Chapter inspiration: Eminence - Universe (feat. Meron Ryan)
Blood spattered onto the sand laden stone floor.
Vaelyn pulled her blade from the limp body of a Venatori mage, satisfied with the sickening squelch as it slid out of the meaty sheath.
They had finally cleared out the last of the scum hiding behind the dunes and the sporadic sand storms and the ruins that dotted the desolate land.
It wasn't so bad, they weren't walking away completely empty handed after all. The Dwarven ruins held quite a few magical trinkets and old knowledge; things that would no longer be in danger of falling into the hands of the enemy. She'd be ecstatic if she never had to see another grain of sand ever again.
"I think that's the last of them," she said conversationally, using the raggedy robe on the corpse to clean her sword. "Though, you can never be sure with vermin."
"Ha! We can always go back and fight that dragon, boss." Bull remarked jovially.
"I vote that we leave that over grown lizard be." Varric grumbled, Dorian adding a, "I concur." for good measure.
Vaelyn shook her head in amusement and bent down to check the other corpses for useful items. "Not gonna piss off a dragon today boys, I'd like to get home in one piece and in a timely fashion."
"Is that so?" Varric perked up and a wicked grin spread across his face. "Are you attending a secret rendezvous?"
"I...well," knowing full well that Varric would catch her in a lie, Vaelyn opted for a half truth instead "Perhaps."
Dorian shot her a knowing look. They were trudging about in a bleeding desert for maker's sake! Yet her love life, or lack there of, was the center of fascination.
Absolutely incorrigible, Vaelyn thought, rolling her eyes at Bull who insisted on making lewd jokes at her expense, although his visual aids nearly had her sides splitting in laughter.
She had made no such plans with Cullen, but if they ever managed to get out of the Hissing Wastes, Maker allowing, Vaelyn was going to make plans.
Her nose crinkled then in disgust. Before she did anything, she was going to push off cleaning her armor onto some poor unfortunate soul; it was caked in blood and sand and sweat.
She aimed to hole up in a bath tub for as long as she could as well; assuming the smell that encompassed her, which had baked into her skin during their time under the relentless sun, would even leave her. It was as bad as the state of her armor, comparable to the inside of a mausoleum rife with putrefaction. She did all she could to hold back the powerful urge to retch, blinking away tears of revulsion, walking aloof to the rest of the group.
"So about that bet, Varric," Dorian pipped up as the party made their way out of the Dwarven carved cavern.
"You ready to make a bet Sparkler?"
"Ten silver on the Commander, I think." Dorian said casually.
"Whoa ho ho, really!" Varric chuckled incredulously, "You're pretty confident considering that the odds are six to one in favor of our fearless leader. You sure you wanna make that bet?"
"Ha! where's the fun in making the easy bet, my good dwarf? Don't count out the Commander just yet."
Vaelyn chose to ignore their banter; it was probably in her best interest not knowing what they were betting on and how many in the Inquisition were in on it. Still, she was curious as it concerned both her and Cullen. It couldn't be anything innocent she reasoned, not when Varric was keeping the book.
The few days it took to make the return journey to Skyhold were calm and uneventful; just how Vaelyn liked it. The mission was daunting and she felt absolutely drained by the time their group made it across the long bridge and into the courtyard of the Inquisition's citadel, all she wanted to do was crawl into a bed or a cot even a hay pile if it meant she could get proper rest.
As she went to dismount, the pungent smell that clung tightly to her person was wafted into her face by the gentle breeze that began to pick up; throwing her into another fit of retching. She lost her grip on the saddle and her leg twisted awkwardly in the stirrup when she tried correcting herself, sending her backwards.
"Oh sh—!" Vaelyn inhaled sharply and held her breath, expecting to hit the ground hard.
Two strong arms caught her and she was no longer falling and Vaelyn closed her eyes tight, releasing the breath she held. Her savior maneuvered around her and freed up an arm so that they could untangle her foot from the snaring stirrup without dropping her.
"Are you alright?" Cullen asked as he steadied her.
She opened her eyes and allowed herself another few cleansing breaths before turning to face him, sending a short nod his way.
Vaelyn became very aware of the proximity of herself and the Commander, her face flushed with embarrassment. She was smelly and grimy and Cullen had to have seen her reaction when her body decided to try and kill itself.
