Her calm observance, that was the second thing that caught my attention. When I had first met her she was the opposite of the only other Dalish apostate I had multiple interactions with. Both were polite, but where Merrill had been talkative and filled with wonder, she was quiet observance.
She was under the guard of Seeker Pentaghast, yet displayed no open hostility or fear, she just was. That continued on and she agreed to help with her every fiber to seal the breach. I had expected her to only interact with Solas. Them being both mages and, at the time, I thought both Dalish.. After that, it came to no surprise when I found her discussing and debating such things as magic and the fade with him. Though I will, admit I was surprised when I found her discussing Orlesian nobility and court with Josephine, chantry information with Leliana and , questions of the seekers with Cassandra. And I was completely caught off guard when she approached me to watch the soldiers during training and peppered me with questions regarding the routines.
The third thing that caught my attention was her anger. She had sealed the breach and had been talking to the seeker about being returned to her clan. Then Corephyus showed up with that Dragon of his, and I had to leave her, we all left her there in Haven, on her own. And then I found her unconscious in the snow, barely breathing, and half near frozen to death.
Shortly thereafter; we arrived at Skyhold, a sprawling fortress in the snow covered mountain ranges extending high sky. She stood across from us at the war table and I kept my hand on my sword. I was aware that she was a mage and with her knowledge she was aware that I was an ex- Templar and what a Templar was. Through clenched teeth and lips curled in disgust she give a detailed account of what had occurred with Corephyus back at Haven. Her nervous bitten nails scrapped at the palms of her hands as she hissed the tale . Those bronze eyes, observing eyes, molten lava.
"How dare he! Elves, humans, dwarves! We all live in Thedas and he thinks he can just waltz in here and we'll all take to our knees! People have died because of his absurd ideas! We will stop him!" her hands slammed into the table "I don't know if this Corephyus is actually a god or some delusional darkspawn, I don't really care! if he thinks of the people of Thedas are gonna go down without a fight he's in for a rude awakening! Dread wolf take him!" She was furious, but not, how should I say, uncontained. I could feel my hand lessen its grip on my sword as she continued her rant to the liana Josephine. For some reason, despite being a dangerous mage, I felt no fear for her becoming an abomination. I didn't sense the telltale signs.
The fourth thing I noticed was her laughter. One night when I was walking back from the war room: planning troop movements to find her and Varric the main hall. Varric was propped in a chair waving around a tankard, obviously slightly past intoxicated as he talked while chuckling. I distinctly heard the names Blondie and Isabella. It wasn't the stories interviewing my own past that stopped me in my tracks. Not in a chair, but the inquisitor perched upon the edge of the table, legs folded beneath her. Long fingers wrapped around a softly steaming teacup as she listened with rapt attention. Her eyes were wide and mouth open. Varric had obviously gotten to the highlights of his story, because she burst into laughter. It was none of that bell tinkling, laughter of Angels nonsense that came from the books my sisters read. No, it was a laughter that came deep from her belly, head thrown back her hand covering her mouth as she snorted, sending the dwarf into his own round of laughter.
"Oy! Curly! Come over here! I am telling stories of Hawke and the gang" he grinned at me and I couldn't help but look at her. She had moved to lean back on one hand, peering over her shoulder at me. One of her eyes had been covered by the brown hair she had finally let down curling over her shoulders, creating shadows.. The slight crinkle to her eyes and ever so slight shake to her body told me her amusement had yet passed, she didn't say anything. Just simply observed. I had to decline.
Enter the fifth thing I noticed, her shyness. She asked for a chance to speak alone. The weather was brilliant, I suggested a walk in the battlements. I wasn't sure what she wanted and when she began speaking of mages, asking if I could ever see her do anything else beside the mage I was startled. I had not seen that one coming. I can still remember the foolish way that I fumbled over my words, trying to reassure her that I did in fact see her as more than a mage. It was that afternoon, the first time I cursed my aptitude for efficiency, and the dedication of the Leliana's men had to her and her orders. I'd been so close, her quick breath hot against my own, the sound of cloth against iron as her cloth covered breasts brushed against the breastplate of my armor. One of the scouts appeared out of nowhere, a packet of reports that five minutes ago I had been impatiently waiting for. The man didn't even look up from the report as he continued walking and talking. I thought I was going to have to break his jaw. When he did look up he froze, eyes flickering between the Inquisitor and I. The horror on his face, he knew what was going to happen as he stared at me. He was going to die.
