Mildy NSFW. You have been warned!
Sleep.
I am in dire need of sleep.
I emerge from one of the carriages that has transported my troops and I back to Skyhold from Emprise du Lion. My head literally throbbing, I instruct the soldiers to take the rest of the day off to recuperate from the long journey.
Fighting back a fresh wave of nausea (I have suffered from a number of those these past few days; being cooped up in an airless carriage for several days can do that to a person), I ignore my rumbling stomach and try my best to avoid dragging my feet as I make my way to my quarters, overly eager for a bath and a good night's rest.
On my way up the staircase leading to the battlements, I spot a patrolling scout and walk up to her.
"Is the Inquisitor back from the Western Approach yet, Juliet?" I ask the freckled young woman.
And before you start wandering, yes, I do in fact know all of my troops' first and last names by heart.
Doting parent, remember?
"No, Sir," she replies.
I feel my low spirits dampen even further.
"Thank you, Juliet," I nod and continue on to my office, feeling equal parts crestfallen and exhausted.
Ignoring the fresh stack of reports awaiting me on my desk, I climb up the ladder to my quarters and quickly prepare a bath, not bothering to heat the water past lukewarm temperature. Before I strip my armour off and dip into the bath, I feel a sense of guilt creep up on me as I think back to the reports piling up on my desk. I quickly slide down my ladder and take the topmost report from the pile, intending on reading it while soaking in my bath.
I climb back up to my quarters, the report safely clamped between my pursed lips. I strip and pull a stool next to the bath to set the report on, placing a lit candle beside it to illuminate the darkening room. I get in carefully so as to avoid any splashes and instantly regret not taking the time to properly heat the water.
I sink into the wooden tub and close my eyes, resting my head against the edge and taking a moment to enjoy the absolute quiet and solitude.
Naturally, my mind drifts to the young lady who tends to enjoy occupying my every waking thought.
I sigh as I picture her smile, radiant and perfect.
I miss her.
She left for the Western Approach two weeks before I left on an expedition to Emprise du Lion with my troops, and that was three weeks ago.
Five weeks.
Maker.
What I would not give to see her face at this very moment.
To have her here with me...right here in this bath.
I swallow nervously as an image surfaces before my mind's eye.
Nude and wet, she joins me in the bath, her eyes fixed on mine as she slowly slides down over me, straddling me as she did when I carried her to her bedroom, her hair falling over my shoulders as she wraps her arms around my neck and brings her lips down to mine...
Maker's breath.
I open my eyes, my breath hitching in excitement. I realise in surprise that both my hands are tightly gripping the edge of the tub, turning my knuckles white.
I look down between my legs, tempted beyond measure for the release that my body so desperately craves. Hesitantly, I slide my hand down, closing my eyes as I allow my mind to drift back to her, permitting the fantasy to play out as I slowly start to pleasure myself.
In my mind, it's her hand wrapped around me, much smaller and softer than my own. I try my best to keep quiet, remembering in some distant corner of my mind that I have an open door policy in my office and that anyone could barge in at any moment.
But it has been so long since I have permitted myself such an indulgence, and I cannot help but moan audibly as I imagine her soft lips against mine, her tongue softly caressing my own as her hand continues to pleasure me, moving faster and more urgently now.
I moan, whispering her name over and over again, my heart drumming rapidly against my chest. Despite the cool weather, I start to sweat, my skin turning hot and flushed.
I bite down on my lip, my entire body twitching, using every ounce of willpower within me to prevent myself from yelling out as I go over the edge.
Panting, I feel my body slowly relax into the tub, recovering from the pleasure it had just experienced, almost foreign in its intensity.
Sweet Maker, that was incredible.
Seeing as the bath water is not exactly the most hygienic to soak in any longer, I get out and wipe myself dry, my body still shaking from the experience.
I look out my window to ensure that I won't be splashing semen water over some poor soul's head and proceed to empty out the tub's contents when I see that all is clear.
I step over my discarded clothes and take the report with me to bed. I collapse onto the bed face-down, suddenly feeling as though I hadn't slept in weeks.
The unread report still in my hand, I feel my eyelids droop as I willingly drift into unconsciousness.
"Cullen."
Her voice drifts into my ear ever so quietly, as though it were a whisper being carried to me from a great distance.
"Hmmm," I smile happily, feeling as light as a feather.
"Cullen," I hear her say again, closer this time.
I sigh as I feel her kissing me softly on my cheek, so softly that it almost seems unreal.
I am dreaming.
I am dreaming a beautiful dream and I do not wish to wake up.
So I keep my eyes closed, refusing to shake the dream away.
I feel her slender fingers gently running through my hair, sending a shiver down my spine.
Odd.
