Inquisition icons and markers scattered to the stone floor with a musical metal chime. Cullen's hard muscled arms pinned her in from either side before they swept around her. Her lips meet his in wild hungry desperation. Tempest's needs scorched through her with his every touch and caress. She felt herself grow wet as he firmly settled her plump bottom on top of the hard wooden war-table.

Their tongues' battled. Each swipe and lick made her burn hotter. They fought over the delectably thin slices of peach he teasingly fed her. She taunted him back by wrapping her tongue around his sticky fingers with each bite, completely cleaning up all the juices lest not a single drop be wasted. She pouted at him, seductively shimmying her shoulders once all the peach treats had disappeared.

He growled at the display and crashed his lips into hers, completely dominating the never ending kiss. His punishing affections left her lips sensitive so when he pulled his mouth from hers to travel down her neck, the cold air of the council meeting room felt delightful. With a sharp nip along her collarbone, Cullen made her gasp and arch her back. It pulled her neck away from his wandering lips, but thrust her ample breasts up and towards him.

With deft fingers he agonizingly undid each button of her hideous tan uniform. Each pinged away as it was released from its cloth prison with each pass of Cullen's hands. His fingers slid over the mounding tops of her bosom and traced along the supportive upper edge of her under bodice. With practiced digits he dove his fingers into the undergarment and skillfully pulled first one breast then the other out the top and settled them just so on top of the bodice. Her nipples were a bare inch above the white garment's top edge. Leaning down, he laved each peak slowly and gently with his rough tongue.

Instinctually her legs wrapped around his middle as he ardently pulled her against him. She moaned as she ground her aching core along his rippling abdomen. His armor hid a nearly magical physique of solid, large muscles. Each bulged from years of Templar training. One of his large hands kneaded her ass as his mouth again worshipped the column of her throat.

Every small nip spun her tighter and higher. She felt as if she was drunk in Cullen's arms, his mouth skimmed along the slope of her shoulders. His hands and mouth were delightfully everywhere, pulling her plump figure tighter to his body, roaming the curves hidden beneath her bodice. With a jerk that made her whine deep and long he yanked her bodice tauter by the laces then began to speedily undo them. With one last swift motion of his wrist he freed her from the cloth and reed garment and she sucked in a sweet stinging gasp of air. With the sudden onslaught of oxygen her body briefly contracted and released all at once, sending her arousal ever higher.

Cullen used that moment to shift his body slightly and abruptly his hard, thick length was pressed against her core. She arched against the ridge of his cock as he returned his mouth to hers. Each slide of his tongue against hers was accompanied by a slow roll of his hips that made her shudder deliciously.

"Please Cullen now… I need you" She moaned into his curls as he bit down on the rise between her jaw and shoulder. Firm enough to hold her, still soft enough to make her gasp in pleasure, a white spark raced down her nerves and crackled along her clit. Cullen's response was to swiftly unlace and unbuckle her pants. With a flourish of a stage magician he peeled the tight tan leggings off her and tossed them somewhere over his shoulder.

With her arms braced behind her she sat on the mapped war-table. Bare, naked, beautiful, and shivering and wanting. One of her hands stole down between her legs only to be stopped by his firm grasp and virile chuckle. Cullen placed her hand back on the wooden surface and then his hand slid between them and between her legs. Her dark copper nether curls parted under his talented fingers. When his thumb found her pleasure pearl firmly, she nearly came undone right there, but it was not quite enough.

She ached empty and desperate to be filled, to be stretched and plundered. His digits parted the petals of her womanhood teasing along the opening slit. She was so wet they slid easily, in first one finger than another. She gasped as Cullen fluttered them inside her before he arched them up and to the front of her body, hitting that one place inside her that made her senses hum. She could feel the tension mounting in her sex with each flick of his finger on her sensitized bud and each sweep inside her.

Tempest panted as he placed his free hand flat on her chest and urged her to lay back. With a saucy look she did as he silently requested, her head came to rest directly beside the Emprise du Lion. He sensually slid the palm of his hand down her middle to take the place of his other hand. The hand coated in her juices took ahold of his straining erection and pumped it. Once, twice, Cullen transferred the lubricating fluid along his length. He placed the crown of his cock at her entrance, parting her swollen, red lips, teasing the very rim with his tip. He was openly panting and shaking with desire to slam in, completing them, melding them together, but instead he placed one hand beside her head as he slowly pressed forward…

…..

