NSFW for the first half. hey, it's one of their final love scenes! might as well make it steamy ;)
"You've been glaring at your hand for an eternity, my love. Is it overly bothering you?"
Evelyn looks up at me from across the chess board, a frown still etched onto her face.
"It's just...really tingly," she replies. "Almost like the way it feels when I'm close to a rift, but not as pronounced."
My heart skips a beat, and my jaw immediately clenches, my fingers tightening around the black Knight in my hand.
"Do you think it could be a rift ripped open nearby?" I ask her.
She pauses for a moment and studies her mark as she deliberates that possibility.
"I don't think so," she finally says. "It would start glowing if that were the case. That's always been the way so far. No exceptions."
She tears her gaze away from her hand and rests her eyes on mine instead, her frown quickly replaced with a warm smile.
"You look far too worried for a man who is on the verge of brutally winning me in this deadly battle of chess, Commander. Have I missed something while I was distracted? Am I actually going to emerge victorious against you for once?"
I smile back at her jest, although it does not escape my notice that she is diverting my attentions away from her mark and back to the game on purpose.
"Quite the contrary, my love," I tell her, focusing my attention back on the board. "I believe this game is mine."
I claim her King with my Queen and look up at her with a smug smirk.
"Check mate."
I sit back and cross my arms against my chest, grinning at her from across the chess board.
"Blood magic," Evelyn shakes her head in bewilderment. "Blood magic is at play here. There is no other possible explanation!"
I chuckle and shake my head, regarding her with endearment. I admire her as she looks around the Chantry garden, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.
"Come here," I murmur in as seductive a manner as I can muster. She turns back to me and raises her brow before a mischievous grin plays across her lips, and she slowly stands up and slinks towards me. I extend my arms to take her in, allowing her to sit on my lap and sink into me. I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her hair, closing my eyes as I breathe in her scent before letting out a loud and prolonged sigh of contentment at our proximity.
It has been a little over a month since the ritual, and we both seem to have mentally recovered from the ordeal quite well, considering the circumstances. Evelyn has been away sealing rifts in the Hissing Wastes and has only returned yesterday, whilst I spent the better part of that time visiting the soldiers still posted in the Arbor Wilds. I suppose we have both been too preoccupied to truly allow ourselves to be overcome with grief, and I constantly thank the Maker for the strength and patience that he has afforded us both.
Evelyn absentmindedly runs her fingers through my curls, sending thrills down my spine. Even after all those months of being together, her touch never fails to have that effect on me; each is as thrilling as the first, enough to make me lose the ability to form any coherent thoughts whatsoever.
"Every time I think I have your every feature memorised, I seem to notice something new about you," she remarks, her warm brown eyes roaming over my face.
"Oh?" I smile, privately enjoying her warm breath blowing across my skin. "Such as?"
She very gently presses her index finger against an area between my left eye and cheekbone.
"Like this freckle right here," she murmurs softly. "Or is it a minuscule mole? Either way, I've never noticed it before." She leans in and plants a gentle kiss on the area.
"I didn't expect your memorisation process to be so thorough," I smile as I play with her hair, watching it catch the morning sunlight as it slips through my fingers. She smiles in return and slides her hands away from my hair to wrap them around my neck instead.
"For you, it is," she replies. "It has to be. In case...well...you know what I mean to say."
I swallow, my jaw clenching.
I do know what she means to say. Either one of our lives could end at any moment, especially when we are apart on duty. Having a memory to carry around and summon in our mind's eye in the dead of night as we lie alone in our tent or bed when we are separated... or in case we were staring death in the face... the concept may seem excessively dramatic to some, but to me, I would venture far enough to say that it is necessary. For my sanity and well being, if nothing else.
I just never presumed Evelyn would feel the same.
"What are you thinking?" she asks.
I focus my gaze on her and place both hands on either side of her head before lightly kissing her forehead.
"I am thinking about how dear you are to me," I reply in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "About how much I love you."
"You still love me even after the horror I put you through?" she asks in disbelief.
