"Why on Earth do you insist on training so early, EVERY morning?" Cullen smiled as he lunged toward the practice dummy in front of him. He spied Valca from the corner of his eye, she was rubbing a hand over one tired, and slightly red-rimmed eye. He had a pang in his chest right where he struck the dummy. He stared at it a moment before he straightened and turned fully towards the female elf. She was rumpled from sleep, her red blouse buttoned up to her neck to ward off the chilly morning air. Her brown trousers were slightly rumpled, and she had no shoes on. He'd noticed she liked to be free of them when she could. When he'd asked her why once, she'd smiled and said that toes give you more traction in the dirt. He'd assumed she'd meant that towards sword fighting, but sometimes he never quite knew with her. Said toes wiggled as he looked at them, and his smile widened as his gaze roamed back up to her face.
He felt another twinge as he took in the dark smudges under her eyes. She'd obviously not had a well-rested night. Her hair wasn't braided this morning; instead she'd merely tucked it into a sloppy bun at the back of her head. A few stray tendrils framed her face by her ears and he had the silly urge to tuck them back. He'd refrain from that of course. Instead he walked to her where she was standing on the other side of the makeshift training ring he'd made a little while after he'd established this place. He'd felt exercise would do not only himself, but any others trying to shake Lyrium, some good.
"I practice, because if I do not I will grow a paunch." He was trying to make her laugh, but the look she cast down towards the sweat soaked material of his beige shirt that clung to the clearly very flat plane of his abdomen, made him want to draw a different sound from her entirely. Her glowing green gaze had flicked to the, he just noticed, sticky material of his shirt front. He'd not expected to work that hard this morning, he'd thought the thin clothing in the cool morning air would have made him just chilly enough not to sweat too much. He'd been wrong. Now he was very aware that Valca now seemed to be very aware that he indeed, had no paunch….and she looked at if the thought intrigued her. Maker's balls.
Clearing his throat, Cullen brought her attention back up to him. She grinned at him, throwing him off his train of thought. "Maybe I should get into the habit of joining you." She said smoothly, she motioned toward the sky then. "Except I would much rather wait until it is light enough to be able to see all…" A small flicker of her eyes back down his body, made him shiver from more than the chill. "Of my opponent." Cullen looked around them, it was lighter than it was when he'd first come out, but the hillside where their buildings rested was still covered in the gray shadows of early morning. He shrugged, deciding to turn the conversation away from himself.
"I think some more training could do you some good." She looked affronted at that, when he realized what he said implied, he lifted a hand in front of him and shook his head. "That is NOT what I meant. I'm just saying if you want to keep that," He motioned towards her metal hand, it clenched and he swallowed hard. Maker he was making a mess of this. He should write a book, 'How to Insult Women in Less Than Two Sentences.'
"What I mean to say is that it could be a great stress relief." He said the sentence a little fast, but she must have understood; for he noticed the corners of that pouty mouth of hers soften slightly. He almost melted into a puddle of relief himself. He'd never been good at talking to women, especially women he liked. His awkwardness had always been deemed adorable, much to his displeasure…well, mild displeasure. It usually led to a pleasurable outcome. If only he could talk as smoothly from his mouth as he could in his head.
"You're probably right…." She said, she sounded off-put still. Cullen took the opportunity.
"How about right now?" She hesitated, her gaze flitting from one side to the other, as if she would refuse. "Look, at least it will wear you out enough for you to get some sleep Valca." She stilled, her eyes, which had drifted to the right returned slowly back to his. She looked mildly surprised, and a whole lot of guarded.
"I'm not blind; I can tell you had a rough night." Her shoulders slumped slightly, but before she could open her mouth he finished, "I'll even go easy on you….just in case you can't handle me." He tried not to smile when her spine stiffened. She straightened herself to her full height (all 5 foot 3 inch nothing of her), and leaned directly to her left and grabbed a wooden training sword from the rack beside the training circle's fencing. He did smile when she hoisted herself over the fenced and landed lightly on her feet across from him. His smile faded to a grimace though when she stood and immediately took a swing at him. He had to jerk his head away and step back a few paces to keep that blow and the next she would have landed from hitting him. If his reflexes had been any slower the first blow would've hit him in the face.
He frowned at her, she didn't stop coming though, he dodged blow after blow. She was normally a two-handed swords woman. It showed in her technique that she was not used to smaller, lighter weapons. Her blows swung heavy, and landed fiercely. Cullen felt a spark of irritation.
"Don't swing so hard, it's a wooden sword not a battle-axe!" He shouted above to clack of his sword against hers. Her brows drew low over her eyes, the dark brown making the green look like it was glowing. Her next blow was lighter at least. Cullen slapped it to the side with his own blade. He immediately took the opening and the tip of his wooden sword pressed into the soft space below her rib-cage. She looked down shocked for a moment before her face took on a thunderous expression.