She bolted up in her extra-large bed, the fabric of her nightgown roughly irritated her aroused tender nipples. The cool sheets were much more gentle on her more delicate swollen bits. Ice still frosted the sun brightened windows all around her tower room. The fire was all but dead and barely gave off a warm glow. Her uniform still lay out clean and ready for the morning. She was here, she was home, but what the hell just happened?

A second knock resounded from her wooden door, this time accompanied by the polite but insistent voice of Josephine, the Inquisition's ambassador and her counselor. "Inquisitor?… Tempest are you awake? It is a candle mark after first chime."

"Shit!" Tempest jumped out of bed and her feet slapped across the rug softened stone floor. "I will be right there!" she said as she grabbed her uniform and began to quickly don the vile tan monstrosity. The dressing hook she had Iron Bull put in the wall aided her to swiftly bind herself down into her bodice with a small wince due to her overly sensitized nipples. She had never needed another person to pull the laces on the back of her corset before, as long as she had a dressing hook. She had dismissed the waiting lady selected for her after finding the girl gossiping about 'the size of Inquisitor's melons' to one of the guardsmen. The girl was transferred to the kitchen as a drudge and as for Jim, she left the discipline of that recruit in the Commander's capable hands. Tempest shuddered pleasantly at the thought of what those hands had done to her in that vision. She stopped for just a moment and took three gulping breaths of the bracing cold air, letting them out slowly. The pants came next each clasp, laces and buckles were finished quickly under her nimble fingers.

"Oh all is well then. When you didn't show up for the morning meeting I volunteered to see if you slept in this morning. I will return to the war room and let everyone know you are on your way." Josie's ever rich and cheerful voice responded through the heavy wood door.

The counselor's light feet fled down the tower steps swiftly making barely enough sound for Tempest to hear her passage. Letting out her breath in a hot puff of frustration she finished latching her breasts into her jacket and as always it strained over the twin mounds even bound as they were. Despite or maybe because of all the battles her body had changed a bit since her last fitting. Perhaps this time they could afford a different color fabric.

Quickly she snatched her brush from the bedside table and ran it through her fiery locks as quick as the knots and snarls from her strange sleep allowed. Setting it down she looked at herself in the mirror trying to discern exactly what had happened to her. She highly doubted it could be Envy but she didn't know for certain that it wasn't some left over bit from the demon. She would just have to speak with Solas.

"He will know what to do." She said with one last tug on the hem of the uncomfortable jacket only to have one of the straining clasps buckle under the pressure and come undone. A loud sigh escaped Tempest as she undid all the clasps down to the broken one and folded it over as if left open on purpose.

Today was already turning out to be an interesting one… She thought as she bound down the tower steps.

…..

Her stomach rumble loudly enough for everyone in the counsel room to hear. Leliana smirked and tried to hide her light giggle behind the back of her hand in a very Orlesian fashion. Josephine was polite enough to ignore it completely, but Commander Cullen had to brace his large hands on the table before him and chuckle deeply.

She was transfixed momentarily by those hands on the wooden surface, each large digit battle roughened and peppered by tiny scars. The back of his left hand had a slightly larger scar across the thumb knuckle. He had taken his black gloves off and placed them beside him on the table sometime before she had been roused. Those powerful hands bare and on her… Tempest shook herself out of it and gave a nervous laugh.

"I seemed to have missed breakfast by sleeping in this morning, but let's continue. The quicker this is, the faster I can go beg the head-cook for a fry up. Leliana, you were just telling me about this mysterious spy?" she motioned to the middle of the map near the Free Marches.

The spymaster took a step closer to the table before she continued the end of her explanation of who was what and why. Tempest could hardly concentrate on the words. She was so hungry and in two ways at the same time! How that was even possible she could hardly guess. When was the last time she had shared her body with another? Felt the rush of completion drown her senses? Was Cullen always so tall and his shoulders so broad? And those hands…by the stone! If she was to judge which hunger she needed to fulfilled at this moment she knew which one it would be.

