Breaking the Divide - Cullen X Reader

5

Bodies were burning.

Cullen ground his teeth, trying to ignore the stench as he held one of the Chantry sisters tight against his chest, his shield held above both their heads. Flames licked around the edge of the metal, threatening to consume them. Gripping the woman closer, Cullen used his body to block the bulk of the heat. He grimaced at the acrid scent of burning fur.

The dragon pulled away, sweeping back towards the front. Cullen took off with the sister at a run, half-carrying her towards the Chantry. A child was crying; men moaned under healers' hands as they tended to scorched limbs. Turning back to the battle, Cullen's eyes swept over the chaos. So many people had been reduced to ash, blades half-melted against the snow. Damn them. Why hadn't they listened when he'd told them to pull back?!

Shaking off the guilt for later, Cullen ordered two guards to do a final sweep of Haven before he charged towards the main gates. A behemoth stood beside one of the trebuchets, its clawed arm raised above its head. Near a half dozen men clustered around it armed with bows and swords. Dorian and Varric stood on a pillar of ice above the fray, arrows and bolts of fire raining down on the madness below. Blades and crystalized arms hacked at the pillar but did little more than chip the ice. Y/N stood at the center of the chaos, her staff blade buried in the snow as ice crept up the behemoth's legs, freezing it into place. A shield bashed the frozen creature, snapping it apart into chunks with a sickening crack.

A sword raised behind Y/N's back.

Cullen ran.

The metal fizzled against Y/N's dying barrier. She turned. Cassandra was running as well. Dorian had redirected his flame towards the attacking templar.

Cullen reached him first. Heaving the attacker against the ice pillar, Cullen ran the man through, burying his sword up to the hilt in the templar's chest. The face was cracked and glowing red. It sang to him like the red lyrium at the Temple of Sacred Ashes had, calling to him, begging him to take a taste.

Cullen ripped out his sword and let the man fall. He turned, shield at the ready, but the rest had already been punctured or singed beyond recognition.

"We seem to be clear for the moment," Cullen said. "Everyone's regrouping at the Chantry: we may not get another chance to catch our breath like this again." He caught Cassandra's eye and she gave him a grim nod. They were dead, but... at least this way, some of the people might die in hope.

"Right behind you," Y/N said as she brought down her tower of ice. Blood continued to trickle down her cheek, mixing with the sweat on her skin.

Cullen waited until the others passed before joining her side on their return to the Chantry. Her eyes were glazed, chest heaving, skin flushed. She wouldn't last much longer in a fight. None of them would. Even Cassandra lacked the usual conviction in her step.

"Do you think...?" Y/N started to ask as they neared the Chantry. "Um—that is... what if we put the Mother Giselle and the children down in basement where the cells are. There were a couple rooms down there too. It's possible that once the main building is burned, the templars won't press further. Or is that ridiculous? I was hoping that since the rest is stone, it might not..." She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I wish I'd studied fire more."

He smiled. She could've run. There were so many times when she could've walked away from the Inquisition and its cause. And now she was going to die for it. "It's a good plan. It gives them a chance they might not have otherwise.

"Herald, I—" He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how he could put it into words. Thank you seemed cold and inefficient. "Promise me you won't give up. No matter what Samson throws at us. Promise me that you'll keep going."