A sound broke Cullen from his sleep, and he blearily opened his eyes. He blinked, the world rolling and jerking with him. He was staring up at a low ceiling, wood just like Elya's cottage, but it wasn't right. He yawned, lifting his arms above his head and stretched, his hand knocking into something. Frowning as he scrubbed at his too long whiskers, he tilted his head so he could see what he had run into. A small table with a basin on it. Then his eyes ran into the slobbering tongue of a Mabari splayed on his side, blissfully asleep. That's right; he had let the animal in at some point during the night while tending to-
Abruptly he sat up, his memory returning as another groan weakly sounded from the bed he had been sleeping next to. Elya. He tossed back the blanket he has wrapped himself in, shoving it aside with the second pillow he had snagged from the bed, and raised himself from the floor. He woke the dog, a strange snorting sound escaping from his nose as he jerked to a sitting position.
Elya was awake, but she had her eyes tightly shut, nose scrunched as she breathed heavily through her mouth. Concerned, Cullen sat down at her hip, brushing back strands of hair still damp from her fever. A quick touch told him though it was light, she was still suffering. "Love?" He asked gently, keeping things quiet for her, "How are you feeling?"
"Sick," her voice was barely audible, spoken through clenched teeth. "The movement-" Just then the ship made a pitching motion, tilting forward then back. Elya shot up, clamped a hand over her mouth, going even greener. She hunched into herself, and Cullen's hands shot to the almost empty bowl of water.
Just in time. Elya's shoulders jerked once more, and she grabbed the basin and threw up. His chest hurting, Cullen gently caught up the loose strands of her hair and pulled them back, keeping them out of her way. Her body curled into herself, tense and trembling, and she continued to heave. Little miserable sounds escaped with her panting between each bout, and she was soon emptied of all contents, dry heaves shuddering through her body. Tears leaked out of her clenched eye, goosebumps rising all over her exposed skin. He placed a hand on her back, her flesh clammy with the combined effects of fever and sickness, and softly rubbed in circles trying to sooth her. The Mabari came up and rested his head against Cullen's leg, his intelligent eyes sad and he whined softly. He didn't like to see her suffering either.
Elya finally stopped, and she sighed as she slumped back against her pillows. He could see she was still shaking, and he swiftly plucked the bowl from her lap and returned it to the table, then tucked the sheets back up around her bare shoulders. "Can I get you anything?" He knew his voice was rough with worry and helplessness and he dashed away the tears still staining her cheeks.
For a moment she only sniffed, her lashes dark against too pale cheeks. She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and hazily opened her eyes. "Water?" She croaked, and he involuntarily swallowed at the broken sound. Of course.
"I will be but a moment. Rest," With one last brush of fingers, he stood and collected the bowl. A glance to the dog showed his eyes were still trained on Elya's face; Cullen gave him a praising pat and quickly left the room.
He emptied and rinsed the basin, keeping it with him as he rushed to the galley. Vaguely he noticed that it was barely bright outside, just after sunrise. How many hours had he slept? Two, three? It wasn't important right now.
The galley was filled with a half dozen sailors, all eating from bowls that appeared to be filled with oatmeal. He ignored their curious looks, heading to where the kitchen area sat against one wall. A barrel of water beckoned, and he filled up a large mug. He wished that he could bring her tea, something warm to ease her throat, but he wasn't going to waste time heating up the water.
Within five minutes, Cullen was back in the cabin, helping Elya rise so she could clean her mouth. The Mabari, Cullen really should give him a name, moved out of his way, leaning against a wall and looked morosely at Elya's face, quiet and worried. Once again, the hound showed remarkable intelligence, knew without Cullen having to say that Elya needed quiet and calm.
Tentatively Elya sipped, letting the water settle in her stomach. Cullen spoke into the quiet, "You said 'the movement' before. Seasick?" He took the empty cup from her and settled her back down on the bed. A small part of his mind registered that she was still naked, but he was too concerned for her to take much note of it. Good; he wasn't a complete bastard then.
Elya nodded weakly and sighed as the boat rolled again. But for at least the moment she did not have that green pallor. "Yes. I am a horrible sea traveler. Long carriage rides as well."
"Why didn't you tell me? Or that you were getting sick?" Did she not feel like she could tell him of her worries or troubles?
Her eyes rested lightly on his face, and she answered with a careless grace, "Because it was more important to get you safely out of Orlais."
"Oh." He blinked down at her, unable to speak, his chest swirling with mixed emotions. Grateful for her determination, exasperation that she hadn't shared with him, a hint of sadness, but mostly, mostly he was hopeful. Hopeful that she cared for him just as much as he cared for her. If she was so bent on keeping him safe, that meant something, did it not?
