wickedgraceless | darilaros

darilaros

[ In the ever changing tides of war, Cullen is not one to complain at an assignment. Even when that assignment brings them to a deep, untouched bog, one covered in a thicket in trees that seem nearly impenetrable. He has to wonder why Daenerys was even asked to join him on this particular mission, given that the heavy overhead of thick, damp trees seem impervious even to her dragon's flames.

But here they are, trudging through it all the same, searching for the dark magic that has seemed to be spreading throughout the neighboring countrysides. The entire place gives him an uneasy feeling, and he has not yet been able to shake the idea that they're being watched. Still, he presses on, sword in hand, wading his way through the swamp. ]

I think, if we are able to get to the center of it, we might be able to get some sense of things.

[ Admittedly, that's only a guess, but it seems just as likely a place to find answers as any. Granted, he's not entirely sure they're successfully navigating towards the center- but he sure hopes he's correct.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ As the lyrium begins to twist through him, some of the worst of it begins to fade away. His hands no longer shake, the pain in his stomach settles, but the fog that seems to cloud his mind scarcely dissipates. Hadn't someone promised him, if it became this bad, they would... what would they do? The memory dances out his reach, and only the vague recollection of a muffled conversation surfaces.

Up. He needs to get up. Clear his head. If only the world would stop spinning for a moment. He holds his hands above his face, watching as his vision splits and doubles his fingers from five, to ten, to five. At last they come fully into focus, and he feels ready to at least sit up. Even that takes what feels like a Herculean effort, but he's managed to get himself up right again.

And then... is that a voice? He turns his head left and right, searching for the origin, finding nothing. His memories must be getting crossed again, he's remembering someone, surely, but who? Dany's voice seems to play on loop in his head, and endless reverberation of 'Cullen, Cullen, Cull... are you here... here... are you... ' A face drifts blearily into his thoughts, wreathed in flame, beautiful and powerful. He knows that face, surely.

In the end, Cullen doesn't answer her anymore than he answers the voice that repeats in his head. But it's difficult to miss the sound of him crashing to floor overhead. ]

[ Dany can't help the way she physically starts when the silence is broken by a loud "thump!" from the loft overhead. ]

Cullen?

[ She calls out again, even as she heads to the ladder. She has to hike the dress up enough that it doesn't catch on her feet as she scales each rung, until her head clears the open floor.

Oh. ]

Cullen!

[ Alarm overtakes confusion as she scurries the rest of the way up, closing the space between her and the man sprawled out on the floor.

Dany kneels beside him, reaches to set a hand on his shoulder. ]

What's happened to you?

[ Concern and sympathy bleed into her voice as her gaze sweeps over him, searching for any signs of injury. ]

[ While he is 'uninjured' he certainly will look different than she remembers. The facade of lyrium addiction has left his skin pallid and almost waxy looking, and where there once was strong musculature, his skin seems to sag. The worst change, perhaps, is in his eyes, where no matter how he tries to focus his gaze they remain glassy and far off. ]

Hm? [ He's at least aware enough to know there's someone there, and her touch sends some clarity spiraling through him, a glimmer of reality that is quickly swallowed again by the nightmare. Cullen manages to pull himself up to sit, rubbing a hand over his face. ] Oh... ah...

[ He looks at her, but doesn't seem to entirely see her. ]

Am I... late for something?

[ A meeting, maybe? Had they told him? Had they forgotten him? ]

[ This is the first Daenerys has ever encountered another person in the Fade – especially someone she knows. It's hard to feel relief having found Cullen when he looks so... wrong. Dany is especially unfamiliar with lyrium and its effects on one's body, and to her, Cullen looks ill, far removed from the strong man she stood beside in the swamp.

Dany's cool eyes search his own honey gaze for a glimmer of steadier light, solid recognition, but there's something... lost that she doesn't understand. ]

Late?

[ She repeats him, shaking her head as she reaches out to press her hand to his face – his forehead, then his cheek, like she's searching for a fever. ]

No, you've nothing to be late for.

[ She rests her palm on his jaw lightly. ]

Do you know where we are?

