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Margo knew without a doubt when she woke up that morning that the pain would be excruciating by mid-afternoon. The tell-tale tug at the back of her head warned her of an oncoming headache. She flopped onto her back and groaned, letting herself sink into the sheets of her large bed. The fire in her quarters crackled quietly and the sun shone through the large balcony doors. She smacked a hand over her eyes at the way the snow amplified the brightness. She wanted to just roll over and go back to sleep; maybe an extra hour would fight off the migraine she knew was coming. But, if the sun’s position in the sky was anything to judge by, someone would be knocking on her door for the morning meeting soon. She let out a huff of breath and heaved herself out of bed, praying to the Maker that it wouldn’t be as bad as she thought. Slowly, but surely, she began to get dressed and wash up.
She’d always gotten the occasional migraine. She was never sure why; it always just showed up once every few months. It would start off as smaller headaches a couple days before that would never last too long. The first day, it would be a minor ache that only lasted about an hour or so. The second day would be considerably worse, lasting longer, but still bearable. By the third, it would be similar to a tight band squeezing her head with a pinpoint of pain in the very back of her head, right in the center. Her whole body would ache along with it and the nausea it caused would make eating anything too flavorful impossible. She could feel the familiar heaviness of her body and churning of her stomach, despite it’s growls for food.
She watched in a daze as servants nodded to her and set a breakfast tray on her desk. She waited until they left to nibble on some food, but the flavors she usually loved set her stomach churning. She gulped down her water and forced a meager piece of bread down. She gently massaged a knot on the back of her head as she shuffled down the stairs.
Cullen watched Margo shuffle into the war room for the second time today. They’d already held a meeting this morning, but more news from the Western Approach had arrived that needed to be discussed immediately. He frowned as she took her place across from him. If he thought she’d looked unwell this morning, she looked like death now. The Inquisitor was a pale woman anyway, but the usual rosy tint to her cheeks was gone and her eyes were glassy and unfocused. She hadn’t looked completely well the past two days, either. He tried to catch her eye from across the room, but she kept her eyes fixed on the map in front of them.
Leliana and Josephine droned on next to him, but he barely paid attention to a word. Margo’s condition only seemed to worsen as the sun sank lower in the sky. He watched as she swayed and gripped the table for what had to be the tenth time, blinking profusely. He scowled; how could the other two women just keep going like they weren’t even noticing anything?
Finally—finally—Margo met his gaze. Her large, ocean-colored eyes were hazy and unfocused. She struggled to keep them open as she leaned heavily on the table. He tilted his head towards the door in a silent question, but she seemed to stare straight through him. She looked exactly like he felt when his lyrium withdrawal was hitting him hard. His heart hammered in his chest. Was she not eating enough? Or was it problems sleeping? Or maybe she was even dehydrated—
She fell to the ground with a sudden thud, drawing a gasp from Josephine. Cullen rushed to her side, vaguely aware of the two women hovering over him. He ripped off a glove, his mind going a hundred directions at once, and felt her pulse. It felt normal under his fingers, but that did little to relieve him.
Before he could say anything, Leliana said, “Josie, go get a healer. I’ll distract the nobles in the hall if you can get her to her quarters, commander.”
Cullen swallowed thickly and nodded before hoisting her up into his arms. How long had she not been taking care of herself? She got cold so easily that it was hard to tell if she was too thin under all the layers she wore around Skyhold. She looked tired frequently, so that could also pose a problem. His mind went through all the possible problems and solutions as he carried her through Josephine’s empty office. One of Leliana’s scouts stood by the door and nodded to him, opening the door.
“All clear, ser,” he said quietly. “Sister Nightingale says to move quickly.”
Cullen nodded, glancing down at the limp woman in his arms. The nobles made a ring around Leliana and Varric on the other side of the hall. He could hear gasps and laughter as the guards opened the doors to Margo’s quarters and Cullen slipped inside unnoticed.
A familiar voice guided Margo back to consciousness. She could feel soft sheets beneath her body, wincing as the pain in the back of her head screamed its ugly welcome.
“…be all right?” Cullen’s voice said from nearby.
“I believe so,” one of the healers, Vara, said from her opposite side. “She has no signs of fever. We’ll have to wait until she wakes to get a better idea of what’s wrong.”
