Incorruptible

by super ginger

Alduin is dead. Purpose and duty fulfilled.Uthreida, Dragon Born, Yesimir of the North, is ready to return, But Tsun's shout is redirected, and finds herself in a land that is similar yet so very different from her home. Commander Cullen is hopeful for the future of the Inquisition. Until an unknown Dragon Slayer falls under his Command that makes him question everything he knows.

22. Chapter 22

If you're here for that *cough cough* it's three-quarters of the way down.

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Cullens eye twitched as he looked over Royoc. Who was smiling like a stupid idiot. "Let me make sure I got this right. You took out a hundred thousand Royal loan, with our horses to act as collateral, which, by the way were donated, so you could buy, a, rare and illustrious, giant nug?"

"Quick on the draw, aren't you." Royoc tilted his head condescendingly.

Cullen threw up his hands in frustration at his lack of basic adult decision-making. Liliana pinched the bridge of her nose and Josephine threw her tablet to the ground. "Why do I bother?" The Antivan asked herself.

"You do understand that horses" Cullen waved his hand to Liliana, "can be silent. That they are a fast transport for the means of communication." Royoc rolled his eyes like he already knew more and better. "You're aware that our calvary relies on those horses. One could even argue that horses are what makes a calvary. And you traded it for beasts, whose literal colloquial is thunderers." He took a deep breath to wrap his head around the possibility of losing his horses. "And you just put a lien against them? Without consulting your advisors?"

"You advise, not control. And even then, it's questionable at best."

"Question-" Cullen but back his roaring anger in disgust at the man.

"Why can't you trust me to make the right choice? This investment could secure a future for the Inquisition. I'm trying to create a future economic opportunity for the future of the Inquisition and for the future of our men. Without land, we can't exactly sell produce or foods. As for what we can trade that isn't regulated that can produce profit and security for the soldiers and -"

Cullen snorted. "Oh, get off your pyre, we need the wood. Find a solicitor." He barked at Josephine. "We apparently need a treasurer and this glutton needs a diet. Restrict all purchases and strip him of purchasing and acquisition rights."

Josephine sighed with a mother's anger at Royoc. "I shudder to ask. What was the interest for such a loan?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes." The three demanded quickly.

"Fifteen percent."

Josephine exhaled like she was hit. "For how long?"

"Ten years. What's the issue?"

Liliana popped her neck and took a breath of death. Cullen crossed his arms to stop himself from hitting the man. In times of desperation, lands and lords could take out such a loan to seek the end of a bad harvest, but this was too much and far too expensive. He looked at Josephine. "Wha, wh" he cleared his throat trying not to imagine the entire Inquisition placed in debtors' prisons for this. "What ah-" he shook his head and tried again. "What are we looking at?"

Josephine tilted her head. "Without a table? Fifteen percent for ten years, is" she paused to do the math quickly. "That one hundred and fifty thousand in interest alone. Making the total loan two hundred and fifty thousand royals."

"Makers" he sighed. "That's a decent village's economy."

"Relax," Royoc smirked at Cullen. "It's an investment."

"For what?" He screeched. "Spymaster, Ambassador, Commander" he pointed to each of them then threw his arms wide. "We're not investors. Even then, I truly want to believe that Josie could've gotten a better rate of interest-"

"If I had known it was an option or even a thought, I could've." Josephine fumed quietly.

"How is this a-wait," he squinted at the man. "Is the loan to you, or to the Inquisition?"

"I am the Inquisition," Royoc stated with a defiant brow and crossed arms. His look of arrogance sold the story.

Josephine threw herself on the war table and Cullen huffed while Liliana sighed in disappointment. "The annual payments alone," Josephine whined. Cullen shook his head with his hands on his hips.

Royoc chuckled. "Relax, it's an Investment."

"How?" The three asked in their own way.

"It's a rare breed. We'll breed."

"You only bought the one." Cullen retorted loudly.

"Female."

"Unless nugs are asexual, rather useless without the counterpart, isn't it?" Cullen stepped away to wrap his head about being over two hundred thousand royals in debt. "Makers breath, we have horses. Just breed horses like a normal noble."

"Horses are common."

"And farmers are going to buy giant nugs to flatten fields?" Cullen screeched at him. "Just admit you made a bad decision."

Royoc sighed in annoyance at him. "The donated horses are all gelded."

"One stallion would certainly be cheaper than one giant nug."

Josephine sighed. "We'll have to reduce the prices on the dragon harvests just to make this year's payment."

Cullen threw his hands up. "Maker, the dragons cost less than this damn adventure." A small line from his years as a knight captain came back to him. Loans against the Chantry can't be more than four percent and has to go through a process. He looked at Liliana, the Divine, with some semblance of hope.

She looked at him with a sense of reading his mind and looked away with a shake of her head. Cullen sighed. "I haven't been sworn in yet, the Inquisition is still, technically, not protected by the Chantry, and further, even if I did, debts created before protection cannot be altered even by divine decree." She shook her head. "My hands are tied in this."

Josephine shook her head. "Where did you even get that much gold?"

"The Duke of Ghislain."

"Ghislain?" The three shouted.

Josephine shook her hands and had to walk to release her stress. "Ghislain? The Duke, whose sister was married to Grand Duke Gaspard, who murdered Princess Cellia and Prince Reynaud, was a lover of Lady Vivienne and seat of the Council of Heralds. A man who died recently, with you in his home. You just indebted the Inquisition to the council. Orlais. Maker, Gaspard." She shook her head and stood back. "Please, tell me the money has not been spent."

"Spent or not." Cullen rounded the war table "it goes back."

"Agreed," Liliana stated darkly. "I cannot be tied to this. Get rid of it."

"It will work." Royoc pleaded with Liliana.

"No. It won't." Liliana dropped her arms and stood before him with a low tone. "I don't know what game you think you're playing at, but I tire of walking about this." Her dead eyes looked at the other two. "Leave."

Cullen felt a shiver run up his spine at her single word. He looked at Josephine who looked at her in worry then Cullen to see what he would do. He arched a brow at the spymaster. He opened his mouth to ask if she needed anything but was pulled by his belt by Josephine out of the war room in silence.

Cullen walked down the hall in awkward silence. The long walk and feeling like he was both missing something and needed to know as Royoc screamed and shouted behind them. The long silence followed again as Josephine opened the door to her office. Cullen caught a look of awkward smile and relief on her face. "What is she doing? What are you two up to?" She lifted her hands with wide eyes and an honest and frantic look of confusion. He looked at the door quickly then at her. "Should…we stay?"

"I'm going to hide."

Cullen snapped. "Yes. Agreed."

She giggled into a hand with a curl of her shoulder. "Did you see his face?" Her hand covered her mouth as she spoke.

"I" he looked at the door with a smile. "Did not." She giggled again. "Is-is she, do you know what she's doing?"

Josephine looked at the door with a smile. "Being divine, I suppose."

Cullen grunted at the door again but shrugged. Whatever she did, he was sure he'd learn about it soon enough. "Right. So, solicitor. Do you know anyone who can account the books?"

She tilted her head in thought. "I know a few in the industry. I'll reach out."

"Thank you." He looked at the door nervously. "Let me know what happens."

She took an excited breath. "Will you be at this week's interlude? Will you stop by for tea? I can have more of those cookies made you like. You should wear your little outfit again." Cullen looked at her annoyed. "What? It makes you look dashing."

"On second thought." He turned slowly while she giggled at his exit. He spun back around as he remembered something. He looked at the Antivan with a deep breath. "I don't mean to be rude, or impose,"

"That would be quite impossible, Commander." She still had playfulness in her voice as she spoke.

Cullen rubbed his neck slowly. "How are you?" She smiled but looked confused. "And uh-" his eyes flicked to the door of the war room. "And him?"

It took her a moment to make the connection he was making. "That's right, you were in Val Royox during the-" she looked away as if thinking of the scandal. Cullen remembered watching in mild disgust and annoyance as Royoc challenged her fiancé to a duel. And she then jumped into the Inquisitor's arms in his victory. "We are fine. Thank you."

"And now with" he waved a vague hand to the door to show the previous argument.

"We're fine."

"Am I allowed to point out how quickly you answered that?" His tone was low with a brow of concern.

"No." Her smile, while fake, was just as comforting.

"Right. Are you, how are you?"

"Well, thank you. Though I am growing increasingly concerned at your new founded concern." She smiled like a viper as he grunted.

"Uthreida seems particularly protective of you. I was wondering why and now with this" he waved his hand back to the door, "and with Liliana being divine and not Vivienne, just wanted to make sure you're alright."

She tittered sweetly. "Lady Uthreida is certainly a caring woman and we are delighted to have her with us. But, fear not Commander. All is well in house Montilyet. Minus my sister with her outlandish dreams and expensive hobbies. And my brother who now wants to slay monsters even if he is an apprentice to Sir Benantitis. At least Renaldo is true to the family but he's only eleven." she looked off in the distance. "And my father has recently discovered snuff and is trying to make a market for it in Antiva. Have you heard of it?"

Cullen arched a brow. "The-" he pointed to his nose.

"Si."

"Ah. Well, while I've never had the fascination to shove grounded rashvine nettle up my nose, there's certainly a market in the Orleasian military. And scholars who need the quick pick me up. And laborers."

"Yes, but what is the purpose?"

"The scent is supposed to wake you up quickly and increase alertness."

She looked away confused but sighed. "No Templars have need of it then?" She asked with a smile. An unmistakable prod for a possible nepotism contract.

"No, we have our own potion for that." She looked confused at his dry tone. He tilted his head with a wide, obvious smile. She laughed loudly when she realized he spoke of lyrium but quickly controlled herself.

She apologized for the display but he waived it off. "How are you? How's your injury?"

"Its-"

Both turned at the sound of the war room door opening and made their escape from her office to hide. Josephine ducked into the cellars while he quickly limped to the training rings.

Xx

"You got the goods?"

Uthreida looked up to see Doran leaning over her chair in the library with a smile. She looked him over in question. "No?"

He rolled his eyes and moved to squat before her chair with a smile. "The captains here. He wants a down payment."

"Oh." She smiled as they put on a show for the agents above. "Aye, it's in your quarters. I had to get an advance on my pay, but, it's ready."

He lowered his brows and frowned dramatically. "Why, when, alright." He waved a hand, never minding his questions.

"It's in your pack." He stood slowly with an appreciative nod. Uthreida stood with him and eyed the Captain in the red jerkin. "You should take him and have a private conversation. I'll distract Royoc in case he comes looking for you."

"Thank you." Dorian waved a hand to the man in red and chatted quietly as Uthreida kept a sentry for Royoc if he showed. She leaned on the banister to read her book as Solas was painting his office, thing. Dorian led the Captain out and talked about. No one seemed to notice his movement and kept the charade of not noticing them.

She went back to her book of histories of Tevinter and the rise and fall of the Old Gods.

"You put yourself to the service of an ancient elven god."

Uthreida was pulled from the book to look down to see Solas shouting at Royoc. She looked off and Dorian wasn't back yet.

"Something existed to start the legends." The elf's loud voice still echoed in the chamber.

Hurry up Dorian.

She closed the book and watched as the elf paced in small steps as he spoke to the Inquisitor. Royoc stood taller and seemed to have a retort for each of his questions and statements further angering the elf given the rise and fall of his chest and brows. His wide arm movements, well, for the mer, as he spoke.

Uthreida felt herself smirk. Royoc was falling out of favor even with his own inner circle. The elf seemed to approve of all of his actions. So what changed?

"You're gaining minions." Solas hissed. "Sheep blindly following one false god after another." The words bounced off the stone walls. Royoc followed the hissed echo and met her eyes. Both looked up at her and she winked at them. Watching the show below her.

Solas tilted his head but kept going. His voice was lower as he spoke to the Inquisitor. But as he went, Uthreida could feel the mers anger rising. "Striking down the last few ancient elves for defending their temple."

Uthreida smiled. Getting more juicy gossip from the reports she wasn't allowed to read. Wait, ancient elves and their temple. Paladin Gelebor came to her mind's eye. A willful destruction of history in a land where wisdom is burned and forgotten.

Royoc moved and Uthreida's jaw dropped. Solas had to take a step to recover from the punch. Holding his face from the attack. Her eyes widened as she expected the elf to blast him with magic.

But he didn't.

Solas adjusted his shirt, a hissed comment she couldn't make out and walked away. Royoc snorted and walked.

To the stairway up.

Shit. She looked and saw Dorian enter from the garden with the man. She waved a hand to catch his attention but he missed it as he spoke to the Captain. She moved towards him and he looked at her but kept speaking. "He's on a Warpath. Move." She warned as she passed him.

Dorian stopped walking and she turned to see footsteps up the stones.

Too late.

Dorian took a breath and turned to the Captain. "We'll finish this later."

