This fic is silly, has a ridiculous trope (body swap!), but was tons of fun to write. I wanted to make it far raunchier, but it ended up becoming something kinda fluffy (smuffy?). It was my entry for a Badfic challenge and I thought I'd never post it. But here it is. It's also already finished, so I'll be updating regularly, as I edit chapters and gently talk myself into surrendering any hopes of ever winning a Pulitzer.
"Jim the Skyhold Sex Machine" appears here with the blessings of RedHawkeRevolver, of "Calendar Boys" fame.
1: The Mishap
Private Jim crossed Skyhold's upper courtyard with a spring in his step: the sergeant had accosted him after dinner with a message and orders.
"Private, Nightingale wants to have a word with you. Said to tell you it was urgent and to meet her at the rookery at once."
"Yes, Ser!" he saluted. "Right away!"
He crossed the bustling Main Hall and slipped down one of the side doors up a set of stairs, bounding up past the library, finally emerging in the dark and quiet rookery. At that time of the evening, the room was left eerily deserted. Large metal cages dangled from chains; ravens roosted on their perches, heads tucked under their wings. He followed the only source of light in the room—a small alcove illuminated by votive candles.
Kneeling before a golden statue of Andraste was Nightingale, in profound contemplation.
"Sister Leliana." He approached her reverently.
She did not acknowledge his presence.
"Sergeant Marchand said you wanted a word with me?" he continued.
She finally turned her head to the side.
Jim knelt behind her and pretended to pray as well. He surreptitiously raised his eyes at the devout figure before him, admiring her straight and graceful back that curved into the temptingly round fullness of her very shapely bottom. He remained in devout contemplation of that bounty before growing restless. He sidled up to her and tentatively slipped his hands around her hips. At his touch, Leliana backed into him, pushing that delectable bottom against his groin. That was all he needed for his erection to begin throbbing against his uniform's pants. He clasped her closely.
"I bet I know what that word is," he whispered suggestively in her ear. "It's 'dick', isn't it?" he grinned.
She laughed lightly.
"By Andraste, Jim! Did you come up with that all on your own?" she teased in that Orlesian accent that drove him wild.
"What?" he protested, somewhat insulted. "I thought it was pretty clever."
She nestled against him, letting her hand slide back to rub over the bulge in his pants. He hissed and she smiled.
"I am so glad you were not otherwise engaged. I really needed this tonight."
Jim bit and kissed her neck lightly, kneading her soft, luscious breasts. She purred contentedly under his expert ministrations.
He cast a glance at the golden statue.
"Can we please do it right here this time?" he pleaded.
Leliana stiffened.
"What? No…" she stated, suddenly pulling away. "I…It's…That's too much," she censured him.
Far from being deflated by any sense of shame, he found himself getting hornier. The thought of doing all kinds of perverted things with the sexy spymaster in front of the statue of Andraste was his number one fantasy. One she kept reprimanding him for. He wondered if she knew how crazy it drove him.
"Let's go into the back room," she indicated with a tilt of her head, standing up and tugging his hand.
"Can you at least recite the Chant of Light while we do it?" he asked weakly, looking down at himself, his poor cock straining against the fabric of his unattractive scout's uniform. One time she'd been so excited she'd wantonly launched into reciting the names of all the Divines since Andraste. Just the memory of her panting breathlessly while uttering, "Oh, by Divine Victoria's grace! Mmm, Divine Renata preserve me!" made his breath hitch.
"What you suggested is very inappropriate," she scolded him provocatively, heading towards the small back room.
He arched an eyebrow.
Chant of Light or not he knew she would be crying out to the Maker before they were done. He scampered to his feet, following her around the corner, eager to tear her clothes off, bend her over the edge of the bed, and hear her make all those adorable little excited whimpers as he happily pumped away. He had enjoyed having sex with many women at Skyhold, but his trysts with Sister Leliana…Those were always divine.
Jim was pleased with himself as he sauntered down the stairs from the rookery with a confident swagger and smug grin.
Mission accomplished, he thought, making his way back towards the Main Hall.
He'd left his delicious spymaster in an exhausted slumber. It gave him a thrill to smell her scent on his skin and her taste lingering in his mouth as he went about his business in the fortress.
He was lost in a lighthearted daze, floating through the hallway oblivious to his immediate surroundings.
She just feels so good, he sighed, biting his lip, already wishing he could turn back up those stairs and awaken her with a firm slap to that bottom of hers to announce the beginning of round 3. He loved it when she sent for him, he loved how she teased him and how she responded to him, and loved how she just melted at his touch, and he just loved her, he grinned goofily—
Wait, what?
He stopped right in the middle of the hallway, struck by what his thoughts had revealed to him.
Love? What the fuck, Jim! he gripped his head.
Unfortunately, in his dither he'd failed to notice he had halted right in the pathway of two other people hurriedly walking down the same corridor, in opposite directions, blocking their way unexpectedly and causing a clumsy collision among them.
"Private!" he recognized Commander Cullen's harsh tone just as something bright green and viscous spilled over him.
"Commander!" he replied dutifully.
"Oh, Blight!" a woman's low voice growled as glass shattered nearby on the ground.
When Jim looked up, he found he and Commander Cullen covered in a gooey substance, as if a dragon had sneezed a load of snot on them. They examined each other with a perplexed stare. Whatever it was, it had a cloying, sweet odor that overpowered him, causing him to stagger backwards and his eyes to roll back and flutter shut.
