I Dreamed a Dream (of banana pancakes) - A Dragon Age Inquistion Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Cullen/Inquisitor)
Disclaimer: I don't work for Bioware, nor have I ever been involved with the creation of any of the characters within the Dragon Age universe. I'm just playing with them (as we were meant to). The only original characters are the ones I created in-game, and have brought over to the fanfic universe: Ceridwen Cousland, my human female rogue Grey Warden from DA:O, Rhiannon Hawke, my female rogue from DAII, and most importantly Lilah Trevelyan, my human female rogue Inquisitor who has yet to be created in game but already lives in my head. Apparently I like being a rogue, human and female. Who knew?
Previously...
"This is definitely an odd dream. You don't usually appear until I'm in my bedchamber. And you're calling me Inquisitor all the time, like you do during the day. You usually call me Lilah. And you apologised for ogling me. A very odd dream indeed."
Cullen's eyes widened when he realised what was going on. The woman thought she was asleep! More importantly, she mentioned that he made regular appearances in her dreams, usually in her bedchamber where he called her Lilah, and he generally didn't have to apologise for ogling her. He couldn't help but grin, but the grin slid off his face when she reached up and stroked his cheek, her fingers lingering at the scar on his lip.
"I'm also wondering why you're taking so long to kiss me..."
Now...
He reached up and gently removed her hand from his cheek, then dropped to one knee in front of her, kissing the back of her hand while looking up into her slightly dazed eyes.
"Forgive me, Lady Trevelyan."
Her cheeks turned the most pleasing shade of pink he'd ever seen, and a slow smile spread across her lips.
"Oh, so this is actually a romantic dream. I haven't had one of these in a while."
Cullen wasn't quite sure where to go from there, but he was saved by the unruly growling of the Inqui... no, Trevelyan's stomach. He had to start using her name if he wanted to pass this entire evening off as a dream and finally get her to eat something then go to sleep. All of the food in the banquet hall would have been cleared up and thrown away by now, but he knew his way around the kitchen well enough to find her something.
"Come along, Lady Trevelyan, let's find you something to eat."
He clambered back to his feet, and was surprised when Trevelyan held out her hand to take his, smiling all the while.
"Very well, Cullen. Lead on."
He took her small hand within his larger one, and was surprised when she threaded her fingers through his to make their grasp more intimate. His stomach did that strange little flip again, and this time something lower throbbed in response. Cullen shook his head and led the way to the kitchen, berating himself for acting like a teenager in heat again. The woman was drugged and he was acting like a massive arse. Nothing further could be allowed to happen between them.
The kitchens were dark when they arrived, so Cullen lit a few candles then turned to find Trevelyan gazing at him expectantly.
"What do feel like eating, My Lady? Bread, cold meats, vegetables... I'm sure there's cake if we look hard enough. Though, they may have been lying about the cake..."
Trevelyan seemed to stop and think for a second.
"Back at home in Ostwick, we used to have this brilliant Orlesian cook. She would make these amazing dishes that were so fancy I couldn't even pronounce the names of half of them. But my favourite thing that she used to make was banana pancakes. You wouldn't know how to make those, would you?"
Luckily enough, Cullen was extremely proficient in the workings of the banana pancake. One of the kindlier Chantry sister's had used to make them for the children living at the Chantry where he'd grown up, and he'd always watched avidly as she's created the tasty delights.
"This is your dream, My Lady. Of course I know how to make your favourite foods."
He ushered her to one of the low stone benches that lined the walls to the sides of the oven, and went to the cupboards to start gathering ingredients. He mentally ticked them off as he pulled flour, sugar and salt from the tall pantry and placed them on one of the preparation tables, and walked over to the ice-chest in the corner where the fresh ingredients were kept. The Inquisition's mages' had be-spelled the chest so that milk, eggs and fresh meats would last longer in storage, a truly ingenious idea. He retrieved eggs and milk from the chest, all the while extremely aware of Trevelyan's heated gaze following his every step, every movement.