"Don't leave openings 'Inquisitor'." He said smugly, a smugness wiped away by a quick blow to his right knee. She'd moved in so quickly he hadn't seen it coming; he dropped as his knee gave way beneath him. A throbbing ache accompanied its connection with the ground. Cullen grunted, but had no time to check it. A flurry of quick succession blows followed. He blocked all but the last, which slapped him across the face. Her gasp did little to help the sting he felt growing in his cheek. He lifted his hand to it, his eyes wide. Not as wide as hers though. Her sword clattered to the ground and she dropped herself in front of him. Her eyes were already misting, and she reached out to him. Cullen let her test the already bruising skin. When he jerked at the touch she bit her bottom lip, and pain or no, he had the absurd notion to do it himself. It was then he realized he was completely aroused. The front of his trousers was so tight that when she swiped another gentle touch over his cheek, his cock actually twitched in response, his groan was genuine but not from pain.
She immediately took her hand away, and Cullen met her worried gaze. He didn't know what came over him then, both of them kneeling in the dirt sweating and out of breath, his cheek swelling and her eyes watering. He grabbed her arm and dragged her to him. He fell back on his ass and she was dragged between his legs, his lips found hers even as his eyes closed. The soft drag of her mouth on his made him groan again. His grip on her arm tightened; if it hurt she didn't give a sign. He opened his mouth on hers and slipped his tongue across the seam of her mouth. She opened on a gasp almost immediately, and he took full advantage. His tongue delved in, and after a few strokes, hers joined his in a slick embrace. His other arm came up as he sucked her lower lip into his mouth, and he pulled her against him as best he could. Her knees slid to either side of his hips as she tried to find a comfortable position. It landed her squarely over his crotch. He slipped his hands to her hips and ground her down on him as he lifted up. She gasped, her head trying to go back, but he grabbed her lip gently in his teeth and tugged with a growl from deep within his chest.
He surprised himself at the noise, releasing her lip immediately. They stared at each other for a long moment. Her face was flushed, eyes heavy lidded and blazing. Her lips where bruised from his kiss and her chin chaffed slightly from the stubble on his own. She was still firmly sat on his lap. He tested the waters by pushing her down on him again, more lightly this time. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and a tiny noise escaped her. Cullen's eye's closed.
"Maker's breath." His voice didn't sound like his own, deep and rough from desire. He lifted her from him then and set her to the side. When she was firmly on the ground beside him Cullen rubbed his face with his hands.
"That wasn't supposed to happen." He muttered into them. He heard her snort softly beside him.
"I knew you weren't as unaffected as you played to be." He dropped his hands and turned his head to look at her. "But, I can say I was thoroughly delighted to find you kiss far less stiffly than you act." Her lopsided grin tugged a spot low in his belly. He shook his head at her and started to rise.
"Valca…." He started as he stood. He looked down at her when he was up, she'd made her way to her knees and their position was not lost to his still desire fogged mind. "You can't imagine how long and how….BADLY I've wanted to do that." Her eyes sparked and she gave him a slow smile. She started to rise and reach for him. He stepped back and shook his head. "But not like this." Her curious look almost undid him. He didn't want to admit what he said next.
"You're still with someone else…." When she frowned and opened her mouth, he held up a hand to silence her. Damn him he even reached for the back of his neck as it itched with a jealousy he despised. "Maybe not physically….but mentally…emotionally." He gazed at her, took in her now shuttered expression. Before he could say more though, she turned on her heel and walked away. He took a selfish moment to appreciate the generous swell of her backside as she left. He sighed. He knew it'd been a low blow. Hell, he'd hated saying that to her, even though it was true. But…..
"I just can't be second best." He tried to convince himself.
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A heavy sigh whipped out into the wind from Solas' place in a tree not even 20 yards from the training ground former Inquisitor, Valca Lavellan, had just vacated. Magic crackled around him as his irritation settled from the scene he he'd been an unknowing third-party to. He did not like finding his vhenan in another's arms. Especially not the arms of the ex-Templar Commander of her former armies. He paused at the thought. He supposed that was selfish of him. That after so much time with no contact, he should think she could not find affection with someone else. When he'd first heard she'd taken up with Cullen Rutherford he had honestly, and most arrogantly, assumed the man would never have had the courage to act on the interest he held for the warrioress. The desire that been plain to Solas, and everyone else for that matter, that had known him.
He found it intriguing that he'd misjudged the other man's character. He watched the blonde man scrub at his neck furiously, a habit Solas noted the other man had not been able to shake in the year's he'd been gone. With some mild interest he leaned forward, placing an elbow on his knee and putting his chin in his hand. He studied the ex-templar for a moment. The man was still as broad and thickly muscled as he had been years ago, when Solas had seen him last. He kept his hair shorter now than before though, more militant. Solas thought the change actually suited the man well enough. A smile curved his mouth as and slid a hand over his own shorn head. He may have a biased opinion though. As he watched, the other man picked up the wooden sword he had dropped when Valca had landed that particularly nasty blow to his face. Solas lifted a brow when Cullen stomped over the dummy he had been practicing with before Lavellan had come out, and promptly beheaded it with a fierce blow to its wooden neck.
An intriguing development. Cullen played shy and easily embarrassed, but the Dread Wolf felt a simmering of energy from the man that made his skin prickle in response. He lifted his arm and saw the hair there had risen. His grin was more a baring of teeth, than from true humor. He knew a threat to his territory when he saw one.