Footsteps, then Cullen’s voice again: “Tell Cook to make her a strew or soup or something that’s easy on her stomach, maybe some bread, too. And plenty of water, maybe some herbal tea…”
Margo could practically feel Vara rolling her eyes at Cullen’s fretting. She would’ve been blushing if she didn’t feel like her head was about to explode. She slowly opened her eyes, blinking away the blurriness until Vara came into focus.
“Inquisitor?” she asked softly.
“Margo!” Cullen rushed to her side, making the bed bounce as he sat. She winced at the movement and he frowned. “Maker, I’m so sorry—”
“Cullen,” she rasped, rubbing her head. “Loud.”
Quietly, so that the gravel in his voice came out, he muttered, “I’m sorry.” Despite her pain, she couldn’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach at how his voice had deepened.
“Inquisitor, can you tell us how you’re feeling?” Vara asked softly.
“…Head hurts,” she finally managed, moving to massage the back of her head.
“Does it hurt where you’re rubbing?”
“Yes.”
“Is that all that hurts? How long has it been hurting?”
Margo did her best to answer Vara’s questions through the pain that was slowly encompassing her entire skull. She could feel Cullen’s eyes on her as she told Vara about her frequent problems with migraines.
Vara motioned for her to sit up and she groaned. She slowly propped herself up on her elbows, pausing to rub at her forehead as the room spun.
“Just a little more, Inquisitor,” Vara intoned softly.
“I’ve got you,” Cullen murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his chest. Margo let her head fall onto his shoulder, his fur mantle cushioning her face. She would’ve felt embarrassed at her forwardness if she could see straight.
Vara’s hands felt along the back of her neck and shoulders. Margo glanced towards Cullen as he kept a secure arm around her shoulders, noting the flush that had creeped along his face and neck.
“Andraste—” the healer muttered before withdrawing her hands. “You’ve got knots everywhere, especially in the back of your neck. Probably what’s causing the majority of the headaches. I’ll go grab a salve that someone will need to rub on your back and neck that will help the knots come loose. You should do this for a week—and no hunching or strenuous activity. That will only make things worse…” She trailed off as she stood and thumped down the stairs. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move!”
There was no need for her to keep leaning against Cullen, but the way he absently rubbed her back felt divine. She quietly inhaled his scent before turning her face towards him. “Thank you…”
“Of course,” he replied, careful to keep his voice low. “You should really take better care of yourself, Inquisitor.”
“Look who’s talking,” she mumbled against his shoulder, closing her eyes.
He scoffed. “I mean it. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I wasn’t really planning on collapsing.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’ve always gotten these since I was small. They’ve never been bad enough to make me faint, so I just assumed it would hurt and then be over by tomorrow morning. Back in Ostwick, before the Circle, no one really seemed to care about it. I think they all just thought I was being dramatic minus Lucan. He went and got the healer sometimes, but the most they did was give me tea. It’s never been this bad before, but I wasn’t aware the knots were as bad as they were.”
“You’re hunching over reports too often.” Cullen shifted and she felt his stubble scrape against her cheek. “And probably not eating, drinking and sleeping enough. You need to be more careful.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Margo…” he sighed, but she could hear the smile in his voice.
She tilted her head to meet his gaze, noting his own dark circles. “If I have to start taking better care of myself, so do you.”
“Inquisitor, please, don’t worry about me—”
“That’s the deal.”
“Margo—”
She gave a wry smile through the throbbing in her head. “Going once…going twice…”
He chuckled, his warm breath fanning her face. “Fine.” He shook his head. “You’re impossible.”
The haze in her head clouded her judgement as she smiled blearily up at him. “You still love me though.”
His hand froze where it was rubbing smooth circles on her back. He stared at her with an odd expression, half surprise, half something she couldn’t identify.
She felt heat flood her face as she realized what she’d said. The commander was still staring at her oddly. “I mean, I wasn’t—I didn’t—well, not like that obviously…” She groaned and buried her face in his mantle. “I’m sorry, my brain’s not working right now…”
After a moment’s pause, he gave his quiet response, “It’s all right.”
She knew she should pull away, but his hand on her back and the warmth of his fur drew her to burrow further into his shoulder. She would probably be embarrassed about this tomorrow, but for now, she would allow herself this small luxury.