Author's Note: And we're back !

I really tried to convey Cullen's mixed emotions throughout this chapter, I hope I did it well but I'm a little worried I didn't capture them as well as I was hoping to... Anyway, hope you all enjoy! We should finally be seeing some more action in the next chapter, so thanks for being patient and sticking it out. :)

It was six days before the Inquisitor woke. And those were six long, anxiety filled days for Cullen. During those days he kept himself as busy as he could, welcoming any distraction he managed to find.

In the first three days, Cullen and the other advisors received regular updates on the Inquisitor's condition during their daily meeting around the war table. Solas would always provide the report and excuse himself calmly, as if he were speaking about any random patient.

And while it was nice to hear that she was stable and improving, it did somewhat little for his nerves. He was constantly reminded that she was in the infirmary, unconscious, bloody and bruised while he and the others tried to put on a facade that she wasn't.

To her credit, Josephine was very good at her job; spinning a narrative to the nobles, the Inquisition's allies, and even their own troops that the Inquisitor was still gone on urgent business in Thedas and on an unrelated note, the infirmary was now under construction.

Leliana kept her people trained on detecting any rumors that the Inquisitor was anything but healthy and fighting in the field, but none arose.

He had nothing he could do to help, and he wondered if that was yet another reason he couldn't sleep at night.

He had wanted to go visit her but every time he thought to, he felt paralyzed. He wasn't sure why. He wanted to see her, it was only right that he go see her, it felt wrong not to….

And yet, he couldn't; he felt anxious, overwhelmed and weak when he thought about seeing her like that again. He just couldn't see her.

And so, he focused on his work, barely sleeping, eating, or doing anything that required him to sit still. He kept his mind or his body busy at all times, except when he was on the brink of exhaustion and had to collapse into his bed for as much sleep as he could dredge out of the night.

He did that for five long days.

On the morning of the sixth day, he felt like he felt he was going mad waiting. He woke early, and found himself in his office, reviewing a fresh pile of reports. That was until a messenger arrived; she was no normal messenger though, she was one of Leliana's agents.

She recounted the message to him: The Inquisitor had been awoken in the early morning hours. Solas had felt she was strong enough, and wanted to pick a time where she could head back to her quarters relatively unnoticed.

Eyes wide, he asked - well, more so demanded , really - where she was. The messenger informed him she was accompanied by Cassandra in the main hall last she knew.

Without another thought, his feet were carrying him there. His strides were long and hastened, he felt his heart sitting tightly in his chest.

When he arrived in the main hall, he found it mostly empty with no sign of Cassandra or the Inquisitor. His heart dropped for a moment. He stood, frozen, wondering where he should check next-

Then he heard the unmistakable voice of Cassandra, shouting from….the garden?

He followed the sounds as he continued his quickened pace through the stone hall. His entire body was tight. He felt like he was sweating, was he sweating?

Maker, what was he even planning on saying to her? He needed to tell her never to do this again, make her understand how worried he was, to always use whatever resources were at her disposal. She needed to understand not to put herself at risk like this.

He was anxious, nervous, and angry - all at the same time.

He burst through the heavy wooden door with little effort, and found himself at the railing in two long strides.

Cassandra was practically marching in the middle of the garden, shouting at the top of her lungs, her strong arms motioning to accentuate her words. Cullen noted how the garden was cleared of all the usual servants, leaving only a precious few of Leliana's agents who were facing the perimeter of the garden.

The Inquisitor was seated on the bench in the center, watching Cassandra pace and biting her lip. When Cullen saw her, he let out a deep breath. All his anxiety, anger...just melted away. He found himself leaned over the railing staring at her.

His heart began to still itself; he hadn't realized how fast it had been beating until now.

"What would a few more hours have mattered?" Cassandra asked the Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor spoke, more quietly and with her voice sounding strained, "Cassandra, I said that next time-"

" Next time you will use the scouts. Next time you will be cautious. Next time you will use your brain ." Cassandra was livid, and the Inquisitor looked tired. He wondered how long Cassandra had already spent berating her.

He found himself staring at the Inquisitor, and yes, she looked tired, but also... so painfully beautiful.

The Inquisitor just nodded, her eyes closed. At that moment Cassandra caught sight of Cullen and began walking towards him, leaving the Inquisitor at her spot on the bench.

Cullen met Cassandra halfway, and she gave him a small nod and continued into the main hall wordlessly. Her cheeks were flushed with anger and he was sure she was on her way to the sparring ring.

The Inquisitor was staring at the ground as he approached, it was clear that she hadn't even realized that Cassandra had departed.

While keeping his stride as steady as he could manage, Cullen took in the scene before him: she was seated on the same bench he had been the night she had arrived, but he couldn't help but notice the stark difference between that night and now.

The sun was shining down on her, the breeze was warm and carried petals with it as it blew. That night, he had felt so loud. Now, as he looked at her, he felt...quiet. Calm .

Her hair was half-wet and done up in a messy bun, with loose pieces blowing in the breeze. She was still staring at the ground, her forehead creased.

He was just a few steps away when she looked up at him, and he froze in place. The Maker must have some sense of humor, because the moment her eyes met his, a warm breeze blew. Light pink petals blew all around her, strands of hair dancing with them as they went. The only sound in the courtyard was that of the trees swaying.

Cullen's mouth went dry. Maker , but he loved her.

The Inquisitor's eyes held his for a few moments before she spoke. She was hesitant, waiting to see his reaction. Her heart fell a little bit when he just stood in place, staring at her. She had hoped...

She didn't know what she had hoped for.

She let out a sigh, "I suppose you've come to lecture me as well?" a small, playful smile pulled at her lips.

