Chapter 8: Confessions

After that dream with Solas, mornings were a challenge. She had long stopped crying. Though she went through every routine-war table meetings, formal judgments, and training sessions—finding motivation or energy for anything was difficult. Sometimes, things that she loved such as reading, gardening or riding became chores. There was a darkspawn magister loose, a possible assassination at the Winter Palace, Grey Wardens amassing a demon army, and an upcoming march towards Adamant Fortress, but she had no energy for anything. Despite everything, nothing felt real.

Cassandra suggested vigils, but vigils did nothing for her since she did not believe in the Maker. Asking Solas for anything was not an option, and she did not want Cullen to see her such. Dorian was much more patient. At first, he started with giving her breakfast and reading with her some of the funniest things he found in the things he read about Southern Chantry history. And he listened. Though she thought at first that he would think her mad or possessed, he did not do so. He believed her. And in those times that she just cried, he held her and reassured her that crying was alright and that there would be days when she would not feel that way. Before, she listened to him and helped him with his father. He reminded her that he was also her friend and that they were fighting this war together after all.

Soon, Dorian got his friend up in the morning. Mornings and exercise were all important in getting her better, he often repeatedly told her. Getting up in the morning with Dorian helped make things a lot easier, and so did the sight of a bunch of shirtless male soldiers jogging their way in the morning.

"They do this every morning?" Athdhea asked as she ogled at the muscled bodies.

Dorian gave naughty smile. "Quite motivating aren't they?"

"Uh-huh." There were no other words that she could use to describe this sight.

As the parade of abs and muscles passed them, she teased, "So…what's going on between you and Iron Bull exactly? I could not help but notice him flexing more and more in your direction."

Dorian rolled his eyes. "If only there was some discreet bone in that lummox…We are friends, but there are times when I don't' want people to know about this, just like I wouldn't want anyone to know I fancy Ferelden beer. At first, it was an ill-considered night after drinking…"

The soldier's marching song grew louder. And Dorian told her details. Perhaps too many details at some points. Not that she minded.

"I don't know what's 'going on' to be honest," Dorian concluded. "I suspect neither has the Bull."

"So is that why he left a note the other day saying that he was taking the Chargers for a few days for a small job?"

"We decided to give each other some space to think things through. And he did not want to pressure me about feelings…if I am having them. Honestly, that sappy lump of..." Dorian sighed. "Now that I said it, my ancestors are officially turning over their graves. Ah, well."

"But you," Dorian smirked, nudging her on the shoulder. "My friend, possibly have something more interesting going on."

"If this is about Solas, I don't want to talk about—"

"This is definitely not about that conceited hobo wood-elf," Dorian interrupted. "I am talking about our Commander over there."

Just as Dorian mentioned it, Cullen walked down the steps right on cue. His arms crossed, he gave the order for Rylen to halt the march. "What? Cullen? He's just—"

"Don't look!" Dorian ordered, putting an arm around her. "Turn around."

"I don't see why—"

"Just turn!"

She did as he asked. She watched Dorian's face contort as he peered out, and then smile. "Ah there! See the way he broods now that he sees us!"

She slightly turned back to look. "How can I see it if I can't—"

"Quiet!" Dorian abruptly turned her head back around with his other hand. "I'm trying to prove a point here. There you go. The passion, the longing, and the jealousy…It somewhat makes me jealous." His smile grew wider. "Now let's quietly walk away before Cullen marches over here and smites me."

She did as she was told. As soon as they got back her room, she exclaimed. "You did not even let me see anything!"

He laughed. "It's for the best. Your poor heart would probably not have been able to take it. I almost melted, you know."

She shook her head amusedly. "I'm glad you've found a way to amuse yourself."

"But case in point…" A naughty smile played on his lips as he leaned on the table and placed both his hands on his cheeks. "Someone likes you…"

"You're imagining things!" She rolled her eyes. "The man himself came to me and told me that he is not interested."