The horror meaning the ritual, of course.
"Of course I do!" I exclaim. "How could you even question that?"
She looks down and busies her hands with one of the strings on the collar of my shirt.
"It's just...what I did... I didn't think you'd truly ever be able to forgive me. And I wouldn't blame you if you couldn't."
"Evelyn. Evelyn, my darling. Look at me."
Reluctantly, her almond-shaped eyes meet mine, and I look back at them intently, desperate to convey the extent of my sincerity. I cup her beautiful face in my palms and steadily hold her there to prevent her from turning away.
"What happened with our child was the only sensible solution at the time," I tell her. "I know you. You wouldn't have even considered it had you had another viable option. It simply was not the time. I understand that completely. And while I do wish you would have spoken to me about it before arriving at your decision, that did not in anyway alter the depth of my feelings for you. Nothing ever will. I love you like I have never loved anything or anyone before, and it is vital that you believe that. Evelyn, I need you to believe it."
She merely stares back at me, wide eyed and silent.
"Evelyn," I implore her, the desperation creeping through my voice. "Tell me you believe it. I need to hear it."
She gently rests her palm against the length of my face and caresses my cheekbone with her thumb.
"I believe it," she whispers. "I always have. I don't believe I deserve it, but I believe it nonetheless."
I shake my head and take her in an embrace, holding her as close to me as possible.
"You deserve it," I whisper into her ear, a flood of emotion pulsing through me. "You deserve so much more."
Evelyn slightly pulls back from the embrace to see my face, and she cradles it with her warm palms, stroking my stubble with her thumbs.
"You know," she begins, eyes warm and tender. "If I was given the choice to go back in time and stop myself from going to the Conclave, I wouldn't do it."
"Why not?" I ask her gently.
She smiles and leans in for a soft kiss.
"Because I wouldn't have met you," she whispers, her lips brushing against mine. "Meeting you is the single most incredible thing that has ever happened to me, Cullen. I wouldn't change a single thing in the world because of it."
She takes in a shaky breath, and I am startled to see the tears brimming her eyes.
"Evelyn..."
"I'm sorry," she laughs and blinks away her tears. "It's just that..." she sniffs and wipes her eyes on her sleeve, "I love you so much."
I cradle her face in my palms and gently follow the glistening trail of tears down her cheek with my thumb. After months of following our story, my dear reader, I am sure you can accurately anticipate by now what my reaction would be:
Speechless. Entirely and utterly speechless. However, my loss of words does not impair me from expressing myself in other ways, of course. And far more expressive ways, no less.
"Let's go somewhere private," I lean in and whisper into her ear. "I need you all to myself."
"Need, Commander?" she smirks mischievously.
"Oh, make no mistake," I assure her in a breathless whisper.
Grinning, Evelyn kisses my cheek before sliding off my lap and standing up, taking my hand in hers.
"With pleasure," she purrs, and I already feel the heat beginning to pool in my nether regions. I allow her to lead me back into the main hall, and, being too late for breakfast and too early for lunch, we manage to slip into her quarters virtually undetected. She guides me to her bed, my eyes shamelessly admiring the exaggerated sway of her hips; a display that I know she is purposely putting on for my benefit.
I sit on the edge of her bed, and she steps in between my legs, her dark locks tumbling over her face and shoulders as she looks down at me with heavily-lidded eyes.
Maker's mercy...
I pull off my gloves whilst maintaining steady eye contact with her, and I toss them aside before reaching up to cradle her face in my palms. Thankfully, I had decided to keep the armour off this morning, so I needn't worry about that. I stretch my neck as I gently lower her face closer to me, licking my lips in anticipation before I kiss her. The kiss is soft and tentative at first; we hadn't been intimate since the ritual, so, as desperate as I am for her touch, I am careful to proceed with caution in case she is not prepared for this level of intimacy as of yet.
But when she sighs and clambers over me into a straddling position, I know that she is as eager for my touch as I am for hers.
