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sondepoch · 4 years

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HC: MC breaks a bone!

Demons can’t break bones. Neither can angels. Nope, from head to toe, they’re pretty much indestructible. So imagine everyone’s utter shock when you break a bone, and they’re reminded of just how weak the human body really is.

Word Count: 5.2k

SFW + mild violence + mild description of broken bones

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

Boi flips out

So it didn’t actually happen while he was around, which is why he has so much trouble understanding what happened

You tripped on the steps outside Majolish? And you fell the wrong way??? And somehow, that was enough for you to break your ankle?!?!?!

Poor baby, he has no idea how he’s going to relay the information to Diavolo

When Mammon and Asmo sheepishly enter his study to tell him what happened, they’re highkey terrified for their lives - but learning that you actually broke a bone has him so shook that he doesn’t even remember to punish them, and he’s instead rushing to your room to see the damage for himself

He sees Belphie napping on your stomach and sort of assumes that everything is okay, and that his brothers were making a big deal out of nothing

Then he gets closer and sees the horribly twisted angle your left foot is in

Suffice it to say, neither Mammon nor Asmo returned to their rooms fully unscathed that night

Overcomes his natural hatred of Solomon to call him and ask for—brace yourself—help, and when the mage offers to cast a spell that will revert your body to its prior state, Lucifer insists on doing it himself, no longer trusting anyone else with your all-too-fragile body

Relocates your room to the first floor of the house after all is said and done

Asks Diavolo to move all your classes such that you don’t need to climb any stairs

Refuses to believe you when you tried to insist that bones breaking is fairly common for humans

Becomes super overprotective

Insists on helping you with everything

“Lucifer, I can walk down the stairs myself, you know.”

“Yes, I’m sure you can” - he says with a straight face, refusing to let go of your hand as he takes you down the two-step elevation outside the House of Lamentation

(Bonus:) One day he catches you and Levi looking at parkour videos and from that moment and onward he refuses to let you out of sight for any longer than is absolutely necessary

(Bonus bonus:) Catches you doing "parkour" in your bedroom, jumping from Beel’s shoulders to the bed, and then it becomes a new house rule that you’re not allowed to climb onto Beel’s shoulders

Mammon

He was with you when it happened, and the second he heard the crack, he screamed

Honestly, the most high-pitched, shrill sound you’d ever heard

You were more scared of the noise coming out of Mammon’s mouth than the awkward way your pinky was dangling

Only when he was done screaming did the pain actually set in, and then you were hissing viciously in an attempt to distract yourself, trying your hardest to blink the tears from your eyes because Mammon already looked like he was about to cry, and the Devildom really didn’t need two blubbering messes in one day

The one saving grace for you both was the fact that Simeon was nearby, and he used his Celestial magic to heal you (you both begged him not to tell Lucifer, of course)

Baby becomes even more possessive over you afterwards

Still can’t get over how easily it happened

“Are ya sure?” Mammon asks whenever you casually tell him you’re about to do something. Doesn’t matter if you say you’re folding paper cranes or planning on jumping off the roof of the House of Lamentation, he’s lost pretty much all faith in your ability to do anything without your human body breaking in the process

Oddly enough, he becomes much more touchy with you

Needs you to “prove to him” that you’re not injured by squeezing his hand

And then he just doesn’t let go

Oh, you’re holding hands? What? Who said that? Wait, can you prove that you’re not injured and squeeze his hand again? It’s for safety purposes. For safety.

Occasionally, though, he really does have you move your pinky just to prove to him that there weren’t any lasting effects

Overprotectiveness increases by 500 points

Starts to hover around your room a lot more, awkwardly trying to help (really, he’s doing his best) but often doing things much worse than if you simply did them yourself

Gets into a fight with his brothers whenever one of them handles you too roughly

“Hey!” He shouts at pretty much anyone who touches you “Ya gonna hurt my human!”

Will drop anything and everything if he ever sees you trip to catch your fall

Legit, he was once holding Lucifer’s cup of coffee and out of the corner of his eye, he saw you jump to flop on the couch. Cue instant panic mode: he turned into his demon form and all - literally throwing the coffee on Lucifer as he ran forward to catch your body before the couch could break any of your bones

Yeah, he got into a lot of trouble that day

Leviathan

Has officially decided that he’s never going outside again

Ever.

It happened while you were both at one of Lord Diavolo’s parties - you were trying to maneuver the crowds in search of him, actually, and another demon tugged you close and tried to force you to dance. You fought back, of course, frowning as you escaped the demon’s hold, but apparently, they pulled you back and your wrist just snapped

God, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sound of your scream

The demon was punished severely, Diavolo made sure of that. But Levi didn’t care anymore - he just wanted to get you back home, safe and sound

In the following days, he never leaves your side

You have to switch to online classes, at least for as long as your wrist is healing, and Levi takes it upon himself to make sure that the assimilation process is as smooth as possible

You start taking all your classes together, remaining in the same room even if you don’t have the same subject

Homework is a little harder, since Levi usually finishes before you, but he waits for you to finish while he reads manga

Evenings are spent watching anime in his room and debating random topics (oh, and you both marathon the entirety of TSL a couple more times ;))

He even tries to let you get the video game experience, and he picks an RPG game for you both to play and lets you tell him what to do an how to move around, since your wrist is broken

It’s actually super fun because he knows where all the traps are and which ones you’ll like, so he subtly guides your character through the gameplay process to get the best possible experience, and you actually end up enjoying this more than playing solo

(As a joke, he once offers to let you play with him. As in, you use your nonbroken hand to control the left side of the controller and he controls the right side, but that turns out to be a hot mess and you both quickly abandon the idea)

Even after your wrist heals, the two of you continue to spend boatloads of time together

This boy even stops calling you “normie” at one point

Real subtle about it but he tries to convince you not to go back into society again. Like ever.

“What if you get hurt again?” He asks when you tell him you’ve made plans with Asmo to go shopping

“Then we get to spend even more time together, all over again!”

Cue leviathan/blushingmess.exe

Satan

Probably the ONLY brother to have actually known that it’s possible for humans to break bones

Why?

