Cullen knew something had changed. He did not know what. He did not know how or when. But he knew something had definitely changed. He felt energetic. Not that he had felt lethargic previously… Now, he actually felt enthused about his work. Reports—he read and completed them without complaint. Council meetings—he was the first one in the door. Instructing the new recruits—he happily corrected, mostly using demonstrations instead of just barking at them. His new behavior hadn't gone unnoticed. Leliana would sometimes stare at him suspiciously as though trying to figure out why he seemed different. He doubted that she would. Cullen, himself, did not know the reason for it. Varric noticed as well, and remarked that he was a freak of nature. Coming from the dwarf that believed nature was a freak of nature, the Commander did not take the comment to heart.
Besides, he liked feeling vigorous. He felt like the Inquisition was making progress. Perhaps that was the reason. The change within him came from the Inquisition's development. It was good to be a part of it, after all. At the moment, he was looking over the map. His focus trained on the Hinterlands. There were more opportunities there. Soon, the building of the watchtowers would be complete, and the Herald would return seeking aid for the Inquisition from the horsemaster. His horses would benefit them. Also, the Hinterlands had plenty of materials for requisitions. Cullen would be sure to have a recruit inform the Herald of such whenever something could possibly help.
The door creaked open, causing the Commander to shift his gaze. The Herald entered, peering around first before entering. She saw him. Her lips curled as she closed the door behind her. Cullen cleared his throat, straightening his back. "Herald," he greeted. The horned woman nodded her head and greeted him by title as well. "Did you sleep well?"
"It was fine. But what I wouldn't give for a more comfortable bed," she replied. "What about you? You're here early. The meeting doesn't start for another ten minutes."
"I'm… usually here before everyone else." In truth, he was normally later than both Josephine and Leliana. Suddenly, his sleep patterns had changed. However, he had not felt tired in the mornings anymore, which had allowed him to come here earlier. Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, glancing upward towards her horns. "I have something for you," he stated. His hand reached into the chest on the table. What he wanted was right on top. He pulled two papers. "These letters are addressed to you. The first one had unfortunately been hidden and forgotten. I apologize on behalf of my subordinate." He handed her the first letter. Her yellow eyes scanned over the words, widened, and then looked over the words again slowly. Her brow knitted together, and then her expression relaxed. She chuckled lightly.
"Shokrakar…" she murmured. Oh, so that was the correct pronunciation? Good thing he had not tried to say it out loud to her. She gaze moved to him. "And the second…?"
"Yes," Cullen nodded, giving her the second letter. "This one came earlier this morning, along with an amulet and a battle-axe." She sucked in a sharp gasp, and then her eyes fell on him again. "Commander, you found them…"
"I said I would," he responded. "I know how much this means to you." A slight smile appeared on his face. "The way you go on about them when we talk, it's hard not to know." The Herald bit her lower lip. She set the letters down on the table. A slow breath left her. It certainly was not the reaction he had believed she would have. He had expected a smile… at the very least. "Herald…? Did I so something wrong?"
"No, sorry…" Her voice came out in a whisper. She cleared her throat. "I just really want to hug you right now." Cullen swallowed hard. His shoulders tensed. The Herald lifted her hand. "I'll refrain, though. Thank you, Commander. It does mean a lot."
"Y-Yes." He bit the inside of his mouth, somehow feeling thwarted. That was ridiculous, though. He was not some villain with nefarious plans all to obtain a hug. He… He didn't even want a hug. Just a smile. That's all. Then her lips curled. Both corners, and his heart skipped. Heat blossomed in his cheeks, as they did every time she smiled his way. For the briefest of moments, he wasn't able to think. "You could hug me if you want," he muttered, looking away.
"What was that, Commander?"
"Nothing…! It was nothing!" He cleared his throat loudly. Apparently, in those briefest of moments, he became a fool. "Ah, um… The watchtowers are nearing completion. I suggest leaving in two days. By the time you reach the Hinterlands, they should be done."
