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Inquisitor Ellana Lavellan lay in her overly comfortable bed, in her overly large room, perfectly warmed by a fire, stone walls perfectly balanced by stained glass preventing her from getting claustrophobic. And none of it was helping her sleep. She had been traveling for weeks, been thrust immediately into war table debates upon her return, and then finished with a dinner with both Fereldan and Orlesian nobles. She should have fallen into bed, exhausted, and slept like the dead. She hadn’t had any problem doing so every night she’d spent in the far corners of Orlais for the past month, nor in the years beforehand when she’d been traveling with her clan. She did not lay awake, tossing and turning, stripping in an attempt to cool her overheated skin. She did not think about burying her fingers in herself for just a hint of relief. This was not who she was.
Or at least it hadn’t been before Cullen fucking Rutherford. She had never lusted like this before. One glimpse of him tonight had her twisted and desperate. But what a glimpse it had been. All she had wanted was a breath of the cold mountain air after sitting in a stuffy dining room with too many dignitaries for hours. The icy rain ensured that the courtyard was empty, that she’d have peace. She was unfazed by the weather, so long as she had her cloak and a good pair of boots.
But the courtyard wasn’t empty. She heard the sound of grunts, exertion, had giggled at the thought that she might catch a couple of horny recruits in one of the doorways. But it wasn’t horny recruits. Cullen was in front of the training dummies, armorless and drenched by the rain, his linen undershirt rendered see-through, his pants clinging to his body. He was driving his body to punishment, stepping through what seemed to be a well-practiced training routine. A pattern to his swings, his parries. But the speed, the force with which he wielded his blade should have prevented his movements from being graceful. Instead, they were nearly a dance. You could barely tell where one maneuver stopped and another began. She had frozen in place, mouth immediately dry and stomach clenched. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the way his shoulders flexed and rippled, impossibly broad. When she finally did, it was only to watch the way his ass and hips moved. With a frustrated snarl, Cullen suddenly dropped his sword, a simple practice blade, and Ellana thought she’d been caught ogling her commander. Instead, her knees buckled when he tore the soaking wet shirt off of himself, his hair entirely unmussed in the aftermath. She knew it would look just like that if her fingers had gotten into the carefully laid coils. Somehow, Cullen’s pale skin still had a golden gleam to it, most noticeable next to the bone-white scars that littered the now wide-open expanse of his back.
He stooped to retrieve his sword and like the preternatural predators she had taken to battling, froze when he did finally realize he was being watched. At this time of night, in this weather, all he could see was a figure in a hooded cloak. Cullen was too smart, too world-weary to not be put on edge. So she slowly, slowly, lowered the hood, walking towards him as she did. Once he saw it was her, he met her halfway. “You shouldn’t be out in this weather.” His voice was rough, temper frayed. She was already expecting it from the ferocity of his training. It shouldn’t have tantalized her. It did.
“I’m better dressed for it than you.”
“Didn’t want to soak my armor. And the cold is… diverting.”
She didn’t need to ask from what. She could see it in his clenching hand on the sword hilt, the feathering in his jaw, the redness in his eyes. She did anyway. “The withdrawals are bad tonight?”
A bead of rain gathered on his temple and ran the length of his face, caressing his jaw. Her own hair was growing heavy in the rain. He was close enough to touch. She wanted to touch. Wanted to offer a different diversion. Wanted to know what he might say if she did. Cullen’s voice was all but raw. “The worst since adamant. Since I made a bloody fool of myself in front of you. I wish I wasn’t repeating my mistakes.”
“You weren’t a fool then. You aren’t a fool now.”
“You’re kind to lie.” He turned away. She laid her hand on his chest and he stopped.
“I don’t lie to those I care for Cullen.”
“Care for.” His empty hand laid over hers and she realized he was near feverish in his warmth. “Tell me that again in the morning, when I can respond with a clear mind.”
“What-”
He stepped closer, the space between them the width of their stacked hands. The gold in his eyes barely visible around blown-out pupils. She felt tiny, every inch of height difference on display with him so close, her neck aching from the stretch of meeting his eyes. Her core ached from the desire she saw there. “My control is hanging by a thread. And I would not have you around me right now, Inquisitor. Please, find your way to your quarters, and come find me in the morning. I will apologize for my deplorable behavior, and perhaps we can discuss further.” His hand rose to press his heavy thumb to her lower lip. She thought about disobeying. But this was Cullen. Cullen, who deserved better. Cullen, who was desperately clinging to being a better man. So she briefly pressed a kiss into his thumb and turned her heel, all but running to her quarters. But the image of Cullen, shirtless and frozen with grace, wouldn’t leave her mind.
