Panic's Note: Color me discouraged. Is it wrong for me to have hoped for a stronger response to the introduction of my pivotal plot twist? I'm starting to think I may have actually shot myself in the foot. I do, of course, thank those of you who follow, favorite, and review. Much love! :D

Alright, so apart from my whining plea for reviews, truth be told they feed me (/shot), let's get back to the matter of story telling and character depth. This chapter is centered in some deep elements. It was amazingly fun and pretty emotional to write. A note to spoilers concerning Champions of the Just. Now shall we continue?

Chapter 4: What's Left

Deep blue eyes were held captive by the steady trickle and fall of blood. Evelyn couldn't recall how many times she'd muttered 'no' much less how much time had elapsed since falling silent. Blood represented the sight that had led her into silence. She didn't want to understand it, yet the press of bile toying at her gag flex seemed to suggest otherwise.

Deep red fell in the wake of ripped flesh, stretched tendons, and torn muscles. A softer glow radiated in a mock pulse about the hand. It was a reminder that she hadn't imagined the embedded symbol that bore a resemblance to her own. She wanted to pull her eyes away from it, yet she couldn't. The haunting pulsating red that had wisped about Corypheus's intricate orb burned behind her eyes. If she had felt responsible for the downfalls of the Inquisition it held little weight when placed next to this.

"I," Evelyn started in a hoarse voice. The tickle and acidic taste of bile fought against her words. "I can fix this," she choked, watching another few drops plummet from his hand.

Everything that defined Cullen's condition seared into her mind alongside the orb. The way he had worked to guard and shield his arm within the tunnels joined with the sudden surge of power that accompanied his touch. His hesitation in talking and detachment from the Inquisition fueled his endless attention to the maps. Solas's observations met with the darkness that always came to focus on Cullen. The connections all traced back to Corypheus and the orb it possessed.

"You and I," Cullen struggled to find his voice, while he held his position on his unmaimed hand braced into the ground at his side. "Both know that is nothing more than wishful thinking." His words came out with more coherence. The passage of time seemed to have calmed the turmoil that had clouded his speech earlier.

"Cullen," Evelyn sighed, trying to convey a tone that challenged his defeating words. Yet, she knew that he had every right to be defeated. She watched as more blood escaped the fingertips that hid his scar. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked quietly, shifting the subject away from her impulsive claims to fix it. Although, her mind continued to sort through and work with it. She had to believe that she could somehow remove his bleeding scar.

"I have read the reports," Cullen began with a pause and shallow cough. "From Theirnfal Redoubt." He sucked in a shaky breath almost willing himself to remain strong in order to deliver his words clearly. "The red templars, the abominations, they all exhibited torn flesh marred by their own blood." A faint tremor shook his broad shoulders announcing the pain still coursing through his body. He weakly flexed the fingers on his bleeding hand. "This is of that nature," he ended, his voice barely above a whisper.

Another cold flush rushed through her veins at his words that supported his defeat. She didn't want to acknowledge the twisted resemblance it also held with the red lyrium tainted templars. Yet, the red cracked flesh that encased those still recognizable as human mirrored the inflamed edges of flesh on Cullen's hand. That paired with Corypheus caused bile to blaze painfully at the back of her tongue. She couldn't allow herself to accept the possibility of the relation.

"You cannot be certain," She denied, with a shake of her head as she pulled her eyes to the ground where a small crater of snow melted by blood caught another drop. "There," She muttered, taking a small step back. "There wasn't red lyrium." She asserted, while moving to warily pace. The sudden differences between the two flew from her mouth in a weak attempt to dismiss his parallels.

"Yet it runs off blood," Cullen observed, his tone adopting distance as he shifted in the snow. Her gaze shot back to him at the sound. "Nothing of any greater good has ever come from that." He breathed out, while struggling to stand up.