She quickly stepped away putting some distance between them, if he had gotten a whiff of her, she wasn't sure — a more thorough observation revealed a glimmer in his eye and it told her he found her antics amusing, and the twitch at the corner of his mouth expressed that he was trying not to laugh.
Vaelyn was a little mortified and she attempted to admonish him, but the words never came and she stared at him dumbly as her mouth tried to form silent phrases.
Cullen chuckled, "If that is all my lady, I'll let Josephine and Leliana know that the mission debriefing can wait until you're more...presentable." He turned to head up to the keep.
"Actually," halting Cullen's escape. "How busy do you think you'll be tomorrow evening?"
Vaelyn was a little flustered but she wanted to be forward with him and she recognized the way Cullen knitted his brow when something piqued his curiosity — the same way he did now as he studied her carefully.
Cullen mulled over the inquiry for a moment trying to decipher the true meaning of the question, "Well I'm sure that I could make time if something important were to, ah... come up."
She bit her cheek hard to curb her elation and her eyes lit up like she was the cat that got into the cream. "If you end up having some free time, maybe...if you'd want to that is—you could join me for dinner. In my quarters, for uh—," She trailed off like the fool she struggled to not be.
This was nothing like her envisioned conversation. Very smooth.
"I uh, appreciate the thought, Inquisitor," Cullen raised a hand up to rub the back of his neck, picking his words delicately, "but I'm not sure that dinner is that important. Perhaps some other time?"
He merely observed as a typhoon of expressions passed over her, they too came and went just as quickly as the excitement had. He smiled apologetically and left her standing there as he retreated.
Dorian swept up beside her when she stood alone and watched the Commander climb up the stairs to the keep. "That went swimmingly and you were absolutely charming. You have a way with matters of the heart, I dare say."
"Shut up." Vaelyn hissed venomously, resisting her desire to shake him violently.
Dorian threw his head back and laughed, sauntering off before the Inquisitor could dole out punishment.
Instead of storming off and shutting herself away like she wanted to, Vaelyn turned her attention to the Dracolisk that was nudging at her shoulder impatiently. Keeping her self calm while tending to the mount was an arduous undertaking at first, as she had a tendency to replace embarrassment with anger; she quickly slipped into a contemplative state.
Doubts fluttered across the fore of her thoughts, wondering if he was oblivious to her attentions or if perhaps he found her affections unpleasant and hadn't figured out how to let her down easy.
With her mount settled she brushed off her disheartened musings and headed towards her quarters, but not before having some poor attendant retrieve her fetid gear for cleaning, and having another fill the tub Josephine had procured for her apartment.
While she soaked in the near scalding water the afternoon's thoughts crawled back into her mind.
Vaelyn reflected on her actions and her own clumsy words and then over Cullen's reactions and his unexpected refusal. Something didn't sit right with her; she had nearly killed herself by her own...stink – yet the Commander did not seem at all repulsed by her messy state when he had so valiantly saved her from that wretched stirrup.
Why did his demeanor show the opposite of his words? Vaelyn scrunched her face at the thought; mind boggled by the mystery, but a fire sparked within her – a determination fueled by her adoration for him.
She wasn't at all content with Cullen turning her down.
So the next evening she witnessed Cullen railing in through her door – which miraculously stayed intact considering the force of the Commander's entry – and it took much of Vaelyn's self control to keep from grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"Is everything alright?" She asked with just a touch of concern.
"I–uh," The ex-Templar was breathless and his hair was a little mussed from his frantic sprint up the tower. "Is everything – are you ok?"
"Fine, I think. Are you ok?" She said assuredly and turned the question back on him.
"Of course..." Cullen looked thoroughly embarrassed now with his cheeks colored pink with an arm up rubbing at the back of his neck, eyes averted.
Vaelyn's heart thundered in her chest as she coaxed the words from her throat that would get him to stay. "Since you're here now, maybe you'll humor me and stay for dinner?"
The request brought his gaze to hers and he went still, considering the offer. There was no disgust or disinterest written on his features and Vaelyn was inwardly cheering when Cullen finally nodded his acceptance to her dinner proposal.
She made an effort to have her desk cleared off specially for this evening, trying to move a proper table up the winding staircase proved to be a difficult feat in theory and thus is was left as just that, theory. There was plenty of surface space for the both of them and the light meal she snagged from the kitchens. Everything couldn't have been more perfect, and she took note that Cullen was more than happy to talk about something beyond the inner workings of the Inquisition and battle strategy – the questions about her personally caught her off guard.