"And Dennet will relinquish his horses," the Herald said, nodding. Good. She didn't seem to notice the slip. "The Inquisition will have what they need, and keep moving on to fix this world." She sighed. "Progress. I guess. In the meantime, I'll… do what I always do while waiting."
"So then… later… you'll watch the training of the recruits?" The Herald would often leave the gates of Haven to watch the training. Normally, he would find her sitting on the stone steps, merely observing, for hours. Then in the next moment, she would be gone as though she were never there. Admittedly, for all her watching, he wished to know her opinion on the regime. But she never said a word about her observations.
"Of course, amongst other things. I must know of their progress as well." She blinked owlishly. "Wait… Why are you asking? Are they intimidated by my presence? Should I not watch them in plain sight?"
"No! No, of course not!" Cullen objected. "Why would you-? No! Please… continue to watch at your leisure."
"Oh… Well, if you're sure," the Herald said. She arched a brow, causing him to press his lips together. Perhaps he had protested too aggressively? "I do enjoy watching them become better… under your instruction. You're quite good, Commander." Cullen bit the inside of his mouth again, feeling his face warm. It had seemed as though she had complimented him. "When I returned and saw you with them, I mistakenly assumed you only yelled. True as your shouts were, I didn't think you… participated."
"I am quite capable, Herald."
"I know," she replied smoothly, clasping her hands behind her back. She opened her mouth to continue, but the door opened. Both Leliana and Josephine entered. The women greeted each other before moving onward to business. During the meeting, he did not say much. Business as usual. But after it was over, and the two advisors left, Cullen caught her attention again. "Yes, Commander?"
"Ah… I was wondering how you felt about the progress of the recruits. You watch them every day. Do you have any criticisms?" he asked.
"No," she answered, tone sounded just a bit confused. "As I said, you are good at what you do. Their improvement shows they are following someone strict and passionate—a fine commander." She crossed her arms. "Though, if you must ask, I'll say their training is a bit… restricted. For now, it's not a problem, but later on it could be…"
"Yes, I realize as well," Cullen murmured. "With new recruits coming seemingly every day, their training space is limited. A change in location would benefit them, but I don't wish to take them further from Haven in case of emergency."
"Ah, that's why." She then shrugged again. "Well, I'm sure you'll think of something when you cross that bridge. Right now, it's great, so I wouldn't worry about it."
"I am so glad for your nonchalance, Herald." Cullen suppressed an eye roll. She did that often, he realized. Brought up a serious matter, and then shrugged it off as though it were only a fly buzzing around. She only chuckled at his sarcasm.
"And I am so glad you have no chill, Commander," she responded with an equal amount of sarcasm. "I'll see you later then." She waved as she left the war room, not taking a second to hear his reply.
"Right," he said, mostly to himself. "I'm looking forward to it."
Only… she did not show up.
0-0
Cullen felt incredibly frustrated. Today training had gone horribly. He had not understood why. They had been tripping over themselves, dropping shields, and many of them had shut their eyes as they swung their swords. It had been irritating. It should not have been irritating, though. They were completely new to the sword, and they could not have known better. However, that had not stop the Commander from showing his displeasure with the display. In the end, he had sent all of the recruits off earlier than normal.
Since then, he had been pacing in his quarters. It had been a nervous tick he had gained from the events of the Circle Tower. He did so whenever his mind became overrun with… worry? He did worry. For the progress of his troops. He thought back to their clumsiness and sighed. Cullen stopped pacing for a moment, aimlessly staring in front of him. If he were completely honest, his mind continue to think of how his eyes would dart over to the stone steps leading to Haven, expecting to see the Herald. Not once had his eyes connected with hers during the training. He supposed he had gotten used to her presence. It seemed strange that she hadn't…
"Wait…" Cullen muttered, a thought suddenly coming to him. She had showed concern over being in plain sight and watching. Perhaps she had simply tried to observe hidden from his gaze. If that had been the case, had she seen the lackluster performance of the recruits? The Commander sighed once again. He hoped not. But if not, where had she gone? He hadn't seen her all day. Night had fallen some time ago, and… He shouldn't worry. Not about her. She was capable of taking care of herself. There was nothing wrong, and she was probably just sleeping.