I fall onto my back, our lips still united in our kiss. A deep, involuntary moan escapes my lips when I feel the solid warmth of her body against my sex, and I bring my hands down to her bottom, my fingers caressing her body on the way. I squeeze her supple flesh, pressing her against me as I start thrusting against her, the friction caused by our clothing only intensifying the maddening sensation. Her breath catches in a gasp, and she bites down on my lower lip as she trembles, her fingers entangling themselves in my curls.
"Cullen," she whispers against my lips, her ragged breath loud and hot against my skin. "Oh, Cullen."
In one swift movement that elicits yet another gasp of surprise from Evelyn, I roll us over, pinning her down against the mattress with the weight of my body. I kiss her neck greedily as she unfastens the buttons of her blouse, my tongue rolling against her hot skin along the way. As my mouth works its way down to her now bare breasts, she flings off my fur pauldrons and tugs off my shirt, where it bunches up beneath my armpits. I pull away from her and sit up, straddling her as the pair of us laugh breathlessly and struggle to pull the garment over my head. When we finally do, we both quickly remove our breeches and undergarments, tossing them aside by the foot of the bed.
I slip my hands beneath the mattress behind her and gently guide her to sit up until she secures herself by wrapping her legs around my hips. The position makes her slightly higher than me, and when I glance up from her breasts to look at her face, I quite honestly go entirely blank for a few brief moments. The ends of her tumbling dark locks tickle my shoulders, and her lips pull into a faint smile when our eyes lock.
"It should be a sin to be so handsome," she murmurs, her fingers gently running through my hair.
"It should be a sin for you to exist," I respond before closing my eyes and leaning in to kiss her chest. I pepper soft and light kisses, barely brushing my lips against her skin. She closes her eyes and throws her head back, stretching her neck and prompting me to move up to the exposed area, running my hot tongue along it from clavicle to the edge of her jaw and back down. I kiss her skin greedily, with quiet growls escaping my throat in my impassioned state. I move down to her breasts and lap at them with my tongue, suckling on her nipples until she starts trembling against me.
"Maker, it's been so long," she sighs, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
I chuckle and allow her nipple to slip from my mouth with a loud smack.
"It's only been a month," I tease. "Haven't we gone longer without?"
She snickers and traces her fingers down my torso before catching me by surprise and wrapping her right hand around my arousal.
"Shut up and make love to me already," she whispers into my ear.
Maker, the tremble that her command sent running through my body...
I bring my hand down between us and start pleasuring her with my fingers, keeping my eyes focused on her face. I watch as her eyes roll into the back of her head and her mouth opens in a sweet 'o', her every moan and whimper sending a surge of hot pressure down between my legs. My breathing picks up in tandem with hers, and I open my mouth as I involuntarily mirror her enraptured face, speeding up my fingers inside and against her.
"Maker's breath, Cullen!" she exclaims breathlessly, and she sits up further in her straddled position, placing most of her weight on her knees to give my hand more room to move. I use my free hand to bring her forehead resting against mine, determined to look her in the eyes when she finally approaches her release. She squeezes my shoulders and cries out as her entire body spasms profoundly, struggling to keep her eyes open. I attempt to prolong her rapture by pulling my hand away and forcing her to maintain some control over herself, but in a flash, she grabs my hand and holds it there against her, absolutely refusing to let me torment her any further. I chuckle and oblige, allowing the pace of her breathing and the volume of her cries to guide my speed until she gradually calms down.
"Maker," she breathes, small spasms still rocking through her body erratically.
"That was only the prelude," I smirk dangerously, brushing away the damp stray locks plastered against her sweaty forehead. Before she could utter anything in response, I push her flat against the bed, eliciting a thrilled gasp of surprise from her beneath me. Still eyeing her dangerously, I place her legs over my shoulders and lower myself over her, placing most of my weight on my palms against the mattress on either side of her.
"Are you comfortable?" I ask her.