Ellana kicked off the covers, and stood, pacing, trying to distract herself. She told herself to think of Haven, maybe the tragedy could finally cool her ardor. But Haven had it's own heady memories. Instead, she was caught in the memory of the first time Cullen had drawn such a response from her body. She was hidden behind a pillar in the Chantry, Vivienne next to her and signing for her to be quiet. “You can learn a great deal by simply listening in, my darling.” Of course, it wasn’t hard to hear Cullen and Roderick once again at each other’s throats. It was, by then, a common occurrence. Roderick had raged. “I cannot allow it to continue! Allow for that thing to be raised in Andraste’s name! A knife-eared, useless, heretical bitch! With no sense of decorum, of propriety! She doesn’t even deign to travel with a chaperone, likely letting whoever desires to warm her-”
She’d heard it before. Knew the idea that elves, especially Dalish, were morally depraved. Had heard it mentioned more than once in whispers. It was a new low for Roderick, however. One that Cullen didn’t let go unanswered. A peak around her column showed that Cullen had stepped up to the chantry brother, his hand fisted in the smaller man’s robes. “Speak about her like that again, I dare you.”
“You’re just another drug under her spell-”
Cullen shook him and Roderick squeaked. “Like it or not, she is the only one who can help, and she is doing it well. Show her some fucking respect.”
Ellana had never heard Cullen properly swear, much less growl out the word. Her throat had caught, her smalls were drenched. Vivienne had simply raised a single well-arched brow.
What Ellana hadn’t realized then, was it was more than the protectiveness, more than the twisting of her core his tone had caused, that she was reacting to. He was a good man, an honorable man, and something within her couldn’t help but respond to it. As she wore a new tread on the stone floor of her room, the images and moments took over her mind.
Cullen, helping lift a fallen beam off a worker as reconstruction at Skyhold started. It had been a chaotic moment, the dwarven worker slipped on a patch of mud, but his fall had caused a cataclysm of falling equipment, leading to a massive timber landing over his chest. She had been watching from a distance, talking over repairs with Gatsi and Josephine, and the damnable mud had squelched underfoot as she rushed over. Before she could get there though, Cullen had already jumped into action, adrenaline and exertion turning his face red as he held the beam up long enough for others to yank the dwarf out. When Cullen dropped the beam, it felt like the world shook underfoot. He met her slack-jawed expression and impossibly turned redder.
Cullen, a soft expression as she cupped his cheek and asked, “What do you want?” His lyrium-withdrawal torturing him then as it had earlier tonight. The paraphernalia shattered and scattered under their feet. There was wonder in his gaze, shock that that was what mattered to her at this moment. Not his secret-keeping, not his doubts. The fact that she might value what he wants. More than the lyrium, that look told her more about his past, about his environment, than words ever could.
Cullen, laughing with his men, sharing drinks with Rylen at the Herald’s Rest. She had rarely seen him this relaxed, this joyous. The bulk of their forces freshly returned from Adamant. Rylen finished a story, and Cullen had thrown his head back in laughter. He looked alive, vibrant, and glowing golden. The men had toasted him, and Cullen hadn’t brushed it off, hadn’t performed modesty. He took his men’s support, their faith in him, and his leadership, and turned it into something they could take pride in. He caught her watching him from the second story and tilted his mug to her, his silent echoing proclamation of faith in her.
A flurry of moments tore through Ellana’s mind and she knew she had long ago fallen in love with her Commander, that he likely loved her too, or was at least following her off the cliff shortly. But that did nothing for the need that was aching in her, the need she couldn’t do anything to relieve. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when dawn crested over the edge of the mountains. Her body felt every one of the sleepless hours. She should give Cullen space, a chance to recover from what was surely a hellish night of his own. But when she stepped out on the balcony, wrapping herself in a silken robe, begging the sun to shake clear her mind, a flash of red on much lower battlements caught her eye. Cullen seemed to smile a little when he realized he had her attention once again and waved. Ellana didn’t think twice before she waved back, but in the way that told him to come here. Come to her. His head tilted quizzically and she repeated the gesture broadly.
The knock at her door came only a few moments later.
The lack of shadows under his eyes told her that Cullen had not only managed to find some rest but had shaken the worst of his withdrawal off not long after they separated. He was back in his normal garb, his hair carefully rearranged. Ellana could pull up the image from last night just as clearly as the one before her though. He was breathless stepping into the tiny landing behind her door, before the stairs. “Inquisitor… about last night-” He choked on his words when he suddenly realized she was only wearing the silk robe.