He read about it in a book once

Still, that doesn’t stop him from visually flinching when he sees you writhing on the ground after being shoved into a bike rack by a lower-level demon, clutching your arm which is disfigured so awkwardly that the bone is popping out

His demon form manifests immediately, and he’s about to rip this demon to shreds when you desperately call out his name, and then he’s more preoccupied with helping you than he is with beating this demon to death

(Inwardly, though, he’s quite relieved that you stopped him from killing the demon immediately. Now, he’ll get to spend the next four millennia torturing the creature slowly, keeping it just an inch from death until he’s satisfied that the demon has paid for injuring you so severely. :))

Runs over to you immediately and pulls you onto his lap, quickly muttering an enchantment that will temporarily numb the pain

Proceeds to ask you whether you want him to use magic to forcefully heal you or if you want to heal the human way

Will respect your wishes 100% no matter which you choose

Throws himself into reading and studying human medicine as soon as the two of you get back to the House of Lamentation

By the end of the month, he’s an expert on human anatomy (and where human strength lies on a comparative figure to demon strength)

Takes it upon himself to watch out for you, threatening any demons who express behavior that isn’t excessively cautious

Starts walking with you and Mammon to and from school

Keep it lowkey, but the truth is that he doesn’t trust his brother to fully make sure that you’re safe so he takes it upon himself

Doesn’t really panic too much, he knows that you getting injured was more the demon’s fault than it was yours

Is actually very considerate of your feelings in all this

Consciously makes sure that he doesn’t treat you too differently, not wanting to make you feel like he thinks you’re weak. But he no longer trusts other demons around you, and after getting your permission, he casts an enchantment on you which prevents lower-level demons from touching you without your explicit consent

Smiles devilishly every single time one of them tries to shove you in the hallways of RAD and gets sent flying 30 meters backwards in response

Devilish smile intensifies when he finally gets around to kidnapping and torturing the demon who dared to push and injure you in the first place

Asmodeus

He’s worried about you for a good hour

Not to say he’s inconsiderate

No, he’s understandably concerned immediately after he sees you on crutches, and when you come home with a broken foot, he’s immediately hanging out with you and completely (read: barely) restraining himself from making flirtatious comments in case you’re still in pain

The second he realizes that you’re fine as long as you don’t apply pressure on it, a switch flips

Now that he knows that the fracture isn’t going to spread to the rest of your body and destroy you from the inside, he’s overwhelmed with how cute it is that you need his help to do basic stuff

And honestly, you kinda vibe with it

He’s the shortest brother, so you having to ask him for help to get things off the shelf because you can’t stand is a rarity, and he is living for it

He lives with six overlords of hell, so the feeling of someone asking (no matter how reluctant) him for help in simple stuff like climbing up or down the stairs is something he absolutely cherishes

The second he realizes how good it feels to do stuff for you, he’ll never stop

Will 100% put Mammon to shame in how frequently he starts hanging by your side

He thinks of everything even before you do, always making sure that when you guys sit down, you have everything you need to be occupied for hours: from water to nail polish to the latest gossip at RAD, this man will make it his life’s mission to be the perfect prince while you’re injured

Seriously spoils you

Even when you finally heal and get better, he doesn’t stop helping you

Actually has the nerve to start complaining when you try to do stuff on your own

“You’re going to hurt yourself! Let me do it for you!”

“Asmo, I’m microwaving popcorn”

It doesn’t matter if you shower him with 'thank yous’ or if you grunt in annoyance every time he sits down next to you with an item you were about to get up and look for, he knows you appreciate the things he’s doing and that’s all he needs

Effectively gives you the royal treatment, occasionally putting Barbatos to shame with how diligent he is in helping you out

It never stops, even months after you’ve made a full recovery

Then again, who are you to complain? ;)

Beelzebub

Suddenly becomes terrified of his own strength

He’s there as it happens, and the way your face immediately contorts in pain right before you bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming will really never stop haunting him

It doesn’t help that you get injured from something that would usually be considered child-safe in the Devildom - a small windup toy which your fingers had gotten stuck in before two of them snap completely

Man is by your side immediately

The pit in his stomach isn’t caused by hunger but by genuine fear as he watches Lucifer and Satan soothe you with magic

He wants to run over to you and wipe your tears away, but should he? How can that be a good idea? He’s easily 1000000000x stronger than that toy you were messing around with, and what if he accidentally hurts you?

He knew it was possible for him to kill you before, but now he realizes how easy it would be - so simple that he might not even realize it

Instantly steps back and begins avoiding physical contact with you, trying his hardest to be there for you emotionally but struggling because every time you ask him for cuddles, he awkwardly changes the subject and looks away

He only comes clean to you about his concerns after you get mad at him and plant yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his head angrily as you demand that he give you affection

“Beel,” You mutter, a light pout forming on your face. “The reason you’re strong isn’t just because you have the muscles, it’s because you have control. You’ve never hurt me before, and nothing you do will hurt me now, so stop being such a stubborn goof and hug me”

Cue very hesitant hug

But it’s a start, and he slowly becomes physically close to you once more

(Subtly tries to let you stay in charge, though. He’ll initiate hugs, but you’re the one to squeeze tightly, and he’ll simply follow your lead)

Decides that rather than being afraid of what his strength can do, he’s going to use it to his advantage - and he resolves to become even stronger so that if there’s ever anything that can cause you pain, he’ll be there by your side protecting you, whether it’s against a demon strong as Diavolo or another windup toy from Majolish

Gets into the habit of running his fingers over your hand after it’s done healing, checking for scars and making sure that you’re still completely healed

Slowly develops into handholding - and who is Beel to complain? If he’s holding your hand, he’s by your side, and if he’s by your side, he can better protect you, so there’s no problem there

Belphegor

Quietly blames himself

It apparently happened while you were alone, and you fell down the stairs in the House of Lamentation. But Belphie is 99.99% sure that you were only going up to see him, and if he had just been awake, this never would have happened

Not to mention, this was the second time he had caused you pain, and it wasn’t even intentional!

Boy can’t look you in the eyes properly after the incident

Starts forcing himself to stay awake and isolates himself in the attic

Only when Beel finally gets serious and asks him what’s wrong does he quietly confess his thoughts, and his twin is quick to relay the information back to you

Honestly, you’re lowkey relieved when you hear the reason

You were beginning to think that Belphie was avoiding you because he had grown tired of your company, and the thought was sort beginning to break your heart

That doesn’t stop you from yelling at him for being inconsiderate

“This is why you need to talk about your feelings, Belphie!”

“But— “

“No buts!”