Evelyn opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She wasn't sure what to say to detract from that awful truth. At that, she wasn't sure there was anything to say that could overpower it. His words spoke of a demented magic. She couldn't deny the blood that accompanied whatever power his scar held. The image of his blade shining with, and flaring power through, his blood flashed into her mind as she turned her attention away from him and continued to pace. Cracks began to spread in her weak theory to fix it.

"It isn't that simple."She offered, shaking her head and tossing him a quick glance. Her steps slowed as she watched him stagger towards his sword. A part of her sparked with the sudden hope that he was moving to resume his duty. She would be more than willing to look past this and even let it rest. It would be fixed with time. It had to be and until then they would fight through these episodes.

"But it is also too great of a liability," Cullen replied, his voice hitching as he bent to pickup the sword. "One that the Inquisition cannot afford." He added, taking a deep breath.

"Cullen-" She started in a plea that clung to her spark of hope. The idea of having to beg for his understanding and attention brought her words to a standstill. She found herself questioning just what it was she was pushing him and ultimately hoping for.

Corypheus had to be the source for his scar just as it was for hers. Again, her mind routed back on anything that could reverse it. The weight of guilt she felt for his pain and troubles was starting to suffocate her. A part of her wanted to find something to offer as a solution and push that would drive him forward. He had seen her through her doubts that pulled at her ability to fight and she wanted to find a way to do the same for him. She needed to. Her mind ran in a sickening fury to find an offer in support of this as her eyes stared absently at the ground.

"What are you doing?" She asked with a startled jump as the blood caked blade glinted in the light and entered her field of vision. All of her attempts at some weak form of support ended in an instant. Deep blue melded with light touched brown. An unspoken fear and understanding drifted between them. His blade was raised in an honorable offering and forced her breath to catch.

"I have failed more than my command."Cullen began weakly, his eyes showed a glimmer of guilt as the man forced himself to remain still in his kneel. "Through my actions I have risked the people's well-being, broken my vows to the Inquisition, and hidden something deadly." The sword shook slightly drawing her attention to the bright red of fresh blood lining its edge within his right hand and blocking the source of his painful speech. "I am a coward and a threat." His eyes narrowed in reflection of disapproval in himself, while the rest of his features trained into an expression void of emotion. "Do what you must." He forced out, maintaining his composure and bowing his head.

Evelyn found herself fighting for air as she shook her head miserably at Cullen. Every ounce of hope drained from her with his offering and self-incriminating speech. He was pushing his life into her hands, which was more than she wanted to have a choice in. The struggled choices of her poor leadership and judgement weighed even harder on her guilt. It was yet another factor that could have produced this.

"I may be of noble blood." She started, all traces of emotion ebbed from her voice. The Trevelyan ruling on dishonest knights flooded wickedly into her thoughts. "But am not of noble mind. Do not ask this of me." Her voice trailed off as she watched him with a tight frown.

"I can hear them, Evelyn." Cullen muttered; the resolve he'd found to offer his sword against himself was gone. "The demons," he corrected, the sword's hilt rattled against his gauntlets as a severe tremble tore along his strained arms. "They," his voice hitched with a pause as he allowed the sword to fall uselessly back to the ground and take his remaining strength with it. "They call out."

"Cullen," She cautioned almost in an effort to make him stop talking. The idea of his scar and its power was too much for her to take in. It was her fault he had to bear it. She knew of the pain that came from the demonic anchor and it was one she would not have wished on any other individual much less him.

"I wanted it to kill me," he continued with a desperate half-glance back at the shade's remains in a heap on the glistening ground. "The lyrium was supposed to ease the pain." He confessed, his voice falling back into the quiet depths of misery. "But it helped me. I did not want to fight, but it." He paused with a weak shake of his head. "Blocked it, or confused it." He sucked in a deep breath to steady himself. "But the shade, that demon, it understood me."