"Inquisitor what do you think?" Cullen asked shattering her lecherous line of thought.

Licking her lips slightly she picked up her pile of notes to gather her thoughts on the topic. She tried her best to look confident and composed as she chose which of the three to investigate next.

"The Bard." she uttered from behind the raised papers, hiding the rare blush that stole across her cheeks.

"Well that is all needed today then, Inquisitor. Oh! Harritt said he wanted to see you later to take a new set of measurements. Your old leathers are too damaged to even copy the pattern off of. Other than that, the day is yours!" Josie intoned brightly as she made her way around the table heading to the door.

Tempest had to quiet herself as she played with the thought of asking the Commander to stay a second. How would he respond to such an ambush? Dropping the papers on the table she pinched her thigh in an effort to get herself moving. She made it to the door at the same moment as Leliana, but instead of offering the universally dangerous woman the exit first, she slipped between her and the door frame and out into the hall. Her boots made a quick slapping sound on the stones as she retreated.

Passing through the double doors, following her nose, Tempest was delighted to discover a hot plate of pancakes thrust into her hands by the resident spirit of compassion. She smiled, with one arm she hugged Cole and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. As was their habit he had leaned down so she could reach his face. Not long after they got to Skyhold, Cole had started appearing with filled plates for her as she often forgot to eat at regular mealtimes. Not that she didn't eat, it was just that she was so busy a set lunch or dinner time was not in the cards. The helpful spirit was an important person in her life, he was the one who made sure she took care of herself. Or did it for her sometimes.

"A blanket at a desk, a cup of tea, I helped." He said with a happy grin peeking out from beneath his hat.

"You always help, Sweety. I am going to eat this while its hot then go talk to Solas. Would you like to come with?" she asked as she settled herself onto one of the nearest long benches with a happy sigh over the delectable smells coming from the plate.

"Not today, the Seeker said she would read me the next section of her book. I know so much, and little. I want to learn." Cole replied nervously shifting foot to foot.

Between one yummy bite and another Cole disappeared off to see Seeker Cassandra. It never frightened her as it did to other people and she was initially surprised to find that Cassandra had taken such a liking to the boy. No harm came from reading to him or reminding him to wash his cloths. 'Let the formidable warrior mother him as much as she wants!' Tempest thought with a shudder as she remembered the 'intervention' she and all her companions had staged in the first days at Skyhold. The spirit helped out and then some. It was a grueling few weeks, but after an odd conversation reported to her from an exchange between him and Dorian, Tempest found out that he had never washed his garments. A small hug and sniff confirmed it. They all took turns teaching Cole how to care for his human-ish body. Everything from eating to puberty, which poor Blackwall got stuck with. Cole still sometimes sat in front of her mirror trying to will a beard to grow.

Each fluffy bite was savored, pancakes were her favorite breakfast. Cole had even remembered to get her a small side of bacon fried perfectly crispy. Between the two dishes Tempest quickly found herself full which only left her other hunger and the strange vision that had caused it. She left her dishes for a kitchen servant to clean up and made her way across the mostly empty hall with a silent wave to the busy writer in the corner.

Tempest pushed open the heavy wooden door that lead to Solas' level of the rotunda and was buffeted by the pungent, moldy smells of drying plaster and the acidic tang of paint. The muscles on her nose scrunched up at the scents and she rubbed the bottom of her nostrils to keep from sneezing. As she walked a few more paces into the round the door swung shut behind her on its own.

"Solas?" She asked as she walked over to his desk in the center of the room and leaned the curve of her hip against it. "Solas, you are here?"

"Indeed, Inquisitor give me just a moment to clean my brush and I will be right down" Solas' voice causing her to straighten and turn around to face the scaffolding he used while painting.

Tempest had to admit that for an elf Solas was considerably meatier and the cut of meat she was treated to as he climbed down the rickety ladder was no exception. The tantalizing view only made her think back on the vision and the conversation about to happen. Her cheeks burned at the thought of how the dream was making her notice even Solas' backside now! How could she tell this mild mannered apostate that she had some sort of vision of Commander Cullen ravishing her on the war table! Her enthusiastic action in that vision brought a fierce blush to her face. Just thinking back on him in the meeting earlier made her smalls feel damp and her insides clench. What is wrong with me? She thought over and over to herself, making a mantra of those five words to fend of the lecherous visions in her mind.

