NSFW. Sorry this one is a little on the short side, but after the delay (thanks, depression), I just wanted to put something up for you all. I hope you like it!
Golden afternoon sunlight warmed her skin as Elena lay in Cullen's arms, happy and sated. She ran her fingers up and down his chest, tracing old scars and tangling in his golden chest hair. The afternoon sun was low in the sky, threatening to set soon. Next to her sat the remnants of the meal they'd shared, all but forgotten when passion had overwhelmed them and they'd tumbled to the ground in a slow, sensual embrace once more.
"Cullen," she started, breaking the white noise of the forest around them.
"Hmm?"
"Are we married now?"
Cullen shifted slightly, looking down at where her head was pillowed on his chest. "Do you want to be wed, lass?"
Though she could hear the amusement in his gentle tone, Elena blushed, feeling not a little bit like those marriage-maddened ladies at the Imperial Court. "It's just that I don't always understand how things work here…I mean, you've claimed me now and we live together…"
He was silent for a moment, and ran his knuckles along the line of jaw. "No, mitt hjarta, we're not married. There would need to be a ceremony before the Hold, first. But you're my woman, claimed and kept. Any children we may have will be legitimate, and as I said before, I'll not take another woman while I have you."
They fell silent and Elena mulled over his words. She still didn't quite understand what the difference was, but she wouldn't push it–she'd see more than one relationship crumble because one wouldn't drop the topic of marriage when the other clearly didn't wish to speak on it. As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Cullen suddenly rolled them, bringing her onto her back, him covering her. He framed his hands on either side of her head.
"Look at me, lass," he coaxed. "That's it. Understand, our marriage ceremony involves an exchange of vows, yes, but I've given you those vows. If you want to say the woman's part to me, I'll teach it to you–nothing would make me happier. But I can see what you're thinking, and don't. Part of the marriage rite is a contest. The woman sings a song while the man unties knots from a length of rope. The number of knots he undoes by the time she finishes her song signifies the number of years their joining will last." He paused, and brushed his lips over hers, so softly she didn't have a chance to return the gesture. "I don't want us to be temporary. You're my woman until I go back to the sky, and even then, I'll find a way to crawl back to you."
She felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes as his declaration, and the emotion behind it, washed over her.
"I love you," she whispered, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss as her legs wrapped around his waist.
Cullen slid into her, the hot brand of his cock parting her slick heat as he seated himself inside of her. He stroked her face, traced the lines of her features as they gently rocked together, deep, and slow, Elena strained to keep her eyes open and locked on his, biting her lips to keep from moaning too ardently least her eyes slip closed. She buried her fingers in his silken curls, her back arching as the broad crown of his cock rubbed just the right spot deep in her core. Their passion burned hot and fast, and soon she felt the tell-tale signs of her body tightening for release–her back taut as a bow, her nipples pebbled and aching, her sex tight, drawing him deep within her.
He groaned, the smooth, slow rhythm of his hips stuttering as he struggled to withhold his release until she had found hers. A shift of her hips, the rasp of his beard against her throat, and suddenly the world melted away in an explosion of white. Distantly, she heard his heady roar and the felt the scalding heat of his seed. Elena moaned, clutching her warrior to her as her body spasmed beneath him.
Fingers splayed across her jaw, he kissed her, his tongue gliding over her own as he swallowed the last whimpers of her orgasm.
"Tell me the words," she whispered against his mouth. "I want to say them to you."
Cullen pulled back just a bit, so that he could look her full in the eye. "Are you sure, lass? You'll be binding yourself to me for life."
"Yes. Cullen, please."
He watched her a beat, as if trying to ascertain the truth behind her words. After a moment, he nodded. "Make them your own, but repeat after me. I solemnly pledge by all my gods and yours,"
"I solemnly pledge by my Maker, the Holy Andraste, and your gods,"
"That I will honor you, cherish you, and adore you."
"That I will honor you, Cullen, cherish you, and adore you."
"In this life, and all those to come, until the ending of time."
"In this life, and all those to come, until the ending of time."
"I will give you sons, and shelter you in my arms, and stand besides you against all others."
"I will give you many children, and shelter you in my arms, and stand besides you against all others."
"You have my pledge and my vow."
"You have my pledge and my vow."
Cullen smiled as the last words left her lip, and pressed a sweet kiss to her mouth. "We should head back soon. I'm sure the others are wondering where we are."