The horrifying truth in his confession rammed into Evelyn full force as she took an unsteady step back. Her brain reached desperately to find words, actions, or simply anything to offer him. Yet, this added testament in the wake of his offered blade scared her. She could see the fear that gripped at him within the weak tremble that gently rattled his frame.

There was no comfort to ease it. Even in his weak state he had seen and judged what she couldn't. He was right and she was wrong to have refused the offer. Everything he said echoed of something dangerous, but the idea of ending him still couldn't form in her mind. She could hardly bring herself to accept that he had tried to die in order to eliminate his risk on the Inquisition.

"I cannot go back to that place." Cullen added, his tone seeming to beg for a relief she couldn't offer. Desperation lined his face and pulled at his eyes as he sought out her gaze.

"No," she muttered again in refusal of something she wasn't fully sure of. The place he seemed so terrified of eluded her, but she didn't dare to question it. Her gaze met his and just as quickly dropped. The impact of his desperation forced even more guilt and hopelessness on her.

"If I am possessed." Cullen drawled, with a shake of his head.

"Would I still be standing here, unarmed, if so?" Evelyn shot back warily, doing her best to mask her doubt surrounding the possibility. Demon possession was a subject she knew scarcely anything about. The Envy demon that had invaded her mind and crippled her body was her only point of reference.

"But I have felt this in the circle," Cullen let his own words fall away as his gaze fell to the ground and head bowed again.

"If I am anything of a target I doubt a demon would pass me by as vulnerable as I currently stand." Evelyn reiterated, trying to pack confidence and reasoning into her words. Although, she felt she was grabbing uselessly at straws.

A haunting image of metal biting into the pale expanse of skin under the faint dust of beard that lined his sharp jawline slammed into her mind. The impact caused a burn at the edge of her eyes as she recalled Envy's nastiest trick against her. Her attention fell to the blade in the snow between them. It worked as a physical divide and reminder of what was at stake. She felt herself impulsively fighting to support him despite the deadly possibilities surrounding him.

"I was a templar," Cullen pressed, his shoulders slumped under the uncontrolled trembling that displayed his complete defeat and pain. "Everything I learned was to stop this." He continued, remaining steady despite the gravity of his words.

"We do not understand what any of this truly is," She offered with a gesture of her cursed hand. "I am as much of a liability as you are." She stated, forcing strength into her words as her eyes searched over his withdrawn posture.

"How can you," Cullen paused, finding something of more value to say. "Even so, how can this be the Maker's plan?" He asked in a tone that betrayed the full depth of his desperation. "I have always followed your words," he muttered to himself as a more defined tremor shook his worn body. "Never have I strayed, never have I questioned."

The burn of tears pressing at her eyes grew as she watched Cullen hopelessly. She had not realized just how deeply his troubles went. He had faced ending an addiction to lyrium, handled the responsibility of securing The Inquisition, and managed to work despite the scar painfully biting into his hand. Yet, he hadn't allowed any of it to break into the power of his belief until now. She found a sad understanding in why his strength was gone. He had managed to hold on despite facing something she feared she couldn't. It was happenstance that had brought her out here, while he had gone out of his way to offer her strength even when his own had been failing him. She had been the pinnacle of selfish. Not once had she noticed Cullen's masked pain.

"How am I to believe with this?" Red rimmed eyes, fighting for slight composure rose to meet hers as he weakly jostled his right arm.

"I-I do not know." Evelyn replied quietly, her voice failing her as she took in his sorrow and misery. It left her with only hollow words in return.

She noticed the slightest fracture of expression on his face before it bowed tightly into his chest. Her mind searched for something more to say, but fell short. She could feel the drag of emotions draining her as she watched the pain induced trembles that rattled his broad body shift into something stronger with an intensity that clinked in unison with his moving armor.

No other sounds escaped the broken commander as his body announced the silent despair of his mind. She could not see the tears, but knew them to be there. He had reached his final breaking point. Her body seemed to work on its own accord as she took a step towards him. Slowly, she reached her hand out and ran it gently through his soft blonde hair.