Royoc cocked a brow at the man as he passed. His brown eyes found Uthreida standing a shelf over. She leaned against it with a brow at him. Waiting on his next move. Royoc turned and spoke to Dorian. She opened a random book and stood closer, letting Royoc see her movements. "You have a problem?" He asked Uthreida who only smiled.

"Me?" Dorian answered for her. Apparently distracted by something. "A problem? Whatever could you possibly mean?"

"Spit it out already." The Inquisitor snapped.

Uthreida arched a brow at his tone. "As you wish." Dorian made a move she didn't see. "That man's a ship captain. I'm arranging travel back to the Imperium."

"When?" He crossed his arms as he looked the mage down.

"When this is done." Dorian moved again to get some distance. "When Corypheus is dead, or I am." Uthreida noticed a hitch in his gait as if he felt trapped in his little alcove.

Royoc eyed her as Dorian moved. "Why wait." He smiled at her. "Go now."

"And give everyone the satisfaction that no Tevinter stood against Corypheus. Tempting, but no."

Uthreida smirked at Dorian's stubborn pride. Royoc spun to look at him. "What do you mean by that?"

Dorian turned to face him as Uthreida lowered a brow at his victimized tone. "You must be joking," Dorian stated with a wave of his fingers. "Where to start. You murdered a man. In his own shop." Royoc looked at Uthreida to demand her to leave. She crossed a leg and leaned deeper into the shelf. "You could have made a deal with the elven sentinels. We could have learned from them. But no." His face contorted into disgust as he looked the Inquisitor down. "It's obvious there's no reason for me to stay." He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Corypheus is the enemy but you? Watching you spread across Thedas like a cancerous growth sickens me."

Royoc looked at her again in anger but lowered his face. His voice dropped to a soft tone just for Dorian. "What about-"

"What about it?" Dorians voice carried a rage she had never heard before from him.

She heard Royoc snort a distaste and rear back again. Her legs tightened as she prepared. The Inquisitor's punch landed on Dorian square on the chin. The hit caused him to fall back.

"Wrong move," Uthreida said low and took a breath. Royoc squared up to her but realized his mistake of giving her room. "Fos"

The Inquisitor was pushed back and fell over the banister from the lower level.

A smile spread as she ran and jumped over the railing. Royoc landed on Solas's desk seconds before she landed on him. Forcing the air from his lungs more. She mounted him quickly and punched him twice in the face as he delivered to his colleges. He held up his hands to protect himself. A green area encased her and she found she was moving slower than usual. Royocs smiled from the lower position as he held a hand to her throat. "Tiid Klo Ul."

She canceled his attack as she moved at regular speed. Pushing his arm from her and punching him in the stomach as the green glow still surrounded them. Calling her magicka, she placed the back of her hand over to her mouth. Bellowing a war cry and called minor illusion of fire. Royoc held his arms over his face to defend the magic. She laughed coldly at his cowardice. "So mighty."

The green light disappeared and he shoved her off. She let him. She stood back for him to leave. Waiting on his rebuttals as he looked at the tower as no one moved to help him. Each person leaned over the banister to watch the fight. She called fire to her hands and waited. "Go on then. Run."

His eyes lingered on the people who watched them and spun on his heel. Making his way to the west door.

She snuffed the flames as the door closed. Smiling at his embarrassment. Solas gave a single snort of laughter. Catching her attention. She smiled. "Oh no." She looked at the door. "He's going to tell the Commander on me. Guess I'm in trouble now." She walked to Solas and moved to check his jaw. Slight bruising was starting to form. She called healing and held it over his face. He stepped back. She looked him over to see him polity dismissing her magical assistance. She snuffed the magic and looked at his desk that was now in disarray. "My apologies."

"It's quite alright." His voice even as he spoke. She moved back to the desk to place the papers and books on it. "How did you do that?" She looked at him asking for specificity. "How did you overcome the fade trap?"

She shrugged quickly. "Counter Spell."

"I see." He said slowly. He bent low to assist in setting his desk back together. "And the illusionary magics?"

"Other spell." She bent over and picked up a rock that had a skull imbibed in it. And it glowed. "What's this?"

"A shard from the fade."

She lowered a brow as she looked at it closer. "What does it do?"

"How do you know illusion magic?"

She looked at the elf and met his wise old eyes. "Are we to play a game then, Solas? A question for a question?" She smiled sarcastically at him.

A smirk curled on his lips as he watched her. "If it pleases you. Who goes first?"

She placed the rock on his desk and crossed her arms. Matching his smile. "Illusion-based magic is quite common where I'm from. What's the shard do?"

"We don't know." He said lowly and circled the desk. "After the initial investigation in the Oasis, presenting a certain number gains access into chambers that provide resistance to certain elements."

"What kind of elements?"

He tilted his head. "I believe it is my turn for a question. Where are you from again?"

"Skyrim across the ocean. What kind of elements?"

He chuffed at her quick response. But blinked slowly as if in thought. "We believe from the basic elementals. Fire, spirit, and ice. How did you counter the fade trap?"

"Slowing the time around me." Solas pulled his head back at the new information as she kept going quickly before he could focus on it. "The Venatori in the Hissing Wastes were collecting shards like this. What happened when you walk the chambers in the oasis?"

He paused to consider the question. "It's difficult to say. After the initial inspection, the Inquisitor deemed the collection a waste of effort. Ergo, even we have not opened all the chambers."

"But guard the entrance."

He cocked a brow and pulled his arms behind him. "I suppose. Why haven't you successfully slain the dragon yet?"

She paused at his question as well. Knowing the rules of the game, if caught lying he will stop. And knowing she couldn't lie, made this awkward. "I was never able to deliver the killing blow in time. And in your studies, what have you discovered of the shard?"

He paused as well. His fingers gently traced the top of the desk. "It would appear that tranquil, when possed by a demon, and then slaughtered, allow for sight beyond the vail." Uthreida fingered the skull and waited on his question. But he paused. His eyes were curious as he looked at her. He looked away in thought. Uthreida lowered a brow with a smirk. He was thinking. How does he pose this question without giving away his intentions? He hummed to himself with a smile. "How did you learn magic?"

A passive question at best but still holds more answers for him if not spoken right. "My father. Why do you think the Venatori are collecting these shards?"

"Could be any number of reasons. You don't seem to have a specific discipline when it comes to magic. No particular traning."

She waited but he didn't speak. "Is that a question?"

"No. Nearly an observation. You may go again."

She licked her lip at his backhanded comment. "You enjoy the fade and its citizens. You walked in the fade. What was the nightmare demon's name?"

His eyes shifted too quickly for him. A flash of something before he looked away. "I don't believe it was mentioned."

"Come now, all great spirits have a name. And seeing how it's your second home, you must have heard of it before. Who was it?"

He smiled slowly. "How is it you gather the souls of dragons?"

"Divine blessings." She stated quickly to counter his misdirection. "Who is she?"

"What makes you so certain it was female?"

"What makes you certain she is not? Name."

He tilted his head slightly. "It went by the name of Nightmare, for that's what it was." Uthreida clicked her tongue. He was technically accurate. "How is it you don't pull magic from the fade?"

"Why do you think magic comes from the fade?"

"Where else would it come from?"

"Perhaps we should ask your Creators. Do they still listen?"

"Once in a while. That would imply you believe magic comes from the gods?"

"Magicka comes the creation of the gods creations. Why would you believe something else?"

"Historically speaking, theological theories would suggest you are correct. How do you collect the souls of dragons again?"

"What is it to you?"

"Call me intrigued."

"Call me blessed."

He smiled at the retort. "Where is your home?"

"Across the ocean. For a man who has yet to publish a paper on the fade or the inaccuracies of the dalish legends, that you seem to enjoy correcting, why are you so willing to lend your expertise to a group who would and will steal your theories?"

His quick retorts were severed as he smiled truly at the Nord with a chuffed laugh. "As you may have surmised, I'm an apostate."

"And? There is a writer on the other side of that door with access to publishers and a pen name. What's stopping you from sharing what you know to help the people you've turned your back on?"

He snorted a laugh. "I have not abandoned them."

"You aren't leading them either." His smile held a cunning that she arched an amused brow at. "Or are you?"

He looked away slowly. "Why have you failed to kill the dragon?"

She smiled. Leaning across the desks at him. "For the same reason you collect all this information, and, seemingly, do nothing with it."

He matched her smile with a lick of his lip. "It's not nothing." He said softer.

She smiled. He is hiding something. "Does the word Thalmor mean anything to you?"

"No. Should it?"

She leaned back and stood taller. "Perhaps it's safer that way." She met his eyes and smiled. "How old are you?"

He chuckled. "I am forty-five summers. Yourself?"

She stopped their slow circle and smiled. "You're lying."

He matched her smile and stride. "I certainly am not."

"I've met mer over two hundred years old and your eyes carry as much wisdom. So let's try this, what year were you birthed?"

A mischievous brow quirked as he watched her. "Two hundred years?"

"Answer the question, Solas." She smiled wider as she knew she was onto something. He was evading. And she pressed forward towards him.

"How is it they live beyond the life span of humans?"

"Answer me, Solas."

He stepped forward to her. "I believe your lying, dragon slayer."

Her smile matched his and realized the game was over. She wondered how he could be forty-five but refused the date of his birth. She dropped her eyes and turned when she caught the glint of the shard and skull in the light. Resistance to three elementals.

The three thu'ums.

Her eyes widened as she looked at it. Holding her breath until she figured out how it all fit. The chambers give resistance to fire, ice and electricity. The three thu'ums. The Venatori are collecting these to enter the chambers. If they have the resistance, they would be resistant to dragon attacks.

The west door slammed open and she didn't turned to see.

Resistant to dragon attacks means-

"Did you beat the Inquisitor?" She looked up as Cullen rolled towards her with fisted hands at his sides.

She smiled in excitement. "I figured it out."

Cullen rolled his eyes. "Did you?" His tone was laced with malice as he crossed his arms.

"Ha? Aye. Look." She held the shard for him and beamed. "The Venatori in the Hissing Wastes were after these, aye? And-"

"Just to confirm, you confess to assaulting Inquisitor Royoc?" Cullen made a pointed gesture at her that she waved off.

"Aye, aye. So, they were after these because the chambers in" she paused and leaned towards Solas. "What's that place called?"

"Solasen." The elf said with a smirk.

"Aye. So," Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. "Having these unlocks-"

"Shall we talk and walk?" Cullen stated quickly to interrupt.

"Aye sure." She spun to a door but stopped. "Where are we going?" He lifted a hand to turn the north door. He walked past her and she moved to catch up. "Aye, so, using the shards in the temple thing in the oasis allows the user to receive resistance to the elemental magic, right?" He grunted as they passed the main hall. "So, the Venatori are after these to gain access for that resistance but aren't entering the chamber, temple, thing, either? Have your reports shown them entering or just trying to take outposts in the area?"

He turned to the main courtyard. "They trying to take out camps."

"But not entering, aye? The temple? That would mean they are collecting shards for a specific person. Someone to be resistant to the dragon's attacks. That's why they aren't attacking the lairs. Their waiting for…someone. Something to enter and use the shards to weaken the dragons so they can eat the red lyrium." She gave a grandiose kind of jump and raised her hands of victory as they ambled down the steps in the courtyard.

Cullen sighed. "So, who or what are they waiting on?"

She cupped her chin as he kept walking. "I believe the reports from the mages mentioned a vassal. But I don't know what that means. Dragon tamer maybe? But even then, who would do that for Corypheus?"

"Wonder of wonders." He held a door open for her to follow.

She cupped her chin again as she went down the stairs. "It just isn't making much sense. Who would they wait on to show up and how do they know if they have enough shards to complete? And further, your people know nothing of the language so how could they possibly tame or even ally."

"I'm sure you're not the first to question." His tone bored as they descended the stairs.

"But it makes sense, right? Collecting the shards and having a resistance to elemental magic would be reason to investigate and look into. If the goal is dragons, and with enough resistance, should cancel most of the effects of the dragon's spells." Cullen held another door open for her. "Now we just need to figure out who they wanted to be the dragon tamer and we should-" the sound of a metal door closed behind her made her look about. She turned and saw Cullen behind metal bars. She looked around and realized she was the one in a cell. "What the shit?" She demanded from him.

"You confessed to beating the Inquisitor." Cullen roared back.

A laugh from a cell over made both of them look. "Rutherford."

"Shove it, Sampson." Cullen ran a hand through his hair. "You assaulted the Inquisitor in the Inquisition stronghold. What did you think was going to happen?"

She crossed her arms and looked at him. "Open the door." Her tone low as her hip jutted to show her power over him.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

He growled and stepped to the bars. "I said-"

She grabbed him by the straps of his armor and banged him against the bars. "Release me."

Sampson laughed again. "Louder, girl. I think it's working."

Cullen shoved her hands off and took a step back. "Cool down. Do you have any idea the precarious situation you have created?"

"He beat Solas and Dorian just for questioning his orders."

"And you, what, decided to get involved by burning him?" his voice rising in justice.

