“I’m fine,” he barked at Anon maybe a little unkindly. They had been fussing over him for weeks as he weaned himself off Lyrium, and to be honest, there were some days where he looked absolutely haggard. They would ask if he’s okay, if he needs anything before crawling into bed with him. And he’d say no. Because what could they even do?

Oh but then here came the worry in their tone that grated on his nerves, Anon giving him advice he didn’t ask for. He gives them a warning look. “Anon, don’t push me.” He holds up his hand. They just keep on.

A loud clattering of metal and shattering glass interrupted Anon as Cullen slung his Lyrium kit across the room, the wooden box shattering against the stone wall. Silence fell between them. Cullen’s heavy breathing demanded a pyrrhic victory. “Enough,” he bellowed, using his commander voice. "Do you not know how to take a hint? Do you not know when to shut up?

Cullen scrubs at his face. “If I wanted to be coddled I would run back to Honnleath! I don’t want your help. In fact I don’t want you at all–!” The words left his mouth faster than he could stop them.