He tried to catch himself, but found that his balance was completely off.
When he opened his eyes again, sitting with her legs sprawled out on the floor and glaring up at them crossly was the dark haired, green eyed sorceress the Inquisitor had been parading about with lately.
"T'is a formidable disaster," she concluded, shaking her head.
"Well, whatever that was, I hope it washes off."
Strange, Jim thought woozily. Did I just say that?
"I can find someone to clean it up," Jim offered.
Huh? Were he and Cullen talking at the same time?
"Excuse me, Commander," he uttered. But instead of his voice, he only heard Cullen's.
The room was reeling and by the time he was able to focus his gaze, the sorceress was looking at the two of them with ill-concealed disdain. When he looked at the man standing beside her he saw…himself? It was! With a expression of complete panic on his face.
He couldn't help but laugh.
Ha ha! I am freaking out! Look at me! he snorted.
"I fail to see what is so humorous!" the other Jim retorted. "Morrigan, what in the Fade is going on?"
The sorceress took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her scantily clad chest.
"I have good news and I have bad news. Which one would you prefer first?"
It was at that moment that he turned his head and found his nose buried in a clump of fur over his shoulder.
Wait...
He glanced down at his arms and noticed he was no longer wearing his uniform: he was in armor.
"Commander?" he asked.
Except that the question was the answer. The voice reverberating in his own head was clearly not the voice he was accustomed to hearing.
"The good news is that the formula's effects are temporary."
"What's the bad news?" the other Jim asked apprehensively.
"There is no known antidote. You'll have to wait for the effects to wear off.."
"Morrigan," the very serious Jim continued, "how long are we talking about?"
Morrigan shrugged.
" A day? Two?"
"Maferath's balls!" the other Jim groaned. "What are we supposed to do in the meantime? I have a War Table meeting tomorrow morning!" he complained.
"I do?" Jim wondered bewilderedly staring at the other Jim gesticulating impatiently.
The other Jim's expression clouded.
"You're right…You're right. I am you now, Jim. And you are…me. I don't have a meeting…but YOU do, 'Commander.'"
For a split second, still in the haze of the ill-fated potion's spell, Jim thought that he'd been promoted, until he realized the serious stares both his Commander and the sorceress were casting him.
"We need to inform the others," Jim-Who-Was-Cullen began.
Morrigan grimaced.
"I would rather you didn't."
"Why not?" the real Cullen protested.
"Because…Erm… work on this potion's formula is of a high priority and very sensitive. If word gets out that such an accident occurred, our whole mission might be jeopardized," Morrigan insisted. "I do not need the Inquisitor nixing this…project because of a dumb mishap." She contemplated both men. "A mishap not caused by me, I should add."
"I can't very well let Private Jim here go in my stead to make decisions that affect the well-being of Thedas!" Cullen cried.
Jim was having a hard time keeping a serious face.
I can't believe I look so funny…so…uptight!
"If this project is scrapped, you may be dooming Evelyn to a final battle with Corypheus," she threatened.
Cullen balked, trying to scratch his neck and hitting a cumbersome hood instead.
"It's just for a day or so," Morrigan reasoned. "I'll be at the meeting tomorrow…perhaps I could bring you along with me with the excuse that you are an operative," she suggested. "We can guide the Commander here that way."
Cullen glanced uneasily at himself across the way. He was standing in a casual, relaxed stance, hands clasped behind his back, head tilted to the side.
Hm. I'm not bad looking, am I?
The thought crossed Cullen's mind with the same speed it disappeared. He did not have time for such frivolities. Besides, it wasn't just the meeting that preoccupied him: it was the appointment he'd scheduled for tomorrow evening. He'd finally managed to arrange a quiet dinner with Evelyn. That he was charmed by the Inquisitor was no secret. At least, not to him. They had been walking circles around each other without an end in sight to their little impasse, however. He suspected she fancied him too, but their time together never went beyond engaging in conversation, playing the occasional board game in the garden, or attending a Chantry lecture together. Every moment he was able to steal away with her was precious, for it offered him hope that perhaps this time he would garner sufficient courage to reveal his true feelings or she would give him a clear sign of hers…and their rapport would move forward, beyond the sweet, but ultimately platonic friendship they had settled into.
"What do you say, Cullen?" Morrigan persisted. "Buy me some time and perhaps spare Evelyn from a very unpleasant showdown…"
It was tempting. Very tempting. He never wanted to be as anxious as he'd been when he'd watched Evelyn tumble into the abyss at Adamant.
"And you… Jim, is it?" Morrigan asked, turning to him.
"Yeah?"
"Well? Do you think you can pull off being Commander Cullen for a day or so?"
Jim shrugged, his fur-covered mantle rising slightly with his shoulders.
"Would it help, Commander?" he asked loudly.
"Sssh!" both Cullen and Morrigan hushed him.
"You are the Commander now!" Morrigan admonished him. "Try to act more authoritatively."
Jim stood straighter, pressed his lips together and furrowed his brow.
"I said authoritatively, not constipatedly."
"Very well," Cullen stated. "Let's wait this thing out. If it helps us in our fight against Corypheus, then it might be worth…the inconvenience."
Morrigan smiled one of her unnervingly sly grins.
"Lovely! I am glad you see it my way. Now…you two should get acquainted, give each other some pointers to help with the ruse," she advised.
Pushing some shards of glass aside with the tip of her boot, she carefully stepped away from the scene of the accident and left them both alone in the empty hallway.