So then why were his feet taking him outside of his room? Why were his legs moving quickly out of the Chantry? Why were his hands wringing in front of him as though nervous? Cullen pursed his lips, staring at the entrance of the Herald's cabin. He was being ridiculous, that's why. Knowing that did not stop him from knocking on her door. The warrior carefully looked around, noting that the few people still up did not seem to notice his presence. How awful it would be to have his subordinates catch him without armor. He turned back to the door and happened to catch his reflection in the window. Maker, when was the last time he had shaved? He rubbed at his jaw, frowning. And his hair. It looked as though it hadn't been combed in days. Scowling, he used the window as a mirror to make himself a bit more presentable.
A few moments went by before he realized that there hadn't been a response. Cullen returned his attention back to the door. Silence greeted him. Furrowing his brow, he knocked again. "Herald, it's me," he called. Still, there was no answer. Previously on the nights he visited, she had been up, waiting for him, but not tonight. Why? The Commander knocked once more for good measure, waiting to hear her voice. Still nothing. So he opened the door himself.
Straining his eyes against the darkness of her room, he moved slowly. He did not want a repeat of what happened the first time he had entered. Using the walls as a guide, Cullen made it over to the light fixture on the left. His hand moved across the table underneath the fixture, searching for matches. Once found, he lit it, causing the shadows to be chased away by fire. Blinking a bit to adjust to the sudden light, Cullen shifted his gaze away towards the bed.
There she lay, undisturbed by her guest. Like before, she slumbered, curled with her knees and arms close to her chest. The Commander allowed his shoulders to relax at the sight of her. He had been worried about her welfare all day, and he she was innocently sleeping. Though, he shouldn't have been worried at all. Cullen moved closer, halting at the side of her bed. The Herald wore strange nightwear. Her breasts were bound by large dark straps of cloth that wrapped around her neck. On her legs were skin tight trousers that extended to her ankles. How could she not be cold? She slept over the covers of the bed. But he supposed he couldn't necessarily judge. Everyone had different sleeping habits.
Strange though, he thought. He had only found her sleeping twice, including now, and he couldn't believe how small she looked. So vulnerable and innocent with her dark hair pooled around her head—he wondered if he was the only one who saw this side of her.
The Herald shifted her head a bit, and a soft sigh left her. A strand of hair gently fell against her cheek. Cullen found himself leaning forward, fingers ready to tuck the hair behind her ear. He stopped, fingertips nearly touching her skin. If he wanted, he could also run his finger over the cluster of freckles under her eyes. "What am I doing?" he thought. Frozen, he realized the gravity of the situation. He, the Commander of the Inquisition's forces, stood over her, the Herald of Andraste, whilst she slept unaware of his being there. Cullen bit the inside of his mouth, realizing how inappropriate this must have been. Suddenly he felt his temperature rising. Despite the cold, he could feel sweat forming above his brow.
He had to leave. He had to leave and pretend this never happened. Yes. Before he could do such a thing, however, the Herald suddenly moved again. Her right arm shot out and hooked around his neck. He could hardly gasp before he found himself pulled forward. His body collided with hers. She groaned a bit, wrapping both legs around his abdomen. She even slipped her other arm around his shoulders. He was completely trapped. For a few moments, Cullen laid there, flabbergasted. His right arm had been trapped between their bodies, just under her right breast. His left had fallen across her side. The top of his chin pressed against the top of her chest.
"How…?!" He blinked, then slowly refocused his gaze upward. The Herald's eyes were still shut. In her sleep, she sighed with content through her nose, warming his forehead. "Don't just keep dreaming after that!" But she continued to sleep peacefully, ignorant of the world around her. A frustrated snort came from him. Cullen opened his mouth in order to wake her, but then he snapped it shut. If he succeeded in waking her, how would he explain the situation? He bit the inside of his mouth. The simple answer was that he did not want to explain. He knew himself, and he knew that he would fumble, stutter, and sweat profusely, in the end not explaining properly, leading her to jump to conclusions and label him as some perverse miscreant. Maker, just thinking about it made him sweat.
