The first thing she noticed was the scar. She caught a glimpse of him after the explosion at the Temple, when Cassandra made quick introductions of sorts. In the midst of the chaos, it was the first thing to stand out about him, followed immediately by the fact that— Oh, Andraste, but he was absolutely gorgeous, and anyone who doubted divine intervention need only to look at that face to convince themselves of the Maker's power.
It was lucky for Trevelyan —or most unluckily, depending on how one looked at it— that he had soldiers to lead and demons to slay and he could only spare a moment with them, else she would have felt compelled to stare at him for hours.
Commander— that was the commander of the men who cleared the path for them earlier.
He had the bearing of a Templar, she could tell, and his initial reaction was one of distrust. His lips curled downwards slightly as he spoke, drawing attention yet again to that wonderfully attractive scar.
Damn, but why hadn't any of the Templars at her Circle been that blessed? That was probably for the best, though, on more careful consideration. No one would have gotten anything done with such a specimen among them. Well, she certainly wouldn't have gotten anything done knowing he was a corridor or so away.
Maker, a man like that was a danger to any poor mage with a taste for men. Fraternizing prohibition be damned, she was pretty sure Tranquillity was worth getting to know that scar a bit better.
He left with a curt farewell, stopping to help along one of his men who had been injured during the battle.
She sighed. She actually sighed, gazing longingly at his back, though he was probably too far away to hear, thanks the Maker.
"Mage, are you with us?" Cassandra snapped, apparently in the middle of crushing some type of Shade with her shield.
When had that happened? How long had she spaced out?
She was thoroughly, utterly ashamed of herself.
The mage had the decency to tense when she noticed shades descend from higher up the mountain. "Burn or freeze or crush one of these damn things already!" Right, Trevelyan hurried to do just that. The Seeker made for a terrifying sight even when she wasn't making demonic dust, after all.
…
...
...
"You've met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's forces." Cassandra said, alerting the mage that she'd been staring since she got in the room.
"It was only for a moment on the field." His rumbling voice stated, and she had to remind herself not to swoon. She was not a teenager anymore, was she? Maker, but she would soon enter her thirties, swooning was absolutely out of the question, no matter how perfect his voice was. "I'm pleased you survived." He smiled, he really smiled. He was also, apparently, pleased. Pleased.
Oh, the things she was willing to do to please the Commander if only he would keep smiling like that-
'No, bad, bad Evelyn— stop undressing him with your eyes, he's going to notice!'
"This is lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat."
Evelyn nodded at whatever the exotic ambassador said, all the while trying not to drool over the one man in the room.
She saw him rub at the stubble on his chin and wanted to groan.
Sweet Andraste, why was he making her life so much harder? She hadn't noticed the stubble until then, and seeing it made her itch to rub her hands and her whole face against his cheeks.
She swallowed.
"And of course you know Sister Leliana."
The sister said something too and was interrupted by Cassandra, which made Commander Cullen's lips twitch.
Evelyn blinked hard and tore her gaze away.
"Pleased to meet you all." Yes, pleased—
Damn, it was going to be harder than she thought.
The Commander turned to address Leliana, and even his profile was unbelievably handsome.
He had his scar facing Trevelyan.
He frowned, pulling the skin taut.
Definitely not going to be easy.
…
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...
It was just preposterous.
Evelyn would have slapped herself over the face if she thought it would help. Somehow, though, she knew it would accomplish nothing. She just couldn't stop staring at his mouth, it was a wonder her brain somehow managed to keep up with the conversation, since the rest of her was intensely focused on other things.
He gave her a quick smile over his shoulder, melting her completely.
She bit down hard on her own lip and watched him effortlessly manage the recruits, scouts running around with reports and herself trailing behind him.
Evelyn was so lucky he was too busy to notice her fascination with his face. She tried to contribute to the conversation more in case she was as obvious she thought she was.
"The Conclave destroyed, a giant hole in the sky- things aren't looking good." His mouth did, though.
She would have certainly not minded inspecting it up close and personal. Or, better yet, she would have not have minded that mouth exploring her up close and personal.
Kisses around her chin, her collarbone, hipbones, his stubble trailing after his lips, leaving marks on her skin…
"Which is exactly why-" She wasn't really paying attention, though he probably deserved at least that much.
She was a bit too preoccupied for human decency, though. Those sinful lips— she could just imagine them nip and taste and do unspeakable things to her body and her sanity. The woman definitely had a problem, though an infatuation might have been a better word for it.
"Forgive me, I doubt you came here for a lecture." Damn, he must have interpreted her blank expression as a result of boredom.