Honestly, he’s kind of relieved to see you yell at him so animatedly despite the cast around your arm, it makes him realize that although you’re physically injured, you’re mentally fine

Is very hesitant about napping on you, especially since he knows that if he falls asleep and accidentally shifts into a position that hurts you, you won’t be strong enough to stop him

You flick his forehead and tell him to not to be stupid, insisting that he sleeps next to you like usual, and he very hesitantly leans on the shoulder of the opposite arm you injured

Becomes way more considerate, even when tired

Shift in your sleep? He’s awake, checking to make sure that you aren’t uncomfortable or in pain

Wake up and try to get a glass of water? No problem, Belphie will get it for you, just stay here and sleep tight

Hogging the blanket? For the first time, Belphie doesn’t even mind, he’ll just carefully snuggle closer to you, double-checking that you’re comfortable before drifting back off to sleep

Even after the cast comes off, he’s still conscious about how tightly he grips you and how much physical exertion you put your body through, always reminding himself that, above all, you’re human and your body can’t handle the things his can

Solomon

Groans

That’s right, thanks to an awkward fall, your toe is broken, and this wizard boy has to audacity to groan at the sight of you on the floor, tears in your eyes as you clutch your foot through your shoe

“As if those brothers don’t hate me enough as is,” He grumbles, lifting you to your feet and whisking you back to Purgatory Hall, where he goes full medic mode and inspects the damage

Tries his hardest to convince you to let him fix it with magic, but just last week, he accidentally turned you into a cat while attempting to place a strength enchantment over you, so you’re understandably hesitant as you refuse him

As expected, when the brothers find out, they put him through hell (pun intended)

For not being able to protect you while it happens (they ignore his complaints that it was technically you who fell and injured yourself) he is now tasked with your recovery

Aka he is your slave

You make him carry your books when you go from class to class, you make him buy you lunch from the cafeteria, you make him give you his lecture notes whenever you don’t feel like paying attention in class

Hell, if he weren’t such a god awful cook, you would probably make him take over your cooking duty, as well

“This is abuse” He huffs one day, sighing in irritation after you ask him to go fetch you a glass of water

“I’m sorry?” You ask, feigning innocence. “What’s that? Did you ask me to go tell Lucifer that you aren’t treating me properly?”

Grumbles under his breath in six different languages, cursing you out in each one of them as you wink at him

You’re almost sad when your toe finally heals, and he’s finally free

Thankfully, the two of you somehow grew used to each other after spending so much time together for so long, and (much to the brothers’ displeasure) you continue hanging out with Solomon long after you’re off crutches

Will tease you about it when it’s all over

He doesn’t forget about how you lorded over him for as long as you were injured, and thus takes it upon himself to make sure that you don’t get hurt again under his watch

(At least, that’s what he tells himself as he holds your hand to march you down the steps outside Majolish, not letting go even after the ‘threat’ is passed)

Simeon

confusedangel.exe

First and foremost, how did this happen??

He’s so concerned and shocked when you show up to RAD one day in crutches because you broke a bone on your leg

Didn’t know that was possible

Actually goes home and spends half an hour on the Devildom equivalent of Google trying to maneuver his phone and search up how common this is and whether it’s normal for humans

Accidentally opens the images tab and sees a bunch of super disturbing and painful-looking injuries, and he nearly drops his phone altogether

Instantly assumes that your injury is as bad as those, despite your constant reassurances that you’re fine as long as you don’t apply too much pressure

Lots of pampering

He’s suddenly available 100% of the time for you, no matter what he’s already doing or the time of day

Insists on helping you wherever he can, like holding your stuff for you at RAD, ferrying you from class to class without forcing you to don that heavy rucksack

Even takes over the responsibility of walking you to and from school

He doesn’t quite understand that your injury is physical??

Like he can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that you’re mentally unaffected by the injury, because angelic injuries are typically so difficult to induce and severe that they always cause some kind of trauma

He’s always testing you - double-checking that you remember facts from old lectures, holding up fingers to test your sight, even asking you details about himself every now and then

That’s actually the story of how you accidentally told him that you thought his eyes were prettier than the sky and he still hasn’t forgotten it

Never really forgets about your injury, even after your crutches are long gone

Protectiveness goes up by 5000%

He suddenly becomes acutely aware of the fact that you’re surrounded by demons and, although the brothers usually mean well, he becomes impossible concerned for how you’re faring

He expresses his concerns to you one day really sweetly and you’re so touched because ??? How can someone be this pure???

To ease his concerns, you both start hanging out a lot more - when before you mostly hung out at the RAD library before parting ways, Simeon now invites you over to Purgatory Hall more often and you bring him back to the House of Lamentation so that he can see how safe you are with the brothers

Luke

Just like Simeon, there’s so much confusion going on inside this smol bean’s head

Are you really telling him that you??? the person who has taken it upon themself to be protective over HIM??? are so weak and fragile??? that tripping over a pebble was enough to fracture your jaw???

The roles in your relationship are suddenly reversed

(Or well, Luke tries to reverse them)

He does his best to be there for you instead of vice versa, insisting that you no longer need to save him from the brothers when they make fun of him for being like a chihuahua

Lowkey, he actually earns their respect for how protective he’s suddenly being over you, but the baby can only go so far because - face it - he’s basically ten years old

Doesn’t let that stop him from shooting dirty looks toward any demon who looks at the bandages on your face twice

Immediately goes home and researches what kind of foods you can comfortably eat, and enlists both Barbatos and Beel’s help in cooking soft dishes for you that you’ll be able to eat, despite your injury

Does his best to help you where he can

Takes over your cooking duty at the House of Lamentation

Takes extra-detailed notes so he can lend them to you after class

Even goes as far as to get high-quality Celestial bandages with natural healing properties and gives them to you, hoping that everything he’s doing will make your recovery a little bit faster

He’s really come to look up to you as an older sibling, so seeing you injured (even if you don’t necessarily show the pain) has him seriously torn up inside, and it takes all his effort to keep a straight face every time he looks at you and sees the bandages on your face

If you’re even a little self-conscious about any scars afterwards, he will spend hours convincing you that you look fine (and in truth, he can’t actually see the scar anymore, so he’s being honest)

Long after you’re recovered, he will remember at the most random times that you’re so fragile despite always looking so strong, and it tears him up inside

Because of this, random, tearful hugs become the norm

Occasionally, one look is all it takes before his eyes are welling with tears and he’s burying his face inside your stomach, holding you tight and promising to “protect you to make sure that you never get hurt again”

Very innocent, very sweet

Never fully forgets ever again just how fragile humans are

Barbatos

Knew it could happen

Was sort of prepared for it to happen

Didn’t actually expect it to fucking happen

This is probably one of the only times where he regrets not using his powers to check and see what the future held - literally, it would have been so easy to have saved you had he known it was coming

Went to Diavolo asking to switch timelines but the demon lord said no

Highkey becomes incredibly protective of you, just in super subtle ways

You suddenly find yourself invited to Diavolo’s palace much more often, and it’s Barbatos who now entertains you, bringing you there under the guise of asking you to “taste the new recipes” he’s attempting to perfect

Pfft, his recipes are already the definition of perfect - the only reason he’s putting that food in your mouth is because he cast a spell on it, and it’ll make your bones stronger

Dodges all questions when you ask about it, real slick

“Barbatos, isn’t this the same dish you gave Beel when we came here last month?”

