Chapter Text
The sputtering flames on the stubs of the candles barely cast any light, but it was enough to see her in his bed. She was on her side, back toward him, blanket pushed down to her hips. Even in the low light, the gooseflesh was clear on her pale skin. She always complained of the cold, yet she always ended up like this.
Chuckling, he knelt on the bed and reached out to her. He rubbed her arm and she moaned softly. With a smile, he pressed a kiss to the curve of her shoulder. Her skin felt wet beneath his lips. Was she sweating? He frowned, sitting up.
Her skin was ashy. Greenish in places. Putrid. Sloughing off her muscles. Blood pooled and soaked into the sheets. She rolled over, the movement making her flesh fold, bunch, and tear. She opened her mouth to speak and her jaw broke, hanging unnaturally as black drool dribbled out. Her eyes were missing, red, withered caverns in their place. Clumps of hair slid from her scalp.
He back away, aghast, stumbling into the candle stand and knocking it over. The flames stuttered as the candles rolled into the timbers on the floor. Almost immediately fire blazed around him, climbing the greenery on the walls. Heat licked at his back, searing his skin. He screamed, burning, the ghoul crawling toward him, grasping for him, pulling at him. He begged for help, and none came.
Cullen awoke with a start, breathing hard and sweating. The sheets were damp, clinging to his bare skin. His heart raced. He struggled to swallow and bring moisture to his dry mouth. Sighing out a curse, he flung his arm across his face and took a deep breath.
“Here’s some water,” a blessedly soothing voice said from the side of the bed.
Lowering his arm, he opened his eyes and looked over at Uava. And flinched.
“Are you alright?” Setting the cup on the bedside table, she tried scooting closer to comfort him—something she did whenever he had a nightmare.
Cullen held up a hand, warning her off. “I am…I just need a moment.”
“Of course.”
Trying to get his breathing back under control, Cullen stared up at the high ceiling, only now realizing he was in Uava’s chambers instead of his own. Closing his eyes again, he furrowed his brows and reached out for the woman. She took his hand immediately.
He should be used to nightmares. He had thousands. Uava being tortured, being killed by his hand, turning into that thing…Sometimes they were so awful he couldn’t even look at her upon waking. He felt guilty for not saving her. And more so for pushing her away when she only wanted to help.
“I’m sorry, Ava,” he finally said, head lolling to the side on the pillow so he could look at her. He squeezed her hand and met her gaze. Maker, her eyes were beautiful.
Uava shook her head, frowning. “Don’t apologize for nightmares, Cullen. I wish I could do more to help when you have them though. Was this one particularly bad? You were screaming…” Still holding his hand, she reached out with her free hand to stroke his sweat-damp hair.
With a sigh, Cullen sat up and shook his head. “Just different,” he said, afraid to tell her. Afraid to put the atrocities of his mind into words. Afraid of her dismissing his worries.
Uava shifted on the bed next to him, folding one leg beneath her body. She gently gathered Cullen into her arms, pulling his head against her chest. “You’re still shaking.”
Cullen was thankful she understood that her presence was more than enough to calm him. She didn’t press him for details, and didn’t hush him, or tell him everything was all right. With a sigh, he indulged in her embrace and her warmth.
“Better?” she eventually asked, stroking his hair again.
He inhaled deeply, the scent of citrus and leather filling his nose. When he exhaled, he nodded. “Embarrassed, but better.”
“Embarrassed?” Uava asked, arching a brow. She released him and retrieved the water from the table.
Cullen drained the cup and chose not to answer. He would rather not misspeak and upset her. “The bed is going to need to be stripped and changed,” he said, pushing back the blanket. Even if felt damp.
Uava smirked, moving so Cullen could get up. “The bedding needed to be changed well before you had your nightmare.”
Remembering the previous night, the corner of Cullen’s mouth tilted, mimicking Uava’s smirk. He tugged at her braided hair as he headed to her dressing room. She chuckled behind him.
Closing the door on the repurposed storage closet, Cullen’s expression fell, and he sighed. His entire body felt clammy and the lingering unpleasantness from his nightmare still fogged his mind.
