NSFW to begin with. Those two can't seem to keep their hands off each other now that they've finally consummated their relationship. oh god. did i really just say 'consummated?' i'm beginning to sound like i'm from the medieval era myself!
Are you aware of that strange in-between place where you are still partially asleep, but also awake at the same time?
When a beautiful memory plays in your head and brings a warmth to your heart and a smile to your lips, but you are terrified of waking up and learning that it was nothing but a dream? A cruel trick played by a desperate mind?
That is precisely my current state.
I am absolutely terrified of opening my eyes and finding myself alone in my bed.
I am terrified of going downstairs and finding everything as it was on my desk; no scattered papers and broken glass strewn across the floor.
No articles of female clothing leaving a trail from my desk and up to my quarters.
No Evelyn Trevelyan sleeping right beside me.
Even with my eyes closed, I can tell that it is barely dawn. The painful glare of the morning sun is not yet uncomfortable against my eyelids.
I feel a very light, intermittent breeze blow against my face.
Except, it is far too warm and brief to be a breeze.
I open my eyes, a wide grin spreading across my face when I see Evelyn's face a few inches away from mine, her expression blissfully peaceful as she continues her deep slumber.
I am torn between carefully taking her in my arms, risking waking her up in the process, or just lying still beside her until she awakens. I decide on the latter, valuing her rest over my selfish and seemingly relentless need for physical contact, but I do carefully and very gently brush the hair away from her eyes.
I see my lucky charm nestled between her breasts, and the sight seems beautifully bizarre to me.
The lucky charm given to me by my brother before I left for Templar training when I was thirteen... the charm that I clasped in my palm before taking my Templar vows when I was eighteen. The charm that I held in both hands as I prayed and resisted possession with all my might when Uldred took over the Ferelden Circle...
That very charm is now hanging around the neck of a woman many consider to be our saviour, holy or otherwise.
A woman who has bewitched me, mind, body and soul.
And a mage, of all the possibilities.
I have come a long way since my broken days.
My love for her is more than enough proof of that.
There was a time when I am not certain I would have cared for her. That was the depth of my anger and bitterness towards magic and all things related.
The very thought of that sickens me.
I was not plagued by nightmares last night.
Although I suspect that has more to do with the fact that I barely got any sleep last night.
I trust you can imagine why.
Evelyn stirs in her sleep, unintentionally bringing her arm to rest against my waist.
Unable to resist any longer, I slowly move my head closer and kiss her very lightly on her partially open lips. Her eyes flutter at the touch, and a smile creeps across her lips when she sees me.
"Good morning," she mumbles hoarsely.
'Good' wouldn't even begin to describe how glorious this morning is.
"Good morning," I reply softly, placing my hand over her cheek. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"No, it's fine," she smiles sleepily, nudging closer to me. I take her in my arms and kiss the top of her head, burying my face in her tangled hair.
"Slept well?" I ask her, my voice muffled as I breathe in her scent.
She kisses my chest softly before responding.
"If sleeping for a few hours after making love to a handsome Commander several times throughout the night is considered 'sleeping well', then yes, yes I have," she grins.
I grin back and trail my fingers along her back. Her head resting on my chest, she traces shapes across my chest hair, circling her fingers around it.
"My apologies for exhausting you, my lady," I respond wryly.
"Oh, don't apologise," she smirks. "I now expect this of you every night, Commander. Inquisitor's orders."
I let out a loud, chesty laugh. One of those genuine laughs that people can never seem to accurately fake.
I haven't laughed like this in a long time.
In over ten years, in fact.
"Is that so?" I smile, running my fingers through her hair.
And of course, my fingers manage to entangle themselves in it.
"Ouch!" she laughs.
Because it is such a typical thing for me to do.
"Sorry!" I exclaim, pulling my fingers away as gently and carefully as possible.
"I'm the one who should be apologising for the appalling state of my hair," she grimaces as she assesses it with her hands.
I place my fingers beneath her chin and tilt her face up to look at me.
"You are perfect," I whisper.
Red paints her cheeks as she smiles and sits up, lightly resting her forehead against mine.
"I..." I take a deep breath, overwhelmed by emotion. "I have never felt anything like this."
"I love you," she says. "You know that, right?"
I pause, allowing the effect of those majestic three words to wash over me.
"I love you too," I reply, my voice raw with emotion. I kiss her, and I unintentionally repeat the mistake of tangling my fingers in her hair again.
