thecapitol | here lies the abyss; open;

Entry tags:

here lies the abyss; open;

Who| Cullen and YOU
What| After a truly horrific death in the arena, Cullen wakes up back in the Capitol. Time to regain his bearings and find his allies again!
Where| Around~ (Let me know if you want a specific prompt and I'll write one up!)
When| After his death, probably Wednesday or Thursday
Warnings/Notes| Descriptions of nasty psychological torture probably.

[District 2 suite]

He wakes with a start, ready for battle. That had been the last thing he remembers doing, after all. A monster, or demon, some sort of creature that had taken Adella's likeness and twisted it into something corrupted and horrific had appeared. His rage and grief had overcome him at the sight of the terrible thing, like his worst fear made diseased flesh, and he'd attacked, as unprepared for it as he was.

The thing had ripped into him viciously, and he remembers nothing more until - this.

The room is white and pristine and too, too bright, and he's groping for a sword that isn't there for a few moments until he recalls where he must be. The Capitol. One dies in the arena, and wakes up in the Capitol. Or so he's been told.

That brings him to his senses. He needs to find the others, if they're here as promised. He needs to find Adella. Maker, if she's here, if she's alive, he'll build a shrine to Andraste with his own two hands.

With a determined set to his mouth, his jaw, strides through the district suite, towards the elevator. He does remember how these work, thanks to Ser Sam Wilson's guidance, all those weeks ago.

[Tribute Tower common area]

He very quickly realizes that he has no real idea where to find many of his companions and allies. Many of them arrived in the arena itself, and so he doesn't know which district they are assigned to, and even if he did, the chances of finding them in their respective suites he thinks are low. Eventually, he makes his way to the main common area on the ground floor. It sees a lot of traffic, it's a natural place to congregate and wait for one's companions. He hopes.

And he tries to avoid looking at the brightly flashing screens everywhere. Maker, does he try.

[The roof]

As evening settles over the city, Cullen finds his way to the quiet and (relative) darkness of the rooftop garden. Even this place is utterly alien to him in a lot of ways, but it's slightly easier to stomach than most of the rest of the building or the city beyond. There is so much light from the city that it's almost impossible to get a good look at the stars, something which Cullen finds baffling, but he attempts it anyway, taking deep, calming breaths as he turns his face up.

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She mirrors his motions, gripping his face with her own hands, giving him a watery smile. It hasn't been easy, watching, waiting. She had hoped, when he survived as long as he did, that he might make it to the end. That she wouldn't have to watch him die, in a way so much worse than the way she had died. She'd had him then, at least. He'd had no one.

Smile breaking she leans in, pressing her forehead against his and squeezing her eyes shut briefly, her fingers sliding to lock behind his head, holding him close.

"I've been so worried about you."

Under just about any other circumstances, Cullen would hate to be embracing so intimately in an area where other people can walk through and see. Exposing his private emotions in public is something he's spent a long time training himself not to do.

But right now, he doesn't care. As far as he's concerned, right now she's the only other person in the world, and he's not letting go of her for anything.

"All that matters is, you're safe," he murmurs. More and more lately, that's the most important thing to him. Knowing that she's alright. He doesn't want to talk about what happened in the arena - as far as he's concerned there's nothing to talk about, since it's over and they're both here, alive.

She'd argue that point, there's so much more that matters, his safety just as important, but it seems relatively insignificant right now. She just smiles, letting out a huff of air that's almost like a laugh, opening her eyes to focus on him.

"I missed you. I'm glad you're here, now." As much as she dislikes this place, dislikes it all the more because they used her against him, she can't help but feel happy that he's with her again. She's still not sure what they're trying to accomplish with the Districts and pitting people from different worlds against each other, but if drama for the sake of it were a side-effect, they'd certainly had it with them.

She might argue, but right here and now there is nothing else for him. Just her. If he has her with him, alive and safe, he can do anything. His arms slide around her tighter, and he presses a kiss to her temple, gentle and earnest.

"I missed you, too," he murmurs, and not in the way he misses her whenever she leaves Skyhold on Inquisition business. That is a gentle ache, with occasional pangs of anxiety. This was something else. A deep, gnawing chasm of pain and grief that he wasn't sure he'd ever overcome. That she's here now is nothing short of a miracle.

"I love you," he says, because the last time he said it she'd been dying and now she's alive, and he wants her to hear it again.

"I love you, too," she replies, lifting her head so she can press a kiss to his cheek, one hand sliding gradually free of the other at the back of his neck to stroke the side of his face. She never wants to be apart from him again, it was agony to think that he might be gone, even briefly.

"I'm proud of you. For not giving up."

He'd considered it. When he thought she was dead, it would've been so, so easy to just lie down and wait for his turn. Even now, he's not sure if he didn't do that because he was strong, or because he had the hope of seeing her again in the Capitol.

He doesn't say that aloud, though, just tightens his grip on her and sighs. "I never want to disappoint you," is what he says.