"He's not burnt. Scared, but not burnt."

"You threatened fire."

"Fake fire."

"That's not the point." Sampson laughed again. "Silence. You will remain here overnight." Uthreida scoffed and he shook his head. His eyes cut to the other cell then hers.

"Feim Zii Gron" Cullen watched her with wide eyes as she stepped through her locked cell. Feeling the metal pass her form and stood before him. She rolled her shoulders to end the thu'um. "I don't like being locked up."

"Neat trick."

Uthreida turned to the voice and saw a dark-haired man with resented eyes watching her. Sitting on the floor of his cell. Wearing a red gambeson and trousers. Cullen pulled her arm but she waved him off. "Sampson, I presume."

He gave a nonchalant shrug. "You are?"

"Inquisition dragon slayer."

Cullen pulled her arm again. "Don't interact with him." His low warning was more of an order.

Sampson smiled. "Dragon slayer, eh? Corypheus wants a conversation."

She smiled. "So do I."

He scoffed. "I'm sure he'll be eager to hear it."

"Why does Corypheus want dragons?"

He only smiled and leaned back on the wall. "How'd you do that?"

"Do not speak to her." He grabbed her by the arm and opened the cell to shove her back in. "And you,"

She got away from his grip and stood before the red lyrium general. "Why haven't they taken the dragons yet?"

"Uth-slayer. Get back in your cell."

Sampson smiled. "Better do as he says, mage."

Uthreida looked at Cullen then Sampson. She stood in the cell and waited for Cullen to shut the door so she could break out again. "Who or what is the vessel?" Cullen kept the door open while glaring at her.

"The vessel?" Sampson chuckled. "It was supposed to be me."

"What was the purpose?" Her eyes were on Cullen as she had the conversation without his consent.

Sampson chuckled again in his cell. "Well-"

"Enough." He reached for Uthreida again and ripped her out of the cell.

Uthreida broke from his grasp and stood before the General. "You're the vessel? You were supposed to be the dragon tamer?" He arched a confused brow at her. "You were supposed to enter the oasis to gain the resistance to the dragon's magics. Then use it to subdue them until Corypheus could taint and control them."

He licked his teeth slowly and sniffed. He smiled politely with a condensing nod. "Bit more complicated but-"

"Do you know what this means?" She grabbed Cullen by the arm who was glowering at the red Templar. She released his arms and started dancing. "I was right." She sang, shaking her hips and holding her hands above her head. "I fucking told you so. I was right." She sang to her own tempo and kept dancing. "I was right." Cullen's look of anger shifted to her. He knocked her knee to make her buckle and remind her to be humble.

"I like this one." Sampson smiled.

"Shut up." Cullen grabbed her by the arm again. "I will not leave you here to speak to such filth."

"Ouch, Rutherford." Sampson stood and leaned against the bars. "Still delicate with the mages I see."

"Be quiet." He seethed at the general.

Sampson looked at Uthreia with a dark smile. "I knew Cullen when he transferred to Kirckwall after the circle of Ferelden fell. Jumped at his own shadow." Cullen hit the cell with a fist to get him to back up and stop talking. The general only smiled more. "What's the matter, Knight Captain, shadows a bit darker these days?"

Cullen snarled at him and turned. Grabbing Uthreida by the arm and forcing her out of the cells.

"I still have questions."

"And I'm out of patience."

"How did he taint her?" She called from the stairs as Cullen kept pushing her.

He pushed her up the stairs and back into the courtyard. In open-air, he took several breaths to center himself. His anger turned to her. She took a step back. "What was-" he looked around them to gauge his tone. "What in the Makers name was that?"

"I was trying to get information."

"From him? Have you lost your mind?" He rubbed his temples. "How did you-" he saw the people around them and sighed. Watching her with anger as they crossed the yard. "How did you do that?" She looked at him confused. He waved his arms to show her moving through the bars without actually saying it.

"Spirit form Thu'um."

He looked at her as they walked. "What?"

"It allows me to pass through sold object with no damage."

"Didn't think to bring that up?"

"You knew a cell wouldn't hold me."

"Because you're a thief and adept at picking locks."

"First, I'm a master lock pick, thank you very much. Second, more than one way to climb a mountain."

"Makers-" he sighed as they climbed the stairs to the battlements. "What am I supposed to do with you now?"

"Let me go?" She suggested with a shrug.

His angered scowl didn't abate. "I can't very well have you wonder the hold when the Inquisitor requires your incarceration." She grunted at the travesty. "You need to lay low until he leaves."

"No, I need to guard Dorian who he will retaliate on-"

"Out of the question."

Uthreida stood before him to block his path. "In case it's not obvious by now, you cannot contain me. Further, you're still limping. I can outrun you."

Cullen blinked slowly. A smirk crossed his face as he stepped forward. "You need to hide for at least two days and not be seen."

"Fine. Let me go on a hunt."

"Oh, no no no. Somewhere you can be watched."

"Aye. Send me to the Avvar. How is Conant, by the way? Is everything alright with them?"

He laughed in his chest. "Report to my quarters."

She scoffed. "Fuck you if you think that's-"

"Later. But right now I need you to listen."

She opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut. Did he just say that? She looked over his form and saw he wasn't lying. She took a step back and felt the heat in her chest grow tighter at the prospect as excitement filled her core. "Go on."

He had to look away to hide his smile. "Look. You are to be hidden for a few days. Royoc is leaving in two days to look for something and you can't be seen. Right?"

"Fine. I'll take Ragnar down to the -"

"Utha, listen. Blood mage" he pointed at her, "thrall." He pointed to himself. "Just hide somewhere until this blows over, alright?"

She crossed her arms and considered the implications she now faced. "Fine. But I'm hiding in my quarters."

"Fine."

"Until he leaves."

"So be it. Just take someone who can watch over you before Liliana does. Dorian if you want. Have a slumber party. I don't care. And for the love of all things holy, stop publicly shaming the Inquisitor before he starts getting ideas."

"He needed humbling. Besides, you know he won't do anything."

He turned down the corner of his lips in annoyance with a grunt. "Yet, Utha. Yet." He shook his head with a sigh. "Do me a favor, from now on, warn me in the mornings if you intend to start a revolution. Between the conversations of that ridiculousness of your hair contraption last night-"

"It was wash day and-"

"As it is," he smiled with a hand to stop her interruptions, "a warning would be preferred." He turned and huffed into the office. Shutting the door behind him.

Uthreida looked at the rotunda and a humph. She needed a way to get Doran without being seen.

Xx

Cullen rubbed his thigh and took a seat in the garden. It's been well over a month and the damn thing was still bothering him from time to time. His thumb unconsciously missed the new scar on his leg as he soothed the muscles. Walking when he could helped, but there were times he wanted to find a cane to assist. But here in the hold, he didn't want to show the injury still bothered him. He looked up at the balcony of the rooms above him. Wondering if Uthreida was actually hiding and making good on her word. She has one more day before Royoc leaves for his…ancient power source…thing.

"Commander."

He looked up at the older voice to see Mother Giselle approaching. "Morning Mother."

"What brings you to the garden?"

"I just finished my morning prayers." He jutted his chin at the chapel with a smile.

She gave a patient smile at him. "Your injury is still affecting you, I see."

Cullen waved off the concern. "Bit stiff but otherwise healing well. Thank you."

"Have the healers seen it?"

"Weekly check-ins. They say it's fine."

"Then why do you look troubled?"

Cullen looked at the older woman's canted head and the extended tilt of her hat. He slapped on a fake smile and looked away. "We're at war, Mother Giselle."

"Ah." She moved to sit beside him. "And you fear for the men's lives."

"Yes." He rubbed his thigh and felt the muscles tense more as he lied.

He felt her eyes on him and dared a look. Her older brown eyes took him in, seeing something. "Your fear for your men is but a surface concern. There is something deeper in your heart."

Cullen smirked at her. "Is this to be a confession, Mother?"

She gave beloved smile to his joke. "Many of the Templars come for their monthly confessions as part of their training. An unconscious act. But I've never seen you confess since I have been here. I'm concerned if something heavier weighs your heart more than just your men."

Cullen sighed. She was right. Even though he didn't mind the monthly confessionals and often felt freer after, between the lyrium, training and maneuvers, he was afraid of what a mother or sister would say if he spoke or spoke too much. He looked at her and Mother Giselle only sat patiently. He decided to humor her. Maybe she can garner some wisdom. "I find myself questioning the future. A lot more than usual. I know it's in the Maker's path. I know it is his will. I know my faith will carry me, but" he sighed. "I question the world we are building. How do we rebuild relations with the citizens and the Templars and the mages? How do we rebuild the circles knowing the events like Kirckwall and the conclave happened? And now that we are in a position to shape and mold, how do we make our world more pleasing to the Makers' design?"

Mother Giselle laughed softly into her hand. Not in ridicule, but like a mother laughing a the innocents of a child. "Commander. You know the Makers will. 'Fear not, shield maiden, for I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future.'" She smiled as he stated the scripture with her. "The Maker knows our path. We are not alone for he walks with us even in the shadows and in the light. I understand you want to know how it ends, how it shows what we've accomplished, what you have accomplished, has been for the greater good. But that is not how faith works. It is with the understanding that your faith will light the path the Maker has set for you and you alone. That your path is but a tributary that leads to the river that leads to the ocean. That all things before has been to prepare you for the now and the future in his patience and prosperity."

Cullen sighed. "I know, Mother." His tone was hollow as he spoke.

"You wish to see it faster?"

"I suppose." He sighed, his thigh still aching. "I just don't see how it could possibly work. The Nevarran Accords were created with good intentions and see how that worked out? 'For all who love the Maker, all things work for the good.' If that's the case, what does the future hold?"

Giselle smiled at him. "So many times the spirit of men have undone the spirit of the goals. The Maker's teachings seem to fall short when trying to figure out practicality. You wish to see the nation's laws reformed but not how the peoples have been reformed by this war?" She patted his arm gently. "All we can do is follow our own souls and fulfill our purpose the best we can."

Cullen arched a brow at her. "Rather the point, isn't it? The Inquisition stands to change everything the Chantry did. Should we not try to mold it into something better?"

Giselle bit her lips and with a sigh. "I cannot answer that, Commander."

"Why?"

She gave a heavy sigh. "You and I, several of us, have been used the Chantry long enough to see the need for reformation. But others do not see the need. And are content with what they have. With what they need. 'Fear not troubling news, my followers. For our hearts are formed as we trust in the fathers love." Cullen sighed at yet another quote of blind faith. "What will be will be, Commander, for he has ordained."

He sighed again. "I suppose." He added dismissively.

"Forcing fate does little to foster faith, Commander." She stood slowly from his side. "One may not look far to find the Maker's wisdom. His love is in all of our hearts if we have but the ear to listen to his guiding words. For the Maker gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control." She gave a single nod. "If it is hope for the future you seek Commander, one has but to look up to see the face of the Maker."

Giselle turned but don't move. Cullen followed her gaze and saw Uthreida sneaking along the ramparts. He smirked at the woman but let it go. "What are you getting at, Mother?"

She turned slowly to face him with a patient smile. "Some spend their anniversary reinstating their vows, Commander. That hope you desire. That change you want to see, will not happen in your lifetime as the building of the Chantry was not in Andrastes. Perhaps you should spend your time building the hope and happiness you seek." She gave a nod and stepped off.

Cullen gave a nod and let her go. Looking at the bricks in thought. Even Uthreida had stated that if he ran or forced a different fate, it would only trap him tired. That freedom, when fated, is an illusion. He looked to the sky in wonder. Letting the two philosophies form. An image of whale bones came to him. A wheel of change. From the destruction of the old, new orders will rise from the ashes. Stronger than the former with more wisdom from the past. Cullen held a hand over his heart to the coin at his chest. The Inquisition will succeed because something new will replace the order they have destroyed. And in that creation, they must remain truer to the spirit of the Maker or be crushed by the wheel of destruction again.

He took a breath. Still freighted where he fit but blessed that no matter the choices, it will lead to the right path eventually.

His eyes flicked to Uthreida as she snuck her way past the mage's tower. What is she getting into? He smirked at the idea. Building a bond he can hold in his life. Waking next to her. Her laugh and wit. The late-night imaginings of their home. Three rooms, three children, one hearth alter. A garden. No dragons. No wars. No Templars or mages. Just peace and a true sense of home. Watching her grow old with grey hairs. Her wrinkled hands still over his. Forever. Consistency. He smiled as she ducked into the tavern. A heat filled his core at the idea as his heart beat faster.

Followed by a sinking rock in his gut from fear. Maker's breath, he loves her. He blinked slowly at the realization. But with each blink, he didn't care. He didn't care who knew or who spoke. He loved her. He wanted her. To be beside her until the end.

He smiled at the thought. This is not how he saw his life going fifteen years ago. Three years ago. One year ago. And yet, here he is. Fallen desperate and madly for a woman who could destroy as much as save the world. His world.