"But that was some time ago. And a lot of things have happened since then. Some people can change and develop these things called 'feelings.' Trust me: I know how things can get complicated."

"Yeah, tell me about it." She said, running her fingers through her hair.

"And I've seen that date you had on the ship to Denerim, and the way you both looked at each other with googly eyes. Warms the heart."

"It wasn't a date," she recollected "I was just there, he happened to come by and he decided to stay. Really, it was just us standing over the water, possibly trying not to get seasick. Then he started telling me things. And from that time, I knew I could trust him because he trusted me. So I guess, it was special in a way. But not in the way that you think."

"A mundane date then." Then he victoriously raised his arms as if he thought of something clever. "Ah! A mundate!"

"A mundate?" she asked. Her brows rose incredulously.

"It's when two people find something special in a place or time no one really considers special. That's a mundate and it doesn't happen to everyone. You lucky wench."

Athdhea laughed. "That should be in a dictionary. But Cullen and I…it's impossible. We are so different."

"Yes, that's how it usually starts." He pinched her reddening cheeks. "Oh you do look so adorable when you blush!"

"Fenedhis! Or how do you humans say it? … Fuck off Dorian!"

Dorian laughed again. "Now, now…You really should not pause when you swear. It ruins the effect."

After a bit more playful swearing, Dorian reassured his friend that he would always be there for her, and that she should take whatever time she needs to be happy. Romance, after all, is not necessary for happiness, even if it helps sometimes. At least, that was what he said. But she could not help but be suspicious based on the sly grin he had when he left.


One of the first things Athdhea asked for as Inquisitor was a library. So Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine and Cullen all made efforts to fill it as much as possible. The books took several months to gather but Cullen was satisfied with the outcome. Dorian, however, had much to say about it.

"All these 'gifts' to the Inquisition," Dorian grumbled. "And the best they can do is The Malefica Imperio? Trite propaganda! But if you want twenty volumes on whether Divine Galatea took a shit on Sunday, this is evidently the best place to find it."

Athdhea and Dorian mage were becoming fast friends, and perhaps even more. Word was that the Tevinter mage was visiting her in her room daily. One morning, he found the both of the mage with his arms around her. And Cullen did not like any of it one bit. So Cullen did the best thing that every jealous person would do: know thy enemy.

Unlike Josephine or Cassandra though, his skills at conversation were not exactly top notch. Thus, he resolved to do it the best way he could—chess.

It was surprisingly easy to get him to play for a round. The mage came willingly with just one invitation. He could not decide if he should be frustrated or amused at how the mage often tried to provoke him, while he cheated. He always cheated. It felt like he cheated because he wanted to annoy him. Having a board in front of him was not really chess, but a game of confidence and charisma.

After one chess game came another, and then another. Because each game somewhat offended him, Cullen just had to do it again. And when he finally found the words and the opportunity, as Dorian called it, to "sass" him back, Dorian looked pleased.

Then one day, she dropped by. As they played, she studied the pieces curiously, and had a few exchanges with Dorian on the names and purpose of each piece. The way her brows furrowed as she examined the board, and the way she blinked with each new change in the game, he was almost distracted. Almost.

"You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory, Commander," Dorian gloated. "You'll feel much better."

Of course Dorian cheated again. A bishop appeared where it wasn't supposed to be. But it did not matter. The game was his.

"Really?" Queen to G2. Checkmate. "Because I just won. And I feel fine."

There was nothing better than wiping the smirk off Dorian's face every time.

"Don't get smug. There'll be no living with you." Always the sore loser.

He was about to head off as well when he noticed her disappointment that the game had ended. "I should return to my duties as well," he told her. "Unless you would care for a game?"

Her eyes lit up as if excited. "Really? Prepare the board then. First time for everything. So go easy, please?"

"I can't promise that," he smiled. "In my experience, tough loses are always the best teachers."

She shook her head. "There you go…always the taskmaster." She picked white. Pawn to D4.

Black knight to F6. White bishop to G5. For someone new at the game, she had very aggressive first moves.