For now, he had to wait. Cullen realized that the horned woman moved around in her sleep. It would not be long before she shifted enough for him to slip out of her hold. She certainly had a strong hold on him, too… His eyes darted to the arm around his neck. As expected, she was quite muscular for a woman. He didn't doubt she could toss a man clear across a field if she truly wanted. The thought made him smirk. Perhaps he would like to see it one day. It would certainly shut Councilor Roderick up for a few weeks.
Despite her seemingly hard physique, she was softer than he expected. Being pressed against her body like this made him think back to the last time he had been this close to a woman. It had been quite some time ago. Could barely remember the girl's face. But the feeling was the same. Being so close to a soft body at night was… nice. Her piercings were gone. He could see the small holes in her ears, and the hole under her lower lip. Her lips… Hm. Cullen shook the thought away before it could become real. It would do him no good to think her lips were pleasant to look at, especially when she smiled or laughed… or slept… or snarled. The warrior coughed lightly, squeezing his eyes shut for a time. The last time he had been so close to her face, it had been hostile. Now, admittedly, it was mildly comfortable. Despite the situation.
Hm. She smelled nice, too. A dying fire? No… It was more of the beginnings of a fire. With a sweetness to it. Fruit, perhaps? Whatever the scent, he hadn't been this close enough to smell it before. Had never been so close enough to feel her.
Cullen's eyes grew wide, realizing that his palm had been slowly sliding up and down her side, tracing the light scar he had noticed. He hurriedly removed his hand from her skin, muttering an unheard apology. His eyes squeezed shut as he scolded himself—more so his traitorous hand.
This was the Herald of Andraste. How dare he—his blasted hand—touch her so intimately? Cullen pursed his lips, eyes drifting back up to her face. He frowned. As much as she was the Herald… she was also a woman. A woman that had quite literally dragged him into her bed. He turned his gaze elsewhere. Besides, it hadn't been so intimate. It had just been a case of a fellow warrior admiring another's scars. Yes.
She groaned, causing Cullen's gaze to snap back up to her face. She hadn't awoken, thank the Maker, but her expression was tense. Another nightmare? Without really thinking about it, he reached for her face. His palm cupped her cheek. She hadn't said another word about nightmares, but hadn't forgotten the state he found her in before. "Herald… You're okay," he whispered. After a few moments of him rubbing his thumb over the freckles under her right eye, her expression relaxed, and so did her body. She relaxed enough for her arm to move from his neck to his shoulder. Progress.
Cullen smiled as he slowly took his hand from her cheek. She continued to slumber despite his touch. "Is it okay for a rogue to be such a heavy sleeper?" he thought, unaware that his hand had returned to her side. He sighed lightly, watching her. If someone had told him he would be in bed with a Qunari a month ago, he would not have believed it. And yet, he had been in bed with her quite a lot over the past three weeks. Not in that sense, but almost every night, he had come to her. In the beginning, he had visited her because it had benefited himself. After speaking with her for hours, his body had been relaxed enough to fall asleep, most of the time without dreams, without nightmares. Then he realized how much he had actually enjoyed their nightly ritual.
They shared stories about themselves. Little secrets about them. She had finally told him why her favorite color was yellow. On her six birthday, her mother had snuck into a village and stolen presents for her. Among the presents had been a bowl of custard. It had been her favorite. Despite the blatant thievery, it had been a nice gesture. Especially since that was had been the first birthday the Herald could remember having. He told her that he rarely laughed out loud in public because one of his bunkmates had told him he had a stupid laugh. She had merely chuckled and remarked that he did have a pretty dorky laugh when he didn't hold back. Then she had told him she rather liked the sound. Yes, he had grown quite fond of their talks.