Ellana felt her sleepless night in the lack of restraint in her response. “I believe I saw you in much less last night, Commander.”
His voice was still tight. “Yes, well. I believe that's one of many things I need to apologize for-”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Inquis-
“Please… Ellana. Call me Ellana.” This time she closed the distance. He closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. “Cullen,” his breath hitched again when she used his name, “I meant what I said last night about caring about you- and if you- I mean, I was wondering if you might-”
“If I might- Ellana, I do, I mean of course I do, last night I was almost… I was moments from-”
“From….?”
“From showing you exactly how I feel about you.”
“I wanted you to.”
“You wouldn’t have- Not the way I was, I wasn’t in my right mind.”
“And are you now?”
“Now?”
“In your right mind.”
Like her words unleashed a floodgate, he surged onto her. Cullen was everywhere, all at once. The smell of his leather armor, of the strong tea he drank, of that masculine and rich scent that was just him surrounded her. His hands did, too, tenderly crushing her to him. Every touch was a contradiction, treasuring her and desperate for her. His hand came around her neck, holding her steady for his all-consuming kiss, just the right level of pressure. One leg slid between hers, not enough to provide pressure where her desire surged anew, but steading. After a moment of surprise, Ellana’s hands tangled into his hair, something she had longed to do so long she couldn’t remember where it started.
When Cullen paused, barely separating from her, she whined. He chuckled. “I’m not sure if that means I’m in my right mind or not.”
“Do you want to wait until you’re sure?” She didn’t want to wait, didn’t want to untangle from him and walk away. But it would be worse if he regretted any detail about this, about her.
He shook his head. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, that is, as long as you are. If you need to wait-“
She kissed him in the middle of his rambling, tracing the seam of his mouth with her tongue. The taste of him when he acquiesced set her body on fire. Instead of answering him verbally, Ellana untangled her hands from Cullen’s hair and instead found the rough knot on the sash of her robe and untied it, shimmying her shoulders until the lux fabric pooled around their feet. Cullen’s groan was like the best alcohol, fuzzying her head. “Maker’s Breath, Ellana.”
Her name had never sounded better.
He scooped her into his arms, the cool metal of his plate biting her hot skin. She took the opportunity to press her lips to his jaw, his neck, to suck his earlobe in between her teeth. She had no concerns about him dropping her on the stairs, and just needed more more more. She had waited long enough, pined long enough for her commander. He laid her down on her bed, where the sheets were still in total disarray, and stepped back. Ellana thought of protesting and then saw he was frantically working on the latches of his armor. She was rising, reaching to help, but Cullen held up a hand in pause. “No… let me look at you. You’re so beautiful.”
Ellana settled back, hopefully laying herself in an enticing way, and watched herself. Watched his eyes roving over every inch of her body, lingering on her peaked nipples, the thatch of curls between her legs. She watched his soldier’s efficiency and trained hand rapidly unclasping the latches on his armor, shedding it in a pile on the floor. The little twitches of his fingers, the control in hands she could only describe as elegant, had her thinking, wishing for those hands on her body. Under a searing gaze, Ellana began trailing on hand down her stomach and into her curls. Cullen swore again, and almost tore his last piece of metal plate, his breastplate, from himself. “Andraste’s fire… yes, Ellana.”
Free of armor, but still mostly clothed, Cullen seemed to lose patience. He crawled onto the bed and over her, not putting an ounce of weight over her nor disrupting the lazy stroking pace she had taken on her own slit. He kissed her again, one hand sliding down the edges of her body. “More,” Ellana groaned. He chuckled a little but obeyed, taking her breast in hand and circling her nipple with his thumb. It wasn’t enough, but now his tongue was sliding in her mouth, taking control. Ellana threw her legs around Cullen’s hips and rolled, settling her soaked core right over his hips and nearly cumming just from the damned pressure of it all. “I have wanted you since Haven, Cullen. I have been up all night with the thought of you. Please, please, stop teasing me and take me.”
Whether it was the desperation in her voice or the simple fact that she was begging for him, Cullen’s jaw fell in shock, but lusty approval filled his eyes. Finally, finally, finally he touched her, felt her wetness, her readiness. His breath hitched. “Fuc- Maker’s breath.” A million thoughts crossed his mind, but only one question passed his scarred lips. “Since Haven?”
“Since you swore at Roderick.”