“I’m afraid I have no recollection of what you’re talking about.”

“You know, the dessert you gave him after he asked you for the biggest banana spli—”

“Oh my, would you look at the time. Let’s get you home, now, before it gets too late”

Used to walk in front of you when walking you around the palace, but he now walks behind you so that he can watch you in case you trip

I mean, why wouldn’t he? You managed to break your collarbone while jumping down the stairs in Diavolo’s palace - you clearly can’t be trusted to look after your own health

(lowkey also never leaves you unsupervised around Mammon again, who in hell thinks it’s a good idea to try parkour of all things in the castle of the demon lord??? and encourages it?????)

Finds it incredibly endearing when your injury renders you unable to do basic tasks

Like if you were a helpless human in his mind before, now you’re less independent than an unpottytrained demonchild, and Barbatos is living for it, especially since you’re too stubborn to ask the brothers for help, so you turn to him instead

Absolutely loves when you text him for help

[17:39] MC: barbatos?

[17:40] Barbatos: Yes? Are you in need of something?

[17:40] MC: ...i was walking around the House of Lamentation and i accidentally banged into the wall outside Satan’s room and there was a really big sound and it turns out that i knocked a bunch of his books off the shelf and he comes home in half an hour and please help he’s going to kill me if he sees what happened

[17:40] Barbatos:

[17:41] Barbatos: I’ll be right there.

Diavolo

Oh boy

This man has lived a long, LONG time and never in all those millennia has he been as pissed as he is now, seeing you sheepishly lean on Mammon for support with the nearly all of your leg hanging limp

What he can’t grasp is the fact that this actually happened in school

Like, it would be one thing if a demon had injured you out of spite - he could simply punish them for all eternity and eradicate the root of the problem

But for you to be injured this severely? In spellcasting class, no less?

Instantly fires the teacher who was careless enough to let you walk into a casting circle which almost obliterated you whole - and spends ages commending Satan for having the wit to save you before things got even worse

But that doesn’t stop him from using the full extent of his princely power to ensure your continued safety

Instantly moves you out of the House of Lamentation and into his own palace, ignoring Lucifer’s repeated requests for you to not be moved

“I need to make sure they’re comfortable,” He hisses to his right-hand man, almost to Barbatos’s amusement. “The healing process for humans is long, and I need to make sure that they get better without the distractions your brothers provide”

Makes it painfully clear that if you ever get injured again under an RAD teacher’s watch, nothing will be able to save them from the unforgiving flames of his wrath

Starts spending as much time with you as humanly possible

He always stops by your room in the afternoon, generally to check on your well being and to inquire on how you’re faring, but those conversations always seem to wrap up late at night, long after you’ve both abandoned the original topic at hand and are lost in discussion over something else

One time, when he was feeling particularly guilty after looking at the painful swelling on your leg, he invited you back to his own room to sleep on his bed because - as the acting king of the Devildom - his bed is literally the most comfortable place in the world and he hardly uses it

You sleep in it once and can never sleep anywhere else again

For more reasons than one

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

(Reluctantly) offers to let you move back into the House of Lamentation once you’re completely healed, but celebrates like crazy when you tell him that you’d much rather stay with him, and it becomes SUCH an ego stroke every time you remind him how much you adore it in his palace

Lowkey grateful that you got injured because it was the catalyst that allowed you both to grow close

But will absolutely make sure that nothing of the like ever happens again

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pope-francis-quotes · 4 years

Text

10th April >> (@ZenitEnglish) #PopeFrancis #Pope Francis Presides Over Celebration of Passion of the Lord. Full Text of Homily by Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa, O.F.M. Cap

Pope Francis on Good Friday presided over the celebration of the Passion of the Lord in the Vatican Basilica.

The Preacher of the Pontifical House, Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa, O.F.M. Cap., delivered the homily, which is provided in its entirety below, provided by the Vatican.

“I HAVE PLANS FOR YOUR WELFARE AND NOT FOR WOE”

St. Gregory the Great said that Scripture “grows with its readers”, cum legentibus crescit.[1] It reveals meanings always new according to the questions people have in their hearts as they read it. And this year we read the account of the Passion with a question—rather with a cry—in our hearts that is rising up over the whole earth. We need to seek the answer that the word of God gives it.

The Gospel reading we have just listened to is the account of the objectively greatest evil committed on earth. We can look at it from two different angles: either from the front or from the back, that is, either from its causes or from its effects. If we stop at the historical causes of Christ’s death, we get confused and everyone will be tempted to say, as Pilate did, “I am innocent of this man’s blood” (Mt 27:24). The cross is better understood by its effects than by its causes. And what were the effects of Christ’s death? Being justified through faith in him, being reconciled and at peace with God, and being filled with the hope of eternal life! (see Rom 53:1-5).

But there is one effect that the current situation can help us to grasp in particular. The cross of Christ has changed the meaning of pain and human suffering—of every kind of suffering, physical and moral. It is no longer punishment, a curse. It was redeemed at its root when the Son of God took it upon himself. What is the surest proof that the drink someone offers you is not poisoned? It is if that person drinks from the same cup before you do. This is what God has done: on the cross, he drank, in front of the whole world, the cup of pain down to its dregs. This is how he showed us it is not poisoned, but that there is a pearl at the bottom of it.

And not only the pain of those who have faith but of every human pain. He died for all human beings: “And when I am lifted up from the earth,” he said, “I will draw everyone to myself” (Jn 12:32).

Everyone, not just some! St. John Paul II wrote from his hospital bed after his attempted assassination, “To suffer means to become particularly susceptible, particularly open to the working of the salvific powers of God, offered to humanity in Christ.”[2] Thanks to the cross of Christ, suffering has also become in its own way a kind of “universal sacrament of salvation” for the human race.

* * *

What light does all of this shed on the dramatic situation that humanity is going through now? Here too we need to look at the effects more than at the causes—not just the negative ones we hear about every day in heart-wrenching reports but also the positive ones that only a more careful observation can help us grasp.

The pandemic of Coronavirus has abruptly roused us from the greatest danger individuals and humanity have always been susceptible to: the delusion of omnipotence. A Jewish rabbi has written that we have the opportunity to celebrate a very special paschal exodus this year, that “from the exile of consciousness” [3]. It took merely the smallest and most formless element of nature, a virus, to remind us that we are mortal, that military power and technology are not sufficient to save us. As a psalm in the Bible says, “In his prime, man does not understand. / He is like the beasts—they perish” (Ps 49:21). How true that is!