He'd only glanced over at her once while collecting everything, and had had to look away almost immediately for fear of forgetting what his goal for this... farce was. Her eyes, always a dark shade of green, seemed even darker, with the reflection of the cooking fire's flames in them. Her gaze had travelled over his entire body in the few seconds he'd looked at her, with her lower lip rolled between her teeth. She seemed to be fixating on the scar by his mouth again, though. Every time they'd spoken before this evening she'd kept eye contact, if not shied away from looking at him directly overlong as any young lady of nobility was taught to do. Now, it seemed, all bets were off. Cullen laid the blame directly on the sleeping potions. He turned away from her, facing the table and almost throwing the hand of bananas in his grasp onto the stone surface. Facing away from her was also the only way she wouldn't see the growing issue he was having with his raging libido. Even so, he could still feel her staring at him, practically boring holes through his shoulder blades as he leaned against the table and struggled to remember the recipe.
"Is there anything I can help with?"
Her voice broke into his thoughts, and he squeezed his eyes closed before answering her, hands fisting into the table.
"No, My Lady. Please just... stay where I can see you. I can't have you disappearing on me again."
Trevelyan stretched again, and smiled lazily.
"No fear of me doing that, Cullen. I'm enjoying the view all too much."
Maker help him. He peeled three bananas, broke them (rather violently) into pieces, and threw them into a bowl. He then proceeded to mash them with a fork. He felt a presence at his elbow and turned to find that Trevelyan had sneaked up silently beside him and was watching him with a dreamy expression on her face.
"You really can do absolutely everything, can't you?"
Cullen snorted and continued mashing the bananas, more gently this time.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, My Lady."
Trevelyan sat on the edge of the table, her shapely body mere inches from him, gazing up at him as he stirred the flour, sugar and salt into the banana mash.
"I'm sure you do. You give motivational speeches like a bloody king, your fighting style is perfect, now I find out you can cook and you look completely dashing while doing all of it!"
Cullen could feel the blush creeping up his neck before he could even try and stop it. SHE thought HE was good looking. This was news to him. Well, maybe not news exactly, judging from the cues he'd been picking up from her since he'd found her in the Map room, but she had finally voiced it. Which meant that in the future and under different circumstances she may not be averse to him approaching her to... what exactly? He hadn't thought that far ahead yet. What exactly did he want from Trevelyan?
He deftly cracked an egg into the bowl, managing to not drop any shell fragments into the mixture, and stirred it in. The mixture was still too thick, so he sloshed in some milk. Much better. He dipped a finger into the batter to taste it, but as he was raising it to his mouth Trevelyan grabbed his wrist and brought his mixture dipped finger to her own lips. Cullen's mouth dropped open as Trevelyan closed her lips over his finger and sucked the pancake mixture off it. Maker, he could feel her tongue wrapped around his finger. She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh, and Cullen had to fight against the urge to push her down on the table and see what else he had to do to make her sigh like that again. Or moan. Instead he slowly retracted his finger and cleared his throat.
"Do you want these pancakes or not, My Lady?"
Trevelyan opened her eyes and nodded, her stomach growling again.
"I do. Very much so. I don't think I've properly eaten in a few days. Which may be why this dream is so vivid..."
Cullen sighed and placed a flat pan over the cooking fire, with some butter in it so the cakes wouldn't stick. Ah yes. This was all a 'dream' after all, and in dreams one didn't take advantage of the woman in charge of the dream. He poured some of the mixture into the pan where it began to sizzle, and soon the kitchen was filled with the smell of banana pancakes. He gave the pan a shake then flipped the pancake in mid-air to cook on the other side. He allowed himself a smirk when he realised Trevelyan was once again gazing at him with adoration.
"I'm sure anyone else could do this as well as me, if not better My Lady. And surely I'm not the most dashing figure your eyes have rested on during the past few months."
He tipped the cooked pancake out onto a waiting plate, then poured more mixture and repeated the process another four times until there was a fluffy stack on the plate. He then retrieved some powdered sugar from the pantry and sprinkled it on top, presenting the plate to Trevelyan with a knife and fork.
"Your supper, My Lady."
She eyed the stack hungrily, then looked up at him.
"Aren't you going to have any?"
Cullen sighed loudly, and placed a hand on his stomach.
"I fear I may spoil my manly figure if I joined you, My Lady, seeing as I had a full dinner not long ago. This is entirely your treat. Would you like something to drink?"
Trevelyan nodded, and he moved towards the wine cellar then stopped. Adding wine to three nights worth of sleeping draughts and stamina draughts was probably not a good idea. He grabbed the cocoa powder, sugar and some mint leaves from the pantry instead and made her a hot chocolate. She took a sip after half of the pancakes were gone, and gave a small yelp of glee.
