Note:

Eleri and Cullen partake in sexy fun times. Rating has now gone up to M for smut.


Eleri strode across the courtyard in long, quick steps, pointedly ignoring the wary stares cast her way by the Templars. Standing still and straight, only their eyes followed her as she walked, reminding her of the cold, stern statues she had once encountered when her Clan had travelled through the Emerald Graves many years ago. Eleri had made several visits to the Gallows in her months in Kirkwall, always as a last resort when Cullen was too busy to pull himself away from his office, but her presence there still drew attention. The Templars weren't openly hostile, just – cautious, as if her intrusion somehow unnerved them. Even the Templars who knew her, the ones who had helped carry out repairs in the alienage, watched her closely with knitted brows and lips pulled thin. She couldn't really begrudge them their suspicions; she was, after all, a stranger in a city that had endured more than its fair share of struggle and bloodshed.

Her pace quickened as she reached the stairwell to the north of the courtyard, her excitement growing at the prospect of seeing Cullen once more. It had been too long, too long, since she had last seen him, and Eleri was puzzled to think of what could possibly be detaining him for such an extensive length of time. Cullen had always been busy, a desperate man trying to keep Kirkwall together through sheer force of will, but the past few weeks had been exceptionally hectic and she and Cullen had had precious little time together.

A frustrated growl escaped between pursed lips and she cringed as the sound bounced between the stark walls of the Gallows hallway, echoing down the corridor until it seemed deafeningly loud. While there were no Templars in her immediate vicinity to witness her little angry outburst, she quickened her pace nonetheless, keen to avoid as much attention as far as possible.

When she finally reached Cullen's office she knocked curtly on the door and paused for only the briefest of moments before pushing her way inside without waiting for an answer. As expected, Cullen was too busy working to notice her entrance; shoulders hunched as he sat behind his desk in a large, towering chair that made him appear uncharacteristically small.

"Cullen?" she called tentatively from the doorway, suddenly feeling a flash of guilt at the sight of him bent over a chaotic pile of papers. Perhaps he really did have important work requiring urgent, unwavering attention.

His head jerked up at the sound of his name and any anxiety that she may have felt for having interrupted him melted away at the sight of his smile, that wonderful, tender smile that Eleri was sure he saved just for her. She smiled at him in return, though it was more impish than tender, lips curled wolfishly to reveal a toothy, teasing smirk. Clearly intrigued by her playful expression, Cullen watched her closely as she ambled across his office and along the side of his desk, fingers trailing across the polished mahogany.

"Busy?" she asked when she was close enough to lean over his shoulder at the raft of reports under his ink-smeared fingers.

He gave a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head wearily. "I'm up to my ears with requisition orders, the Starkhaven Templars are requesting my assistance and now, on top of everything else, the Seekers are coming to Kirkwall. Apparently they're looking for information on the Champion and for some reason they're under the misguided impression that I might know where she's gone."

He jabbed at the pile of paper as if to accentuate his frustration and her smile faltered at his words, disappointed to hear that her cunning plan to drag him from the Gallows and into the fresh air was perhaps irretrievably scuppered. "So another late night?"

"I'm afraid so," he answered matter-of-factly and the last vestiges of her smile were chased away to make room for a disappointed frown. At least he had the good manners to look abashed.

"Cullen," she said, clipped and professional, "as your doctor, I must point out that rest and relaxation is essential to maintaining optimal cognitive capacity. Trying to work in your exhausted state will only lead to mistakes and that is of benefit to no one."

She gave him her most forceful glare, the one that usually made even the most recalcitrant of patients cooperate.

"You're right," he conceded with a shrug, though Eleri was disappointed to note that he made no move to clear away his papers or rise from his desk, "but I just have to finish off these reports tonight. I really am sorry."

Having failed to sway him with her authoritative, doctor persona, Eleri decided that a different tactic was required if she was to tear Cullen away from his work. With a dirty smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth, she sidled in front of him and lifted herself to perch her bum on the edge of his desk. "Oh… what a shame," she purred, leaning back and rolling her shoulders to push out her chest, "what a terrible shame."

"Eleri, I know what you're trying to do" he warned as he fixed her with a resolute stare, though there was no genuine anger in his tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said airily, crossing her legs and bringing her toes to tickle against the side of his knee. It was an innocent enough gesture, and only the barest of touches, but it was enough to make Cullen twitch and Eleri's smirk grew wider.

"You're trying to… to distract me," he said, swallowing thickly as her toes stroked against his knee in gentle, small circles.

"Trying to distract you?" she asked as her toes journeyed along the outside of his thigh, tracing lazy, curling lines toward his hips.

He nodded, raising his hand to scratch at the back of his neck in a familiar nervous gesture that Eleri had come to find immensely endearing.

"But not succeeding?"

"Absolutely not."

"You're not even…" She shrugged out of her jacket and let it fall to the tabletop, revealing bare shoulders and an enticingly low neckline. "… A little distracted."

"Maker's breath," he breathed, eyes transfixed by her hands as they stroked down her chest to smooth out the creases from her dress.

Suddenly he grabbed her leg where it teased his thigh and gave it a tug until she was pulled haphazardly from the table and into his lap. She let out a surprised yelp that was quickly silenced when he took her face between his hands and pushed his mouth against hers in a punishing kiss. She smiled against his lips, revelling in the warmth of him, the taste and feel of him. Her hands grabbed the front of his shirt, fists balled into the fabric to hold him close.