While he was painting frescoes in St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, the artist James Thornhill became so excited at a certain point about his fresco that he stepped back to see it better and was unaware he was about to fall over the edge of the scaffolding. A horrified assistant understood that crying out to him would have only hastened the disaster. Without thinking twice, he dipped a brush in paint and hurled it at the middle of the fresco. The master, appalled, sprang forward. His work was damaged, but he was saved.

God does this with us sometimes: he disrupts our projects and our calm to save us from the abyss we don’t see. But we need to be careful not to be deceived. God is not the one who hurled the brush at the sparkling fresco of our technological society. God is our ally, not the ally of the virus! He himself says in the Bible, “I have . . . plans for your welfare and not for woe” (Jer 29:11). If these scourges were punishments of God, it would not be explained why they strike equally good and bad, and why the poor usually bring the worst consequences of them. Are they more sinners than others?

No! The one who cried one day for Lazarus’ death cries today for the scourge that has fallen on humanity. Yes, God “suffers”, like every father and every mother. When we will find out this one day, we will be ashamed of all the accusations we made against him in life. God participates in our pain to overcome it. “Being supremely good – wrote St. Augustine – God would not allow any evil in his works, unless in his omnipotence and goodness, he is able to bring forth good out of evil.”[4]

Did God the Father possibly desire the death of his Son in order to draw good out of it? No, he simply permitted human freedom to take its course, making it serve, however, his own purposes and not those of human beings. This is also the case for natural disasters like earthquakes and plagues. He does not bring them about. He has given nature a kind of freedom as well, qualitatively different of course than that of human beings, but still a form of freedom—freedom to evolve according to its own laws of development. He did not create a world as a programmed clock whose least little movement could be anticipated. It is what some call “chance” but the Bible calls instead “the wisdom of God.”

* * *

The other positive fruit of the present health crisis is the feeling of solidarity. When, in the memory of humanity, have the people of all nations ever felt themselves so united, so equal, so less in conflict than at this moment of pain? Never so much as now have we experienced the truth of the words of one of our great poets: “Peace, you peoples! Too deep is the mystery of the prostrate earth.”[5] We have forgotten about building walls. The virus knows no borders. In an instant, it has broken down all the barriers and distinctions of race, nation, religion, wealth, and power. We should not revert to that prior time when this moment has passed. As the Holy Father has exhorted us, we should not waste this opportunity. Let us not allow so much pain, so many deaths, and so much heroic engagement on the part of health workers to have been in vain. Returning to the way things were is the “recession” we should fear the most.

They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks;

One nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again. (Is 2:4)

This is the moment to put into practice something of the prophecy of Isaiah whose fulfillment humanity has long been waiting for. Let us say “Enough!” to the tragic race toward arms. Say it with all your might, you young people, because it is above all your destiny that is at stake. Let us devote the unlimited resources committed to weapons to the goals that we now realize are most necessary and urgent: health, hygiene, food, the fight against poverty, stewardship of creation. Let us leave to the next generation a world poorer in goods and money, if need be, but richer in its humanity.

* * *

The word of God tells us the first thing we should do at times like these is to cry out to God. He himself is the one who puts on people’s lips the words to cry out to him, at times harsh words of lament and almost of accusation: “Awake! Why do you sleep, O Lord? / Rise up! Do not reject us forever! . . . Rise up, help us! / Redeem us in your mercy” (Ps 44, 24, 27). “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (Mk 4:38).

Does God perhaps like to be petitioned so that he can grant his benefits? Can our prayer perhaps make God change his plans? No, but there are things that God has decided to grant us as the fruit both of his grace and of our prayer, almost as though sharing with his creatures the credit for the benefit received.[6] God is the one who prompts us to do it: “Seek and you will find,” Jesus said; “knock and the door will be opened to you” (Mt 7:7).

When the Israelites were bitten by poisonous serpents in the desert, God commanded Moses to lift up a serpent of bronze on a pole, and whoever looked at it would not die. Jesus appropriated this symbol to himself when he told Nicodemus, “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life” (Jn 3:14-15). We too at this moment have been bitten by an invisible, poisonous “serpent.” Let us gaze upon the one who was “lifted up” for us on the cross. Let us adore him on behalf of ourselves and of the whole human race. The one who looks on him with faith does not die. And if that person dies, it will be to enter eternal life.

“After three days I will rise”, Jesus had foretold (cf. Mt 9:31). We too, after these days that we hope will be short, shall rise and come out of the tombs of our homes. Not however to return to the former life like Lazarus, but to a new life, like Jesus. A more fraternal, more human, more Christian life!

[1] Moralia in Job, XX, 1.

[2] John Paul II, Salvifici doloris [On the Meaning of Human Suffering], n. 23.

[3] https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/coronavirus-a-spiritual-message-from-brooklyn (Yaakov Yitzhak Biderman).

[4] See St. Augustine, Enchiridion 11, 3; PL 40, 236.

[5] Giovanni Pascoli, “I due fanciulli” [“The Two Children”].

[6] See St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologicae, II-IIae, q. 83, a. 2.

10th APRIL 2020 19:27POPE & HOLY SEE

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kaoruyogi · 7 years

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How to Win Wars and Influence Nobles (Ch. 2)

Rating: E for Explicit/NSFW Content!

Check it out on AO3!

You’d think a video game lawyer could just drop into a pseudo-medieval universe filled with magic and demons and be totally okay with it, right?

Nah.

In the wake of her brother, Spencer’s, disappearance, Belle dropped into Thedas with luggage, but without a clue. After a brief but memorable panic attack, she resolved to be the best goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. Even if she was the only goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. And even if that obstinate asshole, Cullen, wouldn’t stop giving her the side-eye every time she walked into a room…Or every time he walked into a room with her in it…Or every time they walked into a room together…Or–Fuck it. You get it.

Chapter 2: That Vexing Interloper

The queerly dressed, foul-mouthed woman cried for nearly three hours after she woke the second time. Josephine insisted that all three advisors wait in the woman’s room until she calmed enough to discuss how she’d come to be with them. The entire exercise was feckless and pretextual as far as he was concerned. They could have put her in the cells to question her, or Leliana could have extracted whatever information she wanted in her own way. Instead they detained her in comfort, in her own room, while so many shared quarters or slept in tents in the valley below. That thought alone left him piqued—agitated in a way he never would have been if he’d seen anyone else crying. Anyone but her.

The way she’d spoken to him was impudent, to say the very least. While it was clear she had no idea who he was, that fact mattered little to him. That she thought her desires were more important than their cause, however, was a galling concept. He despised the nobility for the same reason, making it obvious to him that the two of them were not going to see eye to eye.