"Yes," she whispers, her breath cool against my hot face. She gazes at me warmly, her dark eyes searching my features, before her warm lips claim my own in a kiss ravenous enough to make me growl. In one swift, yet gentle movement, I slide into her, filling her completely and groaning loudly as I relish the familiar warmth that I have been deprived of for so long.
She whispers my name as though it were a prayer, over and over again. She latches onto me, begging—pleading for me not to stop, as though I even had the power or will to do so. I torture myself intentionally to prolong our love-making, allowing her to come numerous times, but stopping and restraining myself every time I feel that I am inevitably approaching closer and closer to the edge. I feel the sweat trickling down my temples and back, and my hands are gripping the bed sheets so tightly, I am in danger of ripping them apart.
It does not take Evelyn long to realise what I am doing, so in one sudden movement that takes me by surprise, she slides her legs off my shoulders and rolls us over to straddle me instead. With her hands planted firmly on my chest, she fixes her gaze on me and starts to move, taking complete control of the rhythm and speed.
"I want you to stop holding back," she whispers, and she reaches for my hands, prying them off her hips to hold her supple breasts instead. "I want you to come for me."
Maker's mercy, I can barely nod my head.
"Wait," I somehow manage to say. "The spell. The contraceptive-"
"It's all taken care of," she assures me, speeding up her hips and moving more deliberately around me.
"Ye—yes," I barely manage to call out in a strangled groan. "Maker—yes!"
I fight not to squeeze my eyes shut and to look at her as I finally allow myself the pleasure of a long-restrained release, my cry almost a primal howl and loud enough to echo throughout her large quarters. She does not stop moving over me, and she matches her rhythm to my breathing before gradually coming to a halt.
I lie there, the sheets damp and clinging to my sweaty back, as I try to regain my breath and my senses. I moan when she slides away from me, the sound quickly replaced with a hiss and a bite of my lower lip when I feel her take me into her hot mouth, licking and sucking me clean. Her lips smack audibly when she pulls away from me, and my arms automatically reach out to her to take her in an embrace. Smiling, she obligingly crawls up and curls herself against my body, draping her right leg over my hips.
"So..." she purrs, tracing her fingers along my chest hair. "Was my finale as good as your prelude, you think?"
"Judging by both our reactions, I'd venture to say they rank equally," I grin.
"I'd agree," she smiles, her cool breath blowing gently against my neck. That sensation itself sends a shiver down my spine. Just then, Evelyn's stomach rumbles, and in the comfortable silence of her room, its volume is loud enough to make us both laugh.
"Hungry, are we?" I smile and stroke her back.
"It appears so!" she says. "Thank the Maker it's nearly lunch time. You always did tire me out so, Commander."
"What can I say?" I chuckle lightly. "I aim to please."
"And please you do, my love," she murmurs lazily. "Please, you most certainly do."
By lunch time, the discomfort caused by Evelyn's mark had escalated to a worrying degree. Throughout our meal, her jaw has been locked and her expression tense, all in an attempt to quell the pain and stop herself from showing any signs of her discomfort. She smiles politely when spoken to, and she also manages to laugh at one of Dorian's many jokes, but I know it is all a facade. I reach over to touch her thigh beneath the table, but before I manage to say anything, Morrigan swoops down the table towards us, walking with a sense of purpose and urgency that catches almost everyone's attention.
"Inquisitor," she says, her silky voice stern and grave. "May we speak in private for a moment? Solas and I have something we need to share with you."
Evelyn looks up at her and quickly nods, dabbing at her lips with a napkin. Before standing up to follow Morrigan out of the main hall, she gives my hand a gentle squeeze beneath the table, a non-verbal assurance that she is all right. I follow the pair of them with my eyes as they walk towards the door leading to the war room, not looking away even after they have disappeared through it. There is something about Morrigan's expression and tone of voice that is quite unsettling; I had never seen her in anything but a state of unwavering aloofness before now, barring the occasional hint of exasperation or anger.
"Everything all right, Curly?"
I look away from the door, my thoughts punctured by Varric's calm voice. He is watching me with friendly concern, and I offer him a weak smile of reassurance.