"Maker, Cullen, this is amazing!"
Trevelyan looked so happy guzzling her treats Cullen couldn't help but smile. She didn't get much, if any, time like this to just relax. Perhaps he should discuss bringing in rostered days of rest for the inner circle. It wouldn't hurt. She was actually humming with happiness, and it warmed Cullen's insides. He made a move toward to preparation table to start cleaning up, when Trevelyan finished her plate and leapt up, seemingly refreshed, and began to head towards the door.
"My Lady, where are you going?"
She turned in the doorway and looked back at him, grinning.
"Back to the Map room, of course. I need to check something. Now that I'm fully refreshed and energetic I need something to do!"
Cullen rubbed a weary hand across his brow and walked after her. Of course the sugar rush from the pancakes would wake her up, why hadn't he thought of that BEFORE he'd made them. He trudged along behind her as she practically skipped back to the Map room. She paused at the door and perused the table, then made an affirmative noise and moved forward, grabbing something.
"Ah ha! There's the culprit!"
Trevelyan attempted to wrestle Cassandra's dagger from the table and frowned. She changed her grip and tried again, letting out a small grunt of exertion. Cullen moved into the room and stood at her side, watching her try for a third time to remove the pesky dagger to no avail.
"Please allow me, My Lady."
He moved behind her and placed both of his hands around hers on the hilt of the blade, allowing himself a brief moment to breathe in the intoxicating scent of her hair. She'd startled a little when he'd moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her, then she had relaxed against him, resting her body against his. The feel of her against him so completely was almost too much to take. She rolled her neck around so she could look up at his face, a questioning look in her eyes.
"Cullen, what...?"
Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he (well, 'they' technically) gave the blade a quick twist to the left and yanked it free from the hard wood. With the dagger freed, there really wasn't any reason to continue holding her was there? He just couldn't bring himself to release her hands, or move away from her sweet warmth. Trevelyan didn't seem to mind though. Her eyes were still locked on his, and he could see her pupils beginning to dilate even further. Oh Maker, that must be the aphrodisiac kicking in. Her lips parted slightly, and her tongue darted out to moisten them. He might have been imagining things, but it seemed she was pressing even more closely to him. This had to stop. He closed his eyes, breaking their intense contact, and stifled a groan of disappointment as he released her hands and moved away from her. He thanked the Maker for the fact that his pants were a loose fit. It made him feel a little better to see an equally disappointed look on Trevelyan's face at their loss of contact. She reached her right hand out towards him, then realised she was holding the dagger.
"Ah... You got it..."
Cullen nodded, and smiled a little sheepishly.
"Well, you were so desperate to get that dagger out of the table, how could I refuse you?"
Trevelyan still looked a little confused, and shook her head.
"But you... you were embracing me. Then you stopped. You never just stop..."
Cullen looked away, trying to think of a reasonable answer.
"Perhaps... this isn't the most romantic place for an interlude like that. Or, perhaps I'm just very tired and wish to retire as soon as I return you to your quarters. Choose whichever answer makes more sense, My Lady."
Trevelyan looked back at him, then started giggling.
"You wish to go to sleep? Alone? This is the strangest dream I've had in ages!"
Cullen managed a half-smile as his stomach flip-flopped again. So it seemed that every dream he starred in with Trevelyan ended with them sleeping together. There had to be some way to not have to end this evening by taking advantage of a drugged woman. If he slept with her in this state, she'd never forgive him. Then again, if he did sleep with her in this state, she may write if off as the dream she thought it was and not be any the wiser. HE'D know, though, and Cullen knew that he would never forgive himself for doing something so utterly... selfish. He cleared his throat and gestured towards the dagger in her hand. He figured the best tactic in this situation would be to distract her and keep her mind off anything untoward.
"So, why the sudden interest in Cassandra's dagger? Are you going to return it?"
Trevelyan looked at him, and rolled her eyes.
"I can't return it to her, this is a dream. I did notice that it was rather blunt, though, I mean look at all the trouble we had removing it from the table. Now, here's what we're going to do: We're going to head to the Undercroft, I'm going to sharpen it, and then I'm going to come back up here and put it back into the table where she'll be sure to find it tomorrow."
