Chapter 12: Answer

Five eternities passed as Cullen waited for an answer. He counted the stars, but lost his place as their light flickered bright then dim by turns. He counted the leaves of the trees overhead, but the way they trembled in the breeze made his sweaty hands want to tremble which he was mightily trying not to let happen. And then finally…

"Yes."

Time stopped. Or at least, he wished it would. He considered asking her if she might cast a spell to do just that so he could live in this moment, on that single word, forever. But then he'd never get to do either of the things she just agreed to so…

"But I have conditions."

Conditions?

"Co...conditions…?" Admittedly, he hadn't planned what would come after she answered him. He supposed he imagined a paucity of words and a plethora of actions to follow her assent to his requests. He definitely hadn't envisioned negotiations. Not that he was about to argue. As long as her answer stayed 'yes', she could have whatever condition she damn well pleased. He'd make love to her suspended from the top of Fort Drakon if it struck her fancy.

Evelyn sat up, so he did as well. They faced each other and he listened intently as she began to itemize her 'conditions'.

"I want a wedding."

It didn't bode well for him that he was already confused.

"Evelyn, I believe that's the point of a marriage proposal."

She huffed. "No, Cullen. I want a wedding. Yes, I want to marry you," He saw her lips purse as she fought back a smile at that statement. She wanted to marry him. And saying it made her smile. He almost didn't let her finish, so badly did he want to take her in his arms, but he fought the urge so she could continue. "but I specifically want to marry you in a real wedding. In a Chantry. With flowers. And a party. With cake."

Cullen rubbed at back of his neck. "I'll happily acquire all the cake in Orlais if you want it, love, but can I ask why you want a big wedding? I never thought you liked parties."

"You're right. I don't. But I never thought I'd have a wedding. Now that it's a possibility, I find I want a real one. I don't want a 'this is as good as you're going to get' rushed elopement in the dark of night like we're guilty and hiding something." A fleeting uncertainty clouded her bright eyes. "Is that...strange?"

Cullen leaned in closer, suddenly needing to feel her. The liberty of touch was still novel, surreal to him, to those old sensibilities that whispered he didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her. He ran his hands along her thighs and she allowed it, as she always did now without question, but he caught her with the look she sometimes wore when he touched her or held her or kissed her. It was a look that spoke to those same things he felt, that a large part of her also was taken aback by someone cherishing her, loving her.

A blinding and urgent need burned bright inside him. There was always a low smolder of need present when she was near and even sometimes when she wasn't but, more and more now, there were times that the need flared and grew. He burned. Burned for her, to have her, to show her, to show himself that this was right. Their pasts, their pain, the horror and the sadness were all for a reason. So they could come together. So they could love. Truly love. Without reservation, with eyes and hearts wide open and unafraid, content in the knowledge that they deserved this.

He took a deep breath. He wasn't good with words on the best of days, let alone when his mind was fogged by the delirium of emotion she stirred in him. He had to try though, to make her understand and possibly to puts things in better focus for himself as well.

"Firstly, this is not a 'possibility', Evelyn, it is a certainty. Secondly, I don't find it strange at all. I think when you've always felt like you don't deserve something, it can be hard to accept it once you have it. Making a 'normal' go of it can be a way to prove to yourself you do deserve it. And even when you don't give a nug's arse what anyone else thinks, sometimes it's nice to have those typical things that others take for granted, even after spending your whole life convincing yourself you didn't need it."

A slow and relieved smile spread across her face that he was sure she would have tried to hide better if they weren't sitting outside in the dark. She shivered in the chill air that had been getting a bit colder each night as they traveled. He stood and arranged their bedrolls so they could climb in.

When they were settled into a warm embrace again, she was still silent, so he prodded a little. "What else?"

"I don't really want a lot of people, I just want it to feel properly official."

"We can always have Cassandra perform the ceremony for us." Said in jest, he hadn't expected Evelyn to call him on the suggestion of having the Divine marry them no matter how close they'd all once been.

"Exactly. You can write to her."

She was serious. And suddenly Cullen was terrified at just how 'proper' Evelyn was considering making this.