Cullen didn't make any indication that he was aware of her action as he remained still at her touch. The contact, however created a sudden rush of emotions that blurred tears into her vision. His lack of a response gave Evelyn the impression that Cullen had finally buckled under the pressure of his troubles. Tears escaped the corner of her eyes as her hand tighten within the thick fine strands of his hair.

A sudden and crashing thought of actually losing him shattered whatever strength she thought she had come to possess. The thought left her hollow and without meaning. It was sudden and far too gripping to handle as she stumbled on the sad realization that he had been her strength. Through him she had fought against her internal doubts. He had been the one constant thing within the mess that had clouded her mind and judgement. She felt the cool press of snow along her shins and knees as she fell down into it, while her hand dragged along the side of his face and came to rest on his shoulder. It was hard to determine who was more broken of the pair at this point.

The memory of Envy's brutal death collided with the shade that had been within a few strikes of tearing his armor only moments ago. She didn't care what risk came with the scar on his hand. She didn't care that he had broken his vow to end his lyrium consumption. She didn't care that she had provoked Corypheus and potentially sparked his fury that might have created this. She didn't care. All she found herself fighting against was the emptiness that was left in the wake of the hypothetical loss. The same emptiness that had halted her progress with defeating Envy. She couldn't establish whatever had connected him to her, nor could she explain why she put so much trust in the man.

"Envy used your death against me, Cullen." She forced through her tears, unable to keep the memory to herself. Deep blue eyes pierced into Cullen begging for him to come back to her. "I cannot bear to see it or," her voice wavered as light touched brown eyes lifted to meet hers. "Live through it again." She trailed off at the crippling and jarring truth behind her words. Tears flowed without regard from her eyes as she looked to him with the same level of desperation he returned.

A charged intensity seemed to course within their stare as they both sought to find a purpose within each other. The comfort that had been missing flared back into life as the edges of Cullen's eyes smoothed away the creases that had marked his misery. She could feel the pull of confused feelings that seemed to linger within the exchange. It brought her back to the day when he'd pushed her to fight. It reminded her of the reasons she continued to do so.

The stare was ended by Cullen pulling her tightly into his arms. Her body fell into into his and her head came to rest in the crook of his neck. His faint scent and warm smooth skin invaded her senses as she pressed slightly into his firm hold. A warmth branched throughout her body, while she tried to find words. Yet she didn't want to end this small act of comfort, which seemed to ease both of them.

"I-I need you," Evelyn admitted in a voice she hardly recognized as her own. She didn't care how weak or selfish it sounded. All she cared about was making him fight.

Cullen's head tilted to rest against hers as he tightened his hold on her. She could feel the steady thump of his pulse against her cheek and blinked against another rush of tears. The searing image of Envy's display forced back into her mind. If she had taken his offer the image would've become a reality, which terrified her even more. For whatever reason she had come to rely on the man and within his hold she allowed it to exist without doubt or hesitation.

"Promise me," Cullen began in a stressed tone, forcing Evelyn to shift away from his embrace to see his face. She could make out the collection of worry, defeat, and fear that captured his expression. "If this," He trailed off, turning his gaze to the ground and sighing. "You will end me before I can." His words caught again as he returned his gaze to hers. The unspoken note of death falling short.

"You have my word." She agreed weakly. Evelyn felt the prick of more tears burning at the edge of her raw eyes as she nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"And mine to see you through this." Cullen vowed, an edge of conviction highlighted his words. The faintest traces of his strength tried to resurface as he rested his mouth against her forehead. She could feel the slight shift in pressure as he faintly kissed it, while they both clung to the only comfort that eased their separate desperation.

Does the hobbitses like it?! Does they, precious? *flails about* Reviews so juicy sweeeet!

...well I think I'm funny. Anyways, I'd love to know what you guys think. So as always reviews are appreciated!

'Til Chapter 5! :)