Then he started talking about Mia, how she gave him a series of defeats, how he practiced with Branson everyday, and how she looked that day when he finally won. "Between serving the Templars and the Inquisition, I haven't seen them in years. I wonder if she…still plays."

Pawn to G6. White bishop captures on F6. Pawn captures on F6. And just like that, she compromised his pawn structure. Too clever, especially for someone's supposed first time.

"You have siblings?" she asked. Pawn to C4.

"They moved to South Reach after the Blight. I do not write to them as often as I should." He told her stories. Her eyes met as they talked. And just like that, he almost forgot it was his turn. Pawn to D5.

"Alright. Let's see what you've got." White pawn captures on D5.

Black queen captures on D5. White knight to C3. Cullen thought to himself, whether she was lying about this being her first time, the game at least would prove to be fun.

Her pieces immediately took control of the center of the board, making him put up a tight defense. As they did, she talked about various clan members she missed, and he in turn, talked more about his family: Mia's constant nagging, Branson and all his girlfriends, and Rosalie's antics. Before he knew it, hours flew by quickly.

She made some mistakes, and he managed to flag her down a few times. She sacrificed a bishop and a knight, but in doing so, she also cleared paths for two of her pawns to become queen.

"This may be the longest we've gone without discussing the Inquisition—or related matters," Cullen remarked. "To be honest, I appreciate the distraction."

"We should do this more often then," she replied smiling.

"I would like that!"

"Me too," was her almost silent answer. His eyes met hers, and the world seemed to stop. She said that, and it was more than enough for him to be almost drunk with happiness.

Pawn to D8. White gets a second queen. He almost forgot that the match was still on.

"We should…finish our game, right? My turn?" Pawn to G1. Black also gets a second queen. Cullen would not let her win so easily.

"Alright, let's end this," she replied determinedly.

White queen captures on F7. Check. He did not see that one coming. Black king to H6. White queen to H7. Checkmate.

And just like that, she won. "I believe this one is yours. Well played."

She beamed. "Thank you. That was fun."

"But you have to be honest with me here: is it really your first time playing this?"

She smiled guiltily. "To be honest, I have no idea. Would you think I am crazy if I say maybe? That I may have played this, forgot and suddenly remembered. It's bizarre, really. And insane."

"Not insane, but wonderful. As you always are." He was getting ahead of himself, and he almost did not know how to stop.

She stared at him as she said those last words, and then snickered. "Wonderful? I am sure that's not what everyone would say."

"I beg to differ then."

"Oh Creators! I almost forgot!" she suddenly exclaimed. "I was supposed to meet Dorian and Varric at the tavern half an hour ago."

Of course, that mage again. But he kept his jealously in. "But of course, good day milady."

He was about to walk away, when her voice called, "Wait! Unless…you would want to join us? What better time to get to know one another than now, right?"

Not knowing what came over him, he said yes. He watched the two joke, flirt and laugh with one another, while he slowly sipped his pint and Varric coaxed him about a game called Wicked Grace. It was a mistake. After his second pint, he got up to leave.

"You're not leaving after only two drinks, are you Curly?" Varric remarked.

"I believe I must. I have a thousand things that need my attention."

At that point, she had a concerned look in her face, and he could not tell for what reason. Dorian, who had an arm around her shoulders, added a bit too giddily, "Oh come now Commander, we've not gotten enough drinks to any secrets yet. And this lady here has plenty!"

"Dorian!" she protested, her cheeks turning to a shade of crimson.

Usually, he thought that anything beyond two drinks was irresponsible, but this was an exception. So, he sat down again as Dorian called the bartender for another round of drinks. But soon, he felt that everything around him drew suddenly hot, and then he could not remember anything else.

The next morning, he missed the drills, awoke with a massive headache, and noticed that he wasn't wearing anything except for his knickers. And he couldn't find his armor.

Maker, what happened?

