Death of her Commander

She knew the attack had been split. The sheer number was wrong. It didn’t match the predictions. Something was going to happen somewhere else. And, knowing –Him- the Dark spawn would hurt her any way he could. Gathering the smallest party she could, the Inquisitor turned, racing back to Skyhold. She had to warn them. She had to do something. She couldn’t just let them die. Leliana… Josephine… Dagna… Maker, Cullen! She had to get there first! Not just those she cared for, but the entirety of Skyhold was depending on her. All the treaties she’d forged, the friends she’d made. They were all in danger. Maker, what would happen if she didn’t make it in time… what would be lost…?

She called for her horse, riding the poor beast till it nearly dropped, just to get ahead of Corypheus. As the keep loomed closer and the smoke-black smoke- became visible, she knew she’d been beaten. He’d gotten here first. Damn him! She tore through the courtyard, shouting out, calling to anyone who’d survived the attack. Anyone that was still alive. She’d find someone, she had to. A cough to one side caught her attention, followed by a hoarse pained groan. That voice. She’d recognize it anywhere. Cullen. Maker, no; please, let him be alright. Just coughing because of the smoke, right?

Sliding off her horse as it was still moving, she sprinted toward the sound, calling out to him. Begging him to tell her where he was. She reached him, finding his lions mane armor first; in among the rubble. A tower had fallen near him, the debris obscuring just how injured he was. His voice was hoarse when she started moving the stones, trying to free him.

“C-Corinne..” A low, wet, cough sounded as blood misted onto his lips.

“You made it…” Cole appeared at her shoulder, his voice low, urgent. “Pain... Fear… He’s afraid of death. Does not believe he will make it to the Maker’s side. Does not want to go there without you.”

She waved the spirit away, unwilling to hear him, when Cullen was right here! He’ll be fine. She told him so.

“You’ll be fine, Cullen. It’s not that bad.” Another wet cough, more blood on his lips. She had to get that rock off him, needed help moving it.

“Cole! Help me get him out of there. I can’t move these rocks on my own.” The movement of the rocks, though, made it worse. As they moved, she could see just how much damage there was. Just how futile it was. He was dying. Her Commander. Her Cullen. He would make it to the Maker’s side before her. He reached for her, his eyes clouded with pain, briefly before his coughing got worse. He hissed in pain as she shifted him into her arms. Her tears, that she did not even realize she was crying, cleared paths on his cheeks. Stripes of pale flesh through the dirt and blood. Pressing his head into her neck she held him; listening as his breathing became more labored, how the straining of his damaged lungs slowed the blood loss doing the job Corypheus failed to do.

His last breath was a sigh, “I love you, Corinne.” He spoke, breathed, lived, no more. Her Lion was gone.

Cole spoke, quiet, as if he finally understood. "He is at peace, the lion will roar at the Maker's side."