Cullen stifled a yawn. He blinked rapidly in an effort to keep his drowsiness at bay. The goal was to wait for a chance to slip out of her hold. He couldn't very well do that if he fell asleep now. Distraction—he needed some type of distraction. However, he had limited options. Honestly, he had no options. Shutting his eyes, he released a heavy sigh. Perhaps… he could try practicing saying her name? She was in front of him, but she couldn't hear him. One day, he might have to say her name out loud in front of many people, and looking like a fool whilst saying it did not bode well. Cullen swallowed hard before he parted his lips. "Ak… Aka…" This was ridiculous. His eyes were closed, and he still couldn't say it without feeling nervous. Just say it. It was only a name. Her name. "Aka… Akásha… Akásha… Akásha." There. And he barely heard his heart beating.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, only to see golden eyes staring back at him. Cullen sucked in a silent, horrified, gasp. The Herald blinked once, and then lifted her right eyebrow. "Yes, Commander?" Her eyelids lowered, giving the appearance of repressed ire. "Did you want to tell me why you've snuck into my room and in my bed?" His body tensed, and as expected he stammered out an answer that sounded similar to a baby gurgling its first words. Her lip lifted, showing her sharp canines, which cause him to abruptly stop his babbling. "Save it," she hissed. She moved so quickly that it took him a moment to realize she had flipped him onto his back. The Herald hovered over him on her hands and knees. Her palms were adjacent to the sides of his head. "I know the answer."
"Y-You do…?" This was the worse. So embarrassing… The Herald had caught him. She knew the reason. Of course she did. She knew her own body better than anyone. If he had simply woke her up, this whole situation could have been avoided. They could have laughed it off and pretended it never happened… until she brought it up in jest. "Good. Great…" Cullen chuckled nervously. "If you know then you must realize what this-"
He stopped, only because she had covered his lips with her own. What… What was this? Everything seemed to become muffled and numb, all but the feeling of her lips. It was only after she pulled back that Cullen came to his senses again. He could feel so much heat spreading through his body, not just his cheeks. His brain could not form a coherent thought. He only lay there, staring up at the horned woman above him. "I did not expect this from you of all people, but I'm impressed that you came up with such a plan," the Herald said softly. "Clever, it was. Coming to my room almost every night so that I can get used to you. Reading reports you've completed to me just so I can hear your voice throughout the day. Meeting my eyes whenever I come to watch the training. And the icing on the cake—finding my men." She bit her lower lip. "You really thought this through."
"Th-That wasn't-" She kissed him again. Gently and in a rhythm that he found hard to resist. She reared back again, but he still felt her breath on his skin. Cullen opened his eyes, not realizing they had shut. "This isn't-" Again she kissed him, longer this time. "It isn't-" Each time he tried to protest, her lips met his. With each kiss, his protests faded. He could have easily told her no. Could have easily pushed her away since his hands were not bound. But he didn't. She pulled back again, only this time he followed after her, honestly wanting another taste.
The Herald obliged, opening her mouth for him. His hands slowly caressed her sides, enticing a muffled moan from her. She nipped at his lower lip before roughly taking control of the kiss. Maker, she was demanding. Cullen didn't care. In fact, he… liked it. She released his lips, only to extend her kisses elsewhere. She slid teeth, tongue, and lips across his jaw, nibbling at his skin. She sucked at his throat, causing a shuddering gasp to leave him. The Herald paused, sighing lightly. "I want to taste all of you," she told him.
"Maker, preserve me." He wanted to do the same. She lifted herself into a sitting position, grinning down at him. He tried following after her, but she reared back and pushed her palm against his chest, keeping him at bay. Each time he tried, she forced him back down. "Herald!" Cullen bit out, a cross between a growl and whine. The grin remained on her face, however. His frustration grew, and before he knew it he had pushed her side towards the right and moved on top of her. By the time he realized, he was already kissing her again. His mouth pressed hard against hers, prying her lips apart to meet her tongue.