She quickly smiled and tried to salvage the situation.
"No, but if you have one prepared, I'd love to hear it."
Maker, no, had she actually said that?
Evelyn, much to her dismay, felt her cheeks go up in flames.
She was pretty sure that her words came out much too breathy and much less charming than she intended.
No, no, no-
He laughed. She'd managed to make him laugh, no matter how briefly.
'Maker, does he have a marvellous mouth, and smile, and that laugh-'
"Another time, perhaps."
She just smiled wide like a fool.
…
She was hooked.
She knew it, Leliana knew it— though, admittedly, there were few things she didn't know—, Varric knew it. Almost everyone knew it, honestly, though thankfully the Commander himself did not seem to find her behaviour suspicious.
She visited him almost daily near the tents, always with a handful of questions ready for him. Well, he had said she could come to him if she ever had any questions he could answer, and she never took more than half an hour of his time.
She just needed to get her fix— it wasn't that strange that she needed to stare at the most handsome example of ex-Templar she had ever seen, was it? She was sure many women could agree with her on that after just a look at Cullen. No, they wouldn't even need to see more than the lower half of his face, even then they would understand.
His mouth was the most recent protagonist of her best dreams, alongside his voice and hands.
Sometime she wondered how exactly it was possible for her to be so completely ensnared by someone that way.
She had been a Senior Enchanter in the Circle, after all, she'd turned down desire demons with ease since before she could remember, for Andraste's sake!
Then she saw him again and her knees went soft.
Damn it.
…
...
...
The attack on Haven was the stuff of nightmares.
There was an Archdemon laying siege to the town— an Archdemon!
She barely made it inside the Chantry with Varric and a few other people that they managed to save from the razed houses.
Chancellor Roderick gave them a way to safely get the civilians and the forces out, but she knew she could not risk escape with them, not when the so-called Elder One wanted her, and her alone.
She hardened her expression and let Cullen lead the others out of harm's way.
"But what of your escape?" He was concerned, at least a little bit, his lips drawn together in a hard line.
It was a shame, really, that she couldn't summon the courage to grab him by the back of his neck and taste that beautiful mouth with the chancellor so close, and so obviously close to dying.
A real shame, considering she was probably about to die he might have even allowed it.
She put her disappointment aside and nodded at the men around her, walking out to face her destiny.
…
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...
She became Inquisitor.
Somehow, she knew she was probably not as honoured or proud as she should be about it, but at least she didn't complain.
No matter how Josephine gushed about the importance and prestige of such a position though, she would never convince the mage the new title was more than another way to dump responsibility on Evelyn's shoulders. Not only did she still have to run her arse off and risk her health and her life to close Breaches and deal with rogue Templars and mad apostates, but she also needed to put on a brave, confident front, make public attendances and worry about dress code. Maker forbid the Inquisitor was seen with her face or robes dirty outside of combat! It would make the Inquisition lose a fancy Comte's favour, his military and economical aid; it would get people killed and hungry, and she could have prevented it all if she only she'd remembered to behave—gasp, what a monster!
The role of serious, strong figurehead didn't really suit the mage, but she'd be damned if she wouldn't be great at it, if only for the sake of everyone blindly putting their faith in her.
Playing nice and keeping a straight face was what she'd been taught to do in the Circle, anyway, and it was a reasonably easy thing to do. Nod, smile, pay attention, be patient and insightful. She could pull it of marvellously most the time. She was a good mage; good mages exercised control in everything they did.
She never had trouble with that before.
Except when Cullen was around.
Through all of it, she still drooled like a perverted apprentice whenever he was in the vicinity. He was her advisor, the commander of her army and still the most popular protagonist of her perverted fantasies.
Sometimes she wondered if she should raise his pay; he served so many functions, after all. It would raise too many questions if she showed such blatant favouritism however, so she refrained.
Maker, though, she felt that such a divine piece of craftsmanship as his face deserved some kind of recognition and she was really, really tempted to offer him some rewards someone in her position should never contemplate giving.
"Inquisitor?" He cleared his throat in the middle of giving a report on the situation in the Hinderlands. "It there something on your mind?"
Something always was— nothing fit for proper conversation when she saw him, usually.
Evelyn swallowed her perverted thought. "No. It's just this weather- dreadfully humid, really." Right, blame it on the weather.
'Very original, Evelyn.'
Cullen relaxed his frown. "Give it a few days; the frigid cold will be back in no time." His eyes flicked quickly to the paperwork still in his hand.
