Take Care of Him

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11 Bloomingtide, 9:42

Antonia woke calling Cullen's name. Dorian, who had been dozing in a chair next to her bed, sat up when she spoke. "What did you say?"

"I was—never mind." It all came flooding back now, their argument and that horrible cold politeness on his face and in his eyes. He had never treated her like that, not even the day they met. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Just over a day." He grinned as her jaw dropped. "Never fear, I haven't been here the whole time."

It was ridiculous the way her heart leaped, hoping that maybe Cullen had come in to sit with her, but Dorian went on.

"Varric was in, Josephine, the Iron Bull, Cole, Sera, Vivienne. Blackwall said he was no good at sickbeds, but he sent up some fruit, and Leliana offered to come sing a healing song when you're feeling better."

"Nice of her." Antonia didn't know what a healing song was, but if it came along with a hot cup of tea and maybe half a cow, roasted, she'd take it. "Food."

"Yes, Your Worship." Dorian lifted a tray onto her lap. "I take it you're feeling better."

"Yes, much. That was a big dragon."

"Whatever possessed you to try to kill a dragon?"

She winced. She had done it because the dragon needed killing, she told herself, but mostly to spite Cullen and show him that her style of fighting could take down Thedas's biggest beasts. Instead, she'd shown herself. Antonia laughed a little.

Dorian was watching her with a knowing look on his face.

"The Iron Bull told you what I told him, didn't he? About my argument with Cullen."

He nodded.

"And you have an opinion."

"Me? No."

It was a lie, but it was a kind lie, so she let it go. And found she couldn't not ask. "H-has Cullen—"

"No. Not since you first came in." Dorian frowned. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen much of him otherwise, either. Or anything at all, really. I understand he's barely come out of his office since the two of you had your ... spat."

"And the whole keep knows about that?"

"That all has gone from sweetness and light to the icy cold of an avalanche? You could say people have noticed." He shrugged. "You have to remember that this is a very small village, and the two of you are among the most important people in that village. What you do, what you say, how you look—it all affects the rest of Skyhold, and by extension, the rest of the Inquisition."

"No." Antonia shook her head in denial. She pushed the tray aside and got out from under the covers, crossing the room to stand at the balcony doors, pushing them open. "No. You can't lay that on me, too. I already carry all of you, with this stupid mark on my hand, and the rest of Thedas. I have a thousand-year-old darkspawn who wants to kill me because one time I opened the wrong door. It all hinges on me fighting, and impressing the nobility, and winning the affection of the people, and maintaining the Inquisition's power. Now I have to maintain a healthy love life to make people happy, too?" There were tears rolling down her cheeks. "That's too much, Dorian. Too much."

He came up behind her. "My dear. I meant only to say that we all care about both of you very much, and to see you both so obviously unhappy makes the rest of us wish we could do something to change the situation."

She turned around and threw her arms around him, letting the tears take her. Dorian held her close while she wept, and she was grateful for his unwavering friendship.

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