Naturally things had gotten so awfully busy immediately following the ball. Naturally.
Lavellan felt run thin between working with her Advisors to run the Inquisition and oh, you know, saving the world. In the name of a shemlen god that she herself didn't even follow. As a mage. It would take a toll on anyone, eventually.
So after weeks of going without pause, Lavellan and her team had finally reached Skyhold once again- with a few days to spare. Supposedly. Hopefully.
To celebrate, Lavellan joined The Iron Bull and the Chargers for drinks in the early part of the night. No one said the Herald couldn't drink like a fish, right? So sometimes, she did. Why not? She earned those damn drinks.
Until it was Maker knows what time and the sound of Iron Bull's laughter was waking her up.
"How long has she been here?" Lavellan heard.
"She tapped out eeeearly."
"You just let her black out on the floor? The Inquisitor?"
Both voices were familiar, albeit fuzzy. She shook her head slowly, sitting up and gasping at how rapidly the world began to spin. Oh.
"Ahh! Boss! There you are!" Bull said as Lavellan looked around, bleary eyed. "Told you she's fine. Handles drink well, for an elf."
"I am the Herald, damn right I handle drink well!" Lavellan declared, then giggled, looking around to see what was holding her- oh.
"Commander!" She said with a grin. "Why are you here?" There was a pause, and her eyes grew wide. "Fenhedis! Did something happen?" Lavellan cursed, trying to stand up despite Cullen's grip on her.
"No, no, Inquisitor, it's alright. Really. No one had heard from you or seen you since your return. I happened to be the one who found you, passed out drunk." The words rushed from him, but he didn't stammer. She relaxed into his grasp.
"Oh. I'm good, do not worry about me." Lavellan laughed. "I just... ah! Forgot the war table appointment!"
Cullen nodded. "We have it all taken care of, just trying to be sure the Inquisitor is alright."
"Aw, you care about me." Lavellan giggled, face flushed from either laughter, drink, or both.
"Inquisitor, I-"
"Shhh. Cullen, just shhh. Can you help me to my quarters, Bull? I'm not sure I can make it all the way..." She went to stand, stumbling as she did so. Bull caught the giggly Dalish woman, and looked at the ex-Templar.
"Ya got her?" He asked. Cullen affirmed with a nod, and put one of Lavellan's arms around his shoulder to help walk her to her quarters... which proved to be quite the task. She was not the most agreeable drunk. Or maybe she was too agreeable. Everything was some adventure. Even the blasted rats needed a greeting from the Inquisitor. Maker's breath, she was going to be the death of him as well as Josie at this rate.
But as she grinned at him, cheeks rosy and chatting away, he couldn't help but appreciate her. Drunk or not, few could take on such an immense task.
And to think a decade ago, he would have killed her without blinking, given the Apostate thing she had going on.
The pang of regret hit him hard and fast and he almost buckled under the sudden emotional pressure. He had no right to be close to Lavellan for his past actions. He had been a monster. Maybe he still was, somewhere inside.
The Inquisitor grasped his arm as she stumbled along with him. "Thank you." She said, swatting hair out of her eyes. Lavellan's voice was a bit more clear, the cool air helping in sobering her up as they walked. "I know I'm probably all over the place right now."
"I've seen worse, Inquisitor." He chuckled warmly. "Have you seen Lady Josephine when she's had a little too much?"
"No, I haven't, but now I kind of want to. It's Lavellan, by the way. The shemlen formalities are so bizarre." She glanced at him, paler than her and just so pretty.
And safe.
He seemed safe.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, Commander."
He pushed the heavy door open in front of them, guiding her through Solas' room with a hasty apology and up through the throne room, to her quarters. She chatted away about everything and nothing as they walked, throwing Cullen off with her drunken openness. He walked Lavellan up her stairs, all too aware that Solas' eyes had been trained heavily on the two of them. Lavellan hugged Cullen tightly, and without warning.
"Thank you again." She said quietly.
Then he found himself kissing her, again, guilt gnawing at him while desire curled in his stomach for her. For Lavellan. Maker, he was in trouble.
But she was so soft, so needy, so lovely.
