Chapter 7
Cullen was not in a good place mentally. He took an accounting of his day so far. He let the woman he loved get into a fist fight. He had bet coin on said fight. He had helped her cheat so she could win. And worst of all, he had been shamefully aroused by watching her go at it with another woman. There had been times in his life where he felt as if his grasp on sanity was tenuous at best. At the moment, he felt like he was watching his sanity ride away from Skyhold on his favorite horse, laughing at him as it left.
Evelyn found him sulking on the steps, waiting for their match. The sun was low in the sky, and from what Cullen could tell, everyone, aside from him, was in such a good mood that the drinking had already started.
The Iron Bull was sitting on a keg while he drank from another. Literally. Directly from it. It was a small one, but nonetheless. Varric was standing in the middle of the fighting ring that was soon to be graced by the Leader of the Inquisition and her Commander. The shady dwarf was furiously taking down every last bet before the fight. His notebook having filled long ago, he was now writing on scraps of parchment, his pockets overflowing with them.
A few of Cullen's soldiers came up to him to offer congratulations or words of encouragement. He nodded politely in response. It was all he could manage. He was certain they wouldn't want to be congratulated either if they were in his position. And he couldn't help but wonder if some of them were thinking exactly that when he noticed a pitying look accompany their words.
Evelyn didn't say anything when she approached. She looked down at him sweetly and then pulled him up, grabbing his arm. He allowed himself to be led to an alcove behind the stairs, where they were concealed from view.
He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't Evelyn pressing herself against him, covering his lips with hers and scorching him with a kiss so deep he nearly forgot where he was. Her body was warm, her lips were delicious, she smelled of sunlight and sweat and combined with the disturbing aroused feeling that still lingered on him after watching her fight Cassandra, he was dangerously close to forgetting himself entirely and having her up against the wall.
She breathed a soft humming sound against his mouth as her clever tongue teased at his. She ground her pelvis wantonly into him, the leather of his breeches doing nothing to shield him from her erotic assault.
A disgraceful moan escaped him, against his rapidly thinning will. He muttered a curse in protest even as he ran his fingers into her hair, grabbing fistfuls of the dark silk and pulling her closer.
"What are you doing?" He murmured, but he didn't pull away. One of her legs slid up his thigh and wrapped itself around his waist. She pulled herself up enough to whisper in his ear.
"I knew you'd come to my rescue, Commander." He shivered when her breath caressed him as she spoke. "I just wanted to thank you. Let's make our match quick so we can retire early..."
She started nipping at his neck when they heard someone calling for the Inquisitor. She sighed and released him, giving him one last smile before she turned and hurried back to the courtyard.
Cullen let out a long breath and slumped back against the wall. For the first time today, he and Evelyn were of the same mind. He wanted nothing more than to be finished here, and even better if he could take her straight up to bed. It was settled. They would have done with their match as quickly as possible.
Cullen straightened and adjusted himself awkwardly. He walked slowly back out to the courtyard thinking his trials were almost at an end, but something suddenly occurred to him and he stopped in his tracks.
What did she mean?
He stared straight ahead at nothing, his chest tightening, his head aching. Did she mean for him to defeat her quickly? Or did she mean for him to let her win?
The implications of making the wrong decision flooded his mind. If he took her down quickly, gently of course, but quickly, and she had actually intended to win, it would certainly hurt her pride. And he had already seen what festered when her pride was hurt. He had no desire to end up on the wrong side of her ire.
But if he took it easy on her and let her win, it was possible that would lead to damaged pride as well. She might accuse him of not taking her seriously.
If he chose wrong, his hopes of a warm Evelyn in his bed after a trying day would be dashed in short order. He stood in a daze, weighing his options when he heard Varric call out to him. He had Dorian in tow.
"Let's go, Curly, we're about to get started here. Hey! What's wrong with you? Why are you just standing there...wait, shit. She got to you didn't she? That sneaky little minx."