"Oh, Maker, if you do walk beside me, drag me from the path if this is a mistake. Please."

Xxx

"And the poor Soldier rounds the corner and tilts his head at the general and just goes, 'is this the asshole who can't figure out how gates work?'" Cullen covered his laugh at Sir Michale's story. "And me and chevalier Louis share an awkward look as the general's face goes red at this soldier and starts yelling at him. Meanwhile, I'm standing there trying to figure out who to help while Louis is slowly shutting the door to his office to get some distance." Michale laughed at the memory. "Louis stood there for a long moment and listened to the generals yelling at this poor recruit and Louis just shrugs and goes 'n'interrompez jamais votre ennemi lorsqu'il fait une erreur.' Cullen arched a brow at the Orlesian phrase. "Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake."

Cullen chuckled again at the story. "Yes, well. Discipline and situational awareness will be learned one way or another."

"Oui."

Cullen looked at the chevalier with a smile. "Certainly that's not all of it. There has to be more?"

"Oh, oui. Jenatemes errors were renowned for boosting morale." Cullen shook his head. "Once, he entered a room full of Colonels and addressed one as Captain to which Colonel Goustave informed him there were no captains in the room."

Cullen's nose scrunched as he laughed in his chest. "I'll have to remember that next time."

Michael shrugged. The east door opened and both turned to see Uthreida in her usual gambeson, woolen trousers, and boots. She looked at both with a smile. "You two seem to be in a good mood."

Cullen stood from his lean against his desk at her entrance. "Just swapping stories. This is Sir Michale de Chevin. A chevalier and guard of Empress Celine." Uthreida look of delight morphed into disgust as she looked at him.

Michale smiled. "Former Chevalier."

Her smile warmly returned. "Blessings." She said quickly with a hand extended.

Michale took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "You are Fereldan, I assume."

"No."

Cullen chuckled at the history none of them had time for. "He's been brought in to aid the Soldiers in training." She gave an approving smile at him. "Sir Michale, this is Uthreida Storm-Blade. Our resident dragon slayer."

"C'est un plaisir de rencontrer votre connaissance." He said with a deep bow to her. "How lucky the Inquisition is to have dragon slaying team with them."

"Just me."

Michale's brows dropped into confusion. "How do you mean?"

"It's just me." She said as if it answered all of his questions.

Michale looked down at her with an intake of a question but unsure of how to ask. Cullen cleared his throat before the Orlesian could ask anything. "Is there something you needed?"

"Aye, I was wondering if I may speak to you for a few moments." Her false smile made him arch a brow.

Cullen noticed the awkward look from Sir Michale that questioned their relationship of station and position. "Of course. Excuse me." Cullen waved a hand to the south doors and let Uthreida lead.

He shut the door behind them and walked with her to the southern battlements. "Ready to go back into hiding?" She grunted. "Royoc is to return today. And we don't know what he intends to do." She side-eyed in annoyance but didn't say anything. "Stop punching the Inquisitor."

"Fine." She growled.

She nodded slowly as she came to the southernmost corner. Cullen noticed a serious expression on her face that seemed laced in worry. "What's going on?"

She turned on him in a flash. Her lips pressed to his in a desperate kiss. Standing on her toes to be closer and clutching at his furs. It took Cullen a moment to realize what was happening and why she was so affectionate in public. He kissed her slowly, wondering where this was coming from.

She pulled back with a pained expression. Her hands clutched his furs and dipped her head to his chest. "Don't go to Josephine's office next Thursdas." Cullen tilted his head confused. "No, you should." She held her hands before her to make a point to herself. "You should. You need to be there. It needs to happen." Her breath shook as she mumbled to herself. Taking a quick inventory of their surroundings, no one should've seen and kept some privacy to themselves. She licked her lips and popped her knuckles. "Next Thursdas, you are to meet with Lady Josephine and her contacts for a meeting…of sorts."

Cullen pulled his lips back in disgusts. "Yes, well, you see, uh, this thing just came up. Thursday? Eh, all booked. Sorry, can't-"

"Valok, please. It's important." She smiled quickly at him but he could tell it was fake. "Please wear a decent outfit."

He lowered his brows at her. "Why?"

"So you look presentable."

"To whom?"

She bit her lips and looked over the mountains. She gave a heavy sigh before meeting his eyes. "Lady Josephine has requested, and you will do as she asks."

"Why?"

"Because she is sweet and kind and strong. If she was any sweeter, honey would pale in comparison."

He sighed at her deflection. "Not what I meant." He looked down at her and she averted her gaze. "Uthreida, what's going on? Why is this important?"

She rubbed her neck but didn't meet his eyes. "The small party is an opportunity for you to" she sighed and deflated. "meet your new wife."

Cullen looked at her like he had been punched in the stomach. He could feel his jaw hang open at her in dismay. But she kept her eyes adverted, not seeing his confusion or pain. "What's wrong with my old one?" Rage filling him.

She licked her lips slowly keeping her eyes anywhere but him. "That's very kind of you but I won't always be here and- "he turned away and she changed strategy. "She has lands, men, ships, trade. She's Andrastian and quiet and beautiful. Submissive." He shook his head, trying to control and understand where the rage and feeling of abandonment were coming from. "Cullen, don't turn a blind eye because-"

"What's the point?" He raged in a spin at her. "We've spent, what, eleven months, wow, really? For what? When did we get married? The point is, all of this. For what? Why? So you can get a clean break with a clean conscience? As if it's that simple. As if you're not that petty. That vindictive. This vindictive? So you can waste my time? Were we- did - are we wasting our time? Is this a waste to you? A joke? I-" he growled turning away from her. Not ready to hear her response. Not ready for this to be over. Truly over. Now when he was so close to…something. He turned back with a shout-ready and snapped his jaw shut. A quick breath as he looked over her. Waiting, with an arrogant annoyance for him to finish. "Why? Where is this even coming from? In Honnleath, you said- I thought." He ran a hand in his hair. "I thought we were past this." If she couldn't see, if she couldn't understand, "Fine. You know what? Fine. Fine. What time."

She opened her mouth to argue but pulled back. Looking over him. She held herself taller and arched a brow. "I understand that a life change like this can be difficult-"

"Difficult?" he snapped, "You're difficult. I've had to learn to put up with it and now you, you're just going to-"

"Cullen, see to reason."

"Oh, I'll give them something to see." He waived a wide hand to the office of the ambassador with a snarl on his nose.

She rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. "Never mind."

"Oh no no no. You've gone too far now. When-"

"I will not have you make an ass of yourself before her just so you can vindicate-"

"You wanted this, you got it. What time is this audacious tea party?"

"I'll handle it. Without you. Or your theatrics." Her tone was just as scathing as his. Refusing to look at him even now.

"Do I not get a say?"

"No, Cullen. Because you're marrying up. You get no say when she chooses to marry down. You will grit your teeth-" He growled and turned only to see the door of his office where Sir Michale was still and turned back to face her like a caged animal. "You have nothing to your name. You-"

"I have" he bit it back. Finding it harder and harder to keep his heart silent before her. His heart leaped out of his chest but his mind pushed it back down.

"You have nothing Cullen."

"And don't I know it." His growling glair turned back to her. "Whereas you have so many possibilities. With crowns nonetheless."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't act coy now. Like I don't know I'm some stand-in until you go back to Denerim. How dare I even believe that I should or could walk amongst you and yours."

"What does that even mean?" She scoffed as if offended. "The king doesn't even want me. He's just using me, the rumor, to keep the crown chasers at bay. And don't you dare give me that holier than thou, tripe. Like I'm not aware that I'm some minor distraction for you as well. A dalliance in a stressful war." Cullen rolled his eyes. She snorted at him. "You are in a position to move up and take care of your family."

"They're fine."

"They won't always be fine, Cullen. How do you not see that I'm trying to help you? To help you move in such a way that-"

"Oh, you think this is help? You think will help me?"

"Aye. It's a natural progression from Commander to General. Her family has influence that could further the influence of the Inquisition. And further your own desires." he threw up his hand and turned away. What would she possibly know of his desires? "Cullen, if you would just-"

"Look at me." He roared. She closed her eye and turned from him. Hiding her face more as her jaw clenched. She didn't want this either. "I thought we were past this. I was serious in Honnleath. Were you?"

She swallowed and took a step back. "After. Adult reconsideration-"

"Don't you dare feed me that slop."

"I thought they forgot, alright?" She snapped. Finally meeting his eyes. "Like I did. I forgot that was an actual ploy they had. And they, they asked me to decide and-" she looked away with angered eyes again as her throat sealed. A deep, focused breath that he had learned as she fought her emotions. "Forced to nod while screaming on the inside. Forced to agree to which would be the best choice for you and for the future of the Inquisition." She growled but shrugged. "But they're right." She masked the sniffle with a wipe of her nose. "I have nothing to offer you. And the Inquisition-" she scoffed with a snarling smile. "As a mage, I can't put you in a better position here but, that fucking child, can?"

"Child?"

"She's seventeen."

"Makers breath. Are you serious?"

"She's…malleable." She said with disgust.

A sickening look crossed his lips as he looked at her. "Utha, that is illeg-"

"She turns legal next month."

"Still. No, we're getting off track." He snorted to resume his anger. "Did you choose that child?"

"It was her or a woman well past her bearing age. I won't even discuss the third option. Like you ever had one."

Cullen rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What time?" He asked lowly. Thinking of entering Josephine's soiree and lifting Uthreida on a desk and taking her before the group to end all these motions and cement their understanding that she was his. His wife. "What time is this little tea party that will decide my future without my consent."

"If you will play nice, speak to her, you will see-"

"I'm not about to bend knee to some, child, I don't even know. You don't even want this."

"He states as if I'm not already well aware." She shook her head at herself. "I can't lift you up, Cullen. All the people see is a mage. Your people's standings segregate you to them because of your connection to me and-"

"I don't care."

"You are a general. You are high ranking. You should care about other people's perceptions."

"I don't."

She rolled her eyes. "You are so-"

"What? Stubborn?" He knelt down to her level.

"Childish."

"More than you?"

She glared at him with a ticked jaw. She snorted. "If you would talk to her, without making a scene-"

"I don't want another wife. And if our time together has proved anything, not now, not ever."

She gave her own roar of frustration. "Why are you angered by this? We both knew it would come down to this. One year, Cullen and it's-"her jaw clenching again. Taking a step from him.

Cullen sighed deeply and stepped closer to calm her. "We still have time." He held a hand to hold her.

"We're out of time." She stated quickly to make her point and backing up. Keeping her distance and anger. "And yet, you're acting like a child. All of these dramatics and for what? Sometimes sacrifices have to be-"

"I am so sick and tired of that phrase. Why? Why can't I have one thing? One thing that I want without sacrifice. One thing that is owed. The one thing I actually want?"

She scoffed and held her arms wide in a fight. "And what would that be?"

He turned to look at her. The anger held back his tongue as he glowered. She watched him with the same snarl on her nose. His patience snapped and he was done hiding. He stepped into her space and pushed her back against the brick. He placed a hand to her throat so she would shut up and listen for once. "Mine." He seethed lowly. Her fighting to get him off ceased as she looked at him. Her eyes searched his. "I am yours as much as you are mine. I hold too many of your secrets for you to release me. And you hold too much of me so I can't just walk away."

Uthreida's eyes moved over his slower. Her stern chin and snarl slowly relaxed. Her look of a fight melted slowly into understanding and confusion. Her lips parted, trying to understand what he didn't say. Her breathing from a fight was deeper in her chest. Leaning away from him as she relaxed from her fighting stance from him. His heart beat faster in his chest. He released her throat slowly. She heard him. Silence fell between the two. He found himself standing taller. Watching her as she looked away. Fear tricked down his spine at her next rejection. A slow, blushing smile took over her features. Lowering her head to hide her face from him.

Cullen took a deep breath to rid his anger as he watched her. Seeing her smile, her acceptance, all fear was lifted from his shoulders. A question if she would have him on his tongue. He stepped closer as she looked at him.

Committed and proud. Swathed in a shawl of family and perseverance. Afraid to lose in a world of death. Wanting your life of happiness over painful hope. This hurt her too.

"You should go." Her voice was soft. Almost lost in the winds of the mountains.

"I won't."

A soft single laugh escaped her chest. "I'll, ah, cancel the meeting." Her eyes shone in something new he wasn't expecting.

All sense of fighting left him as he looked down at her. Smiling at her understanding. "Thank you."

She stepped closer. Looking up at him with a tilted head. "What are you doing tonight?"

Something in her voice, a mischievous shift of her eyes, the slow way she bit her lower lip, made his brain pause, his stomach clench, in the invitation. Having an idea of what she was getting to. "What do you - do you want to do…tonight?" He mimicked her soft tone to make sure he understood what was being asked.