Cullen scratched his head, trying not to think too hard about the multiple holes in her logical thought process, and nodded. Anything to keep her mind off... him.
"Good plan. Shall we head down."
Trevelyan cocked her head to the side, hands resting on her hips.
"I thought you were tired."
Cullen sighed and held his hand out.
"I'm not too tired to walk. Come on, the night is still somewhat young. Plenty of time left to sleep later."
Trevelyan giggled at this again.
"Alright, Cullen. Let's go."
She took his hand, and this time he was ready for it when she entwined fingers with him. He couldn't help but smile. Holding hands with her felt so natural. Once again he felt that odd but welcome warmth flooding through his chest. She was walking in perfect time with him, looking up at his face occasionally and smiling to herself. She probably thought he wouldn't notice, but he noticed everything when she was involved. He'd only just realised that himself. He gave her fingers a slight squeeze, then released them, and felt her do the same in return. Yes, the hand-holding just felt right.
"You were wrong, you know."
Cullen's steps faltered, and for a moment he thought she must have read his mind and disagreed with his thoughts.
"Wrong, My Lady? About what?"
She lifted their clasped hands to her lips and laid a soft kiss on the back of his hand, almost mirroring the kiss he'd given her earlier. Cullen's cheeks flared bright red, but he didn't pull his hand from hers.
"Yours is the only dashing figure my eyes have rested on for the past few months. For the past few years in fact. Nobody has ever caught my interest like you, Cullen. You can rest assured, you have no competition when it comes to winning my heart. You've already won my body on numerous occasions, after all."
The smile she shot at him from under lowered lashes, with her lips still so close to his hand he could feel the breath of her words against him, almost brought him to his knees. Clearly her dreams were incredibly vivid. If anything did ever happen between them, he'd have a lot to live up to.
"I... am relieved. Thank you, My Lady. Now, about this dagger..."
Trevelyan smiled, lowered their hands and resumed walking.
"You're just all business tonight aren't you. 'Let's get you some dinner, let's get this dagger sharpened, let's get you into bed alone so you can have nightmares about all the people you've gotten killed so far with this ridiculous Inquisition'..."
Cullen unlatched the door that led to the Undercroft and held it open for her.
"You have nightmares, My Lady?"
Trevelyan ducked through the door ahead of him and turned around.
"Oh yes, all the time. Even the one's with you in them start out as nightmares, then... they get better."
Cullen wondered if the nightmares were a side-effect from the Fade rifts and her 'Cursed Hand'. He'd have to look into it later, maybe ask Solas or Vivienne. Hopefully they'd know something. They walked down the dark tunnel towards the forge, hands clasped again, swinging slightly. Trevelyan was humming again, a tune he faintly recognised.
"Is that 'The Fair Maiden of Ferelden'?"
He couldn't really tell, but he thought he could see a faint blush rising on Trevelyan's cheeks.
"Errr, yes, yes it is. My brother's used to sing it at me whenever I did anything un-ladylike. It was a big joke in my family, you see. Mother was so happy when she finally had a baby girl after having three boys. I was to be her 'little lady', a doll that she could dress up and take to parties, be proud of my embroidery and singing, all those girly things she never had with the boys."
Cullen smirked, thinking of the Trevelyan he knew now trying to be a polite young noblewoman.
"Let me guess: You weren't fond of any of those things."
Trevelyan sighed and chuckled softly.
"No indeed. As soon as I could walk, I was trailing after my brothers, playing with their daggers, getting myself stuck in their armour. I'd hide in the yard while they were practicing their fighting techniques and remember everything, then go and practice myself with the kitchen boys. We only used sticks, but I still whipped their arses. When I was ten years old, my brother's discovered me one day, coming back from one of my 'training sessions'. I was running after one of the kitchen boys who I'd just beaten in a duel, he was bawling his eyes out and clutching his arm which I had barely tapped with my stick. I was yelling apologies and advice as to how to make the bruises go down when Deacon, my oldest brother, stuck his leg out and tripped me into a mud puddle. I must have looked an absolute fright, and all three of them just stood there laughing at me. Joshua, the one next in age to me finally stretched out his hand and pulled me up, and Marcus started dusting me off which just made the mess worse. We were all laughing at that point, and then Marcus says 'Let's get the fair maiden of Fereldan back home then' and then they all started singing it at me..."