"Perhaps we should continue another time? Things have settled down for the time and I'm sure would benefit from a few hours to yourself." He offered kindly.
She chewed on her bottom lip, biting back a groan at how perfect and considerate he was. Could the man be any more tempting? Wasn't it enough that he had the most exquisite voice, a drool-worthy jaw and a smile capable of making her spontaneously combust?
Just the other day she'd had the most interesting dream involving the ex-Templar kissing and licking and exploring every nook and cranny of her body with that pink tongue of his. She'd had the occasion to see him use it to clean his finger once during dinner-time back in Haven, which was probably not good for her health.
He had eaten some dessert, something with cream, and— Dear Maker, that was definitely not something she should reminisce about outside her chambers.
She nervously licked her lips, already hot in places she should not be hot in public, and especially not in the Commander's study, where anyone could walk on at any time.
"Inquisitor?" Again with that frown, the one that drew attention to the scar she so desperately wanted to kiss.
Damn, damn, damn— she was so hopelessly attracted to him it was a wonder he hadn't seen her for the dirty, wanton thing she admittedly was.
"Excellent idea, Commander." She choked out and hurriedly made her exit.
She would indeed benefit from some time alone, she realised with a blush.
Damn that mouth, damn that scar, but bless the man in all his adorable obliviousness.
…
...
...
"You know, you could at least try not to let your mouth ajar like that, a fly might fly in."
The Inquisitor quickly snapped her mouth close, realising she had been embarrassingly close to drooling.
"Dorian." She nodded, rubbing at her cheeks to will away the heat in them. "Didn't see you there."
The mage snorted, placing one hand on his hip. "I doubt you would have noticed if the late Divine appeared behind you." He declared snootily, though she sincerely doubted she had offended him.
"I can't really blame you, though-" He smile that sinful smile of his. "- I have to say, you have good taste in men." His gaze very pointedly went to the scene she'd been distracted by. One floor down Commander Cullen was instructing the new recruits, his bulk of armour for once replaced by more fitting clothes, appropriate for training. "A strapping young Templar you have there."
Evelyn choked in her rush to give an explanation, much to her friend's amusement.
"Oh, spare me-" he chuckled. "-everyone can see you eye the Commander up like he's made out of lyrium."
"That is-"
She tried to protest, but Dorian was having none of it. "Just let me know when you do manage to get him out of his knickers, I might have a few tricks for you to use later." He winked and strode away, leaving her with her red cheeks and Cullen's voice barking orders from down on the training grounds.
"Faster, you have to do it faster! It's a fluid motion, push and pull… Don't make me come there and show you how it's done!"
Maker, why did he have to say things like that? She rose on shaky legs and tried to regain her dignity on her way back to her rooms.
…
...
...
Evelyn recognised she was in grave trouble when Cullen admitted he was fighting his lyrium addiction and she got suddenly jealous of the cursed wooden box on his table. 'The way he looked at that thing…'
She knew it was unhealthy, there he was, sharing something very significant with her, and she-
"I have asked Cassandra to…watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty."
'What?'
Her eyes got wide while her heart started beating out of control. That was not something she wanted to go through. The Inquisition needed him, she needed him. Just knowing he awaited her at Skyhold after each mission, that he was there... she needed that too.
The rest of what he'd said registered before she could make a fool of herself and spill that out.
"Are you in pain?"- because that was much more important than her problems. The last thing she wanted was for anything unfortunate to happen to him.
"I can endure it." His tone was grim, decided, but she notices the tight lines that formed around his mouth. She had stared too much at it not to.
It twisted something inside her to know what he was going through, but something else grew in her chest, warm and powerful. Pride, affection— she understood what he was trying to do, and it made her admire him even more.
"Thank you for telling me, I respect what you're doing."
The sharpness of his expression softened, and she had to place her hands behind her back not to reach out for him, the beautiful, absolutely gorgeous man in every aspect of the word.
"Thank you, Inquisitor.'
She was tempted to kiss him just for the way he spoke her title, relevantly, like a caress.
"The inquisition's army must always take priority." He continued, straightening his posture. "Should anything happen… I will defer to Cassandra's judgement."
Like the Fade she was going to stand by and allow that to happen. She stood her ground, said nothing, but lovingly admired the strong set of his mouth and his will to overcome his addiction.
It was decided: she needed to do something for the Commander if it was the last thing she did, but what would help?
Her mind readily provided suggestions, some probably outrageous enough to make even the Iron Bull blush.
…
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...
A month or so and a few chess matches later, she finally summoned the courage to do something about her infatuation with the Commander.