Raking his fingers through his messy hair, his eyes landed on Uava’s cedar soaking tub. While it was currently empty, tilted on its side to fit better in the narrow space, it was a nice luxury to have. Uava had Josephine pull some strings to acquire the thing, and he was glad she did. Last week, he had been treated to a soak in it and realized the benefits of having one. He would very much like to sit in it with Uava this morning, but instead, he had tepid water in a pitcher, and a rag to wipe himself with. So, he filled the washbasin and cleaned himself of the dried sweat.
As he patted his face dry with a hand towel, he saw his clothes folded on top of a crate. Uava had been busy while he slept, it seemed.
“Your armour is still on the wardrobe,” Uava told him when he came back into the main room. She looked up from her desk and her eyebrows shot up. Biting her lip, she choked back a laugh.
“What?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as he rounded the bed.
“Oh, Cullen. You cannot go down to breakfast like that. Your hair is a disaster!”
Picking up his boots, Cullen combed his fingers through his hair. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked, sitting on the bed to tug on his footwear.
“Did you not look in the mirror?” she asked, her expression softening as she approached him. Her full lips curved in an affectionate smile. “Your curls are escaping. I think it's cute, but I know you don’t care for them.”
The man wrinkled up his nose.
Uava snickered. “Wait here,” she told him, hurrying around the foot of the bed.
Cullen shook his head as she disappeared into her dressing room. He couldn’t help but smile. She had always been tender and sweet with him, but since their rendezvous last week, she had been…different. Hours of drinking and conversation, a night that melted into a morning, and a day, and she was happier. More comfortable with herself. He had already shown her his most vulnerable sides, and he trusted her with that. He was glad she felt the same.
“Alright, let’s get that mop fixed,” Uava said, joining him once more. She put her soft-bristled hairbrush on the bed next to Cullen and opened a small, circular container in her hand. She took a dab of the clear substance on her fingers, set the pot down, and rubbed her hands together.
Cullen picked up the ceramic pot and sniffed the contents. This was nothing like what he usually used in his hair, and it smelled slightly sweet. Like ripe fruit. It was a very Uava scent.
“You’re going to smell like me, but your hair won’t be sticking up all over the place,” she said, combing her fingers into his hair, working the substance into the locks.
Cullen wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her between his knees, snug against the edge of the mattress. She hadn’t fastened her coat yet, and the laces of her tunic were loose. He buried his face into her cleavage and inhaled. The rush of air tickled her skin and she gasped out a surprised laugh.
“Cullen!” she scolded, though there was a grin on her face.
He grinned back. “It’s a good thing I enjoy the way you smell.”
Shaking her head, she picked up her brush. “You are absolutely rotten,” she told him as she styled his hair.
“I’m in good company, then.” He looked up at her with an arched brow and sly smirk.
“I’ll have you know I used to be very well behaved,” she told him with feigned haughtiness.
Cullen hummed. “Yes, Pavus is a terrible influence.”
Uava giggled. “Don’t you blame him for things you’ve done with your own two hands, Commander.”
A flash of purple caught Cullen’s eye before he could respond. The necklace he had gifted Uava last week was peeking through the open collar of her tunic. He kissed the warm purple stone caged in silverite. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.” Putting the brush aside, she stroked his stubbly jaw and cheeks. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I am,” he replied, and meant it. Though he worried about his horrendous dreams, having her in his arms assuaged his anxieties. She was safe with him right now, and that was the most he could ask.
“Cullen…?”
“Hm?”
“You know I would be more than happy to spend an entire day in your arms, but I’d like to get breakfast before Bull eats it all.”
“Now that you mention it, I am famished,” Cullen said with a smirk as he released her. Getting to his feet, he pulled his chest plate off the top of the wardrobe. “I seem to use much more energy when you’re around.”
Rolling her eyes, Uava tightened the laces of her tunic with a half-smile on her face.
Cullen gave her a wink before turning his attention to his armour. As the pair finished getting ready for the day, Cullen’s dream was almost forgotten.