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adella trevelyan

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She wakes up often in the middle of the night, now. Sometimes it's phantom pain from the arm she no longer has, other times it's nightmares. Promises of things that Solas wanted to come to pass. Tonight it was a delightful mix of both.

Trying to slip out of the room without waking Cullen can be a challenge, but if she can make it out of bed before he wakes up she just hopes if he notices her gone he just assumes she's run to the water closet. Where she actually goes is outside, down into the training yard, which is entirely abandoned at night. Magic is taught much of the time as a two-handed endeavor. While she can call and fold the Fade around her at will as easily as ever, the motions are a different thing entirely. Wielding a staff is now an awkward thing, because while she does hold it at rest in her right hand, most movements require use of her left hand.

It's already a cool night as most of the nights at Skyhold are, but it's made all the cooler by Adella throwing frozen blasts at the training dummies, attempting to direct them more with her mind than with the motion of her absent left hand.

Anyone looking for her will likely be easily guided of course, by the frustrated cursing as each blast doesn't even come close to its mark.

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Cullen has always been a light sleeper, so while she may have managed to get out of bed without waking him, it doesn't take too long for the lack of her warmth next to him to rouse him - and, yes, his first thought is worry. Such worry, even now, with the world mostly at peace. Adella is still troubled, he knows her well enough to know that, and certainly missing her arm is a big change they all have to get used to.

So he slides out of bed, pulling on trousers, shirt and boots, and goes in search of his wife. Even in Skyhold, it's not difficult to find her - she's making enough noise in the training yard to draw him near, and he leans against a fence post to watch her for a few moments.

"No one expects you to be completely adjusted to it overnight," he points out after a while.

She lets another spell fly before she slams her staff down, blade digging into the dirt and holding it there. Despite the chill she's breathing hard, nearly panting. It's been a while since she pushed herself so hard.

"It hasn't been overnight," she replies after a long moment of silence. She doesn't look at him, but she turns her head in his direction. "I should have realized this would happen. One way or another." The anchor hadn't just suddenly torn her hand asunder, although it had gotten very bad very quickly. Thinking back though, she should have known that it was still gradually killing her, even after the Breach had been sealed.

"And you're already better than you were when you started," Cullen points out logically, wanting to reach for her, hold her, but knowing sometimes that's not what she wants. Especially lately.

It worries him that she's taking this loss as a personal failing.

"What happened, happened," he points out. "You can't change the past, and what matters is that you're here, now, alive."

"It would have been better if Solas had let me die," she states, somewhat bluntly. She'd thought it often, but she'd managed to keep from saying it aloud. At least til now, when her frustration and helplessness are getting the best of her. "He should have let me die."

"What." Her words are like a slap to his face, and Cullen nearly reels backwards at them. "Adella... You can't honestly think that." Has her life been so utterly destroyed that she thinks she'd be better off dead? He steps toward her, reaching out, wanting to hold her and make it better.

He knows he can't, though. He can't give her her arm back. No one can.

"You can't possibly think that," he murmurs again, drawing her into his arms.

It isn't entirely her life she's concerned with, which is why when Cullen pulls her into his arms it almost makes it worse. All she wants is to lean against him and forget how useless she's become. Instead she withdraws, allowing him to hold her, but trying to keep to herself in the gesture, her right hand letting go of her staff to wrap around the bicep of her mangled arm.

"I feel like I'm wasted space. I swore I'd prove Solas wrong, but what can I do? I can't even sign my bloody name on a piece of parchment!" She closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. "If I were gone, someone capable could set out against him. And you wouldn't be trapped with me, like this."

Maker, his heart aches at her words. Does she really think she no longer has any value? To him?

"You are capable," he murmurs, frowning deeply and pulling back a little to look at her. "And I'm not trapped. I have exactly the life I want. With you. Losing your arm hasn't changed that. You're still you - the woman I love, and my wife. We'll adapt, and adjust. And we'll find others to fight Solas, if we need to."

She can't help but find a measure of comfort in Cullen's words, though there was also guilt. She's been frustrated and focused everywhere but on them, and while she'd given him fleeting moments there hadn't been much beyond that. She lets out a sigh, finally looking at him, meeting his eyes.

"I don't deserve you. I haven't behaved anything like a wife since we said our vows, and you've been perfect." Like he usually was.

"Adella." Gently, he cups her face in his hand so he can look at her properly. "I'm not sure I know what a wife is supposed to behave like, but I think you're doing fine, all things considered."

He'd been hoping they might be able to rest, take a break, maybe visit his family. But she has a lot to deal with, still. He can wait a little longer.

