"Snort" told from Cullen's point of view. ^.^
He patted his pocket in a nervous gesture as he made his way up the stairs, checking that the small band of metal that Dagna had just given him was still tucked safely away.
After a few more steps he repeated the action.
He made himself drop his hand. It wasn't going to go anywhere, not by simply walking across the main hall, and he was going to have the chance to put it away safely when he got to their room, someplace it wouldn't get lost until he decided to use it.
He still wasn't sure about that.
He had asked Dagna about making it a few days after Corypheus had been defeated, impatient to have it done, but he had no actual plans to use it until he could come up with the best way to present the idea to her.
Not that he was even sure she was interested in marriage. She had joked about… but that didn't mean it was something she had seriously thought about doing.
With him.
He lifted a hand to massage at his neck, his thoughts darkening as he rounded the top of the steps into the main room of their quarters, his eyes doing a quick scan for her.
It was amazing how quickly his mind cleared when his gaze settled on the lump in the bed.
Of course she was still asleep. Why would he ever have assumed otherwise?
The ring forgotten in his pocket, he moved towards the bed until he could make out the reddish brown tufts of hair that stuck out from the cocoon she had wrapped herself in. She had moved to his side of the bed, a consistent habit after he left each morning that never failed to make him smile, and was so enmeshed in the blanket around her that it took him a few moments to discern where an end was so he could grab it.
He gave a few tugs until the top half of her head was free and the tattoo lines across her forehead were wrinkled together in sleepy dismay. He thought she might look at him after that but she turned her face into the pillow instead.
He smiled at the attempt to ignore him and gave another few tugs, revealing her chin and the tips of her shoulders.
"Nell."
Her voice was muffled when she spoke, and obviously annoyed. "Go away."
"It's nearly noon."
"I killed a darkspawn magister, I am allowed to sleep until noon."
He chuckled at that, since it was the same excuse she had been using for nearly a week, and tugged at the blanket again until her chest was visible. "That was over two weeks ago. Josephine has informed me that have spent enough time holed up, and you have to come and meet with the nobles who have arrived whether you want to or not."
When she made a few more sounds he continued. "She also told me to tell you that you have to act friendly."
That seemed to catch her attention and she rolled onto her back with a groan, her eyes squinting open to look at him as her fingers wrapped around the blanket to try and pull it back up.
He simply raised a brow at her when she pursed her lips and waited until she added, "I'm always friendly".
His eyes widened at the statement before he burst out a laugh. He might believe that if he hadn't once heard her tell a Comte that he was a vile piece of filth with his own ears.
"Go ahead, pull the other one."
She had started to smile when he laughed and she scrubbed a hand over her chin as it widened. "Well, I'm not mean."
They both continued to smile for a few seconds before she gave an exaggerated sigh and shoved the blankets off of her. He watched as she tumbled herself out of the bed, her hands reaching up to scrub through her hair. "Fine. Fine."
She staggered past him and into the changing room, mumbling something about him having to go with her, while he made a halfhearted attempt to right the covers on the bed so that they at least somewhat resembled being made up.
By the time he made his way to the door of the room she had already scrubbed water over her face and through her hair and was sliding into her under armor.
He wasn't surprised she wanted to dress in her battle robes to meet with the nobles. She liked to think it made her look more intimidating.
It usually didn't, but who was he to ruin the illusion?
"I have work I need to do with the troops that are about to head out."
She frowned as her hands worked together the buttons of her top, annoyance flashing in the dark purple of her eyes. "I wasn't aware of any troop movement."
"Because you've been holed up for the past two weeks."
She made a face even as she moved towards him, her hands coming up to brace against his arms so that she could push up and kiss his chin. "Don't act like you weren't holed up here with me most of the time."
Oh no, he definitely remembered, and had enjoyed every relaxed moment of it. It had been something new for them both, not having set in stone time constraints.
He slid his arms around her waist, intent on telling her as much, when she abruptly pulled back a look of confusion on her face.