In one very swift and nimble movement, she swings one leg over my hips and straddles me without interrupting the kiss.
I hear a knock on my office door downstairs, but I completely disregard it.
"Aren't you going to answer that?" she whispers breathlessly.
"No," I mumble and place my hand on the back of her head, gently bringing her lips back to mine.
We take the time to explore each other this time. We were impatient, last night. And perhaps a little bit unsure. I know I certainly was.
But this morning, I am determined to outdo myself.
I move down from her lips to her breasts, where I linger because she makes it very evident to me that she enjoys it. Feeling considerably more confident in my abilities after our numerous love-making sessions the night prior, I move my lips back to her mouth and place my hands on either side of her waist. I roll over her, pinning her down to the bed and moving back down to her neck, her breasts, her stomach...
Her breathing hitches when she realises where my kisses are leading, and she rests her head on my pillow, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
I keep my eyes fixed on her when my mouth stops between her legs. She clutches at the bed sheets beneath her, her entire body trembling as I begin to pleasure her.
She does not last long, and I hold her down as she starts to twitch uncontrollably under my mouth, gradually slowing my tongue down but not stopping until she relaxes.
"Maker's breath," she exclaims weakly, barely able to catch her breath. "Where did you learn to do that?"
"On you, evidently," I grin crookedly, feeling exceptionally pleased with myself. "You were always good at giving directions."
She laughs as I crawl back up to her, her face flushed. She rolls us over again, positioning herself over me. I sit up, resting my back against the headboard, preferring the intimacy of this position.
We make love again, slowly and gently to start off, before picking up the pace, just the way she prefers it.
I have learned a number of things about her preferences in these last few hours, in fact.
Her sensitive spots.
Her favourite positions.
How she loves to hold my face and look me directly in the eye when she is close.
That last one is my personal favourite.
That, and the way she whispers and moans my name repeatedly into my ear, urging me to keep going.
Maker, the things her voice does to me...
Not that you needed to know that.
But I suppose it is far too late to spare the details now, isn't it?
"Maker's breath."
It is later in the evening, and I am sitting behind my desk, staring at an exceptionally expensive-looking tailored Orlesian coat held up by one of the couriers. It is a deep, royal blue, made entirely of velvet, and bejeweled all along the cuffs, collar and buttons.
"And did Ambassador Montilyet state why she is offering me this... this..."
"Coat?" the courier finishes helpfully.
"Quite," I say, continuing my staring contest with the adorned article of clothing.
"She wanted you to have something comfortable to slip into," the courier explains. "She stated that you cannot possibly be in your armour all the time."
I roll my eyes and scoff, standing up and walking around my desk towards the courier.
"I've practically been in armour for the last fifteen years, if not longer," I reply dryly as I examine the coat in closer detail. "And whenever I wasn't in it, I certainly never donned anything so..." I struggle to find the right word to describe this piece of extravagance.
"Pompous?" the courier offers.
"Yes," I chuckle down at the witty dwarf. "Pompous indeed! This is more akin to Dorian's extravagant taste, if you ask me."
"Shall I return it to her?"
"No," I sigh. "That wouldn't be right. She did send it to me as a gift, after all. It wouldn't do to return it."
"As you wish, Commander," the courier bows and leaves.
I am left alone with the coat, scratching my head as I appraise it with wary eyes, as though it is a foreign creature that I had never laid eyes on before.
Where on earth am I expected to wear that?
An hour later, I voice my bewilderment to Evelyn at the dinner table.
"Maybe it's for the upcoming ball at Halamshiral?" she suggests as she cuts her ham.
"No, I've seen those at the tailor's a few days ago," I reply. "They're not all that bad, actually."
"Nothing looks bad on you, Commander," she grins. "You've managed to make a lion's mane look marvelous around your neck. Few could pull it off at all, let alone as well as you do."
I laugh at her sardonicism, feeling myself blush despite the evident humour behind her compliment.
"I want to see it," she says excitedly. "Are you free after dinner?"
"For you, I will always make time," I tell her in a voice low enough to be heard by her ears only. She smiles and bats her eyelashes, her eyes moving back to her plate again.
For the first time in weeks, I have not only managed to completely wolf down my food at every meal today, I have also managed to have second helpings.
And apparently, according to Varric, I have a new "spring" in my step.