[ If anything, she'll find his skin a little clammy to the touch, chilled even as sweat beads on his forehead. He looks at her, or rather, through her, before screwing his eyes shut and trying to think. ]

Yes, I do- yes.

[ Though he doesn't sound particularly sure of it. There's too much to keep track of now, and the lyrium eats away at a little more with each day. And he's been falling down the hole of addiction for so long now... hasn't he? ]

Skyhold, of course. [ Cullen takes a shuddering breath, shakily trying to pull himself back to his feet. ] I should... get dressed, I think.

[ That's... well, probably the usual answer for someone unaware of their dreams.

Daenerys reaches to brace him as he tries to get up, offering him something stable amidst his trembling. ]

You look like you need to lie down, Cullen.

[ Maker, he looks like he needs a healer— no, this isn't real. She can't let herself start thinking of it as such. ]

[ Cullen practically clings to her as he stands, grateful for the assistance. It does something else for him as well, sends a hairline fracture through the delusion, not nearly enough to shake him from it, but it strikes him, only briefly, a cold air on his face.

He manages to sit himself on the bed with a groan, hunching over and burying his face in his hands. Although he is scarcely aware of her, of who she even is, he is struck by the feeling that he doesn't want her to see him this way. ]

I'm sorry. [ He manages to mumble through his hands. ] I just...need a moment.

[ Dany takes what she can of his weight, though she swears this should be more difficult; he should be more substantial. Once he manages to move from the floor to the bed, she takes a seat beside him, tucking her long hair behind her ear as she leans forward to watch his face, hidden behind his hands. ]

Take all the time you need, Commander.

[ Her voice is gentle, sympathetic instead of disdainful. Though she has no idea what beset him, she clearly doesn't find his current state worthy of shame.

She sets a warm hand on his shoulder, watching him, allowing him to collect himself.

(But she probably shouldn't. She should probably take him by the shoulders and try to physically shake sense into him, but she can't bring herself to strike out at him in any shape.) ]

What ails you?

[ Part of him wants to pull away from her touch, overwhelmed with the sense that she shouldn't sully herself with someone as tainted as him. Instead, he manages to lean into it, even as he seems to further curl in on himself. The crack widens, little by little, though still not enough to bring him back to his senses. ]

Lyrium. [ He spits out the word as though it pains him just to say it. ] I- I let this happen.

[ The immediate spike of confusion overtakes Daenerys's concern. ]

What do you mean? How has lyrium made you like this?

It... [ Doesn't she understand? He lifts his face from his hands, brows furrowed. His own confusion is muddled with the lyrium, the nightmare, by the way she doesn't understand. ] Templars. Mages. S'complicated.

[ At least, too complicated for him to explain in his current state. ]

[ He is clearly beyond grasping "complicated" right now, so Dany isn't too surprised when he can't manage to explain it to her.

(She knows mages use lyrium for their magic. She knows the templars require a supply of it, too, but she couldn't begin to explain why. The Dothraki didn't exactly think highly of mages, superstitious near to a fault.

The nearest she knew of it all was that one of the nobles who'd housed her and her brother made his fortune in the lyrium trade.) ]

All right. [ She speaks slowly, carefully. ] Then has it poisoned you?

[ Cullen shakes his head, disagreeing, before thinking better of it, and nods. After a moment, he just shrugs, as though unable to say. Poison is not entirely wrong, but it also does not fully describe it. But for someone who doesn't understand, and with himself unable to explain, it works well enough. ]

My fault. [ His voice is low and impossibly sad. ] Wasn't strong enough.

[ Oh.

Daenerys has never heard Cullen sound so... heartbroken. Her own chest feels tight, like some great fist has taken hold of her heart in an iron grip, and the desperate desire to sweep it all away fills her to the brim. ]

Cullen...

[ Her hand moves to brush his hair away from his clammy forehead, smoothing back the messy curls. ]

Whatever this is – sickness or poison – of course it's not your fault. There's no weakness in being unwell.

[ How she wishes she could understand that it is his fault, caused by his own failing and weakness. What he deserves is to be put out of his own misery, not to have her comforting him like this. And yet he leans into again, eagerly, for it again lets his mind just briefly crest above the waves of this nightmare, before it sinks back down again. ]

Sorry. [ He mumbles under his breath. ] Just sorry, is all.