"You couldn't disappoint me." She knows what would have been easier, and were their roles reversed, she's not sure she wouldn't linger on the mortality of it all. If he had, she wouldn't have held it against him. But she knows how strong he is, how much he's survived. She thought if there were a chance for him to be free of the Arena, even in the scope that they seemed to allow for here, that he should fight for it.

"You got my message? I didn't want you to worry."

"I got it," he affirms, taking a breath, taking in her presence, her scent. "It helped." And it had, though he'd tried not to let his hopes get up too high. "Did you... watch?" His brows come together in a slight frown as he studies her face. He knows practically every moment gets shown on the screens all over. He's not sure he likes the idea of her sitting here for weeks, watching his hardships.

She draws away a little at the question, her eyes not quite meeting his. It had felt wrong at times, to watch things when she had been removed from the situation, but at the same time, she had worried for her friends. After a long beat her eyes flicked up to his, and she nodded her head, pressing her lips together.

"I did. I didn't see every second, of course, and sometimes I just..." She couldn't keep watching. She sighs, stroking her thumb along his cheekbone. "It wasn't easy to watch."

"I have no doubt," he says quietly. "I never want you to have to see such things, but I'm not sure I wouldn't have done the same in your position."

The need to know might easily outweigh the futility of it.

"But it's over now, and we're here," he finishes, tracing her jaw lightly.

Leaning into his touch she sighs, her hand sliding down to rest on his neck as her eyes drift away from his again.

"For what it counts," she's had enough time in the Capitol now that her opinion of it is formed, and overwhelmingly negative. There's some fascinating things, but the people made her sick. They made her miss Orlesians.

"I don't know," he murmurs. "Between us? All of us here? We seem capable of a lot. Perhaps it counts for quite a lot." Mostly he's trying to reassure her as best he can - there's hope and there's hope, after all, and it's good to have some, if you can.

"Maybe," she replies, a slight smile touching her lips. She knows it's so much more complicated and they might not really make much of a difference. But she has him, and the others, at least.

"Having you back is enough for now."

Something in her words makes him glance around, remember where they are, and his neck goes a little red at the realization.

"You've - been alright, at least, I hope? I mean, you've had no trouble since your arrival?" he asks quietly.

"No trouble beyond trying to make sense of all the..." she frowns, waving a hand in a gesture that she hopes articulates what she's still having trouble grasping. She's been surprised that most people are pleasant enough, with the obvious exceptions.

"I've met a few rude people but mostly I haven't been bothered."

"The strange machinery and flashing lights?" he finishes for her, nodding in understanding.

"I'm glad, at least, that no one's been bothering you." He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, gently. "Perhaps we should find somewhere... more private, to continue this conversation?"

She nods a little gratefully when he understands her. He'd been the first to try to explain it all to her, of course. Though it's easier to picture it now that she's actually seen it. At his question she does let out a small laugh, her head tilting to his touch.

"Do you have somewhere in mind?" As far as she can tell, privacy is fiction, here.

Cullen would find it difficult to believe in the idea of being watched, unseen, at all times, except for all the other impossible things that had happened lately. Still, though. There are better places than this.

"My room," he offers. "At least no one is liable to come walking through at any time, there."

"I would hope not," she replies somewhat wryly, before leaning away a little. Her hands finally leave his neck and face, though one just moves to clasp his. She isn't ready to be apart from him.

"Lead the way?"

He is just as reluctant to stop touching her - another good argument for his room, frankly. There, he can hold her as close as he likes. If someone spies on them via some magical device, well, that can't be helped.

But he needs to hold her, so he leads the way.

She follows without further comment, not sparing a glance for any other tenants of the District 2 suites. As soon as the door to Cullen's room is closed behind them and they're alone she turns back to him, her hands framing his face as she pulls him to her level and kisses him. It isn't a kiss of unbridled passion so much as one of desperation and relief. Watching him fall and being so removed from the situation but still experiencing it, had effected her deeply.

The kiss is just as desperate on Cullen's end - he now knows what it feels like to lose her, and he didn't like it, one bit. Frankly, they had been some of the worst days of his life, and he'd give just about anything not to ever have to do that again - as much as he knows he probably will, many times, before this whole ordeal is over.

"Stay with me," he hears himself murmur when they finally have to break apart for air, his fingers tangling in her hair.

She lets out a breathless laugh, her hands still pressed firmly against his cheeks as she leans her forehead against his.

"They'd need armed guards to drag me away from you." She may be relatively slight of figure when it boiled down to it, but she'd die again before letting anything keep them apart. He'd become far too important to her for her to let him slip through her fingers.

They do, in fact, have armed guards aplenty here. But he suspects they won't be separated by force. Not right now, at least. His arms pull her tight against him, nonetheless.

"Have you seen the others?" he asks quietly. "Are they alright?"

Letting her hands go slack she curls up against him as he pulls her close, leaning her head against his chest and closing her eyes. She can almost feel a measure of peace as she hears his heartbeat where she's leaned her head, steady and strong in his chest.

"Most of them," she responds after a moment, one hand sliding to rest on his bicep, a small gesture to keep her grip on him. "Josephine is gone, as is the Lavellan woman you mentioned. Back to Thedas, I hope."

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