Got to him? What did that mean? Cullen just looked down at Varric quizzically.
Dorian grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Snap out of it, man! Don't you see what she's done to you? She seduced you didn't she? Of course she did. It's what I would have done."
Cullen extricated himself from Dorian's grasp, trying to hide the heat rising to his face. "What are you talking about?"
"There's no shame in it, Curly." Varric offered. "She loved you up a little behind the wall there, right? She was trying to soften you up so she can win and make it seem like it was your idea. You wouldn't be the first man to throw a fight for sex. Frankly, you wouldn't even be the first today."
"The dwarf is right. She's toying with your head." Cullen raised an eyebrow at Dorian. "The other one, Commander. Focus. Fortunately you have us to guide you through this storm and avoid that Siren's call." Dorian clapped him on the back and then gathered him into a huddle with Varric. "What exactly did she say to you?"
Cullen couldn't believe it. Although after today, he should. Was he so easily manipulated? Could he really be brought so low by a kiss and a promise? He had actually been considering letting her win. How would that have looked to his men? He knew exactly how it would have looked. It would have looked like their Commander exchanged his pride for sex. He wasn't about to let that happen. Evelyn had told him more than once that he was going to need to learn how to play the Game at some point. So, steeling his resolve, he answered Dorian. "She said we should end the match swiftly, but offered no strategy."
"Hmm. That means she's going to come at you hard and fast, so be prepared." Varric said. "I don't think she'll go after you like she did Cassandra though, she probably wouldn't want to hurt that pretty face of yours." Cullen just rolled his eyes.
It was Dorian's turn now. "She's going to expect you to hesitate. She meant to confuse you. 'Should you attack her?' 'Should you let her win?' These are the things she knows you'll be asking yourself. She wants you to be too busy wondering how to keep her in your bed so you forget to fight back when she goes for your jugular. Well, don't believe it, Commander. That girl is going to be in your bed regardless. You're her weakness, you see, but she can hardly admit that to you. You don't have anything to worry about here." Dorian concluded his argument with authority. "I see no reason not to take her down."
"No, no, no, as usual the Vint's got it wrong." A slightly inebriated Bull had sauntered over to them, apparently hearing their conversation. "Well, I suppose he's got the outcome right, but not the motivation."
"Do tell, Tiny." Varric asked, crossing his arms. "What are we not seeing?"
"Women in power need a reprieve from it occasionally. Especially in the bedroom." Bull poked a finger into Cullen's chest. "You're her reprieve. She doesn't want you to throw the fight. She wants you to win. She just wants you to think she's trying to manipulate a win for herself. She's got her own pride and reputation to protect here too, you know? So she plays the game and makes it seem likes she's plotting your downfall, when really she wants you to take charge, be a man and win at all costs. Show the boss who's boss. She wants it, trust me. Give her what she wants and I bet tonight will be the best sex you ever had."
Varric and Dorian nodded their heads in apparent agreement with Bull's overly complicated assessment. Cullen was having trouble keeping up with the convoluted nonsense of all this...scheming. He slowly formed a question trying to wrap his head around things. "Are you telling me that she tried to manipulate me into losing, but is secretly hoping I ignore her and, in fact, defeat her?"
"Yes!"
"Of course!"
"You got it!"
The three men answered at the same time. Cullen hung his throbbing head and rested it in his hands. "For Maker's sake.."
"Pull it together, Curly." Varric ordered. Was there anyone today who wasn't trying to tell him what to do? "There's a lot of coin on this fight. It's time for you to do your duty to males everywhere and go out there and win."
"Much as I hate to admit it, Commander, this giant brute's argument makes sense." Dorian managed to look down his nose at the much taller Bull. "Our Inquisitor can't very well ask to get beaten, can she? She has to put up a good front, make it seem like she wants to come out on top, when really she wants you on top. Understand?"
Cullen just growled in frustration. He was done talking. "No. I don't. And I don't give a damn anymore. She's going down."