The door of his office opened below, and Dorian walked in with a large tray and two bowls. Though his head still throbbed, he quickly donned a shirt and trousers and went downstairs.

"Good morning, Com…mander…I hope your headache is not as disastrous as mine…" he called groggily with some mock enthusiasm. "I was tasked with this…peace…offering: Hangover soup: courtesy of…the Inquisitor. Dalish recipe, I think. Tried some…It's not too bad"

The sun was still hurting his eyes, but he noticed a large black circle on Dorian's forehead. "Ugh. What happened to you? Who among the soldiers did that to you?"

"You did," Dorian replied matter-of-factly setting down the tray on his table.

Cullen's eyes squinted with the headache and confusion. "Hold on. I did what to you? Maker, I'm—"

Dorian held his hand up interrupting him. "Ah…before you start raving apologies…I may have deserved it."

"Why? What did you do? How—"

"Long story!" Dorian interrupted again. "I hate…long stories. Don't you?"

Cullen stared. "It depends on the story."

The two slowly sipped the warm soup. It was spicy, but Cullen felt how it slowly jolted him back to his senses. When the two slightly sobered up, Dorian began, "Alright, short version: We both got very drunk. There was some sort of drunken challenge and I may have accidentally conjured a giant spider…"

Cullen protested, "Athdhea is deathly afraid of spiders!"

"Now I know," Dorian replied with much regret, "The things you learn too late about the friends you care about…Anyway, before I permanently traumatized our dear girl, you leapt to her rescue and put your fist right up to this charming face. That's all I remember, and it still hurts…"

"What happened to my clothes and my armor?" Cullen demanded.

Dorian shrugged. "Perhaps you set it on fire? Pity. I would have paid to see that. But that's not the most important thing here… She never told me anything, but I can't help shake the feeling that you told her something important last night…"

Cullen spat out the spoonful that he just took. Then things flashed before him. After the bar fight, he remembered feeling the weight of his armor, her arms trying its to support him, that feeling of relief after unburdening himself of his armor and clothes, and her Elvish cursing and chiding for him to put his clothes back on. And then he told her those feelings that he wanted to tell her from the time he almost lost her on Haven.

So she knows.

After he finished his share, Dorian got up and took his staff.

"Where are you going?" Cullen asked.

"Last night's events made things a lot clearer for me. I'm going to find a dragon and confess my feelings to that Beast, though he may not deserve it."

Cullen glanced at the mage with some disbelief. What beast? Did that mean that he was mistaken all along?

Before any other questions came up in his head, Dorian added, "Life is too short, Commander. And my friend has been hurt a lot, but I believe you both have a chance to be happy."

Just like that he left. He heard that Cassandra, Varric and Athdhea followed him to the Hinterlands in search of a dragon. They two together again, but this time, it felt different. If she knew about his feelings, why did she not confront him then, and she usually did. If there was anything that he knew about her, he knew that she was not one to hold anything back. And he always admired that about her.

The days that passed gave him a bit of time to think, and to restore his dignity in front of his men. Strangely enough, the drunken antics of that night seemed to have raised morale. Still, he could not get over the looks that his men started giving him. As soon as the gossip reached Josephine and Leliana, the two teased him endlessly.

She did come back after a few days, but they barely got the opportunity to talk. Nonetheless, he could not help but notice that she somewhat softened around him, and the way she looked at him, it was always as if she had something to say but was not saying it.

Finally, one morning, she burst into his office. With much determination in her voice, she declared, "Cullen: we need to talk. Alone."

And he could not refuse. If she was going to reprimand him for impropriety and to tell him to keep his distance and remember his place, he felt like he deserved it. So he followed her up the battlements and resigned himself to his fate.


The smoke started to clear. Athdhea started to see the charred rocks and trees around her. They just killed a dragon, one whose tail almost fell on her when Cassandra landed the killing blow. The dragon's mass obscured most of her view of Varric and Cassandra who stooped low examining a pair of legs, which are the visible part of Dorian after he dove into the dead creature's mouth to grab something. Even from the other side, he could hear his voice, "Come off you slimy excuse for a molar!"