However, Leliana was uncharacteristically kind to her, and Josephine rubbed her back and cooed soothing little assurances for almost the entirety of the three hours of sobbing. Cullen stood with his arms crossed by the door, glowering at the weeping woman. She rocked back and forth, whimpering and puling, having wrapped herself up in a blanket to ward the cool winds away from her pale skin. Loose, winding tendrils of her deep red hair fell over her shoulder as she sniffled and swayed.

He would puff out a loud sigh every now and again to remind the women that they all had better things to do than watch this vexing interloper lament her circumstances. Josephine stared more than a few daggers into him in response. So there he waited. Until she finally began to speak.

Her name was Belle. She haled from someplace called “Orange County, California”—a strange name for a strange place. The year there was 2017, but she couldn’t explain what age it was. She said they didn’t have ages, but then rattled on about the “Middle Ages” and the “Bronze Age” and the “Industrial Age” and something about how ages were never named until after they were over in a flustered stream of consciousness he thought would never end. He became more grateful as she rambled that they hadn’t had time to question the other one. There was no telling what the young man may have spewed out in this state.

She asked for her glasses, telling Cullen they were in her purse next to him. When he looked inside the black and cream colored satchel, a jumble of bright colors and papers and tiny trinkets perplexed him so that he just hurled the whole mess onto the bed in front of her.

“Oh my God, will you stop disrespecting my shit?!” She hollered her curses at him after the odd leather bag spilled some of its contents, an angry, wounded look on her tear-swollen face. “First you want to dig through it, then you don’t want to dig through it, then you’re fucking hucking it at me.” Her head swung from one side to the other as she spoke, her voice still a bit nasal. “Fine. I get it. You don’t like me. You don’t want me here. Well, guess what, Commander Cullen Ruther-whateverthefuck of the Inquisition, I don’t want to be here either.”

She opened an misshapen orange leather pouch and pulled out a pair of clear eyeglasses, not at all like the dark monstrosities she’d been wearing when they found her. Once they were affixed to her face, she looked at him again, calmer this time. “But apparently I’m stuck here. So apparently you’re stuck with me.”

He couldn’t argue with her logic. Though he might argue that they weren’t quite as stuck with her as she was in Thedas. They could take her to Denerim or Val Royeaux and be rid of her. He remained silent, keeping that option to himself.

“How did you come to Thedas?” Leliana asked.

“I don’t know. If I had to guess, it probably happened when that weird green wormhole thing defied all science and reason and sucked me up in the middle of the street.”

The spymaster turned her attention to Cullen. “Your men said she fell from a rift, did they not?”

Of the three of them, he’d had the greatest exposure to Fade rifts. He spent days after the Breach opened fighting off the demons gushing out of the things. So he nodded. “That is also how the first one fell into the wreckage of the Temple. I do not know what a ‘wormhole’ is, but the way she describes it, I believe it is a Fade rift. How one might have opened in this ‘Orange County’ without simply pouring out demons is rather puzzling.”

“Perhaps we should ask Dagna to research this,” Josephine said, speaking up for the first time in what may have been minutes or hours. Her hand still rested on the bespectacled intruder’s shoulder.

Leliana nodded. “Yes, though she will want to take samples.”

A bulky curl flew through the air as the Belle’s head whirled to level a stare at the spymaster. “What do you mean, ‘samples’? Like, ‘oh we’ll just take a piece of her shirt and a few skin cells’ samples or, ‘well, hey, it’s time to chop off a foot’ samples?”

“Somewhere in between, I imagine.”

“Listen, if you’re trying to be funny, comedy has this thing called ‘timing.’ I don’t think you’ve grasped it.”

The spymaster smiled—actually smiled—at the impertinent woman, and she managed to smile back. It was a weak thing, but there was something pleasing about it. It was genuine and warm, and her bottom lip stretched more than her top one. He cleared his throat to jostle himself from the thought.

Three sets of eyes fixed themselves on him, all of them perturbed. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and when the women had determined he had nothing useful to add they returned to their conversation.

“You guys keep talking about ‘the young man’ and ‘the other one.’ There was someone else who dropped in on you like I did?”

Leliana nodded. “There was.”

“Who is he? Do he and I have anything in common that might have drawn both of us here?” Belle’s hazel eyes bore a glimmer of hope beneath their watery sheen.

“I think perhaps we will keep his name to ourselves until he returns in five days’ time. We are uncertain whether anything may link the two of you, and we have not yet ruled out Corypheus’s involvement in your sudden appearance.”

Offhand, Cullen couldn’t fathom anything that might have linked the young man to Belle. They differed in far too many ways.

“I don’t know who or what that is, but I get it.” The outsider accepted Leliana’s reply with too little protest, in his opinion. While he preferred this non-sobbing version of her, he found her sudden surrender peculiar.

As if reading his thoughts, she looked him dead in the eye and said, “It’s pointless for me to argue with you all. I gather that you’re at war here—needing a Commander and a keep and the clanging swords outside and everything—and I definitely can’t get home without another wormhole or rift or whatever. So all I can do for now is wait until we sort this out and thank you for your help.” Her stare was fixed on him as she spoke, her voice leaving her dusky lips in a tone so even and controlled it was like a different person was talking.

Could they read minds in Orange County?

“Do you have a trade where you come from?” Josephine asked. It was a good question. The Inquisition could not afford to feed anyone that did not work, let alone quarter them. In a private tower only feet from his own. He stifled a growl at the thought.

Belle sniffled and pushed at her nose with her knuckle. “I did. I do? Yes, I guess would be the best answer, ignoring tenses. I’m an attorney.”

Confounded glances flicked between each of the advisors. It was a rare occasion, indeed, when not one of them knew the meaning of a word. Even rarer when the word was related to a trade. Their combined experience with the varied peoples of Thedas offered them a wide pool of knowledge from which to draw their comprehension. Orange County must have been quite bizarre.

Josephine, it seemed, was the first of them brave enough to admit she did not understand. “I apologize. I have never heard of such a trade.” Her hazel eyes cast down for a moment as she considered her next words. “What does it entail?” she asked, looking to Belle’s face again. Their eyes appeared remarkably similar in color from where he stood.

“Oh. Um. Okay, so you don’t have attorneys here. That must make things easier and harder all at once.” Belle was muttering again. She took a deep breath, and as she did her hands rose up in front of her. Her nails were long and covered in some sort of paint. Tiny lines and patterns wove from finger to finger in glittering shades of blue and purple and pink. It was like nothing Cullen had ever encountered before. Like miniscule paintings. Perhaps “attorney” meant “painter” where she came from.

“Okay, an attorney is someone who works with the law,” she said. Her hands moved while she spoke, her long fingers curving with surprising delicacy. Her pinkies stayed out straighter than the others, but not completely straight. Odd.

Cullen ventured a guess. “Is it a post in a guard force?”