"Inquisitor are you well? You look feverish, come sit." Solas said as he strode past her, paintbrush tucked behind his tapered ear, to the couch he had placed against one wall. Leisurely he picked up the inevitable book from one of the cushions and sat down. Every one of his movements looked graceful to her.

'Maybe I could get away without telling him the exact details.' She hoped silently as she joined him on the couch. The tan upholstery was nearly the same color as her uniform, though the embroidery on the cushions was by far more the aesthetic of the two. She fought the urge to rub herself against the rough fabric. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she found a sliver of fortitude before what would no doubt prove to be a memorable conversation. Tempest turned her upper body more towards Solas, pressing her lower back against the rounded arm of the well stuffed furniture. She tucked a coppery strand of hair that had escaped her usual long braid back behind her ear.

"Umm, yes I am fine but I … I hoped you could help me." She stuttered momentarily before finishing as a fleeting, deplorable vision of his long fingered hands held her down, tight while he fucked her screaming over the very couch arm she leaned against, flashed though her lascivious mind. It seemed that even time and forced focus could not fully defuse the sweltering flame that the passing night had left her with, and now any and all were subject to her imagined escapades.

"Of course Inquisitor and I am happy to help, what do you need?" His tone spoke of an unflappable personage, honed smooth over the years. Many evenings his voice had lulled her to sleep speaking of the Fade and his many discoveries there, while the team clustered around the campfire. She could listen to him speak for hours, content just to hear those dulcet tones. They never failed to relax her, even now... Would he make love silently, moaning or uttering words so lewd they would defile his upright tongue, whispering how he wanted to take her, fill her with… oh Maker! Why was she having thoughts like these in the first place?

"What do you think about time travel?" She kept her face carefully neutral, trying for a veneer of scholarly, hypothetical interest. Tempest had certainly seen it enough on Dorian's face. Solas and the Tevinter mage often got into loud debates, calling to each other from their perspective seats on different levels of the rotunda. On more than one occasion she had been fetched to stop Dorian from throwing books over the banister when a conversation had become more heated.

Solas' eyebrows rose as turned the weight of his full attention to the child of the stone seated beside him. He took in the flood of color across her face, the frayed ends of her red hair escaping the long braid which fell from over her shoulder and into her lap. Generally Josephine made sure that the Inquisitor was dressed impeccably, but today the tan Jacket was opened into a deep V. Tempest's entire appearance spoke of haste and dishevelment. It was obvious to him that this was no idle conversation. The apostate paused for a moment carefully considering his response.

Tempest could feel Solas' gaze slide over her body, logically she knew he was just taking in her harried appearance, but that didn't stop the delicious shiver that traveled down her spine into her core. Why wouldn't these desires leave her be! No matter how much she tried to banish them!

"To be honest, until your trip in Redcliff, I was unaware of any successful attempts."

"Oh … um well…what about knowing or seeing the future?" Tempest asked with eyes downcast and a picking finger tracing the pattern woven into the seats. The raised embroidery wrapped up and around in seductive arches and swirls, that begged her fingers to trace them. Maybe she just needed to occupy her mind with something, and the need, the want would dissipate.

"Precognition? I was unaware you held an interest in the subject." Solas answered, tilting his head with a ponderous glance. Quietly he folded his hands together then looped them over his crossed knee. He had never seen Tempest affected in such a quiet way. He had observed her rage with the endurance of a Reaver, the passion of her convictions brighter than a summer sun. Seeing her so sedate and flustered warranted careful inquisition on his part. Whatever affected her had to be dire indeed.

"My Grandmother!" Tempest blurted out as her eyes widened slightly and she fidgeted with a strand of embroidery floss that had bubbled out of the weave. The tension within her grew with each breath he took. Even under that frumpy sweater he wore she could tell his muscles were so wonderfully tone that she tripped over her words. "She…um, she claimed the females in our bloodline has it."