"What are you wearing?
He immediately dropped his hands from where they still rested on her sides and, unsure what else to do, gave a quick tug at the hem of his jacket, his gaze moving to the washstand.
He had really been hoping she would be too tired to notice. He should have known better.
"Clothes, why?"
"You aren't wearing your armor."
"I don't always wear armor."
He could see the look of blatant skepticism she shot him out of the corner of his eye as she replied. "Yes you do."
He found himself rubbing at his neck again, unable to help the nervous habit, even as he looked back to her with a frown. "I was informed that now that Corypheus has been defeated I have to look less… formidable when dealing with our guests. Apparently it gives a bad impression to look serious and be wearing armor all the time."
By the time he finished speaking she looked far too much like a cat that had gotten into the cream, and when she replied he could hear the tremor of humor in her voice. "Josephine is making you dress up for the nobles?" When he simply continued to frown, her laugh slipped out and she moved back to him, her hands smoothing up and over his back. "If it helps, I like the idea of easier access to you."
He couldn't help the smile that followed the almost immediate idea that he couldn't fault ease of access either. "Is that so?"
She made some sound in her throat and rose to her toes to kiss him.
He wanted to deepen it, wanted to forget their duties and simply enjoy her, but both of them had work to do so he gave a mental groan and pulled away from her. "You aren't going to distract me."
Her groan was far more vocal and she spun away from him and out the door with an over done swoon. He followed her, amused, as she landed back on the bed, her legs dangling off the side, and came to stand between them. "There are only five of them, if that helps."
She waved her arms above her before flinging them out to her sides. "Don't tell me that. I can easily set five people on fire. Tell me there's fifty and the only way I can get to lunch is by stroking each of their egos."
He smiled at the idea, watching as she closed her eyes again. Seeing nothing else for it, and knowing this game well, he reached forward and hauled her to a sitting position by her hands. When she was upright again, he left to retrieve her outer robe and brought it back to place around her. When she had slid her arms into it he took her hands again, pulling her up to stand in front of him.
Since her eyes were still closed, he took a moment to study her, his fingers flexing around hers as he did so. She had an amused quirk to her lips, and her head was tilted back as if she expected him to kiss her. When he didn't she opened her eyes again and spoke. "If I stand here long enough will you carry me down?"
"No. It would hardly look heroic for the Inquisitor to be carried around," he replied, humor lacing his voice.
She rolled her eyes at the answer and leaned a bit more into him. "I've never been the heroic sort."
He couldn't argue that. "That's true," he stated instead, an idea forming in his mind that would both amuse him and get her to where she needed to be. So when she started to smile at his words, he dipped down and grabbed her around her knees, lifting until she fell unceremoniously over his shoulder and clamping his arms around her hips and legs.
He started out of the room, ignoring the yelp of protest she gave. When she started wiggling he simply tightened his grip.
"This isn't what I meant!"
"You really should learn to be more specific then."
"I'm going to freeze you to the floor."
It was an empty threat and they both knew it, she had always excelled at fire magic, but her ability to ice was limited to freezing water or creating half solid lumps.
"You aren't that good with ice."
She didn't seem interested in arguing that, probably because she knew he was right, but she did start slapping at his back and wiggling her hips enough to hit him solidly in the side of the head a few times.
He had to focus to keep ahold of her, amusing spiraling through him at the picture they probably made. He couldn't help the laugh that came out any more then he could help laughing harder when he came to a stop and dropped her into his arms and she punched him.
The angle was off for any solid weight behind it, and she had never been the most physically strong person.
He buried his face in her neck, muffling the sounds of his laughter against her skin.
He didn't know what it was about the whole situation, but he suddenly didn't want to wait for the right time to give her the ring he still carried, didn't want to wait to set up some orchestrated moment where everything had to be perfect, because it probably wouldn't be. They never managed to get perfect down right.
A moment came to him, one of the many he had stored in his memory since he had met her.
"If you ever snort when you laugh I'll have to marry you."