Elena nodded and helped him pack up their provisions, though she was loathe to leave their meadow–their secret place. He helped her lace up her gown, and somehow the act of dressing was just as intimate as the act of undressing. His fingers lingered over the exposed skin of her back as he worked his way upward, and every so often she felt the feather soft brush of his lips against her neck.
They made their way slowly through the woods, Cullen's arm securely around her waist as he led their horse behind them. As the sun began to set, the air chilled, remind Elena that they were in the last few golden days of autumn, and soon winter would be upon them. She shivered involuntarily as she thought about the harshness of Frostback winters–Elena had only seen snow once or twice. It was rare in Halamshiral and Val Royeaux, completely unheard of in Ostwick.
As the broke through the treeline at the back of the village, Cullen went rigid next to her. A moment later, she saw what had affected him so–a plume of black smoke billowed up into the sky, throwing ash into the air. Cullen raced through the Hold, dragging Elena behind him by the hand, their horse following dutifully at a fast clip. As they skidded into the central square, Elena's stomach dropped. Cullen's home was a smoldering ruin, devoured completely by flames that, by the looks, of things, had only just been put out.
"Cullen!"
He and Elena both turned at the sound of Rosalie's voice, as the woman in question came flying over to them, and threw herself in her brother's arms. A moment later, Mia and Branson appeared, and Elena felt relief flood through her when she realized none of them had been caught in the blaze.
"What in the name of the Mountain Father happened?" Cullen demanded, glaring over Rose's shoulder at his other siblings.
He let Rose go, and they exchanged glances, wary it seemed, to be the bearer of bad news. Elena's stomach sunk; it could only mean one thing. Skinchanger had something to do with the blaze–she would bet her life on it.
"Everyone was called to the Thane's Hall for an announcement–we tried to look for you, but we had to go," Brason finally began. "Once we were inside, Skinchanger took his sweet time appearing, but a moment before he could speak, the watchman ran in, yelling about the fire."
Elena took in the dark look on Branson's face and the equally dark look that passed over Cullen's as he listened to his brother–it didn't take much to figure out that the fire was no accident. But before either man could do anything about it, the crowd around them parted, revealing the Thane himself.
"You!" He roared when he alighted on Cullen. "You have menaced this village for the last time! Your carelessness and that of your family could have burnt this entire hold to the ground!"
"We both know this fire was no accident," Cullen spat back.
Skinchanger's face turned a mottled, livid purple at the younger man's retort. "How dare you! You ungrateful whelp! Get out! Take you family and get out of this hold. If I see you on hold lands again, I'll have you killed and your body thrown in a ditch." He paused, raising his head to the crowd. "And anyone who tries to help him will receive the same fate."
At his words, the crowd of villagers gasped, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Their Thane's pronouncement didn't sit easily with everything, but Skinchanger was too furious–or perhaps too pleased with himself–to notice. It was clear he was taking the fire as an opportunity to do with Cullen what he had longed to do. The Thane turned to leave, dismissing Cullen and his family like one would dismiss a gnat, but abruptly he turned back, a look of glee on his greasy face.
"And I'll be taking payment for the damage you've caused to the Hold. That helmet of yours should do nicely."
The color drained from Cullen's face as he stiffened next to her. Elena found herself breaking away from his side. He couldn't give up that helmet–he just couldn't! It was all he had left of his father, and of his birthright. She threw herself at Skinchanger's feet, heart pounding as she clasped her hands together in front of him.
"Please, my lord. I have many fine jewels–take those instead of Cullen's helmet!"
Skinchanger sneered, "as pretty as you are on you knees, girl. I think not. What good are woman's baubles to me?" With that, he turned away.
Elena felt numb–the place she'd called home for the last month was gone, her new family cast out and scattered to the wind. Was it her fault? Surely Skinchanger had always been jealous and fearful of Cullen and his popularity, prowess in battle, and the easy way he led his men, but she couldn't help but feel as if her continued presence at Cullen's side exacerbated the underlying issues. Hadn't Cullen said now that he had a woman (a foreign one with wealth to boot) he could now claim his birthright.
Perhaps that was why Mia was Branson were looking at her with such contempt.
She felt strong hands grip her shoulders as Cullen lifted her to stand. "Come lass, we have much to do before dark."