Work Text:
"So where am I supposed to sleep?"
"Well Leliana and I could always bunk together," Josephine's accent was crisp, but the words came out choppy, the chattering of her teeth as she let out little huffs of steam between each word.
"The room in the Chantry has space enough for three beds, more if we install military bunks-"
"We will not have our lead Ambassador sleeping in a bunk bed or sharing a bed with someone who is not her partner." Leliana's firm voice broke the other three apart, their little triangle separating to give her space into the circle. "She is the representative of our work to the nobility of Thedas, and any impropriety will only undermine us more."
"There is enough of that already." Josephine's voice was small, and the shivers that she couldn't control still peppered each word, but there was no disagreement. Weights hung to their tongues, difficulty in responding, the pull of sorrow threatened to drag them down, back into the darkness. If things had gone differently, even if the crisis had not been averted, that room would have been Justinia's, all of them left to fend for themselves.
"Cullen," Cassandra addressed the man, "Bunk with your men. We need to find them arrangements, but it will build confidence if you share their burdens."
"Is there any bed that can fit them?" Cassandra asked.
"In Haven? I doubt it." Cullen scoffed, his shoulder rolling as he adjusted his grip on the makeshift gurney. The Qunari's frame hung over the edges, their head lolling back by the neck where Leliana held them up, their knees bent at the far edge, feet dragging a small line through the top of the snow.
"Arrangements will need to be made." Leliana said. "After what we saw, after that, questions will be asked."
"They're already being asked. Did you hear the singing when she closed that rift?" Cullen grunted.
"Put your back into it." Cassandra huffed, her fingers re-curling around the holds. She'd taken her gloves off, tucked them into her belt for better grip, something she was grateful now, even if her fingers would be blue by the time they made it back to Haven.
"And that's why we are making sure she gets back safely." Leliana whispered. Unspoken warning, that what would happen if she were handed into the arms of the people. Some eyes were sharp and angry, others filled with wonder, but it was enough to make them hesitate to entrust the Qunari woman, Adaar, to anyone else.
"Leliana," Cullen huffed. "Can you send a scout ahead to see if Josephine can find somewhere for her to rest? Properly?"
Harsh sobs rocked Josephine's body. She swayed slightly, one hand braced on the headboard, while the other pushed a pillow into her face. A small reprieve, a moment to let the pain seep through her. How long since she'd taken an indulgence like this? Let herself embrace the pain.
The Herald was safe for now, Cassandra's firm hand would guide her in the Hinterlands, but Josephine couldn't let go of the grief. All day penitents came to her, their pain etched across their face, and she kept a smile, a thoughtful word, but as she locked the door of her office, every piece of strength crumbled. The fortress of controlled grief fell one brick at a time as the tears fell.
"Lady Josephine?" Cullen - it had to be Cullen - he was the only man who would ever enter this room, but she hadn't heard the knock, or creak of the door that no one had yet to fix. She heard it shut however, heard the creak of her bed as she settled next to her. Dropping the pillow, Josephine blinked back tears, trying to build the wall back up.
"My apologies Cullen, what help do you-"
"No, what help do you need?" He looked awkward, unsure what to do, but tentatively his hand reached around her back to her far shoulder. "I can sit with you if that would help."
Her throat trembled, the need to help, to compose herself and make things better, battled with his offer, and finally the need for connection won out. Her head against his shoulder, Josephine sobbed.
Cullen tossed.
Cullen flipped his pillow over.
Cullen turned.
Cullen rolled over again.
Cullen flipped his pillow over. But both sides were hot because he had just flipped it over.
Finally, Cullen gave up the war with sleep, slipped on his boots, and let the moonlight guide him as he wandered Skyhold. There was a hunger that clawed at his blood, not for food, but for the lyrium that he denied himself, too powerful to let himself sleep. Some nights were like this, where the need was too much, the draw of it consuming every thought.
Nights where demons of his past reminded him that he was a liability to their mission. The addiction was only the newest of those issues, never mind the sins he'd committed in the Templar order. All he could do was throw himself into their problems now, not let his own deficiencies sink them. The war room, that was better than aimlessly wandering the stables or kitchens.
"Commander?" Josephine looked up as he wandered into her office. The candles had burned low, only a dim light, too dim for how much she was writing.
"Lady Ambassador," He gave a curt nod. "Why are you still up?"
"Antivan habit I suppose," She smiled. "Our cities only come to life when the sun sets. But yourself Cullen? I know you rise with the dawn."
"I can't sleep." There was little point in lying to the most accomplished word smith in the Inquisition.
"And you thought that in this sleep deprived state to go to the war room?" Josephine's eyebrow raised.
"Better than doing nothing."
"I have a different opinion." Josephine tapped her quill out. "I think now would be a fantastic time to prepare for the Winter Palace."
"I really don't think that's necessary -"
"Oh no, I insist," The Antivan's smile was more dangerous than any wyvern he'd ever faced, and he a helpless nug. But when he awoke on her couch hours later, seemingly have passed out within minutes of her tutelage, Cullen couldn't hide the grateful grin. She'd even tucked him in, the blanket around him snug enough that he wanted to curl back up.
Cullen,
I've left a small basket in your room. Its a collection of teas and candles that are supposed to give restorative benefits, making the sleep you get more substantial, and the helping you get to sleep faster. I have checked with my experts multiple times, none have any addictive qualities recorded.
Please let me know which work best and we can have them regularly delivered.
-Leliana
"Leliaaaaaaaannnnnnnna~"
"I'm not Leliana," Cullen said softly, helping lift the woman up the next stair.
"Cullen~" The singsongy tone returned to her voice. "Can we find Leliana?"
"I'm fairly certain she's already passed out." He said softly. The Banquet Hall downstairs was a mess, celebrations had been going on for hours, and didn't seem likely to end anytime soon. The Inquisitor may have disappeared to her quarters long ago, but Leliana had been leading drinking games up until an hour ago, despite him never once seeing her drink.
"Noooo it's not even a real party yet," Cassandra hiccuped as they went up the next step.
"I don't think I've ever seen you this drunk before," He laughed.
"We deserve it tonight," She laughed. "I remember fighting so hard for you to be our Commander."
"Did you have other candidates?"
"There was so much debate. But I knew," Cassandra stuck her finger into Cullen's chest, "I knew you were the perfect fit for us."
"Do you need help Cullen?" Leliana spoke up. Cullen glanced up, seeing her on the stairwell above them.
"Yes, please," Cullen groaned.
"Leliaaaaannnaaa," Cassandra grinned. "Its been so long since were trekking all over Thedas, I miss it just the two of us."
"You hated every minute of it and complained constantly."
"Shhhh," Cassandra waved her hand, but Leliana swooped under, taking the other woman's shoulder. "I complain to care."
"Let's get her to bed." Cullen said.
"Agreed."
"Wait no we should go back down - the Inquisitor-"
"Safely in her bed resting, something we've all earned now." Leliana smiled, a rare sight the past year of the Inquisition, but it was there, even as she bowed her head.
"A good night in a real bed." Cullen laughed, "The best thing a soldier can hope for."