He didn't let himself think about it. He over thought too much, especially when it came to her. Instead, he tilted his face so that his lips ghosted over her ear and made a point to end his laugh on the most obvious snort he could think of.
It made him feel slightly ridiculous, but if it worked it would well be worth it.
He knew the moment she remembered her own words because she froze against him before slowly pushing herself back so she could look at his face, her expression somewhere between wariness and confusion.
"Did you just snort?"
He thought it would probably be better if they were both standing, and gave a nod as he set her feet on the ground, his hands coming up to steady her when she wobbled slightly. "I did."
"Oh."
"If I recall correctly, I think you said you would have to marry me if I did that. It was a long time ago though, so maybe I'm remembering it wrong."
He kept his face blank, unsure how to take her look of uncertainty, and dropped his hands from her so that he could find the ring, which he suddenly couldn't remember which pocket he had put it in. He patted at himself until he found it then drew it out. "You said it would have to be a marriage like 'us Chantry people' do, so you will need a ring."
He held the ring out to her, and watched as her mouth dropped open a bit and her eyes widened. She didn't try to take it though, simply continued to stare at him in silence. It made worry trickle down his spine and he shifted against the feel of it. "If-If you want it."
She stared at him another moment before words came rushing out, sounding choked and not a little terrified. "You… got me a ring?"
"I had Dagna make it. She did something to it that I don't understand that will help keep you protected while you're fighting, or so she says. I wanted you to have something you didn't have to worry about switching out when you were in the field." He forced his voice to remain steady as he replied to her, despite feeling sweat pool uncomfortably around his collar.
She went back to staring between him and the ring respectively, and he wanted to punch himself. This had been a terrible idea. He should have known better. She was Dalish, of course she wouldn't want to marry under some Chantry law. Not to mention she was the Inquisitor and he was her Commander and even with Corypheus defeated they both had more important things to worry about.
And why would she want to tie herself to him when he still had so many things he was trying to work through? The thought tugged at the back of his mind and he couldn't banish it. Marriage was just another tie, and she had already given him enough, she needed to be able to keep an out that didn't involve the complications of marriage and he couldn't blame her for that.
He should have known better.
Now he just hoped he could fix it without losing her completely.
He looked away and dropped his hand lower, his thoughts whirling in a dark cloud. "This… um… was a really bad idea wasn't it? I- I wasn't going to ask you now, but, uh, it just came out, and… I had picked this up earlier today so it was in my pocket… and… and just forget I said anything."
He started to turn away, folding the ring into his hand so neither of them had to look at it, when she grabbed at him.
"Wait!" She pried his hand open so that the ring was revealed again. "You- You're taking it back?"
There was a panicked edge to her voice, and her grip on his hand was almost painful even as she stared up at him wide eyed.
Wait… what?
"You want it?"
Her fingers managed to tighten even more somehow, and her voice had risen and her words were tight when she spoke again. "You said you had it made for me. So that means it's mine, right?"
She… she wanted it? Still unsure of himself he nodded slowly. "Yes."
"So I want it." She practically snatched the ring from his palm then turned it over and over in her fingers for a few moments. He worried that she wouldn't like the detail on it, or the fact that it was a lion. He wasn't even sure if he liked it. Harritt had done the design and all he had been able to get him to say about it was "Seemed appropriate" before he had grumbled at him and Dagna both and moved off.
Dagna had giggled and agreed leaving him blushing and fidgety and quick to take his leave.
"It's beautiful."
Her words drew him back and he felt his brows lower because he still wasn't sure what to make of what she was saying. "Just… just so I-um…uh…" He took a breath, annoyed that he was having such a hard time getting the words out. It was too important though, and he was too afraid of the answer. "Are you just wanting the ring or-" He trailed off again, giving up when she looked up from the ring to him. She still looked terrified; he wondered if she knew that.
"You want to marry a Dalish elven mage?" Her voice had gone quiet with the words, and he watched as she curled her fingers around the ring and pulled it closer to her body as if she was afraid he was going to take it from her.