Belle bunched her mouth up on the left side of her face. “Not really? Umm…” She hummed and drew both lips between her teeth. “Attorneys—or lawyers or counselors we’re sometimes called—help create the law. Then we help people use the law to protect themselves and attack others who’ve violated it.” Strange. Cullen had only ever heard of monarchs and nobility making the law or punishing violators.

“Most of us specialize in a particular area or study because there are so many laws. I specialize in video ga—Um…I worked a lot on negotiations, drawing up contracts, employment agreements, privacy agreements, and terms of use, and with copyright and trademark stuff. I worked on some incorporations. I also did a little bit of business advisory work with some of my clients. I’d help them with strategies to grow their companies and make more money. Oh, and I do a little mediating here and there.” She splayed her fingers out in a kind of shrug and raised her eyebrows. He supposed she was finished.

Cullen had never seen Josephine’s eyes light up like they did as Belle explained herself. No one in that room understood some of the words she’d said. There was little doubt about that. But Josephine heard “negotiations,” “contracts,” “agreements,” “grow,” and “more money” and began to glow like the sun. It was unsettling.

Leliana let out a small laugh—also unsettling. “I believe we may have found someone of your ilk, Josie.”

The lady ambassador ignored the remark, the entirety of her energy now honed in on their uninvited guest. She spoke with the voice of a child on Satinalia morning. “Truly? Your work involves contracts and negotiations?” She leaned forward as she pried—unaware of her own movement, Cullen imagined. Josephine was not one to relinquish her composure.

Meanwhile, Belle leaned back, eyes wide with surprise and mouth bearing a poorly bitten back grin. “Yes. That’s most of what I do—did—” She let out an exasperated sigh. She seemed to be having some difficulty reconciling her past and present. “Most of it has to do with contracts and negotiations. There’s other work, but that was my bread and butter.” A fitting choice of words, as that was what she would have to earn for as long as she stayed with them.

If she was not working for Corypheus.

Josephine’s expression turned pensive in a flash. “I could use someone like you. The nobility are fickle, and while many of them are useful for a transaction or two, there is no constant but me to track all of the Inquisition’s contracts. And I have no neutral nobility but myself to engage in negotiations.”

Belle’s face twisted into something like disgust. Who was she to feel disgusted at anything? Cullen’s contempt for her dredged itself up afresh, pricking at his fingertips, clutching the pommel of his sword just a little tighter.

“You’re doing all this by yourself? I mean, I get that you have people who work one or two cases for you, but no one’s got a consistent workload but you? And you’re the only negotiator for—what is this—a whole army?”

“The Inquisition is a peacekeeping force instituted to end the mage rebellion, seal the Breach, find those responsible, and bring them to justice.” Cullen said it like he’d said it hundreds of times. He had. Every new recruit that passed under his command heard it before anything else. They needed to hear it before anything else.

But their pale stranger looked unimpressed. “Okay, thanks. At ease.” She flicked her wrist and hand in an odd kind of salute and looked away for a moment before her eyes snapped back to him. “Wait a second, did you just fucking say ‘mage’?”

The conversation sped up from there. Much to Cullen’s chagrin, Leliana and Josephine poured information out to the interloper, who it seemed had never seen magic or even heard of a real mage. They explained the mage uprising in as simple a set of terms as they could, told her about the Temple of Sacred ashes, the Breach, and Corypheus, and she learned of the events at Haven less than a month ago. Leliana didn’t seem to think Belle was as much a threat as he did. She said too much, in his opinion. But it was her knowledge to give, and not his place to question. He was beginning to feel he was just there to stand guard and be ignored.

It was agreed upon—without Cullen’s input—that Belle would be granted access to Skyhold proper. She would read and research the laws and customs of Thedas until the Inquisitor’s return in five days. With him would come the Inquisition’s other drop-in and Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast. At that time, the advisors, Cassandra, and the Inquisitor would make a second assessment of both the outsiders’ potential threat level and determine whether they could remain part of the organization. If their statements were deemed credible and their loyalty assured, Belle would begin working as Josephine’s primary associate. This would put her in a position of power, allowing her access to the Inquisition’s funds, authority to negotiate and contract on behalf of the Inquisition, and the ability to communicate with all the nobility of Thedas. Cullen did not wish the last duty upon anyone.

They left her after nightfall, and after she finally realized they had moved her to the upper floor of a very tall tower. She whimpered something about a fear of heights and Josephine promised her a staircase if all went as she hoped. Leliana whispered something to one of her scouts on the battlements. He nodded and vanished into the night.

“She will be watched closely,” said the spymaster.

Cullen nodded his relief and approval. “She must be.”

*****

It was three days before he saw Belle again. Three times a day, Leliana’s scouts would report to her, then to him. Most of what they told him was innocuous. Belle spent the majority of her time in one of the libraries, and could either be found with her nose buried in a tome in the rotunda or amid the dusty shelves beneath Josephine’s office.

She screamed the first time she saw Dorian do magic, but immediately grabbed him by the wrist to demand that he do it again. One of the scouts reported seeing her in the garden trying to replicate the simple spell to no avail. Cullen thanked his lucky stars for that. The last thing he needed was an untrained mage traipsing about unattended.

She also spat out ale the first time someone gave it to her in the Herald’s Rest, claiming something about a sensitive stomach. Cullen wondered if that was a ruse she played up to keep her wits about her while she spied on them. She wouldn’t be the first to avoid dampening her senses to keep a keen eye.

She even blanched at shedding her clothes in the baths. He could only perceive such reticence as concealment of some telling mark on her body. Some scar or brand on her flesh must have bound her to Corypheus. And she saturated an otherwise clean drying cloth. Wasteful.

There was yet another report that Belle swallowed several smooth pebble-shaped objects every morning and sometimes throughout the day. They emerged from a mélange of bottles in varying shapes and colors. He was also told that she counted the objects that remained in the bottles with a look of worry affixed to her face. When asked once, she said they were for her stomach, head, back, and neck. She called them “pills” and “meds.” Adan speculated when pressed that perhaps, in Orange County, these “pills” and “meds” were a means of delivering healing herbs—like a potion or a poultice for one’s innards. Rubbish. Cullen suspected she was hiding magical items in her gut. Or perhaps she was swallowing the bits to keep some enchantment in place. As far-fetched as it may have sounded to someone else, he had seen stranger things. Recently, in fact.

It was well into the depths of Belle’s third night in Skyhold when Cullen encountered her again. He’d tried to sleep. At least he played at trying to fall asleep. Sleep was an elusive thing, grasping it a fever dream in and of itself. Most nights he managed about two or three hours of tumultuous rest, tossing and turning and plagued by nightmares of horrors past. He was beset by night sweats and lyrium withdrawal symptoms, made worse by the fact that he was still hiding his cessation of the stuff from the Inquisitor. The man had enough troubles without being burdened with Cullen’s.