[ Dany leans against him, winding her arm around his shoulders, turning her forehead to press against his temple. ]

Don't apologize.

[ She says it quietly, but firm. ]

Don't, because—

[ —because it's not real.

Something jolts through Dany as the reminder hits her like lightning.

It's a dream. It's an illusion.

You have to get out.

Daenerys withdraws her arm, straightening up and tugging at Cullen's shoulder to encourage him to do the same. ]

Here, look at me.

[ She reaches out to cradle his face in her palms, trying to steady him away from the wavering unease. ]

I need you to do this for me, all right?

[ The sudden change disorients him further, but the feel of her hands against his face brings about a sense of calm. He lifts a shaky hand to grasp one of her wrists, and for the first time it seems as though he actually sees here, even if so much still remains confused. ]

You need...? [ He starts to repeat her, feeling suddenly that he does know, or should know her or- ] I... don't know. I'll try.

Good.

[ The praise is warm, if nothing else.

Her hands stay firmly curled around his jaw, her eyes fixed on his, a hopeful anchor in the storm of the Fade's sinking claws. ]

Can you think back to before this moment? Do you remember leaving Skyhold with me?

With you?

[ How can that be possible? He has been confined to his room for ages, and he's not even sure who she is. How could he possibly remember? But the continued contact with her seems to fight further against the pull of the Fade, and something flashes in his eyes. ]

Daenerys. [ He says suddenly with a gasping breath. It is the first time he's addressed her directly by her name, and under other circumstances, he might have been a bit embarrassed by that. But instead it serves as another beacon to guide his memories back. ] We- We were... the Inquisitor...

[ Her name – not her title.

The recognition she can see in those glassy eyes is instantly heartening, and she nods quickly, smoothing a thumb across Cullen's scruffy cheek. ]

Yes. Yes, we went south because the Inquisitor had other obligations. Do you remember that awful swamp?

I... [ By the Maker, he wants to remember. The feeling over her thumb moving over his face helps, slowly but surely reality seems to seep back into him. As it does his appearance begins to change ever so slightly, the bags beneath his eyes fading, his sunken cheeks slowly swelling. ] Y-yes. I do. You... you lost your horse.

[ It's the first thing he's managed to recall on his own, and yet it sends a look of fear across his face. ]

What is this? What's happening?

Yes, yes, that's right.

[ The change is slow but notable, when he'd looked so startlingly different. Dany nods again, eager, though she can see the uncertainty giving way to fright.

She can't blame him, especially for someone unaccustomed to knowingly walking through dreams. She keeps her tone level and calm, though she can feel her own fear prickling along the edges of awareness, that reminder that she feels lost and vulnerable, that she has no idea how to get out. ]

The magic we found – it put us here. This is... the Fade.

[ She gestures up to the hole in his ceiling, where the illusion beyond the tower has given way to the sickly green skies, the swirling of clouds, the distant Black City – and the Breach, beyond it all. ]

The fade?

[ His gaze follows her gesture upward, where indeed the dark clouds twist overhead. This seems to further shake him free of the nightmare's influence, and for the first time his mind begins to feel clear. ]

It... oh Maker. [ This is quite a lot of trouble, isn't it. But at least it's the sort of trouble they can maybe- hopefully- escape from. Not quite fully back to his true self, Cullen still seems to cling to her. ] How did this- we were just-

[ He inhales sharply as a sudden pain shoots through him. ]

We need to go.

[ The forward momentum is slow, clawing for any small inch through thick mud, but Dany can see more and more of Cullen peeking through the illusion. It’s reassuring – at least until Cullen goes suddenly tense, that sharp catch in his breathing drawing Danny’s attention immediately. ]

What is it? What’s wrong?

I... [ The pain subsides, and he reaches to rub at his temple. The pain has succeeded in jolting him backward, the nightmare's attempt to keep him in line. While nothing about his appearance changes, some of the clarity slips away. ] I don't know.

I think I just need to... rest a moment.

it is a lovely wall

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject