His first clear memory of anything from the last two years. Cullen was obsessed with it. Not because he finally had a breakthrough, but because of what the memory contained. She had come and found him that day on battlements, after weeks of being away on some mission he couldn't remember. He just remembered how she walked towards him, her step so quick she was almost running. And Maker, that look in her eyes. Like she wanted to devour him. She didn't say a word, she just kissed him with a hunger so intense it made Cullen groan just thinking about the memory of it. The way she had wanted him made something stir deep inside him, something dark but not in a bad way. For the first time in his life, it was lust so deep and pure that there was nothing for him to be ashamed of. She took all the bad out of it. He didn't know how she'd managed to put the fear of demons and sin and burning out of him, since he couldn't remember anything before that day. But she must have done it somehow because his memory contained none of that.

Only the searing hunger, the feel of her against him, her tongue licking inside of his mouth, how wet and hot, how incredible it felt. He was vaguely aware of how everyone near them made themselves scarce, leaving them to reunite without anyone interrupting them. Not that either of them cared right then.

He remembered – like it had just happened – how he pushed her against the stone of the battlement, craving the surface's solidity as it abled him to crush her against him even tighter. The sounds of pleasure she made, how she whimpered when his hand pushed against her cunt, made the last of his restraint fly over the side of the keep and down into the abyss. He kissed and bit and licked his way down her neck and ripped her shirt open. She arched her back in a feline move and gasped and moaned as his mouth found her breast, still rubbing his hand between her legs. Control lost to the wind, he couldn't wait a second longer, the need to thrust himself into her warm, wet, waiting slickness so overpowering, he didn't even consider where they were, in broad daylight. He didn't give a fuck if someone saw them or not, that was not important. The only thing that mattered was his hunger for her, which she very clearly met with equal fervor, judging by the way she'd reached into his pants and stroked his hardness, all too confined in the tightness of the fabric.

He turned her around, pinning her hands behind her back while he rubbed himself against her ass and licked and bit her ear while she was mumbling all the things that she wanted him to do to her, things he'd never heard someone say out loud before, dirty, filthy – amazing things. He wanted nothing more than to oblige her dirty mouth and was so ready to make it happen when that idiot courier had walked straight out on the walkway and up to them without even looking up once, his head so deep in the papers he was carrying.

Cullen shook his head as he thought of the end of the memory. It was all Trev could do to stop him from hurtling the bastard over the side, just like he'd told the man yesterday when the memory first appeared to him. He went running off and Cullen was left fuming, the adrenaline and the high he was still on from what he'd just been doing with Trev leaving his mood more agressive than usual.

Trev had only laughed that soft, melodious laugh of hers and kissed him until he calmed down somewhat. But then she remembered that she was late for a meeting and had to leave him there, but not before she made him promise not to hunt down the poor man and kill him. She did comfort him by asking him if he would feel any better if the courier was reassigned, to which he just grumbled. She laughed again and said she would take care of it, the man was obviously not cut out to be a scout anyway since his sense of discretion was clearly non-existent.

Now, that one memory was all that occupied Cullen's mind. He couldn't concentrate on anything but his ravenous desire to feel her like that again. He had started following Cassandra around in her daily work, like he'd told Trev. Frankly, it was boring for him. He felt like he already knew it all, and in a way he did. He just wasn't up to speed with numbers and certain recent events, plans that had been made and so on. So he didn't feel particularly guilty about his obsession with Trev.

She was in a hectic period of work right now, with lots of politics to manouver around. And Cassandra was swamped with things to do as well so he was kept busy. But he still saw her pretty much every day, just not in private. It was agony – seeing her and imagining all the things he would do to her if they were alone, but never getting the chance. He was going to burst soon, he could feel it. How he craved her touch, how his whole body tensed and shuddered when she looked at him from underneath her thick, dark lashes, the way she brushed his arm as she exited the room. It was getting ridiculous how every little thing she did set him off.

He considered taking care of himself some nights but always decided against it. That wasn't what he wanted. All he wanted, needed, was her. And if he didn't get what he wanted soon, somebody would get hurt. His mood was foul whenever she wasn't around, and he wanted to strangle everyone who took so much of her time. Leliana, Cassandra, all the pesky nobles most of all. If he heard one more fucking Orlesian shout "Inquisitor!" when he saw her headed for him, forcing her to stop and direct her attention to them, he would fucking stab them.

He realized this wasn't exactly a good thing but he couldn't help how he felt. He could only think of her.

He'd spent an entire week in this state when it finally seemed like he would succeed in getting her alone for a few moments. He saw her cross the courtyard into a side door of the keep. He knew that route after his extensive exploration of Skyhold when he'd had nothing to do. It was a good short-cut but very dark and he didn't feel comfortable with her going through there alone, so he hurried after her, but it was also because he was unable to keep the dark thoughts filled with desire at bay. What they could do down there, alone in the dark...

She was some way ahead of him so she'd already had time to walk at least half the corridor by the time Cullen opened the door and slipped in.

He was surprised to hear voices ahead of him.

"You're too gorgeous to resist... I could give you everything, you would be the closest thing to a queen there is if you marry me."

Who in the fade is that?

"Lord Whitley, please get your hands off me. I appreciate you supporting the Inquisiton but I don't need to be a queen. I'm the Inquisitor. Now, please leave. Before you live to regret it."

Trev didn't sound shaken at all but the implications of her words made Cullen shake with fury. Someone was touching her without her permission?

He walked forward as fast as he could, unable to keep the rage out. If that man still had his hands on her when he got there, Maker help him.

Faint torch-light lit up the scene before him. Trev was backed up against the wall and a very tall man was standing far too close to her, one of his hands on the wall beside her head and the other moving up her hip, sliding against her waist in a way that made Cullen sick.

"This is your last warning, Whitley," she hissed. "Take your hands off me or I'll do it for you."

The man's hand slid up to cover her breast and Cullen felt it consume him. The rage. He'd never felt anything like it before.

Or had he? This feeling was somehow very familiar, beyond just seeing a man laying his hand on a woman against her wishes.

No one would touch Trev against her will ever again.

Again?

Cullen was in a state of rage as well as confusion, that was the only thing holding him back. He watched as if from far away as Trev slapped Whitley's hand away.

"You bitch," the man hissed and raised his hand as if to strike her. "I'll make you beg."

Cullen's blood seethed. He stepped forward and grabbed the man from behind at his neck. The surprised yelp from the man did nothing but disgust Cullen. He threw him face first against the wall before dragging him back to him. His fist flew into the other man's face, again and again and again. He fell to the ground and Cullen followed. He straddled him and kept on hitting, gritting his teeth and snarling, ignoring his own split, bleeding knuckles. After seconds or minutes, he couldn't tell, there was nothing left of the man's face but a bloody pulp.

Cullen was breathing heavily, chest rising up and down rapidly, until a gentle hand on his shoulder snapped him out of it.

"Cullen... Are you alright?" Trev's voice was concerned but steady.

She was asking if he was alright? He looked at her and saw no anger in her face, which surprised him now that he realized what he'd done. He'd killed a noble, probably someone important since Trev didn't immediately kill him herself when he touched her. What a mess.

She took his hand and pulled him to his feet. She didn't even look at the corpse at their feet. She just gazed into his eyes.

"Why did you do that?"

Cullen answered without hesitation. "He was touching you without your permission. I... I don't know why, but I will never let someone do that to you again."

Her eyes widened a fraction but Cullen saw it. It was hope.

Suddenly, she was kissing him, not giving a fuck that his face was spattered with blood from the dead noble lying on the ground.