At that point I turned away, watching her fidget I can hear this and. I vaguely remember her ramblings of my return to my work. To the fade with that. There was the brief moment of wondering that my hasty grip on her body hurt, maybe left bruises, but the concern didn't last long. The give of her lips beneath my own coupled with her surprise was a thrill. She hardly seem to know to do with her hands. That had been a vein of fear, worry that I was forcing myself upon her. Then when fingers, calloused by a mages staff gripped and didn't push I temporarily considered death by suffocation. Any besides letting go of her mouth, especially after so many months of fumbling. She uttered soft moans and it was nearly my undoing. I had the pullback for air to center myself. The pressure in my groin had made itself more than now. I needed to make sure I thought with the right head. I remember we talked then, something, for the Maker I cannot remember. With a furtive, half-lidded glance she had me at her beck and call. The stroke of her tongue over my mouth had me pressing her against the stone of the battlements. I honestly couldn't tell you if it was the sun beating down on pauldron and armor or the fire she had ignited deep in my body, but I was burning, sweating profusely.
The sixth thing I had noticed was her concern for people. I knew Leliana was upset over the loss of her men, but I didn't know what to say. As a Templar and a soldier, the loss of men in arms was something I was quite accustomed to, not that it made it any easier mind you, but it was disgustingly, normal. I had been on my way to check on the spymaster when I heard the inquisitor's voice. I was surprised. The last I heard she was on a task to aid Viviane and attend the bedside of the mages loved one. I did not think she would be back. Much less, be up far past sundown and speaking to Leliana. I was not yet close enough to make out their words, but tones, was something I've been taught to discern during my Templar training. The spymaster spoke clipped, heavy and guilt soaked words, while the inquisitor's voice soothing and slow. It seemed that my concern was not needed. Then, two hours later, I found myself heading to the kitchens for something to drink when I saw the inquisitor on a parallel battlement speaking with Cole. The spirit was alternating between waving his hands about and ringing his hat like a rag. The discomfort and stress obvious even from that distance. I watched as she placed her hands on his shoulders, mouth moving slowly as she reached up to brush beings from his eyes. She was consoling him to. I found myself quickly reminded of when she had found me during one of my fits of lyrium withdrawal. She'd been concerned, concerned and beautiful.
Then, and, there was the,… Yeah there was the seventh thing I noticed. Her responses. Now, I, I, had of course noticed how she responded to things prior. You do when you interact with someone. But this is different.
How responsive the inquisitor was, when she writhed beneath me on my desk.
Brown hair splayed out were moments ago there had been paper. Bronze eyes darkened with the most basic of desires. Her lips, ever so slightly swollen, moving as she uttered deep moans, and sharp cries as my hips worked on hers. She cried words of Dalish, that I still don't know, nails scraping, a frenzied attempt to gain purchase against wood. Not a single part of her body still. Her head tossed back and forth as she shuddered and sobbed, begging for me to make her come. Her shoulders tense and relaxed in turn with the inevitable arch of her back. Her breasts, one word, sinful. They bounced with every hard thrust of my hips into hers. It was pleasure threefold; the bounce of her breasts, the feel of being buried to the hilt in a hot vice grip and her pleas, begs of continuation. At this point she whimpered in pain and pleasure as I thumbed her nipple. "C-Cullen" her voice practically a sob, fingers clutching at my shoulders.
"Kiss me" I had commanded and her response had been feverish, presses and nips against my mouth. Between my tongue in her mouth, the rolling of my fingers against her breast and the stuttering pace of my hips she was writhing, moaning mess. Her thighs, quivering clutched as if I was the only thing keeping her alive. The dig of her heals in my lumbar, silently begging for deeper strokes inside. Her voice, growing breathy and deeper against my mouth as I felt her body tighten beneath mine. The tightening within my own groin had been driving me near insane as I tried to hold back. Patience. She was more important.
The hand that had been toying with her breast I slipped down her body to the apex of her thighs, slipping against the slick between us, rolling that raised- I lost all thoughts as she suddenly seized beneath me. Crying out. That had been my undoing.
"Cullen, Cullen, Cullen" she repeated my name, drunk with pleasure as I continued to slowly thrust into her. The shockwaves sending us each trembling in turn. She whispered tired kisses along my cheekbones as I halted, my body sagging over hers Neither of us willing to part after what we just experienced.
I am just now realizing that in my haste to tell you what I thought about my..the Inquisitor that I started with the second thing that I noticed. Not the first. The first thing I noticed was the most important thing of all. The first thing I noticed was;
Her.