Athdhea called, "How's the dental work?"

Moments later, Dorian emerged out of the dragon's mouth, his skin and hair covered in dragon slime. Victoriously, he lifted his prize: a dragon tooth for the Bull. Hours later, as Dorian stood over the requisition table about to split the tooth, Athdhea thought about things she needed to say to someone. Sometimes, it is easier to face dragons than one's own feelings.

Growing up in a clan with dozens of ma'asa'ma'lins, ba'isa'ma'lins and lots of esa'var'lins, Athdhea never felt alone, and anything romantic felt incestuous, even though technically she was not related to any of them. And at around fourteen, she thought she was well on her way to spinsterhood when she proudly declared to everyone, after being pronounced First, that she would never need a husband. Until that time she left for the Conclave, she never thought about needing anyone.

And then there was her Friend, whose name she probably would never know. She wasn't sure if it was love, but she felt that there was always something that pulled her thoughts to him. Because in the saddest and loneliest moments of her life, he was always there. But even if he was always there, he was also somewhere she could never reach. Chasing his shadows only made her feel sad.

When Dorian suggested that Cullen might have feelings for her, she almost dismissed it. Yes, they disagreed. They have been through a lot and he proved that he will always be there if she needed him. But she never really thought of being with him, because they were so different. And the man did tell her once that he was not interested. Still, her curiosity was peaked, and she decided to spend more time with Cullen to test the waters.

Playing chess and sitting out on a boat with him showed that he had a warm, carefree side of him to balance out his competitive nature. At least he was not a warmonger all the time, and she actually enjoyed his company. And they trusted each other.

But when he was with other people, he usually looked impatient and annoyed. To his credit, he may have had more important things to do, and she distracted him from it. Yes, they were friends, but she was also her Commander. He probably just could not say no, even though she never ordered him to follow her to the tavern.

And then the stupid men dared each other to a drinking game and got seriously drunk.

Because Men.

Cullen seemed to have fallen asleep after three drinks, and she regretted not having in it in her to stop him. After observing that Dorian may have been getting too drunk and red from the ale, she entreated, "Ok, Dorian: this may have to be your last drink. I think Bull will kill me in my sleep if I let you drink more than this without him…"

"Oh that Beast?" Dorian repeated weakly. "I can…summon him…right now…"

Dorian muttered under his breath, and the next moment, a large spider emerged from the ground. Immediately, there were screams and a lot of the people who were singing and drinking the moment before this, stampeded outside.

The creature, baring its large fangs, directed its large red eyes at her.

"Sparkles, I think you may have summoned the wrong boyfriend," Varric said with a bit of a quake in his voice. "Now may be a good time to unsummon it."

"What?" Dorian protested drunkenly. "We're drinking! The more the merrier!"

Athdhea stared at the creature defiantly trying not to show her fear. Since that disastrous time at the Storm Coast, she started summoning little spiders to steel herself. It was Templars, not spiders who killed your parents…It wasn't spiders…It wasn't spiders…If only her Spirit blade hilt was not on the other side of the room past the creature…

Without warning, the creature charged at Athdhea. She dodged its attack. Its fangs narrowly missed her sleeve. Too close

"Anytime now, Varric…" she called with shallowed breaths, her chest tightening.

"I would love to Squirrel, but Bianca's on the other side of the room."

Just as the room was starting to blur around her, she heard a clang and a loud crash where Dorian and Cullen were sitting. The creature suddenly disappeared.

When her eyes started adjusting again, she noticed Dorian passed out on the table and Cullen towering wobbly above him. "Annoying mage," he muttered before passing out again with a loud crash on the same table.

"Well, I guess that works too…" Varric said under his breath.

Varric, with a little bit of help, managed to take Dorian to an upstairs room. Athdhea, feeling responsible for the chaos, took it upon herself to bring drag Cullen to his room. After all, the man did save her and Varric a few moments ago. The only problem was that, even with all her training, the ex-templar's armor was weighing her down especially after climbing a flight of stairs. She almost regretted taking on the task.

