Dubiety and Conviction
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It's not even light out,
But you've somewhere to be;
No hesitation.
- "The Moment I Said It", Imogen Heap
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"I shouldn't distract you from your duties…" Neria inclined her dark head politely just before she turned away from him. In a brief flash of panic, Cullen nearly stepped forward to stop her leaving, instinctively aiming to take her hand. Thankfully, he managed to stop himself halfway through the act. With a humiliated flush he realized that Neria has seen him lurch towards her from the corner of her sharply slanted eyes.
Of course she did, Cullen scolded himself silently, righting himself under her curious, lucid stare. She sees everything. Don't think you can hide from her, Cullen.
"Oh, you're not distracting!" he blurted in a rush. "I-I mean, you are, but...well, you're not?"He brought a gloved hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, which consequently hid from her the pained expression in his eyes. She smiled at him in that cunning, confident manner he admired so much, although he couldn't see it. "I mean, you can talk to me anytime if you want."
Cullen let his arm fall back to his side and tried for a smile, if awkward. As he looked at her again, however, his brain froze as he saw the fondness with which she was gazing up at him.
After a moment, she chuckled. But it was pleasant and friendly, not mocking. Cullen felt his lips quirk genuinely at the sound.
When she stopped, Neria looked back at him with such a brazen glint in her striking silver eyes that, were she anyone else, would surely have come off as impudent. But she was Neria, and Cullen knew that although she was often tactlessly blunt and factual, and admittedly prideful, she was anything but pretentious.
"Cullen," she emphasized loudly. Her bold voice filled the otherwise empty hall. "I would appreciate it if you would please stop insulting my intelligence with your unnecessary redundancies. I already knew that."
Ever the picture of perfect refinement and poise, the young elf mage turned from him on her heel in a whoosh of flaring robe hems and layered black hair. She was grinning to herself as she walked away, and in her wake, so was her knight.
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A/N: Alright, first lemme clear some things up: yes, my mage is Amell, and yes, she is Elven. In my little DA universe, Neira Amell is a half-elf who was abandoned at the chantry in Denerim as an infant. She showed signs of magical talent at a very young age, and thus remembers next to nothing of her life before the circle. She is meant to look east-asian, with sharper features than those of other elves, and a layered black bob that's cut in such a way to cover her unmistakable ears.
This will be a series of snippets and oneshots revolving around Neria and Cullen and their constantly evolving and, to that point, complex relationship. Follows the game's storyline and beyond (or so I plan).
=] Hope you enjoyed this first snippet. Reviews are HEAVENLY.