"Apart from that thing out there intent on killing us all?" I ask wryly. "Yes, Varric. Everything's fine."
"Glad to see you're able to crack a joke every now and then," he chuckles. "Besides, all work and no play makes the dashing Commander a very dull man."
"I appreciate your concern, Varric," I respond politely. "But I assure you, I am all right."
"Oh, you are more than 'all right', believe me," Dorian purrs from across the table. "I still harbour a profound jealousy of our dear Inquisitor for having snatched you up before I had the chance to."
The heat instantly floods to my face, and I merely blink at the young mage in response, finding myself at a complete loss of what to say.
"Hah!" Dorian's laughs out in a booming voice. "You should see the look on your face! Absolutely priceless, Commander! Oh, but I do love teasing you so. You have an magnificently endearing habit of always falling for it."
"He is a bit gullible," Alistair joins in. "Just like me, actually. Must be a Templar thing." The Grey Warden grins and winks when he catches Cullen's eye.
Maker's breath. Why am I always the centre of everyone's jokes? Why am I such-
"Commander."
I look up to see Evelyn standing by my side, her beautiful features hardened and her tone terse. I immediately stand up to join her.
"Yes, Inquisitor?" I ask her formally.
"I require your presence in the war room, please."
"Of course," I nod and excuse myself from the table before walking with her to the door she had just emerged from, glancing at her sideways to try and decipher her stoic expression. I almost take her hand in mine, intending to stop her and inquire after what was wrong, but I notice that the large wooden door leading to the war room is flung wide open, with Leliana, Josephine, Morrigan and Solas already positioned around the war table in wait. I stand aside to allow Evelyn to walk in first, before following her and shutting the door firmly behind us. We all wait in silence as Evelyn takes her place, and my throat constricts when she plants her hands on the wooden surface and leans against it, her hard eyes fixed on the map before her. After an uncomfortable stretch of silence, Leliana finally speaks.
"Did you...find what you need, Morrigan?" she asks the mage tentatively.
"I can match the darkspawn magister's dragon, yes," Morrigan responds confidently. She turns her yellow eyes towards Evelyn, who is still staring at the map, though her steely gaze makes it very evident that she is not actually studying it.
"And Corypheus himself?" I ask, fighting against the stubborn lump of fear lodged in my throat.
"I have examined the Inquisitor's mark," Solas responds from Evelyn's side. "She and I both agree that it has been unusually active as of late, despite the absence of any nearby rifts."
"And what does that mean?" Josephine asks fearfully.
"It means," Evelyn looks up, "Corypheus is growing impatient."
I stare back at her, my hands gripping the hilt of my sword forcefully.
"Then we must find him," I declare. "And put an end to this before he finds us."
"We've been looking for his base since all this began, with no success," Leliana says.
I purse my lips into a thin line and clench my jaw, turning my eyes to the war map.
"His dragon must come and go from somewhere," I say, my eyes searching the map as though looking for a hidden sign or clue.
"What about the Deep Roads?" Josephine suggests. "We could send word to Orzammar, hire envoys to-"
A flash of green light bursts through the windows, bathing us all in its unnatural yet eerily familiar shade. Simultaneously, Evelyn's mark crackles loudly, as green and bright as the countless rifts she had used it to seal thus far. We all look out, and my entire being turns numb when I see the newly opened breach in the sky, its light glowing and pulsating as vividly as it did all those months ago back in Haven.
"The mark is growing larger."
I spin around to see Solas carefully examining Evelyn's left palm, his brow furrowed and his expression stern. I try to ask him to clarify, to demand some semblance of sense of the situation, but when I open my mouth, no sound is produced. So gripped by fear I am for Evelyn's life, I feel strangled and suffocated, but I do not allow myself to let that show.
"It seems Corypheus is not content to wait any longer," Morrigan murmurs quietly, and for the first time since I have known her, I see and hear the fear evidently on her face and in her tone.
"Good," Evelyn responds calmly, looking away from her mark to fix her gaze on the breach. "Neither am I."