Her touch feels so real.
I do not recall ever experiencing a dream as vivid as this one.
Not even the nightmares.
I feel her kiss me again, on my lips this time, and I lazily kiss her back, struck again by how real and warm her lips feel against mine.
"Evelyn," I mumble, garnering nothing in response.
My eyelids heavy, my eyes flutter open, blinking rapidly against the sunlight. I breathe in deeply, and I can almost swear that her scent is lingering in the air.
I am still lying face-down, my naked body partially draped in my blanket. Gingerly, I sit up, rubbing my eyes as they adjust to the light.
The exceptionally bright light.
The sort of light that signifies it is well past dawn.
I scramble to get out of bed, nearly falling off when I tangle myself in my blanket in haste. I hear a loud, crunching sound beneath me and I immediately reach down, pulling out the now severely crumpled report I had neglected to read last night.
I quickly untangle myself and hop out of bed, pulling on my clothing and armour and attempting to tame my hair simultaneously.
Once I am presentable, I climb down the ladder to my office, report once again clamped between my lips.
Maker's breath, it's already ten in the morning!
I rush to my desk and scan my daily planner, breathing a huge sigh of relief when I see that recruit training is not scheduled until later this afternoon.
This can never happen again, I scold myself angrily as I smooth out the crumpled report over my desk.
At least the throbbing headache is gone.
As I smooth out the report, I realise that it is a request from Ser Rylen to meet him in Haven to sort out the recovered equipment left behind in the battle with Corypheus.
No rest for the wicked, I think grimly.
My stomach rumbles loudly, reminding me that I hadn't had anything to eat these past twenty four hours.
Placing a heavy tome over the report to permanently smooth it out, I make my way to the door to have some breakfast.
I pull open the door and quite spectacularly walk into someone, nearly sending the tray in their hands flying off the battlements.
"Inquisitor!" I gasp in horror when I realise who it is. "I-I mean, Evelyn. Forgive me, I was not paying attention to where I was going-"
"It's all right, Cullen," she chuckles at my panicked stammering.
I feel my face turn red, and I look down to see the tray in her hands laden with food.
"I thought I'd get you some breakfast in bed," she explains with a smile. "Seeing as you seemed very reluctant to leave it."
I look at her, blinking in confusion.
"But I thought- you mean you were- that wasn't-"
"A dream?" she smiles, walking past me into my office. "No. No, it certainly wasn't."
I follow her, slowly shutting the door behind me, feeling completely dazed.
Maker, am I still dreaming?
"I came up to see if you were all right," she says, setting the tray down on my desk, being careful to place it as far away from the reports as possible. "It's not like you to stay in bed this late into the morning. I thought maybe you weren't feeling well."
I smile warmly as I watch her pour some tea into two porcelain teacups. I walk up to her and wrap my arms around her from behind, burying my face in her hair.
"Maker, I've missed you," I whisper.
She turns around in my arms and faces me, bringing her soft palms up to my face. She closes her eyes and kisses me, as softly and as gently as she did when I was still asleep.
"I've missed you too," she murmurs, resting her head against my chest. My stomach rumbles loudly in the quiet of my office, and she grins up at me, endearment clear in her striking eyes.
"Time for some breakfast, I think," she says, turning her attention back to the food tray. She places slices of ham,cheese and an Orlesian pastry called a croissant on a plate and places it before my chair on the desk, setting the tea beside it.
Still smiling, I kiss the side of her neck from behind and stride to my chair, my mouth salivating at the sight of the food awaiting me.
"Thank you, my darling," I tell her softly, taking my first bite as I watch her prepare the same meal for herself.
She smiles shyly, my heart skipping a beat when I see red painting her cheeks. She sits on the edge of the table and takes a sip of tea, shielding her eyes from the sunlight glaring through the window behind me.
"Well, this isn't going to work," she says, swiftly picking up her plate and tea and making her way to my side of the desk. She starts to sit on the desk again, but I take her hand and gently pull her towards me, silently urging her to sit on my lap. She blushes again as she shyly complies with my request.
"When did you get back?" I ask her, twirling a lock of her hair around my finger.
"Late last night," she replies. "You?"
"Around sundown."
She studies my face silently, brushing what must be crumbs of croissant from around my lips.
"You look tired," she remarks, her brow slightly furrowed in concern.
"It was a long journey," I reply.
She reaches for her plate on the table and tears off a piece of her croissant.
"How is your head? Are the headaches any better?" she asks before popping the morsel into her mouth.
"Same as ever," I reply, slightly distracted as I watch her lips, slightly wet from the tea. She reaches over to pick up her teacup, my heart speeding as I focus on her slender hand, watching her raise the cup up to her lips.