There was a promise in her eyes that made him hold his breath. She smiled, her eyes cutting to his lips, her fingers caressing the cloth of his cloak as if inspecting something. Her eyes met his in a slow, lusted blink that he almost missed. And stepped away from him.

Cullen released his breath. Watching her sashay away from him. His eyes went to her hips and ass as she walked to the stairway down. A look over her shoulder and a sly smirk. A smile spread over his face and heart. Maker. Was she serious?

Xxx

"Did you find what you were looking for, Inquisitor?" Liliana asked with a softness in her voice.

"I did." Royoc beamed as he looked at her. "I have the means to match his dragon."

Cullen smirked. Knowing what he meant. "All that remains is to find Corypheus before he comes to us."

"We've been looking for a base with no success." Liliana gently reminded him.

Cullen turned to her with a breath. "His dragon must come and go from somewhere."

"It's a shame we have no way to verify that." She arched a brow at him with a sharp tongue.

"At any rate," Royoc looked at Cullen with a smirk, "I have what I need. Have the men withhold food from Sampson until he speaks. If he doesn't, douse him in cold water until he does. I want to know where Corypheus is holed up."

Cullen lowered his brows. Indignation rising in his stomach. "That's torture. I won't order my men to do that."

"No sense in getting upset over nothing, Commander. After all, I wasn't speaking to you." His tone clipped as he looked at Liliana. Cullen followed his gaze and shot a warning look at Liliana. Great. Now he has to sit with Sampson tonight. "Where's Josie?"

"Indisposed," Liliana said with a kind smirk.

"I see." Royoc matched her false smile and turned. "See that it's done."

She gave a bow as he turned and left. Liliana stacked her reports slowly as the door closed.

"You're not seriously going to-"

"Enough Commander." She snapped. "You have bigger things to worry about."

"Such as?"

She canted a hip with a look of annoyance. "Did you not see?"

"See…"

The spymaster had to take a long breath to calm herself. "You need to interact with people more. The way he looked at you as he spoke of his dragon. His little smile." She tilted a head and looked at Cullen. Cullen only lowered a brow. She looked away with a deep breath. "There is no hope for you. Look, if you don't want Sampson tortured, I suggest you put someone to work." She looked at him with wide eyes and blinked quickly.

Cullen blinked slowly at her movements.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Where is your mind today?" Thinking of Uthreida under him. A nipple in his mouth, a hand in his hair, a moan in his ear, and the scent of thistle and holly berries forcing a memory for the rest of his life. "Royoc is intending to let Uthreida kill Corypheus's dragon and will call his own to kill her after exhausted from killing the arch demon. How did you miss that?" Her hand pointed to where Royoc was just standing. She shook her head in annoyance. "If you don't want Sampson tortured. I would suggest you arrange a meeting with Uthreida in five days with Sampson to get the answers we need."

Cullen's expression changed as he glared at her. "We talked about this. That is exactly why she never came forward. Further,"

"Where's the scroll?"

Cullen sighed at her interruption. Making it obvious she had little to no care of Uthreida's mental state or ethics. "Funny you should mention that." Cullen grabbed his stack of reports and made a hasty exit for the door.

He left for the confines of his office. He shook the threat from his mind and breathed in the scent of his office. The warm wood, the books, and the slight moss from the age of the stones. Allowing the anxiety and thrill of his plans for the night to resurface. His mind only saw her soft flesh over him again. The excitement of hearing her moan again. Her lusted eyes only for him. A smile just for him. His heart palpitated out of rhythm.

He wanted her. He wanted her in every sense of the desire. Excitement and anxiety and thrill and fear and anticipation and trepidation filled him. The encroaching of the sun's fall only made him think harder of what she wanted and what would be approved and how he could show her just how much he loved her and wanted her to stay. To make real their passive dreams of home and land and family and fulfillment and happiness.

He clenched his jaw. Opening the drawer of his desk. Spending the last of his royals for a simple ring from Bonnie Simms. No longer caring if people knew. If they talked. Knowing the ring wasn't as beautiful as the one her former lover gave. Knowing it was nothing compared to what the King could offer. Knowing he was nothing compared. But…he wanted to try. To keep her to himself. To take his shot and pray and hope and Maker, catch him if he fails. Please, stand with him now. Give him courage. He paced the floor trying not to give in to the fear. Pulling on his jerkin and trying to look perfectly fine to the guards and passing Soldiers. Asking the kitchen staff for two meals for his even meal. Watching Naan look confused, but seeing his stress, smiled. Cullen looked at the flowers that lay on the trays. Red and white roses from the garden and a wink from the old cook.

The east door opened and he stopped mid-pace. Uthreida had changed her outfit from earlier. Her black gambeson and woolen trousers were replaced with a laced-up back red brocade jerkin and black leggings. A thin white, flowing tunic covered her arms as her hair was pulled back in a messy bun. She met his eyes and smiled. Her makeup looks more natural. He had to force his eyes away to hide his smile. Maker, how does she get more beautiful each time he sees her? "There you are."

She smiled wider. "Expecting me?" Her cheeky smile at him as she shut the door.

He met her tease. "Yes" messed up. "I mean, no."

She looked him over. "Should I leave and come back later?" She hiked a thumb to the door. He crossed his arms to show annoyance but still smiled. She lifted a basket in her hands. "I brought food." He lifted a hand to the table where the tray was at. She gave a depreciating smile. "I brought scotch." She held up the bottle from the basket for him hoping to recover.

"Oh, thank the Maker." He added dryly. He waved a hand to the sitting area for her to sit. His heart was still in his throat as he moved with her.

She stood before the table, snapping her fingers to the candle to light it. Cullen saw the flame before he pull of magicka. She sat on the floor before the short table as he sat on the couch. "Are we going to" she bowed her head, keeping an eye on him.

"If you don't mind." He held his hands out for her to take. She leaned forward and took his hands. His heart jumped again and he took a deep breath to keep his patience. Ignoring the fact his thumbs instinctually rubbed against her knuckles. He bowed his head to pray. "All Maker, grant us this our daily bread. May we be nourished as we are nourished in your everlasting light and love. May we find peace and tranquility in our labors knowing it is of nourishing love as the love went into the making. May your glory be the salt of our meal. Amen." He released her hands quickly to gain control of his heart again.

"Salt of our meal?" He looked up to see her confused. "Sounds…salty."

He took the bottle of wine and pulled the cork. "All the more reason to drink." He poured the glasses of wine and corked the bottle.

As he poked his food, he found his appetite leave him. Thinking of plans and purchases and her. His eyes cut to his desk as he looked over her as she ate the stuffed gourd. He arched a brow as she lifted a slice of the gourd to eat. She paused at his expression. Cullen used his knife to cut the gourd away to reveal the cereal and kidney based loaf on the inside. She slowly lowered her fork and followed his instructions as she pulled the rind of the small gourd back and ate.

"How was your day?"

He smirked at the small talk. "I'll admit, being pulled away at random was probably the highlight." She smiled at his humor. "So, what was all of that about?" She shoveled food in her mouth to avoid speaking. Cullen set his fork down and looked at her patiently.

She lowered her eyes and poked the gourd. "What is this?"

"Squash. Now be honest."

She looked annoyed. "I already told you."

"Utha, come on."

She dramatically sighed. "I just wanted you to be happy and taken care of." She shrugged it off like it meant nothing.

He lowered his eyes and smiled. "That's very sweet of you."

"Oh, don't take that tone with me."

"What tone?"

"The one dripping with condescending."

He leaned forward to catch her eyes. "It's adorable, Uthreida." His tone now reflects what she assumed. Her expression dropped to malice as he canted his head and smiled in superiority. She looked away as a child and chewed in silence. He leaned back with a smirk. "My apologies. How dare I accuse you of emotions."

"Thank you."

He rolled his eyes at her. Enjoying the teasing and banter for what it was. He ate in silence as she took smaller bites as the conversations were halted.

"Not that I wish to discuss Inquisition matters this evening." She arched a knowing brow and took another bite and his random introduction of the topic. "A request has been made that I'd like to run by you."

She chewed slower with a question. She flapped her hands like wings and then held up her hands to her mouth to show fire. Cullen smirked as he realized she was pantomiming dragons. "No. Ah, so, as you know, Sampson is in the cells below the keep. Liliana has requested you have a conversation with him."

She tilted her head slowly, chewing her concerns. Her eyes darted in thought. "The general?" She asked sipping her wine.

"Yes."

"And Liliana suggested?"

It was his turn to look confused. "Yes."

She sat the cup down slowly in thought. "What does Sthun say?"

"Does it matter?"

She made a wide-eyed expression like it should. "A conversation?"

He took in her form. She's planning something. "Yes."

She nodded slowly. "Done."

Cullen squinted at her. She complied too quickly. "What are you going to discuss?"

"Well, he's locked a cell, so it's not like we can talk about the weather."

He popped his jaw and took a breath of patience. "Not what I meant." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You understand the implied tasking, yes?"

"Aye."

"And?"

"No." She took another bite and watched him.

Cullen had to put the fork down so he could wipe his face to avoid yelling. "You understand that by…talking to him, you could end this war by figuring out where Corypheus is."

"Oh, I'm aware." She said pointedly as she moved the gourd around the plate. "You understand that a high-ranking prisoner who will garner a heavy ransom is worth more alive. Untouched." He looked at her in anger only to see her arrogance. "Feed him hope so you may feast on his treachery. As is in keeping with the teachings of Sthun. You can't very well negotiate his release if you don't know where Corypheus is."

Cullen jutted his jaw at her. Through clenched teeth, "I will fall on my own blade before he walks out of this hold a free man."

"And you wonder why he does not talk."

"Second, I'm not suggesting slavery."

"Then why keep him as a prisoner? Are you not expecting the Red Templars to storm the Hold to release him?"

"No. We-"

"So he is no true danger to the Inquisition then?"

"Stop twisting the facts of-"

"If he is no danger, holds no command now, and has no sway over Corypheus, why let him live to begin with? Has he made any indication to have the information to which you seek?"

"He is a general who-"

"A general who is now realizing that Corypheus will abandon him when it is convenient for his master?" Cullen bit back the snarl of her questions. Sampson is either waiting on something that should have happened in the transport to Skyhold, or is losing hope in his leader but not quite lost the heart. "Why bring this to me?"

Cullen jutted his chin but looked away quickly. "It's…a grey area."

"Eat." She said lowly. "You look hungry."

He scoffed at her backhanded order. "This conversation is not over."

She only looked up at him with a noted expression and chewed slowly. Showing she was done even if he wasn't. He snorted and pushed the food around the gourd. A thick silence befell the two that she didn't seem to notice. Cullen lowered a brow and looked at her. She sat up straight. Her movements were direct and reserved. She was on guard. Not as animated or relaxed as usual. He exhaled. Forcing his shoulders to relax and let the argument go so she could feel safe.

She looked at him and saw her emotionless mask. He watched her watch him. Seconds passed as they gauged the other. She smiled and leaned forward. Whispering, "Can I eat the…squash, did you say?"

He smiled at her naivety. "Yes."

"Is it any good?" She poked it with her fork and a tone of caution.

"I'm not a fan, but others are."

She nodded and poked at the gourd again. Her fork held a decent square of the vegetable and ate. Cullen watched as she tried to figure out the taste or texture of the food. He smiled as her face contorted into a grimace and forced herself to swallow. She met his eyes and saw his smile. She grinned painfully, pushing the remaining vegetable away from her.

He placed his fork on the plate and followed her gesture. He watched as she bowed her head and sat silent for a moment. He remembered that she prayed after the meal. Out of the same respect she showed, he bowed his head as well as she gave a silent prayer. His stomach was in knots as a whale, like on the shield, passed his eyes. His stomach tightened and his skin flushed as the whale swam away from him. Feeling the disappointment from the beast. It sang, and he felt like it called to him. Guiding him.

Uthreida clapped twice and he opened his eyes. Not sure where that came from or why. He looked up to see her smiling. He cleared his throat quickly. "So," he leaned back to give an air of confidence as he had no idea what was going on or what was to come, "what did you want to do tonight?"

She beamed as she leaned forward. "I was wondering if you would teach me Wicked Grace and Diamond Back, and in exchange, I'll teach you River Raid and Spite."

He chuckled in his chest. "You want to learn card games?"

"Well," she paused to look him over. "Varric already taught me. I want to learn how you play."

"Why?"

An evil smile crossed her face. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. "Because I want to play with you, Cullen." The way she looked at him, articulated his name, made his stomach clench and heat flash on his neck in desire. He looked away to fight the smile on his lips. He shot a look at her and she only grinned. If her shirt was cut any lower he'd see down it.

A dirty thought crossed his mind as he moved to sit on the floor with her. Setting the plates aside, he smiled. "You're aware that Wicked Grace requires lying?"

"Aye."

"Deal me in." She smiled as she reached into the basket and pulled out the deck of cards and the bottle of scotch. He watched her as he shuffled the cards. "What are we playing for?"

"Fun?"