“I thought I saw someone sneaking around.” He rolled his hips, pressing his thick length harder against her. His pants would be absolutely ruined. He wouldn’t be able to walk out of her room without being exposed. She didn’t care. “Next time… next time I get to take my time. Next time, I will explore every inch of you, find every tender spot and hear all the lovely sounds you make.”
There was no question that there would be a next time. Ellana nodded, and then started shoving at his thin shirt, wanting to run her hands over his muscle, through the fine layer of golden brown chest hair, just a shade darker than his curls. He surged upwards, letting her divest him of the offending garment and allowing himself the ability to kiss her more, more, more, her breath gone, her control gone. Despite his promise to explore next time, his lips still began tracing her collarbone and shoulders, his hands around her clutching her to him desperately.
Ellana was going to explode, combust, with need if he didn’t fuck her. She found the laces on his pants and loosened them just enough to shove them down far enough to gain access to her prize. She had her own planned exploration, to find every spot that made him swear, to learn how hard he liked to be gripped, if he liked licking or sucking better. But for now, she held him just long enough to align his heavy cock with her aching entrance. Cullen’s hand fell to the small of her back and applied pressure, both of them steering the steady slide of her down his length, until he bottomed out, just deep enough to be painful.
It was heaven. It was hell. It was everything and too much. And Cullen was trembling. It was an embarrassing amount of effort to gather herself, to tilt his chin up so she could meet his eyes. “Is it… Should we stop?” She was foolish. She saw him last night, should have known he needed more rest, an easy day without such pressure-
“That’s the last thing I want. Do you-”
Ellana rolled her hips, gliding along his length and making them both groan. “Never.” Cullen let her continue to set the rhythm, sporadically flexing his hips to drive a thrust harder deeper, but he primarily focused on kissing her neck, shoulders, only dipping to her breasts after she felt him suck a love bite onto her collarbone. Her night of desperation had kept her on the edge long enough it didn’t take her long to find her peak, and as she came, his name on her tongue and her nails curling into his skin, Cullen rolled them back over. He kissed her through the aftershock, murmuring in her ear. “So beautiful, so fucking beautiful.” But the moment her cunt loosened its vice-like grip, he drove into her.
“Fuck, yes. Cullen!”
He was so powerful, so strong, Everything that she had fantasized about for months. And he was also the kind, considerate man she’d fallen in love with. The roll of his hips spoke to his grace before the training dummies last night. The precision of his finger’s between them had shown as he stripped his armor for her. Sex with Cullen, making love or fucking or somewhere in between, was a showcase of every detail that had wound her tighter and tighter. Including that growling, dirty mouth.
“So, fucking good. Taking my cock so well. Fuck.” His rhythm was beginning to stutter. “Give me one more, Ellana.” And she was so close, her legs tight around his narrow hips, holding him to her. His hand left her nearly raw bud and came up to push on her lower stomach, and that feeling, pressure inside and out, had her tightening around him again. Disgustingly wanton sobs of pleasure filled her room, and Cullen's moans joined in. “Fucking good girl.” She felt empty when he yanked himself out of her, spilling his seed on the floor. A smart call. A conscientious call. It was so Cullen.
She was boneless, floating on air and ecstasy, barely able to watch as he finally shed his pants and then pulled her up onto the bed to lay in his arms. Cullen waited until her mental clarity returned with his lips on her forehead, his hand carding though her tangled hair. With her clarity came a touch of embarrassment for how she had thrown herself at him, and it was hard to force herself to look at him, to talk to him, though laying in his arms was the easiest thing in the world.
“So, that um. That really happened.”
He laughed. “My thoughts precisely.”
Still, he held her, still he stayed. She tried again. “So how long… If it was Haven for me-”
“Longer than I should admit. And last night was closer than I should admit. When you kissed my thumb… I almost followed you up here then.”
“I would have let you in. Let you do whatever you wanted.”
“I wanted to lose myself in you, to use the pleasure of your touch to drive my demons away. This was… I’m glad it happened this way.”
She kissed his Adam's apple, tucking in tighter to him. The sun was high enough in the sky that this peace would end soon. They’d be hunted out, be discovered soon. She wanted to exist in bliss as long as she could. “I’m glad as well. I-” Was it too soon? Should she wait? She threw caution to the wind. “I love you, Cullen.”
She felt him smile against her forehead. “I love you, too.”
As she drifted into sleep finally, she realized the bed no longer felt overly large. Wondered if the stand for his armor, a second set of drawers, was added to her room, if the room would still feel too big. Questions for much, much later.