When he finally pulled back, hot breath still ghosting over her lips, her smirk grew from teasing to downright smug. "Well," she drawled as she uncurled her fists and let them wander down his chest, sliding across the rough fabric of his shirt, "since you have work to do, I guess I better… leave you to it." She gave a tiny roll of her hips to punctuate her point, relished in the stifled moan that escaped between clenched lips.

"Don't you dare," he growled, hands still cupping her cheeks, and he leant in for another demanding kiss. The first kiss had been forceful but controlled whereas this one was clumsy and hot, open mouths rushing together in a tangle of lips and tongue and teeth. His hands fell from her face, dropping gently to her shoulders then brushing downward, pressing against her flesh through the fabric of her dress until they came to rest on the swell of her hips.

He trailed a path of kisses across her face, lips brushing across her vallaslin as he whispered along the lines that swept across her cheekbone. She shuddered when he pressed a kiss against her temple, a slow, quivering thing that trembled down her spine to her curling toes. A soft, needy moan slipped from her lips and she was surprised at how vulgar is sounded as it reverberated around the sparsely furnished room. She could feel him smile against her skin, clearly pleased to have elicited such a reaction from her.

That smug bastard.

His grip was fierce enough to be almost painful as he pulled her hips flush against his and he bucked involuntarily as she squirmed in his lap. Little frissons of pleasure skittered across her skin as he rocked against her and the pleasantly building pressure at the cleft of her thighs made her whimper eagerly. The sound was muffled by the hungry press of his mouth against hers as he drew her breath away with wet, open-mouthed kisses.

She could feel him even through the layers of fabric between them, hard and willing, and now it was his time to shudder as she pitched her hips forward to press against him. The friction between their flush bodies made her quiver in frantic little spurts and Eleri was suddenly immensely frustrated at the realisation that they were both wearing far too many clothes.

Eleri had always had nimble fingers, fingers that could effortlessly thread a needle or delicately strum a harp, and she made quick work of the buttons at the front of his shirt. Pressed together in a chair designed for only one, it took a great deal of tugging and contorting for Cullen to be freed of his shirt and leather jerkin and Eleri couldn't help but giggle as Cullen huffed impatiently at the offending garments. She pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, a tender, gentle thing meant to soothe, and he smiled at her with such earnest fondness that Eleri felt her heart do that weird little flip-flop that seemed to be occurring with increasing frequency since meeting Cullen.

Finally freed of his shirt, Eleri let her hands drift down his bare chest, fingers dancing across the flat planes of strong, lean muscle. She started off gently, palms skimming lightly, almost shyly, over his skin, but soon she touched him with firm, rough strokes, fingertips pressing firmly into flesh as she scattered feathery kisses along his collarbone to the hollow of his throat.

One of his hands swept down her torso, disappearing under the fabric of her dress that pooled around her waist. She sucked in a sharp breath as his fingertips stroked down her inner thigh then moaned loud and unguarded as thick, calloused fingers pushed aside the fabric of her smallclothes and between her wet, yielding folds, rough skin pulling deliciously against soft flesh. She writhed in his lap, grinding into his hand to deepen the sensations. When he curled his finger inside of her, the moans turned into embarrassingly needy mewls and she buried her head in the side of his neck to muffle the noise.

Her whole body tingled as a blossoming heat began to spread from between her thighs. She knew she wouldn't last long with Cullen's thick, strong fingers strumming inside of her and although it was supremely tempting to let Cullen coax her over the edge with only his hand, she still desperately wanted to feel him inside of her, feel his hips pounding against her own and his body shivering with pleasure.

He frowned with confusion when she stilled his hand but she pushed the worry away with a gentle kiss between his brows before turning her attention to divulging Cullen of his remaining articles of clothing. Her fingers were less nimble as they tugged insistently at the laces of his trousers and she was relieved when Cullen came to her aid, pulling with short, sharp tugs until the laces came undone. He wriggled in his seat to help her as she pulled his trousers and smallclothes down over his hips to bunch at his knees, then took her hands in an endearingly chivalrous gesture to guide her back into his lap.

She shimmied forward until their torsos were flush then rolled her hips until he was sheathed inside of her. Her gasp was drowned out by the sound of his pleasured groan and for a fleeting moment they simply sat there, still and enjoined, with their laboured breaths mingling between them. Then he gave a pump of his hips and a strangled moan was pulled from her throat as they started to move, slow and steady, hips pounding and dipping in unison.

He buried his hands in the mass of blonde at the back of her head and pulled her in for another searing kiss. Their moans were stifled by urgent lips and roving tongues, and instead the room was filled with the sound of snapping hips and the smack of skin against skin. A wild, thrumming heat coiled through her limbs, growing in intensity until every nerve ending throbbed with crackling fire.

She gripped fiercely to his shoulders when she came, his body a sturdy anchor keeping her in place as her body spasmed and shook. Cullen was soon to follow and his satisfied moans rattled the air as he trembled beneath her. He wrapped his arms around her as her body juddered with the last dwindling tremors, peppering the crown of her head with tiny, breathy kisses. Resting her forehead against his shoulder, she took in a deep, steadying breath and let his scent, the smell of sweat, leather and lemon oil, wash over her. It was a pleasant smell, sharp and alive, and she found it oddly comforting.

Despite her Clan's constant wondering, Eleri had always known what home was. Home was the smell of halla, the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves of a forest older than language, the warmth of the campfire as it brushed coppery waves across her skin. But now, enclosed in Cullen's arms, she wasn't so sure. Perhaps home was rainy winters and stone walls, watered-down beer and bustling crowds. Perhaps home was rich laughter, and shy smiles, and eyes that always seemed to be seeing her for the first time.