found it on the makeshift table, Dorian reached up to grab it and offered it to Cullen.

"Here, slowly," Dorian says and Cullen takes the water, taking small sips as the mage took the risk of using his magic to light the candles. It would hopefully help chase away the remnants of Cullen's nightmares. "How often do you have the nightmares?"

"Too often." Cullen answers and wipes his face with his hand.

"Because of the lyrium withdrawals?" When Cullen looks at him in surprise, Dorian huffs. "I'm a mage, Commander, and before you worry your pretty head about it, it's only obvious to me. Unless you have other mage friends."

Cullen sighs. "On and off. Mostly when I'm having a bad day."

"I imagine the stress of our current situation isn't helping matters." Dorian says softly and groans as he gets up and manages to sit next to Cullen.

"No. It's not. Did I hurt you?"

"Not really. Though you did surprise me with a smite." Dorian admits. "A powerful one too. My magic is only starting to come back."

The commander blinks. "A smite? That's not possible. I haven't taken lyrium in months."

"Maybe you have a natural affinity to use that skill like our resident Seeker. Are you alright now?" Dorian asks.

"A little. Don't think I'll be going back to sleep with the headache I have." Cullen mutters. "And our provisions are too scarce for some elfroot tea."

Dorian weighed his options. It was true there wasn't much to go around and that any elfroot should probably be saved for those more heavily injured, but his idea likely wouldn't sit well with Cullen. He would really like to see the man get some sleep though so he figured he might as well ask.

"I have an idea." Dorian says. "If you trust me, I could use some of my magic to help."

Cullen looks at him skeptically... nervously. "What kind of magic?"

"I do know a good bit of healing magic. You'd be surprised what you have to know about it to practice necromancy." Dorian replies. "Maybe a touch of storm magic."

It was Cullen's turn to weigh his options, but his desperate need for relief and sleep must have won out because he nodded. With a soft smile, Dorian directed him to lay back down on his stomach and stood over him to better access Cullen's broad shoulders. An observation that Dorian brushed away. He was here to help the commander with a relaxing massage and nothing more.

So with some healing magic at his fingertips, Dorian got to work. He rubbed circles into the tight muscles of Cullen's back and shoulders, occasionally drawing a soft groan of appreciation and relief from him, and periodically sent a tiny bit of electricity into the muscles that were more stubborn. The first time he did it, Cullen wasn't expecting it and startled a little bit, but Dorian was able to quickly soothe him into relaxation with an apology. It wasn't an issue for the rest of the massage.

"It's no wonder you have headaches. The tension you're carrying is giving me one." Dorian huffs. "I promise that no one will think less of you if you take a break on occasion."

When Dorian didn't receive any kind of response, especially a protest or argument, he tilted his head to look at the commander. Only to find him fast asleep. His breaths were coming out soft and slow, his muscles were pliable again, and he didn't show signs of another nightmare. Cullen was finally getting some proper rest and even looked younger in his relaxed slumber.

Dorian slowly pulls his hands away and grabs the blanket to gently lay back over him, and snuffs out the candles again. This time with a wave of his hand. He considered Cullen's trust in using his magic on him was an enormous victory and also may have strengthened his trust in Dorian's magic in general. It was just a matter of time until he could confirm it though.

So he crawled back onto his cot once again, and this time, Dorian was able to sleep until morning.

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