"I like it," he told me this afternoon. "It's strange as hell, but I like it."
"Look at him, all smiling and fuzzy," I overhear Sera tell Dorian across the dining table. "Really likes having a woman on top of him, that one, doesn't he?"
"So you do have something in common with him after all!" Dorian exclaims happily.
"Shut up!" she jabs him playfully in the ribs.
I purse my lips, trying to suppress a laugh.
They all make a very valid and undeniable point.
Finally, after years of darkness, I can truly say that I am happy, despite a few lingering personal demons and the troubles plaguing Thedas.
And I owe it all to the woman seated beside me, who is focused on picking out all the eggplant from her dish.
"I hate eggplants," she wrinkles her nose in disgust when she notices me smiling at her.
"So I noticed," I chuckle.
After dinner, we walk to my office, arm in arm, to show her my new gift.
"That knock on the door this morning?" I tell her as I open the door and let her through.
"Hmm?" she asks, playing with an apple in her hand.
"That was the courier."
"Wasn't it a bit early for a delivery?" she asks, taking a loud bite of her apple and hopping onto my desk.
"I am usually well awake by that time," I grin sheepishly at her, a thrill passing through me when I see her sitting in the exact same spot she chose the previous evening. "This morning was... the exception."
She blushes and looks away, her lashes fluttering.
"So, where is this magnificent coat that has you terrified, then?" she asks, her eyes scanning my office.
"Right here," I say, striding over to my chair and picking it up. I hold it in both hands to show her clearly.
"It's beautiful," she says in awe, her eyes widening as she takes it all in. "Try it on!"
Reluctantly, I shrug out of my fur and armour and comply with her request.
Surprisingly, it is a perfect fit.
Or perhaps not so surprisingly. We do have a spymaster in our midst, after all.
"Maker's breath, Cullen," Evelyn says, her expression stunned. "You look... Maker. You look incredible."
"I do?" I ask uncertainly, looking down at the coat and stretching out my arms before my eyes to survey the sleeves.
"Are you blind, Commander?" she asks with ridicule. "Do you have a full-length mirror about? In your quarters, perhaps?"
"No," I shake my head.
"Well that settles it, doesn't it?" she laughs a little before shaking her head in disbelief. "You have no idea, do you?" she asks with wonder.
"No idea about what?" I ask with a raised brow.
She sets her half-eaten apple on my desk and approaches me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. She smiles at my confusion, shaking her head again as she cups my face in her hands.
"No idea how ridiculously handsome you are," she responds.
I swallow, feeling at an utter loss of words to say as I gaze into her eyes, dark in the candlelight. She closes her eyes, and I do the same, and we lean in closer, our lips-
"Commander?" I hear a soldier's muffled voice call out as he knocks thrice against my door.
I sigh and look at her apologetically before striding to the door and opening it.
"Yes, James?" I ask. I notice the young man's eyebrows rise so high into his forehead, they are in danger of permanently disappearing.
I must admit it takes me a moment to realise what elicited such a reaction.
"Do not ask," I warn him, and he shakes his head, though he fails to suppress the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as his eyes quickly flit away from my coat and back to my face.
"Seeker Cassandra is requesting you and the Inquisitor to meet her and the rest of the advisors in the war room, Commander," he informs me.
"Tell her we will be there shortly," I nod and close the door.
"More work?" Evelyn smiles from behind the desk.
"It appears so," I sigh, shrugging out of the coat and putting on my familiar garb.
"We don't want to keep Cassandra waiting, then," she says. She puts her apple down and helps me put my armour back on.
"How partial are you to your bed, Commander?" she suddenly asks me.
What an odd question.
"Err... not particularly," I respond hesitantly.
Why? Was it uncomfortable last night?
"Good," she pats me on the back to signal that I am good to go. I turn around and find her smiling.
"That means you wouldn't terribly mind sleeping in my quarters tonight, would you?" she asks.
I grin and take her in my arms, giving her a quick, tender kiss before we depart.
"No," I smile, my lips still close enough to brush against hers. "Not at all."
Note: Just wanted to say that I haven't completely forgone cullen's nightmare that takes place the morning after. i just didn't want to include it in the same sequence. you know... to keep this story from being predictable. nothing ruins a story like predictability, right? i'll throw it in somewhere because i think it's a very vital part of his turmoil. just not when my readers are expecting it ;)