"No, I mean" he sighed as she started to deal. "Bragging rights then?"

She smiled as she looked at her cards "Unless you wish to relive your humility of losing at cards all over again."

Cullen looked at her from over his hand to see her smiling in victory as she discarded a card. "I'd like to see you humiliated."

She paused with a smile on her lips. She lowered her hand and placed them face down. Looking at him with a curious smile. "How do you mean by that?"

He gave a nonchalant shrug. "To see you lose everything and then run the battlements."

"What are you suggesting, Commander?" Her tone husked as she spoke. His eyes were drawn to her form. "Eight out of fifteen?" Her thumb caressed the shoulder of her low-cut jerkin.

It took all of his discipline to not draw his eyes lower. He placed his cards face down and leaned into her. "I assume you're referring to an article of clothing to indicate a loss?"

She looked him over coyly. "Need it be the battlements, or do you just wish to see me winded?"

A heatwave flared over his face at the mental image she conjured. He templed his hands to hide his smile. A sense of pride filled him when she didn't run or correct herself. She leaned forward again, crossing her arms on the table. Making an obvious display of her breasts that made him smile. "It's interesting. You know the prey is yours and yet, you still want the hunt."

He looked her over and realized that he was excited by the pursuit. By her teasing. The social requirement of delayed gratification. His smile grew as did his heart. "The prey is more compliant when it's exhausted. After all, no Nord worth their salt refuses an honorable challenge."

He watched her smile grow. Knowing he went straight for her ego. "Name your victory price. Within reason, hunter."

"One prayer to the Maker."

"Kynes" she growled in exhaustion as he laughed. "No."

He looked her over with a smile. He ran his thumb over his lower lip in thought. "Name your price."

She smiled. "You know my price."

"Yes but, it seems rather cheap." She tilted her head at his phrase. "If we truly are hunting, as you suggest, skinning is part of the ritual. A cheap victory. And skinning the animal whilst alive is inhumane." Her eyes dropped to his chest as he spoke. Watching his lips even from across the table. He was winning. "Name your price."

Her smile grew as she looked at him. Her eyes shifted in thought. She slapped the table with a grin and stood quickly. He watched her walk to the bookshelves and picked a few. He watched her with a tilted head as she stood on her tiptoes to reach a book. Enjoying the view.

She returned with a knowing smile. Laying three books on the table with a smile. "The loser must read aloud. With feeling."

He arched a brow at her dramatic orders. He flipped open a book and read the titles. "Secret Sonnets of the Flowers." He arched a brow at her and her evil closed-lipped smile. "For all the things I cannot say." He flipped open the third book simply titled love poems. He licked his lips and felt the embarrassment she offered. He ran a hand over his mouth and looked at her. Maker, how the dragon does bite. He loved the idea of seeing her reading some of this trite, but the sheer terror of his loss made him pause. He nodded slowly, wanting the victory more than the loss. He licked his lips as he looked at the books again. "Deal."

She winked and looked at her cards. "Call."

Cullen blinked and laughed as he realized their single hands resulted in horrible readings of poems from one another. Her contorted face at the cadence of it and realized that some of the pentameters were missed on her. Feeling heat, excitement, contentment in the others company. A fuller feeling as her foot would drag over his leg under the table and reciprocate the action. Seeing her smile from behind her cards at his intimate actions and laughing as he would try to be in the moment of the poems. Barely listening when she explained the rules of her game. At some point sitting on the couch to dissect poems like battlefield tactics together. Laughing at the tedious authors and their noble characters.

"Do the next one."

Cullen turned the page as he recovered from a laugh. Uthreida was curled up next to him with her head on his shoulder. Her hand was on his chest. And his heart soothed. He cleared his throat and started the dramatic readings.

"Come, my love, let us prove

While we may, the sports of love;" he waggled a brow at her and she scoffed at the poems barely veiled wordplay.

"Time will not be ours forever;

He at length our good will sever.

Spend not then his gifts in vain.

Suns that set may rise again;

But if once we lose this light,

'Tis with us perpetual night." Cullen slowed his reading. Taking in the words and the scent of her thistle.

"Why should we defer our joys?

Fame and rumor are but toys

Cannot we delude the eyes

Of a few poor household spies,

Or his easier ears beguile,

So removed by our wile?" He breathed her scent deeper. Feeling the impending days tick from him. How much time did they have left?

"'Tis no sin love's fruit to steal

But the sweet theft to reveal.

To be taken, to be seen,

These have crimes accounted been."

Uthreida's hand tightened over his heart. Her silence in understanding just as obvious as his own. Both read the page. Each transcribing in their own way. Both knew the meaning with no reason to speak out loud. Seeing similarities in their own life. Her marriage to her land, his oaths to the Maker and Inquisition. The fear of people learning that they were falling. Their places and perceptions. The desire crushed by expectations.

He kissed her temple and turned the page in silence. She lifted her face to him. Her lips on his in a gentle understanding. He dropped the book with a clatter to the floor and held her hair. Desperate to keep her with him. Near him. Deeper kisses, heavier breaths, heated skin. Wondering hands and beating hearts. Desperation reopened wounds as her kisses of acceptance healed them shut. The wondrous delight of his gut flexing at her touch and the fullness of his heart. Ripping of ribbon and pulling of his shirt. Maker. Lost in the feel of her body against his and the taste of scotch and smell of thistle. Her tongue teasing the gold cap over his tooth. A smile on his lips.

Her small laugh pulled him from euphoria. Realizing he was over her, biting her chest through her shirt. That he was between her legs, grinding against her. Heat flashed over his stomach and face and he looked away. She gently touched his face to look at her. Her hair pulled from the bun. A few stray clumps of red curls circled her face. Her swollen lips smiled as she looked at him. Her thumb traced the new scar on his cheek. Her eyes blacked in lust and only saw him. He forgot to breathe at such a sight. He looked away and licked his lips. Clearing his throat to speak, but not sure what to say. His eyes drifted to the loft. She followed his eyes and bit her lip in excitement. But when he looked at her, he saw a question. Given previous encounters, he could imagine what she wanted to ask. He kissed her palm gently. He leaned low. Kissing her slower. Showing he wanted to try.

She pushed against his shoulders gently. Cullen leaned back and realized she was trying to stand. He let her up. She walked to the basket and pulled out a small vial and looked at him. When Cullen didn't move, she held out a hand for him to take. Cullen stood slowly, taking her advance, and walked to her.

She led the way. Climbing the ladder. And like a lost pup without a mind, Cullen followed.

In his room, Uthreida had removed what was left of her jerkin. Looking over her shoulder, removed her belt. Cullen stood fascinated as she pulled her trousers down. Shimmying the tight fabric over her thighs and off. Making a line of her discarded clothes and socks as she walked to her side of the bed. In nothing but her smalls and a flowing shirt. She watched him as she pulled the covers back.

Cullen's brain clicked and he pulled his jerkin and undershirt over his head. Watching him from under the covers as he removed his own trousers nervously. Feeling the early autumn wind in the loft and crawled into the bed with her. His heart pumped harder than necessary as he moved closer. Her hand went back over his heart to make a question. He held her hand, kissing her deeper than before. Wanting her and only her. His hands, no longer restricted by cloth, was able to take in the warm softness of her skin. The pricks of scars. The fullness of her flesh. Her thighs rubbed against his bare skin. The heat from under the blankets was making him sweat but dared not part from her. His heart was full and his mind was empty as he was fully engulfed in her. Her moans of his thigh against her sensitive area almost undid him.

The memory of Warden Micha's embarrassing and unsolicited lecture came back to him and he smirked. He rolled her on her back and let his hand trail low. Dragging his fingers over her skin so as not to surprise her. Going over her smalls, and touched her. Her legs feel open to him. A sharp intake of air as she kissed him and their tongues danced. She moaned softly and he went for her neck. Trailing his fingers pulling the knots of her smalls at her hips. Gently laying it aside and felt her shiver. He took her lips, his hand moving to her apex. Waiting for her to deny him. She gripped his hair, her nails massaging his scalp. She was wet. Soaking in his hand. He smiled in pride as his heart swelled again. For him. Because of him. Maker. She wanted him. Jagged edges and all.

He followed her slit and circled her pearl. Listening to her throated moans around his kisses. He moved lower, pulling her shirt down, and took her breasts. Her breathing and moans were his only guide. Her hips bucked. He followed the velvet folds and inserted a single finger into her. Taking a nipple into his mouth as his tongue swirled. Her back arched. Her heavy breaths sounded like a chorus in his ears. For him. Because of him. Maker.

His fingers followed the interior pelvic bone as Micha had suggested and found what she described. Rubbing the area. Her hand tightened in his hair as she clutched at the sheets. A high-pitched sound escaped her. He pulled back, worried he had hurt her. She bit at his throat and he groaned in delight at the twitch of his cock. Her lips moved to his scar then his lips. She rolled her hips to get his attention again. He smiled and complied. Giving her what she wanted. He used a second finger, penetrating her deeper. She threw her head back, clutching at any skin, hair, or cloth she could grab to keep her sanity.

He moved with her, following the whims of her body and her prayers to Dibella. Throwing a leg over his hips and holding the other up to her shoulder to give him deeper access to her warmth. Cullen found himself entranced by her. How she seized at the feel of his teeth and the soft moan of his ministrations.

"Cullen." Her voice was a shattering of her dominance. Thick in lust but held a small reserve of frustration. She reached a hand behind him to fist some of his hair as she looked at him, "Like everything else in life, when it starts to get a wee bit tighter, you need to work a wee bit harder." Her eyes widened at him telling him what to do next.

Cullen could only smirk as he realized he was teasing her and not allowing her to reach her climax. And she was getting close. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Was I teasing? It must be so frustrating." Cullen kissed her shoulder with a smirk on his lips. "What" he cleared his throat, "Sorry." He blushed but never moved his hand away from her intimacy.

She removed her hand from his hair and guided him back to her opening. Her hips pushed back into him and slight vocalizing in her breath hitched. She rolled her hips into his hand telling him she wanted more. She pressed the heel of his hand into her pelvic bone. Cullen sat up on an elbow to get the leverage he needed to. Her hand went to his hair. The other pulled his hand to her mouth. His eyes widened as she sucked his fingers that were covered in her essence. Feeling the heat of her and the caress of her tongue send a heated wave throughout his body and a shock to his groin. Her hand slid down his arm, catching his eyes as it descended lower to herself. Showing him what she liked, how she moved, and how to make her moan his name. She turned her head from his hands, licking his fingers with extra saliva.

Cullen took the cue and replaced her hand, trying to copy what she did by circling her clit before entering her with two fingers.

Her hand clutched the sheets as she brought his head down to her. Her tongue found his ear as she licked, sucked, and bit his ear lobe. Maker, her breath in his ear drove him on faster. He moved his hand up and down like she wanted and heard her moan. She threw her head back and moaned weakly in his arms. Her eyes glazed with a smile. A deep red blush covered her face. Her hand fisted in his hair. His whispered name on her rolling tongue made his breath hitch as he went faster. Her hand fisted his hair tighter. "Don't stop" her weak plea into his lips drove him. Feeling her tighten around his fingers. Her lips passively found his. Her tongue tasted without thought. She moaned again, her breathing becoming erratic as she bucked her hips against his hand.

He knew she was close. And he was doing this. The sense of pride filled him as she moaned again. "Maker, you're beautiful." He bent over her to take a breast in his mouth as he kept going.

"Right there." Her body went taught against him. She bit into his shoulder to stifle her moan. Wetness filled his hand as her pussy clamped down around his fingers. She threw her head back as her nails raked down his spine. She was pulsating around his fingers. She gulped air when she was able to breathe again. Her breathless moans made him smile. He looked down at her, her eyes glazed and a euphoric smile curled at her lips. Maker, she's beautiful. And he loves her.

She opened one eye to see him and hid her eyes as she threw an arm over her eyes. Her smile was more pronounced. Her hand still clutched his hair at the back of his head.

He slowly pulled his hand from her, watching her bite her lip at the missing of him. He tasted her on his hands. Maker, she tasted of earth and rosemary. Of steel and sage. He delighted in the taste of her. Licking his hands clean and looked at her.

She was watching him with a canted head and lusted eyes. She gently removed her leg from over him and rolled away.

Cullen bit back a growl and refused to let her get away.

He wrapped his arms over her shoulder and rolled her so she was on her stomach. He bit the crook of her neck and she moaned into the mattress. Cullen felt all the blood in his body rush to where her rear was placed against his growing member. Cullen sat up, removing his painful smalls. Uthreida lifted her rear to keep him on her and his breath hitched. She wanted this too. She wanted him. A smile returned in his heart at the idea. He pumped himself a few times to be ready for her. He touched her back. Seeing the scars of battle and the soft flesh of her. His fingers trailed down her spine.

She sat up. Her back flushed with him. His hands held to her waist to keep her, as he kissed her neck and spine. She moved and Cullen watched in fascination as the thin shirt left her body. She stood before him naked but out of sight.