After setting Cullen down on one corner, she tried her best to not feel his taut muscles as she loosened his armor. Even in his sleep, she almost admitted to herself that the man looked almost perfect. Almost.

She set his armor aside on one corner, leaving a note. Tomorrow, hopefully someone will find it and bring it to the Commander. If not, she will have to send someone to bring it to him. Then she heard some ruffling clothes in the direction of where she left Cullen.

"Andraste's flames, why is it so damn hot?" she heard him mutter.

Good, he's finally awake.

Upon turning back on his direction, her eyes widened as she stared at Cullen standing almost completely naked save for his underwear, which in her eyes, left very little to the imagination.

"Dread Wolf on a cart!" she screamed. "Cullen: put your clothes back on right now!"

"What issue do you have…against my clothes?" he dazedly ranted as he unsteadily shuffled towards her. "Even Josephine, hates them…"

"I have no issue with your clothes," she barked nervously trying to avert her eyes away from him. "I only have an issue with you without clothes." Of course, that was a lie. A part of her was secretly enjoying the view.

He lazily draped his arm around her shoulder. "Alright, dear lady, take me back to sea before I start turning back to foam…"

She tried not to laugh as she was secretly enjoying this side of him. With her carrying some of his weight, they hobbled slowly towards his office.

"I know a lot of people think that it's a girl's story," he sleepily whispered, "But there are times that I think of myself as a mermaid."

Athdhea snickered.

"You laugh…but it is sometimes true. There are times, I don't mind giving up everything just to be where you are. Because you are so far away, and we are so different…"

At that point, she almost stopped on her tracks but she continued on with him. Some of what he said might ring true, and she tried to convince herself that it was all drunken gibberish.

"That time when I almost lost you at Haven…I wanted to tell you…how sorry I was. I never told you…that I loved you. And even now, I can't tell you, because you are the Inquisitor. And you are far beyond my reach. That is why, I don't mind giving up my voice, if only I can get to be in your world, even if you may never notice or feel the same way that I do…Even if I turn into foam, I don't really mind…Because that is how much I want to be with you…"

Cullen fell asleep almost immediately as she helped him to his bed and covered him with blankets. She examined his sleeping form as she thought about what he just said. If the ale had indeed turned him into an honest drunk, she would have to think through how she feels about this—what she feels about him.

It was all unclear. She hardly knew anything about this man, except that they often disagreed, and that at times his smile felt like the winter sun—rare and strangely nourishing.

She thought she had feelings for someone else, but she also didn't mind being with this man before her. Those times when he drove her mad, when they raged at each other and when she was angry at herself for almost not fulfilling her promise to him were real. Those times when she could kill only to know what he was thinking was real. Those moments when he made her smile were real. The warm feeling of that sunset when gazed at the sea as he told her his secret was real. The breezy afternoon that he spent with her playing chess was real. The way he saved her a few moments ago as if by instinct was real. He was real.

There were times when she too wondered where they would stand if only they were not mage and templar, or elf and human. In his own way, he gave her a glimpse of what it feels like to be, in their own terms, human.

But all of it felt muddled to her, and the next morning, she sent Dorian because she could not bring herself to see him. The day after, she left with Dorian so she could give herself time to think. And when they return to Skyhold, perhaps her feelings would somehow be clearer.

As she gazed at Dorian as they raced back to Skyhold almost right after the exhausting dragon fight, she thought to herself how lucky her friend was to know exactly what he wanted.

Days passed after her return to Skyhold, and she delayed the impending confrontation. War meetings became especially harder, because seeing him and hardly being able to say anything to him was almost painful. She never wanted him to know how cowardly she was.

At last, after one war table meeting, she summoned the courage to speak to him after Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine left the room. Summoning as much determination in her voice as she could, she said, "Cullen: we need to talk. Alone."