Her face suddenly clouded over in the middle of this happy memory.
"All of them... All three of my brothers were at the conclave with me... They're all dead... Maker..."
Cullen held her hand tighter, not really knowing what to say. There wasn't really any way to make someone feel better about losing half their family. He hadn't even known, he doubted any of the Inner Circle knew. Trevelyan certainly never spoke of her family in the group, she seemed to want to keep her nobility a secret. For all he knew, Cullen was now the only other person privy to this terrible tragedy.
"My Lady, I'm so sorry. If there's anything I can do...?"
Trevelyan's sad face turned up to look at his, and she smiled faintly.
"You could always help me forget. Distract me with your manly wiles..."
She raised her left hand to his chest as her right hand was still entwined with his, and traced it lightly over his heart. Cullen gulped. The dark hallway was only lit every few metres, but it was light enough to see that she was starting to get that hungry look in her eyes again. This time she wasn't after banana pancakes. The Maker was going to owe him dearly for being the most restrained man in the world tonight. He backed away and smiled softly.
"My Lady, somehow I don't think that would work. As... distracting as it might be, you'll still have to grieve eventually. Why don't we just continue on with our primary objective and sharpen Cassandra's dagger, then get you to bed."
Trevelyan's sad smile turned slightly cheekier.
"To bed? Or to sleep?"
Cullen sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. She would be the death of him.
"Andraste's flaming... To sleep, Trevelyan!"
Trevelyan laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the stone tunnel all the way into the Undercroft.
"That sounded like an order! 'To sleep, Trevelyan!' You can't order a person to sleep, you know."
Cullen glanced at her exasperated, then pulled her more quickly down the corridor.
"If only I could just order you to go to sleep, that would make this so much easier..."
He was mumbling under his breath, but Trevelyan managed to hear at least some of his grumblings.
"I've never really followed orders from anyone, you know. Even if you did order me to sleep, well, I'd just refuse. I'm obstinate like that. Most people find it endearing. I suppose it could be a little grating though... sorry."
Cullen continued in silence for a moment until he saw the fires of the forge burning up ahead, then turned to address her. She was looking a little sorry for herself, so he decided to lighten the situation a little.
"Well, admitting your problem is the first step to overcoming it, I suppose. You're on the right track. Come on, let's sharpen that dagger."
He tugged her hand and pulled her over to the sharpening stone, silently thanking the Maker that the forgemaster wasn't there to witness him holding hands with Trevelyan. In the firelight she looked even more breathtaking. He might just let her sharpen the dashed thing by herself because the way things were going he was going to end up launching himself at her before this night was through. He sighed and started browsing through the various upgrades that were available for the Keep as Trevelyan sat by the grindstone. Hopefully after she finished sharpening the dagger and they returned it to the Map room she would happily just trot off to bed without accosting him further. Then again, he actually was starting to enjoy her... interest in him. He hadn't entertained thoughts like this toward anyone else at the Keep, and he now knew that she was definitely attracted to him, well... His mind returned to some of the fantasies he'd had about her when he was alone, in the dark of night. He whispered her name so fervently when he was alone, but he couldn't even call her it to her face. He was a coward, indeed. He was broken from his reverie by her voice, calling HIS name, which she seemed to have no trouble doing.
"Cullen? Can you give me a hand?"
He moved away from the table and saw her collecting a large number of hilts, blades and bow-pieces. Maker, what was she doing NOW? He grabbed the heavy pile of bits and pieces from her arms and dumped them on the ground next to the forge.
"What's all this, then?"
Trevelyan stood proudly with her hands on her hips, surveying her pile of supplies, then looked up at him.
"Well, sharpening Cassandra's dagger has inspired me. I'm in the mood for some crafting!"
Cullen's shoulder's slumped, and he closed his eyes once more. For the love of...
"Maker, help me... Let's get crafting then."
It was going to be an even longer night. But at least she wasn't sad anymore. Or throwing herself at him. What was the harm in crafting a few things?
END OF PART 02
So I finally finished part two, and now it looks like it'll be a three parter after all. Sorry for the delay, but during the Christmas holidays I'll have a bit more time for writing and will hopefully get this and the other couple of Inquisition based fanfics done then! Until then, read, review and enjoy!
Foxfire out!