His hands found the planes and hills of her body by memory alone. He kissed her neck again. She still wanted him. She still wanted this.

Thank the maker.

His hands found her breasts and rolled them into an appreciative squeeze. Her pert nipples passed over each finger. Filling his hands, and his heart. She allowed his worship of her body. She moved her rear teasingly against him making him smile. He moved his hand to her chin to make her look at him. He wanted her lips. Her poisonous lips.

She took his hand in his and melded her back to his front.

And rolled.

Cullen was wrapped in her legs and rolled with her. He landed on his back on the bed and laughed at her continuous methods of denial. She sat over him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck and laughing with him.

She kissed his neck and he gave his own appreciative moan as her tongue pressed against his jugular. She moved lower and kissed his crook, her teeth grazing. His eyes slid shut at the feel of her.

She moved lower, moving his necklace with the symbol of Andraste aside to kiss his heart. She moved to kiss the curving scar along the same pec. His hands found her hair and he looked down at her. Her gentle lips as they trailed lower on his body. Her tongue laved at the deep hollow between his second and third abs and he pulled her back. Knowing what she was doing and where she was going. Both entranced and frightened of her next actions.

It's a sin.

He knew it.

The seed of the Maker couldn't be wasted.

He scooted up to make distance but only realized that he brought his dick closer to her face. She gave a vicarious smile at him and moved her hands.

Cullen caught her by the wrist to stop her. "Wait, it's-this is-" he looked away from her knowing he would have to confess the sin of manual stimulation for her but this is-

"Hold this." He looked at her as she took his hand to hold her hair off her neck.

Cullen held her hair absently but looked at her, his tip meeting the end of her nose as she smiled at him. "This is- Utha, this isn't natural. We, as married, can't-"

"Tell me to stop." Her soft voice and hot breath against his engorged member. A clenched of his stomach. His hand tightened in her hair and sheets causing him to stop talking and take it in the pleasure of the moment. His head was thrown back as her hand moved to cup his balls. "By Mara and Dibella, sex is a sacrament of marriage." She whispered, her wet lips caressing his shaft as her other hand started to pump. "It is the union." She moved to his tip was poised at her lips moving it so it ran along her lower lip. "There is no sin in the pleasure or healing of others." She took the tip of him into her mouth and sucked the head, her tongue licking the slit and making him breath heaver. His hand tightened in her hair. "Give yourself to love, and your sins will be a washed." She took him deeper into her mouth, her tongue flicking the sensitive spot below the head as her hand pumped him.

He married a pagan, under heathen law. Fuck it, he'll confess later.

He watched her lips take more of him into her. A thumb circled the base of his shaft while her other hand caressed his balls wickedly. He bit his lip to fight the urge to moan. He looked down at her, her eyes on him as she bobbed lower, taking all of him into her mouth. The tip hit the back of her throat. And she moaned.

The vibrations ran down his shaft and he tightened his hand in her hair. "Maker"

She sucked hard as she came up for air, a smile on the corner of her lips as her hand encircled him again. Her mouth focused on the head as her twisting hand and circling thumb worked the moved from his tip and ran her tongue from the base to the tip, watching him, and pulled him in to the hilt.

His eyes rolled back as he held her head to him, his hips bucked involuntarily. She made a sound as if in pain and he was ready to apologize when she did it again, rubbing his tip against the base of her throat. His head rolled at her heat and texture as her tongue moved to lick his balls.

He had to remove his hand from her, afraid he would slam into her again. But as she came up, she moaned again and sent shivers throughout him.

Her hand came up to gently stroke his chest. Reaching for his heart. He held her face until she plunged back down. His hand went back to the sheets. His other hand held her hair, guiding her. Trying in vain to keep his hips still. Trying not to give guttural moans from his chest. Trying to keep his eyes on hers only to see her smile and try harder.

"Maker." His voice was breathless as she pumped him. Her hands seemed to know exactly what to do and her tongue knew exactly how to get his reactions she wanted.

Her other thumb circled just under his balls in a spot he didn't even know was sensitive. He bucked his hips at her ministrations. The heat of her mouth moved to take in his testicles one at a time, laving each until she took both into her mouth. Her tongue dancing under them as her mouth pulsated in tightness. Her hand stroked his shaft as her thumb would circle the tip.

His breathless moan shuddered him as he bucked to meet her hand.

She took all of him again and she moaned. Her hand moved to rub his thigh. His senses were in overdrive as he lazily rocked his hips into her mouth.

He gripped her hair, guiding her to the speed he needed to finish. Maker, he was so close. He looked down at her to see her lips circle his head as her hand came up to pump his faster. Tighter. She met his eyes and smiled as her tongue flicked the head. "m'eudail I-" his voice strained as he felt the coil as his breath shortened.

"Valok." She said breathlessly. She pumped him faster as her hand kept hitting the head. "Let me taste."

He held her tighter. One of her fingers pressed that spot under his balls and his hips bucked again.

"Utha-" he groaned, feeling the impending climax as his body shook. Her lips wrapped around him, sucking him harder as her hand kept pumping. Driving.

He threw his head back and saw the white flash across his eyes as he released his seed. His hips bucked deeper into her mouth quickly in involuntary. He looked down at her and realized how tightly he was holding her hair. He released it slowly and saw her look up to see him. She opened her mouth and let him see his seed on her tongue. He watched as her throat bobbed as she swallowed it.

He was breathing harder but only felt his heartbeat at her vulgar display.

Maker, he loves her.

That was the best orgasm he's had in a very long time. He smirked at the thought that his wife had several talents that he wanted to explore.

He cupped her cheek to bring her to him. Without a thought, he moved to kiss her. Tasting himself on her tongue. His body was exhausted as their kiss was less feverish than before. Each kiss felt like a promise of something he didn't know he was making.

She rested her forehead in his. Each breathing and panting like before.

As Cullen came down from his high, he realized how wet her ministrations were and how cold the room was. He moved and pulled the blankets over them. Promising to pray tomorrow as he held her closer to him. His eye caught the vial on the nightstand. "What's in the vile?"

She followed his eyes. Uthreida rolled away, arching her back and smiling like a cat. "Spermicide." Cullen arched a brow at her. A proud smile spread across his face. She looked away embarrassed. "I may have gotten greedy."

He laughed at her humility and pulled her closer. He held one of her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Holding it over his heart as he controlled his breathing. His hand dropped to her stomach. Her womb. His mind eyes filled with visions of her heavy with child. His child. "I think you'd be a great mother."

"You think so?" She chuckled. "Slaying dragons isn't exactly a place for a child."

"Maybe not, but all the same."

She cupped his cheek with a longing smile on her face. Her thumb traced the scar. "You would be a tyrant of a father."

"I beg your pardon." She laughed at his playful anger. "Now see here." He pulled her closer so his face in her chest. Her laughter shook the bed. He kissed and bit at her throat she bowed into him. He nuzzled her chest and breathed. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know. 'That's a shield in your hand, block with it' or 'I have eighteen years of military experience where you do not. But I'll call on you when we face bandits. Slayer, that red stuff oozing out of them, is that good or bad, I can't remember.'"

Cullen smiled in humility as she recalled conversations when they first met. "And you'll, what, give in to every demand the babes' muster?"

"Probably." She chuckled as she held him tighter to her chest. And holding.

Cullen held her shoulder to him. He was having some difficulty breathing but she wasn't letting go. "What are you doing?"

"Suffocating you."

He arched a brow with a smile. With each of her breasts on the side of his face. "This is a preferable way to die. However," he rolled, pulling her with him. She gave a squeal of delight as he moved both of them. Applying leverage, he was able to break free of her hold. He laid above her and smiled at her. She smiled turned softer as she held his face. He dipped his head to feel more of her on him. Closing his eyes and enjoying the comfort of her hands. He wanted to say it to make this real. But didn't want this dream to slip from his fingers. The knife-edge of desperate hope and painful security. To marry him. For real. In the chapel by the Mother not three hundred meters from them. He took a breath of courage and looked at her.

But something was off. Her eyes were sad. Looking at him. He moved to kiss the palm of her hand. "What's wrong?"

But her eyes dropped as if in shame. She gave a slight chortle. "No sense in hiding now." She thought out loud. She met his eyes and he knew those were the eyes he wanted to awaken to every day. "I don't want her to take you." Her eyes were forlorn. She ran a finger over the scars across his chest and shoulder. Avoiding his eyes. Playing with the dangling chain like a cat.

He cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Who?"

"Mara." She said softly.

Cullen chuckled. "You know Mara loves all her children."

"I spurned her in my youth." Her look turned concerned as she looked at him. "I've lost everyone I've ever loved. I- I don't want-"

But he only smiled kindly. "The gods don't hold grudges. You know that."

She quirked a brow with a frown. "How do you know that?"

Cullen took a breath to explain and stopped. How did he know that?

Uthreida chuckled at him. "Thank you, Sthun." She moved so she rolled him onto his back so she was laying above him on the bed.

Cullen took a breath but smiled. His fingers found her ear and held the lobe between his fingers. "If you are blessed by Akatosh, and I'm blessed by Stenddaar, Mara has no grounds to kill me." He wrapped a finger in a lock of her hair. "Whatever you fear, it won't happen with me."

Her hand went to his heart with the same solemn look as before. "Valok, I-" she clenched her jaw. "I don't want to see you die. I can't" she bit her lip and turned away. "I can't keep my oath."

Cullen lowered a brow. Unsure of what she was talking about. "Which oath?"

She looked away ashamed. "Our oath." She bit her lip and he knew.

"Our suicide pact."

"I can't watch her take you using my hand. I- I won't."

Cullen held her face in his hands and turned her to look at him. His heart wrenched as he looked at her torn eyes. Her hand clutching his. "Nor can I." He took her hand and kissed her wrist. He brought it to his heart in her method of making an oath of truth. "Forgive me." He brought her closer, resting their foreheads against one another's. "I can't kill my wife."

She brought his head to her chest, her lips pulled down in sorrow. "I can't kill you, Yuvon Valok. Forgive me. I won't kill my husband."

And just like that, their oath was severed. He leaned into her and took her lips. It was soft, chaste, and his heart was pumping from the trepidation again. Her hand clutched his chest and he pulled away to see her eyes of affirmation.

He smiled as he looked at her. His wife. Only. Not his sworn death. Not his arch-nemesis. His wife, just kissed him. He leaned forward. Breathing deeply of her scent of thistle and home.

Marry me. The words were on the tip of his tongue as he held her face. The fear seemed to drain from his chest as he looked at her. His home. His wife. Laid bare before him. He took a courageous breath, and-

A loud crash pulled them away and both turned to see what it was. "Makers breath. What now?" Cullen groaned and noticed the room was filled with an eerie green glow.

Uthreida was the first to dismount from the bed nude as she looked out the window. Cullen followed and stood behind her.

No.

Maker no, not again.

The breach. It's reopened. How?

Corypheus. He reopened the breach. And judging from the distance and location, he's back in Haven.

He felt his blood run cold as he looked at the torn sky.

Uthreida looked at him with confusion. She didn't have to speak to know what she asked. "It's the breach. It's back. Corypheus reopened it."

"What does that mean?"

He looked down at her, bare in his quarters and her taste still on his tongue. He wrapped an arm around her waist. "Corypheus is calling us. His final battle." He buried his face in her hair. Knowing her contract, knowing her words, knowing the deranged false gods methods, her final battle.

He was going to lose her. She was going to leave. He just lost his wife after he just got her.

She tore her eyes away from the breach and saw the same thing he did. She looked at him. A look of concern and worry etched her features. "Cullen?"

"I lov-"

"Commander" a voice echoed from downstairs as the door swung open. "The breach-"

"I see it." He hollered down the ladder. "Awaken the keep. Inform the Inquisitor. Fortify the hold."

"Yes sir." The door swing open again and Cullen looked at his wife.

She looked at him with determination, her shoulders squared and her fingers laced with his. "We march."

Xx

Cullen arched an annoyed brow at the sister as she prayed over the troops.

"Maker, guide us and watch over the souls of these brave soldiers. In the name of Andraste, we ask that they be kept, held of your love of light. I pray they live to see the glory of their favor. I also pray, in the name of Andraste, to guide their swords to honor and glory. I also pray their shields hold for in your light, we are all loved. We also pray-"

Makers breath, wrap it up already. The woman's been praying for five minutes without actually saying anything. We get it, this is the first time you've had to do it. Just get on with it.

"For you everlasting love, Amen."

"Amen." He repeated with a bit more drama than necessary. The Soldiers looked up from their bowed heads to him. He took a breath and prepared. "You know your positions. You know your mission. The Maker walks with us. Let us bring down this cur once and for all." He drew his blade and hefted it to the sky. "For your lands, for your families. For the Inquisition!" The men gave a roar at his growl. "Give that bastard no quarter." The men have another huzzah. "To your positions."