She visibly deflates a little at his touch, finally shaken far enough out of the spiral of loathing and frustration that followed her dreams, lately. She lifts her hand to rest over his.

"I was going to do so many wonderful things for you. I didn't even get to plan a honeymoon. On our wedding night I was having my arm cut off..." She grimaced, breaking eye contact with him. She knew it was petty, had never been a woman to be so entirely vain about her appearance, but she'd hated the way she had looked since. Especially naked. It was like her entire body was off balance. "And since then, I may as well have been ignoring you. Despite everything you've done for me."

"Who says we can't still have a honeymoon?" Cullen asks, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "When you're ready. It's a big adjustment. I'll wait as long as you need me to."

He knows she needs time to work things out. She's his wife, for pity's sake, what kind of husband would he be if he wasn't there to help support her?

"Maker knows you've been endlessly patient with me," he adds.

Adella's heart aches every time Cullen is understanding and supportive. Even after over two years, she's still not quite used to having someone who loves her like he does.

She watches him kiss her hand with furrowed brows, exhaling through her nose.

"I just don't know if I'll ever be... myself again. I can barely stand looking at myself in the mirror, I don't know how you've been doing it."

Cullen sighs, and shakes his head briefly. "You've always been yourself, love. You've just been having a tough time of things, lately. It's perfectly understandable, but you haven't changed, and you're not repulsive."

"I'm lop-sided!" She huffs, a little baffled he doesn't see it. "Did you ever notice that my left breast is slightly smaller than my right one, or that I tend to lean on my left leg when I'm standing still?" She knows on some level she's being ridiculous, that if he does notice he would never be the person to let it bother him.

"You never really realize how important something like an arm could be until it isn't there. It just makes everything else look so much worse."

Cullen wraps his arms around her middle, turning his head to kiss her temple. "What do you expect me to say? Of course no one is perfect, but you know I love your body. Your missing arm doesn't change that. I still want you. It'll take time, to figure out what you can and can't do now, and I'll be with you every step of the way."

She's starting to realize she's being somewhat irrational. Letting out a breath she leans against his chest, her head falling forward to rest on his shoulder.

"I just want to move past this. But every time I try, I end up here. Can't even direct a spell I mastered at thirteen anymore."

"You will," Cullen says. "I'm just sorry I can't be more help. You know I'll do anything I can for you."

Now the guilt sets in a little more. She knows how he feels, because she's been on the other end of it. Whenever he has a bad day, whenever she speaks with a mage who claims to be an expert on lyrium abuse and just comes up with information she already had. She buries her face against his shoulder, her arm shifting to slide around his waist.

"You help," she murmurs. "I don't want to ask any more of you."

"You're not," he assures her. "You're my wife. We're partners - in everything. We help each other. Just like you help me, when I have a bad day. I'm here for you. I'm not going anywhere."

She exhales, turning her face to the side and glancing up at him, her fingers tightening behind his back.

"I miss you. I know I've been..." she trails off, her gaze hovering somewhere around his jawbone. She's pretty sure she doesn't need to finish that sentence. "I want to go back to how we were before I lost my arm. I just don't know how."

He kisses her cheek gently. "I get the impression you think you've changed more than you actually have. Aside from your arm, what's different? You still have all the other things you had before. What do you want to do?"

"It's... a lot of impulses. I want to hold your face with my hand and kiss you." She lifts her head up, shifting with a slight frown, propping her left bicep up on his shoulder, before sliding her right arm back and touching his cheek lightly.

"Extra steps I wouldn't have had to take, before. It's mostly in my mind, I know that."

He nods. "You don't have to be ashamed of it, not with me. I'm sure I'll make mistakes now and again, too. We'll make some changes, and eventually, it'll be just as normal as it was before."

He leans in for that kiss. "I'd give it back to you, if I could," he murmurs. "I'd've done just about anything to spare you this. But there wasn't anything I could do."

"It's not even close to your fault," Adella replies, kissing him again, harder than before. She hasn't been unaffectionate lately, but her affection has been a little unintentionally distant. "I'm sorry I've been taking my own frustration out on you."

Cullen understands - she needs time to adjust. He would never push her into something she's not ready for. She's been through a lot.

But her kisses make him ache for her. They didn't even get a proper wedding night, and it hasn't been much better since. He wasn't kidding when he said he still wants her. As much as ever. As far as his body is concerned, it could care less about her missing arm.

"You haven't," he assures her. "You've been taking it out on the poor training dummies." His lips twitch into a smile. "Now, more than ever, I think it's time I get to worry about you, rather than the other way 'round, hm?"

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