"Has it? Inquisitor Tempest have you had an experience?" He asked trying to phrase it in a way that would not send the nervous woman fleeing, but catching on the crucial wording he needed to unravel this puzzle. A patient pursuer of knowledge, he would not be so quick and inept to ruin a chance to gain insight on their perplexing leader. Looking out the corner of his eye, he watched her tense at the inquiry, the muscles of her shoulders rising and bunching.

Between his eyes on her again and the fear of admitting to her current issue, Tempest felt near to bursting. Every nerve tingled with the need to … to do… something! Anything!

"Perhaps I can get you some tea? Or would you prefer wine? I often find a beverage relaxing while discussing something one would rather not." Trying to catch her gaze as he spoke.

Tempest felt her heart lurch as Solas caught her eyes with his. Her eyes widened as she jerked back against the armrest.

"No! No I don't want wine, I fucked Cullen!" She gasped as she heard the words that had cried out from her mouth. Tears of embarrassment pooled at the corner of her eyes. Today was going so wrong, from before she even awoke. "No… no I mean I … I saw Cullen fuck me! No Shite! I saw it, and then I woke up! Fuck" she gestured wildly as she tried to fix what she had said. She knew there was no correcting this but maybe he could fix her, but not if she died from embarrassment first, she thought as she covered her face with both hands and gathered her legs to her chest.

Solas blinked and then blinked again, before he was able to sort through what she was trying to say. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them as he came to the no less awkward but perhaps the most logical answer. He leaned back, giving Tempest a moment more to gather herself as he placed a reassuring hand on the knees she had bent up on the couch between them.

"Inquisitor, judging by our earlier subject are you saying you had a vision of yourself and the Commander engaging in coitus?" He asked, his tone and volume low to preserve what little of her privacy he could.

"Yes." Tempest mumbled from behind her fingers before she dropped her hands onto the couch beside her and began to wiggle the tufted end of her braid. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before exhaling it out in a noisy rush of air. "Yes I had a vision of myself and the Commander. I have never felt or seen anything like it. It was …"

"Felt?" Solas asked quickly interrupting Tempest mid-comment.

"Yes even after I woke up, I could still feel it. It all seemed so real. His touch… my arousal, everything." She admitted with a small smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth and clenched fists. "I am still…"

"You said you awoke from it?" Solas said interrupting her "Hmmm… It sounds as if you had a dream. I have to wonder if it is an effect of the mark and the magic coursing through your body?" He postulated as he stood up and began leafing through the reports on his desk. Gritting her teeth Tempest nodded, affirming Solas' guess as correct and stood to join him at the desk.

"Dwarves, children of the stone, have no natural affinity with the Fade or magic. It will require research, but I do not believe it will harm you. Though the dreams may be less then settling. To be sure, I and another of your inner circle, will join you this evening in your room to guard your rest. Also I want you to write down your dreams. So I may be able to determine how far into the Fade you go." He said, pulling out a light grayish leather journal and held it out to her.

"Okay, but what about..." Tempest said as she took the tome from him and was guided out his door and into the main hall by this hand firmly on her back, pushing her out of the round room.

"Perhaps you should get some fresh air in the gardens to help clear your mind, after an unsettling dream I often find the cool breezes around Skyhold helpful." Solas whispered before he stepped back into the rotunda and shut the door.

"Everything okay there your Inquisitotialness?" The rough and gravelly voice of one Varric Tethras inquired from her left.

Tempest felt her nerves jump at the unexpected noise and she could not hold back the squeak that escaped her lips. She quickly recognized the stocky form leaning against the fireplace with pipe in hand and relaxed. His gravelly voice hung in the air between them. His voice was sin, every word a lustful question. Maybe she should just give in, just walk over to him and show him what she needed…

The stone, the void, the old gods, the elven gods, the Maker, blighted Andraste help! Why was she like this from just a dream? Were all the other races like this from dreams? Or was it only affecting her so strongly like this because of her being a dwarf, perhaps this is why dwarves do not dream. She had so many questions, but Solas had made it clear that until he had time to do some research on the subject he would not produce any more answers. She just needed to work out this energy in some other way, perhaps join the Seeker in a few rounds of practice. Anything was better than mentally jumping each and every male she came across today.

"No everything is fine, thank you for asking Varric." She muttered at the fellow Dwarva before she fled his questioning gaze.

"No problem, Squeaky!"