A jolt coursed through his body, feeling her whimper underneath him. She felt so nice against him. Taut and smooth. Quivering and hot. Even as a part of his mind told him this was a bad idea—she was the Herald—he could not stop kissing her, touching her, making her release such delicious sounds. "Ahh… Mmmm…" Yes, just like that. "Cullen…" He halted and opened his eyes. Had she just…? He opened his mouth further, removing his teeth from her hip. Swallowing hard, he lifted his gaze to her face. Flushed and panting, she repeated his name. "No, Cullen, that feels good… don't stop…"
He crawled upward. His lips hovered over hers. This burning sensation within him—he hadn't felt in such a long time. He didn't think he would get so much pleasure from hearing his own name again. "I… I won't stop," he told her. He bit at her lips. "As long as you keep calling my name."
"My name…" Cullen slowly opened his eyes. He breathed in deeply through his nose, causing a pleasing smell to drift in. Blinking, he attempted to will the sleep away. "A dream…?" he thought, hugging his pillow closer. "About the Herald…?" The Commander squeezed his eyes shut, feeling heat coil below his abdomen. The images from his dream flashed behind his eyes. A fool. He was a damned fool. Although he couldn't very well control his dreams, such thoughts should not have entered his mind in the first place. Andraste's blood…! She was the Herald! It was inappropriate to… to… want to be that way with her. Cullen bit the inside of his cheek. Her scent still lingered in his nose, although it had been just a dream. A very nice dream. "I wonder what it'd be like to actually-"
Cullen inwardly glowered. Stop it, he ordered himself. He was no longer in adolescence. He knew it was wrong to even be curious. She was the Herald, not just a woman, but a symbol. It would be wildly inappropriate. No matter how much he wanted to go back to dreaming. If only to hold her close enough to feel her warmth again. Hm… His pillow a nice substitute, though. It even… smelled of her. Shapely, too. And… that sound—it was similar to a pulse. Cullen knitted his brow together. His eyes shot up as the realization came upon him.
In the room, it was dark, but light enough to make out the figure lying beside him. Sometime during the night, the candle had gone out. Their positions had shifted so now his chest pressed against her back and she faced the window. He held onto her tightly as though she were a pillow. He had fallen asleep with the Herald. Fallen asleep in her room. With her. Maker, why?! Cullen tensed, adrenaline chasing away the thought of falling back asleep. He lifted his arm, which had been draped over her torso, and then carefully removed his left leg, which had been intertwined with hers. Swallowing, he slowly pulled away from her, and then pushed himself from the bed.
He stood stalk still, wondering if his movements had disturbed her slumber. Luck seemed to be on his side this time for she did not move. Sighing inaudibly, Cullen turned away, pulling down his shirt. He couldn't believe he had fallen asleep. All those nights patrolling as a Templar had not helped him against the allure of sleep. The Commander swiftly headed towards the door. Without looking back, he left her cabin, and nearly ran for the Chantry. It did not care if he others noticed. He just had to get away.
Once he was behind the door his room, Cullen released a shaky breath. He had originally gone to check on her, and had ended up… seeing and feeling more than he intended. He lightly touched his lips. It had been a dream, but he could swear that he still felt on teeth. Maker, he was such a fool. This was obviously a strange situation. Truly, it was. Still, he had managed to escape being the only one to have knowledge of what had happened. That should have been good. Good enough to pretend it never happened, and move on. However… "Again… I want it again."
To feel the warmth of her body. To wrap his arms around her. To inhale her exquisite scent. To hear the gentle throb of her heartbeat. Maker—he wanted all that again. It had not been the first time he had had it, but it had been the first time he felt so greedy for it. But why her? Why did it have to be the Herald? She was… was… Maker, he didn't know. He needed some time. He needed to think about this. Or at the very least sleep it off. Yes. So Cullen dragged himself to his bed, and then unceremoniously fell forward. A huff left him as he attempted to get comfortable. More than likely, what he felt was fleeting, and those thoughts of her would cease.
They did not.
0-0
This is only part one of this. I just thought the chapter was getting super long, so I decided to break it up. The next part will be up soon... I hope. I think these chapters will be the only two in chronological order. Maybe. Watch out for the second half of Crush.