He seemed surprised and even a little alarmed when she asked they speak alone, which did not do much for her nerves, but she was not the kind of person to let herself be intimidated by it. She controlled her breathing and followed him out onto the battlements.
"It's a nice day." He said, which in her state, nervous and worried and just trying to calm down and act as the level-headed adult she was, startled her.
"What?"
"It's…there was something you wished to discuss?"
She wished to do more than discuss things with him, but first she needed to get a hold of herself and get out in the open how she felt about him. So she just did it, words stumbling out of her mouth before she could think them, before she could take them back.
"Cullen, I care about you, and-" She froze, stopped, sighed. She was doing it all wrong. The mighty Herald of Andraste, and she could not even own up to her feeling and convey them properly because of her doubts.
Maker, what he must think of her.
"What's wrong?" he sounded concerned, but no appalled, and he had not run away yet, so she tried again.
"You left the Templars, but do you trust mages?" His eyes widened, his delicious lips parting to for an 'O' in understanding. "Could you think of me as anything more?"
It was his turn to stumble next. "I could. I mean, I do...think of you." Her heart hummed loudly in her chest, and she was tempted to smile.
He moved a hand to his temple, apparently frustrated with himself. "And what I might say in this kind of situation."
She urged him on, warmth blooming under her skin as he got closer.
"You're the Inquisitor…I didn't think it was possible." She could tell from the look on his eyes he could not yet believe they were there, even having the conversation.
His eyes, though, were also brimming with warmth and happiness and hope.
That time she did smile. She could work with that, she could definitely work with that.
"I am here." She breathed out, moving closer too, helpless to resist. That mouth she'd fantasized so much about was within her reach, but she was scared to rush to claim it, watching him closely.
"So you are… It seems too much to ask." He pulled her by the waist, leaned in, and she could smell the leather of his armour and something else, something strong and delicious.
Oh, Maker let him kiss her before she swooned...
"Commander?"
They froze and Cullen pulled away— and she wanted to weep and go into a fuss, but she admirably restrained herself.
"What?"
Was it strange that she found his anger extremely attractive? She didn't think so. His clenched, tensed shoulders and the growl in his voice were sure to make an appearance in her next dream involving the Commander, she could just tell.
"Sister Leliana's report. You wanted it delivered to you without delay."
Evelyn turned her head away, embarrassed to be seen blushing by the scout just after his commanding officer had almost kissed her. She so hoped that image of her would not make it into the history books, or Varric's ears.
The poor scout took one look at the inquisitor and tow looks at Commander Cullen and slowly, and wisely, retreated.
"Or…to your desk…right."
He made a run for it as soon as he could, and Evelyn would have found it hilarious, had she been in any other situation.
Cullen's face still told of great anger, and she almost pitied the fleeing man.
"If you need to-" She was ready to offer him a way out of the awkward situation, resigned in the knowledge that the moment had passed, but Cullen had other ideas.
She gasped when he suddenly kissed her, startled but not at all displeased. She took just a moment to celebrate what she considered a great victory before kissing him back, delighting in how his stubble rubbed against her face.
She had done it, she had somehow made him volunteer to kiss her, and she was pretty sure she was not in the Fade that time.
"Sorry…That was…um…really nice."
"Perfect." She corrected. "That was perfect."
"Oh." She grinned, feeling more blissful that she ever had, and he smiled in return. "Good." He concluded.
She claimed his offered mouth a second time.
Not good.
Perfect.
…
Cullen's lips curled in that way that first made her want to throw herself at his feet, for not really believing her.
"My mouth?"
The Inquisitor nodded, a hand in his incredibly thick hair. "Most often."
Her lover shook his head and leaned forward in his chair, pulling Evelyn with him, as she was draped over his back. He gave her a puzzled look over his shoulder.
"You fantasized about my mouth?" His disbelief was amusing, for some reason, and she laughed.
"All the time."
He furrowed his brows and turned his head to face her properly. "Since when?"
She pretended to take a moment to think about it before answering. "Since I first saw you on that mountain, silly." She whispered deviously in his ear, enjoying in the way her voice made his shiver.
For a moment more he was still, before his eyes widened most comically.
"You- I…" He stammered, something she could not say she witnessed before.
It was adorable, though she would not say it, if only for the sake of his pride.
"Really?"
She nodded with a hum, setting to work on massaging his neck and scalp.
"Oh." His said softly and swallowed.
She laughed and captured that damn tempting mouth, already thinking of way of how to later put it to better use.
She had more than enough ideas, after all.