He desperately wished to kiss her then, the urge making his hands clench. He wanted to pour out his emotions into her, but it was not the time. Instead he bent and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. "Thank you Elya," he whispered against her fevered skin, wanting to convey more but didn't know how.
Her sigh was a soft caress against his neck, and he pulled back to see her smile slightly. He cleared his throat, still too blocked with words he couldn't say yet, and stood. "Would you like the window open?" Safe, back to what she needed, not him.
"Yes, that would be wonderful. Sometimes cool air helps." He nodded as he checked the conditions outside, making sure it was safe. Windy, as the boat's rocking could attest to, but not raining. It was the faint blue of early morning, the sun peeking through scattered grey clouds. He popped open the thick glass and the tangy scent of salt water rush inside, dissipating the staleness.
Cullen smothered a yawn with his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, picking up his bedding still twisted on the floor. Another night with the dog as his companion.
"Cullen, have you slept?" There was a hint in her voice, one he recognized immediately. His lips quirked as he heard both his mother and Mia in the chiding tone.
Bashfully, he shook his head, drinking in her annoyed frown even as she lay prone. "I was just about to, though. And you should as well. It will help you get over your seasickness." With that, he set the pillow down.
As he was about to lower herself to the floor, Elya's sharp tone brought him to a halt. "Nonsense." He jerked his head up to see her shifting in the bed, moving towards the cabin wall. "There is plenty of room here for you."
He froze for a half second. It was a bad idea. He knew it was a bad idea. She was still ill… she was still naked. He hadn't really been aware it earlier, but sleeping next to her… he would certainly be aware of that factor. He was moving before he noticed, leaning down to pick up the pillow.
In the empty spot she had created Cullen made sure the covers were fully up before taking his spot. He apparently couldn't resist the chance to lie next to her, but he wasn't risking slipping beneath the sheets. He spread the blanket over himself and settled back against the pillow, his body thanking him for the softness of the bed as opposed to the floor. And his nose thanked him for the elfroot scent of Elya instead of the wet Mabari who now wheezed out a sigh as he lay down, disappointed on missing out on the bed deal the humans had. The berth seemed to be made for two; the faint press of her arm and leg to his distinct even with the covers between them, yet not too close. He could hear Elya's breathing, deep and calm. She was asleep already, he thought. He crossed his arms over his chest, a rueful smile on his lips. He got into bed with her, and she fell asleep. He felt his own exhaustion pulling him down and surrendered to it, grateful for the distraction of unconsciousness.
The ship was still swaying and jolting through the waves, but it no longer made Elya feel like she was going to be sick. She had adjusted. Light filled the cabin; it was sometime during the day, the natural brightening not coming from a candle or lamp. She rolled over in the bed that had been her permanent companion for the past days, just now finally feeling well enough to be aware. Except, she couldn't fully turn to her side; something was weighing against her feet.
She pushed herself upright, wincing at how stiff and weak she felt, and frowned down to the end of the bed. Her eyes clashed with pitiful brown ones, the huge body of the Mabari taking up the whole width of the bed. His head remained pathetically down on his paws, his stump of a tail thumping hopefully against the blankets of the sheets.
The warm affectionate smile broke through before she was even aware and she was reaching down for him. Capturing his small sharp ears in her hands for scratches, she cooed, "Are you not supposed to be up here, boy? Did Cullen tell you no?" A giggle was rising in her throat at the mental picture of Cullen lecturing the dog while being looked at as she just had. The Mabari had that begging, sad look down. Cullen would have felt like a heel… but he had probably thought it was best for her. "Are you being a naughty puppy?"
The Mabari leaned into her hands, panting and barking lightly while listening to her. Elya swore she saw his playful grin. He knew he was getting away with things he was not supposed to, and she didn't care she was undermining Cullen's authority. Such a sweet animal deserved to be a little spoiled. She noticed that he had been washed, his coat now an umber brown with white spots flecking his back and in a solid swath over his chest. She shook her head; she would never have guessed white lay underneath all that dirt. He was a handsome lad, in a fierce way, but he needed help still. Too skinny and his teeth needed some serious attention or they would be beyond repair, and she suspected that he was still limping. Yet his trials had not made him mean, he had held onto his kindness.
Her stomach gurgled, the noise accompanied by a cramping sensation, surprising her. She was hungry. How long had it been since she had eaten anything? She pressed her lips together as she tried to recall specifics, but there were only little snippets of time, hazy memories. A couple days perhaps. She remembered Cullen sleeping next to her three times, remembered turning into his chest, his solidness helping keeping her grounded while the boat lifted and fell. She wished she could remember more of that, despite how awful she had felt.