The gesture steadied him, and he lifted a cautious hand to play at the tips of her hair in an attempt to settle her. "I want to marry you. I'd want to marry you even if you were a seven foot tall qunari who was a stout follower of the Qun."
She leaned towards his hand and laughed, even as her gaze moved away. After a few seconds her features clouded again and he watched as her brow furrowed. "I'm serious. There's no guarantee that I will always be the Inquisitor, and when I'm not anymore you are going to be married to an elven mage. It won't be easy, not everyone is as race blind as you apparently are, and if things for mages don't change people will never stop fearing us. I'm used to people treating me that way, I can ignore it, but you would have it wor-"
He moved his hands to her jaw, thumbs reaching up to brush over the tips of her vallaslin as she spoke, her words tumbling faster as her shoulders hunched tightly. He didn't want her to ever think such things. It didn't matter to him what anyone else might say, it would be their loss not his. How could she think that what anyone else thought would ever be more important to him then her?
He used his lips to cut off the words of worry. Maybe it did make sense, she had dealt with it all her life, and who was he to tell her that she was being foolish. It didn't change anything however, and the thought calmed his mind. He hadn't doubted his feelings for her in a very long time, and her uncertainty with such things always seemed to steady him more.
He smiled against her mouth before pulling away. "I don't care. I want to marry you, I have for a long time but I promised myself I wouldn't even consider asking until Corypheus was dealt with. I want to spend my life with you, whether it's here or me chasing after you in the woods because you decide to rejoin your clan. And I desperately want to be able to tell any more nobles who ask if I'm married that I am, and they are more than welcome to take it up with my wife."
His thumbs brushed her cheeks again when she returned his smile, relief obvious in the way her whole body seemed to relax. "I'm not saying we have to get married today, I just… I just wanted to ask, we can figure out the rest as we go."
"Seems like the story of our entire relationship."
It did, and that observation made him smile more. "Well, it's worked for us so far." He leaned in to kiss her again even as he reached down to her still clenched hand. He worked the ring out of it and then slid it over the knuckles of her finger until it rested at the base. "So, you never really answered. Will you be my wife, eventually?"
It was her turn to kiss him this time, which she did before looking down at where the ring rested on her hand. "Yes, but I have a feeling it will be sooner rather than later when the others hear about this."
He wanted to shout. He wanted to scoop her up and spin her around until they were both dizzy, but she was still her, and he was still him, and so instead he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew in an amused breath. "You're probably right."
She pressed herself into his chest a moment, her hands gripping at his back while he buried his nose in her hair, feeling more thankful than he had in his entire life. Every hard moment when he wasn't sure he was strong enough to continue, every remembered bad memory of his past, if it lead to this, to her, he could endure it.
She was blunt, and annoying, and she poked and prodded, and she slept more than any normal person should, and she was the leader of the Inquisition so would never belong completely to herself. But she smelled like a campfire in the snow, and rubbed his temples when he had a headache, and made him laugh.
He was very sure he was the luckiest man in Thedas.
"You do realize you aren't going to get me out of this room now until I take you upstairs and strip this very nice outfit off of you so I can have my way with you, right?"
Her words beat against his chest and had him laughing. He no longer cared about keeping up appearances, or being on time. He wanted to ride out this moment, this feeling, for as long as he could. "I'll be sure to apologize to Josephine personally. I think she will forgive us being late under the circumstances."
She tilted her head back to smile at him before stepping away and taking his hand, drawing him back up the stairs. "I'll just let her know that she can decorate for any ceremony we have. That should placate her."
"You're a shrewd observer, Inquisitor. I'm lucky to have found you."
They reached the main room again and she gave him a playful shove towards the bed, climbing over him when he settled back onto it. "You're about to get a lot luckier."
He let his hands slide over her thighs, lifting his head just enough to smooth his lips over the armor padded slope of her shoulder.
"Oh. Good."
