Dragon Age Inquisition/Origins
Cullen Rutherford
A quick one-shot playing with Cullen, Circle thoughts and lyrium withdrawal again, cos...It's Angstpril!
⁘For @chaos-company's Angstpril Day 6 - The Past Comes Back To Haunt ⁘
(On AO3 here)
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They were here.
Cullen’s breath misted in the air before him, the only pale interruption to the dark stone and shadowed shelves. He could hear it, far too clearly, the caught exhale an interruption between his senses and the sound he should be studying.
The Commander’s hand went to close around the hilt of his sword: nothing. Maker . His heart stopped, the churn of realisation like ice in his gut. Eyes darting through the black, he spied it on the other side of the room, laying carelessly on his desk.
Of course . They knew his routine. They had waited until his guard was down.
They always did.
For a moment, Cullen’s feet were frozen in place, the frost in the air biting at his skin whilst paranoia probed his thoughts. Was this a trap? The next moment, though, he moved, and fast - action was needed, and that certainty took charge of the otherwise scattered troops of his faculties, sending time-tested orders to hands and limbs whilst the rest of his mind stretched fearfully out into the silence.
Sword seized; cover taken; ready. Again, his breath misted, but he forced control over its speed, keeping it silent and slow despite its desire - shared by his feet - to run. He crouched behind the barrier of his desk, armed and waiting. Was that a creek? Fools; they may know the Circle, but he knew it better. Twisting to look at the room, back against the table and keeping in cover, he eyed the three doors and the ladder before him - that made four entrances in total, and he swore to Andraste and the Maker that he had ever let the Knight-Commander permit so many.
He waited, unsure how long for, his ears straining in the stillness to pick out any muffled betrayal of a malificar’s location. They would send demons; they would send her . Eying his sword, he contemplated how it would look if it were finally driven through that witch once and for all. His ragged cackle was short but fueling. Yet, unwise. Silence. Silence was key.
He eyed the candles on his walls and wondered, idly, when he had extinguished them. Why had he been standing here in the dark, and how long for? It was of little matter - there would be no light now, not once they arrived, but this time, he would take them down with him. This time, all would join him in the dark, and then they would see what manner of prey they were hunting -
A knocking sound shook the room: coming from the doors, the ceiling, the floors, he couldn’t be sure. It had begun. It must be the sound of fires detonating. No - of the doors being sealed. They were locked in again. They were all locked in. Why were they being locked in?!
Out on the ramparts, the Inquisition scout knocked again. “Commander?” She waited, message in hand. From within, a sound that she had only heard on the battlefield replied her: the cry was part roar, part true panic - an accusation that became a question until returning to a blind, desperate warning. It forced itself through Cullen, up from deep within him, bypassing thought. It felt as though every part of him was trying to bypass thought.
The scout started in terror and reached for her blade, making to charge ahead, when a voice stopped her. “Don’t.” Her senior, his face grave yet knowing: she turned, horrified by the order as much as the sounds within the office, but she trusted him.
“James - what -”
From within his office, the Circle, wherever he was, Cullen listened to the malificars conspiring outside. Their voices were muffled, their meaning unclear, but he listened nonetheless. He would be ready .
“Don’t,” Jim warned. “Fetch the Seeker. No - the Inquisitor.”
Cullen’s head was spinning, or pressing inwards - he couldn’t be sure. Something in his mind was plucking insistently at his consciousness, relentless yet left ignored until he had the clarity to address it. He waited, braced. They knew where he was, now - there would only be one way out.