He threw on the nearest breeches and tunic he could find, not bothering with the small laces that would have made his shirt presentable. The knot at the hip of his breeches was lazy at best. He just needed a cup of water. He convinced himself that would be enough to help him sleep. He pulled on his boots with his feet more than his hands, stomping his way past his grip to don the worn leather things.

After descending the ladder and exiting his quarters, Cullen cast a quick glance at Belle’s tower. Belle’s tower. He scoffed at the thought. It sat just above the stables where the horses and Warden Blackwall made their beds for the night. They should have given that tower to the Warden, not to some irksome woman who fell through a rift. No light or sound emanated from within, so Cullen believed her to be asleep.

He travelled down the stairs against the battlements into the rear courtyard. It was the way he always went when he needed water in the middle of the night. The way he could disturb the fewest people and be watched by the fewest guards. He tugged the wooden door open as quietly as he could, knowing that many of the cooks and servants slept just below. Likewise, he silenced his footfalls. He’d woken Donatien once, and was loathe to suffer the cook’s spoon-flailing wrath a second time.

An odd shadow on the wall and the sound of quiet humming stilled his steps. There was someone else in the kitchen. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on her. Belle sat on the floor next to roaring fireplace in a tangle of limbs. Her back settled against the wall. She wore a soft shirt with a strange image on it, black breeches made from a similar material covering her crossed legs. A heavy looking book lay open between her knees, its spine resting on one of her bare ankles. Her feet were bare too, and the toes of her right foot wiggled on her left thigh. Her right hand sat on the edge of the volume, holding a page aloft as though she was about to turn it. The fingers of her left hand splayed across her cheek. Cullen lost sight of three of them under her hair. It glowed like a fiery halo about her round face, set alight by the flames beside her. Her pinky brushed back and forth across her parted lower lip as she read, the nail occasionally finding itself between her teeth. Her lips were plush and soft like the rest of her body. They were rather enticing when they weren’t spewing vitriol at him.

She turned the page and reached down without looking. The movement drew Cullen’s attention away from his dangerous thoughts about her lips. Her fingers tapped the floor around a half-eaten Orlesian bread roll on a cloth in front of her knee. Her head turned to find the bread her hand hadn’t, and she grabbed it up. But then she caught sight of him.

Belle’s whole body jerked, hurling her bread into the fire and slamming the thick tome shut between her thighs with a loud thump. Her hand flew up to grip her chest. She gasped hard, her supple lips emitting what he could only imagine was a string of curses. “Jesus balls on a bike!” She hissed in a breath. “Fuck!”

He was frozen in place, overwhelmed by boyhood sensation so familiar it made his chest ache. Like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have done. Seeing something he shouldn’t have seen. But that was wrong. She was the one doing something she shouldn’t have. “What are you doing in here at this time of night?”

She panted a few hard breaths before her hazel eyes flew up to meet his. “Reading, having a snack, what’s it look like? I’m a bad traveler, and I have no fucking idea what time zone this is, but I’m having a very hard time getting on your schedule. I’m also not a huge fan of climbing that godforsaken ladder in the tower. I should ask you the same thing. Shouldn’t you be—I dunno—sleeping or brooding or something?” There it was.

But he was befuddled. “I was…having trouble sleeping and I came in here for some water.” Maker’s breath. Why did he still feel he owed her an explanation?

She squinted up at him from behind her glasses. “Why are you so sweaty? It’s, like, forty-three degrees outside.”

He hadn’t noticed the sweat beading at his forehead and along his back until that moment. But he would not be explaining himself to the nettlesome woman any further. “You should not be in here.”

It was then that she stood. Belle snatched up the heavy book from the floor and marched right up to him. She stopped just shy of their bodies colliding. This close, Cullen could see the details of her eyes. They were blue-green like the sea, but a thick bronze starburst surrounded her pupils. Little flecks of ochre and sienna in that bronze ring made it look like armor—like a round shield that had been battered and marred and dented in the heat of battle. Where the rest of her was soft, her eyes were hard. Warrior’s eyes.

And those embattled eyes darted about, examining his face and boring down into him. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I find you suspicious.”

“It’s more than that, though. I think there’s something fundamental about me you don’t like.” She canted her head to the side, her gaze never leaving his. Her lips had a natural part when she paused. “That’s fine. But when you find my story credible—and rest assured you didn’t have to wait for whoever the hell is coming back here to do that—we’re going to have to work together, you and I. And that, Commander Cullen Rutherford, is something you’re going to have to come to grips with.”

Belle stepped back, still staring at him. He held himself firm, keeping his posture tight and his jaw clenched. She was right. There was something fundamentally infuriating about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Perhaps it was her obstinacy or her foul mouth or her general disregard for their well-founded suspicions. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him.

Book in hand, she slipped past Cullen toward the back door through which he had entered. “By the way,” she said behind him, “I don’t know what kind of drugs you have here in Thedas, but I’ve seen plenty of people detox before. You were right to come down for water. And you should take extra. Hydration is key.” The door closed, shutting out her tempestuous eyes and her confounding lips once more.

He felt exposed. He did not know what “detox” meant, but the way she said it…Maker. She knew something about him that no one else did. She must have.

He retrieved his water from the deep basin and drank it down. It was cool on his parched throat, though it did little to soothe his frayed nerves. He was naked to her. He couldn’t shake the feeling. It hovered over him as he trudged back to his tower, as he climbed his ladder, as he lay sleepless through the wee hours of the morning.

Unsettling, needling woman.

It was yet another two days before he saw her again. She stood beside Josephine on the steps of Skyhold outside the main hall, awaiting Inquisitor Trevelyan’s arrival. She seemed firm and composed, an occasional sigh the only sign of her nerves. Even when the Inquisitor and his companions rode through the gate, she remained still. Until the young man came in.

He marched alongside several of Cullen’s infantrymen, his every step dutiful despite the cheering around them. Cullen realized he wasn’t the only one watching Belle when the soldiers entered. Leliana and Josephine had also locked their eyes on her.

But all she could do was stare down at the portcullis. Her eyes widened first. Her jaw dropped open next. At her sides, her hands trembled. She murmured something they couldn’t quite hear. When Josephine asked Belle to repeat herself, she obliged, only a touch louder.

“P,” she said. One letter, her voice barely a whisper as she said it.

“What?” Josephine asked.

“Spencer!”

Ah. So they did know each other.

*****

#cullen #cullen rutherford #commander cullen #cullen x belle #belle dolan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #fanfic #mgit #htwwain #self indulgence au

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