The men moved without a second order. Cullen sheathed his blade and looked to the sister. He knew he had his own prayers of atonement before he died today.

He made his way into the temple around the fussing nobles. The temple was blessedly empty with candles still lit. He looked up at the great statue of Andraste with her hands open. He took a knee and folded his hands. "To the Mighty Maker and his bride the Redeemer, we make our last stand in your glory. I ask to guide these brave men and women to victory or into your loving arms." He sighed and tried to hide his smile. "I confess to having engaged in pleasures of the flesh that are not in accordance with your divine plan. I beg your forgiveness for letting my desire to be overcome by sin. I'm sorry for using my body as an instrument of sin. I ask your forgiveness to be washed in the blood of Andraste to be cleansed. To cleanse and forgive all the men in our coming battle for what they must do." He paused, briefly seeing Uthreida fall in battle. His heart ached at the idea and sighed. He bowed his head. "Though all is shadow before me, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to walk the drifting roads of the beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's light. Nothing he has wrought shall be lost."

"A prayer for you?"

Cullen turned to see Uthreida walk behind him. He smirked. "For those, we have lost." He turned back forward and sighed inwardly, trying not to see his wife die at the hands of that monster. "And those I am afraid to lose."

"Fear is a choice, Valok. But the danger is real."

He stood slowly, grunting at his knees. "We know what Corypheus is capable of. We must draw strength from wherever we can."

Her eyes drew to the large statue before them. He followed her gaze in silence. Taking reverence in her holiest's light. Uthreida made a sound like sucking her teeth. "So uh, how do I- how do I do this?"

Cullen looked at her and smiled. There's no way she's converting. Not now? But a sense of pride and compromise filled him as he looked over her. He wanted to tease, but didn't want to drive her away completely. "Just speak what's in your heart and the lady will listen."

"Not him? Okay. Uh" she looked at the statue and puffed her cheeks. "Do I have to kneel?" Cullen chuckled but shook his head. She looked up at the statue and took a deep breath. "Blessings. You're already blessed. I'm starting downriver here. Uh. Greetings, I guess." Cullen hid his smile at her awkward display of communion. She looked at the statue with a serious expression. "I don't know if you'll listen to a pagan's prayer, but I ask you to reconsider. I've watched, trained with, battled with, and made friends with these men and women who fight in your name. For your glory. I've shed blood with them, broken bread with them, healed them as best as I could. They look to you. They see your kindness and patience and forgiveness. I know our people are different. Our history is different. But our goals are always the same. I've read your stories and I see the similarities between our people. Whether your name is Andraste or Allessia or Talos, our people, we are the same. Lady Andraste, I hope you can hear me because I will not repeat myself." Cullen looked at her in confusion at the dominating tone in her voice. "I have seen the Halls of Valor, and they are beautiful. I have spoken to the heroes of the past and they have agreed to have conversations with Shore. Any man or woman that falls on these shores with even a drop of Nordic blood will be welcomed into the Hall of Valor."

"What?" His voice was almost a shrill of concern at her and her threat.

"Open your gates or lose your army." She spoke without hearing him. "The final war will come just as surely as ours will at some point. And when yours tries to take the land of Nords, you will face the army of your own making. Open your gates or give Shore his rightful army.

"Stop this." Cullen held her arms to stop her. "You just threatened my God. What is wrong with you?"

She spun on him. "With me? Your people have been denied an afterlife for the last thousand years. The gates will open. I assure you."

"Do you really think this is going to change anything? All you'll do is seal them tighter because of your hubris."

She only smiled at the statue with a wrinkle on her nose. "WE'LL SEE!" She yelled to the statue.

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. "Utha" and sighed at her arrogance.

"Open the gates" she shouted to the statue. She pulled a small coin purse from her belt and tossed it. Cullen watched as the purse landed in the statue's hand. She gave an excited intake of air and looked at him with a wide smile of glee.

Cullen looked at her in more confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Varric said if I make a prayer, I have to sacrifice something and it has to land in the bowl or hands of her for her to hear so the prayer will be answ - why are you laughing?" Cullen had hunched over and was trying to not laugh out loud. "He lied again, didn't he?"

"He did."

Uthreida waved a frustrated hand at the statue. "I just lost fifty gold!"

"That's simony. It's illegal and not in accordance with doctrine. Makers breath. What am I going to do with you?"

"Visit me in Sovngarde?"

Cullen looked annoyed at her off-the-cuff remark. "I don't want Sovngarde."

"You hear that!" She yelled at the statue with a pointed finger.

He turned her to face him so she'll stop yelling at his iconography. "Stop." He met her eyes and the annoyance seemed to dispute. His hand curving to her cheek. She leaned into it with closed eyes. Cullen recognized that she had secured a place for his soldiers because she thinks she's going to die. "You'll come back, won't you?"

Her slow pause broke his heart. "Our time is measured, Cullen."

He swallowed back his fear as he held her. "You will come back." Trying desperately to make his voice sound as sure as he wanted to be.

"Is that an order, Commander?" A smirk curled at her lips.

Cullen looked at her. Seeing more than her eyes and smile. Seeing the future he wanted with her. Feeling the comfort she gave. After everything. After last night. She had to come back. He wanted more. He wanted her. "Yes."

Uthreida looked away with a smile only to be distracted. Cullen followed her gaze to see two moths dancing in the flame of a candle. One of them flew too close, burning, and fell to the stone step while the other still danced. Her eyes adverted as if in thought. Her eyes searched for something on the temple floor. She raised her chin to look at the stained glass window with determination. After a breath, she searched his eyes in fear. She lowered her eyes quickly and Cullen wanted to second guess himself if he saw what he did. "I will see you again, Commander."

"In Sovngarde?" He asked with a taste of disgust on his tongue.

She smiled at his tone. "No. In Skyhold."

Cullen noticed she looked torn, unsure of what came next like himself. He pulled his hands away from her. "Here." He removed his pendant necklace and placed it over her head. "My brother gave it to me before I left for Templar training. Said it was to bring luck."

Uthreida looked at the coin with reverence in one hand. "You would gift me your luck?"

He chuckled at the idea. "Not as comforting as I thought it would be, but yes."

She smiled at the coin but shook her head. "This is all you have left of your family. Are you sure?"

"Well, you can give it back when you return."

Uthreida bit her lip as she looked at the coin. "Maybe" her own fingers going under her gorget at her throat to pull her own necklace. The iron symbol of Talos left her neck as she looked at him. "Maybe we can fool the gods," she took a step towards him and placed the braided leather over his head, "for a few minutes." Her hands went to cover the symbol over his chest. Cullen stood silent as she looked at it. Taking it into a hand and kissed it softly before placing it back over his chest.

Cullen looked at his own gods face on the coin and held it. A smile as he could only imagine what it would mean to fool the gods. "I'll wait for you outside the gates of the Golden City."

She looked at him in surprised confusion. Searching him for a lie. But then she blushed with a smile, turning her eyes from him for a moment. "I'll wait for you by the Whalebone Bridge, Valok. But only for a while. The mead calls to me. As do my ancestors." She bit her lips and met his eyes. "Do not wait for me outside the City for long. I won't deny you your eternity that is so desperately earned, Cullen. Embrace your ancestors. Embrace your Andraste."

Cullen saw her soft smile as she looked at him. She smiled like she did last night. A slight blush to her cheeks. He was scared this morning. The fear of losing her far outweighed the fear of rejection. But there weren't any fears as he circled her face in his hands and kissed her gently. A small meeting of her lips. This one, innocent moment. She tastes of sage, mint and all he can smell is her thistle. Felt himself sway as he filled himself of her scent. His head swam as all of his senses were devoted to her. Her soft lips hid her sharp tongue. Her hardened armor protected her soft heart. Maker, her skin under his gloves. Her hand resting tentatively behind his couter, the other clutching at his fur. He pulled back slowly.

He was pulled down by his gorget to fall on her lips again. Her arms wrapped over his shoulders and stood on her toes to kiss him deeper, harder, fiercer, and more desperate than before. He was forced to stand tall at her actions. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her to him. This. This is what he wanted. Cullen only smiled as she became everything he thought she was. A wild flame that enticed and he was eager to dance around. Wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer. Her lips made his breath escape his lungs and unable to breathe enough of her in. She sucked and bit his lower lip. She was savage. She was his savage. And he was her monster. Cullen sucked in air as all of his blood rushed. His body was inflamed like a torch and her acceptance of him quenched the fire. His hands went lower to meet her plates and had to struggle to grab her rear to hold her flush to him. She moved to hold him under his pauldrons to bring him closer.

Her back plate hit the wall of the alter and she ran her gloved hands through his hair. He had no idea how it happened but loved it. Her lips, her scent, her hot breaths heating his cooled skin. He moved from her lips, kissing the scar on her cheek, her jaw, and kissing the sensitive spot on her throat. She moaned meekly. Her fingers grabbed his hair and forced him to kiss her again. Her tongue dancing wickedly along his lower lip. He delved deeper into her, grabbing her and forcing their middles to meet only to be denied by her cod piece. Her tongue danced, writhed, and purred with his. Cullen didn't care if he ever breathed again so long as she was near him. Her leg wrapped around his, trying to climb. He bent lower, grabbing her rear in both hands as the kiss became sloppy, deeper, needed, desperate. His heart-melting in his chest and felt the heat of melted wax drip against his stomach.

This woman, the thought, pulling her leg higher. His growing cock met her codpiece and he growled in frustration at her armor.

He felt her shiver in his arms and smirk during their kiss. Her one leg raised her up on her toes to deepen their kiss. Enticing his tongue and sucked. Her teeth grazing him. Her hand tightened in his hair, pulling him back slightly as she kissed the scar on his lip. Then used her tongue to pull his ear into her mouth and bit it gently, her tongue flicking the flesh. He shivered as he heard her soft moan in his ear.

Cullen ground himself against her and heard the air escape his lungs. She was every inch the savage he thought she was and he loved it. He held her face in his hand and kissed her deeper. Longer. Catching his breath. He loved her. He kissed her slower as the thoughts returned to him. He needed her. Their kiss was less feverish, but still as emotionally jarring as before. He loved her. His heart calmed as she touched his cheek. He loved her and was willing to show it in any way that she would allow. His thoughts of master and subject, friend, or complicated relationship no longer mattered. So long as she was at his side.

He pulled away, letting her slide down his body. The hooks of his lance rest catching her gorget.

Uthreida slammed his chest playfully as she had to slide up to unhook one another. "This is why I hate your armor." Cullen watched in reverence as she slid an arm between his to hold his back. She rested her forehead on his neck as she was just out of breath as he was. She hid her face in his chest. "Damnit Cullen."

"I'm sorry", the words were automatic as he smiled.

"'No you're not." Her words purred with a smile.

He stifled back the chuckle. "I'm sorry I'm not sorry." Uthreida looked at him with a smile, her lips swollen from their fervent kiss. Her hand cupped his cheek and held him to her. He ran his thumb over her lips. The lips he knew he couldn't live without. He let his eyes close, and found himself leaning into her again. Resting his forehead against hers.

"Comand-erm"

Cullen felt her become stiff. Her eyes were wide in concern as she looked at him. Cullen turned to see a Soldier standing at the door with their back turned to them. Not seeing the Commander pressing against the Dragon Slayer Contractor in the chapel of the Maker. Desecrating it. "What" he barked.

"The armies are ready and so is the Inquisitor, Lady Slayer." The Soldiers cleared their throat and rocked uncomfortably on their feet.

Cullen kept one eye on the runner as he kept her from the Soldiers direct gaze. Never minding her black glove that was holding the furs at his back. Cullen forced every ounce of hate and irritable feelings through his gaze as the Soldier destroyed the moment. The soldier slowly walked away from the temple with their arms swinging awkwardly. Cullen took a cleansing breath and looked at Uthreida. She watched the Soldier but a look crossed her eyes like she was afraid of what this interlude would mean for him and his fate. "I'm tired of running" Cullen whispered. Taking her lips in a chaster kiss than before. More loving, as he was held her face to his. His arms tightened around her like a departing hug as he hid his face in her shoulder. "You will come back." his begging plea whispered into her ear

She held him in the same tightness. Her arms were his home that he was losing. "I will see you again. I swear."

"Don't ask me to live in a world without you. I-" The sound of a clearing throat drew them both back to their lives. Their realities. Cullen kissed her forehead for the last time. Taking a step back. He felt the weight of the world as her arms left his body. He looked to the marble statue, then her. His mortal goddess. "Please come back to me."

Uthreida curled a pained brow. He could see that she was torn between what she has sworn and what she must do. She stood, ready to say something but remained silent. She closed the distance and placed her furrowed brows on his forehead in the last tinder embrace. He's lost her. He knows it. She pulled away and he saw the deep sadness in her eyes as she turned away from him. When she left, he looked at the statue of the bride. His bride, and prayed for his own. "You've carried me when nothing else has. Please, carry her home."