"Evelyn…" He said her name slowly, not really wanting to tread down this road, but this might mean the difference between turning around and racing towards Val Royeaux to demand that Divine Victoria marry them immediately versus taking their time to leisurely plan a wedding with ten kinds of cake. "Evelyn, do you...wish to, um, 'wait'...until we're married…?"

Dear fucking Maker, please say no.

Guilt quickly crept up on him after the selfish, but honest, thought. He wanted to give her whatever it was she wanted, however she wanted it. It was important to him that she move on from feeling used by the world. He wanted it to be her turn to dictate how these next important steps in her life would play out. Maker knew, he had everything he wanted in his arms already. Now if only she would just say she didn't want to wait…

xxxx

Evelyn didn't want to wait.

It had taken her a moment, fine, many moments, to decide she wanted a wedding with all of the pretty fancies she'd long thought herself too disillusioned to entertain. She knew she was going to say yes as soon as the questions left Cullen's lips but it took her some time to understand why and how she wanted to make it work. So she didn't answer right away.

She wanted him. Maker, but she wanted him and it hadn't quite hit her how badly until he laid his heart bare once again before her and offered himself to her. He wanted her too. Enough to ask and enough to sound confident in the asking, certain that he wanted her. Her. Just her. She had nothing else to give him. But apparently she was enough.

Feeling his heartbeat under her hand, now pounding against her palm, hanging on her next unspoken words, she knew they'd both had enough of waiting. She may want a Chantry wedding like the little girl Evelyn Trevelyan dreamed of when she danced about in the green fields of Ostwick, but the woman Evelyn Trevelyan, who'd paid many a heavy price to finally just get here, get to the place where she could dream and want and love again, this Evelyn, for tonight, needed only Cullen.

They didn't have a bed beneath them but they had stars above them. Her hair was mussed by the wind and he hadn't shaved in days. Their campfire had burned down to a low orange glow and she could barely see his face in the Ferelden midnight but she could feel him.

She never did answer with words. She answered with her single hand, as she squirmed inside their bedroll and tugged at their clothes. First her tunic, up and over her head. His head tilted to take in the sight, his mouth open, his eyes intense. Then her leggings, kicked off and away. Her bare legs slid against him as his legs tangled with hers and she felt the need she aroused in him. It made her feel powerful. Not weak. Not broken. Important. Loved.

She pulled off his shirt next, knowing every scar he wore beneath it. She'd touched them, traced them, now she kissed them, tasted them. Salt and sunshine even in the dark. And like a predator of the night, she fed off his growls and rumbles and sighs as she devoured him. Each of his muscles flexed for her, he held her, gripped her, and drove her as mad as she was driving him with the heat of his fingers all along her naked skin.

And then their naked skin was all that was between them. He rolled them and she was pinned beneath him. Delicious entrapment by the bulk of him, all hers, around and above her and finally, finally inside her.

He roared and her heart roared with him, feeling more alive than she'd ever felt. This was life. Not the outside world or the people in it. They moved in their own world now, creating it from each shared sensation until every sensation suddenly climaxed into a bliss that shocked them both. Shuddering and gasping, sweating and panting the lines between them blurred and for one perfect moment they were no longer two lost souls but a single one, found and at home.

Regretfully, reluctantly, but floating on a feeling of primal satisfaction, they came back down to Thedas clinging to one another. Still, they didn't speak, neither wanting to venture all the way back to reality yet.

But this is reality now.

Evelyn shot straight up like a bolt from a crossbow. The cool night air hit her skin as something suddenly occurred to her. She sat, now straddled atop a half-dozing Cullen, and it brought her fully back to her senses.

"Evelyn?" He croaked out sleepily. "Are you alright, love?"

She thought about the question. So many questions tonight. She was alright. But she wasn't. It didn't matter though, that she wasn't. He wasn't. She wasn't. They might never just be alright but it didn't matter because they had this now, each other, to fill the empty spaces and sew the wounds of the hard times shut. She could be both, alright and not alright, and still move forward. With him. Together.

She leaned back down over him, nuzzling at his beard, indulging in his old familiar scent mingled with the new scent of their lovemaking. When he started to stir again at her ministrations she finally answered him.

"I'm not sure. Maybe. Let's do that again and see."


A/N: Fine. I lied. There's a little smut, okay?! Thanks for reading! ;)