A Trevelyan always gave as good as they got; simple yet mischievous comments about Templar vows and celibacy had Cullen stumbling over his words as he attempted to explain, albeit awkwardly, that he was never so devout.
The next dinner invitation came a couple days later and Cullen was more than happy to accept, even more so when Vaelyn produced an antique chess board after their meal. She was never very good at it, such in-depth strategy was lost to her, but she was quite content with losing if it meant seeing that crooked grin play at the corner of the ex-Templar's lips.
Their conversation held few of the same topics as the previous did and many new ones, Vaelyn recounted the instances where she enraged her mother with a reenactment of some grandiose duel from a book her father had given her, or the single time she visited Kirkwall at the age of ten and got lost in Lowtown.
She explained, for the first time since Haven, how she ended up at the conclave before the temple imploded with fade energy; grandma Trevelyan was insistent that Vaelyn accompany her, and she was all too happy to oblige. Cullen silently comforted her, squeezing her hand gently, scaring away any remaining guilt she had over the traumatic event.
When the third dinner request arrived it was Cullen who started their conversation, tentatively at first, with stories of his childhood before going off to join the Order. Like he had done for her, she merely listened as he regaled both the happier and bleaker times of his service to the Templars from back during his days in Kinloch Hold to those days he spent in Kirkwall.
It was Vaelyn's turn to rest a hand over his, an action that he had preformed almost a week ago. "You didn't have to tell me, you know." She said quietly, tracing little circles on his knuckles with her thumb.
Cullen found the motion entrancing, discovering that he could easily lose himself in the tenderness of the gesture. "It's been a very long time... perhaps too long – It's nice not having those particular memories feel so–so suffocating."
There was a distinct relief in his voice, as if some void deep within was finally appeased.
She reluctantly released Cullen's hand and picked up her goblet – which was filled with some sweet non-alcoholic blackberry concoction courtesy of Cabot – and made her way out onto the balcony that loomed above the main courtyard. The crisp mountain air was refreshing despite it nipping at uncovered flesh, Cullen following suit had her covered in goose pimples; abrupt nervousness pooled in her belly.
"After everything that I've been through, I never thought I would live long enough to get a second chance."
"A second chance?" She mumbled into her cup. As she went to take a sip Cullen plucked the goblet from her hand and set it on the balustrade, far enough away where it wouldn't be knocked off onto an unsuspecting passerby.
Vaelyn's pulse quickened considerably, her knees went weak as Cullen pulled her to him firmly and pressed their mouths together for the first time.
The roughness of his chapped lips and the scruffiness of his three o'clock shadow had her turning to putty in his arms. There were many nights where she dreamed of exactly this, of kissing him and she had it all figured out; her reprisal to his assault and the words she would speak after they had finally come up for air. None of that seemed relevant now, or it wouldn't have seemed relevant if she could actually remember any of it.
Cullen was unpracticed in his kissing, his movements were sloppy and a bit unsure; what he lacked in experience he made up with vigor as he devoured her mouth. Vaelyn savored every fleeting second of it.
She was unaware when he finally managed to pry himself away, but she felt her mouth droop into frown and only when he spoke again did her eyes flutter open.
"Something wrong?" He stared into her emerald pools with a glimmer of worry in his own.
"You stopped." Vaelyn stated matter-of-factly earning a chuckle from him. "What did you mean by second chance?"
There was a pregnant pause as he pondered the best way to answer, Vaelyn playing with his errant strands of blonde curly hair was not the least bit helpful. "A story for another time I think."
He knew that he had only temporarily sated her curiosity, this was their moment after all and not one of love long past.
Another question. "How long have you been wanting to do that?"
"Far longer than I care to admit and I may have acted sooner if Varric hadn't waylaid me first." He confessed.
"So then you declining me..." Vaelyn narrowed her eyes as she followed that thought.
And Cullen finished it, "...was Varric's doing."
The absolute glee in knowing she had foiled that conniving dwarf's manipulations was electric down her spine; Cullen could guess from the euphoric grin spread on her face that she indeed had something to do with his distraught sprint up the tower only a handful of nights ago.
He couldn't have been happier.
Before Vaelyn could utter another word on the matter, Cullen leaned in and pressed their mouths together again.