Cullen swallowed - loudly - he hoped she didn't hear it. "Unfortunately," he said, his voice sounding low and warm. She closed her eyes and listened to him speak, her heart fluttering as he came to sit next to her, his leg not quite touching hers, "I don't have one prepared."

She smiled, remembering the time she had flirted with him back at Haven regarding 'prepared lectures.'

"Another time, perhaps." she said warmly, reciting his words. She looked up at him then, and found his golden eyes staring right back, holding her gaze intently.

She felt a blush rising in her cheeks when she noticed the smirk on his lips, and loved the way it emphasized his scar. "How have you been?" she asked quietly, shifting back against the bench.

As she did, the neckline of her shirt shifted, and he caught sight for the first time of the bandages wrapped all across her shoulder and chest.

He tore his gaze away from the bit of bruised and bandaged skin and looked into her eyes once more, "Worried." he answered honestly. Her smile faded ever so slowly, "The last time I saw you," his voice lowered, "you were begging me to pull an arrow from your chest."

She looked away from him and shifted in her seat, "I…" she began, not able to find any words to continue.

"Why didn't you wait for the scouts to go ahead?" he asked as calmly as he could.

She knew this was coming, and she had no other answer for him but the truth, but she still felt reluctant to tell him.

The Inquisitor felt her doubts resurfacing; Was he just interested in her for their game? Would he be done with her once it was over?

"I've already gotten that question a few times today." she said, giving her best attempt at a humorous tone, though it came out sounding hollow.

"And your answer…?" Cullen prodded gently.

Her eyes were more serious now, "Varies on who I'm talking to." she let out a little sigh and continued, "I...just wanted to get back." Cullen saw a small blush rising to her cheeks.

Cullen felt his frustrations resurface but he tried to hold them back, lest he end up like Cassandra. "Why didn't you wait?" he asked again. When she gave no response, he felt himself growing tense, "What was so urgent that you-"

Her voice was soft, but he stopped immediately as she spoke, "I...wanted to see you." Her cheeks were red with embarrassment.

Cullen brow furrowed in confusion, "I would've been here no matter what time you arrived," his eyes looked between hers with astonishment and a flicker of anger, "tell me that's not the real reason you just almost died."

Her mouth opened as if to speak, but it took her a few moments to find the words, "I just- I was so tired and we've been on the road for weeks and I just was worried, I've been worried," Cullen's eyes bore into hers as she continued,"that you would have gotten bored with me. That being apart so long would have ruined whatever this is."

Cullen took a few moments and let out a breath, steeling himself. "Speaking as your advisor, what you did was reckless and foolish and the reason you did it… even more so." The Inquisitor felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes as she fought to keep them there.

She felt shame rising in her cheeks, even worse than when Cassandra had been berating her. She looked out into the garden, trying to avoid his eyes. His palm was at her cheek a moment later, turning her face back to him, "Speaking unofficially ," he said as his gaze softened, "the reason you rushed..." looking down at her, he shook his head, "you really think I would tire of you so easily?" his voice slowly grew warmer, softer, even.

A small, fragile smirk pulled at his scar again, "I don't think I could ever tire of you." Her heart stopped in her chest as his thumb caressed her cheekbone thoughtfully. The look in his golden eyes was no less than adoration, and it made her very core melt.

She felt a tear brim over and fall down her cheek, "Even when our game is done?" she asked as a small smile spread across her face.

Cullen pulled a sharp breath between his teeth as he leaned back ever so slightly, "We can end this game whenever you give the word," his voice was a bit lower, "or we can have it go on for as long as it pleases you." She felt herself growing warmer as he spoke, "I'm fully at your mercy."

She struggled to register what he had just said, but then his lips were on hers, pressing into them as if he were sealing words with the act. She felt herself throbbing for him, desperately wishing that the garden were empty, that she could press him down between her legs and-

He broke the kiss, keeping close enough that his breath was warm on her face, "I have something for you," his golden eyes were darker now, the kiss had obviously affected him just as much, "are you okay to walk?"

She smiled softly, bringing her hand to cup his cheek and run her thumb over that scar she loved so much. She nodded gently before pulling him back in for another kiss.

"I have to admit," she said as she stepped into the undercroft, "I didn't think whatever you wanted to show me would be down here." She felt tired from the walk, but tried not to let it show. The ache in her chest was resurfacing for the third time that day.

She pushed it from her mind as she followed Cullen down the steps towards where Harritt and Dagna could usually be found.

When Cullen reached the bottom of the steps he turned back and offered his hand. She took it, thought she showed no signs of needing it. "Yes, well," he said, leading her further into the room, she noticed a dummy with a sheet drawn over it in the far left of the room.

He led her over towards it as he spoke, "I asked Harritt to repair your armor, but with some... modifications."

She smiled warily, "Cullen, what did you do?" he looked at her with a confused glance.

"What? No, nothing, I just-" he sighed as he took hold of the sheet, "just have a look for yourself." As the sheet fell, she couldn't help but step closer.

The design was very similar to what she normally wore, but she noticed thicker and more extensive armor over where her heart would be. She smiled warmly as she reached out and felt the sturdiness of the added plating.

It was only then when she noted the small accents covering the armor; small bits of red and black scattered here and there. Red embroidery, black links; it reminded her of the fur that Cullen always wore.

She smiled and turned towards Cullen, who was rubbing the back of his neck, "Don't worry if you don't like it, or if you prefer it the way it was-"

Her lips pressed into his, and he had to take a step back to steady himself. She wrapped her arms over his shoulders and pulled him further into the kiss. He let out a small groan as her tongue worked his lips open, his hands gripping her hips lightly, as if he was afraid to hurt her.

The thought was sudden, but it was clear and sure in her head:

I love you, Cullen.