The very hands I shamelessly fantasized about last evening...
I repress a shudder, tearing my thoughts away from the memory, still fresh and vivid in my mind.
"Your breakfast isn't going to eat itself, Cullen," she jokes.
"Oh," I lean forward to grab my plate, but she beats me to the chase, taking it in her hands before nestling back against me.
"Allow me," she murmurs, taking what is left of the croissant and bringing it to my lips. I open my mouth, eyes fixed on hers, suddenly feeling much warmer. She deliberately caresses my lower lip with her thumb as she pulls her hand away, my body tensing in reaction.
I chew the last morsel slowly, ignoring the fresh stream of butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. She sets down my empty plate and finishes her own breakfast, her attention now focused on the stack of reports on my desk.
I admire the golden honey hue the bright morning sun casts on her hair. I lift my hand up and gently flip it to one side, revealing the smooth skin of her neck, pale in comparison to her face, no doubt covered by her armour during her recent sojourn into the desert.
I lean forward and kiss it, lightly and softly, my lips barely touching her skin. She shudders and places her teacup on the desk. She turns her face towards me, bringing her lips down to mine and kissing me with an urgency that takes me by surprise. She runs her fingers through my hair and grabs it, pulling me closer to her, sending my head spinning when I hear and feel her sigh into my mouth.
I slide my mouth away from hers and lick her lower lip before moving down to her jaw and neck, where I linger because I know she is sensitive there. She stretches her neck, throwing her head back and groaning as I continue to kiss her, teasing her skin with my tongue, tasting her with it.
My hands slide from her back to her breasts, squeezing and caressing them ever so gently, finding her nipples with my thumbs.
She squirms under my touch as she whispers my name, filling me with the confidence that I lacked so often when in her presence.
She tilts my face up and kisses me chaotically, her hands moving down to-
We both jump when we hear the door open, our breath stopping in its tracks.
Leliana.
Of all the-
In a sudden and baffling move, Evelyn jumps up and ducks down by my feet, bringing a finger up to her (now swollen) lips as she tries to suppress a laugh.
"Leliana," I breath, noticing that she has her eyes fixed on a report in her hand and taking the opportunity to flatten my hair.
"Commander, this just arrived from Redcliffe," she says, still not looking up as she makes her way to my desk. "I thought you'd want to see it. It's from the Arl."
She finally looks up and pauses when she sees the tray and empty plates on my desk.
"I haven't interrupted anything, have I?" she asks.
No hint of a teasing smile? No knowing smirk or smart remark?
Maker, that's a relief.
"No, not at all," I reply innocently, piling the plates and teacups and setting them on the tray.
She nods, internally groaning when I realise her eyes lingering on my lips.
Which must also be swollen.
Bloody bards.
Evelyn lets out a little snicker, and I quickly cough to cover the sound.
"What was that?" Leliana asks.
"Nothing," I reply, still clearing my throat. "Just a dry throat, that's all."
She flashes me a look that clearly indicates she doesn't buy it, but she lets it go all the same.
"Art Teagan is asking for reparations for the damage caused by the rebel mages," she explains. "Have a read and tell me what you think."
She places the report before me and leaves, silently shutting the door behind her.
"Is she gone?" Evelyn mouths up at me.
"Yes. Although, being Leliana, I'd wager she knew exactly what was going on."
"That's true," she replies. "No matter. It's not as though our relationship is a secret. Good call with the fake cough, by the way. Might want to sound a bit more convincing next time, though," she adds with a grin.
I laugh and shake my head.
"I'll see what I can do," I smile, standing up beside her.
She looks around, swinging her arms at her side.
"Well, I'd best be off," she says. "Long day ahead."
"Long day indeed," I nod, my eyes flitting over to my daily planner.
"I'll take these back to the kitchen," she says, moving to take the tray on the desk.
"No," I say, placing my hand on her shoulder. "Allow me to take care of that."
"No, I should-"
"Please, Evelyn," I smile. "I insist."
She stands up straight and smiles back, the sun illuminating her eyes under its glare.
"All right," she says. "I suppose I'll see you later, then?"
"Of course," I reply.
She turns on her heels and starts to walk to the door, but I take her hand and stop her. She turns around to face me, my lips covering hers as soon as she turns. I kiss her softly, in stark contrast to the passionate kiss we shared a few minutes earlier.
"Until later, my darling" I murmur, gazing down at her beautiful face.
"Until later," she smiles, sliding her thumb against my cheekbone before I loosen my hold on her and let her go.
I watch her leave, not looking away even after the door shuts behind her.
Upon snapping back into my senses, I shake my head and grin to myself as I clean the morsels off my desk.
Maker.
I am a lucky, lucky man.