"Alone?" Cullen repeated nervously. "I mean, of course…"

The pair walked silently along the battlements, a nervous tension filled the surrounding air. Athdhea hardly knew where they were going, and she almost wanted to kick herself for asking to talk to him when she could hardly say a word.

"It's a nice day," Cullen muttered awkwardly.

"What?" was the only word she could reply. Curses.

"It's…" he replied hesitantly. "There was something you wished to discuss…"

Athdhea shook her head unable to bear the nervous frustration. "It definitely has nothing to do with the weather…"

"I assumed that much," he answered, looking away nervously, "I can't say I haven't wondered what I would say to you in this sort of situation."

"You don't have to wonder. You already said something of the sort. That night when I had to carry you back to your office after you got ridiculously drunk."

His cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "Maker! What did I say?"

"You told me that you were a mermaid, and that you wanted to be with me more than anything. I really didn't want to say anything, but the past several days I wondered, how much of it is really true…" There, she said it.

"Minus the mermaid part: all of it," he admitted succinctly.

"What stopped you from telling me all this before? I remember you telling me many months ago that you had no interest in pursuing any kind of relationship…"

"That was before I realized how blind I was. And many things have changed since then." He turned to face her, and she recognized the same confusion in his eyes as hers. "You're the Inquisitor now. We're at war. And you…I didn't think it was possible."

"So did I," she confessed. And at that moment, as she examined the reflection of his earnest brown eyes. She realized that she wanted to stay in that moment when her eyes met his. This time, she was not going to run away. "Yet, I am still here. And I'm not going anywhere."

"So you are…It seemed unreal." His body slowly inched closer. "I thought it was too much to ask." His voice lowered slightly. "But I want to."

She closed her eyes as he lowered his head towards hers. Her breathing slightly hitched. Time slowed as she felt one hand at the curve of her hips, and the other feel the corner of her lips.

She expected the touch of his lips, until a nearby door slammed open and a voice shouted out, "Commander!"

Time suddenly resumed its normal pace, and she felt its whiplash. Blood rushed to her face with both embarrassment and disappointment. What, in Fen Harel's ass, is wrong with time? Oh, Fen fucking Harel the betrayer.

"You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana's report," said the offending scout cluelessly, as if he had not noticed what was happening.

"What?!" Cullen growled.

"Sister Leliana's report…you wanted it delivered without delay." Then she observed the scouts eyes dart towards hers and then his glowering commander. "Or…to your office…right…"

Athdhea almost felt bad for the scout as he rushed out as quickly as he came. Almost. But then the moment was gone, and Cullen obviously has many other things to attend to, which she distracted him from. "If you need to—"

She could not even muffle the rest of that sentence as Cullen swallowed the rest of her words with a kiss. While the kiss began ravenously, Cullen gently eased the assault to move more slowly to match the coaxing of her lips. She wanted this. It was he who began it, but it was her who wanted more of it, more of him. It was as if all of Thedas spun around and time forgot them for a moment. And she needed to breathe. She sighed disappointedly to his mouth when he broke the kiss.

Her senses heightened with his warmth, his closeness. For a moment, he gazed at her, and muttered an apology, "I'm sorry. That was, uh, very nice…"

"Nice enough for you to try again?" she coyly teased.

His lips curved boyishly. "Most certainly, my lady…" True to his assertions, he tipped her chin and took her in his arms again for another kiss. This time, they took their time. Maps, scouts, meetings and the rest of Thedas be damned.

Cullen was real, and he smelled of warm summer afternoons. He was everything she needed. And this is just the way she always wanted to feel.

A/N: Sorry I took some time with this. I got too busy with life and my thesis.

I purposefully kept this chapter very light as the next one is expected to be chaotic.

I also take a bit of time with the next one, as I am fairly busy this semester, but hopefully not too long.

Thanks for reading!

Music for the week: Something Just Like This – The Chainsmokers and Coldplay. (see watch?v=FM7MFYoylVs)