Cullen had been amazing. He had helped cool her during all her fevers, had changed her bedding more than once. The nightgown she wearing was one he had found, thick and warm, helping her when she had shivered through bouts of attempted sleep. Every time she had been sick from the movement of the boat, he had been a calm presence, holding her hair back and getting rid of the mess. He had thoughtfully asked her about any medicines she had brought along, and she had described a fever reducer she had packed; she wouldn't have thought of it on her own, too sluggish and drifting. During all of it, he had never balked, never complained or made her feel like the burden she knew she was.
She smiled softly down at the twist of hair spilling over her shoulder; he had even tried to braid her hair, despite obviously not knowing how. Her fingers rose to touch the loose strands beneath a crooked bow. She felt… treasured, though he received nothing for helping her. Precious and protected.
Is that what being Cullen's wife was like?
Her gaze grew unfocused, fingers stilling at the thought. He was acting as her husband, so would this be how he treated his wife? With care and attention, selfless when she needed aid? Elya closed her eyes, trying to remember it all, but it was too distant, like dreams that faded with the morning.
There were a few things. Most distinctly, the warm press of his lips against her forehead each time she started to drift to sleep. Cullen's wife would receive those kisses. And others. Kisses like the one they had shared in her loft, like the one in the forest. Heat flooded her cheeks, a pulse radiating from her core. Cullen's wife could have those kisses any time she would like… any time he would like.
She would be a lucky woman, whoever she was.
The Mabari's nose jerked towards the door, his small ears swiveling as he heard something. He jumped off the bed, dashing over to a nest of blankets that had been arranged on the floor just as Elya heard footsteps coming to the door. The dog assumed his same relaxed pose, on his stomach with legs crossed before him, big head down.
The door swung open, and Cullen came through. His attention was caught by the Mabari, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he looked between the flattened blankets at the end of the bed and his resting spot on the floor. The war hound raised his head delicately, an innocent expression etched into each canine feature. Cullen didn't buy it, but he just shook his head and closed the door.
Nervous energy filled her chest, her heart fluttering and jumping strangely as she caught Cullen's profile. She traced her eyes over his tousled curls, the deep set of his eyes, the proud nose, and the faintly pink scar leading to those sensual lips. Her gaze lingered there, those feelings growing stronger, warmer. She licked her own lips, mouth suddenly too dry.
Cullen turned and saw her sitting up in bed. His concerned gaze ran over her quickly, hurrying a few steps to her until his gaze reached her face. He faltered and stopped, his own lips parting on an inhale. Her core grew warmer, that pulsing sensation returning. She had felt this before, when he had licked inside her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers. Pressed against his body, tasting her first kiss of desire and intimacy. It had been wondrous, and not enough. She knew there was more to it than that; she was not the sheltered innocent she had been years ago. Cullen's wife would know the completion of that kiss. Would it be as shattering as she thought it would be?
Cullen's mouth snapped shut, his jaw flexing as he cleared his throat. It snapped her out of her trance, once again bringing heat to her face, but it didn't dissipate the rest of it lingering in her body. "You're awake," Cullen said, his voice slightly rough. He slowly crossed to the side of the bed, and Elya rotated to keep facing him. "Are you feeling better now? Can I get you anything?"
This man, his concern and sweetness; she was going to break. Her lips parted, air tight in her lungs to speak, ask, demand…
Her stomach gurgled, cutting off her words. Amusement sprang into his eyes, his lips curling. A little laugh escaped her lips, and the powerful moment drifted away. She wasn't sure if she was annoyed or relieved and she wasn't going to think about it right now. There would be time later. "I could use some food. Then, if I can, maybe a walk around the deck."
Cullen smiled charmingly, a lifting of the right side of his lips into a lopsided grin. "That sounds like an excellent plan." He held out his hand for her, and she twined her fingers with his, accepting his help to slide from the bed and finally stand on her own feet again. "I'm glad you are feeling better."
"Oh, me too," she said fervently, stabilizing herself against the table when the boat rolled, so glad she didn't feel the need to use the basin.
Cullen laughed and gently tugged on her untidy braid. "Why don't you get dressed, and I will get you some food."
At the word food, the Mabari sprung to his feet and dashed out the door, barking in excitement. Elya and Cullen just looked at each other, and burst into laughter. Cullen shook his head as he shut the door, leaving Elya feeling happier than she had in several long days.